Rising High, Plunging Low

Our own conservative wisdom reiterates that every thing which sets to rise is bound to fall. But we seldom experience it as far as commodity prices are concerned. They kept on increasing despite heaves and sighs, and I find myself amused to tell children that groundnut oil costed only Rs 2.50 way back in late sixties. This some thing like my mother telling me that a gold sovereign was priced at Rs.3/- in her childhood. My children did not take so much time to talk about low prices of their childhood, recollecting that rice was as low as Rs.4.50 per kilo in early nineties even much before they grow old.Again getting into flash back of my days a meager salary of Rs. 350 was envied by many as plenty. A four roomed house did not cost more than Rs.100/-. Retirements benefits amounted to few lakhs and pensions being fixed to few hundreds.. our lives were in a small gambit of things until we discovered that there is plenty of money around.

Tired looking workaholic old man was astonished to know that an young boy who did not work more hours or years is pocketing five digited salary. His superannuation of thirty years toil is not even close to the boy's annual drawings. The boy being his son he felt happier than envious. He thought that his dream of possessing fat bank deposits will materialize very soon, while cost of Idly remains Rs3/- and Brinjal prices restricted to Rs.2/-. He never knew that every thing is set to rise in huge magnitude.

His broken leg punished him with fat hospital bill. Soon he realized that he was eating more vegetables than required. He was adamant to pull three ten notes from his pocket to bag dozen bananas. He developed new found fancy for long hair for fear of handing "Green Note" to a barber. Newly bought small chain shining in his daughter's neck stole his sleep for two nights. His prudent telephone calls never seemed few. His scooter looked old with huge appetite for petrol. Cinema in T.V. appeared more convenient than frequently visited theaters. His is tired of listening to his son's continuous cell phone rings and midnight door bells." Save some money in the bank" he advised his son to get a reply "Daddy , now a days no body saves money in the bank. Returns are not attractive. It is better to invest in share markets". His conventional wisdom says it is not good to speculate, yet he is driven by enthusiasm to explore new avenues. He agreed for his son to decide.

His neighborhood Pan Dabba walah boats about his son sending him bags and bags of money from Australia. His servant maid talks about her new fridge. His dhobi comes on new motorbike. Through his son he is learning new vocabulary called "EMI". His son is finding it hard to push his huge car into the small gate which is good enough for two scooters. There is plenty of money around, old man felt. He could not enter a temple on Navarathri day due to heavy rush. He felt bad for not trying hard when told that the deity was nicely decorated with flowers and newly acuired ornaments. He grew tired of his wife's cooking yet did not find a place in good restaurants due to heavy rush. He thought of drinking a soda in the waiting time and l finally resolved to go back home as he felt bloated stomach. His walking tracks are filled with new enthusiasts with fancy track shoes. When he found even alarm at 5 A.M is not sufficient to take a peaceful stroll he decided to stay back.

He noticed that his child hood "Sara Batti" has slowly transformed into modern pub and his victim being his son. His friends consoled him that these things are common these days, he reluctantly compromised. He decided to blindfold himself when his son was courting three girls at a time. He was embarrassed with a visiting credit card official demanding default payment from his son. It was an uphill task for him to figure out who that Tommy Hill Figure was, who charged his son Rs.40000 for four pants.

When he found that his money gathered all his life is not sufficient to get his daughter married with escalating expenses he was left speechless.There is not enough money around, he felt for the first time.

The two bedroom flat which his son proposed to buy refused to come down to less than half a million and he apprehended that his son will not be able to clear his huge debt and remain under neck deep debt all his life. His debt free past life remained a precious memory in his archives. There is not enough money he felt. When he decided that he should repair his old house, he was advised by his son to give his house for development. "Where do we stay?" he questioned his son. "Developer will five us 40% of the total number of flats constructed.We can retain few and sell some" replied his son. Though contended he felt inexplicable pain some where in his heart. He bothered more about his mango tree, Chameli creeper he fondly grew in his back yard. The idea that he could never enjoy his summer breeze in a garden chair made him grievous. The developer did not give him any money initially, but promised to share as and when flats are booked, which never happened.

