Fast forward onto adult experiences. At my female cousin’s wedding in California over a decade ago, the priest, a software engineer (moonlighting as a Bhatmam on weekends) went that extra mile to explain in detail the significance of every ritual during the ceremony. During the kanyadaan (giving away of the bride), I vividly recall myself and a few other ladies being moved to the point of weeping; partially reliving our own bridal angst but more importantly, speaking from a personal perspective, understanding in simple layman’s language what everything really signified.

A somber and interesting function, Punarprathistapan (resurrection) of the Moolnaga was held in our native place, Bantwal early last year. The Moolnaga is a series of Nagas (serpents) carved on black stones as seen in our traditional temples. Some hoodless Naga carvings found in the wilderness of Bantwal, led to superstitions of invoking negative spirits. The Mallya Moolnaga apparently was lost/overlooked, for several generations and excavated after much efforts three years ago. Certain rituals and poojas that are supposed to be performed regularly connected with Moolnaga had been neglected for several decades. The property where the Nagas nestled ended up with the government who in turn gave it to some landless laborers. Wild shrubs and foliage sprung around and slaughter of animals and liquor consumption on the sacred site by the laborers is believed to have angered the Moolnaga, leading to several Nagadoshas (sins of omission) which affected many in the extended Mallya clan.

Having ascertained from spiritual leaders of the Mahalsa temple in Goa–the ruling deity of the Mallyas, including the Swamijis, that the afflictions and problems in some of the Mallya clan was due to the lost and angered Moolnaga, the search for the authentic Moolnaga was undertaken. Once located, the labourers were persuaded to sell the land in order to build a small temple around the Naga deities, and all hoodless carvings were thus restored and resurrected. As for the congregation, well, there was solace in the belief that the serpents had been appeased and the hope that future generations would not have to face the wrath that their forefathers did.

Pictures of the Naga pratishtha provided by Deepti & Vivek Mallya, Boisar, Maharashtra
The white murthys are the newly carved ones, while the grey ones are the original excavated nagas.
Click to view slideshow.

To share the genesis of this madness, I recorded the view. Here is a 67 second snippet, as the train crossed the Aghanashini River and approached the Kumta Train station. I recorded this from the doorway with my flip video, amidst the rain and rumbling of the train. Enjoy and tell me what you think.

Music: Mere Desh Ka Salaam, Shobha Gurtu.

Note: Move your mouse out of the video frame, to lose the black border.

• Kumta: Jewel of the Konkan
• Kumta: Main Street
• Kumta: Field of Dreams
• Young Women Making Papads in Kumta
• Shanbhag School in Kumta
• Academic Update from the Shanbhag School – 2009

On the Konkan Railway

• Konkan Railway: Welcome Aboard
• Young Couple on the Konkan Railway

Based on a series of questions I ask him (on camera, in Konkani), he shows us a portion of the woven braid. All those buds will yield about 10 feet of braid and take him an hour to weave. Notice the thread, it is actually a fiber pulled from the bark of the banana tree and kept soaked in water. Very eco-friendly.

These braids will be sold in the marketplace (see Kumta marketplace) and usually end up in temples or family shrines. Women also use to decorate (and perfume) their hair. The market rate for these braids is about Rs50-Rs100/ft ($1-$2/ft), but can be significantly higher during the festival season. The beauty of the braids is in the buds; and once they bloom, the braids are considered done.

Here you see such Jaaii-kaLe braids offered to the Nag Devata at a small shrine in Kumta.

Every day should be Mothers’ Day and Fathers’ Day. This Mothers’ Day (May 11), I started to pen some thoughts regarding my parents (Dr. Vasant R. and Mrs. Uma Koppikar), but life intruded and I did not complete my piece to honor them. One awful summer in 1978, we were devastated by my father’s fatal heart attack on July 2. Within a couple of months (Sept. 3) my mother lost her brave fight against leukemia. Doubly mourning, numb with shock, we could barely function. All 5 sisters (I am the second) consoled each other, drew strength from our spouses, and managed to live through bereavement. Sadly, the third of the daughters, Padmini Rao, succumbed to multiple myeloma in Sept. 2006. This article is dedicated to her memory, with thanks to her husband, B. Udayanand Rao for being such a dedicated care-giver.

