Petrichor

So, finally the worst time of the year seems to be over. Winter has crept up slowly. One can feel it in the slowly drying up skin and the early morning chill. 

A very big relief after the depressing last few months. It rained relentlessly, continuously, non-stop, pitter-patter, pitter-patter it went on day and night. Every time there were signs of rain, I felt miserable, with an overwhelming feeling of frustration. I hated the very prospect of rain.

It is not as though I did not enjoy the rains in my time. Just like anyone, I too have stories of getting excited like a peacock at the first sign of rains, stories of standing in the rain with closed eyes, face pointed heavenwards, feeling the cold raindrops hitting the face, and jumping in joy. 

Stories of making paper boats of different sizes and floating them in the stream of rain water flowing in front of the house. Stories of jumping in the puddle of rainwater and screaming in glee as the water sprayed on everyone around. Stories of stretching out hands and letting the raindrops fall from the slanting shades.

Even during the growing years, I too have stories of sitting by the window, watching the raindrops hit the puddle of muddy water that slowly formed. Invariably, someone would say “it is time for Pakoda and Chai, and soon plates of hot Pakoda (onions dipped in batter and deep fried) would pass around followed by steaming cups of Chai.

But one thing about rains that always intrigued me was the strong, sweet, heady, powerful aroma that emanated when the first drops of rains hit the soil. I had a kind of fascination for that smell. I always wondered what caused it. If only I had nurtured that intrigue, the curiosity and fascination, perhaps I could have got a PhD for it. And that is exactly what two Australian scientists, Isabel Joy Bear and R. G. Thomas, did.

In 1964, the two scientists started the study of rain’s aroma with an article in Nature Journal titled “Nature of Agrillaceous Odor”. To explain the phenomena, they coined the term “petrichor” by combining two Greek words “petra (stone)” and “ichor (the blood of gods in ancient myth)”.

This is what the two scientists determined based on their study and research (Nature of Agrillaceous Odor):

One of the main causes of this distinctive smell is a blend of oils secreted by some plants during arid periods. When a rainstorm comes after a drought, compounds from the oils—which accumulate over time in dry rocks and soil—are mixed and released into the air. They also observed that the oils inhibit seed germination and speculated that plants produce them to limit competition for scarce water supplies during dry times.

These airborne oils combine with other compounds to produce the smell. In moist, forested areas in particular, a common substance is geosmin, a chemical produced by a soil-dwelling bacteria known as actinomycetes. The bacteria secrete the compound when they produce spores, then the force of rain landing on the ground sends these spores up into the air, and the moist air conveys the chemical into our noses.

Whatever may be the reason for the Petrichor, I have always enjoyed that heady pleasant smell. I enjoyed it most while I lived in the middle east for over thirty years. I used to look forward to the rains. During the early years of my stay there, I used to be quite surprised at the rains in a Gulf country. Because, before I went to the middle east, I heard stories of sheikhs from various middle eastern countries coming to Bombay just to sit on the patio of their hotel suites and enjoy looking at the rains.

That sense of expectation for rains vanished once I returned back home four years ago. Now, I just hate the prospect of the monsoon. The first thing that one feels when it starts to rain is the unbearable stench from the street, smell of dirt, garbage and sewage. Within minutes, the street becomes like a river of rain water mixed with dirt and lucre flowing out of sewage manholes.

The situation is the same everywhere in the city. Wherever you go, you can see blocked sewage pipes and effluents from the sewage pipes overflowing onto the streets and roads. The under-prepared sewage infrastructure, built over 40 years ago, heaves under the burden of the explosion of multi complexes, super speciality hospitals, malls, and other business structures that were allowed to be built without any improvements to the overburdened sewage system. 

The civic workers try their best to clear the mess but the challenge is too much for the understaffed and under equipped teams. I really feel very sorry for these people who carry out their work, drenched in rain and filth of the city.

I really miss the excitement of the rainy season, especially the magical Petrichor. I believe there are Perfumeries in a place called “Kannauj” in Uttar Pradesh, who capture the fragrance of Petrichor in bottles, using a century old process of “trapping the lush fresh smell of the first rain in a bottle". The perfume is called “Mitti Attar”. Perhaps, it was meant for people like me who miss the heady fragrance so much (Mitti Attar, Kannauj, UP).

I often wondered how people in countries where it rained most part of the year, managed themselves. I have heard that people become sad and depressed when it rains continuously and the sky gets grey with overcast clouds. 

I spent three days in London with my family, visiting places of tourist interest, accompanied by a tour guide. We carried umbrellas wherever we went because we were advised that the weather of London was quite unpredictable. It was true. It would be a beautiful sunny day one moment and the next moment it would start raining.

We spent two additional days on our own taking the underground rail and the red bus, hunting down the places we always wanted to visit, Notting Hill (famous for Julia Roberts & Hugh Grant movie), Abbey Road (remember Beatles zebra crossing album cover!) and all those famous places we knew from playing the game of Monopoly.

We really enjoyed our trip to The Royal Observatory in Greenwich Park across the Thames River. The walk across the clean pathways and the lush green lawns was wonderful and exciting even though there was a light drizzle. The whole place looked beautiful with greenery all around. I didn’t mind the rain at all. Of course, when you don’t have to put up with the smell of overflowing gutters and with such beautiful scenery all around, who can complain!

Anyway, coming back closer home, I hope we have seen the last of the wretched rains until next year. Now, the winter is here. Onward to the best time of the year, the cool winter chill and above all, to the Christmas season. 

It is time to clean up the mess created by the rains and to spruce up the house, clearing up of the sticky moss all around the house, drying out the moistness in furniture and around the house, drying out the mustiness in the wardrobes, and washing up the clothes left wet and sticky, especially the dark colored clothes. 

