Autobiography of EgotismBy Kulamarva BalakrishnaMy grand father,Gandhi Krishna Bhat
and my mother Savitri Amma above
them my mother with father Mahalinga
Bhat
Chapter One=In this world
I believe journalism is a form of literature. If literature in general
is creative communication, journalism in its specialised form is direct,
timely and momentous.As I report my own life,I give an account of life
as seen and experienced by me.Since I believe that bereft of his environment,
an individual is not worth attention, I give importance to an individual,the
individual being only a means of measuring the value of surroundings I speak
off. My focus is on presenting the reality of my time.It is a contingent of
my sensitive thoughts developed during my career. My writing shows the
significance of events in my life and the time.The time per se. is single,
and indivisible,like the current,remains perpetually mobile without
exception.The focused events are different, like all moving, visual
entities are different. I am the transmitting media, the live wire. I
hope to achieve an aesthetic appearance,of phonetic sounds, in writing,
in my =autobiography of egotism=,that is creative individuality with
all transparency.
I am not the first to consider journalism as literature.George
Bernard Shaw thought journalism was a great literary form. I consider him
one of the greatest writers of our times.He was a philosopher who educated
himself by daily visits to the Victoria Albert Museum. He said his best
literary writings were his journalistic writings.I was not privileged to
use a great museum but I was compelled to take the help of Mysore
University's English Kannada Dictionary in translating news from pti
teleprinter tickers.My education was thus a by product of my work. I learnt
as I worked.
I am writing an autobiography. I am aware I am unknown, therefore not much of
name value. My life time, however,has been momentous.The New Civilization,
Marxism-Leninism acclaimed by the Fabian couple Beatrice and Sydney Webbs,
had taken birth seventeen years before I was born but had its demise in 1989
within 72 years of its birth. The late Mr. Nirad Chaudhury although known to
the listeners of BBC,called himself an „unknown Indian". I am less known even
though Indian readers remember me. Even after forty years they remember my
reports or comments. Nirad Chaudhury had an urban background.I had a rural
and brahmincal one. In today's India this has some significance. brahmin
fundamentalism of the worst kind today is set to go backwards to ancient
aboriginal times.India is almost collapsing under the weight of its peoples'
superstitions.It may be a proverbial straw to add to the weight is being
awaited. It is compelling intellectuals in just the same way Tsarism in
Russia compelled Turgenev, Leo Tolstoy,Fodor Dostoyevsky as well as
Alexander Kuprin and others to prepare ground for a Revolution.These
intellectuals had asked themselves " What then must we do?". The New
Civilization, however did not survive in Russia because it was led by corrupt
opportunist fanatics and drunkards. But Marxism survives Communism among
the fabians and democratic socialists the world over as explained by George
Bernard Shaw to "Intelligent Women" The reason for the survival of
Marxism,according to me is simple. Democratic Socialism lives on the
conviction and voluntary participation of the peoples.In this case, the
conglomoration of peoples all over the world.Communism on the other hand
suffered under the semi-permanent dictatorship of the proletariat.Thus as a
reporter of my time and society, sitting and watching from the balcony , what
is significant in all developing drama, I have heard and seen, are of
potential value for the future. I owe an honest report of it to the public.
The attempt in this autobiography is to meet that challenge. I am aware I
have taken a great responsibility.
Literature is a kind of creative communication, through word,
picture, echoes of light vibration or radiation of thoughts by technology.