In the preface to “Manache Shloka” (24 Feb. 2000), His Holiness Sadyojat Shankarashram Swamiji writes “Our Parama Guru, Swami Anandashram used to speak of three Shankars in our community. They were Justice K. Shankarnarayan Rao, HSR (H Shankar Rau) and A.V. Shankar Rao.” I am proud to call the first-named Shankar my maternal grandfather. He bequeathed to us a precious legacy of caring and sharing which we hope to pass on to future generations. My parents were karma-yogis and are my role models. They touched many lives and helped make this world a better place. Even after 30 years, people remember my parents and speak respectfully of them. They express gratitude for their kindnesses: e.g., being surrogate parents to homesick young brides, assisting families over rough patches, lending a helping hand in financial crises, and simply being there when needed. All this was done quietly, unobtrusively, and with no strings attached. We grew up surrounded by warmth and affection, compassion for the less fortunate, and kindness and consideration for all. Our household was the opposite of the “himTee” (miserly, penny-pinching) reputation attached to Koppikars.  Indeed my parents were generous almost to a fault. Hardly a day went by when they were no guests. Doors were open and no alms-seekers were turned away. Midway between Mumbai/Pune and southern destinations such as Shirali, Mangalore, Bangalore, travelers would halt in Belgaum and were treated as part of the family. If there were people travelling with no stops, my mother brought tiffin carriers full of home-made food to them. Rather than purchasing a railway platform ticket each time, she would buy a season pass for convenience. On the off chance that someone may come in on a late bus etc., extra food was put aside. She followed the tradition of her parents’ home (nicknamed “Liberty Hall”) where many young men from smaller places lived to complete their education, and generosity was the byword. My paternal grandparents also created a haven. A well-known ophthalmic surgeon, Dr. Ramdas Koppikar was also a reputed dentist, and patented and manufactured affordable medicines.

My parents’ house was “KuLaar” (Parents’ place) for everybody, regardless of gender or age. Entire families would come over if one person had eye surgery. My father was the official opthalmologist to our revered Swamijis. Rich and poor alike were treated with equal care. Patients with modest incomes sometimes voluntarily paid in kind. He was one of the few to treat inmates of the missionary leper colony. He set up one of the first eye banks in that part of the world and participated in the Lions Club, cooperating in vaccination drives, fundraisers, eyeglasses for the needy, etc. Even after death he kept on giving the gift of sight via organ donation. His corneas have been successfully implanted in 2 individuals.

My mother was his partner in all ways, from helping him at his clinic to working side-by-side for deserving causes. She taught Hindi to poor children, found homes for neglected kids, helped unwed mothers, and volunteered for the Red Cross. Many a bride was given a mangal-sutra and a sari for her wedding if the parents could not afford these marriage must-haves. It was a warm and jolly household, filled with laughter, brimming with art projects in various stages of completion, observation of festivals, etc. Along with good food and fragrant filter coffee, classical music and dancing, books in various languages, Winsor and Newton paints, easels, beads, embroidery hoops and colorful yarns were part and parcel of our lives. Encouraging our hobbies, tolerant and non-judgmental, forgiving our childish transgressions, my mother let each of us pursue our interests in our own fashion with no pressures. She was ahead of her time and was a true feminist. The best advice she gave us was that we should be self-sufficient, see the bright side of everything, that every individual has something they excel at and can share, and that we should walk in another’s shoes before criticizing.