Soon it will be time to put up the Christmas tree, and hang the silver bells, buntings, streamers, stockings, Santa with his Sledge & his Reindeers, and the lovely, poetic, sacred greetings to friends and family and above all the Hosannas and Praises to The King. 

Pandemic or no pandemic, nothing or no one can stop me from enjoying the most important of festivals ever, the “Blessed Christmas, the celebration of the birth of Jesus Christ”.

                                   +++

September Hoax

It is the last day of September 2020. The heavy downpour still continues, unrelenting. It rained heavily, incessantly all through the month. Lakes and rivers have swelled up to alarming levels. The meteorological experts have predicted more rains throughout the next week. Don’t know what devastation is waiting to wreak its anger on the city which is already reeling from the deadly Covid19.

It brings back memories of fifty years ago when the city faced unusually heavy rains almost reaching the level of floods. It rained incessantly without any respite all through the month. And then, someone decided to play a cruel joke on the hapless citizens. It was 24th of September in the year of 1970, the year I just joined college after finishing higher school.

I was at the general market shopping for new shoes. Those days, I was quite fond of ankle high boots. The kind the cowboys wore in the western movies. It usually needed enough time to hunt around to get what I was looking for. After hours of hopping around footwear shops, I finally found what I was looking for, a tan colored pair of beautiful boots. I was thrilled and quite exhilarated. I loved those boots!

As I was walking home, swinging the shoe package, I suddenly felt a commotion all around. People were hurrying up. They were actually running hither thither as if chased by someone or something. And then a group of men ran screaming “bhaago, Gandipet ka katta toot gaya, bhaago, paani aaraha hai (run, Gandipet bridge has crumbled, run, water is coming)”. It did not make much sense to me. Gandipet Lake was nearly 25 kilometres away from the city. Even if the bridge collapsed, how can it be a threat to the city! As I looked around, I got the answer.

Men in groups were looting shops that were still open or were in the process of closing. They just grabbed whatever they could lay their hands on and ran. They did not even spare the poor street hawkers, selling fruits, toys and general household wares on their push carts. I knew beyond any doubt that what was happening around was a scam, a hoax being played on gullible people. 

The looting men could have been part of the scamsters who created the hoax or they were taking advantage of the confused situation. I couldn’t take it any more of the looks of fear and desperation on the faces of the shopkeepers. They were caught in a helplessness, not knowing whether to run for their lives or to save their shops.

I hurried home wondering what could be the situation at home. As I neared my house, I saw my dad standing outside our house with a worried look on his face. My uncle was standing in front of the house, with his hands on his hips, glaring at no one in particular. When he saw me, he screamed “where have you been, the whole city is in fear, people are drowning and you are roaming around”. 

I have never seen my uncle so angry or heard him talk to me with such anger and rudeness. His eyes were blazing with anger and I could almost feel smoke coming out of his nostrils and ears. I blurted out “I was at the market and I did not see any water. I only saw men looting shops”. That made my uncle more mad. He screamed at me to go inside the house. When you are an elder, anything and everything you say is right! It has to be right! That is life!

As for the chaos and mayhem, when you get possessed by fear, the power of reasoning, education, everything goes out of the window. The scamsters who played the hoax understood that fact. But I wonder if they even expected that the hoax would work or even imagined the magnitude of chaos they would create with their evil scheme. And oh boy, did it work! It was a very successful hoax.

Later I came to know that many people had abandoned their homes after packing whatever personal belongings they could gather and proceeded towards the hills and higher grounds. There were also reports of many houses being burgled. 

I do not know how many people really fell for the scam, but it was one of the most cruel, sad, embarrassing hoaxes ever played on the people of the city of Hyderabad. I want to believe that people have become wiser after that cruel joke. But you can never be sure. People might still be falling for bigger hoaxes, of different kinds, played by master scamsters in the garb of well wishers.

Anyway, it was an unbelievable incident that I happened to witness. That unforgettable incident from my past was brought back to life thanks to an article in one of the local media houses ("paani aaya bhago").

Farewell SPB

It is very rare that greatness and humility come bundled together. I found this rare combination in one of the greatest singers of India, S. P. Balasubrahmanyam (SPB).

As for greatness, it would not do justice for a simple and insignificant person like me to sing praises of this greatly talented, dearly loved singer. The world is witness to his glorious, illustrious singing career.

I grew up listening to some of the male singers from Bollywood, Mohammed Rafi, Mukesh, Talat Mahmood, Manna Dey, Hemanth Kumar and also Ghantasala, Yesudas, T. M. Soundararajan from the south indian movie industry. These singers were the finest, extremely talented and above all, most humble human beings. Between them, these singers gave unforgettable songs to the music lovers. They sang songs of almost every genre, ranging from sad, happy, romantic, soulful, melodious, to classical.

Then came Kishore Kumar in Bollywood and S. P. Balasubrahmanyam in the south. These two added a new dimension to film songs. They added pep and a new kind of energy to the songs that made them quite popular with the masses.

I have enjoyed many of SPB's songs. But my all time favourites are “Shankara…. nada sarira para….” from telugu film “Shankarabharanam” and “Kadhal rojave…” from Tamil film “Roja” and “Mere Rang Mein Rangne Wali….” from hindi film “Maine Pyar Kiya”.

I personally witnessed SPB’s humility when he came to a live musical show in the Middle East many years ago. As SPB was introduced to the hooting and excitedly screaming crowd, he took the stage and after the greetings and other pleasantries, he narrated a personal story from his life. This he did even before he started his singing. That was really the humility and greatness of the man. He paid his respect to someone who inspired him to become a singer.