Almost a thousand five hundred years ago, Sanskrit poet Bhartruhari
( 570-651 AD) put it this way:„"The whole world would have remained in
darkness if the light,called Word, had not been lit".( for foot note:
idamamdham tamah krisnam jayeta bhuvanatrayam yadi shabdahvayam
jyotirasamsaram na deepyate ) I can only update him.Then in about the
ninth century, another aesthetician, Mammata, acknowledged literature's six-
fold goals.They are: (1). fame,( 2) earning,( 3) learning worldliness,
(4) avoiding bad luck, (5) heavenly bliss and 6) pleasant co-education with
a girl friend. ( for foot note: kavyam yashase b) arthakrite, c)
vyavaharavide d) shivetarakshataye e) sadyah paranirvritaye f) kanta sammita
tayopadeshayuje )That was the general principle. In the present specific
context, I have to add my own seventh additional goal. My goal is
providing source material, in this writing, on our social history under the
perspective of the whole Indian past of several thousand years.
In the seventeenth century, the poet and aesthetician, Jagannatha
Pandita, defined " a word reflecting beautiful meaning" as literature ( for
footnote: Ramaniyartha pratipadakah shabdah kavyam). By his own definition,
he immortalised his Turkish girlfriend, whom he called yavanee, Ionian,
as literature. At the time of the releasing of the Red Book in Mao's
China, an Indian "new" poet wrote a fashionable poem on that country. It was
nothing but the repetition of Mao's name one hundred and eight times! In
other words the devotional recitation of a subject's name, as the Hindus do
of their chosen gods ( calling it "japa") was the poem. I wrote a counter
poem myself. It read: „ Sucheta".The poem being an expression of a
subjective private nature, the meaning of the word, Sucheta is only
intelligible to me.
Let us put it this way "The taste of the pudding is known only to
him, who tasted it." So Ms.Yavanee, Ayesha, for Jagannatha Pandita, is a poem
because she was his girl friend. Sucheta is a poem to me even today since I
am an admirer of that Bharata Natyam dancer. She could have danced, perhaps
in Marathi, if there was a possibility of performing a dance in spoken form.
I know Sucheta is fond of her mother tongue, she dances only to the
accompaniment of Marathi songs written by Maharaja Sarfoji and set to
Carnatic music. Literature is communication targeted towards the audiences'
mind and heart.The communication should simultaneously make penetration of
both the targets creating instant bliss,as happens by hearing the Shahnai of
the late Bismillah Khan, Sitar of Ravi Shankar, Ustad Ali Akbar's Sarod, my
mother-like khayal singer idol, Gangubai Hanagal or Pandit Shri Bhimsen
Joshi. My report, my autobiography is intended to touch the readers' head
and heart at the same time. I would call it „Ballirenayya?", meaning „Do you
know sirs?". I believe as if from a kind of hypnosis, I was floating in a
pleasant tank of mixed fluid within my mother's belly like a lotus flower.
May be the hypnosis took me over by the prayers written by Shri Shankara, a
eighth century intellectual and poet. On 04-11-1934, my mother's belly tank
opened up to release me in this world as a baby as she had done three times
before I came into this world. She was then not far away from her teens.
My coming into this world was accompanied by the proclamation of my
ego. I fell on this earth from my mother's womb a yelling baby. It was like
the hero known as colour character or bannada veshain the traditional
Kannada folkoperatic Yakshagana field play of South Kanara in Karnataka,
South India. In the operatic presentation, the hero colour character tears
open the curtain which is held by hand by two attendants after giving three
yells known as „attahasas" in the language of the folk theatre. Then the
attendants and curtain disappear exposing the hero colour character.
(foot note:The most important role in a Yakshagana or Bayalata play is
that of the colour character=bannada vesha.In a single play there may be
more than one heros, that is the speciality of this folks theatre where male
actors playing both male and female roles as in Japanese Kabuki theatre)
Immediately on facing the audience, the hero asks: " Do you know sirs?",
"ballirenayya?" In response, the folk theatre director, singer musician known
as Godly singer, bhagawata, (fote note: In the folk theatre Yakshagana
Bayalata, the director of the play is singer known as Bhagavata because all
themes of the performances are selected from Bhagavata puranas and the
singer is the most erudite of the theatre group having the sense of the whole
visual composition) engages the hero or colour character in conversation to
draw him out.