We grew up believing that beauty is skin-deep and actions speak louder than words. “Handsome is as handsome does” is a motto we still strive to live by. Though he brought us up with firm discipline, my father advised us not to take ourselves too seriously and find humor in everyday situations. “Even if everyone around you is goofing off, do your work diligently and do the right thing. Remember good actions as well as bad ones have consequences, so behave accordingly.” We got an education for life, one which no school or university can ever offer. They taught us by example as well as precept. I can never forget how, even during her terminal illness, my mother treated the visiting Ranisahebs of Kurundwad and Sawantwadi with the same courtesy as the humble “bhaajiwalis” (vegetable sellers) whose produce she bought. Nor can I forget how, on the heels of my marriage expenses, my father emptied out his savings account so I could join my husband in the U.S. after the rupee was devalued and my own tiny savings as a college lecturer got swallowed up. These were lessons in grace under fire.

My father was born in Karwar. Educated in Karwar, Dharwar, Mumbai and London, he got married to K[undapur] Uma Rao. After a distinguished career in the Indian Army Medical Corps, he worked for the government touring seven districts with a mobile unit. He settled down in Belgaum and made a name for himself in his profession as well as social work. Born in Shimoga, brought up in Bangalore, my mother married at the tender age of 14. She was yanked away from her loving home and parents (K. Shakarrnarayan and Mrs. K. Shyambhavi Rao). The sheltered teenage bride had to cope with the vagaries of being an Army wife. Together my parents accomplished the tough job of bringing up 5 daughters, educating them, finding husbands for each and marrying them off. My father used to joke that they only got the “Pancha kanya” portion of the traditional marriage blessing and ignored the “Ashta-putra” part! (After a Hindu wedding, the priest blesses the newlyweds and prays that they will have healthy kids: 8 sons and 5 daughters and have a happy married life) Though they had no sons, they gained 5 great sons-in-law. Today, scattered over 3 continents, they have 9 accomplished grandchildren and 6 great-grandchildren.

My second son (Dr. Samir Bangalore) met and married a brilliant corporate lawyer, Sheila, granddaughter of my father’s friend and fellow ophthalmic surgeon, Dr. (M.) Ramanath Bhandari. Among all the eligible matches, he chose this gem of a young woman to join our family. What an amazing coincidence!

I thank God for this and all His Blessings. If we can pass on even a minuscule portion of the values they brought us up with, we will truly honor the memory of my parents. May their souls rest in peace!

The school made a significant investment in cooking equipment and prepares a nutritious, vegetarian meal for the ~ 850 primary and secondary school students. Lunch is simply rice, sambar or daal, a lentil curry or vegetable and pickles (see actual student plate above).

During my meetings with parents of Scholarship recipients, and listening to comments at the Parents Teachers Meeting, parents absolutely love the school lunch program. Parents are relieved of the pressure to pack a lunch every morning, or have it ready for the lunch break. Parents are also surprised (and glad) their kids actually eat the variety of vegetables and lentils the school serves. The school subsidizes the lunch and charges students Rs 80 per month (~$2 per month, Rs 4 per meal or ~ 10 cents per lunch!). Students not on the meal plan can eat occasional meals and drop cash in an unmanned donation box.

Kids love the food too. Meals are taken in the company of friends (and associated peer-pressure to finish their plate). Lunch is done within 20-30 minutes, and since they still have an hour break, they get to play around, gossip, or browse the library.

Thus I showed up just before lunch time to “test the quality of the school lunch program.” I always have interesting reasons to be present wherever free lunch is served. Very delicious food and a primary reason why we included lunch as part of the scholarship package we provide needy students. Whenever you are in Kumta, you are welcome to join in for a free lunch!

See pics from the Lunch, below

Boys and girls line separately for their lunches; senior students (X Std/grade) take turns serving. This day they also served a special “payasam” (see nearest bucket)

Students wait for all their colleagues to be served before starting.

Then after a brief benediction in Sanskrit (Shanti Mantra),

They start to eat.