This is a rough account of the story he narrated. During his college days, when he was studying for engineering, he used to go to the college on his bicycle. One day, as he was passing by a roadside tea shop, he heard a Hindi song playing on the radio. The song had some kind of a mesmerizing effect on him. He stopped the bicycle and started listening to the song. 

As he was listening to the song, his eyes closed and tears started rolling over his cheeks. When the song completed, he was completely overwhelmed by the effect the song had on him. The same thing happened for three continuous days. 

Later, after many days, as he stopped at the tea shop, the tea seller asked him curiously why he was crying while listening to that particular song. SPB simply answered he didn’t know why he cried. The song that had such an impact on him was “Deewana hua badal…..” from the Hindi film “Kashmir Ki Kali” and it was sung by none other than the great Mohammed Rafi. There was a thunderous applause in the amphitheater in response to the humility of the great singer.

As he finished narrating his story, SPB confessed that it was Mohammed Rafi who inspired him to take the path of singing. When he heard that particular song, it fueled up his passion for singing. After that he never looked back. And what an incredible, successful and illustrious musical journey that has been. 

It really takes a lot of guts and humility to praise someone else in front of a huge audience, to give credit to someone else, fanother contemporary singer, for being the inspiration for your success. And I believe that humility, and sincerity brought laurels to this great singer.

Success can easily turn a person into an arrogant egomaniac and a tyrant to other contemporary and junior singers. Bollywood saw the emergence of many new singers, who in a short time achieved popularity. What is sad about some of these singers is the way they showcased their arrogance and hatred in public. 

The ability to sing is a great gift from God and it is supposed to bring all the good human qualities in a singer. On the contrary, it is so appalling to see how hateful, self centered and arrogant some of these musicians turned out to be in recent times. Many of them lost their souls in their unquenchable thirst for power and lucre. They lost all sense of right, humaneness and humility. Worthless people like this may come and go, their music may last for a short period. They and their songs may end up in the trash bin of music history. No one will even remember them or their drab music. 

When it comes to quality of singing and character of integrity, these bunch of self centered riff-raff can in no way match the great singers of yesteryear. The songs of Mohammed Rafi, Mukesh, Talat Mahmood, Manna Dey, Hemanth Kumar and also Ghantasala, Yesudas, T. M. Soundararajan, SPB will be remembered forever. Not just music, these men will also be remembered for their humility and integrity of character.

It is quite sad that S. P. Balasubrahmanyam is no more. The country has lost yet another gem from our midst. But it is heartening that his songs will last forever. May his soul rest in peace!

Personal Genome Analysis

It is called "Personal Genome Analysis", a screening process of genes through which an individual's risk or probability or predisposition of getting specific diseases in future are predicted well in advance so that the individuals with the help of their treating doctors can take necessary precautions. 

That is what the brochure handed over to me said. What precautions can be taken and how? The brochure didn't elaborate much on that. My first reaction was, probably another of many scams going on in the healthcare "industry".

I was at the hospital for one of my routine check ups. I completed the first stage of the process and went around the hospital scouring for a comfortable place to sit. I had a couple of hours of waiting until the next procedure. I came across the Executive Health Check Up area which looked quite beckoning. It was quite well furnished with plants all around, and comfortable sofas, almost like a reception of a star hotel. 

I saw a rack at the entrance filled with all sorts of brochures. As I stood there in front of the rack reading the various health check up packages on offer, a young lady approached me asking me if I would be interested in health related information. I said "yes, why not" as I had nothing to lose, I had plenty of time on my hand. To covey that there would be no obligation from my side, I let her know that I was just looking around.

She showed me a brochure that explained various health check up packages with cost, listing various tests included. As I was going through the details, she took out another pamphlet which read "DNA Personal Genome Analysis". She was excited to tell me that this was their latest, most invaluable offering, which in her opinion, every individual, especially children and youngsters, need to take. 

It was a comprehensive test that predicts well in advance the predisposition of an individual to various diseases in future, well in advance. Then she took out a folder from a courier cover. It looked like a photo album with beautiful hardbound covers and thick pages. She said it was the Personal Genome Analysis report of one of the doctors in the hospital. Perhaps to highlight confidentiality being followed, she said that the report was sent to the personal address of the individual by courier service. 

The first thing that struck me was, how come the report of one of their own doctors was in her hands. Information about an individual's diseases, especially certain diseases like Sickle Cell, are highly confidential. Either she was lying about the report belonging to one of their doctors or they go to any length just for commercial advertisement. Either way, I found it quite bizarre. 

She gave me the brochures and told me to go through them at leisure. I selected a comfortable seat and settled down to go through the Personal Genome Analysis brochure. It is a test performed on the sample of an individual's saliva or blood. The test provides analysis of 62 various conditions to assess disease predisposition of the individual, to diseases including Alzheimer's disease, Crohn's disease, Schizophrenia, Thalassemia, Sickle Cell disease, and cancer affecting various parts of the body.

After reading through the brochure, many questions started rising up in my mind. How will advanced knowledge of a future disease help the individual? For example, if the report showed someone that their child had a predisposition to Alzheimer's Disease, how does it help them? As the report does not say at which point in life the individual may get the disease, when should the individual start taking precautions? Instead of mental suffering at a future date, will they and their families not have a life long suffering? 

As I sat there wondering about it, it brought back memories of a friend I had in college.

This friend's house was on the way from my home to my college. I used to visit his home quite frequently on the way back home from college. His mom would serve us a hot cup of tea with interesting maharashtrian snacks. 

