 
Sai Bhaskar Reddy Nakka

The Eternal Spring

A Simple Amazing Life
Copyright (C) 2019 by Sai Bhaskar Reddy Nakka

This book is declared as Open Knowledge by the Author

First edition

This book was professionally typeset on Reedsy  
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To my parents for giving me all the freedom

#  Contents

  1. Simple life
  2. Shifting house
  3. Living near water body
  4. Dangerous kid
  5. Milkmaid and others
  6. Open well
  7. Bullock cart
  8. Marbles and Kites
  9. Food and snacks
  10. Kerosene Lamp
  11. Being Curious
  12. Musi River
  13. Buffalo and other animals
  14. Bulls fight
  15. Living with snakes
  16. Exploring caves
  17. Mother
  18. Mother Tongue
  19. Thieves
  20. Cattle and dung
  21. TV and Radio
  22. Life in a basti
  23. Shop and School
  24. Playing Table Tennis
  25. Holi
  26. Fishing
  27. Cycling
  28. Capturing moments
  29. Living with Gods
  30. B-Hostel
  31. About the Author

# Simple life

I was living in Hyderabad since childhood. A suburban place. This house had a compound wall and with a wooden wicket gate. There were three rooms in a row with Mangalore tiles for the roof.

As per the ' _Vastu Shastra_ ' \- a traditional Hindu system of architecture - east facing houses were considered good. Our house was facing East. _Vastu_ considers aspects such as space and energy. All the houses in this row were east facing. It was convenient to see the neighbours and have a conversation across the compound wall. Especially for women, you may call it the early social networking - sharing space for all the updates, interaction, and the live sharing network it offered.

Next to the gate in the Northeastern corner, there was an open well. In front of the house, there were lots of plants, including a few castor plants and one cotton plant. In those days, toilets were always farthest from the living rooms. So, the toilet was next to the gate and we need to go all the way even in the dead of night. Nowadays they are attached to the living or bedrooms, so people feel more safer and use it many times.

At the third house, from our house there lived a family. We called it the house of ' _Doctoramma_.' A spiritual lady, her husband was a medical doctor. So she has got the prefix Doctor and Amma means mother called as a mark of respect. They had two sons and two daughters and they were very disciplined. Son's heads were always found shaved. She was strict and does not want her sons to see any girls and also does not want girls get attracted towards them. She was doing yoga regularly and was visiting the Gandhi Gyan Mandir at Koti for attending the sessions.

_Doctoramma_ was very compassionate. She regularly read and preached Bhagavad Gita. My mother was influenced by her teachings and became her follower. In her influence, my mother and elder sister both turned vegetarians. Soon my younger sister and I were influenced and turned to vegetarian by my elder sister. She was telling us again and again that we were committing a sin by eating non-vegetarian food, that is unnecessarily killing an animal for eating.

There was a tin bathtub in the courtyard of their house, a thing to remember. If someone got a fever, she made them lay in that bathtub, with cold water up to the neck. Once my mother had a very high fever, and she was also treated similarly.

In those days my father's earning was just enough. Once it occurred to my mother that, she could shave my head with my father's shaving razor, instead of taking me to a barbers shop for saving money. She always saw my dad shaving and thought it was so simple. When she started shaving, it was uneven at some places and complete hair could not be shaved. When she tried harder, I had cuts and was bleeding. Listening to my cries, Ms Saroja rushed to our house. She was my mothers friend, living in the same street. Was in a shock when she saw my mothers endeavour. For not causing further damage, helped me, by advising my mother to take me to a barber shop for completing the shaving. With the half shaved head, I was taken to the barber shop nearby and got my head shaved completely. Later my mother applied turmeric over the cuts to heal. Sometimes poverty leads to strange experiments and learning.

During Ganesh Chaturthi (Elephant Headed God festival), there was a traditional belief that if one gets scoldings from others, it is good. Someone told me to break the tiles of our neighbour's house by throwing stones on their roof. This was one of the easiest methods to get scolded, without getting caught and beaten up. I picked up some stones and threw them on our neighbour's roof; it had Mangalore tiles. I broke a few. They came out and started giving all sorts of Galis (scoldings). Although I was outside, they did not expect me doing that. I slowly went into the house fully satisfied with the scoldings, thinking that I will have very good blessings of Lord Ganesha in that year. Probably, this tradition existed as the Ganesh Chaturthi happens during the rainy season - the traditional potters have less work in this period - so as to create additional work opportunity for the potters in making tiles, this was made a tradition.

Behind our house, there was an open space. Lots of white quartz stones were there. The broken pieces of quartz stones were very sharp, like glass. The pieces of these stones tarnished with red soil - some curious patterns appeared when observed closely. The patterns looked like trees, images of gods and goddess, animals, and other life forms. Myself, my elder sister and with few other friends often used to go and collect these curious white quartz stones. By breaking the bigger rocks, we always explored to discover more and more curious figures. Don't know if this curiosity in stones, which I got introduced at an early age attracted me towards pursuing the Geology subject, later in my life.

The responsibilities at this age were nil. Life shapes up. One's interests surface at this age. Early impressions in life last longer.

# Shifting house

In the first house at Ramanthapur, the groundwater table fell drastically, especially during the summers. From the open well, one need to pull water over a pully using a bucket and rope. To deepen the well, it was tough as the granite bedrock surfaced. We employed people to blast the rock with Burma (Gun-powder). Every summer it became a burden, and it was a costly affair too. So, my father sold the house. For a few months, we stayed in a rented house on the same street. Whenever we saw the house, we had memories of the old house, it was very painful. Soon purchased another house nearby, which was on the foreshore of the water tank called Chinna Cheruvu. The same year it rained very heavily. While shifting the house, we carried all the things to the new house by wading through the knee-deep water. In the new place, the foreshore water of the tank almost touched our back door. There was a single big room with the asbestos roof, in an open plot of 300 square yards. There were very few houses in the area.

Before we had proper drainage in our Basti (settlement), all the water from washing clothes, cleaning dishes and the water from taking a bath was used for growing plants within the compound. In the kitchen garden, there were Banana plants, Chamagadda plants (Taro / Colocasia esculenta), and Pudina plants (Mentha also known as mint), all of them survived well in stagnant water too. The other plants in the compound were, Curry leaf plant, Coconut trees, Indian Gooseberry plants and Neem trees. Climbing the big neem trees was one of my favourite pastimes. Made swings with ropes and enjoyed swinging with my sisters. In the summers, we spent time under the Neem trees in our compound to escape the scorching afternoons. Sometimes, I used to study by sitting on the branches of these trees. The smell of the Neem tree flowers, especially during the summers, was so pleasant. Sometimes we used to brush teeth using the Neem tree stick (twigs) and also sometimes with the charcoal powder made of burnt cow dung cake. 

# Living near water body

We bought the new house on the banks of a tank in the year 1980. There was a complex of beautiful granite rock outcrops in the middle of the water tank. During the summer, when the water recedes they were accessible. In the evenings, I and my elder sister used to go there with friends for climbing some of those rocks. As I was small, it was difficult to climb. I was needed to be pushed at my bottom by someone to climb. Over a period, some of the seniors who were regularly climbing taught me to hold some rough places and small crevices with fingers and toes to climb with ease. I still remember the holds, which were critical to grip otherwise I would have fallen on the rocks. It was precarious to climb the rocks and sit on them. Each rock had a name and some of the rocks were my favourite. My mother never stopped us from climbing those rocks. She trusted us and gave freedom.

Initially, as there was no compound wall, the water from the adjoining tank during rainy season used to come and touch our house. We were living just at the edge of full tank level contour of the tank, in the foreshore area. Once it happened that, my elder sister while carrying my younger sister while walking in the water, dropped her. Somehow, she groped in the puddle and lifted the shocked younger sister. Went to the temple nearby so that my younger sisters cloths dried and returned home or else knowing that my mother would have scolded her badly.

The asbestos roof of the new rooms were not appropriately laid by Mr Babu Mestri (Mason), during the rainy days, it used to leak at several points. Many times we need to place pails to catch the drops. Although we had Charminar Brand Asbestos sheets, there was a famous advertisement on the radio, 'Ramayya enduku chinta... Charminar brand rekulu undanga' it means Why do you worry when you have Charminar Brand roof? We were worried whenever it rained. We could easily sense the intensity of the rain with the sound made by the raindrops. Sleeping during heavy rains with the sound was difficult.

There were so many types of fishes in the tank. The high density of small fish was always found close to the shore. They were mainly guppies with colourful tails. By suddenly shoaling them onto the shore with cupped hands, it was easy to catch some of them trying to escape back into the waters. Seeing fish in the water and catching them was one of my favourite pastimes. It was not unusual to see the water snakes basking on the sides of the rocks on the shore. Sometimes they used to sleep on the grass on the tank bed. During the night time, the water snakes used to catch the fish on the shoreline. It was like a dance of snakes with the sound of the splash of water, which I could witness in the dim light.

By lying on the grass on the backside, used to watch the sky. The different shapes of the passing clouds were interesting. Some of the clouds appeared like some of the many Hindu Gods and Goddesses too. Also observed the flocks of cranes returning to their nests. The pattern made by them while flying and the white colour of their feathers was always interesting. By showing our fingernails asked the cranes to give their white colour, and observe that the root of our nails turned white, in the shape of an eye.

It was very common to see almost every alternative year someone drowning in the water tank. Especially small children by accident drowned, they were very fond of water. The kids who didn't know swimming playfully entered into the tank and drowned. It is disturbing to see the children's bodies being taken out of the water. I knew some of them as a kid, I played with them too. On a Sunday, Mr Rayanna after having drinks made betting with someone that he would swim to the middle of the tank and return. The bet was for Rs. 100. At that time the tank was full. As all the people watched while he was swimming, in the middle of the tank, suddenly at one point, he drowned. Some people called the Gaja-eethagallu (expert swimmers and divers) to find, but they could not find him. He surfaced floating only after three days. We were tensed not knowing where the body would surface, finally it surfaced close to our house as feared.

