RECURRING DEPOSITS CAN CREATE WEALTH

Recurring Deposits can create wealth. How?

The Manager of a new generation private sector bank had contacted me with a request. He wanted me to join up in his drive to mobilize Recurring Deposit accounts. He was so persuasive that I had let down my guard for once and had agreed to comply. According to him I did not have to visit his bank to open the account. It could be opened in the comfort of my home provided I had an internet banking facility mapped to the Savings Bank account I had with his bank. If I had assigned any nomination to the SB account, the same nomination would be extended to the Recurring Deposit account I would open.

The account was opened without any hassle. A standing instruction was given to the bank to debit monthly installments from the SB account. The account was for one year. I could see that monthly installments were promptly debited from the SB account. The efficiency of the system surprised me. When the Recurring Deposit Account had reached maturity, the proceeds with interest due was credited to my SB account promptly. There was no need to visit the bank at any point.

I started thinking. If I were to open a Recurring Deposit account through internet banking on the 1^st of every month for the next 12 months, the maturity proceeds would be credited to my SB account on the 1^st of every month of the ensuing year. The cash inflow would improve my financial status tremendously. If I were to repeat the process of opening the Recurring Account every month as long as I would like to, it would ensure the flow of additional cash for my needs throughout my life.

The quantum of installment is for the depositor to decide. It could be multiples of Rs.100.00 or Rs.1000.00 according to capacity of the depositor. There is one hitch. In the initial year the installments would rise with the passage of each month. The combined installments at the 12^th month would be Rs.12000.00 if the monthly installment is set at Rs.1000.00. If this can be managed the cash inflow would begin from the 13^th month. And the depositor would have no difficulty in carrying on with process from the 13^th month onwards as he would have enough money – the combined savings being Rs.150096.00 for an year -   with him then on.  The illustration elaborates the economics.

DATE OF INSTALLMENT	REMITTANCE FOR THE MONTH	MATURITY DATE	MATURITY VALUE/ PAYMENT
1st January          2013	1000	1st January          2014	12508
1st February        2013	2000	1st February        2014	12508
1st March           2013	3000	1st March           2014	12508
1st  April               2013	4000	1st  April               2014	12508
1st May                2013	5000	1st May                2014	12508
1st June               2013	6000	1st June               2014	12508
1st July                2013	7000	1st July                2014	12508
1st August           2013	8000	1st August           2014	12508
1st September     2013	9000	1st September     2014	12508
1st October          2013	10000	1st October          2014	12508
1st November      2013	11000	1st November      2014	12508
1st December      2013	12000	1st December      2014	12508

interest @9% pa courtesy State Bank of India

If one finds it difficult to save every month he can make it a bimonthly affair. If one does not have Rs.1000.00 to spare every month he can reduce the quantum to multiples of Rs. 100.00. This is purely a voluntary form of savings from one’s own income. As the income rises the quantum of installments can also be raised. Though the time frame can be enlarged I would suggest that it may be confined to 12 months only. Money we make is for our needs. Enhanced time frame would decelerate liquidity that is absolutely essential. What could be spared from the maturity proceeds may be diverted to fixed deposits or other forms of investment.

There is a question. How can a salaried employee or a person with variable or fixed income manage to set apart the installments to the Recurring Deposit account from the limited income? There are two surmises. One is that a person can always set apart a portion of his income towards his savings. The second is that the income of an individual always goes up. It is never static.  He has to only set apart the periodic hikes such as increment , enhancement in DA or the hike in the fixed income towards the installments.

I would suggest that the process is carried out through Internet banking. It spares us from visits to the bank. We do not have to fill vouchers or keep passbooks. We can operate the process from the comfort of our home any time during day or night. We can always view the position of our accounts. We can move from strength to strength in terms of financial capability. It makes creation of wealth very simple.

There is no magic here. It is the will of the individual that prompts him to save a part of his income resulting in financial stability for the whole family. 

WORLD CLASS ROADS OF THIRUVANANTHAPURAM

Thiruvananthapuram was a sleepy town with congested roads when I had visited it in 1961. There were  no autorikshaws. A few taxis were plying on the roads. Horse drawn carriages  - Judkas – were the common man’s mode of transport apart from a few buses.

Before settling down in the city in 1977 I had been visiting it off and on. The city was growing  tortuously.  The Vellayambalam – Kowadiar stretch was the only section that had a decent width.   All the other segments were narrow. Traffic moved at a snail’s pace.

It has all changed for the better now. The Vellayambalam – Kowadiar section with blooming flowers and greenery resembles roads in well developed cities abroad like Beijing, Singapore and many others.

The icing on the cake is the Vellayambalam – Sasthamangalam section. As one travels through the road, it is as if a foreign location has been transplanted here.  We never had believed such things would happen in Thiruvananthapuram during our time.

The MG Road from  Ramarao Lamp to East Fort that had been congested beyond redemption has been widened to hold six lane traffic. Traffic moves without hindrance unless held up by demonstrations or VIP visits.

