Land of Lime

‘In God’s eye, every being has a purpose and use.’

‘Is it possible for all human beings to receive the same education and to work at the same job?’

‘If you have money and power, why do you need the assistance of anyone? It is enough if you just get those!’

Made in 1966, Sandhyaraga (literally, evening raga) based on a novel of the same name by A. N. Krishnarao, a prominent Pragatishila (progressive) writer, raises important questions about learning, conduct and the nature of worldly success. The film is about two brothers, Ramu, a lawyer and Lakshmana, a singer and their contrasting attitudes towards family, life and worldly accomplishments.

The elder brother, Ramu, is studious, abrasive, ambitious and short tempered, who doesn’t treat his own family members with love and dignity; after studying in Bangalore and Pune, he becomes a lawyer, consumed by a desire to make money by any means and earn worldly recognition. The younger son, Lakshmana, a gifted but untrained singer, is committed to achieve excellence as a musician. But once Ramu becomes the head of the household, he throws out his sister and brother-in-law and refuses to help Lakshana, when his wife is on her deathbed. After her death, Lakshmana leaves home, trains with Krishna Aiyar in Tanjavur and becomes a great singer, acquiring fame and wealth. On the other hand, Ramu is embroiled in numerous corruption scandals and is close to losing his job. He then realizes that ill-gotten wealth and power will not ensure family support; Lakshmana’s accomplishments offer an alternative that Ramu never recognized.

As I noted earlier, the film poses two contrasting attitudes about family and society, accomplishment and worldly recognition. It begins with the parents, Srinivasa Rao and Minakshi, teaching through personal example generosity, compassion and capacity to appreciate good quality in all. They offered refuge to poor students and in fact, gave their only daughter in marriage to one such student, Venkatesh, even though he wasn’t likely to become a worldly success like Ramu. But Venkatesh was a person of dignity and self-respect, one who helped all and treated elders and family members with respect; Srinivasa Rao and Minakshi valued those qualities. Both Venkatesh (who after leaving hom becomes a successful journalist) and Lakshmana follow their example, and try to keep the family together in the face of Ramu’s greed and selfishness.

Ramu, in contrast, believes in hierarchy and maintains distance from lower classes. He belittles Lakshmana’s quest to become a musician and constantly interrupts his practice. Not only does he make disparaging remarks against Lakshmana and question the value of his music (’How will I benefit if he becomes a great singer’), he even refuses to share ancestral property with him. He says:‘what do you have other than tambura and a jolige (begging bowl) and when that is the case, why should you have a wife when you cannot earn your own bread?’ Ironically, his greed and single-minded quesst for money and power is quite similar to Lakshmana’s single minded pursuit of music. However, end results are dramatically different, with one achieveing great worldly success and the other barely escaping jail.

Music is the mainstay of the film, with great classical singers of the era such as Balamurali Krishna and Bhimsen Joshi performing as playback singers. The film begins with a song extolling the music found in the nature itself; sitting beside a waterfall, Rajkumar sings on the rhythm he witnesses:

There is music in this sound.
In this wind, voice arises
In every wave, there is rhythm.

There is a purity to the acquisition and practice of music: his teacher, Krishna Aiyar (who incidentally agrees to teach Lakshamana only after listening to him sing) too asks of his disciple to keep his craft pure and not refuse any invitation. The film also highlights Lakshmana’s pursuit and the dedication required to achieve greatness along with the support of the family and friends. Jaya, the ever supportive wife of Lakshmana characterizes his music as the product of the union of their souls. She buys him a new tambura by selling her jewels when Ramu breaks the old one and pleads with the latter to allow her husband to practice music in the outhouse. On her deathbed she asks her husband to sing purvikalyana raga, which he hopes would save her. When his music failed him, Lakshmana refuses to sing this raga, until the end, when under immense pressure from his audience, he sings purvikalayana perfectly and as he concludes, he passes away.

Sandhyaraga also brings in the politics of language into the film. Novelist A. N. Krishnarao himself participated in Kannada movements and his cultural politics is fairly obvious. Lakshamana sets as his goal the singing of Kannada devotional songs (kirtanas and vacanas) in both Hindustani and Karnatic styles. Kannada, which wasn’t used until recently in classical music, now includes compositions of great Vaishnava bhakti poets such as Purandara Dasa. While recognizing the worth and accomplishments of a musician (in relation to the success of a lawyer) is one of the objectives of the film, and while songs play a key role, music doesn’t overwhelm the film itself. As I suggested earlier, the music of the land (Karnataka) is also in harmony with the sounds of the land itself.