His dad was in a senior managerial position in the Accounts Department in the Railways. He commanded quite many staff in his department. By nature, he was a very quiet and reserved person. Whenever he happened to be at home on my visits, he would nod his head with a smile in response to my greetings and inquire about my family, about my studies. 

Then came a time when I started seeing him quite often at home, sitting outside the house, very quiet, withdrawn, brooding, lost, staring into space. My friend told me that his dad had retired from service recently and since then there was a marked change in his behavior, on the negative side.

One day, I realized that my friend had not been coming to college for quite many days. I went to his house wondering if he or someone in his family had health issues. As I approached his house, I found his house was locked. On inquiring with the neighbors I was told that my friend's dad was not well and he was admitted in the Railway Hospital. They did not tell me what exactly was the sickness but from their hesitation, I guessed it must have been something serious. 

I visited the hospital the next day. After searching through the various wards, I could finally locate my friend. He looked quite sad and worried. I inquired about his dad's health condition. He just gave me a faint smile, dropped his head and led me to the room where his dad was being treated. What I saw there, shook me up completely.

My friend's dad was lying on a cot, his hands and legs were bound to the sides of the cot. Worse thing, he was making gurgling sounds with tears running down his cheeks, gnawing at the bindings around his arms, trying to free himself. 

I was stunned, my mouth went dry and I could feel a lump in my throat. Looking at him, I wondered, was he the same man I knew before, the man with authority, the man in a high job position who commanded respect from many staff reporting to him. 

I couldn't take the scene for long. As I came out of the room mentally disturbed, I asked my friend what went wrong. He said no one knew exactly what the problem was. His dad started behaving differently soon after his retirement from the service. Before they could realize it, he had become depressed, aloof and started hurting himself. It became quite uncontrollable for the family. They had to seek professional medical help. 

I just stood there, looking at my friend, unable to quite grasp what I just saw and heard. With a heavy heart I bid goodbye to my friend and left the hospital. I felt like all the strength had drained out of my body. Oh God, why do such things happen! I knew their family for a long time. They were a loving close knitted family. I have not heard them say a harsh word or utter an abuse. Then why!!

After that, my friend had not been the same person that I knew before. He was aloof and kept to himself most of the time. I tried my best to cheer him up or get him to his old self. It didn’t help. I went to his house several times but it was not the same as before. I couldn't see his dad anywhere, so guessed there was not much improvement in his health situation. Invariably I would feel quite awkward as there wasn’t much conversation happening and then I would leave. After we finished college, we totally lost contact with each other.

Another similar case comes to my mind, that of an acquaintance. This man was a senior manager in one of the famous banks in Southern India. By nature, he is quite an amusing person, always had something funny to say about any situation. A few years ago he retired from the service. After that, he used to provide his services to the banks as a consultant. He drove his car by himself. His retired life appeared to be quite content and going in the direction.

Slowly, over a period of time, a marked difference started appearing in his health. First, he stopped driving his car. He traveled by hired driver or taxi. Then faint tremors started in his hands. And then his speech started to slur. Within months, his health took turn for the worst. Good thing was, he did not become a recluse or bitter about his ill health. 

He continued to socialize.  Whenever we gathered for some social event, I noticed  expressions of pity n people's faces. It became very difficult to converse with him, as his speech was not clear. I do not know what exactly was causing problems in his health, but there was mention of Parkinson's disease. Personally I think it is Essential Tremor Disorder. Whatever, the reason, it is quite sad that such a thing could happen to a person of happy and humorous nature.

I could not understand what caused such a things, stripping a person of all dignity. People offer many reasons, but no one could say with certainty what leads a person to depression or dementia or many other such conditions. Alzheimers and Parkinsons were not such popular diseases spoken about in those days. People invariably considered it as an act of voodooism or black magic brought upon by some enemies, who invariably turned out to be the neighbor or a jealous member of the family.

Looking back, I wondered, if something like "Personal Genome Analysis" was available in those days and if my friend's dad's family had prior information about his dad's predisposition to depression or dementia, could they have been better prepared? Could they have avoided the shock, the pain and the suffering? 

It is said that acceptance is the first step to make things easier to face or handle or manage difficult or painful situations. Perhaps, it might have helped them! The family could have been well prepared and planned my friend’s dad’s retirement better.

The Empty Kennel

Our neighbor's dog was put to sleep yesterday. One injection, and the dog slowly slipped away into eternal unconsciousness and carted off to be disposed of by the licensed veterinarian. I do not exactly know what sickness the dog was suffering from, for sure not Covid19, but I there was the mention of some kind of cancer. Perhaps it was old age!

For quite some time the dog was incessantly moaning as if he was in a great pain. Also, there was some kind of an unpleasant smell emanating from the dog. They used some kinds of medical sprays to treat the dog’s skin and fur but it was not of much help. They even used phenol to sanitize its kennel and camouflage the bad odor but the effect of the chemical would last only for a short time. Whatever was the reason, it was quite an arduous task for me to carry out my routine gardening chores.

I am not sure if the process of euthanizing a dog is a painless process or not. According to veterinarian experts, it doesn't take long for them to gently slip away with minimal pain. It did look like the dog made a painless, peaceful exit. There was no whimper, no moaning, no twitching. Unfortunately, not many humans suffering from indescribable pain get such a privilege.

Today, when I stepped out to clean up the garden, I felt a kind of freshness in the air, something that I experienced after a very long time. It greatly lifted up my spirits. But when I looked at the empty kennel, with the door ajar, I felt a pang of sadness. 

I remembered, the dog was adopted some twelve odd years ago as a male puppy. We were told that he was a cross-breed of Alsatian and Bulldog breed. Looking at his size, I couldn’t believe that he was just a few months old puppy. 