The PMG- Kesavadasapuram section has undergone a transformation no one had ever thought possible.

The development of the roads is bringing an upgrade in the construction activities. The buildings that are coming up are a class apart from the buildings of yester years.

The roads in Thiruvananthapuram are now world class and they are throwing a challenge to the city to transform to world class standards.  

I LOVED MALAYALAM YET I WAS FORCED TO RUN AWAY FROM THE LANGUAGE

I LOVED MALAYALAM YET I RAN AWAY FROM THE LANGUAGE

Malayalam is my mother tongue. It is a rich language. It is the language of Kerala.

Malayalam was the medium of instruction while I was in the School. I was able to imbibe everything taught in the School. It was a Government High School located in the heart of Munnar much before its tourism potential came into the focus of the whole world.

Unfortunately many of our teachers had never wanted to stay and work at Munnar. The moment they were posted to Munnar they were moving heaven and earth to obtain a transfer. They would go on leave for weeks together to stay away from Munnar. Naturally the School remained at the bottom every year when the results of the SSLC examination came out.  No one bothered. In the year 1965 when I had written the SSLC examination less than thirty students had come out successful from a total of four hundred and fifty students who had sat for it. Five students alone had managed to secure a First Class that was sixty percent or above out of a total of six hundred marks.   My score – 407/600- was the second in the School.  The topper was a Tamil medium student with marks at 413/600. He became the topper through the high percentage of marks he had scored for Tamil language. I could score only 51/100 for Malayalam and the score had relegated me to the second position despite good scores in all the other subjects.

Those days the examiners were misers when they were valuing the Malayalam answer papers. They refused to award marks to students however well they had performed in the examination.

SSLC was the first hurdle in the academic life of a student.  The next was Pre-degree. It meant I had to leave home and join a College far away. The enquiries on the trend followed by the teachers who were valuing the Malayalam answer papers in the examinations conducted by the University revealed that those who were opting for Malayalam as the Second Language were ruing their decision as the percentage of pass in Malayalam was very low in the University examinations. Further those who were managing a pass were coming out with very low marks. Meanwhile those who were taking up Hindi, French or Syriac were scoring very high marks ensuring a bright future for them.

What could I do? If I did not obtain good marks in the Pre-degree examination it would ruin the scope for higher education. I was forced to run away from Malayalam though I had loved the language very much. I took up Hindi.

TRAINS AT ANAYARA OVER BRIDGE UNDER CONSTRUCTION

There is an over bridge under construction over the railway line at Anayara near Pettah,, Trivandrum, Kerala, India. It is nearing completion. The people at Anayara have been suffering due to the forced dislocation in their movements. As the market is at Pettah they have no option but to cross the double line to make their purchases of daily necessities from the market. Anayara has a heavy concentration of the the middle class and lower middle class. The rich are few here. People cross the double line with fear in their minds all the time. I had to go to the market on Monday the 14th of October 2013 around 6.00 pm. After ensuring that there were no trains I had crossed over. Once the purchases were over I was returning. It was close to 7.00 PM. As I  had approached I saw a train proceeding up north blaring its horn. Once I reached the track I looked at both directions. There were no trains. There were three of us. One was an elderly lady. We crossed the first track from the Pettah side. We were crossing the second track. As we looked to our left we found to our consternation a train silently turning the curve and approaching fast down south. Though struck with fear we ran for our lives. Just as we had climbed over the mount of earth dumped on the path after the track we saw the train passing by. The question is why the train was coming silently without blaring the horn. As the line has been electrified trains run silently. People have no option but to cross the track to meet their needs as the traffic has been closed for almost two years. The work on the over bridge has been going on all these days. There has been several dead lines, the latest being October 2013. But to a lay man like me it is nowhere near completion. Meanwhile common people like me have to cross the track all the time ransoming their lives each time. The trains move merrily but silently. It is a pity people's lives are  left to the vagaries of trains from nowhere hitting  or killing them. Indian Railways have a lot to learn.

VIOLENT SPIN ON THE HIGHWAY

The black sedan was cruising sedately. No one noticed it. It was just one among the large number of vehicles  on   M C Road, the State Highway. Onlookers were aghast when it gathered momentum. The thunder was scary.  People rushed in from all corners. They were horrified to find two badly shaken men and an unconscious woman in the vehicle. The woman was bleeding profusely. It was apparent that there had been  a vicious head injury.

Alice was a wonderful woman. She was in the college when I had first met her. There was a bus stop in front of my office. She would drop in and chat as she waited for the arrival of her bus. She had never disturbed me while I had been busy. She was a lively girl and what had stood out was her uninhibited laughter. She drifted like a butterfly. She had spread good cheer all around.

Marriage with Thankachan took her to Abu Dhabi. She was content to be a home maker. It was a happy family. The husband and the wife raised their two children – a son and a daughter – inculcating family values in them. The children did not let go the opportunities that came their way. They underwent courses in engineering and business management in premier institutes. As they were well qualified placements came in search of them.