A combination of music and humanism produces a lovely, simple lyrical film.

One should also note a surprising absence of great lines and dialogue, which constitute the hallmark of all Rajkumar films. There are very few lines or even songs which stay in our mind.

Cast: Dr. Rajkumar, Bharati, Ashwath, Pandaribai, Uday Kumar, Narasimha Raju.

Dialogue and film story: Narendra Babu and Bhagavan.

Songs: G. V. Aiyar and Jayagopal.

Singers: Bhimsen Joshi, P. B. Srinivas, Balamurali Krishna and S. Janaki.

Music: G. K. Venkatesh and Balamurali Krishna

Direction: A. C. Narasimhamurthi and Bhagavan

What’s up with politicians and pilgrimages? or with homa and havana performances? How will gods themselves weigh in on the value of rituals performed by various politicians? While you and I may remain clueless on these matters, our leaders aren’t.

Now that the political crisis in Bangalore seems to be ebbing, the protagonists of the farce have set out on pilgrimages, to appease gods. Former Prime Minister H D Deve Gowda had already rued his karma from his past life and to make peace with gods, he is visiting Kanchi, Kalahasti and Tirupati.

However, the person who seems to be in greater trouble is his son and Chief Minister designate, H. K. Kumaraswamy. So he is in Tirunallar, worshiping at the only Sani (Saturn) temple. In Indian astrology, Sani, a malefic and arrogant god, is worksiped out of fear, since his blessings are overwhelming and his wrath cause of untold misery. Kumaraswamy would want to ensure Sani is on his side, if only to counteract the other human ’sanis’, who are already supporting him. At Tirunallar, it is said, King Nala, who under the influence of Sani lost his kingdom and wife, worshiped Siva and obtained total relief. We wouldn’t expect Kumaraswamy government to create a Nalarajya even though BJP is present of the coalition. Still we can only hope that all these pilgrimages and rituals would be efficiacious.

Earlier, Janata Dal (S) MLAs had begun their sacred journey to power, in the sunny beach resorts of Goa, before heading home via Gokarna, Kollura, Dharmasthala and many other temple towns, where they offered prayers. Sure, gods granted them victory a few days later. Reconnecting with gods is important if the prize is a ministership.

In comparison, the children of God’s own party, BJP MLAs have been comparatively low key. Their leader was found seeking blessings of the all powerful Lingayat guru, Sri Desikendra Swami of the Suttur Math. Given their unexpected good fortune, they don’t need to pray to gods for a while.

Bangalore is in the news again, as usual for all the wrong reasons.

An unusual constitutional crisis precipitated today, when Chief Minister Dharam Singh couldn’t and wouldn’t’ seek a vote of confidence to prove his majority and retain the reigns of power, before the deadline of January 27th set by the Governor T. N. Chaturvedi.

With the shameful conduct of all, especially of those sore losers from Congress, the recent political events in Karnataka have reached a climax of sorts. The Congress leaders and their allies deliberately prevented their own Chief Minister from seeking vote of confidence (which he was sure to lose) in the well (the space in front of the first row of seats) of the legislative assembly. The Governor has sought legal opinion but he has no option other than dismissing the present government, which anyway has lost majority support. When the Kumaraswamy led JD-BJP takes office on February 3rd, we can speculate on what it means for Karnataka and in general, for Indian politics too, since this would be the first step for BJP to gain legitimacy and a seat at the table in a South Indian state.

Clearly, Congress did not anticipate such a crisis and even when Janata Dal (S) leaders recently began openly negotiateing with BJP to form a new government, their reaction wasn’t swift; a Kannada daily commented that ‘Congress began digging a well after the fire started’. This political (self) suicide, as my friend Girish would say, began with a systematic effort by Congress to poach JD (S) MLAs (the latter is Congress’s coalition partner, let us remember), a legitimate political though morally dubious exercise. Even as all this unfolded, the Congress central leadership did not want to meet with JD (S) Supremo, ‘perennial’ complainer and former Prime Minister H. D. Deve Gowda, causing him to lose all influence he once had with his own followers. Anyway, regardless of what happened and what might happen in the next week, there is much to lament.