In those days' toilets were less frequent. In a house of three to five families, only one toilet was available. So the majority of the men preferred to go out for defecation in the open places. The tank shore was the most preferred place for the basti people. Early in the morning before the sun got brighter the men were seen attending the natures call. Later with more houses coming up in the area and access to more number of toilets people are not found defecating in the open.

# Dangerous kid

My mother recollects that, when I was around five years old, one day I was sitting on the parapet of the open well with legs hanging inside. It was the rainy season and watertable was very high. This is due to the seepage of water from the nearby water tank called 'Chinna Cheruvu' (Small Tank); it was filled up to the full tank level. My mother's friend Mrs Saroja saw me sitting on the wall of the well. She approached my mom and told her about my precarious position and asked my mom to pull me from behind before I might fall into the well. She instructed my mom to be quiet while approaching me closer, lest out of fear I might jump into the well. My mother walked gingerly from behind and pulled me swiftly holding my shirt. She says my life was saved. Otherwise, I would have fallen in the well.

Another day, while I was studying in a school. I did not return home in time. My mother searched in many houses and asked every passerby. Finally, she found my clothes on the bank of the water tank. I was then trying to swim with friends in the shallow waters of the water tank. She took a very thin stick of a local plant called ' _Vailu Chettu Katte '_ in her hand and called me to come out of the water. Once I was out of the water tank, she started beating me all the way home about 100 meters away. I began running to the home, crying aloud and without any clothes. She did not even allow me to wear them. 

# Milkmaid and others

When I was young, from Ramanthapur village, one lady called Lalithamma, used to bring milk and curd to sell in a basket woven with a vine. She was always seen munching some nuts or sacks. My mother used to say she had badishey teeth, i.e., the teeth projected forward in the shape of a chisel hammer used by carpenters. When she arrives in the morning, one of us should lift down her basket from her head. Collect the milk and curd in the utensils and lift back the basket onto her head. For laundry works, another woman called Satyamma used to come frequently and collect the clothes.

For selling vegetables, another lady used to come every day in the evenings with a basket over her head. After lots of bargaining, my mother used to buy from her. Her husband died young, he had a health problem and was taken to a Hospital which is near the main road. He was given an injection and later he died. Similarly, there are many people in Ramanthapur who blame the hospital for the death of their near and dear. It was the only hospital nearby which is open all the time and had the facility to admit the patients for treatment. So people approached it frequently. They always gave by default an injection to any patient. Many people traditionally also believed that the injection medicine does more good. When patients died because of any other complications, they finally blamed the injection as the cause for the death.

A person by name Mr Tupakula Veeraiah was our neighbour. He used to repair the guns, so in his name has the prefix 'Tupakula' in Telugu it means guns. Many people used to visit him for getting their arms repaired. Sometimes to test the repaired guns he used to shoot the water birds in the tank. Whenever he was going to the tank with his gun, we children followed him to see. The gun which he often used was double barrel guns. The ammunition used was gun powder and steel balls (reused steel balls collected from a cycle repair shop) or Cherre-wala gun. By pressing the trigger used to generate a spark and fire the gun. The steel balls disperse in the direction of shooting as precision was more important to kill the water birds moving in groups. At least one or two birds used to get injured, and a person swims to catch them. The tamarind tree along the banks of the tank and lots of grass in the water was his favourite place. His wife died in late 40 years of age. After one year, he married a young woman and soon he died.

# Open well

In our house, there was an open well in the middle of the plot. Part of the well was dug-up by my parents. We drew water over a pulley with a bucket tied to a rope. There were many sparrows which made nests in the holes made on the wall of the well. These small holes were made for a foothold to climb up or down using a rope. They bring straw and other material to build the nest. Sometimes their eggs fall into the well and break. The whole water in the well smelled like a rotten egg, and it was tough to drink the water for two to three days. Once someone gave a turtle and we have placed it in the well. During clear days we could see it swimming and occasionally surfacing to breath air. The water in the well is usually warm during early morning hours as compared to the already stored water.

Well was the only source of water for about two decades in our house. Particularly, in the summers we three siblings and my mother used to draw water to irrigate the plants. We used to carry the water in small pails. One of us or sometimes, me and my elder sister used to draw water together. For pulling the heavy bucket and to do the job faster, sometimes we used to jump by pressing the leg on the parapet wall of the well. Giving water to plants by running was fun. We wanted to complete the job as soon as possible so that we could go out and play. By the time all the plants are given water, we would be almost drenched in water. In contact with the water, the dry seeds of Kanakambaralu flower or Crossandra infundibuliformis (firecracker flower) plants used to burst out like bullets and make a 'tic' sound. Some of the seeds also hit our legs, it was so fun.

# Bullock cart

Our school, Kendriya Vidyalaya No. 2, was surrounded by a canopy of trees in the Survey of India Campus, Uppal. It was about three and a half kilometres from my home at Ramanthapur. Every day, we used to walk with a heavy school bag to the bus stop, which was half a kilometre from our place. Very few children were fortunate as their parents dropped them at the school. Travelling by a shared van or an auto-rickshaw was a luxury. We depended on the Road Transportation Corporation bus for attending the school.

Very few buses plied from Koti and Charminar to Uppal. There were hardly any buses during the school travel hours between 8 am and 8:30 am and between 3:30 pm and 4:30 pm. Even if a bus arrives, the passengers were packed like sardines, we used to get in squeezed or travel by footboard. It was risky and inconvenient but had to endure the ordeal.

Most of the buses tilted towards the left. This is blamed on more number of passengers including women travelling on the footboard. The imbalance in weight of the bus caused the shock absorbers on the left to go crazy!

During that time, I found that a train of bullock carts moving from Chaderghat to Uppal. All along the banks of the Musi, the farmers cultivated Para grass, irrigated by the sewage water. The fresh grass from these fields was favoured by dairy farm owners in Hyderabad for a good yield of milk. The cut grass was taken for selling at Chadarghat by the evenings, and the empty bullock carts would return back to Uppal in the mornings.

One day all the buses were full and there was no room. I saw these bullock carts moving towards Uppal. Then I and my younger sister followed one of them, placed our school bags on it and walked along with it. The man riding the bullock cart told us not to follow him instead catch a bus. After travelling some distance, he understood our plight and signalled us to hop onto the cart. We became friends and chatted all the way to our stop. It became a routine as the man used to pass the route at the same time. If we missed the bus, just got on the bullock cart and went to school. Once we were halfway through the distance, a bus was approaching us with few passengers. Understanding my predicament, my friend parked the bullock cart in the middle of the road stopping the bus and then told me to get into it. Going to school had always been a great experience especially on the bullock cart.

Later in my life whenever I had an opportunity, I used to get on the bullock cart. The most enjoyable ride was when my cousin got married. He went to a bride's home in a chain of bullock carts after the wedding ceremony. My dream was to get married in a similar manner. Keeping it in mind, I had chosen a beautiful image of a bullock cart procession for the wedding card. Unfortunately, it remained a pipe-dream.

While returning from school we faced the same transportation problem. We used to come out through the small gate to catch a bus at Ampro Biscuit Factory. As usual, the buses were full, rarely stopped or stopped far away so that some of the passengers can only alight from the bus. Some of the students hated the buses so much that they used to throw stones at them.

There used to be a row of old and beautiful Ficus trees near the bus stop. Some of us climbed the trees, plucked and ate red coloured sour fruits and tasty leaf buds. Sometimes used stones to dig the nodes from the trunk of the Ficus tree for some kind of edible material. Then we marked initials of our names at favourite places on the branches. Now, these trees are gone as they were axed for widening the road.

Sometimes we walked to the next bus stop at Modern Bakery, where buses used to stop. To quench our thirst, we used to go to the Modern Bakery and request the security guards to allow us to drink water from their cooler. There we got to know how the bread is baked. Some workers were kind enough to share pieces of bread with us through the separating wire mesh.

There used to be a Mirchi-bajji and Masala-vada (snacks freshly made in oil) selling cart. A combination of the smoke from a coal stove and frying Bajjis and Vadas made us hungrier. In those days we did not know the concept of pocket money. If anyone had some money, he would buy things and share it with friends. It was not just the classes and teachers, fun and commuting with friends was also a special part of the schooling.

# Marbles and Kites

Playing marbles and flying kites were my favourite games as an adolescent. There were a few popular games with marbles called Gotilata - a small depression in the ground was made, from there, should hit the opponents marble with middle or forefinger stretched, Mumbai, Kanche, were other versions of the games played. The marbles were made up of glass or in Hindi glass is called Kanch, so the marbles game in Hindi called Kanche. The smaller than average size marbles are called Putni and big marbles are called Pedda-gotilu.

As a kid playing marbles, like a squatted monkey and jumping around was a good exercise for body and mind. Connected to the earth by feet and hands was also a good thing as it improved the immunity system.

In the basti, it was common to see some youth playing Marbles by betting. They used to play marbles by drawing a square on the soil against the wall. The wall due to the repeated hitting by the marbles had holes formed.

I used to store my marbles on the sajja that is a shelf made outside of our house. Others cannot climb this sajja as it was challenging to reach, so my marbles were safe there. At first one needs to climb the parapet wall and with the support of projected bricks should climb to the top of the sajja.

I liked flying kites especially during the Sankranthi festival, which falls on 14th of January every year. I made my own kites which were trendy but flew very well. My experiments of flying kites, probably motivated me to learn flying drones at a later stage in life. I sometimes say my life is like a kite, flying high with a thread. The thread was my source to remain in a place and focus on interesting aspects and fly high. When released, stuck somewhere again and focused on interesting things and flew high and so on. I am like a flying kite with complete freedom not tagged to a single source for ever. 

# Food and snacks

As children buying snacks was rare about 40 years back. Our favourite snack was freshly fried peanuts and pieces of jaggery (made from sugarcane juice). Whenever it rained, the above recipe was a must. I would go to the Marwadi shop ten streets away to buy groundnuts and jaggery.