Life in Abu Dhabi came to a conclusion when Thankachan superannuated. They built a house at Thiruvananthapuram for their stay in India. It was a beautiful house. It was self contained. Exquisite landscaping made it glamorous. Life in India was pleasant just as it had been at Abu Dhabi.

Disaster struck the happy family in a most bizarre mode.  There was the funeral of a dear one at Kottayam on 1^st November 2012. Though Thankachan had planned to take the train to attend the funeral Alice wanted to travel by their car –  Maruti SX4 – so that they could visit a few of their relatives and offer prayers in the Church at Parumala. The engagement of their daughter had been set for 12^th November at Thiruvananthapuram. Alice insisted that they take their driver along so that Thankachan would not be taxed.

They had set out from their home at 6 AM on 1^st November 2012. The driver drove at moderate speed. When they reached Kalayapuram near Kottarakkara, the driver suddenly accelerated to overtake a stationary school bus that was taking in students.  It went awry.  The car dashed against  the rear of the bus on the right. The collision had sent the car to several spins on the road. It was a frightening sight. The bystanders could do nothing. They had  felt that no one would come out alive.  As the driver and Thankachan  in the front seats had worn the seat belts and as the vehicle had air bags in  front they came out of the mishap unhurt.  Wearing of seat belts by passengers in the front seats of all cars in Kerala is mandatory. However it is not mandatory for passengers in the rear. Poor Alice who was sitting in the rear had not worn the seat belt as the law did not require it. The violent spin threw her repeatedly against the metal and the glass on her left. She was badly injured. There was blood.  Her head and her face wore the brunt of the spin. 

She was brought comatose to KIMS Hospital in Thiruvananthapuram  at once in an ambulance.  Though the Doctors had tried their best to resuscitate her she had succumbed to the injuries.  Thankachan was dumbfounded. He had hoped and believed that nothing untoward would happen to Alice while he had held her firm on the ride in the ambulance. One moment life was full of happiness. Tragedy had struck him mercilessly. Alice was laid to rest in the orthodox church’s cemetery at Pattoor on 3^rd November 2012.

The unexpected demise of Alice was a jolt to all who knew her. They could not believe that Alice would never come with her trademark smile to their lives again.

Accidents occur without any notice. Freak accidents occur rarely. A moment is enough to turn happiness to deep sorrow, agony,anguish and tragedy. Perhaps the tragedy could have been averted.if Alice had worn the seat belt while she had been traveling.

Citizens  are the invaluable assets of an emerging economy. Our supplication is that the tragic death of Alice opens the eyes of  lawmakers in Kerala   to mandate wearing of seat belts compulsory for all passengers in all vehicles in the state so that precious lives will not  needlessly be snuffed in future.

P T USHA SLAMS NEGATIVE MINDSET OF ATHLETES IN INDIA

Life is a great teacher. There is a way out of each and every crisis. We have to seek and find our own answers.  However there are people who refuse to learn from failure.  They blame all but themselves for the mess they alone are responsible. We can make a difference when we go beyond our strengths and outside our comfort zones. Though I am focusing on sports and sports-persons what is deliberated here applies to all spheres of life. 

I am an avid reader of the newspapers ‘The Hindu’ and ‘The Times of India’. I am quoting from them with a bit of my own thoughts.

P T Usha in ‘The Times of India’, 6^th July 2013 deliberates on why India has not produced a world class athlete in track and field events after she had called it a day.

“Today’s athletes stop at the first sign of pain”

Athletics is not easy. It is very tough on the body when you put in 100 percent effort.  Nowadays the athletes stop when they have the first sign of pain, whereas I used to continue training because I was trained to take the load. I was also mentally determined to always win. If our athletes have to win at the top level, we have to build them with a strong mindset right from when they are young.

“When you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains however impossible, must be the truth.” Sherlock Holmes

The truth is that Indians in general are averse to stretch that extra length and they end up non achievers whatever their pursuits are. It does not preclude the strides Indians have made in the world. But we tend to remain within our comfort zones shutting our eyes to the strenuous demands a real winner would have to cope up with. The lethargy has made us the second best every where.

Notice the approach elsewhere.

The Hindu, 6^th July 2013

Wimbledon Men’s Semi Final July 5 2013

Between Novak Djokovic and Juan Martin Del Porto

At 4 hours 44 minutes the match – that had more twists and turns than a giant cork screw - was the longest Semi Final in Wimbledon history. It was probably, as more than one expert commentator gushed, one of the finest in recent history of the game.

Together, the statistics showed that the match did not go along predicted lines. More importantly, they showed that both players were forced to play beyond their strengths and outside their comfort zones.

It was this more than anything else that made this wonderful match truly special and extra ordinary.

Believer is the achiever.  If you believe you can accomplish the goal you will achieve it.

‘The Hindu” wrote when Djokovic had lost early in his career to Federer in an epic battle.