So what shall we lament today?

Constitutional break down in Karnataka, now that our Chief Minister wouldn’t seek a vote of confidence as mandated by the Governnor, thanks to the machinations of his own party members!

Or the ‘faltu’ technical objections Congress leaders and their allies raised about the recognition of Kumaraswamy as the new JD (S) legislative party leader, when it is clear to anybody with common sense that he has the support of over 75% of legislators? The man has also the support of 135 ‘freaking’ MLAs, when the majority required is just 113 to form the government. I am not a fan of the guy but let him get his due.

Or the break down of civility and probity in public life, where anything goes and those in public life aren’t required to or even expected to state why they seek public trust and public office! If I have any objections to a Kumaraswamy government, it is just that I don’t know what the guy stands for! He has never told me why I should care about his political vision and public policy (if he has one), nor has he made a compelling case for the kind of soceity we should strive for.

Or the classic middle class concerns - crumpling infrastructure, bankrupt public policy, mediocre education system that is geared towards producing (technical and medical) clerks and so on and so forth!

Or our own lack of commitment to probity in public life, to insist and demand that our leaders and representatives be more responsibile!

or Deve Gowda’s karma, as the former Prime Minister himself did, to explain the events of the past week! Some sin he committed in previous life has unleashed this new government on us, poor Kannadigas. His staunch followers, led by his own son, refused to listen to him, their supreme leader. What did we all do in our past lives, to deserve any of this?

Or an ‘unentertaining’ blame game, which has begun in earnest. Congress Central leadership has blamed Deve Gowda for not controlling his flock. State Congress leadership seems to want to blame the Governor and the Speaker of the Assembly; so the MLAs barged into into the well of the Assembly, not allowing the Speaker to conduct the proceedings, once he recognized Kumaraswamy as the new leader of JD (S) legislative party. Kumaraswamy and his friends blame Congress and its allies for trying to break their party, for treating them with dignity etc.

Personally, I shall lament the denoument of Deve Gowda’s political career, not because it is ending. All things - good or bad - must end and Deve Gowda has had a fantastic career. But I am sad because once Deve Gowda is gone, the Indian Express will not have anybody to blame for the ills of Bangalore. Today it has taken what I hope will be the final potshot at him. In that spirit, here is a memo to Shekhar Gupta and his editorial team: Despair not. If you like someone else to blame as you continue to lick the boots of IT captains, we will offer you an army of volunteers.

Last week, in Raghavanka -1, I wrote about Harihara’s criticism of his nephew Raghavanka, when the latter presented his first epic poem, Hariscandra kavya; Harihara believed that poetry should be written on Siva and his men, not on mortal kings. Moreover, Harihara, I suggested, may also have been offended by Raghavanka’s ambitions and quest for wordly recognition. Today, I will chronicle narratives on Raghavanka’s life, which offer more evidence about how Raghavanka’s poetic sensibilities and attitudes towards worldly recognotion evolved.

Brief accounts of Raghavanka’s life, his visits to the Kakatiya court at Warangal and the Hoysala court in Dorasamudra are available to us from many literary texts: Kumara Padmarasa’s Sanandacarite (c 1360), Padmananka’s Padmarajapurana (c 1430), Santalingadesika’s Bhairavesvarakavyada kathasutraratnakara (c 1675) and Basavalinga’s Basavapurana Kathasagara (c 1650). Perhaps the most detailed account is provided by Siddhananjesa, who wrote Raghavanka Caritra (c 1680). Siddhananjesa appears to be a Raghavanka acolyte and has written kavyas (including Hariscandrakavya) on all the themes that the latter himself wrote.

Siddhananjesa and other poets describe Raghavanka’s childhood as well as his fight with his uncle, which I narrated in an earlier posting. Afterwards, Harihara apparently once again narrated to Raghavanka the discourses and practices of Saivas. Henceforth, Raghavanka wrote on the lives of devotees of Siva and gained fame widely, earning the title Kavisharabhabherunda. However, unlike Harihara, Raghavanka actively sought recognition for his poetic achievements; whereas his uncle chose to remain in the company of his favorite god, Pampapati of Hampe, Raghavanka traveled far and wide, to the courts of kings to defeat non-saiva poets or to recite his own poem. This contrast in attitude towards worldly recognition isn’t insignificant.

