Karna

|This happened to be a piece I'd penned last year right after I read this book called 'Mrityunjaya-The Death Conqueror'. The life of Karna is one of the most fascinating and tragic stories I've ever come across. He happens to be my most favorite character in The Mahabharata alongside Draupadi and Krsna. I keep attempting to sketch him again and again and never have I been satisfied with what I complete as it never seems to represent him in entirety. The artwork can be found on my blog, here. Cheers! Revel in His life, for it's complicated and beautiful. |



What is more trying by destiny, oh warrior

 than to be painfully oblivious to the origin of your birth?

You who slayed vice with smoldering golden rays

later blanketed in the smog of your munificence

sparked from vanity leased out in thy head;

exorcising material despair,

subduing with grains of praise the

licking ravage flames in your chest,

under the gilded skin armour, shut.

What could have been more ruthless

than the rejection of the dark-skinned maiden-

flinging insults like dung to a damp wall

while your strength lay untested and unapproved?

The woman you loved and hated within eons;

that your brothers  five later betrothed ,undivided

only to garrote you to shameful death.

What decremented your virtuous soul further?

the culminated fury abreast constant light

of doubt-ridden guilt about your legacy

Or losing your honour to jealousy

Beginning a vow out of an unnecessary jabbering

of the tongue unsaddled by righteous thought?

And when you saw your confounded flaws

mirrored on the deceitful glass of an angered moment,

You saw the image that your blue-skinned kin saw,

an enemy you endured with till your

chariot broke

while fighting with the universal wheel of time-

the only aid to defend the dead in you.

There were those grains of sand that fell through

the goodness, your blood dripping onto the muddy moulds

fusing towards an unjustified departure

defended in the karmic book of a godly conman.

The hourglass now contains merely light

in honour of a hero, tragic 

thus denied a deemed title

because his own blood feared the words

out of an unworthy stranger, spitting in the air.

~Hemu 

Source: Vimanika Comics 

The Curious Case of Crematoriums and Women

It's a world riddled by mindless following of empty practices that has lost its meaning and setting in today's world. Starting from everyday notions like a woman being 'impure' during her period to being but an ally during all religious rites in most cases, the status of a woman is always judged by her biological clock ticking or assumptions on her psychological strength.

 The most favorite of all these has been the ban that has been imposed unsaid in the houses of most families, that women aren't allowed to go to the crematorium or perform the last rites of the dead. I have never really understood the concept but from the perspective of mental strength. A woman might probably lack the mental strength to hold back tears (which are apparently considered 'impure') thus causing a scene as the pyre is lit. But aren't there women who are far more stronger than some men are in such cases?

I come from a semi-orthodox Brahmin family as a whole. My parents however, have been broad-minded enough to let me make my own decisions in almost every matter. While the extended relatives scorn at my doings, my parents silently watch me through it irrespective of whether they approve my stance or not. In my opinion, I believe in attending the last rites of the deceased till the end. It's my way of paying the last respects, the final goodbye. Death is a concept I am trying hard to understand and accept as a part of life and something I'll continue to do so.

 My father is an interesting man.He has always made me deal with my situations on my own, instilled a sense of independence in my sister and myself. When I told him that I would definitely attend the last rites of a close relative who passed away recently, he didn't immediately agree to take me there. In the end, he did. But with a disclaimer: 'I'll take you there, no qualms about that. But anything that happens there, you'll have to face on your own.'

Several uncles I knew stopped me at the gates to the cremation grounds. There were blissfully unaware that I had attended these funerals in the past and that I knew what to expect. 

'No. Don't come beyond this point.'

'You won't be able to take it. Don't you come inside.'

Of course, some sensible men there supported me and said it's no big deal and that if I would be strong enough to take it, I may come inside. I did attend the whole rite, but with what level of ease? I had be less obvious of my mere presence among the other men so as to avoid any last minute scene. 

The only thought that constantly races through my head in all these scenarios is a big, block 'WHY'. Why should it be so difficult to pay the last respects to someone dear to me fearing social stigma? Why dodge through a scene that is likely to be caused by some hotheads at a point that is important in the final journey of the deceased? 