Djokovic will go home knowing that Federer will be thinking of him, and while disappointed, the Serb should remember that defeat is a great teacher, an idea articulated beautifully in an old Michael Jordan advertisement.

“I’ve missed more than 9000 shots in my career; I’ve lost almost 300 games; 26 times I’ve been trusted to take the game-winning shot, and missed. I’ve failed over and over and over again. That is why I succeed.”

Any one can be a good winner. The sign of a great man is how you handle defeat.

Michael Jordan incidentally had not been selected to play for his School’s Basketball team when he was young.

The message is clear. It captures beautifully how we can win wherever we are.

When you have serenity within you while under tremendous stress, when you have a reserve supply of confidence when everything seems lost you will have clarity – clarity in the mind - 
amid-st the inferno. You are able to make winning decisions. The quality makes you unique, makes you a winner and makes you a champion. 

Mind you, champions are a rare breed.

FRIENDS HAVE TO BE NURTURED FOR YEARS

Shoumojit Banerjee, correspondent of'  ' The Hindu '  reports from Mumbai. ( ' The Hindu ' of 25.06.2013)

Mr.Uddhav Thackeray, President, Shiv Sena wrote in Saamana , "Allies do not grow on trees. Friends have to be nurtured for years with trust and service. They are not like seasonal crops which can be grown with water and fertilizers and then be plucked for use."

Mr. Thackeray has stated a wonderful principle that is often ignored by most of us. No one can survive in the world without friends. Unfortunately people think that their riches will be enough to see them through their travails. The wise follows the principle exhorted  and lead successful lives.

C. A. Chacko  who had struggled  through the horrors of  Second World War while he was at Singapore had found solace from the following quotation. (Author unknown)

" Riches take wings
  Comfort vanish
  Hope withers away
  But love stays with us "

REMORSELESS KILLER ON THE PROWL

.

Shajan spoke to me today. He said that Jolly is fighting her best to live. She is in the Hospital. She cannot swallow food in the form of solids or liquids. She throws up.  Doctors have prescribed nasal feeding to stabilize her. 

Jolly suffers from cancer.

We had visited her the previous Wednesday. She was on morphine. We could see that she was enduring great pain. We had felt that she could not go on for long. We did feel that death was waiting in front of her to snatch her away.   The pity of it was that her doctors did not prepare the family for the inevitable that was very close. They were fed with false hopes.

It has been three years since the family took cancer head on. Jolly had to undergo mastectomy. Radiation and Chemotherapy followed. It was painful. It was expensive. Shajan was employed. Jolly was a homemaker. They have two children, a boy and a girl. The girl was eighteen  when cancer had gate  crashed into their peaceful world. The boy was only a child at that time. The family was never rich.

Though Jolly showed signs of recovery there was a relapse. The cancer started to make inroads into her body. Her condition at the moment is quite unstable. She cannot lie on her bed. She cannot sleep. She cannot sit. She cannot walk. She cannot stand as her legs are swollen.  She cannot speak.

Shajan asked me to pray for Jolly. He said his daughter who is twenty one  has already lived the life of a forty year old. The last three years were cruel to her. She had to balance her life with different chores. She had to attend  college. She had to write her exams. She had to do the cooking at home. She had to attend to her mother. She had to spend a good part of the three years in the hospital as Jolly had to be admitted  there many times.

Shajan tells me that his son had cried his heart out when he saw his mother at the hospital with the nasal tube. A child takes time to assimilate. 

Shajan was weeping when he was on the phone. He recalled what he had been through his whole life. I needed no reminder as I knew it all. He said it was only in the year 2001 he was able to find a good job. It had been horrible till then.  He says he had started to live a good life from that year only. The good fortune did not last even for a decade.

Shajan does not know what to do. Despite all that he has done with the limited resources he could marshal he knows Jolly’s condition is critical.

Cancer is deadly. It destroys the person. It destroys the family. Cancer, the remorseless killer on the prowl, is the worst enemy of mankind.

Prayer alone can bring solace to the lives of Shajan, Jolly and their children. They seek the prayers of the whole world for the survival and well being of Jolly.

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I wrote this yesterday, the 11th of June,2013.

I woke up this morning with dark forebodings. It is 12th June,2013.

Jolly passed away at 7.10 AM today. It is tragic for the family. The loss is irreplaceable. Shajan has lost his wife and the children their dear mother.

Jolly was a good soul. True to her name she had always been jovial. She had an indomitable spirit.

UNIDENTIFIED BAGGAGE AT HYDERABAD - SHAMSHABAD RAJIV GANDHI INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT

It was the day after the twin blasts at Dilsukhnagar, Hyderabad. We were scheduled to board a flight from RGIA, Shamshabad.at 2.55 PM on 22^nd February 2013.  As we drove into the enclosure for departure it was evident that security had been beefed up. Documents of passengers were closely scrutinized by two security personnel before they were let in.

