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His bowed frame collapsed further on that concrete bench of the railway platform as he kept his head between his knees and hands coming around those knees in the replica of a closed embrace of a departing lover made him to swing involuntarily back and forth with fulcrum on the upper part of his feet. The piercing and acidic whips of that cold winter night were cutting into his flesh with ferocity of a ravaging lunatic. He tried to listen to the voice of that piecing cold as he breathed his breath recoiling back from his groin covered by that soiled half pant. The breathe is dry, putrid and pungent but emitted certain amount of heat to his face, now buried further between his clasped knees. His exposed legs below the knees started rattling in the cold. The silence of the cold night made that inaudible rattling to a loud moan of the deprived. He could not tolerate that moaning. It echoes a tender undertone of deep melancholy and solitary sorrow of a solitary life.
He listened to that moaning; moaning of rattling bone synchronized with dry, aqueous and rumbling breathing of winter night, with his fainting heart beats. The flow of that red liquid in those numerous pipelines with small bore and big bore netted throughout his body, for those carry so called life ,too joined in that moaning by halted flow. He moved his fingers on his face still buried between his knees. One by one, part by part, he sensed through his fingers whiling drawing shadowy figures of those in the sunny and bright landscape of the mind, where everything is clear, vivid and panoramic- the papery wrinkles of the face, the cracked and soared lips with dry blood, those pus filled pimples on the nose, the rough mustache, the dropping ears with semi fluid wax sticking to the wall of that meandering narrow tunnel, all combined together forming the silhouette of shabbiness. It is smoky and foggy with dust of water floating around aimlessly but with purpose to come back to that flowing form ,touches and kisses those little heat hidden in those long slender electric tubes, hanging horizontally from tapered body poles, emitting shadowy light with agitation, hesitation and imperfection. Those little heat infuses enough life to those tiny water dusts to reassemble together and embrace together to roll into one from many, showing the strength of unity and transformation of togetherness and in the end transform them to a drop of water clinging in vain to slippery electric pole, only to roll down after a while under the pull of gravity like those tiny tear drops of uncontrolled sobbing eyes, pulled down with pang and whip of melancholy.
And he too now has gathered enough heat and life back from that closed clasp of knees. Now it is time for move. The first train after mid-night from his town will arrive soon and with it will bring many hopes for him. He will greet the passengers in his mother tongue and they would certainly smile. His hope is growing now like the uncontrolled growth of those unwanted weeds of polluted and stagnant water of sinking pond. The levitating hope bloomed further. He lifted his head out of that clasped knees and burped out air from his mouth to drive out the winter temporarily. The air from mouth was smoky too and that temporarily hided his view from the reality at front. He narrowed his eyes and tried to imagine. People in colorful warm clothes getting down from the train with big old model galvanized tin boxes full of costly and too essentials, those medium sized cloth bags, mouth stitched haphazardly and bulging out like pregnant lady with those not-too- essentials and those plastic carry bags full of cheap-but-immediately-required-essentials. They would carry themselves those plastic bags and at best that cloth bag. But that big galvanized box? It is surely for him to carry. How many passengers he shall attend to?
He looked to his batch number tied to his left upper arm, certifying him as a licensed railway porter. The sparkling yellow metallic plate is perfect match to his dark red shirt and khaki half pant. For a moment the impeding anticipation and expectation on his mind appeared to have dwarfed the menace of that wicked cold night with that iced whip of air. He pulled and stretched his shirt from the bottom to push away those folds big and small on the shirt. He robbed his palms vigorously on his face with a hope of eradicating temporarily those papered wrinkles. He dusted that cement bench for those incoming passengers to sit and wait while he shall serve them one by one, for he is the only porter waiting in that isolated platform for that train which arrives after mid-night when the world outside is comfortably slept. That is the train of hope for him, for senior porters do not allow him to operate in the day when all important trains arrive. He can not the fight against that melee. He can not fight against that jungle’s rule where the power is always the winner.
His mind rushed as the announcing system barked in a drowsy voice the arrival of trains in five minutes. Five minutes of hope. Nay, it is 300 seconds of hope. Hope big and firm. A comforting hope, a levitating hope, a hope as beautiful as super nova and consisting of many splendid novas, exploding and dazzling one after other. Night drew darker and he mused in anxiety and started wringing his hands.