Buying chewing gum was a luxury, so my mother taught us to make our own chewing gum. We chewed the wheat grains without swallowing it, after some time it turned into gum. We had a Guava plant at home. Sometimes ate the leaves with a piece of tamarind calling it Pan (betel leaf) that adults cherish.

Upma (cooked with coarse wheat flour) was the traditional tiffin. Rice was the principal food, eaten along with a vegetable curry, Rasam, Pachhi-pulusu (raw tamarind juice with onion, green chilly pieces, and a pinch of salt), Pappu Charu (Yellow dal plus tamarind juice) and Sambar (like Pappu Charu with types of vegetable pieces), additionally had pickle and curd. Sambar or Pappu Charu was very common at home.

My mother preferred to make sorghum and wheat flour rotis on the biomass stove. The stove was rudimentary which was usually made out of clay or three bricks and released lots of smoke while cooking. Especially in the winters, we always preferred to sit near the biomass stove and is used to watch the flame, while my mother prepared rotis, cooked rice and vegetables on these stoves. My experience with the biomass stoves started as a child, probably these observations later in life motivated me to design and facilitate efficient cookstoves.

Sometimes by adding sugar to the wheat dough, the rotis prepared were delicious and crispy. Avisha podi (Flax seeds powder) with sugar was also good to eat with hot rotis. The taste of the food cooked on these biomass stoves was delicious, when compared to the food cooked on kerosene or LPG stoves that I ate.

Food didn't have a great variety, but it was tasty and yet it was never less sumptuous. Maybe it was mother's cooking that had the magic or the expectations were within the means. 

# Kerosene Lamp

Every day in the evenings, we used to sit outside the house on a mat made up of interwoven leaves of a palm tree called Eetha-saapa. We were doing homework from school and study till night. My mother used to sit with us and made sure that we don't deviate and fully focus on our studies. Soon after sitting for some time, I used to get up to attend nature's call. My mother used to say, 'When I tell you to study, you remember the toilet.'

In those days' power supply was irregular so we depended on kerosene lamps. There were three types of kerosene lamps at home - Pedda-Kandil (Big glass lamp which is called Arabic Kandil or hanging lamp), Chinna-Kandil (small glass lamp) and Seesa-buddi (Mostly used an empty 'quarter' whisky bottle with a wick pierced into the cap, was used as a lamp). Whenever the wick length is increased for more light, they used to release lots of sooth. Sometimes when we bend closer to the lamp for enough light, it smelt like burning hair - as our hair already caught fire and we used to rub our hair and carry on with studies. It was fun learning under the light of a lamp and the whole family was so close sitting together.

My mother used to clean the lamp glass every evening with ash from the cookstove and a cloth. The light from the lamp was yellow and alluring. I used to watch the flame with a lot of interest. The lamps also attracted some light loving insects in the evenings. The insects were also interesting. Nowadays we don't feel like watching the electric bulbs such as filament bulbs, CFL bulbs and LED bulbs. They are boring and are also harmful to the retina. The dancing yellow flame from lamps and cookstoves is more interesting and absorbing than any other artificial source of light. 

# Being Curious

I studied till fourth Class at the Good Shepherd school. It was considered as one of the good English medium schools in Ramanthapur. This school was about one kilometer distance from our home. We used to walk all the way. As there were few houses and lots of open spaces, we always went walking by the shortcut path.

This place was where the Brindavan park came up later; it was an open area with lots of exposed pieces of quartz rocks. These rocks were sharp. In those days mostly we were wearing slippers to the school. One of my classmates' younger brother got hurt while going to school. The first toe of one of his foot got cut with the quartz stones. He was profusely bleeding, one of the friends told that by pissing on the wound, it would get healed quickly. So my friend and I pissed on his toe. He cried a lot with the pain. Later in life learned that fresh urine is sterile, it has ammonia which has therapeutic properties. Someone also suggested to apply the juice from the leaves of 'Tatha-Tatha-Thai' (Sp. Tridax procumbens). And we often applied this juice to the fresh cuts. This plant has yellow colour flowers with long stalks. We used to break the flower from the stalk with a snap and say 'Tatha-Tatha-Thai'. In Telugu Tatha means grandfather. It was fun playing with these flowers on the way to school.

It was interesting to see the millions of Velvet Mites in the same place appearing in the rainy season. Out of curiosity we often collected some of them in our hands and observed. Their legs gave a tickling sensation to the hand while they crawled. Sometimes we caught Jinganna - a beautiful rainbow coloured beetle. It is Sternocera aequisignata a species of beetles belonging to the Buprestidae family. The other green colour bugs were common which gave very unpleasant smell when caught; they are called Jewel Bug or Shield Backed Bug in the family Scutelleridae.

There were many guava trees near our schools. During the season the fruits were found hanging across the compound walls. On the way home, some of my friends used to pluck them or hit with stones. Although they are so small and not yet ripened, we ate them with interest. In the process sometimes we got scolding's from the owners.

On the way home near the school, there were a group of Palm trees. There were also many pigs of local breed. These pigs were pitch dark and were eating all sorts of things. Below the palm trees, there was always a small pool of domestic wastewater with lots of mud. The pigs always loved to play and sit in the puddle. The fruits from these trees were sweet. During the season when the fruits fell, the pigs consumed all the juicy sweet part of the fruit and leaving behind the hard nuts or seeds. After a few days, these nuts would become dry and found strewn all around the base of the palm trees. We often collected them. They were very hard, so by throwing the granite stones we break them open to collect the hard nut inside (when fresh it is very soft and slippery called Munjalu (Palm Tree Fruit). By washing with water, rubbed the exterior brown colour fibrous material against the rough cement walls. Finally, this turned into a white colour hard nut. It took a few days to consume it bit by bit. Eat the same thing again and again till it lasted.

Also, there was a Sapodilla or locally called Sapota orchard next to our school. The unripe Sapota's we often collected by throwing stones at the trees. By rubbing the brown outer layer on the rough cement walls, the inner milky brown colour fruit was exposed. This was not sweet, but we ate it with so much interest.

I had an intuition that I would become a scientist during the third and fourth class. I enrolled my friend Mr Venkat. I brought a few old toys; these were mechanical toys with spring action. He also brought some of them. Imagined that we would make a new machine. We both have chosen the tall Cheema Chintakaya (Sp. Pithecellobium dulce) plants near the school. During lunchtime went there and broke them into parts and we tried to make something which we don't know.

Once in school, I found a small piece of steel wire. In our classroom, there was a switchboard with a facility for plugs. I wanted to know if there was current on the board or not. Two of my friends were sitting next to me. They also encouraged me to test. I pushed one end into one of the holes; nothing happened, probably it was neutral. I pushed another end into the next whole. With a spark and shock to me, the wire broke into two pieces. In the process, it generated lots of heat, and one of my forefingers also got burnt. It was by chance that, I escaped the shock, and also this incident made me conscious of not meddling with electricity in life again.

One of my friends Mr Srinivas was very enterprising. He started small poultry at home on his own. He told the story of how to become rich from a pair of hens - they would lay eggs - make the eggs incubate - chicks would emerge - so could multiply them thereon. It was fascinating to me. I went to his home to see myself his poultry shed. Later in life, he was involved in the real estate business and made enough money. This was my first exposure to entrepreneurship by a friend.

My father bought once a cigarette lighter. By pressing the button, I could see the fire. I was curious to know how the fire was created through the spark. I took the lighter to a friend's house without informing anyone at home. There I tried to open the components to see myself. I could not open it, tried using hands and mouth. Finally, I decided to open it using a granite stone. It got crushed, but lastly, I could see the cotton soaked in petrol inside. As I was immersed in my experiment, my mother came searching for me. She found that I have completely broken the lighter beyond repair. I remember the day because she started beating me all the way home for damaging the lighter. I also got the name at home as a person who destroys the things. Perhaps for better things in life also requires one to destroy something. Destroying something is the way to understand and strive for creating something new. Probably my curiosity in exploring things led me to pursue Doctor of Philosophy and continue the research in life.

# Musi River

My friend Mr Vasu was infamous in his circle of friends. Many were afraid of him as he used to pick up quarrel at the slightest provocation. Surprisingly, we got along well. The Musi river, the lifeline of the city flows South of my home at a distance of one and a half kilometers. Walking on the banks of the river was fun especially during the summers. The fields were irrigated from two parallel irrigation canals upstream, these canals carried sewage from the urban areas. The Para grass was cultivated with the drainage water and in the waterlogged areas. The fresh grass was used as fodder for buffaloes, which give a good yield of milk and people liked the buffalo milk. In those days people preferred to buy fresh milk. While we walked in this area, we would come across many people from the Ramanthapur village, cutting the grass and loading it on their bullock carts. The place looked serene with green grass all around. Watching the sunset from these grasslands was always beautiful. Waterbirds especially the egrets which were white in colour visited the place in large numbers and looked very beautiful in the background of dark green colour grass. I used to wonder how in spite of being in the slushy and dirty fields they were always so white. The sounds of the chirping birds and the cool evenings made the whole place even more beautiful. Close to the river bank, there were many fruit bearing trees including, such as Cheema Chintakaya that is Sp. Pithecellobium dulce, it provided cool shade and the innumerable fruits. Once during our visits we felt thirsty, the villagers directed us to go to a spring and have water. It was very close to the river, yet the water was refreshing, cool and sweet. Initially, we were hesitant to drink as the polluted water after flowing at a distance of 400 meters filtered through the grass and the soil, it resurfaced as spring here. Nature has its own treatment systems with which it cleans the pollution, but nature has limitations too.

Once with my friend challenged ourselves to walk all along the bank of the river, to a place called Nagole bridge. The total distance was about two kilometers. We did not knew the path but still kept on walking. On the way, we got into knee deep mud. The earthen bund's separating the fields were narrow at some places, it was very difficult to balance and walk. As we were new to the place, we fell into the fields with grass and slushy mud. We made a mess of ourselves and the dirt stuck to our dress like dark grease. We watched the river in its natural splendour along with several water birds on the way. Finally, we managed to reach the Nagole bridge and we washed ourselves and the clothes with relatively clean water and left home. If I remember my adventure done at the age of ten year's it was too risky, but for me worth a life long memory. This incident I never shared with my mother.