Let us focus on two events from Raghavanka’s life. A Saiva Jangama (wandering ascetic) once arrived at the house of Hoysala minister Padmarasa and began reading Raghavanka’s Siddharamacaritra, a kavya on the life of the 12th century vacana composer and philanthrophist, Siddharama. When he began reading a verse in which Raghavanka had described Sonnalige as Kailasa (which is Siva’s abode in the Himalayas) on earth, Siddharama’s associates as ganas of Siva and Siddharama as Siva himself, Padmarasa stopped the Jangama and characterized that description as improper. An offended Jangama reported this objection to Raghavanka, who rushed to Dorasamudra to defend himself. Little did he realize that Padmarasa had deliberately provoked the Jangama to ensure Raghavanka’s visit; the latter was pleasantly surprised with the grand reception upon his arrival in Dorasamudra and spent many months in the company of Padmarasa, who himself was an accomplished Virasaiva theologian and author. Padmarasa wrote one of the earliest texts on initiation - Diksabodhe (the teaching of initiation) – to initiate a Vaisnava Brahmin scholar from the Andhra region, Tribhuvanatata, who came to Dorasamudra, the Hoysala capital and challenged Saivas to a debate. After he was defeated in the debate by Padmarasa, Tribhuvanatata as per a prior agreement became a Saiva. It is believed that Raghavanka too was present at this debate and assisted Padmarasa.

Even this incident illustrates Raghavanka’s pride, impatience and lack of judgment. He clearly hadn’t internalized his uncle’s equanimity as well as detachment. As we see in the next episode as well, Raghavanka was easily provoked and in his eagerness to establish the supremacy of Saiva devotees, he often acted hastily. Once he was invited by Chatura kavi to visit Prataparudrara, the Kakatiya king of Warangal in the Telugu speaking Telangana region. Chatura wanted Raghavanka to defeat three poets who were in the Kakatiya court and who would through trickery condemn all visiting poets. The three poets, Ekasandhigrahi, Dvisandhigrahi and Trisandhigrahi, had one strength: memory. When a visiting poet would recite his poem, Ekasandhigrahi would recite it back and claim that poem to be his composition. His two fellow poets would recite the poem again and support Ekasandhigrahi by claiming that they had heard the poem before. Chatura appeals to Raghavanka’s competitive spirit and takes him to Warangal to take on these poets. Before entering the city, Raghavanka went to the Virabhadra temple and composed Viresa carite; King Prataparudra, it is said, witnessed this event, prompted by god Virabhadra himself. When Raghavanka recited the poem in the court the next day, the three poets couldn’t instantly memorize due to its complicated metrical structure and repeat it. King Prataparudra then felicitated Raghavanka and 107 other poets with gold, cloth and other gifts. Now, a mature Raghavanka refused to accept these gifts, by saying ‘they aren’t appropriate for devotees of Siva’. But his aggressive desire to establish Saiva supremacy caused trouble to him; a Jangama, hired by the three poets, stabbed Raghavanka when he was returning to Hampi. A severely injured Raghavanka returned to Hampi and as per his uncle’s orders, traveled to Dorasamudra, where he dies.

Thus ends the life of one of the most important Kannada poets. I am reading Hariscandra kavya now and the life of the poet has been on my mind. For reasons that I outlined earlier, this period, especially the poetry of Harihara and Raghavanka, is a critical moment in Kannada literary history. A posting on Harihara himself would further clarify the key innovations that occurred in early 13th century, both in terms of new forms as well as the new subject matter of poetry. But the legends associated with these poets often provide key insights into literary culture and my intention here has been to recuperate such insights.

1. The film, Mayura, contains reflections on the conduct of human beings and kings, which hold some relevance for the present. From the dialogue at the Pallava court which I quoted extensively, let me reproduce two excerpts.

Question: who is a knowledgeable (wise) man?
Mayura: one who can consider all women as mothers, wealth that doesn’t belong to him as mud, all beings as oneself!