The hero unwinds himself before the singer by performing a
dance.The singer sings in the background.The hero dances. Once the dance
stopped taking some breath, the hero boasts of his past.That is his brief
introduction or autobiography.Here at birth I was the hero colour character
entering the world stage with my own autobiography of egotism,with a
combination of key words: "self esteem", ""individuality", "conceitedness"
leading to nothingness or emptyness. Yelling at birth is the normal behaviour
of a healthy new born baby.That way, I made it known, "I am alive, I am an
individual, I seek respect". I made my ego, individuation, and originality
known at birth. As usual, the yelling was ignored. But Dr.Posavanike
Subrahmanya Shastri, was holding the curtain at Karyadu as the director of
the drama of birth, in the designated "birth room" theatre at my
grandparent's house.The daughters in our house were expected to bring their
children to this world according to tradition at their parental residence.Dr.
Shastri cut the cord with the assistant attending nurse providing all
facilities. The nurse, gave me a wash.She called me then provisionally "the
good little one", oppakuhni. Although as the second son of my mother,I was
meant to inherit the name of Krishna, which was Mother's Father's name (the
name of my maternal grandfather was Krishna),her mother was traditionally
forbidden to say the name Krishna. Out of reverence of her husband, no wife
in our system could ever say his name. That was even so if she was trying to
call upon her grandson.The grandmother was totally forbidden to ever say
"Krishna", so she called me "Bala",the more elegant Sanskrit word for "the
good little one".That is how I became officially Balakrishna, retaining my
inherited name Krishna as well. The pet name given by the nurse
oppakuhni remained valid for my closest senior child hood friends. Juniors
being followers, had no chance of calling me by that name! My brother was
"the little one", kunhi. Those days there was no concept of family
planning.To limit the family size by contraception or by abstinence was not
used due to ignorance. Other contraceptive contraptions, such as pills,were
unknown.From the present Indian policy of family planning,for limiting the
number of children per couple with the slogan"we two and our two "
I was the undesirable fourth child, the second male.The cause of a population
explosion in theHindu country was destined to cause the global plurality of
Indians.Even though mentally retarded, they were not acknowledged as
retarded.The goal was meant to be majority by RSS-Indian Nazis.
As per the Hindu tradition which has been alive for the last
five thousand years or more in a skeleton or frame, I have as a later born
son less rights in the family and cultural atmosphere. I was told that I
should obey and serve my elder brother, who as the first born male is the
automatic boss by earlier birth.Because it was our duty to follow the old
aboriginal tribal traditions as in the Treta yuga of Hindu era younger
Lakshmana followed elder Rama in Ramayana.In the later Dvapara yuga of Hindu
era Pandava princes were born of mother Kunti inviting gods of death,(yama)
breeze (vayu) and thunder (Indira) and her co-queen Madri inviting twine
gods Ashwinau,how she mated the two at a single go is not explained in
Mahabharata, the younger ones served the elder son of god of death, known as
Yama Dharmaraja (Yama=name and Dharmaraja= king of duties).
Together they shared Draupadi as wife in turn Draupadi sleeping every year
with the younger husband to complete a round in five years! ( Draupadi is
quoted in Mahabharata as having confessed "I would have preferred to sleep
with a sixth as well ") Yudhisthira was boss.The younger four served their
purported eldest brother Yudhisthira sharing with him trhe wife Draupadi in
turn.The first term of one year husband-hood belonged to Yudhisthira, the
next term belonged to the second born Bhima in that order. Unknown to the
five princes, they had a secretly disinherited seniormost brother in Karna,
as enemy. It was because the mother Kunti chose to mate with the divine Sun,
as her test gigolo even before her marriage to the charming Pandava prince!