The train is arriving. It is arriving with cacophony of unsynchronized sounds from engine and dry friction between rails and wheels with hissing, rustling, rattling and whooshed of wind from opposite direction. Ultimately it stopped with a shriek. First hands came out from the compartments, then heads from the necks. The heads withdrew first to give way to legs, right for somebody, left for somebody but both for children. Many on platforms now and many still pushing their luggage. But where are those pregnant cloth bags? Where are those galvanized tin boxes full of essentials? Many are boxes with wheels. Boxes with four wheels rolled away like a dog in a chain following the master. Boxes with two wheels walked past him like those chained and obedient dogs of the circus following the masters while walking on behind legs and raising the front legs. In the end somebody with plastic bag in a hand pushed out a big tin box. He rushed toward that passenger in anticipation. “Coolie, Sir.” He waited for permission from the passenger to carry that box. The passenger smiled and pulled out a folded carrier with wheels from that plastic bag. He helped the passenger to position that box on the wheeled carrier. The passenger pushed a soiled five rupee note in his hand as he moved forward.--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He started to move involuntarily as if he is being pulled away by a pair of unseen hand. He walked away from the platform. He felt his senses has been honed and heightened. Everything around him had been carved to a neat illustration. The smoky and iced night gave way to bright and warm dawn as he moved towards mosque. Early morning street hawkers have started displaying their items on sale. Items of palm leaves and palm’s fiber. Suddenly his mind rushed backward as he moved forward to the mosque. His mind flew to his village full of palm trees standing tall and proud. He found him climbing up that tall palm tree with a safety rope encircling him and trunk of the tree. He jumps and moves up in the tree. Palms are visible. Leaves are visible. Sweet smell of round and fleshy palms. One jump. One more jump, the final jump. One more spirited jump. Can he make? Yes, he can.
He could listen to the mass prayer coming out of mosque. It is rhythmic like his heart beat. It is prayer of life. It is leitmotiv of life.
EXOTIC NILGIRIS-5
Now let us come back to Ooty or Udhagamandalam once again, once the darling of erstwhile English rulers of India, Maharajas and upper classes and now the darling of common masses. Before I take you to that train journey amid the hide and seek of light in greenery and that exotic boat riding in Ooty lake, getting immersed in the symphony of pykara lake, let us discovery the origin of the name "Udhagamandalam".
The old name of Ooty was Ootacamund, which was abruptly changed to "Udhagamandalam" in 1972.The name Ootacamund was given by the British when they took possession of the hills after 1820. The name was the nearest they came to pronouncing the original Badaga name for the place,namely,"Hotege".In fact the "Badaga-English Dictionary" by Paul Hockings and Christiane Pilot-Raichoor(1992) confirms that "Hotege" is the common Badaga name for Ootacamund. The spelling of the name, however, had to go through several versions such as Hottegemund, Utakamand, Whatakaimand, Whotakamund, Wootaycamund, Wotokymand, and Wuttacamund and so on. It will be surprising to note that there is absolutely no mention of the name "Udhagamandalam" in Tamil literature or other historical records. It has merely been a convenient adaptation of the English name in Tamil for official and other formal purposes in the post independence period.
Now let us discover Ooty or Udhagamandalam or Ootacamund through couples of short videos and photos. Amongst the places, we see the Rose Park which has been declared as "GARDEN OF EXCELLENCE" by the World Federation of Rose Societies. So, far, 15 rose gardens in different parts of the world have been awarded the "GARDEN OF EXCELLENCE"certificates. This is the first garden from India to get that honor.
THERAPEUTIC VALUE OF INDIAN CLASSICAL MUSIC.
Long before acoustics came to be understood in Europe as a subject of study, the ancient Arab, Greek and Indian civilizations were already familiar with the therapeutic role of sounds and vibrations and the later day concepts pertaining to them. While music as a whole is well recognized for its entertainment value, the Indian civilization had gone a step forward to attribute the curative aspect to music.
The ancient system of Nada Yoga, which dates back to the time of Tantras, has fully acknowledged the impact of music on body and mind and put into practice the vibrations emanating from sounds to uplift one's level of consciousness. It is the Indian genius that recognized that ragas are not just mere commodities of entertainment but the vibrations in their resonance could synchronize with one's moods and health. By stimulating the moods and controlling the brain wave patterns, ragas could work as a complementary medicine.
What is a Raga?
Raga, we all know is the sequence of selected notes (swaras) that lend appropriate "mood" or emotion in a selective combination. Depending on their nature, a raga could induce or intensify joy or sorrow, violence or peace and it is this quality which forms the basis for musical application. Thus, a whole range of emotions and their nuances could be captured and communicated within certain rhythms and melodies. Playing, performing and even listening to appropriate ragas can work as a medicine.Various ragas have since been recognized to have definite impact on certain ailments.
Historic References on Raga Chikitsa.