He was dumb struck looking at the soaring rentals when he had to search for a leased house since house is under demolition. Rents eating away large chunk of their incomes the leased house did not look more than a mouse trap, with perennial yelling from neighborhood coupled with overflowing drainage in the kitchen.He thought that he should have lived in a better apartment, but rents seemed astronomical. There is not enough money he felt. The killer A.C, the white elephant like car, expensive couch, plasma T.V., frost free refrigerator do not seem to have bought any more happiness into his life.

His half finished flat looked barren with few pillars and uncompleted walls. No wonder the walls of his demolished house looked better with quality bricks, rather than uncompleted walls with hallow cement bricks in his designated flat. But he knew he cannot open his mouth. He succumbed to the greediness at one weak moment. "Real estate is not doing well, it is hard to sell the flat now" told the developer. He could understand that completion of his flat is postponed indefinitely . There is not enough money around he felt. His son came home early from office only to drop a bombshell "I lost my job". For father it was a shocker. Even a stupid survived minimum for thirty years in his office. Being job less is some thing which can be experienced only in teens according to his experience. But the reality is different , and he knew that he cannot do any thing about it. " Can you manage with your savings till you are hired?" he asked his son. " I have every thing in stocks. Markets are crashing we have to wait few more years to realize out investment" He knew he can not do any thing about it too. At best he can do a thing which he knew best "Wait". There is not enough money he felt.

"Let me teach maths to few students" he thought. Students number grew after couple of months. As his son did not get a break through he joined father with his engineering maths skills." Always save some money for a rainy day" He told his son. His son looked up and listened carefully "Yes daddy, you are right" he spoke in earnest. After a week father fetched a contract termination letter in his doorway from a credit card company addressed to his son. He sighed with relief. "We should have just repaired our house dad" his son told regretfully. " No problem, let us wait" consoled his father. The white elephant like car was struggling to start in the garage with low battery. Half raised walls of his flat, immobile car remain as reminiscent of his past life. The new neighborhood did not seem so bad. He is getting used to the yelling.

He is Subba Rao/ Madhavan/ Nambiar/ Mittal/ or Subroto, he is some body who grew up in India where money was a scarce commodity. Inadequacy was an order than a malady. He has learned his survival lessons from his walking on his narrow slippery steps. He has seen India where money is abundantly felt, seen, experienced. He is not quite sure whether his old world in deprivation was better. Yet he could understand that his new world with leaps and bounces is very transitory in nature. He perceived that he should always be with his emergency backpack ready to evacuate. He should learn to enjoy his leisure in the roadside while passing. His innate wisdom tells him that he was not brought up to be a nomad.Green meadows, settlements, community, seasonal crops, reasonable barter, would keep him at peace.Yet he was made to be on his constant journey. He found electrifying activity while passing on his road, incredible vistas, glazed structures, inconceivable creations. He thought in the first place they are going to be there with him for long. Yet his inescapable plunges made him wiser. He took note that indulgence did not make him happier. He is not going to be conjured up by the calling. " Let me not slide" he prayed his god.

Crystler building, Sear towers, Empire state building, WTC , Twin towers, Dubai World, they were not built to fall yet every raise is succeeded by a failure. It is high time we understand the underlying flux of the framework. The giants crash with a thud. The countries which have not yet substantially tread into international trade or commerce, and striving with half digested borrowed hypothesis remained safe and immune. It is the time to question ourselves. . Is there a need to look into home grown judgment? Should we check our hurry to be a stereo type? Did humanity loose some thing very essential in it's hot chase for commodity?

People's Issues Which Don't Belong To People

The chairs of floors have to be fixed with nails. The Speaker has to wear a bullet proof jacket. The wooden benches have to be replaced with immovable light material stuff. That is the situation in the houses of our political representatives, be it a state Assembly or Parliament. Many M.Ps don't find time to attend to the Parliament sessions. Never an issue has been tabled by them. Large number of them don't pose a single question in their long tenure extending a decade or more. We never hear an intelligent speech from any one of them but for hysteric outrages. Repeated warnings from the speaker to end the speech is never paid attention until they are forcibly removed from the house. Despite the CCTV footage they do not fear getting into scuffles and manhandling. People often hear a far out cry for issues which they never know or care. Issues of little consequence to the people make headlines.

This is how our parliamentary democracy of of 60 years standing representing a little over billion people functions to day. The gross indiscipline displayed by an adult politicians is no better than an incorrigible child in spoilt class room atmosphere. It looks almost that internal working of corrupt system is better known to the people who are engaged in it, and whenever their personal interest are clashing the Parliament or Assembly is made a platform for ventilating their resentment.