The terminal was crowded. Security arrangements were flawless. Though unobtrusive the security personnel were doing a great job.   We went for check in one hour before the flight.  There were several counters marked ‘all flights’.  There was a long queue at the first counter. The second and third counters were unmanned. Boarding passes were being issued from all the counters. When we spotted an official taking his seat at the third counter, my wife went there with our documents while I had kept my place in the queue at the first counter. The trolley with our baggage was with me. The official directed her to stick to the first counter. Meanwhile another official took up his seat at the second counter. As my wife was returning to join the queue along with me, the official asked her to present the documents. She waited at the counter while the official verified the records.

I saw an official in uniform making his rounds. He spotted a bag behind my wife. He went around asking everyone if it belonged to them. No one knew anything about it. It was unclaimed. The processing of our documents was over by that time.  The official asked us to deposit our check in baggage at the conveyer belt. I moved the trolley up to the counter and had deposited the baggage there. The trolley was inches away from the unclaimed bag.

As we waited there for our boarding pass a security official came up to me and politely asked me to move far away from that area with the trolley. While complying with his order I told him that we had not been issued our boarding passes. Noting our plight he advised me to wait outside the cordon where the passengers were meant to queue up. My wife waited at the counter for the boarding pass since she was not ordered out of the area.

As I was moving out of the area I saw security personnel converging there in strength. The unclaimed bag was cordoned off within seconds. The passengers queuing there were evacuated. They asked my wife to proceed to the spot where I waited. The officials at the first three counters were ordered to close the counters and vacate at once. Nothing was left to chance.

Time was ticking away. We wondered how we would board the aircraft without the boarding pass. The official did not abandon us. He sought us out and handed over the boarding passes and wished us bon voyage.

We went through the security check and waited for the call to board the aircraft. There were three more verifications before we could settle down into our seats.

The flight took of right on dot. As we were flying realization dawned on us that we were closest to the unidentified bag and if anything had gone wrong we would not have lived to tell the tale. We really admired the security personnel for their professionalism. They were courteous. They never had tried to put a scare into people though they were battling against heavy odds. They were unassuming. They kept us safe.

They remain unknown. 

SALUTE KESAVENDRAKUMAR IAS

Kesavendrakumar was unknown when grew up in his native Bihar. Bihar happens to be the most underdeveloped state in India. It is rich in mineral wealth. A large number of major industries are located there. Yet, the people remained poor. Try as much as they could they found it extremely difficult to catch up with the rest of India. Parity in achievements in the field of education could never be conceived.

Kesavendrakumar grew up in a difficult environment. His father did not have much to provide for his son. But Kesavendrakumar was highly intelligent. He passed the Higher Secondary Examination, Bihar with a very high rank. Though he wanted to join for higher education the plight of the family made him join the Railways as a booking clerk (information garnered from newspaper reports).

The thirst for knowledge and the urge to do well in life saw him join IGNOU for BA Hindi. After successful completion of the degree he had appeared for the IAS examination. He was selected to join the IAS. The rank was forty five. It was the first time in India a degree student from IGNOU had been selected for IAS. He was twenty two. It tells us the universal truth. If you are tenacious, if you do not give up when the odds are stacked against you and if you believe you can win nothing can stop you.

Kesavendrakumar was posted to Kerala. In course of time he was appointed Director, Higher Secondary Education. He became famous when a few members of the student wing of the ruling party in Kerala had poured waste oil, black in color over him as a mark of protest for the hike in fees for Higher Secondary Education. The fact that the hike was a decision of the Government of which their party was a constituent did not deter the hooligans. The ruling party had dissociated themselves from the unethical violence. The Chief Minister had called up the official and had apologized for the misdeed.

The photo of Kesavendrakumar with the oil on him was widely circulated in the newspapers and news channels.There was no rancor. He looked courageous.

Salute Kesavendrakumar.

. 

KASHMIR – AN UNFORGETTABLE TOUR

We had always been looking for an opportunity to visit Kashmir. When a tour package came our way with two days in Srinagar we had gleefully joined it. We knew that confining the visit to Srinagar would not divulge what the entire Kashmir had in store for an admirer of nature.  But our constraints forced us to keep aside the venture beyond Srinagar   for another occasion.  

It was September 2009. We were required to report at the Domestic Terminal of the Trivandrum Airport at 5.30 AM. The flight had been scheduled to take off at 6.30 AM. We had set off from our residence at 5.00 AM. It was fifteen minutes’ drive to the Airport.  When heavy rains lashed the city the previous evening we felt nature had finally relented and had blessed Trivandrum with much needed succor. The rain had continued unabated the whole night. We reached Sanghumugham in fifteen minutes.  We could not proceed further as a traffic snag had developed blocking movement of vehicles. The discomfiture was compounded by the phenomenal stupidity of the malayali driver on the roads in Kerala that converts a two lane track to multiple tracks impeding all traffic to the nth degree. As we waited there patiently, we saw  minutes ticking by at a furious pace. We could have reached the Airport in fifteen minutes if we had chosen to walk. But we could not do it as the rains were merciless.  And we could not abandon the heavy baggage, an essential ingredient of all tours.