Hoary Hindu tradition obliges a cook to discard the first sweet
egg cake, palatschinken, or Indian dosas.The first born son was Karna,by a
godly gigolo, the Sun.Hindu marriage customs include "niyoga", a kind of
levirate marriage. Niyoga, the Hindu version ofLevirate marriage
permitting younger or elder male siblings,cousins or gods of a husband to
mate the female in case her married husband is unable to get an offspring.In
Kunti's case,Karna was born when she was unmarried as she had obtained
niyoga privileges from a godmen sage Durvasa.Kunti was at once tempted and
tested as gigolo the Sun god. However, she felt scarred at being an unmarried
mother. At the sight of the child she discarded it on the flowing river.A
fish swallowed the male baby intact.When caught and cut open the fish gave
out the baby.This baby was adopted by the coachman of Dhritarashtra, the
princess' blind would-be brother-in-law.Dhritatarashtra's one hundred male
children and the princess Kunti's younger five sons, known as Pandavas, were
to fight the notorious Mahabharata war.In that war Karna, the seniormost and,
in a way,illegitimate brother saved from the fish's belly,was
treacherously slaughtered,with the connaivance of the mother herself,
by the younger brother, Arjuna. I was neither the first baby nor one
obatinined through a gigolo.My mother also did not belong to the heartless
ruling class of Kshatriyas. She loved me, and allowed me to live on my own.
I am thus able to tell these details to the world, and give in perspective
how I have experienced several thousand years in just under 72 years of real
life and time. The traditions of old are cherished and practised now in
today's India just as during the times of my birth before India got
independence.In fact the desire to go back to the ancient aboriginal times
has intensified recently rousing passions all over the country.
At the time of my birth, there was a passionate desire to assert
our independence. As I write this, in a village in Orissa, with the famous
erotic temples of Konarak and Bhubaneshwar, a thirty year old woman claimed
to have married a snake! In the Mahabharata times,Jaratkaru, a sadhu or
godman did not care to marry and get a son.Jaratkaru was compelled to marry
because his manes complained that they were hanging on an abyss as there was
no tables reserved for them in god's domain for lunch and dinner because he,
Jaratkaru as the last in the family line, had remained without marriage
threatening the end of their progenies.If he had a son, he would have taken
over the responsibilites of food and drink supplies to the dead manes,
keeping them well fed and happy.As unmarried, he had no chance of becoming a
father.Who would marry a sadhu beggar claiming to be a godman? Finally a
snake offered him a daughter so he could arrange the heavenly insurance of a
son for his pitrus or manes.
Here I am, the hero,as an outsider,representing the bloody Hindu
cultural heritage. I rebell, although unsuccessfully, against my
senior sibling brother,insisting on my equal rights and equal treatment.Until
I was eighteen I remained under my parental roof although under protest.
I voluntarily let my father inherit my part of the wealth, in this world
giving him authority, by powers of attorney, to do what he liked with
my rights on the ancestral property.This abdication saved me from the
responsibility of providing him heavenly insurance,that is ,as son performing
rituals for the manes.That is why now I do not send ceremoniously food and
drinks to the heavens, to my manes, including my father with help of corws
and cows.I do not mind if my manes remain hanging upside down,holding by a
bunch of dry grass the edge of the precipice to hell, as rats cut into the
grass supporting them.Thus were treated the manes of godmen Jaratkaru
several thousands of years ago, forcing him to marry, as the only choice,
a snake girl! Mine is the rare case of an Indian reporting as news, an
individual applying the principle of reverse inheritance, in worldly
law.Hindu parents took it as their right to beget children as their social
insurance and pension in old age.I refuse to be an insurance policy for my
parents, and smuggle drink and food with the help of brahmin black
shamanas,cows and crows into heaven, or perhaps hell for the manes.
I would like them to stop taking birth again on this earth as parasites on
their progeny. I want to root out the horrid practice of exploiting one's own
children.Let my father, grand father, great great great great grand fathers
and so on up to the illegitimate son of Angirasa, the original founder of my
three sage dynasty or gotra named Bharadvaja,hang themselves upside down
on the precipice of hell. Let him be joined there by his son born of
masturbation on a pot, and for that reason named Drona, and his criminal
son, Ashwatthama, condemned for the murders of sleeping babies and unborn
babies.They deserve the punishment. Because of their selfishness I was born.
