Death is likely the single best invention of Life

Steve Jobs

AFP An apple left by a mourner outside an Apple store at Pasadena, California, bids adieu to Steve Jobs.

When I was 17, I read a quote that went something like: “If you live each day as if it was your last, someday you'll most certainly be right.” It made an impression on me, and since then, for the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: “If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?” And whenever the answer has been “No” for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.

Remembering that I'll be dead soon is the most important tool I've ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything — all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure - these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important. Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart.

About a year ago I was diagnosed with cancer. I had a scan at 7:30 in the morning, and it clearly showed a tumor on my pancreas. I didn't even know what a pancreas was. The doctors told me this was almost certainly a type of cancer that is incurable, and that I should expect to live no longer than three to six months. My doctor advised me to go home and get my affairs in order, which is doctor's code for prepare to die. It means to try to tell your kids everything you thought you'd have the next 10 years to tell them in just a few months. It means to make sure everything is buttoned up so that it will be as easy as possible for your family. It means to say your goodbyes.

I lived with that diagnosis all day. Later that evening I had a biopsy, where they stuck an endoscope down my throat, through my stomach and into my intestines, put a needle into my pancreas and got a few cells from the tumor. I was sedated, but my wife, who was there, told me that when they viewed the cells under a microscope the doctors started crying because it turned out to be a very rare form of pancreatic cancer that is curable with surgery. I had the surgery and I'm fine now.

This was the closest I've been to facing death, and I hope it's the closest I get for a few more decades. Having lived through it, I can now say this to you with a bit more certainty than when death was a useful but purely intellectual concept:

No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don't want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life's change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new. Right now the new is you, but someday not too long from now, you will gradually become the old and be cleared away. Sorry to be so dramatic, but it is quite true.

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

When I was young, there was an amazing publication called The Whole Earth Catalog, which was one of the bibles of my generation. It was created by a fellow named Stewart Brand not far from here in Menlo Park, and he brought it to life with his poetic touch. This was in the late 1960's, before personal computers and desktop publishing, so it was all made with typewriters, scissors, and polaroid cameras. It was sort of like Google in paperback form, 35 years before Google came along: it was idealistic, and overflowing with neat tools and great notions.

Stewart and his team put out several issues of The Whole Earth Catalog, and then when it had run its course, they put out a final issue. It was the mid-1970s, and I was your age. On the back cover of their final issue was a photograph of an early morning country road, the kind you might find yourself hitchhiking on if you were so adventurous. Beneath it were the words: “Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.” It was their farewell message as they signed off. Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish. And I have always wished that for myself. And now, as you graduate to begin anew, I wish that for you.

Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish.

Thank you all very much.

(Excerpted from Steve Jobs' Commencement address to graduating students at Stanford University on June 12, 2005.)

Courtesy: http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/article2515479.ece?homepage=true

Maligai Medu: a date with antiquity

Buried in Time

RLTS ARE all about adventure and this time, I had more than my share. I undertook the journey, during a period when rain was cascading down in and around Thanjavur.

The place was hardly heard about. Even the name — Maligai Medu — did not evoke any particular emotion. But there is a different kind of thrill when you set out for a place so remote that you need to ask for directions at every bend in a slush-filled tract that pretends to be a road. On either side, submerged fields, abandoned huts; not a soul to be seen. The rain was coming down so hard that my car's frail wipers started groaning to clear the screen of water.

After a seemingly interminable and wet journey, I reached the village called Ulkottai. It is not far from Gangaikondacholapuram, where the magnificent temple built by Rajendra Chola-I stands. Maligai Medu, or what remains of this once-grand 11th Century township, is situated in this quaint village. While Gangaikondacholapuram was chosen as the location for the temple, which was modelled on Thanjavur's Brihadeeswara temple, Maligai Medu was where the palace was located.

Built in 1012 and abandoned for centuries, the ruins became covered with soil. From 1979 to 1985, the State Archaeology Department undertook periodic excavations that revealed one portion of the palace along with several statues, terracotta moulds and other artefacts. A boundary wall has been built around the excavated site but three-fourths of the palace is still believed to be underground.

Nearby, an unnamed open park-cum-museum holds some excavated figurines, taken from the palace site and surrounding villages. It is a pretty spot, with plenty of greenery, the big old trees providing cool arches. It is also free from noise, a place where you can have your date with antiquity in peace. Once you're done with history, take a stroll or have a picnic. It is an ideal spot for a day visit and can be combined with a visit to the temple at Gangaikondacholapuram.