# Buffalo and other animals

Next, to our house, there was plenty of grass growing on the tank bed. With receding water in the winter and summer, the lush green grass used to grow on the fertile tank bed. It was common to see many buffalos grazing around. In those days we were buying milk every day for my younger sister, as she was very young. So, one day my mama i.e., my mother's brother, Mr Veera Reddy, had sent a buffalo from his village. My mother engaged one girl called Munni, to take care of this buffalo - that is to take it out for grazing, providing drinking water and giving it a nice bath every day. The buffalos like to take bath everyday. The milking was done twice a day by my father or by my mother. Then we had good quality milk and curd every day. We had plenty of dung too, some dung was used for sprinkling around the house. And some dung was used to make into dung-cakes for using as fuel in the biomass stove. As we were small, we watched the buffalo with curiosity and sometimes took the buffalo out with a rope around its neck for grazing. There were paddy fields nearby. Sometimes our buffalo was attracted and drifted into the paddy fields for grazing. We were having trouble with the farmers. After about one years time, we sold the buffalo. And by the time my younger sister was also consuming less milk.

We also had dogs and hens at home. The country chickens were kept at our home for several years. They were free range chicken. For the chicken, to stay during the night, we made a small makeshift house. It was protected with a tin door for safety from cats. The whole day they roamed and fed in the neighbourhood, that is on the banks of the tank. They liked eating earthworms and other insects very much. We were also giving grains as feed sometimes.

Inside our house, near the ventilator, there was a pair of sparrows always living. They brought in the straw and twigs from outside to make a nest. My mother used to wake up early and so the birds. The chirping of sparrows and the calls of the chicken were the natural wake-up calls for us. Nowadays it is very rare to see the sparrows living inside the houses and people don't allow them to live. The corrugated asbestos roof sheets above and the supporting wooden beams always gave a chance for the birds to have a nest. In the modern new buildings, the architecture gives very less scope and niche for the birds to make nests. In many buildings even if there is scope they are averted by placing the long needles on such spaces. The sparrows altogether disappeared for various reasons, only recently I could see some sparrows reappeared in our neighbourhood.

The pet dogs that we had in our home were all local breed. Rani, Tomy, Subramanyam were the names of our three dogs that we had in a span of ten years. The first dog Rani once gave birth to a litter of puppies. It was raining heavily, and the water entered into its den. By listening to their cries, my mother woke up saw them drenched in water, brought them inside the home, cleaned them with a cloth and made their stay comfortable. Rani was watching all this with approval and submission. As our house was the last house in the basti where we lived, we had the threat of thieves, so the dogs provided us with lots of security and company too.

Childhood passions rarely die and resurface again in life. At the research center started near Jangaon in the year 2010, again I started having some pets. This place was very open, about half a kilometer away from the village and it was surrounded by fields. I bought the local breed of cocks and hens from the Lambada tribal hamlets. They were so majestic with bright and colourful feathers. Also bought some Guinea fowl, it was said that the snakes are afraid of the Guinea fowl. Because this place had lots of snakes including the poisonous, like, Cobras, Banded-kraits, and Russel's vipers, which I encountered occasionally. In the night the wild cats which were locally called Janga-villi visited the centre, and in a few weeks, time ate all the Guinea Fowl, which preferred to roost on the trees outside.

A cat named sweetie, a dog named 'Biochar' which was pitch black in colour, and another dog brown in colour named Mallanna were raised at the center one after another over a period. As they were living in isolation and there was no one staying at the center in the nights, after a few months they left the center and started residing in the village with other dogs. Recently a Labrador dog, named as 'Zen' was bought for my children. As it grew, the space for it appeared less at our residence in Hyderabad. So after three months I have taken it, into one of our villages and left it with a known family. They have buffaloes and a small dairy, so they could give every day enough milk, and now it has grown very well. When I met the dog after five months' gap, Zen was so joyful. I could feel its warmth and love, which is unconditional. For every person in life getting connected with the other life is the most beautiful space to live. 

# Bulls fight

There used to be lots of sparkling white sand on the banks of the tank near our house. The water was also shallow. This place used to come alive when the bullsfight (the fight between the male water buffaloes) were organised without prior notice.

For members of Golla or Yadav community living in Ramanthapur village, dairy was their primary occupation. Cows (Female Water Buffaloes) were commonly preferred for dairy as the milk had higher fat content and there was demand too. With the abundant grass cultivated on the banks of the Musi river, the dairy was a flourishing activity. In every house with a compound, there used to be a large number of buffaloes. Every house had a bullock cart too for fetching the grass.

They used to organise fights between the bulls. It was always at the foreshore area of the tank close to our house. The onlookers used to gather around within minutes. Children and women used to climb on to the tank bund to have a safer and clear view. By seeing them as a child I was also curious and ran to have a closer look. The bulls were well fed and groomed. It was a feast to look at the muscular body of the bulls.

They used to lure the bulls into the fight by introducing a cow. The bulls used to take sometime to get into the fighting mode. Maybe they used to assess the worth of the cow to lock horns with their rivals. The interest is the contention. The bulls used to stare at each other and move in rounds. And suddenly they used to charge into the fight. Sometimes the fights used to last a few minutes and always less than half an hour. In the end, the losing bull used to run away at a very high speed charged by the winning bull. Probably fear for life makes one run faster -and the energy of the body and the soul pushes its limits and makes it run even faster. Whereas the winner is using its ego and bodily energy to chase the looser. If the winner does not catch the looser again, it might mean that the loser is also strong enough. That is how we test the endurance in the racing games.

The bulls used to go back into village, knocking people walking and on bicycles, on the way. The cow returned home calmly with its owner as the two fighting bulls ran away. Sometimes there is no reason why people fight for their false ego. The bulls were followed by cheering crowds and the owners, to catch and stop them. The running bulls were dangerous to pedestrians as the lanes in the village were narrow.

The fight between the bulls served the purpose of selecting the best bull for animal husbandry and progeny. It was entertaining for many and some used to bet on the outcome. Such bullfights are rare to see - today the bulls have no place in cattle shed. With artificial insemination, it is rare to find those sturdy bulls in our vicinity. In the domain of animal husbandry, the male species have less scope and chances to live.

Most of the fights among males in mammals are common over a female or a group of females. It is the natural selection process for improving the qualities of progeny. In human beings, it goes beyond, and every male competes through wealth, education, class, race, religion, place of origin, and other traits.

As a child, I got to see such bullfights and I personally don't support the bullfights created just for the entertainment of people.

# Living with snakes

While living in the Ramanthapur along the banks of a water tank, our house was on a Dolerite Dyke with red soil and partly with alluvium. About 80 meters away from our house, there was a snake hill or nest, locally called 'Pamula Putta.' The terrestrial snakes prefer to reside especially in the red soils, which give more comfort by relatively remaining dry during the rainy season too. These are the original residence places of the ants or termites, after they are abandoned the snakes occupy as their homes. Hindu women worship snakes, especially once in a year during Nagula Panchami. The putta mannu or ant hill soil has a great value for maintaining - biomass stoves, the earth floor and the mud walls in the traditional houses.

It was during the summer vacation; I was studying in 6th class. It was a hot day. As we were living in the asbestos corrugated roof house, it was even hotter. Electricity supply was never continuous to run the ceiling fan. It was very very hot outside, as it was afternoon. My mother did not permit me to go out and play in the scorching heat. She asked me to sleep for some time. So I chose a room partitioned in our kitchen which was relatively cool.

I slept on the bare floor, for about an hour. My elder sister woke me up, telling that kerosene has come in the ration shop and I should go and get it. In those days one needs to hurry up to collect the Kerosene as and when it arrives at the ration shop. Otherwise, it would be over soon. We did not knew when the next stock would come. The shop owner also sells some of it in the black market and always creates a shortage. Some people use it as fuel in the autorickshaws and other vehicles, replacing petrol or diesel as it was low priced due to the subsidy. So there was always a shortage of kerosene. We had two kerosene wick stoves and also a biomass stove in the courtyard. LPG was a luxury in those days, so we could not afford an LPG stove. I left to Narsing's ration-shop with the empty Kerosene Dabba, i.e., five liters reuse Castrol tin can. We had to stand in a queue even for getting kerosene. Getting sugar, kerosene and sometimes wheat from the ration shop was a big task for me, especially waiting in queue for hours.

While I was returning home, saw a huge crowd around the house. At first, I thought, there must be some street fighting going. But my doubts grew, and anxiety multiplied as I saw people going towards our house. Someone told me that there was a huge cobra snake inside our house.

It happened that when I left to the ration shop, my elder sister Ms Subhadra, started cleaning the room with a broomstick. She went into the place where I was sleeping in the afternoon. As she reached the corner of the room, she heard some sound. She was afraid and called my mother. My mother also heard the hissing sound and thought cats were fighting and making the hissing sound. This room was dark at that time as there were no windows and there was no electricity. She at first thought that the sound might be coming from the trunk box in the corner. She opened the hinged lid of the box, on the top, there was a cloth cover, which fell backside of the trunk box. She did not find anything. Still, the sound was there and it was even louder. She slowly dragged the trunk box and saw the cloth which fell backwards in the corner. Now she lifted the cloth, and for her shock, she saw a huge cobra standing on its hood. She ran out of the house in fear. Called some people to do something about the snake. That was when I have arrived.