The minings which were conveniently perpetuated for over a decade with the blessings every party in power suddenly bursts out as a public issue for a political mileage. The man on the street is perplexed and will want to know what is happening and rushes to fetch a political magazine or glued to the T.V. The channels urgently put up discussions calling every knowledgeable person on earth and issue is made available for the public. The demolition which occurred almost two decades ago suddenly crops up and furor is made out either to sidetrack or camouflage the offenses committed by the parties as a whole. Dangerous issues were not allowed to die their natural death. With a temple in every corner of the street people did not seem particularly interested in building one specially wrestling with other communities way back in early nineties before serious indoctrination programmes were envisaged. It seemed it is the leader who wanted to build a temple as well as a vote bank.

Time and again they are retrieved to make people conscious and bitter. All of a sudden the sentiments or interest of one state get hurt with too many unwanted settlers. Sense of pseudo regionalism is induced in the minds of innocent people, only..just only to make perpetrator's presence felt, and serve their ends. Widely admired cricketer would be harshly criticized for not "doing any thing to people of his state". Hence "Doing some thing to one's own people" is legalised.

Nuclear deals are either pushed or blocked only by the knowledgeable parties, while a common man, including news channels do not have much information about it. Innocent sugar cane former is driven to the streets to vandalise. Support praise eventually remained the same. Innocent tribal are made to hear the talk of development by a leader who looted them with enormous wealth, giving Enforcement Directorate three misses.

Just a municipal election crosses it's limits and touches the height of Assembly election in terms of canvassing and manipulations. Glossy pamphlets, CDs, dinners, liquor, roaming SUVs, all these costs are excluding the amount paid to buy a ticket. It is an investment where you get assured returns. "Nation on sale" Submit your tender.

Not more than 46% turn out to cast their vote. Fifty percent of the votes polled are from the vote banks. Out of the is 46% votes polled, one third of the votes are sufficient to get a candidate elected. In short a corporator can get elected with meagre 12% votes polled and 6% of the votes being from the traditional vote banks. In summation six people out of every hundred can decide the fate of multitudes who ply on the jammed roads, who live with persisting water problems and encroached foot paths, and uncleared garbage at the end of the street. Still people loved to enjoy their holiday than walking few yards to the polling booth. All the parties know about it. So never the problems of power supply, roads,price rise, water, emissions, traffic, garbage disposal never figure in their agendas. The people's issues with universal application like secularism, poverty, external aggression and nuclear deal will be projected in most ambiguous terms so that people can not figure out any thing from them.

Urban voter who ventilates his anger and frustration at the slightest opportunity has no time to cast his vote, the only weapon he has got to choose his politicalsystem and everyday life. So it is the government of the politicians, by the politicians and for the politicians. People have no role to play in it.

Choose To Respond

I heard a life awakening speech by Brahmakumaris which happened with a flick of my figure on my T.V. remote conveying me that I have a "Right to choose my response".

On the surface of it, it looks no more than "Any way you cannot change your circumstances so better get used to the filth by changing your attitude so that it will not pain you any more"

"You have right to remain silent" says the cop while arresting a suspect which can be interpreted in two ways that you are not required to speak under coercion or polite "shut up". That is what many in the world do,and it can manifest into counterproductive maladjustment.

After pondering over the phrase, it began to look very precious. The words of wisdom certainly mean more than what they simply appear to be. The words of wisdom which were passed on through generations stayed in vogue for quite few centuries by virtue of their deep insight into the essence of human nature. After some deliberations I could interpret these far reaching words of unique sense in my own humble way and concluded that they should certainly be labelled as the words of discovery and renaissance.

Forgiveness has been considered as a virtue by great teachers since time immemorial. No other than Gandhi asked us to show another cheek for retribution. But forgiveness as a whole in practice is a very very hard and difficult thing to go down the throat when we are extremely hurt or other person is mean by all means. We fume with anger, and some times hanker for retaliation. A step further revenge is conceived depending upon the mindset of the victim. As far as I am concerned I find it very hard to conceive or sustain it. So I reflected into milder responses.