One more of the lunch/ auditorium

• Lunch at the Saraswati Vidya Kendra
• Shanbhag School in Kumta
• Academic Update from the Shanbhag School
• Scholarships for the Needy
• Scholarship Activities at Shikshan.org

The Shanbhag High School, managed by the Konkan Education Trust does not receive any governmental aid. But it follows the state determined academic syllabus and guidelines. While we attract many students who can afford fees, our family wanted to make good education particularly accessible to the poor. Thus last year we gave 16 scholarships to very needy students to attend either the Shanbhag High School, or the affiliated primary school, Saraswati Vidya Kendra. At a new site dedicated to our Scholarship activities, (Shikshan.org), you can browse the list of Scholarship Recipients for 2007-2008.

You can also read about my personal challenges in identifying needy girls: Where are all the needy girls?

We did not rest, last December (2007) during my travels to Kumta I visited most of the scholarship recipients in their homes. The visit served two purposes: (a) to meet the families and convince them of our commitment to support their child’s education ~ and in turn expect them to make education a priority; and (b) to ensure that these were indeed needy families, which I could determine from their living conditions.

They lived in simple 1 or 2 room homes, or with relatives, and it was emotionally overwhelming to experience the gratitude of these families. Below, I share with you some of the scholarship recipients in their home settings. Appropriately I have omitted their names.

We supported the girl; this was their front room/living room/bedroom and the kids studied on the bed. Behind was a smaller kitchen/dining area.

She came from a family of traditional fisher folks.

We supported the boy. As discussed in Where are all the needy girls? the sister in 4th grade was enrolled in the Kannada language school. She wanted to be in the Shanbhag School with her brother but unaffordable. On hearing this, I asked her mother (father is no more) to enroll her in our school for the next year. When I visited Kumta last month, we got the girl enrolled with a full scholarship! Yaay!

You can see the kitchen and dining area in the back. As traditional families do, they sit on the floor to eat.

We are supporting the boy. You see one of several sisters in the background, who have all graduated from the Kannada language school. With limited professional or career options, they work as cooks and serve meals to students in a part of their house.

We are supporting one of these delightful twins, seen here drawing and finishing their home work.

If you are interested in helping children get an outstanding education, see what we have started at Shikshan.org; and particularly, How to Help!

• Shanbhag School in Kumta
• Academic Update from the Shanbhag School
• Lunch at the Shanbhag School
• Lunch at the Saraswati Vidya Kendra; Audio of Kids Chanting
• Scholarship Activities at Shikshan.org

Tambdo phovu is very easy to prepare and inexpensive. The biggest expense would be the coconut and in the Konkan, every family would have their own coconut trees. You could mix as little or as much as you’d want. It doesn’t spoil, though the phovu may soften a bit.

The key ingredient here is the phova piTTo (powdered spice mix). Earlier, this would be made in every home, but now families simply buy it in the market. Phova piTTo from Kumta is famous! On every visit to Kumta I pickup a pound to bring here, and also for my aunts and cousins living in Mumbai (who are too lazy to travel to Kumta). Shilpa of Aayi’s Recipes has a recipe for the Kumta phova piTTo!

After much pestering, Manashi has developed a taste for it and now makes delicious tambdo phovu. I get it at least once on the weekend! I count my blessings, else I’d have to make do with chemical laden, starchy mush called cereal!

Ingredients

• Phovu (thin puffed rice, 2 cups)
• soyi (grated coconut, 1/2 cup; we use the frozen variety, microwaved to thaw)
• Kotumbari (coriander seeds, 1 tbsp)
• Jirae (cumin seeds, – 1/2 tsp)
• Tambdi mirsang (dried hot red peppers, 4 medium sized)
• Saakar (sugar, 1 tsp)
• MeeTh (salt, to taste)

Method:

• Roast the coriander and cumin seeds; then the red peppers separately in a wee bit of oil.
• Collect in a steel bowl, along with the soyi, poha piTTo, sugar and salt.
• I use a pestle (of mortar and pestle) to first crush the seeds, the red peppers and then crushingly mix with the phova piTTo, soyi, sugar and salt.
• Mix in the phovu in small amounts.
• Moisture from the soyi should be sufficient to soften the phovu, but you can sprinkle a few drops of water.
• Serve with some sev on the side.
• Bon apetit!