Many people had the experience of killing snakes, but they were not interested in killing this particular snake. Because in this room, one of the shelves was used for praying. All the idols and images of the gods were there with a small lamp lit. This snake pointed towards that shelf with its full hood was not moving at all. Everybody said that it is a Gods snake and they would not kill it. Traditionally we also pray Cobra, consider it as Naga Devatha or Cobra Snake God. So my mother slowly approached towards the snake from a safe distance and prayed it to go away. Yet, it did not move an inch. She thought of finding someone who could do something to get this snake away. She left the doors open and was walked briskly towards the temple nearby. The priest of the Satyanarayana Swamy temple was preparing himself to go to the temple. He was putting the vermillion on his forehead and body at that time in the courtyard. He saw my mother rushing, asked her what the problem was? She told the situation. He said although we consider it as a God, it is a poisonous creature, we cannot live with it. He promised that he would come and see for himself. He also tried to let it go away from the room; it did not move an inch. It was still focussed and remained still. Now he took the task to himself, he said, I do pooja and pray God every day, so if I kill it, there is no problem to him. He took a boulder and from behind climbed the separating wall in the room and just dropped the boulder on it. With a thud, the snake was killed, and there was blood splashed all over the place. Now people slowly came in, to see and pulled it outside. Someone put a copper coin in its mouth, and the people cremated it with due respect. The burnt copper coin, later was tied to a thread and tied around the waist of some child. It was considered auspicious. The traditional belief was that if they burn it, its soul will not take revenge. Later in the life of the poojari, there were many problems, and he became very poor and sold his house and left the temple too. My mother used to say that poojari faced all those problems because he killed the snake.

Now, the topic of the talk was, how I could sleep with a cobra in the same room. Because when I left, my elder sister immediately started sweeping the floor and the snake was there already. Some people said I passed through the 'pamu gandam' (threat to life from a snake), which could have taken my life.

Some days later, a small cobra entered our house. In those days the power cuts were for hours together. We used to have a kerosene lamp. It was around 7:30 p.m. My father was also there at home. We just returned from the ration shop and kept the bag leaning against the wall. My mother lifted the bag to take out the things from the bag and found this baby cobra. My father killed it.

Another time, my mother was doing gardening work during the rainy season. She saw a small banded krait snake emerging from the hole in the basement of our neighbour's house. She saw this and, she killed it with the bricks lying nearby, and went out to throw it outside the compound wall. When she returned saw another one emerging out, and killed that as well. She was waiting to see if any more would emerge. On the whole 18 snakes appeared, including a big snake, probably its mother. She killed all of them. With so many poisonous snakes within the compound, it would have been risky to our lives too. We still appreciate her courage to deal with the poisonous snakes for the safety of the family.

The GEO research center started at Jangaon was in the midst of agricultural fields. In the early days after procuring the land, once I was walking towards the GEO Meet place. This place had very dense plants. I was observing the birds and looking upwards. Suddenly with a hiss, a cobra opened its hood. I turned and saw a big cobra just behind me. I still remember the pipe in its mouth opened during the hiss. It immediately went under the asbestos sheets placed on the ground. I realized, we are in the natural habitat of the snakes, so should give respect to their space. Since then, whenever, I walked in the wilderness or bushes, walked with caution and with full presence of mind. Sighting of snakes in the GEO Research Center became common. I saw many varieties of snakes.

After completing one of the rooms at the GEO Research center, I decided to stay at the center. The first day I stayed there is memorable. I came with my two kids. Mr Mahesh who was working with me was staying in the town. This day, I said we are going to stay tonight at the center. Having seen so many snakes around, he was afraid. There was no power and the room was just completed. My kids feeling secure in my presence did not have any fear and they agreed to stay at the center. There was a lamp made with an empty liquor bottle by inserting a wick. The light wobbles with the slightest of the wind. My children slept in the middle, Mahesh was searching for a place guessing, if snakes enter into the room how and in which direction they would move. After about 10 minutes of planning, he had chosen a safe place to sleep.

Later we bought some foldable beds, whenever I stayed there, I always slept on the foldable bed laid outside in the open. Letting the snakes pass by without any hindrance to their natural paths. No animal harms humans unless they are threatened, or else it is just an accident.

In one of the rooms which was constructed with the earth walls, there appeared a huge termite mound about 1.5 meters above the floor. Initially, we tried to remove it by chiselling away the soil and also sprinkled Kumkum and Turmeric. But it appeared again. People said it would attract snakes and could become a habitat. I left it as it is. Considering that this house was constructed in their habitat, and there was nothing wrong in giving some space for them to live with us.

# Exploring caves

I was in 8th class when, our school was in Survey of India campus, at Uppal, Hyderabad. There was a hill of granite rocks it was called Elugu Gutta (17.405088, 78.547603) about two kilometers distance from the school. It was about 100 meters in height. The view of the city was beautiful from the top. The top of the hill had a benchmark too. There were many caves and tunnels inside this hill, formed because of joints in the granite rocks and the rubble. The tunnels were like a straight-line-maze. Very little light reaches the floor through small spaces in the roof. It was very steep. One huge boulder was there at the top, separated by a deep open joint of hardly two feet wide. We need to cross on to the main boulder over a stone stuck in the joint. I was fascinated by the deep valley created by the joint which was about 30 meters deep.

I used to visit this place many times during my school days. I was there one day with my classmates. We friends had a challenge about who will reach the bottom of that valley by climbing down. None of us knew how to reach the bottom of this joint between the rocks. We literally ran like monkeys but without any skills of rappelling. Crawled, jumped and ran. Among all of my friends, with great difficulty, I managed to reach the bottom. This was one of the most dangerous challenges for me. If I slipped and fallen, it would have been fatal.

During another visit with my classmates, while climbing down we saw some youth who were collecting some dry grass, sticks and waste papers. We asked, what were they doing? They said there is a very dark cave and they are trying to enter into it. For light, they were collecting the materials. They were older than us and were from the Government School, Uppal. They said we could accompany them, if interested, to explore the cave. We liked the idea, but we did not know how it would be inside. We all slowly crawled inside. After reaching some distance it was pitch dark, they tried to light the material bought with us. The fire was there for some time we could see, it was a huge cave inside. But suddenly, the fire went off and there was so much smoke. Could not light the material again. Everyone suffocated with smoke. By touching the walls, we barely managed and came out of the cave. Some of us had bruises and lots of dirt on our dress. My new pant was also torn in some places.

It became an interesting place to explore the natural rock formations. One of the caves was favourite, I used to visit always. There were lots of bats hanging in the cave. I can even now feel the pungent ammonia smell from the excreta of the bats. These are the beautiful memoirs of rock climbing and adventures during the school days.

# Mother

My mother is the greatest influence in my life. She gave me all the freedom to do many things yet she was a disciplinarian when it comes to studies. She made sure that my siblings - elder and younger sister and I reach school in time. We almost never missed classes in school or college.

She handles multiple tasks with ease. She can cook simultaneously on two stoves and also cut and chop vegetables. Tea was her favourite drink. I used to make tea for her whenever possible. She has lots of patience. She took care of my two nieces and my two sons until they completed the fifth standard.

She wakes up before the break of the dawn and does the entire household chorus even today. In the neighbourhood, my mother is the first person to wake up and clean the place around the house. The sounds of her sweeping the floor with the broomstick and sprinkling of water on the ground were the first sounds one hears at the dawn along with the chirping of birds.

Sometimes we used to buy dry wood from the Kattela Mandi (firewood shop) near Girnikada (near the flour mill). We always had some dry stems from the plants in the compound for using as fuelwood too. We had a biomass stove outside the house and two kerosene stoves, which my mother used for cooking.

My mother taught the importance of drinking water after taking food. She would warn us that wall lizard would urinate in the mouth if one sleeps without drinking water after eating. The understanding as a child about this concept was, any person who does not drink water after eating and after a few hours when they open their mouth, the breath smelled like the urine of wall lizards.

Once I jumped over our compound wall and got my ankle sprained. I was ten years old. My mother wanted to take me to Doctor Qurshid's clinic, which was about half a kilometre from our residence. I was weak and could not walk. My mother carried me like a child to the hospital. Mother is a mother! She had all the energy to carry a grownup son. The problem with my ankle continued for many years. Whenever I had pain in the ankle, my mother had a remedy. She used to heat leaves of Saraswati plant (an ornamental shrub plant with blackish green leaves) over the pan with edible oil and then tied it with a piece of cloth. She also took me to Shalibanda Katla Dawakhana near Charminar. It was a traditional hospital run by a Muslim family. The entire family was involved in treating the fractures or sprained parts. They used to massage with oil and other ingredients and then tie with a bandage. It worked very well for many patients in and around Hyderabad.

One day my friend and I were trying to catch crabs by putting our fingers in the crab holes. My mother caught us in the act. She summoned and thrashed me by saying what would happen if there were snakes in the holes. I learnt a lesson - never blindly explore unknown things. Then, she recalled an incident that took place in her mother's village. Some children were playing with a ball. When it fell into a pamula putta (an earth mound where snakes reside), a kid put his hand into the pit to pick up the ball. A snake living in the hole had bitten him. Not realising the impact and afraid to tell his parents, after a few hours the child died.

We, three siblings, always had a bath with warm water in all the seasons, for which biomass stove in the compound was used. My mother believed that a bath with warm water keeps the body healthy. My mother was buying cow dung cakes from one Mr Lachaiah. He had about 20 buffalos and his family used to make dung cakes by hitting the dung on the walls or on the ground mixed with rice husk or dry paddy straw.

My mother often shared her childhood memories from her native village with us. Before her marriage, being the youngest in her family, she was loved by all. She used to accompany her Peddamma (Mothers sister) to see relatives in other villages, riding a horse or on a Buggi-bandi (a small bullock cart). She also recounted how her brother saved her life when they were caught in a stormy-rainy weather. A tributary of Musi River, Pedda Vagu (Esi River) flows close to her village, Regadi Mamidipally. Her parents owned land on the other side of the river. Due to heavy rain in the upstream side of the river, the water level was rising quickly. They were caught unawares and her brother asked her to hold his waist strongly, and he waded through the rising waters and brought her home safely. She also shared how hard her life was, she needs to get up early to make the flour for Jowar rotis, attend the work in the fields, and other domestic chores. My mother's simple life and hard work left an inedible impression on my life and work.

# Mother Tongue

Mother tongue is the native language, which a person has grown up speaking from early childhood. In every family, there are at least two tongues (languages), i.e., spoken language by mother and father.