Responding with passivity I presume could not have been the idea of our sages . Responding to a situation or provocation taking the situation in totality should have been the concept. Look at the person who is trying to hurl abuses or blame you. He is doing it for his own reasons. He might have truly believed that you are not a person of his liking. Or may be he is trying to mask his lapses by blaming you.It is also possible that he is envious of you. He might have genuinely believed that you need a rebuke . The very image of "you" in his perspective is based on many factors. His relation with you, his expectations, his belief system, his background, his motives, his past experiences, his fear, his impulses.. any of the above could be a reason for his behaviour. Our simple task is to figure out what is working in his mind at the moment. Rather than going into the root cause we prefer to meddle with our toppled expectations. We expect certain behavioural obligations whom ever we encounter as a practice. Our failed expectations make us fret and fume . We try to fix the problem either with a fight or resistance and often meet with failures.

Why we fail in our attempts to correct a person? The chances of correcting a person in most cases are .01 percent since the other man is equally vehement in resisting your efforts. He believes that he is right and needs no correction. While in the process of making corrections we conveniently forget factors that we have no right to correct any body. And our corrections are not necessarily corrections. These failures throw us into deep despair and frustrations. So rip all the expectations from your mind and try to see a thing in it's pristine form. The object which you are targeting may look harmless, may look naive,or it may look even ugly. It's harmless and naive looks may not bother you and rather they may evoke sympathy. But how to deal with ugliness? The ugliness is to be dealt with seriousness. The "ugly" is ugly because you prefer to call it ugly. Ugly is like a duckling which in true nature might be beautiful. The beauty lies in your eyes and in you mind. An inward look into the core could redefine the concept of ugliness. How I was looking to him? By any chance am I too aggressive? Am I too selfish ? I might be too loud, might be too peevish , maybe I am too lazy, or too possessive. We turn a blind eye to our own pitfalls.Any or all of the above factors might be making him ugly. The ugliness has other side too. It is pushing you harder towards self evaluation.

At the other angle of inspection we find our expectations too unrealistic too impracticable. Even if they are practicable he has no inclination to practise them. He might be having thousand reasons for doing so. Why can't we have thousand reasons for insisting when others have thousand reasons to skip them?

In the new light of reasoning one can give his own elucidation to a wise saying. With the backdrop of all the behavioural sciences , and self management sciences crashing down either for being too shallow or too narrow the ancient wisdom could be revisited with a new born lantern.

His thousand reasons to skip or blatant rejection can be attributed to his weakness. Our concern is whether that weakness could be understood in the right sense or to be frowned upon? Am I rightly judging the failure on his part as weakness. Is it aptly named as weakness? If you understand his failure as weakness it is most certain that you stand on the higher plane. You are giver and he is taker. With no ego complexities involved here, you enjoy the satisfaction of giving a thing at your will. You are not going be rejoiced for the acceptance or frustrated with the rejection. First make your treasure available.Watch when it is being used . How it is being used is not your concern. If he is failing to do that consider he has not made himself worthy of it.

If you still are zealous about going into the higher plane the weakness which you comprehend is not weakness at all. Your hypothesis do not change it's attributes. In it's purest form it is vicissitude of being. I has no vein of it's own.

Practiced tolerance in mundane world can have rebound effect. Tolerance with the modified form of understanding never rebounds. Do not compare yourself with someone who responds differently. Divergence should be accepted with natural understanding. Why I am not unhappy for being tall? Why I am not unhappy for having long hair? Why am I not unhappy for loathing curds? Why am I not unhappy for loving roses instead of jasmines? Because we accept natural variations as constitution. One of our subjects responds to stimuli according to the intensity of chemicals surging through his veins. He is acting with his marred recollections. He is acting with his rattled suppositions. For some reason he is failing to analyze them or trying with a wrong elucidation. Why should I disrupt my composure by reacting to his improperly ciphered codes? My fortitude is precious. Let this be used for my development. Let me reap more and more from this universe. It needs enormous sagacity, gusto and cognizance. Let me learn some thing from these people who tend to be hostile with me. I could not have learnt this much without them.

This is what I could interpret from a small phrase of enormous wisdom. This wisdom is to be applied in extraordinary ciscumstances. If we fail to react in most appropriate way in the normal circumstances we cease to reverberate indeed.Then we become a dingy who strives for personal salvation rather than being a ship carrying several.

