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A long while ago I had posted this piece on my blogsite:
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Saturday, October 17, 2009
P. S: May Hakimbhai's soul rest in peace...om shaanti om!
http://www.achhikhabar.com/2011/05/07/chanakya-quotes-in-hindi/
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The first choti I saw was on the head of my granpa...it was truly a pigtail. And he was not tying it but just left it to float in the air. As chotis go it was a sham of an excuse...the rest of his head was tonsured periodically. And it was such a small wisp that he could at best beckon a dozen or less demonesses all of whom my grannie would have swallowed whole, and if needed their owner too.
The next one was on the head of my Shakespeare Uncle. He was caught between the British culture and Indian but he managed to harmonize them both in his dress and hairstyle. He wore a khadi galabandh coat. But over a white cotton dhoti. He wore a hint of kumkum on his forehead but so faint that it couldn't be seen easily like Alices' White Knight:
And he had a regular crop of hair which his Royal Barber used to 'dress' fortnightly at his home. But he made amends by leaving a tuft of hair that was tied up so tight that only his barber could see its presence...it mixed with the rest of his crop so well like Ganga with Sagar.
Next it was my own turn to flaunt a dogtail:
http://fujairahinfocus.blogspot.in/2011/05/arab-proverb-dogs-tail-will-never-be.html
I never agreed to have my head tonsured clean till the day of my father's death. That evening I thought I should humor my mom since after all she knew him longer ;-)
So, after returning from the Cremation Ground I asked her what I should do to please her. She asked me to go to the barber shop and have my head tonsured leaving a choti at the back. The barber appeared to know his job well and did his best. I was supposed to keep it till the 13th day Feast and go to the barber again and get it shaved off too.
I said ok. My youngest niece who was about 3 years old was staying with us then and she found a wonderful job which her didi did to her daily...making a braid of her hair. She used to come and stand behind me stealthily while I was sitting and reading and braid my tuft and unbraid it and braid it again in what she called the Japanese style and then Chinese style...to her heart's content...the kid is now doing her M.S. in Delaware.
The latest choti I saw was yesterday on the Commander-in-Chief of the Telugu Purohits in Hyderabad. My son was asked to approach him to finalize the rest of the last rites of his mom. In my last blog I described how my son got trapped leg and middle by the Traffic Police in Khairatabad while trying to tail this gentleman who constantly shifted base from Tank Bund to NTR Gardens to Necklace Road (spelt Neckless Road on hoardings).
When we finally caught up with him, the C-in-C had just parked his Mahindra Bolero and was waiting for us with all his blinkers on.
A look at him and his Bolero was enough to conclude like Watson that here is a Purohit who is Minister-Grade.
And he was dressed like my Shakespeare Uncle in an outfit that is neither too British nor too Indian but a synthesized alloy of the two. And his face had a quiet make-up on a silky foundation. His brows were trimmed. And he had a moochh like any Telugu Movie hero. And he had a crop that was obviously done and redone every week. And it was playing hide and seek with a choti that could be raised and flaunted as and when needed.
The Ultimate Minister's Minister.
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A long while ago I had posted this piece on my blogsite:
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Saturday, October 17, 2009
Mehsud mehsud
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Dear Hakimulla Bhai:
I was delighted at your statement that after Islamizing Pakistan you will turn your attention to India.
I keenly look forward to the Day! To my utter disgust I find India a totally irreligious and corrupting civilization (if you can call it that). Our forefathers from Ghazni to Aurangzeb tried hard to achieve what you laudably propose to do, but utterly failed.
Instead, they settled down here and got themselves corrupted thoroughly. (Akbar, the Great,…[no not the Allah Ho Akbar]…, even proposed a new mongrel religion that is neither here nor there).
I have been living in Nizam’s own Hyderabad for over 5 years now and I am distressed to find our Hyderabadi Muslim Bhais participating wholeheartedly in Ganesh Puja, Durga Puja, Diwali and even Bathkamma Puja.
On the other hand, the non-Muslims of Hyderbad, chiefly the Kafir Hindus, after gorging their full meals throughout the day during the Holy Ramzan month, eagerly queue up at Iftar time at the famed Hyderabadi Haleem outlets and gobble up all the available delicious Irani Haleem, leaving nothing to our starving Muslim bhais. (They even sell Veg Haleem nowadays for pony-tailed Brahmins).
Please do something about this as early as possible. But make sure you won’t settle down in Hyderabad and take to its mysterious ways (in which case I offer to be your mentor in the Hyderabadi culture, such as it is).
Happy Diwali!
Dear Hakimulla Bhai:
I was delighted at your statement that after Islamizing Pakistan you will turn your attention to India.
I keenly look forward to the Day! To my utter disgust I find India a totally irreligious and corrupting civilization (if you can call it that). Our forefathers from Ghazni to Aurangzeb tried hard to achieve what you laudably propose to do, but utterly failed.
Instead, they settled down here and got themselves corrupted thoroughly. (Akbar, the Great,…[no not the Allah Ho Akbar]…, even proposed a new mongrel religion that is neither here nor there).