Soon he grew up into a ferocious looking hound. He didn’t just run, but hopped and galloped like a wild horse. He would lift his fore paws and try to embrace or whatever that he was trying to do, but all that would happen was the person would be pushed flat on the ground. 

He reminded me of the Great Dane from the Marmaduke comic strip. When he barked, his bark could be heard in the whole colony. Everyone who happened to enter our colony never forgot him. He and his bark became our address whenever we contacted the electrician or the plumber or any service personnel. Whenever we tried to give them details of our location, they would say "oh, that house with the big dog!". 

Only a few family members of its owners could handle him. Not that others were scared of him but the sheer strength required to control him was quite daunting. 

I remember once when I alighted from an Auto (three wheeler taxi), as usual he started barking. His kennel was quite close to our building’s main gate. One look at the dog and the auto driver got scared out of his wits. He started pushing away his auto, and said in almost a whisper  "Sir please pay the fare quickly otherwise I might become the dog’s nashta (breakfast)!". That was really very funny, something I will never forget.

We felt quite safe and secure all these years with him prowling around our building compound in the night. He was a very useful watchdog and also quite loving. In the night, he would come and sit outside below the window of the room that had light. He knew someone was still awake. If he saw any of our children trying to go out of the gate, he would give a very peculiar sound, almost like a painful moaning kind of sound, perhaps an attempt to warn us.

It takes a lot of effort to take care of a dog of such a huge size. Giving him a bath was always a big spectacle. It needed couple of persons to take him out of his kennel and tie him up outside. The way he would splash the water away from his body was quite amusing. By the time his bath was over, everyone around would be drenched in water.

He is mostly shut in his kennel during the day time. He is let loose during the day occasionally for some time on Sundays and holidays. We had two metal gates installed in the compound to stop him from entering our part of the compound. It was done for a couple of reasons. 

When he was let free, it was quite difficult to contain him when we had visitors. In fact couple of our friends got bitten by him. Also, he became quite ferocious if he saw any cat. 

Once he chased after a cat  that had entered the building compound. Unfortunately that day I forgot to close the gate. The cat scampered across and got under our car. The dog went around the car trying to get at the cat. After scampering around under the car, the cat got under the bonnet of the car. 

The dog started to tear apart the car radiator and the fiberglass front fender of the car. We all screamed from inside the house trying to shoo him away but he wouldn’t stop. Finally, one of the family members dragged him away. By then he had caused enough damage to the car. Part of the front fender was torn and there were scratches all over the body of the car, scratches made by the dog in his attempt to get at the cat.

In all these years not once did I dare to pet him or step out when he was loose in the day time. I am basically not a pet person. I do not have any particular liking for dogs or cats. That doesn’t mean I hate animals. I do get upset and express my outrage known, especially on social media, whenever incidences of cruelty to animals were reported. 

Couple of years ago, a man in Southern India threw a six months old puppy from the college building’s roof terrace. He was a medical student. The worse part was, his act of cruelty was video graphed by the man’s friend and shared on social media. Luckily, the dog survived, lived and got adopted through the love and care of gentle hearts. Through mass outrage on social media, the culprits were booked by the police. But they were unjustly very lucky as they were let off with paying just a fine (Man hurls puppy from terrace).

In another incident, four other medical students, bound a baby monkey with telephone wires, tortured it in the most gruesome manner and then burnt the monkey alive. What was more disgusting was that the gruesome act was watched by group of students. When I read the news I felt nauseated, disgusted and angry. I wanted all the perpetrators to be locked up in jail and the key to be thrown away (Baby monkey tortured and burnt ).

I don't know if it is just a coincidence that in both the cases the crimes were perpetrated by medical students. I wonder, what made the medical students resort to such cruelty and brutality! Mental sickness is the only answer I can think of. Being in the medical field they were supposed to be kind and caring but perhaps somewhere down the line their minds got disconnected from their hearts.

I am not exactly a pet-person or particularly an animal lover. But I do have fascination for horses. Perhaps it is the effect of watching all those western cowboy movies. I love watching videos of horses galloping with their noses flaring, their mane flying in the wind, their muscles flexing and the rhythmic sound of their hoofs. It is exhilarating just to watch them galloping away. We had a big canvas painting in our living room of a group of horses in flight. It was like a centerpiece of the house. There is something quite majestic about horses!

Coming back to our neighbor's dog, we would certainly miss him and his bark. His bark was like a siren that alerted us of visitors at the gate. I don’t know what feelings our neighbors must be going through at the loss of their dog. 

It is said that some people find it very difficult to cope with the loss of their pet dog. Because people develop deep emotional attachment to their pets, sometimes the attachment may be more than with other humans. In the words of George Eliot, “Animals are such agreeable friends – they ask no questions, they pass no criticisms”. 

And dogs are considered man’s best friend because of their unconditional love and affection. But grieving cannot last forever. Life must go on. For, this is not the first time our neighbors had to lose a dog. It had happened before. Watching the dog being put away was almost like replaying a scene from the past. 

They may soon get another puppy, which would grow up into a ferocious watchdog. Until then I will certainly notice his absence every time go out to the garden and see that Empty Kennel.

Prisoner Number 16770

Brave men do not always carry weapons or wear uniforms or wear capes. Some brave men are simple, ordinary persons but perform exemplary act of bravery when least expected, men who go on to become epitome of bravery. 

This is the story of one such person, Maximilian Kolbe. Born as Raymond Kolbe, son of weaver in Poland. As a child he was quite mischievous. One day his mother chided him, expressing her worry as to what would become of him when grew up. His mother's chiding had a lasting effect on him. He became pensive and sought help of Mary, Mother of Jesus. It is said that one night he had a vision in which Mother Mary gave him choice of either to "persevere in purity" or "become a martyr". He chose both. Thus began his journey towards the ultimate martyrdom. 