• Shilpa has a slightly different, but equally delicious recipe for the red phovu.
• You may like another of my Konkani Favorites: Kadgi Chakko!

and my favorite Kumta related posts:

• Kumta: Jewel of the Konkan
• Kumta: Field of Dreams
• Kumta: Main Street
• Kumta: School Kids
• Or you can see all my posts in KUMTA category

Eat Healthy! Live Long! Run Far!

shri ramachandracharanau manasa smaraami
shri ramachandracharanau vachasa gruNaami
shri ramachandracharanau SHirasa namaami
shri ramachandracharanau SHaranam prapadhyae

On Rama’s feet I meditate
With words I praise
With lowered head I pray
At Rama’s feet I seek refuge!

Rama.
During times of cosmic crisis, Vishnu as Preserver and Caretaker of the Universe adopts various avataars or earthly forms, to save Creation from calamity, and rid humankind of suffering. Rama as a model human, is one of Vishnu’s most popular avataars. Rama is revered as a devoted son, faithful husband and a righteous king. To fulfill his father’s promise, he willingly accepts exile and wanders forests for many years. When his wife Sita is abducted, Rama enlists birds, monkeys and other animals to track her to Lanka – kingdom of the villainous Ravana. After a prolonged battle, Rama slays Ravana and saves the world from terror and torture. Rama’s victory is celebrated during the Vijaya Dashami festival, and culminates in the burning of Ravana in effigy.

During festivals, devotees raise their voice to Rama. Temples ring to countless chants of his name. Uniquely, the mere recitation of Rama’s name is said to bring ananda or bliss.

The reason for this can be traced to the Mahabharata, when Bhisma bestows on the victorious Yudhishtra, the Vishnu Sahasranaam (Thousand names of Vishnu). Noting the long sermon, Devi Parvati asks her beloved Shiva, how an ordinary person can attain the same benefits as reciting the Vishnu Sahasranaam. Shiva assures her that uttering but once the name of Shri Rama is equal to chanting the name of any other God, a thousand times. With these invaluable words from Shiva, mankind has been blessed with an easy path to happiness.

In the Rama Raksha Stotra – hymn asking Rama for protection, which millions of devotees recite with fervor everyday, the opening verse affirms that reciting even a single word from the life of Rama is able to destroy the greatest of our sins. Mahatma Gandhi also urged followers to recite the blessed name of Rama. Prophetically, “Hey Ram” were the last words from his dying lips.

Included above is verse 29 from the Rama Raksha Stotra, which resonates well with the theme of bhakti for Rama. As Sant Tyagaraja has written, simply by asking the virtuous Rama to shower his blessing and compassion assures us of experiencing ananda.

Hanuman visits Sita in Ashokvan (Ashoka gardens) Lanka where she is held captive by Ravana. (stone carving stored in the Hampi Museum)

She charged me 12 rupees for each. I gave her the money. But ever eager to practice my kannada and engage in conversation, I asked here only jokingly why it was 12 rupees here, while it was only 10 rupees in the city. She must have been surprised by my heavily accented and rudimentary kannada, and realizing I was joking, she started giggling. She was completely at a loss of words. I just could not keep a straight face and started to laugh too.

I made small talk, asked her name and generally how many drinks she sold in a day. Her name was Uma and said she sold about a crate (of 12) each day. I estimated she made 4 rupees profit on each bottle, netting her about 50 rupees a day (slightly more than a dollar)! And for that she had to stand in this heat all day! And some one had to drop her here and pick her up in the evening. And she has not yet eaten! Life is tough! But she had a certain calm about her and I think this pic radiates her inner peace. And her confidence!