I have been living in Nizam’s own Hyderabad for over 5 years now and I am distressed to find our Hyderabadi Muslim Bhais participating wholeheartedly in Ganesh Puja, Durga Puja, Diwali and even Bathkamma Puja.
On the other hand, the non-Muslims of Hyderbad, chiefly the Kafir Hindus, after gorging their full meals throughout the day during the Holy Ramzan month, eagerly queue up at Iftar time at the famed Hyderabadi Haleem outlets and gobble up all the available delicious Irani Haleem, leaving nothing to our starving Muslim bhais. (They even sell Veg Haleem nowadays for pony-tailed Brahmins).
Please do something about this as early as possible. But make sure you won’t settle down in Hyderabad and take to its mysterious ways (in which case I offer to be your mentor in the Hyderabadi culture, such as it is).
Happy Diwali!
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P. S: May Hakimbhai's soul rest in peace...om shaanti om!
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My IAS B-i-L told me that he immensely enjoyed the piece, but had a little thing to point out. Namely, the word "pony-tailed" before Brahmins should be replaced by "pig-tailed".
I was visiting him in Madras then on my way back from Madurai. And I had stopped for a while at the famous temple town of Srirangam, holy of the holies for Vaishnavites (my Bi-L happens to be a Vaishnavite himself). And I told him that the tails I saw on the heads of the priests at that temple were more ponylike than piglike.
The fact of the matter is that all orthodox brahmin males in India are supposed to wear a tuft of hair (choti) on their pates; and the styles of their chotis differ as much in their shape and size as the wearers themselves...a sort of a la carte.
There are pigtails, ponytails, dogtails, cattails, rattails, elephanttails, horsetails and langurtails...adorning various locales of the pate.
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There is this story from Bhagavatam where the irascible sage Durvasa gets so wild at King Amabarish for not waiting for him to eat that he plucks a hair from his choti and transforms it into a demoness...just imagine what would have happened had he plucked all his hairs in a tantrum.
And our History Teacher in school told us that Chanakya (Kautilya) took a vow that he would never tie his choti knot till the Nanda Kings who insulted him were all defeated and dethroned.
http://www.achhikhabar.com/2011/05/07/chanakya-quotes-in-hindi/
**********************************************************************************
The first choti I saw was on the head of my granpa...it was truly a pigtail. And he was not tying it but just left it to float in the air. As chotis go it was a sham of an excuse...the rest of his head was tonsured periodically. And it was such a small wisp that he could at best beckon a dozen or less demonesses all of whom my grannie would have swallowed whole, and if needed their owner too.
The next one was on the head of my Shakespeare Uncle. He was caught between the British culture and Indian but he managed to harmonize them both in his dress and hairstyle. He wore a khadi galabandh coat. But over a white cotton dhoti. He wore a hint of kumkum on his forehead but so faint that it couldn't be seen easily like Alices' White Knight:
- But I was thinking of a plan
- To dye one's whiskers green,
- And always use so large a fan
- That they could not be seen.
Next it was my own turn to flaunt a dogtail:
http://fujairahinfocus.blogspot.in/2011/05/arab-proverb-dogs-tail-will-never-be.html
I never agreed to have my head tonsured clean till the day of my father's death. That evening I thought I should humor my mom since after all she knew him longer ;-)
So, after returning from the Cremation Ground I asked her what I should do to please her. She asked me to go to the barber shop and have my head tonsured leaving a choti at the back. The barber appeared to know his job well and did his best. I was supposed to keep it till the 13th day Feast and go to the barber again and get it shaved off too.
I said ok. My youngest niece who was about 3 years old was staying with us then and she found a wonderful job which her didi did to her daily...making a braid of her hair. She used to come and stand behind me stealthily while I was sitting and reading and braid my tuft and unbraid it and braid it again in what she called the Japanese style and then Chinese style...to her heart's content...the kid is now doing her M.S. in Delaware.
The latest choti I saw was yesterday on the Commander-in-Chief of the Telugu Purohits in Hyderabad. My son was asked to approach him to finalize the rest of the last rites of his mom. In my last blog I described how my son got trapped leg and middle by the Traffic Police in Khairatabad while trying to tail this gentleman who constantly shifted base from Tank Bund to NTR Gardens to Necklace Road (spelt Neckless Road on hoardings).
When we finally caught up with him, the C-in-C had just parked his Mahindra Bolero and was waiting for us with all his blinkers on.
A look at him and his Bolero was enough to conclude like Watson that here is a Purohit who is Minister-Grade.
And he was dressed like my Shakespeare Uncle in an outfit that is neither too British nor too Indian but a synthesized alloy of the two. And his face had a quiet make-up on a silky foundation. His brows were trimmed. And he had a moochh like any Telugu Movie hero. And he had a crop that was obviously done and redone every week. And it was playing hide and seek with a choti that could be raised and flaunted as and when needed.
The Ultimate Minister's Minister.
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