It was five minutes to 6.00 AM when our son finally managed to drop us at the departure gate. The staff of Air India was courteous. Check in had been extended by half an hour considering the plight of the passengers braving the inclement weather to catch the flight to New Delhi. The hold up delayed the departure by half an hour. 

The aircraft flew on top of the clouds. The flight was pleasant. The view was magnificent. We had always been eagerly waiting for the breathtaking view whenever aboard as the bird soared higher and higher.

Though we reached New Delhi in time the aircraft did not receive permission to land. We could see from the screen in front that we were going up to Jaipur and then back to Agra. The aircraft had to spend almost an hour in the air till it was permitted to touch down.  The Commander was apologetic for the delay. He said there were a lot of VIP activities at the Airport that had forced us to remain airborne. It was the day the Helicopter carrying YSR, the Chief Minister of Andhra Pradesh went missing. We found the TV flashing the news in the evening after we reached Srinagar.   The air hostess while signing off advised passengers proceeding to Srinagar to contact the commercial staff at the Tarmac. The staff told us that the same aircraft would be flying us to Srinagar. As the flight to Srinagar had already been delayed it would be futile to proceed to the terminal and return.

The aerial view of Srinagar was fantastic. Mountain ranges stood high and majestic around the valley. There was a strong presence of the Indian Air Force at the Airport. It was all green from the sky. The terminal was full of Army and Air Force personnel waiting for their flights. We were allowed to exit after an examination for bird flu.

We proceeded in a Taxi to our Hotel. Later when we went out to visit places of importance in Srinagar we could see that the Army was every where in full battle gear. We were frisked at some places.  At one point after the frisking was over we were asked to proceed on foot for some distance. The vehicle was allowed to move slowly and picked us up after we had covered the mandated distance. There was a long stretch of a road. It was heavily fortified. A few Ambulances were also there. The driver told us that several VIPs had their residences on either side of the road. He advised us it would be unsafe if were venturing out after 10.00 PM. We replied we could not do it as we could not withstand the cold weather. The driver further told us that the roads in Kashmir were superbly maintained in comparison with roads across the line of control.

Our visit to the shops was a revealing experience. The shopkeepers were cordial and courteous. The fact that we were from the southern tip of the subcontinent had amused them. They offered us Safron Tea.  It tasted excellent.

Shalimar Gardens was a display of colours. We had never seen such flowers and trees elsewhere. Buildings from Mughal era adorned it.

Chinar trees lined up on the road skirting the Dal Lake. The House Boats in the lake were a treat. Though we had planned a Shikara ride the next day, incessant rains during the night and the morning prevented us.

It was time for us to leave Srinagar. The vehicle was stopped at a check point on our return to the airport. We were asked to show our tickets and the baggage was sent for scanning. Though we thought we had reached the Airport we were told there was some more distance to the destination. The baggage had to be reloaded in our vehicle.  As we moved on we had to negotiate a zig zag path to reach the airport. There was scanning once again before the check in.

The flight was on time. As we were bidding good bye to the magnificence the mountains and the valley had offered the aircraft encountered turbulence. It was scary.  We were asked to put on  seat belts. The aircraft began to shake. The captain ordered, ”Crew to stations.” An Air Hostess who was serving lunch found it difficult to control the trolley. Cups and bottles were flying off.. She jumped into a seat next to ours and fastened the seat belts. She held on to the trolley as she sat there. Finding that we were scared she assured that the turbulence would be over soon. There was pin drop silence in the cabin.

The captain managed to steer the aircraft safe. The seat belt sign went off. The Air Hostess went on with her chores. It was a big relief when the announcement came that we were about to land at the New Delhi International Airport.

Our next stop was Colombo. As our onward flight had been scheduled for the next day, we were provided accommodation at ‘Tamarind’, half an hour from the airport. Sri Lanka was fighting the LTTE at that time. We saw young soldiers with advanced weapons everywhere. The next morning as we were returning to the airport to catch our flight, Gun wielding soldiers stopped our vehicle and would not allow us to proceed. They demanded production of Passports and travel documents. They took a long time over it. Finally they allowed us to proceed through a different route. The journey took more than an hour. We heaved a sigh of relief when we managed to catch the flight.

MEDICAL COLLEGE HOSPITAL RELISHES DISHING OUT SUFFERING AND DEATH

5^TH of April 2008 was the worst day in our lives. Pappa, our father, passed away on that day at 4.00 PM in the ICU of Pushpagiri Medical College Hospital in Kerala.  Death was due to complications arising from a surgery he had undergone at the hospital. The surgery was necessitated because he was suffering from a   broken hip due to a fall in the evening of 31^st March 2008 at Kottayam.

