Updates from September, 2013 Toggle Comment Threads | Keyboard Shortcuts

  • Ram 5:55 pm on September 29, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , Gurus, , Kodaikanal, Mahindra Scorpio, Michelin, Rallying, , , Swami, the true swami   



    ” 5,  4 , 3 , 2,  1…..”  Vrrrooom….Vishrant pressed his foot hard on the thick accelerator of his Mahindra Scorpio, and it responded with a mighty jump. They were off to a flying start in the mid-week rally sponsored by Michelin tyres. The rally had eight cars with sixteen participants. They left Dindugul at 4 pm sharp to Kodaikanal and had to be back the next day morning at 9 am. Normally the drive to Kodai takes about two and half hours.

    The Mahindra Scorp' in its elements

    The Mahindra Scorp’ in its elements (Photo credit: rjstyles)

    His navigator Anant was quite amused, when he thought of this rally. They had been to many rallies before and never have tried anything like this. No specific timed halt’s, no specific route maps, just the destination to reach. But the catch lay there. The instructions from the organizers were quite weird and surprising. They had been instructed to visit the shopping area near the lake and locate a Swami in one of those shops. They will have to interact with the Swami and bring the prasad from him.

    Vishrant was a bit nervous with the swami stuff and was always taught to look at Swami’s with fear and respect. Anant was his more relaxed and casual companion. Though they had all the time in the world to reach Kodai, they couldn’t drive slowly, since it was nearing six pm and since it was off-season the shops would start closing due to fewer tourists near the lake.

    Their Scorpio slowed down at the final hair pin bend and both of them smiled as they looked at their quartz clock showing 6.05 pm. The Sun God was still smiling as they neared the lake. Anant said” My God….we have so many tourists even on a working day” . ” It looks like our Shanti Colony”. They parked the car right near the first shop because they didn’t want to miss a single one.

    ” Anant…Keep a note on every shop which sells pooja articles. We will quickly locate the Swami and buzz of to Kodai”. Vishrant was really nervous. Anant said ” Vishy…Why the heck would anyone sell pooja articles near the lake in Kodai? ” Hey… I know there is a Satya Sai meditation centre here.. So tourists might come to buy” replied Vishrant. Their conversation started picking up speed., when Anant said ” STOP”  “Please stop.” I am betting twenty thousand now. There would be no swami here. “What ? What are you blabbering?” asked Vishrant. Meanwhile most of the other participants in the rally arrived and were busy combing the area like special officers from the army.

    “Just follow me Vishy…”  Anant walked very fast till they reached the last shop. They covered twenty shops in a row. No trace of a Swami. Anant’s mind was racing as sweat trickled from his forehead even in the cool evening breeze. “We have another hour left, till the shops close, so lets hurry and do our second round.” They started walking slowly this time. One, two, three, four…they stopped near the fifth shop. Ananth paused and looked curiously at the shop keeper. He was busy reading a book, unmindful of the tourists glare and noises . All the items in his shop were neatly arranged and the smell of a lavender incense was quite soothing. He never bothered to look at us, unlike his neighbors who were shouting and selling their stock of Tibetan sweaters. There seemed to be such a calmness about him.

    “Vishy…Vishy…We have got our man. This is our Swami.”  ” What? Are you mad? This guy wearing a slack and jeans. How can he be a Swami? Let’s move on said Vishrant. But Anant wouldn’t give up. He boldly cleared his throat…”Uhmm, Sir, We are participants from the Michelin Car Rally. The man turned and smiled. Guys, this is my friends shop. I have promised to look after the shop during Monday’s and Tuesdays. The rest of the time I take care of my organic farm at Villupattu. By the way, I am a fed up engineer who landed at Kodai last year. I am now free and happy to pursue my very own organic farming at my own pace. So relaxing. The rally guys were ex office-mates and they have made me your Swami in the marketplace. Here is your prasad,he said, as he tossed over a small pouch to Vishranth and Anant. Nice to know that you both are going to win the Michelin Rally.

    Vishrant was in all smiles as he hugged Anant. ” Swamis and Gurus can be in jeans too.”


    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by Blogadda

    This weekend your post should begin with, ’5..4..3..2..1..’

    • preethiprasan 9:40 am on October 2, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      nice…a different take on the prompt 🙂 loved your last line…congrats on the wow!! 🙂


    • Ram 1:54 pm on October 2, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      thank you preethi


  • Ram 2:59 pm on September 21, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , email, , , , think twice,   

    my best friend 

    AND before I knew it, I had hit “Send”. Machaan don’t waste time da, let’s go da, let’s go da. My friend Sushil was jumping in joy, as though he cleared all his semester papers. I was still hesitant and gave him a doubtful look. Sushil wanted to go to Koshy’s, our favorite food joint to celebrate the email.