When a child is very young, say between one and three years old, most often we see people don't teach them the grammar nor pronunciation. The adult people while interacting with them sometimes speak the meaningless language of blabber and also make strange sounds. Because children also make different sounds and they love their sounds. We get down to their level and get immersed in their sounds. An educated person is also not ashamed while interacting with children like that. If the same person records and listens to the sounds made while conversing with very young children, would laugh at oneself. The connectedness with the children and love, helps a person communicate with infants through such sounds. It is the communication of love with children, beyond words. In contrast, an educated specialist would make his language more complicated with jargon. Just like a doctor would spoil his handwriting to write prescriptions for a patient, which is understood only by the pharmacist. They would never make it simple to be comprehended by ordinary people. Similary, the jargon of economics is made complex, otherwise it is simple science.

My mother tongue is Telugu. The mother is the first teacher for a child. Naturally, the language known to the mother is the language taught to the child. Education spoils the mother tongue in the name of the refined language. And also an educated mothers tongue (language) is also altered, so there is no way for the transfer of authetic mother tongue to a child.

Writing is required to be grammatically correct. People are less concerned about grammar while speaking. Spoken language is like a shot arrow and cannot be corrected once said. Andhra Pradesh and Telangana are two large size states with so many dialects and historical background. But the government is not concerned to print the textbooks based on the dialects for the children in elementary schools. Based on the literature and the board members constituted for preparing the textbooks the language is decided. In the name of the common language, the local dialects are condemned to be lost.

A child educated in the respective mother tongue should get the highest marks. But I saw many times the children getting more marks in another language, such as Sanskrit rather in their mother tongue. Sanskrit is called as scoring marks language by students. That is the motivating factor for many children choosing Sanskrit even in higher education as a language. As a child, I was a poor student in learning including Telugu. Although I learned Telugu till fourth class, my mother tongue, i.e., local dialect did not change. So the definition of my mother tongue is that I still retain the language spoken by my mother + family members + basti language spoken by friends and others + the mix of other languages spoken in the locality + reading + listening to the media +__ +. Therefore being a Hyderabadi, I had a particular flavour of spoken Telugu with a mix of say 85% local Telugu language, 10% Urdu and 5% English. Erstwhile, Hyderabad state now Telangana State, was never ruled by the British, so there was a less artificial intrusion of English into the local language. I took Hindi, Sanskrit and English languages for my studies in the school. If I studied the Telugu Language in school till 10th Class, I would have lost my mother tongue and learned the Telugu called Grandhika Telugu (or bookish Telugu) and would have become an average Telugu speaker. I would not have got good marks in Telugu too. Because I need to unlearn my mother tongue and learn so many new words of alien Telugu. To appear as a learned person, people even with difficulty speak the Grandhika Telugu rather than speak in their native tongue. Sometimes people laugh at those speaking the mother tongue. There is another spoken Telugu called, Vyavaharika Telugu (colloquial Telugu). It is the Telugu language commonly used for the understanding of everyone which is close to the Grandhika Telugu. It is spoken by the Media people such as in Radio and Television. I did not learn even the Vyavaharika Telugu which is understood in general by all the people in the state. It is a difficult challenge to make everyone understand a commonly spoken language when the state is so vast and diverse. In fact, there is no 'commonly spoken Telugu'.

Once it happened that, while studying Geography, a lady from the All India Radio came for a short bite on the environment for a radio program. She asked me a few questions, and she recorded. Before leaving she said, 'Your spoken Telugu is not suitable for broadcasting on the radio.' For the first time in my life, I realized that my language understood by everyone around me is now alien. Still, I preferred and continued to speak the Telugu language that I knew, even if it is alien to the establishment and some people. It gave me lots of freedom of thought and choice of words. I could focus on the subject more rather on the words, which anyway is not understood by some people or the other.

Once I went to Bhimadole a town in West Godavari district of Andhra Pradesh. The Telugu language spoken in the West Godavari has a typical dialect with accent and charm. I was the program officer for the National Environmental Awareness Campaign program. The program was organised by the Gowthami Social Service Society. It was my first public address in life. The venue was in the coconut and mango grove. About 100 people gathered. I started speaking but saw that no one is listening and there is no expression on their face. They are not able to understand my spoken Telugu. It was a mix of Telangana Telugu, Urdu and few English words. I thought the Telugu people could understand my spoken language. Finally, the organisation head understood my problem. The issue was resolved by arranging an interpreter to convert my Telugu into the local Godavari Telugu dialect.

Although I faced so many challenges, but never lost my dialect. It had the geographical identity (GI) and especially liked by the local people where it is becoming a rarely spoken language with the influence of media and school education. I spoke several times on Television and gave lectures on diverse topics but always spoke in my mother tongue. People from Telangana are simple, hardworking and straight. The sentences are also simple with a punch and slight humour. I am thankful for the geography, history, and culture which taught me to speak the Telugu which has become an inseparable part of my personality too.

# Thieves

During the period 1980 to 1986 thieves struck at will and created scare among the residents in Hyderabad. Our house was the last one in Indiranagar, Ramanthapur with two roads on both sides. To the South, there was a water tank, and the house was in the foreshore area. In those days' thefts were common in our neighbourhood too.

Once a gang of thieves robbed a goldsmith's family living behind the Satyanarayana Swamy temple. They have targeted the house mainly as the thieves conducted reconnaissance and learnt that the family was involved in making gold ornaments. Before striking the goldsmith's house, they locked the doors of the houses in the lane by latching them from outside. Then they broke the door of the goldsmith's family with heavy granite stones. At the time of the incident, about 10 family members lived in the house.

The thieves have beaten everyone in the family and took away all the gold, including the jewellery they were wearing. On the way, they also tried to burgle another house. This house had steps to climb from inside to reach the rooftop. The owner of the house Mr Swamy managed to rush to the terrace and shout for help. The people in the neighbourhood heard and came to his rescue. By the time the people gathered near his house, the thieves ran away.

Next day, the police came with sniffer dogs and started looking for the clues. The thieves escaped by running on the tank bund. After this incident, everyone in our area became alerted. Such thieves are called 'Bandi Potlu' or 'Bandi Potu Dongalu' in the local parlance. They not only steal by force but also harm the people.

To prevent any such incidents in the future, my father and his friends living in the neighbourhood wanted to have a vigil in the night. They bought lathis (a five to six feet long sticks) and whistles. They used to conduct 'gasthi' (being vigil and walking in the streets). Soon, they engaged Nepali Gurkhas for guarding the area. The Gurkhas are known for their bravery and honesty. They always kept a special Kukri (knife of Gurkhas) with them. The entire night they used to walk in the streets and they tapped the electric poles or stones with their sticks now and then to make their presence felt. Their tapping sound and whistles did not disturb us, but those who were not asleep felt confident with their presence. At the beginning of every month, the Gurkhas visited houses with a notebook and a pen. Each person gave money as per their willingness and entered their names in the book. The good thing about Gurkhas was that they never complained about the money. Many times, people busy with their daily chorus, asked them to come again and they returned some other day.

Later in 2006, a theft happened in our house when there was no one at home for a few days. I went to Delhi to attend a workshop while my parents went to our village. On their return, the parents saw that the main door was broken and found the two almirahs (cupboard) doors were found broken. We lost all the jewellery in the house. We went to the police station and made a complaint in the form of First Information Report (FIR).

After two years, the police informed that the thief was caught and he was in custody. Asked us to come and see the thief, I was curious to see him. My father and I went to the police station near ECIL, where all the thieves were kept for interrogation. I was directed to the accused; he was chained to a window bar. He showed no sign of remorse. I thanked him for not damaging the almirah (steel cupboard) doors which he opened skill-fully. We could easily get the doors and locks repaired without shelling out huge money. I asked him why he chose our house for committing theft. Our house is at the corner with roads on two sides. He said that they conducted reconnaissance for about two days and found that our house was locked.

During the interrogation, the police got some information regarding our stolen gold. The police told us an interesting story regarding the stolen jewellery. After committing the theft, he sold the gold at a place near Bangalore. His gang committed many other thefts and were caught. The Bangalore police could retrieve our gold and gave it to one of the victims from an influential family as a replacement, as they could not retrieve their gold from the same thief. This is one of the methods of rendering justice by the police. After settling all that, the Bangalore police have handed him over to the Andhra Pradesh police. Therefore, now the Hyderabad police have the thief in their custody without the recovered gold. The police pose for a group photo with the thieves standing behind them and the statement below says, 'The thieves are caught.' I could not stop laughing whenever I come across such news in the newspapers.

I told the police finally not to bother us further by calling up again as they were unable to retrieve the gold and don't want to waste our time listening to their stories. Anyway, they are not going to arrest the Bangalore police and retrieve our lost gold. 

# Cattle and dung

Cow dung plays an important role in parts of India, as a tradition and culture especially among the Hindu families. Especially in front of every house, women after clearing the floor sprinkle the cow or buffalo dung slurry. It is done almost regularly during the winters (dust was high during winters) and other times at least once in a week, preferably on every Friday. After sometime given for the drying of slurry, women and young girls apply Muggu, i.e., the floral or geometric patterns and designs are drawn with white colour calcium powder (in some places the flour of rice is also used). Every woman is an artist and it is an expression of a women's innate aesthetic expression through art. Preferred drawings are usually motifs, flowers, birds and chariots. The patterns are also an identity of the house lady. My mother also used to do regularly early in the morning, before we wake up. Collecting cow dung was the duty of myself and my elder sister. We used to go to the banks of the water tank and wait for the buffalos to come out of the water after their bath. These buffalos mostly used to give dung only after having a nice bath. They used to walk gently, and we used to observe which one is going to raise its tail slightly. It is an indication that it is going to deliver dung. There used to be so much competition from other children too, waiting for the dung. Secondly, we need to catch the fresh dung, before it touches the sand on the ground. Once the buffalo was identified, we used to run with a pan and grab the dung before it fell on the ground. Or sometimes trying to hold with both hands and later shifted it into the pan, but it was so much to handle. Sometimes my mother used to give pocket money of 10 paisa in appreciation of getting the dung.