How to get there: To reach Maligai Medu, it is better to reach Gangaikondacholapuram first, which is 71 km from Thanjavur, 100 km from Tiruchirapalli via Jayamkondam.

The nearest railway station is Aduthurai. You can also take a bus from Thanjavur, Chidambaram and Perambalur.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2004/12/04/stories/2004120402350100.htm

Kumittipathi : A peep into the past

For those who are game for some adventure, writes Anima Balakrishnan

WHERE LEGENDS UNFOLD The entrance to the Neolithic cave - Photo:K.Ananthan

It was not a great day to embark on your first RLT. The monsoon had unleashed itself on neighbouring Kerala and my RLT destination, Kumittipathi, is a mere four kilometres from the Kerala border.

Our guide, ARK Arun is a fossil expert. Kumittipathi, the fossil man vouches, is home to Neolithic paintings that are more than 5,000 years old. If you thought RLTs are about obscure places tucked aeons away from civilisation, this one is different. A mere 30 km from Coimbatore, the place haunts you with its deathly stillness but has an inherent capacity to surprise you.

As you drive down NH 47 towards Palakkad, clouds darken and the air gets heavier past the Western Ghats. As we steer off the main road, temperatures drop and the scenery dotted with over-grown palm trees takes over. A town appears before you from nowhere. It's Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is just couple of kilometres away. A serpentine road takes you past tiny settlements and stone quarries, and legends unfold. Table-like stone structures, Sumai Thangikal, erected in memory of women who died during childbirth rest on the roadside. The road gets progressively slender and the ride bumpier.

Squeezing past bowing shrubs, the car climbs over a languorously spread rock and the outcrop housing the caves presents itself majestically. As the rain beats down hard, we leave our phones and watches behind and I take my first close look at the mammoth rock, which sits like a grey-brown slouching monster with a quaint sense of adventure.

Uphill task

We begin our climb and Nature decides to be a little unkind. The skies open up with all fury and with no coats or caps, the slippery climb gets a little tricky. We lumber behind the fossil man, treading over dicey, bald rock with great care. After a climb of nearly 30-foot, a huge oval mouth, around 20-foot wide opens in front of you. There it is, the granite formation in rock, pregnant with more than 3,000 million years of history and waiting to unfold its story. At the entrance are the Neolithic works, called the petrographs, of a peacock, a tree, an elephant and other geometric figures, assumed to be more than 5,000 years old. They fight for space with new-age artistic creations in chalk and paint. Walk into the ten-foot deep dark cave and pieces of broken glass and match-sticks carpet the slushy floor.

A petrograph.

Those game for a little adventure will find the climb to the temple at the top of the 300-foot outcrop interesting. Erratically arranged stone steps wind up and suddenly disappear from view. Arun assures us that the climb is not too tough and being in a mood for some adventure, I agree. But as you go half way up, the steps vanish and you are at the mercy of thinly carved footrests on the sloping, slimy rock.

You move ahead, one step at a time and tend to miss more than a breath. The rain lashing down your back doesn't make it any easier. After an eternity, you are at the very top, before the Baladandayudhapaani temple. Neatly margined paddy fields stretch across as far as you can see and the Ghats covered in mist unravel like a dark giant.

How to get there

Drive down the Palakkad highway, past Madukkarai till you reach the signboard for Nehru College on the left. Turn there and drive down the main road to reach Thirumalayanpalayam. Kumittipathi is two kilometres from there.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2005/08/13/stories/2005081301390300.htm

Ulakkaiaruvi : A walk on the wild side

Ulakkaiaruvi: also a botany lesson, says SOMA BASU

THICK-SET FORESTS, rocky tracts, hidden pathways, an effusive waterfall, a three-km trek on an abandoned forest pathway. Ulakkaiaruvi is impossible to do alone. If it wasn't for the help of the Forest Department staff, this RLT wouldn't have seen the light of day.

Locals know the area but don't venture out much. But if you manage to find someone from the village or, better still, the Forest Department, the journey could become more than just a walk on the wild side — also an interesting lesson in botany.

Nestling in the deciduous Asambu forests in Kanyakumari district in the southernmost tip of the Western Ghats, Ulakkaiaruvi is about 30 minutes drive from Nagercoil. We walk our way up through a patchwork of lemon grass, under the shade of teak and rosewood and wild coconut and on a pathway along which keezhanelli and other medicinal plants abound, a live pharmacy with cures or palliatives for everything from jaundice and diabetes to chest pain.