Khushi Se

An extra buck is always dearer than regular paycheck. I thought this faulty thinking is existing only in Indian mindset. But I realized my mistake when my suitcase was thrown out of a van run by an authority which is supposed to take care of the public transportation on some price in Las Vegas , though I offered polite thank you as soon as my suitcase has been identified but I never made an attempt to fetch a dollar from my valet.

In Newyork privately owned sight seeing bus tour guide was extra polite to the potential tourists and they did not hesitate display a board reading“ Tips from the tourists are welcome”.

Exorbitant tip culture becomes painful at times where the service rendered is mediocre. With burning heart you have to paste a plastic smile on you lips with sweet "Thank you". May be it is not unusual that a bearer may spit in your plate just before serving if he bothers to remember your tip repulsive face.

Way back in India right from the day we are out into the world on our own the first thing we get to know is all about this some thing extra which is to be offered in return to the service at any place. You might have paid corresponding fee or service charge or what so ever, things will not go the way they ought to.The legitimate service for which you are charged becomes some thing extra constitutional and unattainable until one paid Samaritan is spotted by you. The regular simple service suddenly becomes the toughtest job in the world, and a tangle which is to be resolved only by that good kind gentle man. Grease his palm, instently you are amazed to figure out how bright and friendly he can be. If his motivation points are set right he can be very usefulto the society. Normally this is the plight of many who want to get their things lawfully. But there is another creed of people who can not wait, who don’t want to stand in the line, who don’t want to be rejected even for their lapses , and those who thrive on loopholes and have flare for violating norms. In this case this paid Sumaritan assumes the role of a fecilitator or mediator.

The extra buck paid by people either to get their things done either willingly or unwillingly is called “ Bakhis” or “Mamul” or “ gift” or “Inam”. Call it by any name it smells the same rotten. You pay to the door keeper to meet an official, you pay to the peon who puts a seal on the paper, you pay to the hospital security to get into it . For a long time these petty payments remained hazards of lesser nature albeit their potential to crash the system in the long run.

The days have changed. In the back drop of value degradation at all levels petty offenders have turned boors with abominal records. With this disease looming large we are forced to pay extra buck for prevention of some calamity befalling on us. To obiviate withholding of some essential service than for taking an additional favour. “Khushi se “ has made an advent. The power line is not repaired until the the lineman is please. Telephone will not be restored unless the telephone mechanic is satisfied. The sewage, waterline, sanitation, postage, none of the services don’t work efficiently until they are pleased amply. In all the financial transactions "Khushi Se" is delivered with promptness.

Height of this malignancy is found in the news paper reports about new born babies being not shown to parents in the government hospitals until few hundreds are coughed down. There is no wonder even if the baby is harmed or changed for not paying couple of hundred. People are smart enough to identify key areas where people can be pinned down, coerced, and rendered helpless. Like not allowing to visit an operated patient, not allowing the attendants where it is permissible, not administering life saving medicines when it is require, not attending to the patient with a bedpan , malicious designs of making personal gains on another man's needs or helple ness. The more we get into it the more loathsome it gets.

There we see relatives of a dead man claiming the body from the mortuary. The ward boy stretches his hand for money and adds” Khushi Se” The kith and kin of the dead man look at him with pale faces. Realizing his mistake a habitual money monger bits his tongue. He has been transferred from maternity ward on that very day. He rephrases his words .
“Gum se”. No wonder one rowdy element in the kin crowd gripped by the wild desire to kick him in the rear, pounced on him.

My Broomstick

The moment you land here there awaits an exiting piece of news. It is Madhu Koda, who had been the Chief Minister for just over couple of years , with his thousands of crores swindled in a hurry. It is only a tip of the iceberg. Many more disguised fortunes to be divulged in the form of SEZ, investments, money transfers to many more big companions. The money siphoned is equal to the fifth of entire state budget for the whole year. The money equalled to it’s annual deficit. The money equal to it’s rail road project. Money which can uplift ten of thousands of impoverished, ill fed, illiterate 30 percent of tribal population. The mineral rich state remained in darkness for generations together. But this man wants to stockpile his riches for his future generations whose face he is not going to see.

This is no news to at all to unnerve. It only a piece of information that gives us a new perspective to the magnitude and commonality of this sorts.. Except people who work in banks , a common man is not likely to see a core in his life time in currency. But the money available to an average politician could be whopping millions. He had better chance of acquiring fabled riches more than any other profession on law of averages.
It is the undercurrent dangerous reality of emergence of a clout called political class.

