End of an Era - Grace passes away beautifully

Grace Wardell, an iconic legend of Kodaikanal passed away on 11-Jun-2010 at 12:50 PM in the arms of her son Mark Antrobus. It was a beautiful and a dignified passage with a serene smile on her face. She was given a grand farewell and the last rites and rituals were performed and was buried in her farm the next morning with a panoramic view of the farm. Grace was born on 23-Mar-1908 at London.

Here are some articles on Grace

Woodford's Oldest Old Girl!

Full of Grace - The Hindu

Amazing Grace - Outlook India

Cover Story by Olivia Hanson

Govind's Pizza Toast for Grace

Grace Turns 100

Grace Turns 102

Grace turns 100

I and me which was once one, on the long run is no longer one, as I have been able to be a witness and watch from outside the shell. Not that, I have become an anchorite or a victim of MPD (multiple personality disorder). But, I have been indulging too much in aloneness and solitude. When I and me are too involved in a conversation and someone joins the conversation, it continues only when the person who joined substitutes the Me of me. How could it be endured, if it is otherwise? It will only be a cork which prevents the conversation sinking into the depth. Sometimes there are too many depths in these conversations. However, to be a little sociable or atleast agreeable to the society, there is much longing for a friend to make him/her as a substitute. This longing for a friend sometimes turns into a betrayal.

Mark Antrobus, has been a perfect substitute when it comes to company. I think, he is more than a substitute. My I and Me disappears in his company as it becomes a party of his conversation. In his presence, a day disappears into a millisecond and time exists not. Last month, Elango, a friend of Mark called me to tell that Mark is in Chennai for a day and gave the phone number of the hotel where he was staying. The next moment, I was knocking his door. There was no response. Then I dialled the hotel number and the call was transferred to the room. After a few rings, he picked up and immediately opened the door. A beaming smile and a hug of radiance and warmth was enough to take me in. He said, “Shiva, you have just proved the existence of ether. Moments before you called, may be as you were calling, I was just meditating and was feeling that you had entered my room and watching me meditating. And there comes a call and you are here!” The conversation continued on and on and on……

It was time for lunch. When I suggested that we should go out for lunch, he said that he has stopped eating rice, wheat or any form of carbohydrate and offered some oranges he had for lunch. I insisted that we go out for lunch where we can have his kind of food. We went to aiwo, a chain of restaurant that boasts itself as offering the food for life. As regular visitor, I always get some extra care from Napoleon, the waiter who always stares at me if I ask for chilled water, a forbidden as it reduced the metabolism rate. We thoroughly enjoyed the conveyer meal which consisted mainly of pulses, vegetables, soya and all that is health. Perfectly in sync with food combining that Mark propounds. Thanks to my friend Shankar for introducing me to aiwo.

Then we went around the city looking for some coconut buttons and it was funny to see the shop keepers attempting to speak in broken English while Mark speaking to them in fluent tamil. The day just went by and it was time to part.

Mark invited me for Grace’s (his mom) Centenary Birthday celebrations scheduled on the 23rd March 2008 at The Kodai Club. Though I said, I will make it, relocation again is the excuse for not having been in Kodaikanal to pay my respects and be blessed by Grace. I’m sure she will have many more healthy years ahead and continue doing the great things she has always been doing.

Happy Centenary Birthday Wishes Mom!

I know Mark was intending to write something about himself, may be an autobiography for a long time. Now that, the occasion has come. He has just started writing and hosted the website. If you want to know, what is like being the Dionysus Junior, a wandering ascetic hedonist, an autodidact and a polymath, read Mark Antrobus at http://www.dionysusjunior.com/

Sister Attracta

It was a pleasant surprise in the morning to see a mail from my friend Mark Antrobus @ Govinda in Kodaikanal wishing me Merry Christmas with a message, “Here's a picture of Santa in case you thought he does not exist.”

Santa seen in the picture is Mark Celebrating Christmas with his friends in Kodaikanal.

What a way to celebrate!

Thanks Mark!