Let them pay for it.
My mother Savitri, inherited her name from her father's
mother. Savitri means related to the sun, whom we worship all our lives as
brahmins. That is my reason to consider my mother as mother nature, the most
sacred thing apart from my own life.My mother may have been about 23
years of age, when I was born. My eldest sister Honnamma,meaning golden
girl,fashionably renamed Hemavathi after her marriage, was born when my
mother was just 15 years old.Then every18 months my mother gave birth to a
baby until she was 50 years old! We were a total of 14 children surviving the
first year of birth. Her ninth baby,my fifth younger brother, remained
unnamed until he died about two years after his birth.Being sick he was
placed on his back as an infant on a traditional arecanut leaf bed. Covered
by a long folded cotton sheet serving as a diaper, he showed no signs of
movement or growth. At nights mother carried him on her breasts, with his
tummy on her breasts. He could not turn to demonstrate his normal growth but
he had grown teeth. Even before he could die my mother was made pregnant
again.She was pregnant of course by rape by my father within her married
life! Somewhere in between she had also a couple of short lived pregnancies.
I do not blame my dear mother, she was very young,loving,sweet and
attractive. I do not blame my father either. He was the first born male,
with six siblings, with three sisters and three brothers,and among the
sisters one was older.His virility matched his name which was Mahalinga
meaning Great Penis, with surname, Bhat! (Foot note: Bhat means a learned
brahmin, learned in the brahminic traditions) Mahalinga is the name is that
of the greatest Hindu god.Assumed to be of Dravidian origin,he always lived
with his wife,Parvathi (the daughter of Himalayas!) unseparated, like a
hippie in the mountaneous forests guarded by a gang of followers known as
"ganas", in turn led by a bull called Nandi. His wife sat on his left
lap.That is why he was described half-woman-boss,ardhanareeshwara.But god
Mahalinga was different from my father in that he never ejaculated!There was
one exception however, when other gods were felt threatend by demon Taraka.
They demanded him to depute his son as chief of staff of godly warriors.Thus
Mahalinga was reportedly compelled to place his sperm on the mouth of the
god of fire, who himself was a god and was responsible to convey food
offerings meant to gods!The child born out of that single exceptional
ejaculation is today worshipped all over south India in shrines as Skanda,
Muruga, Subrahmanya, Snake.Urdhwareta means sending semen up the spinal
column, for achieving the goal of yoga, samadhi, the state of stilled mind,
which is what married brahmacharis like Mohandas Gandhi experiemented.
Unlike Mahalinga, who was worshiped as one who restrained from ejaculating,
my father was a human adhoreta.His semen went always down .My father
belonged to an era when the technology of instant ejaculation had become the
monoploy of Indians! The sad part is that by neglect these children do not
survive long enough to overtake in the population race.I may point out even
poet
Rabindranath Tagore was his mother's thirteenth child.But the Nobel Prize
winning poet was about 50 year's senior to my father! The poets' feudal
father then was three generations ahead of my father.My mother's 14th child,
my youngest brother is now in his mid forties with just one son and a
daughter.
Now for comparison and contrast the tradition and reality,consider
this: I had the opportunity to read a news story early May 2006.In my running
commentary on life from the time historically unknown but mythologically
related in Mahabharata as "itihasa" , or history, the news story should help
to compare the mythological events with the contemporary, even though
very rare one.
Ms.Sabine Hilschenz, of Frankfurt a.Oder., East Germany,a woman
grown up under proletariat dictatorship, killed her eight new born babies!