Is it not astounding that we are capable of generating so much wealth in the country in a wink for no conceivable legitimate purpose.? It is also a rude shocker that so much can be turned foul with so much ease. It is a spiteful knowledge that there stand an emboldened bunch of people in every close corner to confront you and me with a naughty smile “catch me if you can”. There is a canny thug in white Kurta Pyjama a typical uniform for bragging, plundering and hoodwinking.. A class which is dangerously spreading like a virus. and slowly paralyzing every organ of the society. Take a look at the police who is touching the feet of chief minister, a murderer, manipulator and fake guru. Glance at media who have loads of political tilts. Read the judgements written with shivering hands. Look at the ambulances with dying patient waiting for a person in convoy who is charged with murder. Look at the people on the road who salute to any beggar clad in white. . Is it fear or cupidity?.

He is no more a sensation. He had many predecessors like Antulay, Bhajan lal, Devilal, Yadav, Chenna Reddy, Bofors, they made furors but none seem to have gone to gallows. As of now some alive some dead. None remembered. Who bothers to remember all of them? I have to pay my Phone bill, I have to book my railway ticket, I have to meet my sales target. People are busy. Above all they all know about it.

The moment some thing is unearthed there is a corporate hospital to give an asylum. His blood pressure shoots up to 135/85 ...more than normal, he has his breathing problem ..with clogged nose , he has flatulence ..which sounds like heart attack … all critical illnesses in a row. He needs to be under constant supervision of super specialist who has hundred reasons to skip an ordinary dying patient.

This is a class of ten or fifteen thousands of them who have direct access to the the money which belongs to one billion inept people. Many more aspirants in foray .. In Toto we have one swine in every thousand who is secretly plotting to usurp your entitlement. . In addition to petrify you. To my knowledge no other country has so many government servants. As well .no country has so many pilferers with social sanction.

Telugu Talli (Mother Telugu)

We don't take language courses to acquire it. We don't worry about it's linguistic aspects before we utter a word. The speech which touches the innards of your heart, the sound which is familiar to every cell of your body, the groan which leaps involuntarily from your mouth at times of pain, it is your native language, the mother tongue.. It is as comfortable as our cosy home . It is as fragrant as bunch of flowers. It is as sweet as nectar. It is as lucid as fresh water stream. It is undeniable fact that people who speak the same language group together wherever they are. Language bonds the people in invisible ways.

Researches prove that two or three languages learnt simultaneously in formative years can be acquired with the same ease and eloquence. But many may not have that opportunity. Like those many, I never had the opportunity to learn any other language other than my mother tongue in my childhood. Telugu being my mother tongue I started learning it in the first place and English and Hindi were introduced much later in curriculum. Being situated in heartland of of Andhra Pradesh with no close borders with any state except Bay of Bengal on one frontier, our Telugu has no external afflictions of what so ever.

Though my first love was always English I have acquired reasonable proficiency over my mother tongue as I was taught every subject in curriculum in the medium of Telugu up to High school level. So is the case with many boys and girls of my generation. Door Darshan National networks and Hindi cricket commentary with " Ballebaz and Chakka" appeared much later , and English news channels were not even conceived . Therefore our Telugu was chaste and lucid. My extra interest in Telugu literature made me accomplished. And I am very proud that I had the opportunity to go through many Telugu works produced by master craftsmen and geniuses.

Telugu fictions, non fictions, biographies, poetry , literary criticism, novels, stories, few epics, every kind of genre was considered worth reading by me. I think I am fortunate to have done all this long before Telugu started decaying. Telugu weeklies used to adorn every house and their serials, stories were meticulously followed by every literate house hold. In a world where knowledge sources were very limited and inaccessible, it is the Telugu weekly which provided me some insights into the world literature. Many articles, proverbs, quotes were cut and preserved in my binder. The writers were at their best and editors were virtuous. They hosted photography , cartoons, poems, jokes, and drawings by various talented artists.I am sure many of the artists of yesteryear got their break only by contributing to weeklies and news papers. The sketches drawn for stories or serials were classic. The great artists who had no art exhibitions of their own in those days, drew their best pictures to express them selves through the fictional characters of the literature.

