#Thread - My gratitude to @rupamurthy1 for originally narrating it. It is her narrative which am privileged to share.
The king of Mysore, Krishna Raja Wodeyar IV and Sir M. Vishweswariah were in a pensive mood. They had reached a dead-end.
The proposed KRS dam was 6 months away from completion and they had run out of money. Just 8 months ago, the king had mortgaged his family jewels to king of Benaras (now called Varanasi – the oldest inhabited city in the world).
The queen has given her favourite necklaces and family heirlooms for the project. But eventually, that too ran out in mounting labour and construction costs.
According to human psyche, they say, when we are cornered and have nowhere to go, a sudden and un-expected courage takes over our very being. A man thus subjected will pull off all odds in a sortie mainly because he has nothing to lose.
Sir MV had an impractical idea, but wanted to attempt.
That morning, he sent out messages to all village headmen that he wanted to meet them in a village near Mandya the next day at 4 pm. The royal messengers rushed out to village after village delivering the important missive.
The agenda was not mentioned. Sir MV expected at the most 5 to 10 village headmen would come to the meeting due to short notice.
Next day, they reached the meeting at 3:50 pm. There were more than 500 people, village elders and younger crowd included.
All wanted to hear the great engineer who was building this huge lifeline. There was another man walking with Sir MV. The crowd gasped. For most of them had never seen the king up so close.
The king was a genteel, but education had taught him humility. He walked amongst the crowd, spoke to them as a commoner, mingled and finally took up the stage.
He spoke. From the heart. In their language. He did not hide anything. He said that he needed help. And asked the villagers if they would work for free for 4 weeks until he found out a solution.
He told them that he was thinking of mortgaging one of palaces. Here was a king who was like them, without money and was about to mortgage his house. “Just like us” they thought.
But what touched them most were his vulnerability and simplicity. The king had connected. The effect was electrifying.
However, no one responded. A month of free work meant depleted savings for some, and for others, starvation.
Next morning at 6:30 am Sir MV met the king and they commenced discussing mortgaging the palace when the king’s secretary suddenly rushed inside. He exclaimed “You got to see this.” Everyone hurriedly went to the palace balcony. The sight was one to behold.
First they saw a few, then hundreds and then thousands. Wave after wave of people were streaming into the palace courtyard. Farmers, teachers, cart-drivers, old men, women-many with toddlers, people of all sort & sizes came to do their tiny bit to complete the dream that was KRS.
The king, queen, courtiers and Sir MV watched the spectacle with unbelievable eyes. With moistened eyes, the king held out his hand and placed it on his heart – a gesture of deepest gratitude. Even the non-emotional Sir MV was moved.
The people of Mysore would not care if they were not paid, but they would complete the dam braving whatever odds that came their way.
KRS stands proudly as a testament to a humble king, brilliant engineer and the toil of thousands of men and women who made it an architectural wonder that it is.
But above all, it is a symbolic representation of a miracle that can be achieved if your heart is pure and intentions are well.
The sophisticated canal system from KRS to Shivana Samudra has enabled mother earth to deck herself in lushest of green. This area is called the green gold of Karnataka. @GunduHuDuGa
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I would like to share a write up by my friend Balachandran's old FB post. This is a translated work and the translation is just outstanding and Bala has a way with words as one realized while reading the post.
The following text is from a work by Vallathol Narayana Menon, one of Malayalam's Maha Kavis (Great Poets) who was himself part of the famous Triumvirate of modern Malayalam poetry along with Kumaran Asan and Ulloor Parameswara Iyer.
The whole poem is called Oushadha Apaharanam (Oushadha means medicine and apaharanam means the same as apaharan or stealing)
#JustSaying On this platform, I express my views on few topics. Current affairs, a mix of politics and economics, humor, birding and tech.
What I look for is handles, who write well, not abusive. There are times when I ignore or not able to view and respond to tweets because of the sheer volume of info that needs to be processed.
Number of followers is not a criterion at all. There are handles that I follow just for learning - it could be about a subject that I want to be aware of but I know nothing about, it could be the way one communicates and so on.
Got drawn into Birding as a hobby about 3 to 4 years back. Since then I have been observed close to 200 species - mostly in M.P., some in Assam and few in Bhutan. #birds teach us the virtues of patience, ability to not just see, but actually observe the minute differences.
Birds within a species are different due to various reasons. It could be plumage - the colour of the plumage changes when they breed for e.g. Or for that matter the toes colour could be different. Sometimes, one identifies based on the colour of the beak and the toes combined!
Then there are birds of prey - Eagles, Ospreys, Kites, Kestrels, Buzzards. They look very similar from distance but then as we start observing them, we start noticing the minor differences.
The Late Lal Bahadur Shastri, was also born on Oct. 2, in the year 1904 ( does anyone remember any centenery celebrations ??). However, he seems to have been given one of the shortest shrifts.
Born in the year 1904 in Mughalsarai, United Provinces, British India as Lal Bahadur Srivastava.
His father Sharada Prasad was a poor school teacher, who later became a clerk in the Revenue Office at Allahabad.
When Lal Bahadur was three months old, he slipped out of his mother's arms into a cowherd's basket at the ghats of the Ganges.
The cowherd, who had no children, took the child as a gift from God and took him home.
There is a factory in Northern Minnesota which makes the Tickle Me Elmo toys. The toy laughs when you tickle it under the arms.
This is a true story about a new employee Lena who was hired at The Tickle Me Elmo factory, after she clocks in for her first day on the job promptly at 8:00 am
That same day at 8:45 am, there is a knock at the Personnel Manager's door. The Foreman throws open the door and begins to rant about the new Employee.
He complains that she is incredibly slow and the whole line is backing up, putting the entire production line behind schedule.
#AirlineTicketRefund
I hope that the SC delivers a stinging verdict against the GoI, especially @MoCA_GoI@DGCAIndia for its dubious stand on refund on cancellation of tickets booked prior to lockdown. Utterly pathetic ministry which probably is cosying upto the Airlines lobby.
Civil Aviation ministry forgets that it is not independent of a large stakeholders - the voters.