Then, I happen to read a post by Mystic Rose on the eve of Christmas and was engrossed in the gist of her post. While, I thought of extending her post, I remembered the saintly Sister Attracta of St. Theresa convent, Kodaikanal. Sister Attracta was in in-charge of the dispensary in the convent where my dad did his primary schooling and where I studied for a brief period of 6 months. She had a motherly love for my dad and it flowed through the generation too. After I went to the plains for studies, I made it a point to visit her at least once a year. By then, she was very old, but still was actively dispensing all here duties as the “Hospital Sister”. That’s how we used to call her. The moment I see her, her face will light up with a big smile saying “My dear son, you have come!” followed by a big hug and a kiss on the forehead. Whenever I take leave, she would load me with a pack of First-Aid kits for my use in the hostel. One day after reaching the hospital, I realized it was the prayer hour and was about to leave. Suddenly, I heard her and it was followed by the usual smile, hug and the kiss. I told her, “Sister, it should be your prayer hour. I will wait her as long as you are back from your prayer”. She said, “Who said I attend the prayers? I never go there. God has destined me to serve in the hospital and this is my prayer and in severing the patients that I serve Him. What if a patient waits when I am in the prayers? Will it fulfill my duties? Will God forgive me for being non-attentive? My son, the greatest prayer I offer to God is to imitate him and follow his steps.” I understood some of what she said, but forget all about it for a while. Though she is no more, I still feel the warmth of her embrace and the kiss.

During my stay in Belur Math in 2002, I found that “The Imitation of Christ” by Thomas A Kempis is one of the books that inspired Swami Vivekananda. I was able to relate the title of the book to the words of Sister Attracta and was desperately searching for the book. Finally, in 2004 that I got hold of the book, at least a century old hardbound one, from Fatima College Library, Madurai and lent it for a while through a friend.

It has become one of the favorite books too and still read a chapter or two when in a state of indecisiveness. The book starts like, “HE WHO follows Me, walks not in darkness,". The essence is to Imitate Jesus Christ and not to just follow some religious practices, dogmas and doctrines. Solitude and meditation, he says, helps you acquire the spirit and quotes that "As often as I have been among men, I have returned less a man."

The book is freely available on-line - The Imitation of Christ

We have lost the essence of every celebration and Christmas is not spared too. Celebrations have become synonymous with fire crackers, wine bottles, chocolates, discotheques, rejoicing in groups and of course the mass prayers.

It is the time to Imitate Christ, Follow his footsteps and beget Him in us!

Merry Christmas to you all!

Connecting People

Connecting People.... Hey, I'm not promoting Nokia here. It's all about the status of the connections that exists among individuals through a sequence of communication leading to an established relationship, real in case of direct contacts and virutal in case of Blog or IM. Sometimes, the frequency of communication dwindles due to the apparent limitations like being occupied within the pond of our own life, relocating to a different place,disapperance of the common ground on which the relationship was established... may be there are countless reasons. Whatsoever happens, we still cherish the moments in any relationship and sometimes it is also revived as a pleasant surprise.

It just happened that, I published a post titled Mark Antrobus on 11 June 2006 in memory of one of my dear friend Mark, who became my buddy way back in 2000. We were in touch for 2 years and after I left my native place, the only time I remembered him was when I wrote this post. I realized that, all the gratitude and love for him was latent in my subconcious, till it found a way of expression and lack of remembrance doesn't mean lack of gratitude and love. A couple of months after I published this post, there was a comment from Elango, a friend of Mark saying that, Mark has been looking to contact me. Though I was happy, there was no means to contact him, as it was an anonymous comment with a name.

Finaly, in early March 2007, I got an email from Mark, expressing his gratitude for the post with the all his contact information. After a gap of 5 years, we found each other! Last month, I got a comment from Fay, who used to be a friend of Mark and his mom, when Mark and Fay were 17/18 years of age. I passed on each other's contact information and I hope they are in touch now. A few days before, there was an email from one Haggis, who knew Mark and his mom, probably in early 1960s. It is amazing that, even after a disconnect of nearly 50 years, friendship gets revived as a new blossom.

All that I could infer from these mails is that, Mark has been very inspirational and no wonder, he is still the same. I'm really happy that, I rediscovered a friend and Kodaihills is connecting people:)

Here is the post - http://kodaihills.blogspot.com/2006/06/mark-antrobus.html

Mark Antrobus

First meeting

Though it was a hills station, the summer of Kodaikanal in the recent past has been as hot as Madurai. I was standing under the shade of the a lone wattle tree watching the giant road-roller giving its final touch on the newly laid road surface on the Kodai – Ghat road KM 48/6. A green ambassador, must be a 1960 model, slowed down the near the parapet across the road and a lean foreigner unmounted the driver’s seat and I was surprise to see him walking towards me. He must be at least 40 years of age, but the thing that caught my eyes most was the three stripes of vibhuti (lines of ashes) and vermilion mark on his forehead. With his blond hair shining in the simmering sun, his mustache and beard flowing through his face, his eyes settled in a state of serenity, he looked much like a sage. He introduced him self as Mark Antrobus, an active member of CPCK (Consumer Protection Council of Kodaikanal) and the PHCC (Palani Hills Conservation Council). He appreciated me for having delivered a quality work in laying this road and a couple of other stretches on the Lake Round Road I had executed recently. I was elated, as no one, even the local people have never cared to really motivate me for providing quality roads in spite of the corrupt system.