It was small world. The people and their work spread through magazines and radios. Radios broad casted invaluable programmes and music. Writers, radio artists were considered as celebrities.Many art forms flourished with the help of these tools. People became popular through media and magazines. They worked up as my windows to the outside world. Every piece of information was preserved and memorized. I saw the world through the eyes provided by them.

The language used in all the art forms was impeccable. They tried to rise the common man to the highest literary standards. I knew some people in the working class memorizing and reciting the toughest poems. Proletariat went to the art. As there were fewer impending commercial interests, healthy competition existed between publishers. Let alone writers, even editors ,artists had literary backgrounds and every one was like a sea of knowledge. I am privileged to have interacted with many illustrious personalities. They were the sources of many literary movements. They were motivators and trend setters. Telugu novel had reached it's pinnacle of fame. Telugu story won international award (Palagummy Padmaraju "Galvana") Movies took the inspiration from the novels. Language standards have been set and deviations were frowned and condemned.By all means that is the golden period for Telugu literature in modern era.

The language which evolved from the Dravidian origin, seemingly had origins as early as 1000 B.C. and after great deal of evolution took it's recognizable written literary form in 1100 A.D as translation of "Mahabharata" by Nannaya Bhattu. From then onwards there was no looking back till recent times . With a distinctive vowel punch at the end which renders weight and beauty to the sentence it is lauded as Italian of the East, and praised by Subhramanya Bharati as Sandara Telugu. It's flow is very intensive and very prolific. It absorbed many words from Sanskrit and for those who have good knowledge of Telugu can easily understand Sanskrit. If Indus valley civilization were attributed to the Dravidian's, it has one of very ancient linguistic origins of the world. Like other Dravidian languages it has a distinct quality . It doesn't seem similar to any other language of the world except to it's Dravidian counterparts, an independent language system as a whole. It's cogency qualifies it to be one of the widely spoken languages of South India until it is threatened in recent years. From the most unuspicious quarters, and for the reasons beyond one's comprehension, the language which attained a classical stature over hundreds of years fell into course of degradation.

The gradual sinking standards of the education in government school led to the mushroom growth of mediocre English Medium schools . The defective language formulae and and laxity in implementation by the government could be attributed to the existing pathetic condition of the language.. In the cultural front it is being distorted and murdered by numerous T.V. anchors who can barely read or write Telugu. While the norms of good diction and acting are dying their natural death, larger than life film heroes are contributing their might in homicide.

It is pathetic that many of the youngsters do not understand few regular Telugu words unless they are being translated into English. It does not make them more proficient in English too. Speaking Telugu is a disqualification for many aspiring heroins. Unless a song sung by a stammering outlandish singer is squeezed into the movie it does become a runaway hit. At least t it is believed to be so. Telugu magazines which ruled roost have vanished from the market and remaining ones assumed mega commercial ambitions. The language used in movies is tortured and twisted by the linguists who never fail to look at the language with caste or regional deductions. A single dubbing artist with fake vocal histrionics for multiple roles bore us to death. People have completely lost the sense of standard Telugu. Every child reciting "Humpy Dumpy sat on a wall" ends up with inability to identify an animal with a local name, and giggles only when it is called either "elephant" or "Horse". Parents have no inclination to recite few verses to the child nor teach a word of Telugu at home. There is no wonder the language is certainly facing decadence and we are clueless . I don't see this trend in case of other languages like Hindi or Tamil where people though being eloquent speakers in English, never falter in speaking in their mother tongue.

English education for every child is essential prerequisite in present day global village. But no one condescends for speaking in mother tongue. Reasonable proficiency can be achieved if the efforts are put in by both government and people.Many school registers show "English" as mother tongue to some children, a situation arising out of cross cultural marriages. I fail to understand why any one parent cannot pass on his or her mother tongue to the child.

Every year multitudes of minor languages are disappearing from the charts due to the cultural invasions and neglect. Cultural heritage is the founding stone on which edifices are built for the posterity. It is not uncommon that many don't see the necessity to preserve cultures in the present day "Melting Pot" environs. It is likely that a race without past has no future. If robust languages like Sanskrit and Latin could die, the same predicament is not impossible for Telugu if treated with continued neglect.

On this special day of November first when controversies are raging about the very wording and thematic vision of the poets who praised their "Mother Telugu" and term "Andhra" appeared no less than an abuse, what prompted me to write this pathetic redress is the fear of loosing one of the world's finest language segments.

Mother Telugu! Do you still hold your garland?