According to the current dictatorship of the proletariat doctrine,workers of
the world,all united, should be content with the minimum quality of
life, just enough to meet the necessities to live and work.This explains
why the Communist Party of India Marxist Leninist (CPML) led Left Front
government in West Bangal,still keeps alive, the practice of man pulling a
cart loaded with human passengers! I remember now, "Golpitha", which was
a poem by a sweeper's son turned poet, Namadev Dhasal. He was the leader of
the India's Black Panther Movement,whose name was borrowed from the U.S.
black political party. "Golpitha", concerned the district around which
Bombay's prostitute tenements are located.In the poem he advised Indian
brahmins and communists to swim in the sewage drains which are covered
by a manhole and then report on their expriences. It is compatible with
basic Hindu doctrine. That is, the place of action remains this world but for
enjoyment one should go to heaven.The communist doctrine also believes that
humans enjoy rights to work,but not for adequate compensation for the
work.The workers have rights to own means of production collectively,
but the fruits of their work goes to the community.They have no individual
right of adequate compensation for productive work! The workers , thus,
should live lives of minimum quality.Higher quality aspirations are
denounced officially as "petit bourgeois" or "bourgeois".The real reason of
the collapse of the Soviet Empire was because the hardliners, just like Mao's
Gang of Four, which led the Chinese Cultural Revolution,denounced quality
of life derived from education. The worst example of this was under
Cambodia's Pol Pot regime. As for the Hindus, today they think India is
heavens and hell mingled together basically as enjoyment and experience ,and
the developed West is the place for work.
Reverting to the news report I read I am looking for some clue
for the psychological basis of Sabine Hilschenz's actions. She is the third
and last daughter of Martha, and Eberhard Hilschenz from the county of
Brieskow-Finkenheerd,in East Germany.Now she is living in East Germany.
She was her father's darling.He died in 2002.When in school Sabine had
the top ranking. She went to Eisenhuttenstadt to get trained as a dental
assistant.A year later, as sweet eighteen, in about 1983 , she made friends
with Oliver,who was to work with the East German intelligence (STASI) as an
official. Oliver was her charming prince "Shantanu" of 21st century.Shantanu
of old was a Hindu king,father of the great Bhishma and grand father of the
Pandava princes, who fought the Mahabharata war several thousand years ago,
as related by Mahabharata "Itihasa", history! Shantanu let his wife kill his
first seven infant sons at birth by throwing them into the Ganges waters.
So it was Sabine's first love. She slept with him to get pregnant even
before marriage. Her parents were far from happy as she was still young and
inexperienced. But they accepted reality. Sabine's first child, Steffi was
born facing resentment from her boyfriend Oliver, the newly appointed secret
service agent of the "STASI".Proletariat spy.Oliver was then 21.He made
it clear to Sabine not to have more babies.Sabine promised to take care with
pills but pills were not available in the proletariat dictatorship.Theresult:
she got pregnant continuously. Her next child was Dans, a boy.When she
became pregnant the third time , she withheld the fact from her
husband for six months and managed to keep the child.The third,
a boy Ivo, was let to survive. From then on Sabine hid her pregnancies and
let her husband rape her without resistance even during pregnancies,with the
result that , she took to drinking vodka,the best drink proletariat society
offered.She could drink as much as three bottles a day, that is 2.25 litres.
Her fourth child appeared just before 1989. She killed the infant but ,the
mode of killing is not revealed. She managed to recycle the relics of her
infanticide into flowers and live with them.Some vegetables and green
spices like Petersilie, peppermint etc. were cultivated in the pots of the
infanticide relics and made food tasty for herself,husband and even guests!