At the KMU

The next time I met him was at the Kodai Missionary Union (KMU) Library that I visited on Saturdays to browse through the huge collection of books and to pick a book that would be my companion during my travel in the following week. The library was meant for people with missionary connections and I am grateful to Mr. Watson, a former librarian of the Kodai International School who introduced me to the library. Coming back to Mark, we made our coffee and Mark was asking me suggestions on the initiatives to be taken through the CPCK and PHCC to ensure quality roads in Kodaikanal. I was least interested, as these are the few hours I snatch to get rid of the road rollers, heat masters, mini-mix plants and the other road stuffs. However, I gave him a few suggestions, just to be courteous and ended the conversation. He invited me to his house as wanted to introduce me to his mom.

At his Cottage

His house was situated on a hill 2 furlongs from the load road leading to Prakasapuram and the grass path leading from the road to his house had a fencing of Hydrangea (known among locals as Idly poo, for it is shaped like the south indian dish Idly) on the valley side and a retaining wall adorned with the trailing creepers and climbers on the hill-side. It was a beautiful cottage and the calling bell was answered by Mark himself. He offered a warm welcome in the Tamil way (Vanakkam) and ushered me into the living room where he introduced me to his mom Mrs.Grace, who is turning 92 the following week. He excused himself to complete his morning prayers leaving me with his mom. I could hear him reciting Maniye Maniyin oliye, Olirum ani punaindha …… verses from Abirami Anthadhi. His Tamil pronunciation was as perfect as MNSK, our Tamil pundit in Sainik. Mrs. Grace playing with the cat on her lap, was very happy to have found a companion to talk and started sharing her experiences as a war correspondent with Reuters during the WW II. While she was me telling that she had named her cat as Pompon, a submarine she had seen in the WW II, Mark arrived with a towel around his bare body. He took me around the house and finally we landed in the Kitchen. He asked, if I would like to have a tea and I nodded yes with a big smile thinking that he would be procuring fresh tea leaves from Darjeeling or Munnar through his missionary contacts.

Herbal Tea

He lighted the stove and placed a vessel with 2 glasses of water in it. He opened the windows and plucked a couple of Hibiscus and Chrysanthemum flowers, a bunches of Mint, Coriander and Tulsi leaves from the pots on the Window sill. Then took a tray of containers and added dried Lime-grass, Fennel, Vettiver and Rosemary. Then he added 2 teaspoons of Palm-sugar, Honey and finally squeezed a few drops of lime juice on the decoction. Though I sipped it with apprehension, the aroma of the drink rushed through my senses and I felt a refreshed breath. In a week’s time, I stopped drinking Coffee and Tea and switched to Mark’s herbal drink after collecting all the ingredients from various sources. In a few months my frequent nose block was gone completely and I also my weight reduced significantly.

The Farm House

My visits continued and on a Thursday, he called and invited me to his house on the following Sunday, to accompany him on a picnic to the farm house he is constructing, where would be spending the later part of his life. On the scheduled Sunday, along with Mark and Mrs. Grace, I started the trip. Near the Bonded Labor shed on the Kodai Palani Ghat road, he took a left turn and headed on the Ganaesapuram Road. After 8 KMs, he parked the car near a group of locals with a palanquin made of a bamboo chair tied on a reaper on its two sides. The men carried his Mom on the palanquin while Mark and I followed them through the foot-path. It would have been at least 6 KMs when we reached a grove of lemon trees (Got reminded of the beautiful Lemon Tree song by Fool’s Garden).

The scent of the ripe lemon mixed with the strong smell of mud was rejuvenating. Through the grove, I saw a two storey house built in random rubble masonry. As we reached the cottage, the group led Mrs.Grace into the house, while we sat on the verandah that ran along the walls with its heavy stone pillars. Except for the occasional cooing of the birds and humming of the rolling stream, there was only silence. I felt more relaxed than ever after the 6 KM walk through the jungle and I wanted to remain there forever.