He became a Franciscan priest, changing his name to Maximilian Kolbe. He traveled wide and far in his mission of charity and spreading the Gospel. 

In 1939, the Nazis occupied Poland. Maximilian Kolbe was arrested on general suspicion. He was released but was arrested again on suspicion of hiding and protecting Jewish refugees. He was imprisoned in Auschwitz concentration camp. His new identity became "prisoner number 16770". 

Even after becoming a prisoner he did not lose his spirit of charity and compassion. He was a pillar of strength to the other prisoners who were driven to desperation due to the cruel treatment of the Nazis. It is said that prisoners from other bunkers crept up to his bunker to confess their sins and get his blessings and redemption.

One day, a prisoner escaped from the camp. As a reprisal for the escape, the camp commander ordered 10 men to be chosen who would be sent to "the dark cells" in Block 11. In place of windows, "the dark cells" had vents covered on the outside by metal screens with air holes punched in them. Prisoners slept on the bare floor. The selected prisoners would be confined to "the dark cells" until death by starvation. 

Franciszek Gajowniczek was one of the 10 selected to die. As they were lined up, he started crying and screaming that he had a wife and children and he would never see them again. At that moment, Maximilian Kolbe did something which was never witnessed in Auschwitz. He stepped forward and asked permission to speak. No one in the history of the concentration camp ever stepped out of line or spoke out of turn. Anyone who tried something like that would have been shot to death. Surprisingly, the Nazi commander asked Maximilian Kolbe to speak up. 

In his gentle and calm voice, Maximilian Kolbe said "The man has a family. I am a priest and I am willing to take his place". Surprisingly again, the commander agreed to the strange unexpected request. Maximilian took the place of the crying man. It needs exemplary courage to do what he did knowing well that utter humiliation, starvation, pain, and death awaited him.

He and the other nine men were taken to "the dark cells". At the end of two weeks, only Maximilian survived out of the 10 prisoners. On 14th August 1941, he was executed through lethal injection. He died with his arms raised to the heavens. Thus ended the mortal life of a brave man but his legend lives on. In the words of Pope John Paul II, Maximilian Kolbe did not die but gave his life for a brother. 

Franciszek Gajowniczek miraculously survived the concentration camp. He became a living testimony for the exceptional bravery shown by Maximilian Kolbe. Also, he was one of the persons present when Father Maximilian Kolbe was canonized and declared a martyr of charity by Pope John Paul II on 10 October 1982. 

The Catholic Church venerates St. Maximilian Kolbe as the patron saint of amateur-radio operators, of drug addicts, of political prisoners, of families, of journalists, of prisoners, and of the pro-life movement.

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Acknowledgement: Inspired by the Friday homily of His Eminence, Oswald Cardinal Gracias, Archbishop of Bombay, India

Death of Two Friends

Two deaths within the space of two weeks, death of two friends. 

Hundreds of thousands of lives are being lost on a daily basis due to the deadly virus. We are passing through very testing and uncertain times. I have personally lost two good friends.

The world is in the vice-like grip of Coronavirus pandemic. Everyday brings some hope of vanquishing the pandemic or some sort of defense mechanism but the pandemic pulls us back by several steps. For now, we are caught in the Deadly Coronavirus Maze. Only God knows when we will come out of it

One of the two friends who died, MS, was my friend for a long time, our friendship lasting almost for over 30 years. Couple of years ago he had a heart attack and survived it due to timely help of a neighbor who was a medical doctor. 

According to the information I received, MS had a severe breathing problem last week and was admitted to a private hospital. The hospital informed the family that MS tested positive for Covid19. By the next day the hospital declared him dead, of severe pneumonia infection. The appointed agencies cremated the body according to Covid19 protocols.

I was very shocked when I heard the news. Especially because MS was very particular about his health, he was a pure vegetarian. He was dedicated to the daily routine of Surya Namaskar and Pranayama. 

MS and I were colleagues working for the same organization for a few years. From then on we remained friends until the last few years. We both returned back to India after spending over thirty years in the Middle East. 

I was very upset with him a few years ago when I realized his inclination towards certain political and social ideology. It greatly surprised and pained me that of all the people in the world, he could be inclined in his thoughts and ideals with an outfit that had a bunch of very narrow minded, ill educated, megalomaniac and racist persons. These persons are constantly peddling toxic hatred and splitting society in the name of religion, pseudo hyper nationalism and over bloated ethnocentrism. 

I knew MS as an enlightened, evolved, soft spoken, fair and broadminded person. I remember one incidence that had happened while we were in the Middle East. One unfortunate evening, his wife went to the beach along with her friend and their children. It was almost dusk. The sun was setting and the shadows were spreading fast along the sandy beach. It was also time for the fishermen to return to shore with their day’s catch and it was quite usual for businessmen to collect the fish from the fishermen in their vans and trucks. 

Suddenly, MS’s wife saw an SUV coming towards them at a great speed. By the time she reacted, it was too late. She tried to get up, screaming and pushing her friend and the children to safety. Unfortunately, the front fender of the SUV caught her face. Her face was bloody and mangled.

The Arab who was driving the SUV did not run away from the scene. He picked up the injured lady, put her in his vehicle and took her to the hospital. The police asked MS if he intended to file a case against the Arab. MS replied that there was no need to file a case as it was an accident. Moreover, he was thankful to the Arab gentleman for bringing his wife to the hospital on time, without any delay. That was good enough for the police. 