I am shown a bilva tree. A medicinal plant whose oblong leaves form the stem too making a beautiful rangoli-like pattern. There's a mahabilva too, whose leaves are offered to Lord Siva. My companions, Sreevalsan and Ramdas, give me an interesting demonstration. They cut a branch of a tree called pullani ("vedanintholan" in Tamil meaning a hunter's friend). To my surprise, it oozes crystal clear water. We quickly fill our empty bottles and the replenishment is truly refreshing.

The area is an "active ecological habitat." More than 2,500 species of plants are estimated to grow here. The place, besides being a delight to botanists, is also an ornithologist's paradise with 150 types of listed birds found here. Plus: it is home to elephants, sambar, chital, Nilgiri tahr, langur, mouse deer and wild boar.

When we reached the base of the falls — which cascade from a height of 100 ft in a single long column of water resembling a pounder (and so the name olakkai) — my friends egg me on to climb up to the top.

The view from there is unforgettable. The shifting play of colour, the deep gurgle of water and a peppermint-like breeze contribute to the sylvan setting.

It is believed that the area may be declared a sanctuary. At the same time, the district administration has a project in the pipeline to make Ulakkaiaruvi more tourist friendly by laying paths, creating resting zones and perhaps introducing a winch to ferry people to the waterfall. But all this is still very much at the conceptual stage.

The way down is every bit as tough as the three-hour journey up and so this RLT is recommended only for the hardy.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2004/08/21/stories/2004082100290100.htm

Chitharal : History atop a hillock

The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

STEPS TO THE PAST Chitharal

After finding my way from Nagercoil to Chitharal, a tiny, unpretentious village, I stand in front of a huge Kerala-style arch. This impressive entrance at the foot of the Thirucharanmalai hillock welcomes visitors but gives them no indication of the hard climb ahead.

Lesson 1, I learnt: Don't overestimate your level of fitness. Lesson 2: It's always wise to choose a day when the sun is not too sharp to start your ascent of what is practically a vertical cliff. For, the only attraction at the end of the demanding RLT is a cave atop the hill which has rock cut sculptures of the Jain Thirthankaras and attendant deities dating back to the 9th Century A.D.

Uphill task

The moment I cross the arch and begin climbing the steps, I realise this is not an easy RLT, what with the merciless sun beating down on my face and the climb steep. Cement benches line the entire 800-metre climb but with the sun blazing down, it's impossible to sit on them. The path uphill is dotted with cashewnut trees, interspersed with other shade-giving trees. Around the benches, beds of colourful flowers have been laid and huge trees bearing red and violet flowers complete the picturesque scene - the handiwork of a former District Collector of Kanyakumari, who tried to develop Thirucharanmalai into a tourist destination.

At last, I see two men climbing downhill and hopefully ask them how far away the shrine is. They merely smile, shrug and walk on, making me wonder how much longer the trek is. But, with each step I take, it seems that I am going back in time, delving into the past, to another era. Yes, Chitharal is one of the last few vestiges of Jainism. In days of yore, this rock shrine was a pilgrim centre for the Jains.

Around the period of the decline of Jainism during the rule of the Cholas in the 11th Century, it is believed that Chandragupta Maurya, along with a Jain ascetic Badrabhahu, reached Sravanabelagola in 298 BC. Their disciples travelled to this region to spread Jainism and chose the hillock for meditation. It was, however, converted into a Hindu temple in 1250A.D., and an image of Bhagavathy was installed.

Almost an hour later, I reach the top of the craggy hill. Its name, Thirucharanmalai, means `the hill holy to the charanas'.

The charanas are said to be the eighth class of samanas who acquired the siddhi by which they could conceal themselves in flowers, water or sky. It also means `a place where Jains live in large groups.'

Atop the hillock, a cool breeze brushes against my cheek and I take in the charming landscape. The jagged outline of the Western Ghats, enveloped by white puffs of clouds, presents a pretty picture against the blue canvas of the sky. Below, the gleaming lakes, fields, winding rivers, clusters of villages nestling amid coconut and palmyrah groves, tall church spires, lofty gopurams... appear enchanting.