Traditionally in parts of India, dung is considered as auspicious and used for the sanctification of a place too. Although cow dung is preferred, as the cows are becoming rare, buffalo dung is also used. It is auspicious in the Hindu temples, especially the dung of traditional cows. It is a major sanitiser too, and its presence drives away houseflies. In the traditional low-income families with earth floors, it is nice to contain the dust too. The walls are regularly maintained by plastering with a mix of dung and clay. With pieces of undigested straw and semi-digested straw, after drying it forms a good insulation material. People sleeping on the earth floors, feel the warmth during the winters and coolness in the summers. The cattle are an integral part of the life of people living in traditional villages. 

# TV and Radio

Radio was the primary source of entertainment and information a generation ago. Listening to the radio was the only pastime. We had a radio box. The Radio itself was so big in those days, and it was well protected in a box made up of wood and with a glass door. After the Radio was damaged over a period, later we used the empty box for storing important documents, and we called it Radio Dabba (Radio Box).

In the 1980s the televisions were fashion and the in thing. They were beyond the purchasing capacity of the majority of people. The government facilitated one Television to the Gram Panchayat of Ramanthapur. In those days there were only Black and White Television sets. The Doordarshan, the Government Television Studio, was located at Ramanthapur. Every Sunday in the evening at around 5 o clock they used to telecast a Telugu movie. People used to gather at the Gram Panchayat, even before the movie starts. Some used to sell snacks like Chudva (mixture) and Pulla (stick) ice-cream, etc. I have also gone and seen a few movies along with the crowd. Over a period, a few families could afford to purchase the Television sets. I used to visit their homes to watch movies. A few families also started showing the movies on weekends, by charging 25 paisa per movie as ticket price.

We also bought a Television set named Urvashi of Bharath company. We had a low voltage supply so caused the television to break down regularly. Because of low voltage, there used to appear black bands running on the Television and most often we watched the TV with prayers for good voltage. The good voltage used to come only during late night when most of the people slept. It had a door to close the television too. It was pride, so many times we had a photo with the Television. There was only one channel initially, everyone watched the same story. Apart from weekend movies, I liked to watch the serials such as Rajni, Yeh Jo Hai Jindagi, Buniyad, Ramayan, and Mahabharat, etc. The National and Local News also was very good to watch.

# Life in a basti

Almost 35 years in my life I lived in a basti, called Indiranagar. In this place, people settled from different parts of the country like Telangana, Andhra Pradesh, and Maharashtra. Hindus, Muslims, and Christians resided next to each other. People from all castes and professions were living together. Uppal industrial area is very close by, so many workers were representing different trades and skills. Majority of them are from poor or lower-middle class. The residential plots were mostly 100 to 150 square yards. Many people here were tenants of small houses.

In a basti, everyone is a king, queen, prince or princess. Their pride is always high. In general people live in houses, in the basti's people preferred to live more on the streets. The streets are never dull. For children, the roads were the playground. Have seen children evolving into leaders on the streets. Street corners are the favourite places for youth to hang over and discuss till late-night. For youth, it is a place for gossip, networking, and socialization. They could discuss politics, sports and also about a girl that they are interested in. For antisocial elements, it is a place to show their strength and making mischief. People whistle for no reason to get the attention of everyone. People take sides in no time by involving in any fight between the people and groups. Although everyone has fought one time or the other, their efforts to calm down tensions and explanations to resolve the conflict by pacifying the warring groups reminds me that they are no less than messiahs and saints.

In the past, about 20 years back, people were found even sleeping, cooking and their children shitting on the street. There is not a single day when there is no fight among some residents. Often police come to pacify the fighting people or sometimes in search of catching someone who has done something wrong and absconding. Any incident in the basti would draw everyone's attention. The quarrel between husband and wife is also an issue of public interest. For me seeing people fighting was very common. The families around were interested in fighting both verbally and physically and at the slightest of provocation. We could get the intensity of verbal fighting and expect that turn into physical. Would come out of the house to watch the fight and see who wins. Sometimes a couple fights with another couple, but suddenly one couple starts fighting among themselves leaving the other couple and get inside. I have heard all kinds of Galis (abuse or denunciation or revile) and seen people breaking their heads and bones. I finally realized one day that there is no Gali as such, it is just a statement about relationship or state of sex that is not true. I never gave Galis to anyone intentionally, although I learned every Gali in Telugu and Urdu at an early age.

There was an old lady with three daughters and three sons. All of them were married. When we were small, often used to see the fighting among themselves. The whole families and their children used to fight ferociously. Sometimes they threw bricks and rocks against each other. Over the years as some of them died with age they are calm and peaceful now.

In the last ten years, a lady is staying in a rented house across the street. This lady emerged into a kind of leader. She is loud-mouthed and fought with everyone in the street already. She reconciles people and also supports any work related to common issues such as water supply, electricity failure, drainage overflow, etc. She is very good at mobilising a group of people for any common cause. There is a water tank placed in the street next to our house. The municipality supplies water through a borewell. It is the center of activity from morning to dawn. She dominates in deciding who should take water from the public tap. During the elections period, one could see a stream of people gathering here; she pays people for joining a rally, a public meeting or anything some political parties require. The local politicians seek her services. During my childhood, she used to sell vegetables near the main road.

When I was young, used to play glass marbles and Gilli Danda (small and a medium stick) on the streets. I knew everyone in the street and mingled with everyone like a basti boy. But one day when I was about 13 years old, my mother told me not to go out and play with the basti friends. I stopped going out and completely gave up meeting childhood friends nor made any new friends after that. To ignore many deviations and distractions while coming in or going out of the basti, I learned to walk very fast and mostly by looking down.

There was a mentally insane lady called Yellamma, near Jandakada in the basti. Kids used to tease her by calling her Yellamma ..Pui ..Pui, she often gets infuriated by their calls. She then threw stones at the people giving all kinds of Galis.

We had typical names for the places near our house such as Jandakada (Near the flag post), where flag is hoisted during Republic and Independence days; Girnikada (near flour mill); Chinna dukanam - Small shop); Vepa chettu kinda dukanam - The shop below the Neem tree; Marwadi shop; Imarat Building (Imarat means building); Gudikada (Near the temple); Main road, Masjidkada (near mosque), etc. These names were understood by everyone in the basti.

On the way from home to the main road, the distance was about 0.5 km. The street dogs were many, but there are few dogs without any provocation they would ferociously bark and try to attack. I learned to ignore and respect these dogs, just like the troublemakers on the streets.

Some of the basti people are poor too. Some children don't aspire much for higher education. Because of the culture of a basti, some children were dropouts also. Fighting is a common trait of the basti people. Few of them become Goondas or Rowdies. Sometimes unnecessarily they shout loud or make catcalls and blow whistles to draw the attention of others and make their presence felt. They make loud sound by tuning the silencers of their motorcycles. Some of them have typical horns for their motorcycles and make annoying sounds. While walking, I always ignored such sounds and never made eye contact with such persons. By ignoring them, they also ignored me, and I always had my own space and freedom.

# Shop and School

My father was enterprising. When we were young, he had less income. To improve his income, he did surveying of the lands and prepared the plans for the houses. One of his friends owned a rice mill, where the paddy is converted into rice. One fine day, he just started a shop at home for selling the rice. Soon there was demand for other groceries too. It became a full-fledged shop selling all kinds of items. I also used to go with my father to the wholesale market for bringing the goods. It functioned for about one year successfully and then wound up as he invested the money in purchasing some land.

My elder sister after her graduation started teaching in a school. Soon she got married. My father one day said why don't we start a school for education, which both my sister and brother-in-law could manage. Soon, our house got converted into a primary school. We called it Parijatha Public School. Parijatha is an auspicious small white flower with a lovely fragrance. All the rooms which we were using turned into classrooms. In our area, as we were living for many years everyone knew us and joined their children in the school. Over a period, up to 7th standard, the students were attending. Whenever I had time, I used to teach children in the school. My experiments on teaching started here. I used to ask children to choose a lesson of their choice and teach them, rather starting in sequence. When children had chosen their lesson, they were very much interested in listening. By the end of the class, the children could memorize the whole lesson. Children learning by choice had more interest and could learn very fast. I also taught yoga to children. Children were very happy doing it too. In the end, their favourite exercise was rolling overhead on the floor. Children love what they want to do given a chance.

# Playing Table Tennis

Once while I was studying in school, I was playing cricket with friends. I was batting, and one ball bounced and hit one of my eyes. My vision of that eyeball was blurred. For the next three days, I could not see well, and I did not tell my parents about it. I thought this game is dangerous because the ball is very hard. And also I felt that to get a chance of bowling or batting or during fielding, one has to be attentive and extremely patient waiting for the chance. Even among friends, those who own the bat and the ball, would sometimes bully and get more time for batting or bowling, and others need just to spend time fielding. There are issues as well like hierarchy, oppression, suppression and many things a weaker person could face in the team games. Therefore, the other game which I liked is Table Tennis. I found so many advantages while playing the game. The ball is small; one will never get hurt. It is an indoor game, and one can play anytime. The place required is less and maintenance is very less as compared to the ground, which needs to be maintained with grass and lots of water is required. The movements are quick in Table Tennis Game, and decisions are very fast. In one's life, this game might also train in taking quick decisions and respond. It improves eyesight with so much exercise watching the ball movement. And it is an individual sport and fewer politics in getting into a team. It has so many other advantages, and I am learning even now.