The Arab was quite moved by the gesture of MS. If he had filed a case it could have meant jail time for manslaughter and even a hefty fine. After that, the Arab visited the hospital everyday until the lady was discharged from the hospital. The doctors who attended to the injuries, did an excellent job in restoring the lady’s face.

In short that was a brief testimony of MS’s character. He believed in fairness and the spirit of “live and let live”. The fact that such a person had fallen a victim to the deception of a bunch of vile characters, came as a big surprise for me. Since then I consciously kept a distance from him and almost lost touch with him. It is a painful reality of the times we are living in, when selfish, egoistic, ill educated, power hungry politicians are splitting communities, families and friends apart.

Another friend, VJ, died this morning. He was battling infection in his lungs for the past few months. I met him only three years ago but it feels like I knew him for a long time. It is quite ironic that just yesterday my friends and I met each other in a virtual meeting room. We belong to the same BSF (Bible Study Fellowship) community. The meeting was quite conspicuous by the absence of VJ. One of the members informed us that the condition of VJ was not good, that he was on a heavy dose of painkillers.

This morning we received the sad news that VJ had died. I think the shock was lessened because of the information we received yesterday. Yet, I can't help the feeling of a heavy heart. 

Although I have known VJ briefly for a couple of years, he was one of the best human beings, very humble, righteous and down to earth. He was such a family oriented person that he took the difficulties he had with his company as an opportunity to resign and accompany his daughter to few overseas educational engagements. He was quite upbeat about the trip and the places he visited and the people he had met. It is quite unbelievable that he is no more. 

Incidentally, both MS and VJ shared the same nature. Both were ever jovial, down to earth, cool minded, and full of wit and humour and both were in the field of Information Technology. They had a funny thing to say or recount a funny incidence, whatever the circumstances may be. 

I have lost two wonderful persons during this pandemic. May their souls rest in peace!

The Lost Sheep

It has been reported that His Grace Pope Francis was 'deeply pained' by Turkey's decision to reopen Hagia Sophia museum as a mosque. In his own words "I am thinking of St. Sophia and I am deeply pained.".

There was outrage from others as well. The World Council of Churches has called on the Turkish president to reverse the decision. The Russian Orthodox Church expressed dismay at Turkey's decision, accusing it of ignoring voices of millions of Christians.

The European Union's foreign policy chief called the decision "regrettable". Cypress strongly condemned Turkey's actions and called on Turkey to respect its international obligations.

The US State Department spokesperson expressed disappointment at the decision by the government of Turkey. Greece branded Turkey's move an "open provocation to the civilized world".

But why outrage at this monument alone? There is no doubt it held importance and significance as it was one of the oldest churches, built in the year 537 AD by Constantinople. It remained as a church under various Christian denominations until the year 1453 AD when it was converted into a mosque by the Ottoman Empire.

But the truth is, this is not the first time when a church has been closed, abandoned, sold or converted.

I had the good fortune of visiting the magnificent church of St. Peter's Basilica in the Vatican. As our tour guide was guiding through the various marvels of the Basilica, she mentioned that close to 800 churches in Italy were closed. The reason being, with no one visiting the churches anymore, it was not feasible to maintain them. Without any offerings from the faithful it was not possible to keep the churches open. It was absolutely shocking news for me, especially something like that happening in Italy with the Vatican right next door!

While in Venice, I saw a chapel being used as a warehouse for storing marble stones.

When we visited Germany, we came across a big church with tall spires and Gothic architecture. Admiring the architecture of the huge imposing building, we went around looking for the entrance of the Church to spend some time in prayer.

As we approached the entrance we saw a tall beautiful lady in a green dress standing with some leaflets in her hands. On a wooden stand next to her there was a stack of leaflets. My thought was “perhaps some program was in progress, perhaps a marriage”. I asked her if the church was open and could we enter the church. She stretched the leaflet in her hand towards me and answered with a sweet smile and a musical voice "yes it is open, we are devil worshipers and you are welcome to join us". 

I stood there open mouthed, staring at her long fair face wondering if she was joking or perhaps I might have heard her wrong. At the speed of lightning, everyone who was with me disappeared from the scene. I asked her "Are you really devil worshipers? You are not joking?". She answered in her soft voice "No, I am not joking". Still confused and not believing what I heard, I just mumbled a "thank you" and left the place completely rattled by what transpired in the last few minutes.

I have read about devil worshipers, and even seen them in movies. But this was the first time I encountered one in person, face to face. The experience was quite overwhelming. I went looking for my group and as I joined them, the topic of discussion was “why are people leaving the Church!”.

Sadly, many Christian churches are being listed on the real estate market even today by real estate firms all across the world for sale, many of the countries predominantly following Christian faith.

The churches may be closed or abandoned because money is very important for maintaining the structures and its facilities. When no faithful are visiting them, and with no prospect of offerings collection, it becomes a difficult proposition to continue the church functioning. 

But the important question is, where are all those Christians? Why are they leaving the Christian faith? Have they lost their faith in Christianity? Have they found and adopted some other faith? Where exactly are those lost sheep? 

Hundreds of Evangelists, pastors, and missionaries from the US and other western countries go to India, Africa and other countries, all through the year, some very famous, some less known. They go around preaching the Gospel, trying to find new converts to Christianity.

Why don't they go after the "lost sheep" in their own respective countries? Why don't they take inspiration from Jesus Christ? In the parable of the Lost Sheep (Matthew 18:12-14, Luke 15:3-7), when a sheep was missing, the shepherd did not say "it is alright, I still have 99 and I can get another new one". He went looking for the one lost sheep, leaving behind the ninety nine.