Though Kottayam had enough facilities, we took him over to the Pushpagiri Medical College Hospital, a good distance off, as he had already been a patient of the Cardiology Department there. We had enquired with a student, a relative, at that Medical College. We were told that they had a very good and efficient Orthopaedic Surgeon.

Pappa was admitted to the Hospital on 1^st April 2008. The Surgeon advised Surgery at once. He was operated on 3^rd April 2008. Soon after the surgery he was transferred to the ICU.    The Sisters in charge at the ICU advised us to go to the room at the ward and wait there as the hospital did not like the bystanders crowding in front of the ICU. They said they would contact us in the event of any emergency.  Though almost all the hospitals permit one or two persons to visit the patient in the ICU for five minutes each at a fixed time during the day, we found to our consternation that this hospital had barred the entry of bystanders to the ICU. The relatives and the dear ones of the patient had to be satisfied with a peep into the ICU through a little window they would open for a few minutes   at 4.00 PM every day. As there were many patients in the ICU we had to jostle for space for seeing Pappa before they closed the window.

Finding the urine output scanty, a Lady Doctor had visited Pappa at night on 2^nd April 2008. She advised us to wait outside the room as she was going to insert a Catheter.  We felt she was quite inexperienced as she had taken a very long time to do it. The procedure had resulted in considerable loss of blood.

The lady doctor visited us at our room at 8.00 AM on 4^th April 2008. She said Pappa was alright and that they would be transferring him to the room. It was a big relief. We started tidying up the room in anticipation of the arrival of Pappa.

There was a knock on the door at 11.00 AM. It was the Surgeon. He was accompanied by the lady doctor and a host of medical staff. He started shouting at us.  He said we were totally irresponsible. “You have dumped your father at the ICU. You are not taking care of him. I have done my job well. But there are a number of machines and monitors at the ICU. I am no expert to read or decipher them. You must go and fetch the head of the department of Cardiology to examine your father. His condition is very bad.” The great surgeon knew that Pappa had been a patient of the eminent cardiologist for almost six years. He went off. We were in a trauma. We loved Pappa very much. We could not even think of anything untoward happening to him. 

As the Surgeon did not give us an opportunity to discuss the reason for his unkindly outburst we went to his OP. He reiterated what he had told us earlier. He said it was incumbent upon the bystanders of the patient to arrange the visit of the specialists when the patient was ailing.

We located the Cardiology department. The doctors there told us that the head of the department was away and would be back after three days only. We narrated the incident we went through half an hour earlier. They said it was incumbent upon the Surgeon to refer patients to them whenever a crisis developed. They required a note from the Surgeon for their intervention. However they relented due to our persuasion and had agreed to send a doctor from their department to the ICU on the second floor.

5^th April 2008 began with bad news one after the other. Initially one doctor at the ICU told us that Pappa was alright. The second doctor said he was in a critical condition. They had requisitioned the nephrologists as the kidneys were failing.   The nephrologists told us that the patient was critical. We were asked to sign some papers absolving them of any responsibility for the procedures they were going to adopt at 2.00 PM. We were handed over a bill for Rs.3000.00 at 3.30 PM. It had to be remitted at the office at once. While my brother had gone to the office to remit the amount one doctor called me in. It was the ante-room. He said, “The condition of your father is serious. He is very serious. He is very very serious”

I rang up my son and apprised him of what the doctor had said. My son replied, “My friend at the ICU has advised me that Appicha- grand father- has passed away.” Soon after I had put the phone down, the doctor called me in again. He said, “I am sorry. Your father has passed away.” We were in tears.

I asked him whether we could go in and see our father. He was willing to permit us go in and have a look. We found to our horror the entire staff at the ICU ganging up and shouting that they would never permit us anywhere near our father who had passed away that moment. It was the unkindest cut. We could see Pappa lying on his right on the bed at the farthest corner of the ICU. Yet we could not be with him.

We took Pappa home that evening. There were a large number of mourners. As the next day, 6^th April 2008 dawned people from all walks of life from far and near stepped in to pay their last respects. No wonder, he was well liked by all the people he had come into contact with. The state highway in front of our house was clogged with vehicles.

Pappa was laid to rest at the Irampally Cemetry of the St.Thomas CSI Church, Kunthirical, Thalavady after ceremonies at home, the Church and the Cemetry.

A few weeks after his sad demise a friend who knew Pappa rang up to offer condolences. He could not attend the funeral. I told him I was sad I had taken him to the Pushpagiri Medical College Hospital for treatment. I was sad I could not offer him the best medical care. I felt he might not have passed away like he did if it had been a different hospital. The friend who belonged to the area concurred and added that the hospital had a very dubious record. He did not elaborate further.

Pappa was a good father. He was the embodiment of love. He was affectionate.  He was generous in  giving. He never wanted anything for himself. Even when he lay ill for the last time at the hospital, he never cared for himself. He was concerned that we were going without food.  He was an ardent believer. His faith knew no bounds. I heard him recite Psalms 23 and 121 as the day began and before he went to sleep at night. He said he had been doing it for a very long time. He affirmed he was not afraid to die.