Jnani, the term used in Kannada, invokes both knowledge and wisdom. Let us ask ourselves about the three factors referred to here to define jnana (knowledge). Note that greed and covetousness aren’t being addressed here. Mayura doesn’t merely reject coveting what doesn’t belong to him; rather he offers an alternative ideal wherein all women are accorded the respect and love that his own mother deserves. I should point out that in colloquial Kannada, often avva (mother) is used by even old men while addressing young girls. Similarly, wealth and fortune ought to be earned by one’s own effort. When we consider these two factors along with the third - one’s capacity to consider the welfare of all beings (jiva) as that of one’s own - we arrive at radical redefinition of the self that the film offers. Included in the middle of testing Mayura’s character, wisdom and judgment to be a king, this line jumps out and attracts our attention. What also needs to be noted is that legends on exemplary historical heroes such as Kumara Rama (early 14th century who ruled Vijayanagar region just before the establishment of Vijayanagar in 1336 AD) , Krishnadevaraya (1509-1529 AD, King of Vijayanagar) and Ranadhira Kanthirava (18th century ruler of Mysore) are associated with such values. Not surprisingly, Rajkumar has made movies on all these historical heroes.

If above the line refers to all human beings, then the next excerpt refers to the conduct of kings specifically:

Question: for the king, who is like a father to his subjects, who are the relatives?
Mayura: Truth, knowledge, compassion, dharma, and forgiveness.

A king isn’t moved by personal considerations. He ought to recognize honest and loyal followers, as Mayura’s wrestling guru Ranga Jetti asserts in one of the early scenes. This sentiment isn’t relevant merely in a historical context but more so in the contemporary era (which is the main reason for a restatement of this ideal in the film) as an ideal for those who seek public office and trust.

2. If these are the ideals for individuals, the film also seeks to define values associated with Kannadigas collectively, and use Mayura as the ’spokesman’. Here the goal is to depict Kannadigas as peaceful, non-violent, tolerant and freedom loving people. Mayura (and Kadambas) have picked up the sword to establish freedom, to establish dharma (justice), and to liberate the Kannada land, which is being ruled by Pallavas. Yet, Mayura’s goal, as he tells Pallava princess Premavati, is to win his kingdom back without bloodshed. He obviously doesn’t want his future queen to share his fortunes and rule over a kingdom, which has been conquered by killing her father and brothers. He doesn’t harbor hatred towards the Pallavas, which is what the film stresses repeatedly; Pallavas aren’t depicted as evil people. The Pallava crown prince and princess Premavati both appreciate Mayura’s bravery and character. It is only Vishnugopa who embodies the Pallava greed, deceit and oppressiveness, and it is his heart that needs to be transformed. As Mayura tells him at the end, when Vishnugopa tries to kill himself: “What needs to die is not you but the hatred and anger in your heart. ”

The film also stresses on Mayura’s pride and independent spirit. Note that Mayura stands for all Kannadigas. He repeatedly states: “In my arms, I possess god-given strength and in my waist, I wear a sword given by the Pallava crown prince.” He refuses to be a commonder, feudatory or a minister of Pallavas, when the crown prince offers him all these positions. He often expresses a desire to live independently and speaks of the bravery, adventurous spirit and pride of Kannadigas, which will remain constant as long as sun and moon exist.

3. The film also raises a bigger question concerning historical memory and its use in contemporary period. What do we choose to remember about our own past? This is a question I would like to return to once I have reviewed a few more historical films. However, I should note that the quiet confidence that Mayura displays, and the emphasis placed especially on the values associated with Kannadigas is such a contrast to the anxiety and dispair that the Kannada activists appear to embody today. If the movie seeks to reinforce a value or offer a lesson for the present, it is that quiet confidence in one’s culture, values and dignity.

4. Finally some random notes on the history of Kadambas, who as I noted earlier, are the first Kannada dynasty. We know of human habitation from the Neolithic period onwards in the Kannada speaking regions, but the earliest written records known to us come from the Mauryan period (third century BC), in the form of Asokan inscription at Brahmagiri. However, for the period prior to the 4th century, before the Ganga and Kadamba kingdoms were established, we do not have any details about political organization, even about Mauryan or Satavahana feudatories.

With regard to the founding of the Kadamba dynasty itself, two later branches of Kadambas who ruled at Hanagal (north Karnataka, Dharwar district) and Goa, provide in their inscriptions from 11th and 12th centuries, stories about the founding of the kingdom. We do not know with any certainty the relationship of these later Kadamba families to the early Kadambas of Banavasi. The three variants of one such story offer three foundation myths. According to the first version, Trilochana Kadamba, the founder, was born of a drop of sweat from Siva’s forehead after he had killed Tripurasura. The second story has Siva and Parvati at a picnic in the western ghats, where Parvati gave birth to Kadamba, under the Kadamba tree. The third story calls Mayuravarma ‘Mukkanna (one with three eyes) Kadamba’, since he had a third eye in his forehead and therefore even his crown had to be put to his ankle.