    My best friend Sushil has finally helped me in jointly creating and sending my first love mail to Priya, my college mate. I have been chasing her, the whole of this year inside the College, Chennai’s – Cafe Coffee Day’s, Barista’s, Pizza Hut’s and Express Avenue. It was just like a temple visit, where you see so many faces, pray and then come back home. Our eyes met so many times but we hardly spoke a word during this year. Of course I traveled only with my close buddies and this might have been the reason for our lack of communication.

    My greatest pain was her mother Kalpana. All my visits to her house at odd hours early in the morning or at mid afternoon proved futile because of Mrs.Kalpana’s domineering presence. When I heard, her father was posted in the Navy, I went so crazy, thinking of so many close encounters we might have in the future. But Mrs Kalpana made up for all that. She would guard her daughter as if she was protecting an upcoming movie actress. She escorted her to the groceries, library, video parlor, hair cut’s, bus stops and even to the telephone department office.

    I just got fed up. So we decided it’s time we took action and on this golden day, we combined, to draft, a so, so, romantic email which ran for two pages. We even smuggled in three quotation books from my Dad’s study.

    Sushil, ok let’s go now, but before that  let me just check the “sent” mail column. WOW. It said message sent. Lucky me, no bounce. Sushil. Hey Sushil, why are you so silent da. I turned around to see Sushil’s face all red, as if he just walked out of a horror movie. He said, You idiot. You ***^%$%$.

    You have sent the mail to kaliswaiting@gmail.com. That is her mothers email id.

    Cheap liar, Sushil. I banged his face and he fell flat on the bed. You said you copied the email from her facebook account.

    Sushil said “Sorry , Sorry, it’s all my fault”. I have copied it right, but sent you the wrong sms. Machaan please understand, I copied Mrs.Kalpana’s email too.

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda. wowbadge

    This weekend your post should begin with, “And before I knew it, I had hit ‘Send’.

    • ravindrara rajput 6:51 pm on September 22, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      Lol.. that was a wonderful climax to an otherwise sweet romantic story about to begin 🙂


      • Ram 8:53 pm on September 22, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Thank you ravindrara …I also felt it could go on….


    • Sreeja Praveen 12:29 pm on September 24, 2013 Permalink | Reply

      hehe 🙂 Friend romba usharu pola irukku 😉 Amma’va kooda vittuvekkave illaiye 🙂 Nice Post, Ram. First time here 🙂 nice to c ur blog 🙂


      • Ram 5:20 pm on September 24, 2013 Permalink | Reply

        Ha Sreeja..yeah be careful with best friends


  • Ram 4:31 pm on September 12, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: , , , , indian politicians, , namaste, salaam, salaam namaste   

    The Indian Politician 

    Ashok ji zindabad…Ashok ji zindabad.. Ashok ji zindabad.. The cries got louder and louder. The crowds got thicker and thicker. Mushtaq was perching on his sisters white balcony wall, and craning his neck to have a glimpse at the swelling crowd. He lit his favorite, brown, “More” cigarette, and inhaled a slow, smooth puff. Today he was in an unusual mood to relish his smoke, which he hadn’t done in the past decade. He took to this brand when he was in college because he wanted to look different from his classmates who always smoked white cigarettes. Even to this day he hasn’t changed anything. The narrow sylvan garden street wore a festive look. The yelling crowds looked like ants marching in a hurry to get their pieces of left over sugar cubes.

    Ashok had just started his election campaign today after visiting his Matha temple in his home town. This is his second campaign. The previous one was won by a handsome margin of 20000 votes. His party leader Shivlal had generously offered him a two acre farm house on the posh outskirts of Delhi, but he courteously rejected it saying he wanted to be closer to his people in the narrow lanes of sylvan colony. Shivlal knew Ashok ji was a match winner, a rare breed, which he could put all his money on.

    The real reason, was, no where in the world could he continue to do all his other illegal activities had he moved to the posh farm house. Ashok was born here and liked the smell of hot samosas from Manu Bhai’s shop, and the sweet paan from Calcutta Paan House. Never was he going to leave sylvan colony. Ashok ‘s car took a small turn and slowed down near a small but neat white house . The crowds roared as beautiful young ladies, dressed in blue saris, came out to take the traditional lamp arti, and were eagerly eyeing the plate which had red kumkum water in it. Ashok was a generous tipper and these ladies knew it, waiting to latch on to a few thousand rupee notes when they fall on this exquisitely carved brass plate. An added bonus this year was, they were all dressed in blue saris which was his party flag color, to impress Ashok ji. As the car stopped, Ashok stepped out with his soft yellow sandals. He looked fresh from his last victory and lazily gazed at his onlookers and gently raised his head. His face grew pale and white, as he saw Mushtaq standing near the balcony wall terrace.

