Divine grace-

 A lesser-known story from the Ramayana

The long and arduous journey, far and wide through the jungles of Kishkinda, in the search for Sita Devi, was tiresome, and the Vanaras’ became exhausted and dismayed. It was when they saw a Vulture resting near the banyan tree. It was Sampati, the demi god and elder brother of Jatayu.  Angada, the Vanara group leader, built rapport with him and shared the predicament and sorrow that brought them there. Sampati, once back to normalcy, conveyed to Angada and the entourage that he saw Ravana carrying Sita Devi in his Vehicle, moving in the south direction, beyond the seas, and about Sri Lanka.

In no time Sri Rama along with Lakshmana and the Army of monkeys led by Angada, Hanuman and Jambavan reached the southern coast of our vast land. Though much exhausted, they were bemused on seeing the vast expanse of water that separated them from Sri Lanka. They were not dismayed; instead, they were fully charged mentally because they knew now the search for Sita is over. It is now for Sri Rama to act and redeem her from Ravana by peaceful persuasion or by war, if necessary.

Before undertaking any new work, it is customary as per our tradition to seek divine help. So it was desired to consecrate and worship Sri Mahadev. Soon arrangements were made for Poojas, but finding a suitable priest to guide and conduct the same posed a problem. Sri Rama thought for a while and it was suggested that the best person nearby is Ravana, the King of Sri Lanka and to invite him. It gave a mix of complete shock and surprise among the assembly as to how can their enemy be invited to conduct such an auspicious function. Is Ravana a fool to accept such a preposterous invitation from their enemies.  However, it was decided finally that Hanuman was a loyal soldier and to obey the Royal command to undertake the journey to Sri Lanka and convey the message in all humility to Ravana.

No less was the surprise and shock of this strange invitation from Sri Rama, the Prince of Ayodhya, to the people around their King in Sri Lanka. But Ravana true to his stature, as a great scholar and Pundit in Vedas, also an ardent devotee of Lord Shiva was too glad and immediately accepted the invitation to perform the ceremony as it is his Divine duty. Ravana  alongwith Hanuman reached Sri Rama’s place, much to the surprise of everyone around.

Soon the place of worship and other arrangements were inspected by Ravana and turning to Sri Rama, said “O Prince of Ayodhya, though you have organized all well for the conduct of this function, you are not qualified to install the idol of Lord Shiva in the absence of your wife. Our shastras declare that no person, however high, can perform such ceremonies without his consort aside.”

The entire assembly was silent and the mood was charged by confusion and curiosity to know what next?

Sri Rama, the noble Prince was calm, smiled and replied, “We are so happy that you came on our invitation and to conduct the flawless performance of the consecration. It is your duty to point out a flaw in tune with your knowledge as a pundit. While I thank you, may I also request for a solution too which also forms part of your duty.”


The King of Sri Lanka was not only a great Ruler but also a great scholar. The scholar in him rose to the occasion now and said,” O Rama, I can and shall provide a solution, save blame will follow me for non-performance of the Divine worship, but on a condition .I shall arrange to bring Sita here for the ceremony but you should permit her to return back to my place as soon after the function.”

The gathering were aghast and speechless at the clash of wit and fantasy of words between the two great men and waited with bated breath of Sri Rama’s rejoinder. The noblest of men, ever cheerful, simply accepted the offer. The ceremony was conducted with all pomp serenity and in solemnity.

Ravana on viewing the couple blessed, “Let victory be yours”. ! He knew very well the irony of those words meant his own destruction. Human values surpass all constraints of the self.

This exposition of Sanatana postures and privileges between the greatest of kings and noblest of men, was becoming even a treat for the Gods!

The last remaining formality is that of honoring the priest with Dakshina. Sri Rama invited the Pundit himself to suggest the fees for the ceremony. It was at this juncture the greatest and most crucial episode of Ramayana unfolded before an unbelieving audience.

Ravana, the mighty king would not accept any gifts, fees from anybody, not even from Sri Rama, as he always was at giving and not taking favors. But again, as the occasion demanded the vedic  Pandit in him came to the fore and said , “ Sri Rama, knowing you as very well, the only fee I solicit is that you stand by me when my life departs “.

Thus it came to pass, that when Ravana lay with arrows in the battlefield, in his last moments Sri Rama was near him.

THIS EPISODE ONLY REVEALS, HOWEVER HIGH OR LOW ONE MAY BE THE ULTIMATE AND LASTING COMFORT REMAINS IN HAVING DIVINITY NEARBY AT THE MOMENT OF DEATH

( source : Veda Vyasa Ramayana )

 

യോഗി, ഭോഗി, രോഗി.

യോഗി, ഭോഗി, രോഗി.

(ആരോഗ്യത്തിന് ഒരു പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല്!)

ഇന്നലെ വൈകുന്നേരം ഞാൻ എന്റെ ആരോഗ്യസ്ഥിതിയെക്കുറിച്ച് എന്റെ സുഹൃത്തായ ഡോക്ടറുമായി കൂടിയാലോചിക്കാൻ പോയി. സംഭാഷണത്തിനിടയിൽ ഞാൻ പറഞ്ഞു, “ഞാൻ എന്റെ ഭക്ഷണക്രമം ഗണ്യമായി കുറച്ചിരിക്കുന്നു; ഉച്ചയ്ക്ക് ഒരു തവണ മാത്രമേ ഞാൻ കഴിക്കാറുള്ളു''. എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശി ഇതിനെക്കുറിച്ച് ഒരു പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല് പറയാറുണ്ടായിരുന്നു: ‘ഒരു തവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ യോഗി; രണ്ടുതവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ ഭോഗി; മൂന്ന് തവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ ദ്രോഹി (രാജ്യദ്രോഹി)!’

"എന്റെ അമ്മ ഇതേ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല് അല്പം വ്യത്യസ്തമായി പറയുമായിരുന്നു. മൂന്ന്നേരം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവരെ അവർ രോഗി എന്ന് വിളിക്കും" എന്റെ സുഹൃത്ത് മറുപടി പറഞ്ഞു.

അവന്റെ അമ്മ പറഞ്ഞതാണ് ആ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ലിന്റെ സാധാരണ പതിപ്പെന്ന് എനിക്കറിയാം. എന്നിരുന്നാലും, എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശി അത് വളച്ചൊടിച്ചതിന് ഒരു പശ്ചാത്തലമുണ്ട്.

കുട്ടിക്കാലത്ത്, സ്കൂൾ അവധിക്കാലത്ത് ഞങ്ങൾ എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ ഗ്രാമം സന്ദർശിക്കുമായിരുന്നു. അവരുടെ അതിരറ്റ വാത്സല്യത്തിനും കർശനമായ അച്ചടക്കത്തിനും അവർ പേരുകേട്ടവരായിരുന്നു. രാവിലെ 8:00 മണിയോടെ, ഞങ്ങളുടെ പ്രഭാതഭക്ഷണം കട്ടിയുള്ള തൈരിൽ പഴയ ചോറ് (പുളിപ്പിച്ച അരി) ആയിരുന്നു. ഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ചതിനുശേഷം, കളിക്കാനും നീന്താനും ഞങ്ങൾ അമ്പലക്കുളത്തിലേക്കു പോകും. ഉച്ചയ്ക്ക് 12:30 ന് ചൂടോടെ ഉച്ചഭക്ഷണം കിട്ടും. ബാക്കി സമയം പുറത്ത് കളിക്കുകയോ, ചെറിയ കാര്യങ്ങൾ ചെയ്യുകയോ,പോസ്റ്റ്ഓഫീസ്, വായനശാല തുടങ്ങിയവ സന്ദർശിക്കുകയോ ചെയ്യും. ഇടയ്ക്ക് ഞങ്ങൾ ലഘുഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുമായിരുന്നു. വൈകുന്നേരം 6:30 ന് അത്താഴം വിളമ്പി, തുടർന്ന് ഉറങ്ങുന്നതുവരെ മുത്തശ്ശിയിൽ നിന്ന് കഥകൾ കേൾക്കും . പതിവുപോലെ അവധിക്കാലത്ത് ഞാൻ അവരെ കാണാൻപോകുമായിരുന്നു. ബംഗളുരുവിൽ തിരിച്ചെത്തിയപ്പോൾ, വൈകുന്നേരം 4:30 ന് സ്കൂളിൽ നിന്ന് തിരിച്ചെത്തിയ ഉടൻ തന്നെ ഞങ്ങൾ ലഘുഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കാറുണ്ടായിരുന്നു. അതുതന്നെ പ്രതീക്ഷിച്ചുകൊണ്ട്, ഞാൻ എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ അടുത്തേക്ക് ലഘുഭക്ഷണത്തിനായി പോയി. അവർ മറുപടി പറഞ്ഞു, "ഒരു തവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ ഒരു യോഗിയാണ്; രണ്ടുതവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ ഒരു ഭോഗിയാണ്; മൂന്ന് തവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ അവന്റെ വീടിനും അവന്റെ രാജ്യത്തിനും ഒരു ദ്രോഹിയാണ്!"

"നീ മൂന്ന് നേരം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ചു കഴിഞ്ഞു, വീടിനെയും രാജ്യത്തെയും അപമാനിക്കുകയാണ്. അതിനു പുറമേ ഇനിയും ലഘുഭക്ഷണം വേണോ?" അവർ കൂട്ടിച്ചേർത്തു.

അവരുടെ ലക്ഷ്യം ലളിതമായിരുന്നു. കുട്ടികൾ അനാവശ്യമായി ഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ച് അവരുടെ ആരോഗ്യം നശിപ്പിക്കരുത്. ശരിയായ സമയത്ത് ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കണം, നന്നായി ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കണം, പകുതി മനസ്സോടെ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിച്ച് പിന്നീട് കൂടുതൽ ചോദിച്ച് തിരിച്ചുവരരുത്. വളരെക്കാലം, എന്റെ അമ്മ പിന്നീട് എനിക്ക് യഥാർത്ഥ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല് വിശദീകരിച്ചു തരുന്നതുവരെ, എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ലിന്റെ പതിപ്പ് ശരിയാണെന്ന് ഞാൻ വിശ്വസിച്ചിരുന്നു. 'രോഗി' എന്നത് വൈദ്യശാസ്ത്ര യാഥാർത്ഥ്യമാണെങ്കിലും, 'ദ്രോഹി' (രാജ്യദ്രോഹി) എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ "അച്ചടക്ക മുദ്ര" ആയിരുന്നു. അമിതമായി ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നത് തടയാൻ ആ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല് ഒരു "ധാർമ്മിക പ്രതിരോധം" ആയി ഉപയോഗിക്കാനുള്ള അവരുടെ കഴിവ് അവരുടെ ശ്രദ്ധേയമായ ചാതുര്യത്തെ കാണിക്കുന്നു.

പരമ്പരാഗത വൈദ്യശാസ്ത്രത്തിലും യോഗയിലും ഭക്ഷണശീലങ്ങൾ ആരോഗ്യത്തെ എങ്ങനെ ബാധിക്കുന്നു എന്ന് ഈ പഴഞ്ചൊല്ല് ഊന്നിപ്പറയുന്നു.

ഒരു​​നേരം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ യോഗിയാണ്:

യോഗികളോ സന്യാസിമാരോ സാധാരണയായി ഒരു ദിവസം ഒരു നേരം മുഴുവൻ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കാറുണ്ട്. ഇത് ഇവ നൽകുന്നു:

ദഹനത്തിന് വിശ്രമം: ദഹനവ്യവസ്ഥയെ അമിതമായി പ്രവർത്തിപ്പിക്കാതിരിക്കുന്നതിലൂടെ,ഊർജ്ജം ശാരീരികവും മാനസികവുമായ ശുദ്ധീകരണത്തിലേക്ക് തിരിച്ചുവിടപ്പെടുന്നു.

മാനസിക വ്യക്തത: വയറിന് ഭാരം കുറവായിരിക്കുമ്പോൾ, മനസ്സ് ഉണർന്നും ശാന്തമായും തുടരും, ഇത് ധ്യാനത്തിന് അനുയോജ്യമാണ്.

രണ്ടുനേരം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ ഭോഗിയാണ്:

ലൗകിക ജീവിതം നയിക്കുന്നവർക്ക് (വീട്ടുകാർക്ക്), ദിവസത്തിൽ രണ്ടുതവണ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നത് ആരോഗ്യകരമാണെന്ന് കണക്കാക്കപ്പെടുന്നു.

ബാലൻസ്:ദഹനവ്യവസ്ഥയെ,അമിതഭാരത്തിലാക്കാതെ ദൈനംദിന ജോലികൾക്ക് ആവശ്യമായ ഊർജ്ജം ഇത് നൽകുന്നു.

പ്രവർത്തനം: ശാരീരിക അധ്വാനത്തിലും ബൗദ്ധിക ജോലിയിലും ഏർപ്പെട്ടിരിക്കുന്നവരെ ഇത് നിലനിർത്തുന്നു.

മൂന്ന്നേരം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നവൻ രോഗിയാണ്:

ഇവിടെ രോഗി എന്നാൽ രോഗി എന്നാണ് അർത്ഥമാക്കുന്നത്. അനാവശ്യമായി മൂന്ന് തവണയിൽ കൂടുതൽ ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നത് ആരോഗ്യപ്രശ്നങ്ങൾക്ക് കാരണമാകുന്നു.

ദഹന സംബന്ധമായ തകരാറുകൾ: മുൻ ഭക്ഷണം ദഹിക്കുന്നതിന് മുമ്പ് കഴിക്കുന്നത് വിഷവസ്തുക്കളുടെ ശേഖരണത്തിലേക്ക് നയിക്കുന്നു.

രോഗങ്ങളുടെ മൂലം: അമിതമായി ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുന്നത് പൊണ്ണത്തടി, പ്രമേഹം, ഹൃദ്രോഗം, അലസത എന്നിവയിലേക്ക് നയിക്കുന്നു.

ഉപസംഹാരം.

പഴഞ്ചൊല്ലുകൾ കാലക്രമേണ പരിണമിക്കുന്നത് സ്വാഭാവികമാണെങ്കിലും, എന്റെ മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ വാക്കുകൾ അവരുടെ മൂർച്ചയുള്ള ബുദ്ധിശക്തിയെ കാണിക്കുന്നു. കുട്ടികൾക്കുള്ള സ്വാതന്ത്ര്യം ചിലപ്പോൾ ആരോഗ്യം മോശമാകാൻ ഇടയാക്കും. ആരോഗ്യകരമായ ഭക്ഷണം വ്യക്തിപരമായ ക്ഷേമത്തിന്റെ കാര്യമായി മാത്രമല്ല, ഒരു "സാമൂഹിക ഉത്തരവാദിത്തമായും","ഒരാളുടെ വീടിനോടും രാജ്യത്തോടുമുള്ളകടമയായുംരൂപപ്പെടുത്തുന്നതിലൂടെ, അവർ ഒരു ഉറച്ച അതിർത്തി സൃഷ്ടിച്ചു. ആദ്യം കഴിച്ച തു ദഹിച്ചതിനുശേഷം മാത്രം വീണ്ടും ഭക്ഷണകഴിക്കണമെന്ന എന്റെ

മുത്തശ്ശിയുടെ നിർബന്ധം, ഫലത്തിൽ, ഇന്ററോസെപ്ഷൻ- ശരീരത്തിന്റെ ആന്തരിക സിഗ്നലുകൾ ശ്രദ്ധിക്കാനുള്ള കഴിവ് - എന്നെ പഠിപ്പിച്ചു.

ആത്യന്തികമായി, ഈ വരികൾ അളവിനേക്കാൾ സമയത്തിന് പ്രാധാന്യം നൽകുന്നു. ശരീരത്തിന്റെ വിശപ്പിനെ ബഹുമാനിക്കുകയും ആവശ്യമുള്ളത്ര മാത്രം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കുകയും ചെയ്യുക എന്നതാണ് കാതലായ സന്ദേശം. യോഗി, ഭോഗി, രോഗി എന്നീ വർഗ്ഗീകരണങ്ങൾ "വിശപ്പിന്റെ സംവേദനത്തിന്" തന്നെയാണ് മുൻഗണന നൽകുന്നത്. നമ്മുടെ പൂർവ്വികർ യുഗങ്ങൾക്ക് മുമ്പ് തിരിച്ചറിഞ്ഞത് - ശരിക്കും വിശക്കുമ്പോൾ മാത്രം ഭക്ഷണം കഴിക്കേണ്ടതിന്റെ പ്രാധാന്യം ഇന്ന് ആഗോളതലത്തിൽ "ഇടവിട്ടുള്ള ഉപവാസം" ഇന്ന് അംഗീകരിക്കപ്പെട്ടിരിക്കുന്നു.

ഈ മറന്നുപോയിരിക്കാൻ സാദ്യതയുള്ള അറിവ് നിങ്ങളുമായി പങ്കുവെക്കുന്നതിൽ എനിക്ക് സന്തോഷമുണ്ട്. തീർച്ചയായും നിങ്ങൾക്കിത് ഇഷ്ടപ്പെടുമായിരിക്കും .

സ്നേഹപൂർവം,

Kaapi, an emotion more than a drink

*From Kalpathy to Kumbakonam:- South Indians Turned Percolation Physics Into sheer Bliss

There are only three things every South Indian household treat as non-negotiable: God, gold, and filter kaapi. And not necessarily in that order.

Forget Silicon Valley, ignore the IIT Mafia. The single greatest engineering marvel ever to emerge from the land between Palakkad Gap and Mylapore Tank is a shining, humble, stainless-steel device that Europe could never dream of and America could never patent.

No, not the pressure cooker.

It’s the South Indian coffee filter — that two-tiered metal cylinder with enough perforations to rival Swiss cheese and enough attitude to put Michelin-star chefs to shame! 

It is arguably the most elegant domestic application of percolation physics known to humankind.

It’s the kind of design Steve Jobs would have stolen, trademarked, and sold as the i-Filter Pro Max for $999.

European coffee machines hiss like angry cobras.

American percolators bubble-like badly-behaved volcanoes.

Our South Indian filter?

Silent. Minimal. Deadly.

The only object in our culture that has achieved Nirvana without ever going to Hrishikesh.

While Europe and America built water purifiers, oil filters, HEPA systems, and vacuum cleaners with the filtration principle, we took that knowledge and said:

“Nice. But can it produce bliss?”

Yes, the West Invented Filtration; We Invented percolated filter kaapi! Ask any South Indian what the real breakthrough was, and they will declare — without blinking

“The stainless-steel kaapi filter." 

London’s sand filter gave you potable water; our kaapi filter gives you purpose in life!

Everything else is background noise!

*A Coffee Filter with the Soul of a Philosopher*

The Kaapi filter is deceptively simple. 

It takes finely ground coffee, a spoonful of chicory (because life must have some bitterness), and hot water — and through an alchemical gravitational ballet, produces decoction thick enough to reset the nation. It is filter kaapi.

Ah, that fragrance that turns atheists briefly spiritual. And flavor that convinces you that reincarnation might actually be worth it.

Bold, unapologetic and capable of restarting the national grid & making the dead phone ring when served in a davara-tumbler set.

The civilized South Indian — the cultured, sane, liver-preserving one — prefers a morning shot of filter kaapi, the only beverage that can wake you up, cheer you up, tidy your soul, and make you temporarily optimistic about the nation. It’s a national antidepressant, a mood stabilizer.

It’s the only drink that can stop arguments, start conversations, make political discussions briefly civil. It’s capable of tolerating WhatsApp family groups and preventing civil war inside joint families.

A beverage so divine that even Gods look down from Kailasa and whisper, “Enna aroma da!” (What a great aroma)

A tumbler of liquid philosophy that explains the Upanishads without speaking a word.

The Beverage That Makes Even Mondays Forgivable-

Let’s speak the truth.

What Americans drink is de-caffeinated depressant.

What Europeans drink is espresso strong that smells like burnt tyre.

What North Indians make should come with a statutory warning. It’s the unwilling arranged alliance between Nescafé & hot water!

Every South Indian Household Is a Physics Lab.

Europe had Newton, Einstein, Faraday, and Maxwell.

South India had traditionally attired madisaar paatis  (grandmas) whose morning routine perfectly demonstrated the laws of gravity & thermodynamics! 

We should be awarding honorary PhDs to every ‘Madisaar Paati' from Kalpathy to Kumbakonam. From Mayavaram to Madras. From Mysore to Mambalam.

No Patent, no Billion-Dollar Start-Up — Just Pure Genius

Unlike the West, which cannot invent a doorknob without filing twelve patents, the South Indian coffee filter has no inventor’s name, no official patent and no corporate backstory.   

While Silicon Valley glorifies “disruption,” South India quietly perfects the art of continuity — the same ritual, every single morning, with the same devotion as temple bells at dawn.

A steaming tumbler of kaapi is basically a syllabus of the Upanishads in blissful silence!

*Meter Kaapi: Our Aerodynamic Skydiving Masterpiece *

No kaapi discussion is complete without meter kaapi — that majestic one-meter pour between davara and tumbler.

It is a cinematic performance where again, gravity, aerodynamics, precision engineering, and caffeine join hands like a Bharatanatyam ensemble.

It is the only time in life when liquid travels with grace, purpose, and the quiet confidence of someone who has never spilled a drop.

France has champagne. South India has meter kaapi, our own rocket fuel. And honestly — we win.

The Delicious Irony-

Just quiet, anonymous brilliance — perfected by generations of 'paatis‘ (grandmas)  who treated decoction extraction like rocket scientists would treat a NASA mission - minus the hype! 

And that’s why the greatest high in the world comes not from whisky, tequila, bourbon, or German beer — but from a perfectly extracted shot of South Indian filter kaapi.

To quote Berty Ashley “Coffee is a Drink, Kaapi is an Emotion”

Lovers of kaapi — share the blend! 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

* Kalpathi- a settlement/ colony of Brahmins in Palghat Town

Kumbakonam- A town near Tanjore in Tamil Nadu

** Credits to Whatsapp Author

THE BOOK BENEATH THE BENCH

 

 Anthony Hopkins couldn’t find a single copy of a book anywhere in London. Then, exhausted, he sat down on a subway bench.

It was 1973. Hopkins had just landed a role in a film called The Girl from Petrovka, adapted from a novel by American journalist George Feifer. Like any serious actor, he wanted to read the original book to fully understand the story and his character.

He spent an entire day combing through the bookshops along London’s famous Charing Cross Road, a mecca for bibliophiles and literature lovers. But no matter where he looked, the book was nowhere to be found. It wasn’t available anywhere in the UK.

Frustrated, tired, and ready to give up, Hopkins headed into Leicester Square Underground station to catch a train home.

That’s when he noticed something unusual on one of the benches.

A book, left behind, abandoned.

He picked it up and turned it over.

“The Girl from Petrovka”.

The very book he had been searching for all day, left forgotten on a subway bench in a city of eight million people.

Hopkins couldn’t believe the coincidence.

He took the book home and started reading. As he flipped through the pages, he saw something extraordinary—the margins were filled with handwritten notes in red ink: detailed annotations, insights, and comments.

Someone had carefully marked up this entire book.

Hopkins didn’t think too much of it at the time. He used the notes to deepen his understanding of the character and story as he prepared for the role. The strange coincidence simply became one of those moments life hands you—curious but unexplained.

Months later, Hopkins travelled to Vienna, where filming was underway.

One day on set, he was introduced to a visitor.

George Feifer is the author of the book.

They discussed the film, the characters, and the story. Then Feifer said something that made Hopkins stop in his tracks.

“I don’t have a copy of my own book anymore,” Feifer confessed. “I lent my personal copy to a friend years ago. It had all my notes in the margins. And he lost it somewhere in London. I’ve never seen it since.”

Hopkins felt a chill run down his spine.

“I found a copy,” he said carefully. “On a bench in the Underground. It has handwritten notes throughout.”

Feifer stared at him, stunned.

Hopkins pulled the book from his bag and handed it over.

Feifer’s face went pale.

It was his copy. His handwriting. His annotations.

The very personal book he had lost years earlier—somehow left on a London subway bench at the exact moment Anthony Hopkins, the actor who needed it most, happened to sit beside it.

In a sprawling city of millions. Across thousands of streets. Among hundreds of tube stations.

The right book.

The right bench.

The right moment.

George Feifer got his lost book back.

Anthony Hopkins gained a story he would tell for the rest of his life.

Carl Jung called this kind of event synchronicity—the idea that meaningful coincidences aren’t random, but part of a deeper, invisible pattern woven into the fabric of reality.

Hopkins has always been fascinated by that idea. He’s talked about learning to just be amazed by life.

“I don’t know if there’s a master plan,” he once said, “but sometimes things happen that are just too perfect to explain.”

Maybe it was luck.

Maybe it was fate.

Maybe the universe was quietly smiling.

Or maybe, just maybe,

Some books are meant to find their readers.

And some stories are meant to be told.

===================================

Sir Philip Anthony Hopkins (born 31 December 1937) is a Welsh actor. Considered one of Britain's most recognisable and prolific actors, he is known for his performances on the screen and stage. Hopkins has received numerous accolades, including two Academy Awards, four BAFTA Awards, and two Primetime Emmy Awards. He has also received the Cecil B. DeMello Award in 2005 and the BAFTA Fellowship for lifetime achievement in 2008. He was knighted by Queen Elizabeth 11 for his services to drama in 1993.

 Hopkins has had a prolific career with numerous memorable performances. Some of his notable films include:

The Lion in Winter (1968),  Hamlet (1969), The Elephant Man (1980), The Silence of the Lambs (1991), The Remains of the Day (1993), Bram Stoker's Dracula (1992), The Two Popes (2019 ).

In 2025, Hopkins published his autobiography, “We Did Ok, Kid.”

The Robe of Truth: A Journey from Theft to Redemption"

After wandering for a long time in the Janapadas, a thief named Khemaka arrived at Jetavana Vihara. He was searching for Prince Siddhartha, unaware that the prince had become the Buddha. In Khemaka's possession was a royal robe wrapped in a way that made it unrecognisable. This robe had originally been given to him by Prince Siddhartha.

When people in the forest threw stones at Khemaka for stealing, he fled and sought refuge within a grove. He had no hunting weapons and was wandering, hungry and without food, lamenting his fate. Sitting on a rock, he noticed a monk meditating under a canopy of trees. A deer, a rabbit, and a wolf stood in harmony with him; the wolf did not even glance at the rabbit. Khemaka felt that they must be attached to the yogi, and he thought that if they stayed close to him like that, he could catch the rabbit without weapons.

As he contemplated how to obtain the saffron robe worn by the monk, Khemaka came up with the idea of stealing it. The monk took off his robe and left it on a rock while he went to bathe in the river. Seizing the opportunity, Khemaka stole the robe and fled into a different part of the forest.

Meanwhile, Prince Siddhartha had left the palace and had arrived near the forest. Khemaka, now dressed in the saffron robes, roamed the area hunting small animals. Upon seeing the monk, Khemaka confronted him, claiming he was neither a monk nor a thief, and recounted how he had acquired the saffron robe. Siddhartha advised him not to sin by wearing the saffron robes dishonestly and offered to buy the thief's saffron clothes in exchange for his royal garments. He encouraged Khemaka to sell the jewelled garments and pursue a different life.

After leaving the forest, Khemaka attempted to sell the royal robes at the market, but the merchants caught him. Cleverly, he managed to escape by wrapping the royal robes around himself. He tried to sell the valuable clothing multiple times but was unsuccessful. The gems in the royal robe continued to captivate him. One day, he noticed a snake coiled around his bundled bag. Miraculously, he escaped the snake's bite. However, this incident repeated a few more times, leading Khemaka to become frightened and realise that it would be wiser to surrender the royal robes. From that day on, Khemaka searched for Prince Siddhartha.

Upon arriving at Jetavana, he said, "Young king, you must accept this royal robe back. You do not need to return the saffron robes to me." Khemaka then recounted the hardships he had faced because of the royal robes.

"I'm not the king now, Khemaka," Buddha replied, closing his eyes and meditating, saddened by the thought of the clothes he had given up that had now come back to him.

Endless celebrations! 🎉✨ #Welcome2026

As proud Indians, to say the least, we are a fascinating people.

As the festival season reaches its peak and the year draws to a close, a celebratory mood prevails everywhere. From the bustling lanes of traditional markets to the glittering interiors of modern malls and supermarkets, both small towns and cities are witnessing a surge in shopping activity. Shoppers of all age groups can be seen browsing through stores that sell clothes, footwear, accessories, cosmetics, electronics, watches, and other furnishing items. The excitement is not particularly limited to youngsters, but to all age groups, come what may.

Live music performances, lucky draws, and other promotions have been drawing huge crowds, especially during evening hours. Food courts and restaurants are crowded with families and friends, offering a mix of shopping, dining, and entertainment.

Street markets, roadside vendors, and temporary stalls selling tea and snacks, as well as balloons, candles, fairy lights, and hats, have mushroomed near busy intersections. Flower markets are in increased demand while bakeries and confectioneries are flooded with orders for cakes, pastries, and desserts.

The marketers give you ‘free’ of this or ‘free’ of that every day in and day out. 

Jewellery Shops offer you ‘no making charges’ and also ‘Free Gold coin’ for purchases. Realtors take booking charges only for your chosen flats, and to pay in instalments, and arrange  ‘Free loans’ with a tie-up with Banks. ‘Free installation’ on purchase of Gadgets like AC, Washing machine. Fridge, etc., by Brand shops. When you purchase dishwashing powder, you get a scrubber–free !.

If you buy toothpaste, you either get 20% extra paste or a toothbrush – ‘free’. If you buy three soaps, you get an extra soap – ‘free’.

The pharmacy offers you a 20 to 60 per cent discount on medicines, which anyhow you buy

to live on.

Nobody understands this penchant of ours better than the marketers and their thick blood 'brothers'—the politicians.

One of our quaint traits is our being bound by ‘Free’dom. We want free ration, free education, free travel, free clothes, free houses, free electricity, free income (devoid of any taxes), free products, and ‘free’dom to ease ourselves – verbally and physically too – anytime and anywhere !. After all, ours is a ‘free’ country. We want freedom of speech and action too! We want to pee ‘freely’, and we want to pooh ‘freely’ !.

We have elections for the Gram Panchayat, municipalities, Assembly, and the Parliament. They are more than just a festival season; they are a crucial pillar of our democracy.

 During elections, you are given ‘free’ food, ‘free’ liquor, ‘free’ clothes and sometimes ‘free’ money too, albeit by taking away the freedom to vote for a candidate of your choice! After elections, you are bestowed with white goods like ‘free’ televisions, ‘free’ electric fans, ‘free’ bicycles/tricycles, ‘free’ food processors and

so on.

Despite repeatedly facing misfortunes such as flash floods, avalanches, bridge collapses, stampedes, landslides, explosions, rail crashes, cyber fraud, and even a tariff war, we have proven to be a resilient lot.

We have accepted, with a sense of calm, that politicians will behave in ways that may not always align with our expectations.

Despite the crowds and traffic, the mood across is upbeat, with a blend of modern lifestyle and traditional culture in full display, reflecting the dynamic and diverse character of the people.

It stands as a symbol of hope and renewal of a joyful beginning of Viksit Bharat and another New Year.

LET US WELCOME HAPPY NEW YEAR 2026.

* SHE FELL IN LOVE WITH...

 

    

🤣😜🤣😜🤣     

ENGLISH AT ITS BEST --PUNs to relax and read 

She fell in love with ...

a *Banker* but he showed no *interest.*         

a *Gym Trainer,* but it didn't *Work out.*

a *Librarian,* but his time was always*Booked.*

an *Astronaut*, but he wanted *Space.*  

 an*Electrician*, but for him there was no *Spark.*

a *Cardiologist* but he broke her *Heart.*    

a *Geologist*, but the relationship was too *Rocky.*

an *Economist*, but he couldn’t supply her *Demands.*

a *Violinist* but he said, *"No Strings attached."*

a *Linguist*, but he left her *Speechless.*

a *Seismologist*, but he was always finding *Fault.*

a *Cook*, but he left her on the back *Burner.*

a *Mathematician*, but she couldn't *Count* on him.

a *Scuba diver*--on the surface, everything seemed to be deep fine, but down she knew something *Fishy* was going on.

a *Fisherman*, but he wasn't a good *Catch.*

a Mason, but they never built a strong foundation.*

a *Teacher*, but he had no *Class!*

a *Tennis player,* but *Love meant nothing* to him.

a magician, but he kept playing tricks.*

a *Lawyer*, but he never took her to the *Bar.*

a *Recovery agent* and he *Seized* her.

AND, at last she fell in love with *An ED officer* and got *Attached". * 😆

The Subtle Art of Overeating Politely

 

A hotel’s complimentary buffet breakfast is the closest thing to a polite catastrophe . At 6:30 a.m., grown adults who normally need three alarms to wake up are already hovering outside the restaurant door like it’s a flash sale. The moment it opens, civilization leaves the room . People surge forward with the desperation of a species that fears the poori might run away.

The continental section sits there, lonely, untouched. Croissants looking depressed, bread slices drying in the AC because the true desi minimalists walk past them like past bad memories. Bread and eggs? Why again? They station themselves at the dosa counter with the same intensity that they used for land disputes.

Meanwhile the Full-Hog Overachievers begin their day’s construction work: plate upon plate stacked with paratha touching pasta touching pineapple touching ideological confusion. They aren’t here to eat; they are here to economically punish the hotel for daring to include breakfast in the tariff. A subset of them say “ nothing is good” before they go for a second helping. Another guest drinks nine cups of masala chai and wonders aloud why his BP is rising. The rest of us know.

Then come the Protein Bros, those majestic creatures whose arms enter the buffet three seconds before the rest of their body. They demand fourteen egg whites and bargain like they’re at Chickpet. One bro even pours whey powder into sambar, declaring it a fusion dish. The chef’s soul quietly exits his body.

Nearby, a diabetic guest requests a strict egg-white Omelette while simultaneously dual-wielding mango and pineapple juice like nutritional nunchucks. Their glucose meter files for voluntary retirement. And just when the buffet thinks it has seen enough, the rich sleepers float in at 11:20 a.m. Breakfast long gone, even the toaster unplugged. But time, to them, is a rumor. They demand pancakes from the void, and hotel staff obey with the resignation of civil servants during budget season. They order a la carte..

The business traveler meanwhile is on Day four and has a serving of toast–fried egg–coffee déjà vu. He pockets bananas like he’s smuggling state secrets, sips coffee with dead eyes, and silently wonders when he last felt joy. 

Children, on the other hand, are pure chaos wrapped in sugar. They are charging at waffles, drowning them in chocolate syrup, and rejecting anything that looks remotely like nutrition. The hotel staff steps aside as they sprint past, muffins in both hands like victorious gladiators. Their moms are trying to feed them something they detest. The dads overlook this event…

*Uncles* are the true apex predators: poori, dosa soaked in ghee, pongal the size of a meteor, five cups of chai, and then the inevitable announcement “I eat very light these days.”

*Fitness Moms interrogate the buffet like they’re cracking a terror cell: “Which oil? Which farm? What breed of almond?*” And after all this detective work, they consume three papaya cubes and radiate smug wellness.

Foreign tourists wander around in innocent confusion, eating idli with jam, mixing chutney with muesli, sipping sambar like broth until suddenly their tongue goes numb and they realise India has entered their bloodstream.

The lonely cereal guy sits surrounded by 800 calories of joy and chooses cornflakes anyway, crunching like he’s punishing himself for existing.

Somewhere, an influencer couple rearranges that poori for 40 minutes, taking photos from all angles. By the time they finish, the poori has the emotional stability of a punctured balloon. Nearby, professional buffet looters stuff muffins into handbags, slip bread rolls into jacket pockets, and walk out rustling like walking vegetable markets.

And through all of this, someone always makes an impossible request from masala cornflakes, gluten-free poha to a sugar-free gulab jamun while the staff stares into the horizon questioning every life choice.

A complimentary buffet breakfast is not nourishment. It is revenge, it is childhood trauma, it is class struggle, it is comedy, it is tragedy, it is a deeply personal confrontation with carbs.

It is the Olympics of Paisa Vasool. And after the dust settles, after the plates are cleared, after the last banana is smuggled away, everyone makes the same bold declaration:

“Tomorrow, I’ll eat light.”

And of course, as we leave, all of us are already telling the same lie to ourselves, the oldest lie in the history of complimentary breakfasts:

Tomorrow, we’ll behave better.

Tomorrow arrives.

We won’t.

But it’s sweet that we believe it.

** (Week end humor / Musings  -by an unknown author)