The ancient Hindus had relied on music for its curative role: the chanting and toning involved in Veda mantras in praise of God have been used from time immemorial as a cure for several disharmonies in the individual as well as his environment. Several sects of "bhakti" such as Chaitanya sampradaya, Vallabha sampradaya have all accorded priority to music. Historical records too indicate that one Haridas Swami who was the guru of the famous musician in Akbar's time,Tan Sen is credited with the recovery of one of the queens of the Emperor with a selected raga.
The great composers of classical music in India called the "Musical Trinity", - who were curiously the contemporaries of the "Trinity of Western Classical Music, Bach, Beethoven and Mozart“ were quite sensitive to the acoustical energies. Legend has it that Saint Thyagaraja brought a dead person back to life with his Bilahari composition Naa Jiva Dhaara. Muthuswamy Dikshitar's Navagriha kriti is believed to cure stomach ache. Shyama Sastry's composition Duru Sugu uses music to pray for good health.
Raga chikitsa was an ancient manuscript, which dealt with the therapeutic effects of raga. The library at Thanjavur is reported to contain such a treasure on ragas, that spells out the application and use of various ragas in fighting common ailments.
Raga Chikitsa(Therapy)
Raga Therapy in India
Living systems show sensitivity to specific radiant energies, be it acoustical, magnetic or electro-magnetic. As the impact of music could be easily gauged on emotions and thereby on mind, it can be used as a tool to control the physiological, psychological and even social activities of the patients
Indian classical music can be classified into two forms: kalpita sangita or composition, which is previously conceived, memorized, practised and rendered and manodharma sangita or the music extemporised and performed. The latter can be equated to the honey-mooner's first night as it conceives both spontaneity and improvisation. It is fresh and natural as it is created almost on the spot and rendered instantly on the spur of the moment.
According to an ancient Indian text, Swara Sastra, the seventy-two melakarta ragas (parent ragas ) control the 72 important nerves in the body. It is believed that if one sings with due devotion, adhering to the raga lakshana (norms) and sruti shuddhi, (pitch purity) the raga could affect the particular nerve in the body in a favourable manner.
While the descending notes in a raga (avarohana) do create inward-oriented feelings, the ascending notes (arohana) represent an upward mobility. Thus music played for the soldiers or for the dancers have to be more lively and up lifting with frequent use of arohana content. In the same way, melancholic songs should go for "depressing" avarohanas. Although it is not a rule, most of the Western tunes based on major keys play joyful notes, while those composed in minor keys tend to be melancholic or serious.
Certain ragas do have a tendency to move the listeners, both emotionally as well as physically. An involuntary nod of the head, limbs or body could synchronize with lilting tunes when played.
Some Therapeutic Ragas
Puriya
Hypertension, phobia, heart disorder
Jaunpuri
Apan disease, constipation, Intestinal Gas Urinary tract infection, colic pain
Darabari Kanada
Headache (Acute), Migraine, mind concentration, Grief, Mental shock
Puriya Kalyan
Anxiety, Leucorroea, Dysmenorrhoea, Abdominal pain
Kedar
Insomnia, Mental retardation, Memory impairment, tonsitis, Rhinitis, Upper respiratory infections
Bhairav
Specifying three dosh diseases, Insomnia, Heart disorder
Shyam Kalyan
Anger, three dosh disorder
Malkauns
Three dosh disorder, fever
Kalavati Rag
Labour pains (Acute), Insomnia, (women delivered safely without strain)
Sam Ved Richa
Labour pain, Insomnia general debility, tissue building
Hindol
Body pain, low backache, musculo-skeletal and neuralogic pain, vat diseases, Rheumatoid arthritis
Deepak
Indigestion, less gastric fire, Hyperacidity
Pata Manjiri
Vomiting, less gastric fire, Anorexia
Megh Malhar
Irritation of Skin, Rakt Pitt, Leprosy, leucoderma, High gastric fire (bhasmaka)
Vasant bahar
Pitt diseases, fever
Asavari
Infertility, impotency, Apan disorder and habitual abortion
Shree
Kaph diseases, swelling, Asthama, common cold weakness.
Bhairavi
Arthritis, Rheumatic disorder, muscular & joins pain, heaviness
Lalit
Rasayan, Vaikaran (improve sex emotion) Nervous break down
Sohani
Shock.
Kaphi
Vat Pitt diseases , mainly eye problems.
Jay-Jayvanti
Pain reliever, kaph & vat pacify, bring happiness.
Conclusion
There is a growing awareness that ragas could be a safe alternative for many medical interventions.Simple iterative musical rhythms with low pitched swaras, as in bhajans and kirtans are the time-tested sedatives, which can even substitute the synthetic analgesics, which show many a side-effect. They are capable of leading to relaxation, as observed with the alpha-levels of the brain waves. They may also lead to favourable hormonal changes in the system.