As I prepared to leave, I asked her again why it was 12 rupees for each drink: yaakae hutnerdu rupaiya?
Now she really burst out laughing, and I laughed with her. After a few moments she composed herself, then lifted the lid of the cooler, pointed inside and with a twinkle in her eyes mouthed a single word: Ice!

For that thirst quenching ice cool drink I would gladly have paid twice as much!

I was gifted this small, yet well done bronze of Uma by my cousin brother Ramnath. He has a good eye for art work.

This is Uma (Parvati) as Shivakami – the beloved of Shiva, in a classic tribhanga pose. This is purported to be a late 18th century reproduction of the 11th century piece from the Kulottunga I era. I have had this for several years and I never tire of admiring it. It is small and fits nicely in the palm of my hand. I am drawn to her graceful pose. I am drawn to her exceptional beauty. I am drawn to the inner calm she radiates! And I am drawn to the confidence she exudes!

The craftsmanship is exquisite for so tiny a piece and we have no idea where this statuette resided for the last several centuries. The sharp features suggest she was not used for any puja. Prolly stayed in a noble household.

It is said that the easiest way to reach Shiva is to appease Parvati (or Uma) and have her champion you to Shiva! Perhaps it is that restlessnes in my heart that draws me to her. I certainly thirst for her grace! And every time my eyes fall on Uma, I know my thirst will soon be quenched.

During my travels to India, I look forward to visiting our ancestral town of Kumta – Jewel of the Konkan in coastal Karnataka. And when I read that Shilpa’s Aayi (mother) actually lives in Kodkani, a village near Kumta, I had to make the pilgrimage and take darshan of this Devi – the inspiration behind Aayi’s Recipe. I contacted Shilpa and asked to visit her parents. She readily agreed and gave me their contact details.

And on a beautiful Saturday, I hitched a ride on a school bus dropping kids off to kodkani. Now, that in itself needs a separate post.

As the bus pulled up at the designated place, Shilpa’s father was waiting and brought me to their beautiful home! Wow! A traditional style bungalow, which immediately transported me back to the home of my grandparents in Bhatkal. Terracotta tiled roof; an open ‘jagli’ and a tulsi vrindavan in the front yard. The magnificently blossoming tulsi gave me great vibes of the place (see pic later).

And what a joy it was to finally meet Shilpa’s Aayi! Yes, Aayi of “Aayi’s Recipes.” Hundreds of thousands have salivated at her dishes, as shared by Shilpa. Legions have been inspired to try her creations for their loved ones. And so many look forward each day to new posts to titillate the palate. And I was invited to a beautiful konkani lunch made by her!

Look at the spread. I hurriedly captured it before wolfing everything down. By the time I was through, not a morsel was left. What is more beautiful than all those recipes Shilpa posts on AayisRecipes? Eating dishes lovingly made by her Aayi! … and I got to eat it! nyean, nyean, nyean, nyean!


Here is the Tulsi Vrindavan in the aangan.

After lunch and general discussion on the state of Kumta Schools, Shilpa’s father took me to the nearby river Aghanashini – translating roughly as: “Remover of sins.” I know what you are thinking: “Arun go take a dip!” You are just jealous I got to eat that Aayi-made lunch. nyean, nyean, nyean, nyean!

What a idyllic place grow up and raise a family. This dug-out was going out to the delta and picking up sand, which is a significant economic activity here.

Another pic of the river with a nearby boat resting on its side. I can see myself, taking a nap in the shade of the coconut trees yonder. (click image to see a larger version)

Shilpa’s father then drove to me a nearby Devi temple and then dropped me off to a mutual friend’s. All in all a great way to spend an afternoon! Thank you Shilpa and your Aayi for inviting me into your home!