I explore the natural cave that has made Chitharal so famous. What catches my attention on the hilltop are two huge rocks almost resting on each other to form a narrow opening through which you can see the beautiful landscape on the other side. Squeeze yourself through this aperture and take the natural stairway down to the rock sculptures. On the northern side of the overhanging rocks are carved images of the Thirthankaras, with their distinct hanging earlobes, the three-tiered umbrella over their tonsured heads, in sitting and standing postures. The images have broad shoulders, slender waists and a contemplative expression on their faces. Between each image are inscriptions in Vattezhuthu.

As you go around the wall of rock art, another flight of steps takes you to the imposing ruins of a temple perched right on top of the hill. Most of the deities in the central shrine are believed to be those of the Jain Thirthankaras, namely Parsvanatha and Mahavira. The Hindus, however, consider these to be images of Maha Vishnu. The central shrine is divided into three chambers — one for the Goddess, another for Mahavira, and, the third, for Parsvanatha in a standing posture. Another flight of steps leads to a pond in front of the shrine. On top of the central shrine is a brick gopuram. The three-storey pagoda apparently carried images of Mahavira. But I learnt that it was destroyed by lightning in 1908.

Tranquil spot

Chitharal is a tranquil spot — a confluence of history and religion. The serenity you experience at the cave is worth the arduous uphill climb. The district administration is busy giving the place a facelift. Many tourists have begun visiting the spot to catch a glimpse of the frescos and the panoramic view of the hills.

How to get there: Chitharal (also spelt Chidaral) is 55km from Kanyakumari, 36km from Nagercoil and 7km from Marthandam. The approach road is from Kandapuram, leading to Elanthavilas. Chitharal is located exactly 4km North East of Kuzhithurai.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/04/07/stories/2007040700400300.htm

Nenmeni : Enjoy the breeze and birdsong

Trek to a reservoir, visit a temple and do some bird-watching, says SOMA BASU

PHOTOS: SOMA BASU

QUIET FLOWS THE RIVER People crossing the shallow waters of the Vaipparu

When they saw the disappointment on my face, the two young lads I met at Kullur Sandhai suggested that I visit Nenmeni. Not that Kullur Sandhai was a bad choice, but it was not quite as picturesque as an RLT is meant to be.

So I extended my drive by 45 minutes through Virudhunagar District to my new destination - Nenmeni.

A new dam under construction on the River Vaipparu, which also has a PWD irrigation tank, attracts birds in the winter months. Barely a km from the Nenmeni dam site, stands a temple in Irukkankudi, almost floating at the confluence of two rivers - the Arjuna and the Vaipparu.

Nine km east of Sattur, it is not difficult to find your way to the banks of the Vaipparu. The road is narrow and bumpy, but the green paddy fields alongside are a soothing sight.

Later, I learnt that Nenmeni is actually a corruption of the Tamil word `Nelmani' meaning `paddy yield'. I left behind rows of kuccha-pucca houses in the villages en route and drove on till the road became a long, narrow track culminating in a dead end.

There was construction work ahead, and the detour I took was a muddy, path on which vehicles of all sizes tried to squeeze through. I picked my way out of the muddle and finally reached the dam site. I was surprised to find the area dry, despite torrential rain elsewhere in the State.

The Vaipparu flowed quietly, but did not brim with water. The dam, though a modern construction in grey stone, resembled a castle. The grey dam, blue sky, the greenery around and the silver water below made an interesting contrast.

Avian visitors

The dam under construction.

The irrigation tank on one side, I learnt got filled by December and attracted a fairly large number of avian visitors. Many seasonal and migratory birds apparently made this place a stop-over. However, I did not get to see any.

So I decided to visit the 200-year-old Mariamman Temple. I walked along the bund for a kilometre.

The surrounding area was as flat as a pancake, with the hills far away in the horizon. A few coconut trees swayed in the foreground, standing tall amid other species.

As I neared the temple, I spotted the confluence of two separate streams - the Arjuna and the Vaipparu. The water flowed languidly, almost grey-brown in colour.

What was actually a waterway seemed like a busy thoroughfare with people and even vehicles going across it. There are two such shallow areas - one, almost half a km away from the temple site where two and four-wheelers cross and, the other, right in front of the temple, mostly used by pilgrims.

Two-century-old temple

My first glimpse of the shrine was disappointing for there was too much litter strewn around, some of it even floating in the water. I waded through knee-deep water to reach the temple gate. The sun-soaked exterior of this two-century-old temple gave way to a cool interior.

Legend has it that a young girl who was gathering cow dung, happened to place her basket on the ground, but later found that she could not remove it.