I noticed that there was something unique with the mortar binding the walls. Mark told me that he started building this house a year ago and would take another year to complete. The house was built with granite rubble stones collected from the vicinity and the mortar used for binding the stones is a mixture of red gravel, lime stones, sand and jaggery. He has not used cement or any of a artificial material in building this house. The windows and doors were made by reusing the old windows and doors as he is strongly against felling of trees in the name of development. The floor was laid with terracotta tiles and the roof was a simple truss like structure covered by Mangalore Tiles. The wide bath room was tiled beautifully with small pieces of broken tiles of varying colors that he collected from the debris of the bath rooms of his shenbaganur house and he personally laid it creating a piece of art. There was a solar heater and an array of solar panels to supply electricity to the house and the water got collected in a tank on the roof by through gravity from the water fall at the back yard. I busied myself engrossed in every minute details of the house and Mark went to the kitchen to prepare our lunch.

The lunch was a salad of Knol-Khol, Turnip and leeks, red rice porridge, boiled legumes and a salad of peach dipped in honey as dessert. After the lunch, I stretched on a slanting rock below the water fall with my legs hanging through the streaming water. It was almost 4’0 clock when Mark announced that we should leave else, it would be too dark to locate the foot path.

The disconnect

The last time I visited Mark was to wish Mrs.Grace on her 94^th birthday and after I left Kodai, I rarely thought about them. Few years before, when I was going through Fit for Life by Harvey and Marilyn Diamond, a book presented by Mark, I got reminded of Mark and I called him. Mark was happy to hear from me and his mom appreciated me on my thoughtfulness. I invited him to our home if he happens to visit Chennai and he told me there was no reason for him to leave Kodai. Moreover, he told that his farm house is in the verge of completion he is making arrangements for settling there very soon and wished I should come there for a stay. I thanked him and when I hung the phone, I felt a sense of heaviness growing on my heart for having left such a beautiful people and place. But I know, life should go on as is. Last year, I called to wish Mrs.Grace on her birthday, only to hear the voice on the other side saying “The number you have dialed no longer exists”. I realized that he would have settled in his farm house far from any form of communication. Probably, I will visit his farm house during my next visit to Kodaikanal and till then, my mind has enough stupidities to be occupied with.

Mani C Markose

It was in my 9th class that I met Mani C Markose, a little 6th class guy who had the guts to walk in front of us when we were standing in the mess. I wouldn’t have cared if he had been from some other house. But his T-shirt revealed that he is from Bharathi House, for which I was the House Captain. I turned pale with anger and shame, when my batch mates stared at me. I didn’t react, as I didn’t want to make scene in the mess, where the whole school, including my seniors has gathered for the evening Roll Call, instead made quick plans to deal with the guy during the House Roll call, where I will have complete authority.

As usual, the house Roll Call started at 9:00 PM and when it was finished, I asked him to meet me in my room. The house master KRMK asked if there is a specific reason, and I told him that he deserves a punishment for his misbehavior in the mess. He asked me not to man-handle(beat) him, as it is becoming an issue during the Parent’s meet and I agreed.

I went to my room and washed and changed. There was a knock at the door, accompanied by a cry, “Please, may I come in man?.”

I said with a stern voice knowing that it would be culprit, “Come in.”

I was shooting many questions about his misconduct, about himself, about his family and he was answering everything with a pleasing smile. At the back of the mind, something kept saying that, this guy will be a friend for ever and somehow, I felt that he should be treated so, though it is not a custom for an Amravian to treat a junior as a friend. I order to keep a balance, I decided that he will be punished, but at the same time, he will remain a friend. I delegated a few duties as a form of punishment and he will perform them for me, so that he will be a friend.

You will bring tea for me in the mess
You will carry my books (envisioning to study a couple of text books in the room, which never materialized) from the school to house and back

The next day, my friends were proud of me, seeing the guy carrying my books and offering tea for me. This went on for 2 years and by then we were almost friends that, I visited his house and he visited mine. Finally, he ended up writing all my practical records, when I was in 12th class.

We were in constant touch even after I left the school, and after he left the school, though we were poles apart with respect to the career we have chosen.

It was a happy moment for me, when he visited our house yesterday and I was astonished by the kind of love and respect he had for me in the same way I have for him. Apart from the gifts for my son and a bottle of Smirnoff for me, he shared with me some beautiful snaps of Andaman, so that I will fulfill his long pending invitation. I don't think I will be able to make it before he is posted to the next station! OK, let me post some of those beautiful snaps...........

This is he!