Now as I put my historian’s hat back, let me note that Mayura Sharma is perhaps the founder of the dynasty, as referred to in the early Kadamba inscriptions themselves. Talagunda inscription of Kakusthavarma (435-455 AD and perhaps the most important Kadamba ruler) refers to the incidents in Kanchi and the subsequent conflict with the Pallavas. As the inscription itself states dramatically: ” with the hand dexterous in grasping the Kusa grass, the fuel and the stones, the ladle, the melted butter and the oblation vessel, unsheathed a flaming sword, eager to conquer the Earth.”

Still it is not the historical accuracy of the event or Mayura’s life that attracts our attention. Rather, a contemporary representation and the moral as well as political significance of it.

It is quite depressing to write about the Faisalabad test match; in fact, about the series itself. If yesterday (January 24th) was the most depressing day of the year, apparently today is the national compliment day. So I can not and will not abuse anybody.

Yet, consider these numbers. In the two test matches, Pakistan has made 1767 runs losing 25 wickets in the process, with each wicket costing Indian bowlers an average of 70.68 runs. India has scored 1034 runs for the loss of 11 wickets, scoring on an average of 94 runs per wicket. I don’t even want to count the number of centuries scored and boundaries/sixers hit, or on the quality of incandescent batting from both sides. As I lamented last week, can we see some discipline in bowling and a little bit of guile? Perhaps, I am being unreasonable, since after a session on such a track, bowlers would like to drown their sorrows in alcohol, if not commit suicide. So, hoping Karachi would offer a more ’sporting and equitable’ wicket, let point out a positive here, another there: the maturing daredevilry of Shahid Afridi and Mahendar Singh Dhoni, Irfan Pathan’s cricketing intelligence, Dravid’s display of batting technique, which led to Danish Kaneria’s exasperated admiration (Dravid doesn’t need to wear leg pads!) and so on.

The match itself deserves no comment or report and even that cricket enthusiast coach of mine, Prabhakar, would not have watched much of this test. Further, my favorite sport (bash up the white man) is also getting old, although there is a deserving candidate this week in Michael Atherton, who wrote a lousy column (which I shall not link) venting against the ever growing influence of the brown beast (Jambu dvipa) in world cricket, which respects nobody, creates anarchy and out of that its own order. I do want to bring to your attention something that Prem Panicker reported:

“As Harbhajan floated another doosra at Younis, with slip, silly point, leg slip and short square leg waiting in hope, Waqar Younis told his fellow commentator Dean Jones that Faisalabad is a textile city particularly known for its cottons, samples of which he should pick up for his lady; Deano responded by saying he was pleasantly surprised by the
rapid pace of agricultural development in those parts.”

Why wouldn’t Deano be surprised? He has been coming to this part of the world for only twenty years and being an Australian, what does he know about anything that happened in and around Faisalabad five thousand years ago, when agricultural development began? I guess this deserves one more ‘collection drive’ to educate our Australian friend about South Asian civilization! He might need that if he were to ever coach one of the South Asian teams.

Deano isn’t the only ignorant one. My friend Krishna Prasad comments today on Virendar Sehwag’s ignorance. Apparently, the ‘butcher from Najafgarh’ didn’t know anything about Vinoo Mankad and Pankaj Roy, whose world record for opening partnership he was about to break in the Lahore test. What do we expect our cricketing heroes to know about their country, civilization and cricketing tradition? There is the Steve Waugh/Rahul Dravid (who ironically was Sehwag’s partner in trying to establish a new world record) model, of the studious, curious, informed and well grounded in history. Well, then there are others, whom we shall not categorize, this being the national compliments day and all. Sehwag himself has an uncluttered, non-analytical, intuitive approach to all matters, cricket and life. It has worked for him, and for Indian cricket. Surely, his stroke play and even mental toughness aren’t going to benefit by knowing more about Vinoo Mankad. But some of us are in the business of spreading the gospel of curiosity (especially about our own past) and hence, feel compelled to make at least an offer to Viru: free cricket history lessons every now and then. Me and Sepoy will even ensure that Sehwags and Afridis will have free access to their uncluttered minds, so that they can continue to do what they are good at: bring us joy every once in a while.