After the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989, Oliver was exposed as a
secret service "STASI" man. He was transferred to the customs department,
then he lost his job.Because Oliver lost his job, they could not pay rent
and Sabine and Oliver had to move.They moved to a new place and
the infanticide balcony pots moved with them to be kept carefully behind the
garrage.Their marriage then broke up. Sabine married again in 2002 to get
her 14th child, Elisabeth in 2003, who is today three years old. By chance
last July, Sabine's cousin visited her.When he went behind the garrage,
unnoticed by Sabine, he hit the jealously guarded flower pots,only to
discover the traces of skulls of human infants.The scandalous cases of eight
culpable homicides were launched against her.The first case was barred and
dropped because it was before the fall of the Berlin Wall and German
reunification.Sabine is a strong charachter. She loved her babies. If not as
humans, she felt she could see her children as recycled vegetables and
flowers! At the Frankfurt a.O. court, where she stands trial accused of
seven counts of infanticide, she feeds Elisabeth, her last child. She
is like a normal mother with a baby bottle mocking at Oliver, her ex-STASI
husband,standing as witness!
In this 21st century compare this to the Mahabharata's vertical
gossip, Bhishma episode, in the story of eight "vasu" ministers of
the Vedic King of gods, Indra. King shantanu fell in love with Ganga,the
female form of the Hindu sacred river Ganges,at first sight.Before marriage
Shantanu had promised Ganga, his love, that he would respect her individual
feminine rights without question. Then Indra's ministers, because of the
Guru Vasishta's curse, were compelled to take human birth. They asked Ganga
to be their mother.She consented.When they were born she consigned each of
her first seven infants to the flowing waters of the sacred river, to send
seven of the ashtavasus, "eight ministers", back to god Indra as his
ministers!As the queen went and threw the eigth child King Shantanu
prevented her as he could not desist. At once, she called off relations with
the King but before abandoning him left with the last son, who grew as
Devavrata, later known as Bhisma, the grand uncle of Pandavas and Kaurava
princes.The saved Prince Bhishma,also known as Shantanava,reprtedly
appointed my great great great (several thousands of times great) grand
father.Drona as his military teacher for the Kaurava and Pandava princes.
Drona, my great great great ....grand father was so poor, being unable to
provide cow's milk to his son, he was forced to convert rice flour , mixing
it with water to make a synthetic milk to feed Ashwatthama, my great grand
old forefather.He grew up a brahmin criminal having killed five sleeping
princely children of the Pandavas just before the end of the notorious
Mahabharata war of eighteen days. His father Drona,died by heart attack as
he was leading the Mahabharata war hearing a rumour his son was dead.
My great great father Drona himself was born from the semen ejaculated
by masturbation into an earthen pot! That explains his name Drona meaning
pot born.The provocation was O o opa Drona's father Bharadvaja saw
Ghritachi, the heavenly prostitute /angel/apsara bathing in a stream naked.
he was excited.He masturbated and ejaculated on a pot. I should mention that
this grand Opa, whose label is attatched to me, to whom I call out three
times day during prayer, was not an ordinary sage. His father was Angirasa
maharishi's son, to whom many Vedic hymns are attributed.He was born as an
illegitimate son of the sage Brihaspati.Mamata, who was the wife of sage
Utathya, maintained love relations with her boy friennd , Brihaspati,
without the knowledge of her husband.Thus Mamata was carrying in her womb
twins, one from her legitimate husband Uthaya,and another from her lover,
Angirasa's son Brihaspati. In her womb there broke out a fight between the
legitimate occupant of the womb, Dirghatamas and illegitimate baby, who
would be Bharadvaja, my great great grandfather founder of my
gotra.Asserting his legitimate occupancy right,as baby, Dirghatamas kicked
the illegitimate baby Bharadvaj out first.Then,Brihaspati, Mamata's lover,
told her to take care of his son. He said carry the twice begotten child
,(bhara-dva-ja,) which became his name! Because of that my brahmin clan got
his clan name.Today, when I pray three times a day,I have to identify myself
proudly tracing my origin to him and his illegitimate father and his father!
Now you know for three generations, my great great great grand fathers from
my father's side were accused of moral turpitude, unnatural fantasy love and
murderous crimes. Besides, my clan of brahmins were not nursed by a female
womb but by an earthen pot. Please do not be carried away by this story.My
friend,Viennese retired garden assistant Josepth Lorenz says, he was born
during Hitler's war time, on a household waste disposal bucket! That is my
history.