She had a vision that a temple should be built on the spot. The temple priests claim they have inherited the temple and all other rituals and customs from their forefathers.

Temple not really being on my agenda, I wondered what made Nenmeni an appropriate RLT destination.

Undoubtedly, the reservoir and the birds. The best time to visit is between December and February.

For the religiously inclined, the Irukkankudi Mariamman Temple is a bonus.

But there's more to Nenmeni and Irukkankudi than the dam and the temple.

The walk from the dam to the temple is fun for trekkers. It's more enjoyable in wet weather because it's cooler and the whole place comes alive with birdsong.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2006/11/25/stories/2006112500020300.htm

Thondi : A port with a past

For a slice of history, says SOMA BASU

PHOTO: SOMA BASU

PICTURESQUE SETTING The pier at Thondi

Beaches always beckon and so does anything `ancient.' This time a friend in the Police Department posted in Ramanathapuram district, recommends some neglected but beautiful places there.

"They are deserving RLT spots," he assures. So, I get into my car and head to Thondi, an ancient port city in Ramnad. The drive from Madurai takes a little over three hours. But be prepared for a stomach-churning stretch from Thiruvadanai to Thondi as there is no proper road and also leave your olfactory senses behind or else don't embark on this journey.

But if you are driven by an adventurous spirit, just hit the track. You just can't always have the best on every RLT trip, I remind myself as my eyes scan the setting on either side of the road. From Madurai to Thiruvadanai, the road is good and the drive, pretty smooth. Nature doesn't have much to offer during this season except for patches of tamarind arches on the highway. Paddy has been harvested and much of the landscape around is brown. But the worse is yet to begin when the vehicle suddenly slips with a thud from a tar track on to a muddy and pebbled tract.

Suddenly, there's activity all around. Bulldozers and road rollers, mounds of sand and beds of crushed stones line the narrow and kucha, almost unmotorable road. The car grudgingly makes its way through the brown haze raised by passing vehicles. Through the dusty veil, I spot a brightly painted temple gopuram, a moss layered school building, thatched huts and some dilapidated structures. The paint on a handful of signposts and milestones on the way has faded. The muddy road branches off from what was supposed to be the main road and curves down bringing into sight some hamlets and a church on the right.

On the left one can see the Bay of Bengal shimmering under the fiery sun. As I reach there post-noon, it's hot and what makes the initial moments worse is the smell of fish. The best option is to cover your nose and drive on. It is the first lap of about 750 m that stinks.

Unique experience

Drive along the coastline till the road reaches a dead end at the gate of the Thondi branch of the Karaikudi-based Alagappa University. Just before this beautiful campus by the seaside is the office of the Naval Detachment Unit. Opposite the naval base, a half-a-km long cemented pier takes you right into the sea. It is a unique experience to walk on it with a strong wind blowing on your face. But don't go too close to the edge as there is no safety railing to hold on to. It is a naked land jetty and used only for fishing. The water, however, is still. The Palk Strait at Thondi is supposed to be shallow and is considered much safer than other areas around the Strait and the Gulf of Mannar. Thondi could have qualified as an ideal place for swimming, surfing and sun bathing. But then due to lack of road and rail connectivity and inadequate hinterland development, the place has lost its importance and is used only for fishing now.

But its historical importance cannot be undermined. Thondi is recorded as a heritage place of the great Kings of the Cheras, the Cholas and the Pandyas, who all nurtured this port city. Even the British used the Thondi Port to import and export goods from Sri Lanka and Burma, among other countries. There have been demands to revive the port for the past several decades but only now under the Sethu Samudram Project implementation, some work has begun in laying a road to Thondi.

If the smell doesn't bother you much, then you can enjoy the serenity of the place. You see nothing but water here in three directions. In the foreground, it looks mossy green but follow the receding horizon and you find a lovely combination of blue and shining silver. The sea is gentle and fishermen's boats appear in the distance like tiny specks on the aqua canvas. If you turn your back to the sea, the fourth side reveals the secular nature of the place. The coastline is dotted with a church, a temple and a mosque.

Truly, Thondi hides a charming delight. If only the authorities take care to clean up the area, can it be developed into a more inviting destination.

How to get there

Thondi is 40 km from Ramanathapuram and 145 km from Madurai. While coming from Madurai, take the Sivagangai road and on to Kalaiyarkoil and Thiruvadanai before reaching Thondi.

Courtesy: http://www.hindu.com/mp/2007/02/26/stories/2007022600150200.htm