We love you Pappa. We miss you Pappa. 

STEEP CLIMB UP THE HILL

Malayalam is the language of Kerala. There are variations in the manner in which it is spoken throughout the state. The Trivandrum slang popularized by Suraj Venjaramood in Malayalm films has taken it across the state. Recently I was listening to my son who had been brought up all along in Trivandrum conversing with his wife from  Central Kerala. They were discussing about the word 'THEIRI' in Malayalam. 'THEIRI' is the Trivandrum equivalent of 'INCLINE' OR A SHARP CLIMB  UP THE HILL My son said that 'THEIRI' is well known throughout Kerala and people in the whole of Kerala mention it whenever they have to speak of an incline or a sharp climb up  on a hill. Surprising was the response of the girl. She replied that  THEIRI  was alright, but it had been used by people from Trivandrum alone across the state to indicate 'INCLINE' OR A SHARP CLIMB  UP THE HILL 

KERALA'S KADAKAMPALLY VILLAGE OFFICER ASKS, "IS MUNNAR IN KERALA?"

Munnar is the most sought after Hill Station in Kerala, India. I am happy  I grew up there.

The question I have highlighted on  the title was posed by a Village Officer, Kadakampally.  I replied it was in the District of Idukki, Kerala. For a moment the Village Officer sat there stunned.

The story began with the Kerala Entrance Examination for admission to Medical Colleges and Engineering Colleges in the State. It was the dream of every parent in Kerala at that point of time that his son or daughter became a Doctor or an Engineer . It still is.  Today, we have a large number of such colleges in the state. I am writing of a period in history dating back to more than two decades when they were scarce.

The process began with the notification in the news papers that the application forms would be sold to the aspirants at an office of the Government in the city. The sale would be on for a few days only. As the demand was high the crowd had to be controlled by the Police. The sale began at 10.30 AM. It was closed at 4.50 PM for the day.  People had no complaints as they knew very well the practice those days.

I reached the place very early the next day. The serpentine queue crawled. I could   buy the application form before the officials closed the counter for lunch break. It meant I had to be on leave from my office for two days.

There were a number of pages. Filling up the form was  laborious. The icing was that I had to proceed to the Village Office and obtain the signature and stamp of the exalted official in the form confirming that the applicant was a native of Kerala – in other words the nativity certificate.

The Village Officer was very busy. I had to wait for one and a half hours to meet him. He took the form. He asked me to produce the SSLC book. I placed the book before him. He said it was the certificate of the applicant. It was not enough.  He called for  my SSLC book. When I asked him why it was required he replied he would confirm nativity only after he had verified the nativity of the father.

I wondered whether there was any other consideration for the strange demand. I told him, I was on leave that day and I had all the time in the world to go home and bring it over.  At home, I asked my wife to fish out all the SSLC books there as I did not wish to be turned back again. There were four. Armed with the Books, I returned. The Official was busy.  I could meet him after one hour.  One thing I admire about Government Offices in general in Kerala is that they teach you the art of patience.

The Official went through the application once again word by word. He came to the nativity certificate part. He verified my son’s SSLC Book  again. He asked for my SSLC Book. It was verified and put aside. He asked for my wife’s SSLC book. It was verified. He said both the father and mother had to be natives of Kerala.

He returned to my SSLC Book again. I had studied at the Government High School, Munnar. He pondered for some time. He asked me, “Is Munnar in Kerala?”  I replied, “It is very much. It is in Idukki.” The Official reluctantly returned the form with his stamp and signature.

I managed to submit the application in time. A photocopy was kept for our record.

It was after a few days JIPMER, Pondicherry invited applications to their MBBS course. The application form was duly procured. There was a hitch. The nativity certificate was to be issued by the Tahsildar.

I went to the Office. The completed application form and the photocopy of the nativity certificate issued by the Village Officer were produced before the Tahsildar. He was courteous. He said the photocopy was not enough. He would issue the nativity certificate only after the Village Officer, had affixed his signature and stamp on the application itself. I said there was no column there for the Village Officer. He advised me to get the signature and stamp of the official on the constricted space below the box for the Tahsildar’s signature.

I approached the Village Officer. He said he would not certify on the application form as there was no column for him there. He advised me to approach the Tahsildar. I explained that the Tahsildar had directed me to approach him and obtain the signature underneath the box.

I showed him the copy of the certificate he had issued three weeks ago. He said, “SSLC Books.” I placed all the five books on the table. He did not even bother to open them. He took the application form and signed on the spot I had indicated.

The Tahsildar did not keep me waiting. He certified at the box.

A question remains. Did my son clear the entrance examinations? He did not. He could have managed an admission for Engineering in Kerala. But the Kerala University did not favour him with moderation – additional marks – they had granted to regular students. He had taken Mathematics as an additional subject.  It was a case of clear discrimination and denial of natural justice. The dream went sour.