 A relative of mine once told me that the concept of death as understood by a man and woman are two different things altogether. The man sees the ashes and bones of the deceased post cremation and before scattering them in the sea, understands death in its complete sense; that there is no return to the physical being of the one gone.But the women on the other hand are merely exposed to the body last seen, still thinking that there lies the wishful life and the memories but not the hard hitting truth. It makes sense to leave behind people who are bound to be emotional and don't wish to witness what happens 'beyond'. But what about those who wish to come along and say goodbye? What of their wishes to pay their last respects to fulfillment?

The general notion is that the menfolk want to protect the womenfolk from it all. I ask you this : how long will you 'PROTECT' us from all this?

Maybe we don't want to be protected. It's best to call things by what they are. Masking and hiding anything definitely doesn't alleviate issues.Why not try to understand death as a household concept? How long are we going to keep the women in dark about what happens after the body leaves a home in a hearse? What if one day, they can be included in the process and we as a community grow spiritually, understand death in its form and sense? Customs that we tend to 'upkeep' now are irrelevant to current times.As far as my knowledge goes, Hinduism doesn't forbid women from entering crematorium grounds. If there are such 'rules' written down anywhere, I'd love to hear from you and its prevalence to current situations. 

This is a picture I took at Varanasi last year. For a city that is famed for cremations and liberation, no man stood with a stick by the cremation ghat asking me to move on and not witness what happens there everyday. Isn't that Hinduism in its original sense? 

Cheers!

Hemu

Bereave

Night is when it hits you, in the silence of the skies

and the waning of the moon 

in the peaceful assumption of the living 

that some have already passed the test. 

I'd rather you'd failed for the name not called out 

in months together

is now rolling under my tongue and searing in pain.

Oh, I wish you had failed. 

Source : GOOGLE images

~Hemu

Wrath of Death : Road Accidents

India is a great nation where I'm guessing human lives aren't as important as the 'cultures' or the 'everyday protests' against simple issues of women's clothing or a celebrity couple kissing or hugging onscreen. A life just isn't valued. A general sarcastic line of thought is that, given the population of this country, a loss in that count doesn't really matter. We read about it in the papers everyday, happening to someone, somewhere in the city/country. But the intensity strikes only when it happens to someone we know personally.

 I have seen two deaths in the gap of only over four or five months. One, a personal friend with whom I studied with up until my tenth grade. Till date, the image I have of him in my head is that of a smiling one. His was a hit and run case. The lorry driver who hit him riding the pillion did not even bother to stop and see what he had done. The second was that of my close relative who passed away only yesterday after he skid and fell off one of the huge mounds of earth that was dug out for some reason, in the city of Chennai. It saddens me deeply to see a spate of such happenings one after the other. To lose both these people meant a lot to me and many others like me. Both of them were college students and students came in huge masses to pay their last respects to both of them at the cremation grounds. 

   There are many reasons for such happenings in the city. When I was at the police station yesterday, I heard a policeman mention that there have been over hundred odd casualties that year. There is such an incident happening almost everyday. Everyday, some parent is lamenting over a lost child who they lovingly had brought up for over 20-25 years. To merely think about it overcomes me with grief. 

   I don't have statistics to support what I thus write, but a large number of the students from my knowledge don't wear helmets. Racer bikes with riders who don't know the difference between rash riding and speed, eventually end up getting hurt. Moreover, Indian roads are not suitable for such kind of rides. There is always some part of the road that is dug out for the one of the million reasons the Corporation has enlisted. But the speedy progress and the attention given to attend to whatever the problem may be before digging out the roads and while doing so isn't there after it is done. Mounds of earth lie on the centre of the roads, on to the sides and hard,rock jalli is used to close some of the dug-out areas. This becomes highly difficult for any commuter on a two wheeler or vehicle, as even crossing the road becomes a worry. With the Chennai Metro Rail in progress, there are several one ways and the already shortened roads spell trouble with uncovered pits, uneven and extremely rough-terrain-ed roads. I wish the Corporation connects more with the people and finds out the root cause of all these problems so that they may be repaired. 

  This works on several levels. There are several cases of hit and run. Why can't there be a speedy nabbing of the accused personnel? I wonder, how do these people sleep at nights given the horror and grief they push on the family of the deceased. I don't know where to start and I don't know where to end. I just felt I had to write this at the least. 

Whatever may it be, I request all of you who are reading this to wear your helmets and ride safe. Indian roads are not for racing.

Cheers and love, 

Hemu 

(For Deepak and Pappu)