True to the several thousand years old criminal tradition, my
father had one addiction: Raping his own wife. It was not illegal to rape
one's own wife or beat her black and blue, in India when I was a child.
Besides,in the villages, such practices did not come to the notice of the
law enforcement organs of a foreign government. My mother submitted and
suffered. He used to hit my mother in front of my eyes when she was serving
him food. Then after he ate his meal, she was obliged to eat his left over
food in the same banana leaf, she had served him! This is also a tradition
followed for the last several thousand years in brahmin famlies.At times, he
threw food on her head before bashing her down.He got 14+2 children all from
my mother,by beating her day times and making her pregnant during
nights between her 15th and 50th years of age.Then he died in 1993. My
mother followed him about three months later. When my father hit my mother,
he hit with such rage during her early youth. He hit her in the face by
fists particularly at lunch times in front of us, his children, to show that
he was the male and boss! But the boss remained devoted to her.When we were
already more than eight children, he began to persuade her to go with him to
the family pool, for oil bathing.
The pool was carved out on the hill side in Kulamarva, my parental
farm property,with my and my cousin Shankara's help.Taking in our childish
hands a shortened pickaxe we picked into the hill and made a tunnel
increasing water inflow into it. For my father's nightly love or rape of my
mother took place in the pool,not a flowing water but bound on all side to
hold the water almost two metre in depth.Which served them like today's
bath tub! He made her pregnant there on the steps of the swimming pool in
later days. My father's hobby was smoking hand made beedis or cigarettes not
purchased by himself.He chewed tobaco leaves grown in own field,dried and
moistured by himself by a method of storage in a ceramic jar. It was for
some time his single addiction apart from the rape of his own wife. That way
he showed he was a champion. Unfortunately in my village it was unknown to
keep record of feats.If records were kept he would have gone on record as
free smoker of a packet of 25 village cigaretts rolled by hand at one go! He
was indeed a free man brought up in a brahmin class under colonial rule in
an Indian village.
He practised the German system of Dr.Kunhe's naturopathy without
knowing anything about its application.He had heard about mud therapy being
practised in Germany's black forests. In the Alpine regions of Germany and
Austria,the naturopathy practised involved taking mud from the bottoms of
the lakes.The mud, where natural fermentation of herbal deposits in lake
bottoms mixed with soil, took place, developed into a mass or paste.My father
had known no such difference between mud and mud.The Greeks used seaweed for
therapy.My father used, in the name of Dr.Kuhne's system of medicine, the
fresh red earth preferably from laterite stone dust consisting mainly iron
and aluminum hydroxides.He mixed the dust with fresh water to make it a clay
paste. He placed the paste as sandwich in a towel to tie around the waist
for about an hour daily. This was his cure all. Not only he applied on his
own waist for his imaginary illness but also advised others to do the same
against any complaint regarding health. Once when I was 15 years old,
suffering typhoid, he experimented with the same poltices on me. When the
poltice was removed, he made me sit on a tub for about two hours in cold
water. Then he took me on to the mid day sun on the court yard to place me
on a banana leaf bed covered by banana leaf again for a long time. When I
started to howl, my seventeen year old sister Subbamma defied him and draged
me out.She placed my head on her lap, as she began to shed tears crying.
I consider it was her love for me which saved me from imminent death in the
sun!Then after fifteen years,I read reports,in Nagpur, Hitlerite
Nazi-inspired RSS brahmins did a demonstration in this healing method on a
healthy dog and causing the animal's demise,again as if to prove their mental
retardation.All these go to prove in my mother India of today, we live as
our elders' elders' elders through to aboriginal elders' way of living,
allegedly lived according to vertical gossips,I mean "itihasa puranas"
several thousands of years ago.