    Ashok had just typed and sent a personal letter to his party leader Shivlal, two days before starting his visit to his home town. It read ” Dear Shivlal Bhai, not the right time to call you, since I am leaving to my home town before starting the election campaign. So I am handing over this letter personally through my brother Mukesh. You must immediately dismiss Mushtaq from our party. His loyalty is questionable and has had secret talks with our opposition leader. I know you will take my word and do it immediately. I will return fresh to start a great election campaign. Signed … Ashok”

    Shivlal ji zindabad…. Shivlal ji zindabad…….. Ashok  was shocked on hearing those shouts and seeing his party leader Shivlal emerge out of the white house, to greet him. Namaste Ashok ji. Namaste Ashok ji. Our party had to meet urgently this afternoon and we decided it will be at Mushtaq’s sisters house. Our second line leaders have been arguing with me from yesterday . They have asked me to allocate a seat this year for our Mushtaq. He is a loyal party worker for more than ten years, and stood by us during our worst crisis. But I said, it is already an unwritten word that Ashok will be our choice for this election too and I can’t change that. Ashok has already won us an election and Mushtaq is totally new. I didn’t know how to face you , but I have to concede to my party men as you know, thats how we work. So Ashok, this time let us give Mushtaq a chance.

    Ashok ‘s face grew more paler than ever before. He was totally speechless and felt dizzy. He was wondering whether the letter he sent through his brother had reached his party leader. He followed Shivlal ji inside the house and offered to sit down under a fan. He asked for a glass of water, and turned in the direction of the staircase where he heard foot steps.

    His brother Mukesh and Mushtaq chatted busily as they came downstairs. They had a smile when they saw Ashok sitting helplessly on the chair. On seeing Mushtaq, Ashok stood up slowly and said ” Salaam ” Mushtaq ji. Mushtaq said ” Namaste” Ashok ji.

    This post is a part of Write Over the Weekend, an initiative for Indian Bloggers by BlogAdda.


    Write Over the Weekend theme for this week


  • Ram 8:17 pm on September 5, 2013 Permalink | Reply
    Tags: ananda vikatan, Anger, anger management, balakumaaran.blogspot.com, Balakumaran, , Relationships, vikatan.com, writer balakumaran   

    writer balakumaran 

    Experience speaks

    I was browsing an old issue of “Anantha Vikatan”, a tamil magazine. Precisely an issue dated 8.8.12. A striking article written by the famous writer and novelist Mr.Balakumaran, caught my eye, simply because of the crisp message it conveyed to me and the readers of “Vikatan”. I wanted to do something about it and get it translated into English. It’s a request from him to the readers of this magazine to call a toll free number and talk to him about personal issues.

    So I took out my notebook and started this translation. It may not be a direct one, but I have tried to do some justice. I hope my readers like it.


    Where does Man get caught in difficulties? Is it in love or anger, or want’s. It can be easily said it’s none of the above. I can firmly say his ego is the main cause of his difficulty.

    His ego is quietly seated a foot below his needs and want’s, his love and his anger. “Do you know who I am?” ” If I want I can do anything “. You hear these words often blurted out by people with bean bag ego’s. This has caused their downfall many a time. OK, now I offer a glimpse from my own experience to show you ways as to how to dissolve this ego.

    What is Love? So many poets have already said so much about love. Love is just sharing and mutually agreeing to stop pointing the finger said J. Krishnamurthy. If we can get these wise words into our mind then life will be spectacular and useful.

    There is a lot to say about “anger”. Anger engulfs you first and not the person you are angry with. Some people take pride in saying that I am a very angry and short tempered person. They also say ” Watch out when I get angry.” Please listen to my golden rules on what I have to say on anger management..

    Just focus on what you eat. Yes, on what you eat. Food determines your mindset and your mental balance. Your diet controls your breath. Your breath controls you. When you are erotic and sexited, your breath is erratic. When you get angry your breath is abnormal. When you talk with an ego your breath plays havoc. Only when you are in love your breath is normal. People might ask me “Friend, what has food got to do with all this”. It does and I have a lot to say on this my dear friends.

    There is one more crucial element necessary for man’s eternal peace. It is mantra chants. Your religion, caste or work will not be a hindrance to this chanting. I can’t see a better option than chants to reduce your mental heaviness and anger. It is just a constant repetition of a mantra over and over again. My experience has a lot to say about this. Anyone can do it, just try.

    My experience is your reading material. All these thoughts which I have shared with you come from the bottom of my heart. Call me and we will talk. Thanks. Balakumaran.

    See you with my next post!

Compose new post
Next post/Next comment
Previous post/Previous comment
Show/Hide comments
Go to top
Go to login
Show/Hide help
shift + esc
Yachna Yoga

Yoga is the communion of the individual consciousness with the Supreme Consciousness. Yoga is equanimity of mind in success and failure. Yoga is mental and physical discipline.

Books Come First

And Everything Else Follows


A soul that's whole in a million reflections :)

Ravi Subramanian

Me, my books and my mind

Bucket List Publications

Indulge- Travel, Adventure, & New Experiences

Daily (w)rite

For lovers of reading, writing, travel, humanity

Thought Catalog

Thought Catalog is a digital youth culture magazine dedicated to your stories and ideas.

%d bloggers like this: