Each one of us has been endowed with the innate capacity to dream. We begin dreaming very early in life as kids.  All of us recollect those times in ourchildhood, can’t we, when we dreamed of wanting to excel in our studies or ofhaving that special toy and when it did materialize, what was it that we felt? A feeling of joy, ecstasy? A dream come true? Moments that we could even cherish for a life time?

Beyond all those feelings there was something more that wehave experienced. I am sure all of us would be able to recognize it- A Feeling of Empowerment. Whether we ourselves strived to achieve it or we found our wishful thinking coming true, we invariably found ourselves in a powerful, positive state.

Do dreams belong only to the right brained people- the creative, artistic kind and not the left brained logical, rational thinkers? If that were the case how could have people in all walks of life found the success quotient in their lives?

If we studied the lives of people who have reached the
level of greatness that has put them on a pedestal, more often we will find that these men started out with a dream. The fact that they decided to act upon them, to perform what was necessary to get the ball rolling made the difference.

“It is in your moments of decision that your destiny is
shaped”

 -   Anthony Robbins

In the past and the recent past, we- me and my family have fallen prey to all kinds of pollution and to those of you who have faced similar situations it may seem like I am making ‘much ado about nothing’.

The area in front and the side of our house is busy with construction activity, a boom in my neighborhood, one a training centre in computer skills, two apartments and one hi-tech commercial complex.

One must understand the way our house is situated to know why we are at the receiving end of all this activity. There is a private road from the main road that ends at the entrance to our house and the property adjacent to ours.

As we make our entrance from the main road, on the left is the training centre and on the right is about half an acre of plot which had in its midst a huge bungalow. As we drive in, on the back of the training centre is this vacant land whose owners purchased and forgot all about it.

This is the place of growth of wild vegetation from weeds, all kinds of wild shrubs to spurting growth from cut trees. Come monsoon and rains they become the haven for the most amazing collection of worms that on any particular day the white washed compound wall turns green with these creatures making their way into our small garden.

By noon we get to see some of them attempting to crawl into the house. This has however been the least of our problems as we have become used to this pattern every year for the last four years but has resulted in a few thousands down the drain in pesticides. After several phone calls to the owners, a bull dozer arrives one fine day and in a matter of hours the undergrowth razed to the ground….the growing cycle continues.

Fives years back the twenty two feet private road was broadened to thirty by our neighbours as a step towards profitable ventures in the future which meant all trees and shrubs lining one side of the road were brought down much to our chagrin in a matter of two days.

Two of them grew back with a vengeance- the Bilwa and teak tree, much to our delight. It seemed to us that a miracle had happened as the bilwa was at the far end of the private road just opposite to the entrance to our home and as a means to protecting it we built a short concrete platform around it.

All the land owners having access to this road raised a big hue and cry and threatened to remove the tree. We did not react and continued with lighting a lamp there every Friday. To this day no one has mustered the guts to touch the tree…. hehehe.

The teak tree also remains....

Work began in these sites all within a gap of a month or two from each other. I am sure we are aware of the noise pollution associated with construction. First the drone of the machines, cutting through thick lime mortar, day and night for more than a month at a stretch……soon it became music to our ears.

With the construction activity it’s the constant clanging of steel against steel and the continuous whirrs of the concrete mixers, day and night…marked between the roars of heavy vehicles trying to unload their stuff….

Then came the invasion of construction workers on all the sites. Built themselves lean to shacks against the compound walls, that too the one separating ours with the adjacent property.

One pleasant breezy morning when I stepped out at around 6.00 and made my way to the gate, peeped over the closed gate and I almost froze. One side of the road was lined by squatting figures all in place for completing their morning jobs.

This was when realization struck that the developers of these properties had 1.no care or compassion for their fellow beings to even get them a make shift toilet or two 2. they had no care of their surroundings …

.In the meanwhile one other strange irritant was the invasion of swarms of flies from the neighbouring shacks that made way to the small back yard and began creating a major nuisance within the house. As a measure to reduce this we had to use insect repellants and shortly turned murderers with a fly killing competition once in a while….and the battle is still on….

Our windows and doors have been shut for the past six months…Now where is the scope for ventilation or infusion of fresh air into the house when the plants and floors have a fine coating of dust and cement every day despite the showering of plants and sweeping, mopping of floors. I suppose our exhalations mixed with the existing oxygen are in a far better state to be inhaled and recycled….

Having protested to the first group’s misuse of the place the owner cum developer in the adjacent property took measures to make provisions immediately.

Next in toe was the construction gang of the most successful property developer of the city. Not only did they come out of that huge property (where a commercial and apartment complex are coming up) they even began storing the materials on the roadside above their own shit….Gross, to say the least.

A mass protest followed and this guy, the big boss who visits the site daily and even made way for his vehicles through this common road by breaking down a portion of the dividing wall rather than use the two direct accesses to the property, claims he had no idea of even the materials being stored on the common road. Can anyone beat that?

I almost forgot, when the training centre was being built we had these empty food packets being hurled into our compound at the end of every meal till the time we called those owners and complained.

One evening after seven, when we switched on the tv there was no transmission and the next day on investigating we found that it was cut by these morons who did not have the basic courtesy to inform us and we found the cable lying amidst the debris in their property. Our telephone lines have met with a similar fate half a dozen times.

A thing or two that perks us up while wading our way through all this nuisance - when the big boss’s group began to draw electricity stealthily from the neighbouring property and now there is a lot of friction going on between the two gangs…

Another unforgettable sight when we happened to peep from the window was these guys having their baths atop the sand hills pouring bucketsful of water over themselves……who knows…..this may make the foundation stronger…..And now we know all that goes into the making of a building…..Don’t know when we’re going to get the next breath of some fresher air with the pollution boom on…..    

I happened to see a program on TV, National Geographic Channel on a place called ALANG in India and though many may have seen it or know of the place and what it’s famous for, I was coming across this for the first time. I’d like to share the information with you.

Alang is a town in Bhavnagar, Gujarat, 50 kms south of Bhavnagar and it houses the world’s largest and leading ship breaking and recycling centers. It is on this ten Kilometre stretch that the ship yards are located in the Gulf of Khambat. For more information of the place please visit, www.wikipedia.org/Alang .

Now for the alarming and amazing facts that this industry revealed to the channel.

About 50% of the worlds’ ships are wrecked and recycled here. It takes six months to completely break down a ship. 2.5 million tons of steel are recycled annually, constituting 15% of our country’s production of steel. Approximately 350 ships are wrecked a year.

Tens of thousands of men, majority of youth are employed in this profession. The high tide variance in this area helps ships to cruise to the shore at high tide and work begins during low tide.

A Brazilian ship called Welma was brought ashore, weighing 9000 tons after thirty years of service and through the breaking process, the dangerous aspects of their work was explained.

A set of 5 cm thick steel ropes are used to haul the ship into place. A tricky job here as one snap of any one of the steel ropes can back fire to the extent of cutting a body into two.

Before the actual breaking starts with the use of gas cutting torches that cut through the steel, a thorough fuel check is done. Contaminated fuel is emptied onto the beach and burnt. Clean fuel is sold.

Imagine the scene, if the gas cutters were used when there is any traces of fuel left. It will cause one helluva explosion. There are experienced guys like Patel who are given this job of ensuring that the fuel tanks are completely drained and dried out. His job is to also systematically check out for the presence of toxic deposits which are equally volatile.

The actual cutting starts and though no one receives any special training, experience has taught them to adopt a systematic approach.

Almost 99% material is reused. This is where the ladies come in to take their share of non steel stuff, mattresses and miscellaneous articles to be resold in a market nearby which was specially established for the purpose.

Cutting through the steel begins and the top portion of the ship is cut through. Once all the surrounding body is cut, they reach the main steel frame which is the toughest. As they work at the steel beams, precariously balancing atop the beams, a day’s work for one person who cuts a beam from one end to the other. One wrong move and it’s a straight 20m fall down, resulting in death.

No special clothing for them except their mining hats and they inhale the toxic fuel vapours all day long, the poisonous carbon monoxide fill their lungs. A health hazard to say the least.

A poor but unique work force who continue to go back there to work for their hunger and basic needs to be met, on an average a worker earns US Dollars.60.00 a month. (Rs.2400).

The more specialized workers like Patel receive Rs.5000.00.

For this salary, these men swear by their work not taking into consideration the health risks attached. On an average 400 of these men die every year, mostly accidents and some from cancer too. So many dead are brothers or fathers of the workers.

They share a common motto “Every day 1 ship, Every day 1 dead’. This is the condition of their existence and outside the shipping yards the place is the worst kind of slum dwelling. People live in the poorest of conditions in huts in a totally polluted environment. National Geographic claims that Alang is one of the most under-developed places in the world.

The broken steel plates are taken to a nearby steel mill where they are melted and re-rolled into steel rods. Even here the work is handled by more youth who are equipped with just a pair of glasses to protect their eyes and gloves and no masks or protective clothes as they continue to work at the smelters.

One ship building baron who visited the site is believed to have said that he knew what had to go into building the ships, but he never realized that such a systematic approach was required to break them. He was shocked that no formal training was imparted to them.

Well, that’s Alang for us and sadly the ways of life for 12000 or so of our population.

Isn’t it ironical, the largest and leading in terms of the Industry but the exact opposite in terms of the environment and living conditions.

My apologies if any of the figures or name of the ship is wrong as I tried to follow up as closely as I could.

woke up to the chirping of sparrows
from a night tossed in sweet sorrow
often the blinding pain paves the way
perceptions for many a brighter day

stood watching through the window
the call of the whispering willow
the majestic verdant hills at bay
reminiscent of many a good yesterday

beckoned, I am tempted to follow
the crisp breath of air to wallow
a spring in my step, make my way
the allure of nature has much to say

come to me with no thought of tomorrow
drink in my magic, your pain you swallow
my creations, a muse will make you gay
lessons to learn for a brighter day.

at the break of this fresh new dawn
my feet took me over beautiful hills
carpeted by lush green, dew topped grass
a cushioning for life from the spawn

as my eyes scanned the landscape
a mushroom of rocks spoke it’s own story
of inevitable obstacles that make or break
to veer or overcome, thus making our history

wild flowers adorning the edges, abound
nodded in brilliant display and said to me
we perched ourselves by these hard mounds
to lighten your spirits and set you free

the gentle slope of the tree specked hills
spoke of some tire, to be met with sojourns
as the dense woods beckon from beyond
leading me on to a few more frills

not for a moment made to feel small
by the sun dappled solemn pines
with the sweet wooded scent of pine corns
braving every season and standing tall

weaving my way through the trees
spoke of one’s journey through the maze
this way or that, but in measured steps
paths of discovery that wipe the haze

my walk led me on to a shimmering stream
the gentle ripple of water over rocks and pebbles
softly urges me on to follow my dreams
in pursuit of one’s life through nature’s calls.

Yet another leaf out of my childhood. It was a time when the rich agriculturists and land owners prided in owning a Plymouth car and the more affluent industrialists in my city considered it a status symbol to own old model Mercedeses. The days of Fiats and Ambassadors.

My father as GM in a reputed company was offered a car for his use and when we came to know of it, we were overjoyed and wondered whether it would be a second hand Fiat or Amby. 

One fine morning, the car was  brought to our house and much to our delight, there stood this beaut, of significant length and sleek, the white coloured 'Ford Falcon'.

Even overhearing my dad talk of fuel consumption and that it was handed down from the owners after much use didn't deter us one bit.

It was upholstered with a pale pink shiny material in a checked pattern which had a plastic feel and with grey beading in between, made for a hard and flat seat, contrary to the cushioned velvetty coverings we find today. It was for my dad's use except for a few rides we were allowed.

Came summer vacation and we were to be whisked off to neighbouring Ooty in the Falcon. All of us piled in, with dad behind the wheel and remember the smooth ride up to the ghat section. A definite flight of fantasy for me.

We continued uphiil quite comfortably till we hit the first hair-pin bend. The brakes had to be applied to bring the car to a stop as the gear rod slipped out of gear. My dad shifted to first gear and the engine had to be revved up to pursue the roll.

As he manouvered this piece of marvel through the winding roads and and hair-pin bends, the gear rod continued to give up on the falcon's might, time and again.

Somewhere mid way, he was pulled over to the side as smoke began to cover the wind-shield, a time for my dad to swear and for us, a welcome break in spite of some fear.

The radiator boil was put to rest by a can of water and through more slips and revs we finally reached our destination.

We were put up at a guest house, a wonderful little cottage supposed to have been built by a Czech couple who had sold the house and moved on.

Built on terraced land, there was plenty of space in front, the end  of level ground, sloped down to a road at the lower level, but clearly demarcated by a thick growth of trees.

My dad parked the car at one end near the slope and went in to make the necessary arrangements. We were running around in glee, the refreshing cold weather a delight, drinking in the sights of the wonderful flowers in the garden. 

All of a sudden, some movement caught my eye. To my horror, I saw the wonderful Falcon slowly making it's way to the slope. My screams brought dad and the staff out. By then the Falcon was half way down the slope and by the time the elders reached the spot, he had firmly positioned himself against the thicket of trees.

It took all of six men and lengthy rope to tow him up and had to secure him with stones behind the wheels. The gear had slipped to neutral again.

The problem could not be rectified and soon the Falcon was replaced by a more reliable Fiat and that saw the end of my Falcon Fantasy. 

Pensive thoughts, the journey a stimulation
seldom we find life without tribulation
some our own doings, largely with no ill intention
yet, a rude awakening, bringing forth contention.

The angst of the heart at the cause of deprivation
the mind closing shut for fear of trepidation
the ego peeping out for a means, a solution
the soul anointing balm for a self-reconciliation.

The healing begins with the analysis of the situation
beliefs and principles guiding the decision
fortitude and faith the basic foundation
enables life to continue being a fountain.

Let's live life in good spirits and with determination
take trials in our stride after good evaluation
smile through the adversities with a recognition
learning from our experiences and bring life to fruition.

I read Meena Sundar’s post on child employment, and Murali Dhanushkodi’s views on the subject and I wish to add my own ponderings over the issue. Thanks Meena.

I would like to bring into focus the scenario at Tirupur, a city renowned for its’ knit wear industry and produces even the costliest of branded t-shirts and sports wear.

Almost all International brands who source their wares from Tirupur have coined their own 1.Code of Conduct. 2. Social Responsibility and 3. Ethical Practises.

Top brands and most brands insist on the same being followed by the manufacturing companies and conduct various audits to ensure that the Government.rules are being followed by companies in India. Non-employment of child labour is one of the most important factors that they insist on. If the employees do not possess a date of birth certificate or school leaving certificate, a dentist is appointed to issue the age certificate as a study of the teeth is supposed to give a good indication of the age.

Tirupur houses a cluster industry, some who have all the processes that go into making a garment with various embellishments like embroidery, printing and others, apart from their in-house knitting, dyeing, processing and sewing facilities.

Some have a few in-house operations but invariably, right from raw material to the various finishes required are all out-sourced.

This means, we have, knitters, the processing units for various finishes, dyeing and printing, printers, embroiderers, and within the garment makers, job-working units, garment checking units, ironing centres, washing units.

In the manufacturing area- the lace makers, label makers, elastic producers, carton box, polythene bags and so on.

The list is endless, beginning with spinning mills producing hosiery yarn to the internationally nominated testing agencies. The larger companies have their various certifications of ISO and SA.(International standards and Social Awareness norms)

When an International company conducts an audit for an Indian manufacturing company, which they follow to the book, the audit is extended to the out-sourcing companies too in terms of the various processes that go into making of the garment.

The news that circled the industry and published in newspapers abroad, a few months back: An European International Garment major had not only cancelled the orders placed with one of the most reputed names in Tirupur but also imposed a huge fine because during their quality checks, they found one of the out-sourcing units of that reputed company, employing child labour. If this is the extent to which a reputed, socially aware, economically strong company can help to ensure compliance with all the units it works with, what will be the state of others who finally close their eyes to these issues over their own survival and success of their enterprise?

I can’t help being cynical at this point though I am not trying to include every business owner into this category.

We Indians fail to give the importance international companies pledge by.

The government is all out to encourage self employment and our country finds more tiny and small scale industries than any other.

Does the government have any system of rules that is mandatory for small business owners to follow? They have the entrepreneur development programs and I am not sure whether labour laws are inculcated into them.

I have heard that some developing countries do and it is not at all easy for one to set up their own.

Are the trades’ governing bodies or factory inspectors ensuring even to a small extent that these units are adhering to norms from inception rather than just conduct raids and ensure it is published in the news papers.

The dyeing industry in Tirupur and neighbouring area had faced a major challenge and most units were off work due to effluents discharged into water bodies. When this issue can be addressed to such an extent, why would not the government in terms of child labour and other sensitive issues?

Most Tirupur workers are from neighbouring towns and villages and states like Kerala. If one has to address their living conditions in a city which in spite of the burgeoning incomes and wealth, boasts of the worst infrastructure-roads, water supply, etc, one can write volumes on the lives of the Tirupur workers. Dozens shacked up in small holes for rooms, skipping meals, working over-time and yet they prod along with dreams of a better future round the corner. And among them I wonder how many are even of eligible for employment.

There are even agents who get about twenty or thirty workers under their thumb, rent out a dinghy old room, provide them with some basic food and make a buck, taking them to a factory. Few months in a place, he continues with the rotation to ensure his income through them. Bonded labour in the making.

If this is the case with an industry that is one of the top foreign exchange earners for our country then I am not very surprised with the match makers or beedi workers in Sattur and other areas.

The words of a HR Manager on one of his recruitment drives to a small town called Kovilpatti in Tamilnadu. “we drove through the night and reached this village, close to the town very early. Found the people up and about ready to go to work. By the time we got to speaking to the person who had contacted us for work, a lot of people gathered around, got to know we were there for finding skilled employees. Some of them, men and women alike, brought their girls of thirteen and sixteen years, begging us to take their girls along. All my explanations on child labour fell on deaf ears and some were pleading with tears in their eyes. The potential employees were questioning me about when we were leaving, so that they could go to work for another day, and give their day’s earnings home before they could come with us.” No work, no pay, no life for the masses! but may the children be spared...

the gentle breeze carresses the trees
the leaves in delightful shapes and hues
waltzing merrily to the wondrous tunes
the red earth rising in rhythm with fallen fronds
the sights take one to a world beyond
the blue sky darkens with thunderous clouds
the breeze transforms to winds of speed
the branches step up their tempo to a sway
the sweet scent of the earth alas makes way
the clouds burst out in a torrent of rain
the red earth kissed, the merge, a splendid display
rain washed trees persist with their dance
the play of rain and wind holds one in a trance.

As kids we gave her the name Lachi. She was a petite woman who would hardly reach up to my shoulders now and two things I can never forget about her are her cute dimples, which grew cuter when she lost all her teeth and her chuckle. That was the only way she knew to laugh. She wasn’t older than my mother, but she had those traditionally pierced ear lobes, the size of a coin, and chunky red stone- embedded studs that lengthened her lobes by more than an inch and her right arm tattooed in a beautiful rangoli design.

She joined our house-hold as a help to my mother, we were not to call her ayya as my mom had too much pride in bringing up her lot, a handful to reckon with. It was at my dad’s insistence that she agreed to take in Lachi to manage us. Well, what could my mother do single handedly, when the wails started from one and caught on to the others, I doubt if it was possible for one person to push feeding bottles in and pacify three or four at a time.

We found ourselves seeking Lachi’s company and she entertained us with stories, especially of a haunted house and her experience with ghosts and her fun-filled silly games. She must have lost most of her teeth then itself, as she couldn’t chew her paan and my mother had given her my grand mother’s paan mixer. All of us confided in her and went to her most of the time to reveal our mistakes, but she would take us to mom and break the news immediately. Not once do I remember her encouraging us to lie or hide the truth from my parents. We had a lot of affection for her.

She was widowed quite early in life. She had one daughter whom she brought up by herself, married her off and was quite comfortable living with us. She had a nephew, Shankaran, on whom she showered more affection than her own daughter and it so no surprise that it was her ambition to get her eldest grand daughter, Mallika married to him . Her aspirations materialized and the couple settled somewhere near Bangalore. It was only then she showed any interest in taking a break to stay with them for at least a month annually.

A year after their marriage, Lachi’s position was elevated to that of great grand mother and it was after her visit that she broke the news to us. She had discovered Shankaran was having an affair with another woman and the lady too was pregnant and expecting her first child. Words cannot describe the pain and turmoil she went through and was heart-broken for her Mallika. A couple of years later Shankaran married the other lady also and managed to have three children out of each marriage. He began drinking and according to Lachi, he was not only spending more time with the second family but also gave majority of his earnings to them. Our advice in the initial stages, consolation and whatever else we offered fell on deaf ears and Lachi continued with her laments and sobs.

Few years down the line, she seemed to take it all in her stride, and chose to live with Shankaran and Mallika on retirement. During her visits, she continued to complain about Shankaran and curse his second wife but said she felt more at peace since she was by Mallika’s side.

During her last visit, two years back, I found her talking favorably about Shankaran’s second wife and complained that Mallika should have been smarter to keep her husband to herself. The second wife had invited Lachi home and though the sisters’-in-marriage never spoke to each other she was a go between and so she rambled on with her stories. Just before leaving she gave me her new telephone and mobile number and broke the news that she had moved from Mallika’s to Shankaran’s second home which was spacious, more comfortable and had rooms upstairs to accommodate guests.

I was shocked and speechless. I could only manage to question her as to what Mallika would do and she retorted that the donkey will never learn and this was accompanied by her familiar chuckle. Said she visited her grand daughter Mallika once in awhile.

I was made to wonder how Lachi’s values and priorities had changed; she even looked ten years younger with new jewelry adorning her neck and ears. She seemed happier. I was sad with my discovery of the ‘new-Lachi’, who I feel, had misplaced her values for more comfort. Yet, she continues to have a place in my heart.

In my previous post ‘Divine Intervention’ I had mentioned about the ‘divine prasna’, a system of astrology conducted for temples. Some of the ilanders evinced interest in this form of astrology and I have here a post for them. I wish to state that I have merely strived to touch on the basics as a layman, with some interest in the subject. To enhance the little knowledge I had on the subject, I have referred books and webpages and taken relevant information from them.

The divine prasna is called the ashtamangala deva prasna (ADP) and before I venture into throwing light on the same, I would like to explain the basics from which this has been derived.

The ADP draws its roots from the system of vedic astrology called Prasna. Prasna is horary astrology followed widely in Kerala and is the most important part of the three divisions of astrological science, the other two being Jataka (predictive astrology using natal charts) and muhurta (electional astrology)

The Prasna is a system of answering a question by calculating a chart for the moment of the question. This horoscope set for that moment forms the basis on which prediction is made. So the time when the question is put forth is the birth of the intention, in the mind of the person querying and this bears great significance. Small conch shells (about 1 cm length), also called cowry shells are used for the purpose of divination in conjunction with the position of the planets at that point in time. A system exists for this too. The south Indian natal chart in regular square form is used for the purpose.

Comparison to Predictive astrology: In comparison to predictive astrology using the natal charts,(followed by the majority of astrologers across the country) this science requires a thorough knowledge of the principles set out in the texts “Prasna Marga”, extensive training, a high degree of intelligence, great powers of observation and keen intuition stemming from spiritual practices in order to succed in this system of divination.

If the natal chart prediction offers predictions using a wide angle lens, where in one can get the full view but cannot see the details, then Prasna serves to give a close up shot of a specific planetary period or an area in one’s life by focusing on one question at a specific point.

The Ashtamangala Deva Prasna: an extensive and intensive study of the Prasna, with a lot of emphasis given to omens (nimittams) is this stream of astrological science.

Lets say, officials of a temple are interested in having the temple reestablished to its original form and need to seek guidance of the astrologers who use this system of divination.

The process begins when the officials, priests of the temple invite the astrologer with auspicious items as offerings(fruits, betel leaves and nuts and token cash). The time of invitation and the exact words used by the official is recorded as the initial omens and the date for conducting the ADP at the temple is given to the officials.

A minimum of three astrologers usually attend to an ADP.

The derivations are made from a set of omens beginning above to when it is conducted.

Ashta is eight and mangala is auspicious offerings, so the following eight offerings are considered for study of the omens:

The flame of the brass lamps with clarified butter and wicks, milk, yoghurt, fruits, books(holy texts), mirror, gold and a white cloth. Apart from this betel leaves in the offering are also studied for their shape, size and defects.

The ghee lamp is used for worship of the deity, a temple priest of kerala conducts the necessary poojas, invoking Gods (Lord Shiva or Lord Krishna as presiding deity) in the place nominated for the study (this I suppose gives meaning to the divine presence at the time of study). The main official of the temple is called upon to use powdered raw rice to draw the borders for the natal chart (the south Indian square) and how he draws is noted. The chart is completed by the astrologers.

A child of seven to eight years, already notified in advance is called upon by the astrologers, requested to pray, and a gold pellet with flowers, chandan, holy water is given to her. She’s to circle the square and asked to place it in one of the boxes in the chart. This becomes the lagna, the ascendant to the horoscope.

Using the cleaned and sanctified conch shells (in fresh cow’s milk), the divination as per system is done and the planetary position is worked out and the horoscope for the moment in time is set. The astrologers sit together and work out the necessary calculations along with the assessments drawn from the omens observed and ready for their predictions.

Well, I am no astrologer to know how they come to the predictions, but would like to share a true episode.

The temple of Lord Vishnu, in reclining form in Srirangam,Trichy, the statue is believed to have been offered as a boon to Ravana’s brother Vibeeshna in the Ramayana. Legend goes that he was taking the statue across to Sri Lanka and unable to bear the weight set it down in the river cauvery. When trying to lift it up, the statue wouldn’t budge and he was grieved. The Lord appeared and told him that he would remain in the same position and would watch over his country from here and in time a temple will be built in Sri Lanka too.

Going a bit off –track, what I came to say was, when the ADP was conducted in this temple, the priests threw such tantrums and were forced to attend and began verbally attacking the astrologers. The predictions began and the first thing that the main astrologer claimed was that the presiding Lord of the temple was experiencing acute pain in His waistline. In answer to the laughter from the priests, he advised them to go to the deity right away and examine the region, claiming that the area was gnawed by rats and if not true then the proceedings would be stopped.

The priests confidently strode on and to their shock, on viewing the waist line of the deity on the back side, they did not just find the gnawed portion but half a dozen mice housed in the area. The priests were humbled, begged for forgiveness and The ADP was conducted successfully and all findings were regarded and necessary rectifications were done.

I hope i have given some idea of what the 'divine prasna' is, to ilanders who wished to have information on it.