However big or small a church, a cathedral or a chapel may be, it is a place of worship and praising God. And without a congregation, there cannot be worship and praising. So, the most urgent need of the hour for the churches, the evangelists, the pastors, and the missionaries is to get that missing congregation back into the churches, get the Lost Sheep back into the flock of Christ.

Source of References:

• World reacts: https://tinyurl.com/y8sxq5wt
• Hagia Sophia History: https://tinyurl.com/y24e7pk8
• 11 Australian churches sale: https://tinyurl.com/yylha2k9
• 21 Australian churches sale: https://tinyurl.com/yx8ws29y
• Top 10 Australian churches sale: https://tinyurl.com/yxjvqt52
• US abandoned churches: https://tinyurl.com/y478lnyg
• UK Church Auction List: https://tinyurl.com/y5xqrtn2
• Church of Scotland Sale: https://tinyurl.com/yxf8jokq
• Scottish Churches Sale: http://www.property.org.uk/unique/ch.shtml
• Italian Churches Sale: https://tinyurl.com/y5ugok4d
• Canada Church Sale: https://realestate.mitula.ca/former-church-ontario

She Who Dares Wins

The initial 50 odd days of lockdown in India due to COVID19 was devastating to many people’s livelihood, especially to the skilled labor and daily wage workers who were left in the lurch, deserted by their employers. The reason could be indifference, greed, helplessness or lack of social responsibility.

Whatever help or arrangement came from the authorities was ill planned or utterly inadequate for the size of the mass caught in an unforeseen situation.

Hundreds of job losses were reported every day. The big businesses could continue their businesses by getting their employees to work from their homes. Some smaller companies and organisations offered to continue their businesses by paying reduced salaries to their employees. Some companies had to totally close down their businesses as they could not cope with the challenges of the lock-down.

There were heart rending stories of people driven to poverty, hunger, malnutrition and abject hopelessness and even suicides. 

But there were also many stories of the brave and lucky ones who did not succumb to the hopeless situation but found ways of eking out their livelihood, some in quite innovative ways.

This is the story of Sarada from Warangal, Telangana, India. Sarada was working as a software engineer in an IT company. She lost her job due to the economic downturn due to lockdown. Losing the job was a huge blow but she did not sulk in depression or lose her positive spirit. 

Considering the situation, she found selling vegetables was a viable solution for her and her parents. Though educated and fit enough to work in an IT company, she neither had any inferiority complex nor had any qualms about selling vegetables. It was the best solution for survival until the IT job market got better.

Her story became viral on the social media and an inspiration to many people who were caught in similar situations.

So far she has done well in her new endeavors of survival. I am quite sure with her grit and positive attitude, she will come out as a winner. Who knows, with her spirit of entrepreneurship, she could even turn out to be a very successful business owner. Wishing her the best of luck!

Source: https://english.sakshi.com/news/andhrapradesh/jobless-woman-sotware-engineer-selling-vegetables-livelihood-warangal-121914

You Are On Your Own

It was just another day, as any other, of reading news of human helplessness at fighting the Coronavirus Pandemic. One particular story was no different from the dozens of sad stories that are reported on a daily basis on news media or shared on social media. The heart rending story of the struggle of common man in finding medical help, the story of despair of our health system.

In short, a young man went from one hospital to another trying to find urgent medical help for his sick father. Wherever he went, he was turned away and was told to try elsewhere. As the oxygen was running out of the cylinder in the ambulance, the man even tried to resuscitate his father, but that didn't help. Finally, the father was declared dead as the day was breaking. The ordeal didn't end there. When he tried to find a place for his father's body in a mortuary, he couldn't find one. With the help of some friends, the family preserved the body on ice. Finally, when all the arrangements were made, they cremated the body.

This story was exceptional because a man posted a video on YouTube sharing his story of horror, helplessness and desperation.

We can very well understand how much one would be shaken up on losing a parent. Even during those grieving moments, the man decided to create a video and shared details of the ordeal he and his family went through, for hours together, in trying to get medical attention for his father. They went from one hospital to another without much success, finally his father succumbed to his illness. 

As he explains his story, we can relate hundreds and thousands of similar cases the country has been witnessing for the past few months.

But the exceptional thing about this video is, without blaming anyone, the man coveys some very important messages: Please stop taking your health for granted. Please ensure that you take care of yourselves and your family.Protect yourselves. Be safe. We pray that no other family or child is put in such a situation. Please ensure that you take care of yourselves and your family.

This story and many such stories raise many questions.

• Why have we reached such a situation where we cannot find medical help when it is needed?
• Has this pandemic exposed the utter weakness, unpreparedness and helplessness of our healthcare system?
• This is not the first time the world has faced a pandemic or a warlike emergencies. Was our health care system prepared with expertise and resources needed to tackle the epidemic?
• This "Deadly Microscopic Thing" was not home grown, it was brought from outside through international travelers. Were enough controls in place to stop it at the ports of entry itself?
• Even after discovering few cases, did we do enough to tackle and contain it when the number of cases was controllable?

I don't know the answers to these questions and I would certainly not want to speculate on the answers. But one thing I know, "we are on our own".

It is time to think that we are back to the centuries, in a huge village with very limited medical services, the village doctor located very far away from our places. Let us think that we may or may not get the limited medical help promptly when it is needed. 

It is time to get back to "Grandma's Nuska (recipe)". It is time to get back to the time tested "home remedies". 

Above all, there never was a time than now, to become humble and prostrate to our creator. It is time to pray for yourself, your family that are near and far. 

Pray as you have never prayed before for God's mercy! We certainly need it now like we never needed before!

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Media Report: https://newsmeter.in/banjara-hills-man-denied-admission-by-6-hospitals-dies-in-transit/ 

Video: https://youtu.be/wp_6rx7tD1U