There was a Table Tennis table lying in one corner of the school. We never thought about it. Our junior Mr Srinivas (the tall one), knew the game. He and some other boys who had some experience of the game requested our Physical Training teacher and got it placed in a an empty hall. We saw they were playing and the game interested us. With friends sometimes visited the recreation club of Survey of India next to our school building. We started playing table tennis with the bats and balls available there. Mr Aravindan, my friend, gave a piece of a bat without a handle. One day we both went to Beerappagadda, Uppal and got the handle made by a local carpenter. Now I have my own bat. Some of our classmates, Narendra, Aravindan, AM Prasad, T. Srinivas and some of our juniors started playing table tennis in the school. There was only one table, and we were many. We need to wait and sometimes fight for our chance to play. Soon we all got addicted to this game especially during the 8th and 9th class. Sometimes we used to play late in the evening until the time the school doors are closed. But we were not content, wanted to play more. Some of us found a secret door and way to enter the school and play table tennis. There used to be a door at the far end, connected to a corridor. By keeping the bolt open, it appeared as though the door is closed, we would enter the school again by pushing the door. Another approach was by jumping over the partition at the stair which was connected to the second floor. Once entered, without anyone to disturb we used to play till late in the evenings. One of the reasons for going home late was we usually would not get the bus as all the buses were full as all the children used to come out of school at the same time.

After school, the next two years I did not play. I joined for my graduate degree in PG College of Science at Saidabad. This college had an excellent sports room and table tennis too. Soon, I started playing. When I was in the first year, I even fought with my seniors once as they were not giving me a chance. They said that you have two years to play and you can wait. My obsession with this game started growing, used to play even in the university hostel. My immediate senior Mr Arun Kumar became my friend, and we both used to play a lot. In this college, the classes were few, as most of the students rarely attended the classes, so I had lots of time playing the game. Soon, I became a good player and started beating everyone in the match. Spinning the ball was my favourite. At home, I used to practice the spin of the ball on the wall. During the first year annual sports, I won over my seniors including the seniors who fought with me too. They accepted and appreciated by interest finally. Now my confidence increased, I was dreaming that I could become a state or national player. I requested my father to give money for buying a GKI bat. Now, I was feeling confident about my game. I found that the YMCA at Narayanguda is the place where many state players practice. I went and took membership there for playing Table Tennis. On day one, I was waiting at one of the tables; two girls were playing. After some time, one of the girls gave me a chance to play. I had more confidence in my defence and spinning. But with the least score, I was defeated. Now, I was shattered, because all these days I thought, I am a good player. So, I gave up going to the YMCA but continued to play the game. Mr Arun Kumar, took me to the Osmania University campus to improve our game. The university was about ten kilometres from our college. That was the first time I was introduced to the 'Lounge' at the University, which was in the basement of the Osmania University Arts College building. This place had three Table Tennis tables and a few carrom boards to play. It was like a den full of smoke from the cigarettes. Some of the students while playing the games smoked. We together especially played doubles with so many players and improved our game. Also used to visit the Lounge of the science college which was opposite the Geology Department. This continued until the end of the third year happily.

Again when, I joined the Master of Science in Geography i.e., after two years, our college was in the Arts College building of Osmania University. My classmate Mr Chandrapal was also a good player. So we both used to play a lot in both the lounges again. Recently, again I started playing Table Tennis. I met my school classmate, Mr T. Srinivas, again here and we often played the game. I never lost my interest in the game. This game helped me in making decisions without wasting much time.

# Holi

In my childhood, I loved celebrating Holi, a festival of colour smearing colourful Kumkuma (a red coloured organic powder) on each other's faces or spraying coloured water onto others was the usual way of playing Holi. But, we had a crazy way of playing.

In such a frenzy, Shiraz who was a few years older living in the same galli (street), threw me into a gutter nauseating with stench and murky water dribbling all through the head to toe, I had to walk all the way home to have a bath.

It was only one of the wild ideas, but we had many others in store such as smearing tar, suner (silver dye), textile dyes, waste engine oil, grease from the vehicles, etc. Really it was a drudgery to get rid of such hazardous pigments or substances.

Come holi.... we would dress in our oldest or useless clothes so that we could least bother about them later. Our fun included stopping passersby on streets and demanding money lest we would throw them into gutters or smear all those horrible things. They would usually yield and with the booty, we would celebrate buying sweets and snacks. Such a practice is learnt from groups of women, a few days before the Holi go house to house, sing and dance, and ask for money.

We would play till noon and go to a nearby tank (water body) or an open well where we could have a heartful swim. We had to have such a bath to scrape all the stuff off our bodies. The other reason was the scarcity of water at home. Whatever it was... there would still be traces of stains, especially of Gulal, a pinking colour which would remain as patches on face and ears for few more days.

# Fishing

During my childhood being very close to the water tank, I fell in love with the life in and around the water bodies. Liked to observe fishes, insects in water, water birds, and water-snakes. During Sundays and other holidays, it was very common to see many people fishing with a fishing rod around the water body.

There were two tanks (water bodies) near our house. Because of that many fishermen settled around the area. They would collectively work as a society named 'Gangaputra Sangam.' When those tanks were full of water after monsoons, they would leave fish seedlings and would harvest grown fish during summers, using huge fishnets. However, they would not mind much when other people catch fish using fishing rods.

Somehow, I was fascinated with fishing. One day, taking some money from my mother, I bought a fishing hook and wire from a shop nearby.

Earthworms were good baits for fishing. It was easy to find them in open spaces around our houses where sewerage water pooled. The only thing we were to do was to dig the wet earth around those pools to find them. After finding them, we would carefully put them in a waste paper filled with wet soil to keep them alive.

I hated to pin the live earthworm to the hook. I always took the help of someone to do the job for me. After slipping the earthworm over the hook, I would spit on the hooked earthworm and throw the fishing line into the water. Probably the fish also liked the saliva of humans. I tried fishing with wheat flour as bait, but it was not so effective.

Finding the right place to sit and fish was another considerable thing. 'Follow the crowd' was usual set principle, fish love to wade throw grassy areas near the shores... taller the grass more was the fish. Sooner I started fishing then, I learnt some art of finding their hideouts. Depths of water was also a considerable point. Different species have had different locations of living and moving as well. A float made of soppa-bendu (a piece of sorghum stalk pith) was tied strategically in order to leave the hook at the desired depth. By tying a piece of lead wire near the hook, the hook was made stable and easy to throw the hook at the right spot with added weight.

For the fishing rod, mostly used to select the long stick of Lottapeesu Chetlu (Ipomoea plant) which grew abundantly in the water. Attracting fish to the bait is something very important.

The float danced when fish touched the baits - but waiting to watch such dances was nothing less than meditation. It is being present and nothing else. However, it was fascinating to wait, watch and catch. Sometimes, I would contemplate upon the strategies that particular fish could follow. Some clever fish would cleanly eat the bait and escape without swallowing the hook. I felt that such fish were smart enough to sense that it was the bait not the food. People with all the intellect and education many times get duped.

After a long wait, finally, the chance comes when the fish swallows the bait and starts running away from the spot. The float moving away from the spot or drowning is an indication that a fish has swallowed the hook. Lifting the rod with a jerk is also an art, the hook needs to be held in its mouth. Otherwise, the fish would slip. The fishing rod with the fish at the end is the final moment of happiness.

Catching two to three big fishes at the end of the day is a great achievement. I remember one Sunday; I could catch three big Murrel fish of about 1.5 kg in total. It was one of the costly freshwater fishes. On that day our relatives have come home. My mother was happy seeing my catch. One of the aunties in our compound processed them, then my mother cooked the fish. To remember my catch, I have stored the skin of one of the fishes. During childhood, myself, two sisters and my mother never ate non-vegetarian food.

Once, the tank was full in the season. Water was touching the compound wall of our house. There were lots of small fish. Since I didn't have a fishing rod with me at that time, I took a pin, which is used to fasten paper, and bent it to make a hook. I found a small stick and some thread for the fishing rod and started fishing using earthworms as bait. I had a bounty of small fish... maybe they are not so smart as the big ones. I fed them to our pet hens at home. The hens seemed to enjoy them gulping and fighting with others.

On another field day, there were no buses to go home from school because of heavy rain. I had to walk home along with some other kids like me. On our way home, we say some people catching fish in the overflowing waters of Ramanthapur tank. Fish were being flushed away along with the water under the culvert. Leaving our school bags with smaller kids, one of my friends, Srinivas and I joined the gang of people who were catching fish with bare hands. Someone taught us where to look for fish. Soon, we were able to find some in the niches and holes. The water was turbid and reddish, yet by groping all around, sensing the tinglings of fish movements we had our share of fish. We safely tucked them in our socks. Swaying them all the way, I went home and our hens had a hearty meal once again.

I went to Charminar for shopping in the recent past about three years back. I saw a shop selling all kinds of fishing gear. They were selling the ready-made kits. I thought of teaching my two sons how to fish. I bought three fishing rods, hooks, floats and the wire. I asked the shop guy, about the place for fishing around Hyderabad and which is close to my residence. He said that the Edulabad Cheruvu (Tank) is a good option. Following Sunday, I took my family with me for fishing. On the way, we bought some wheat flour and the powder of dry fish for bait. I made a paste of it by mixing with water for using as bait. Reached the tank, it was winter so fish surface less as compared to summer period. This tank receives water from a canal which channels the drainage water in the upper reaches of Musi River. The domestic sewage also gets mixed in it. The water was not so clear and clean, but the tank was full. There were very few people found fishing. We got on to the tank bund and our whole family - myself, two sons and wife, were engaged in fishing. The whole family enjoyed it, a moment to cherish.

During a field visit, my team and I were returning to Miryalaguda town. Nagarjuna Sagar water is used for irrigation through a canal network. The water is relatively clean. At one place along the roadside, I saw some people fishing with simple fishing rods. It was about ten kilometres away from Miryalaguda town, and it was evening, I asked my driver to stop the vehicle. I requested the fishing people to give me one of their fishing rods. The puddle of water adjoining the road and paddy fields had lots of fish. Within a few minutes, I could catch three fishes. It made my day, and I was happy. My colleagues also tried their luck.

The water tank next to our house in Ramanthapur has deteriorated over the years. The residential houses have come up and contaminated with the sewage water. The quality of the water is now completely deteriorated and turned into a cesspool of dark water. The encroachment of the foreshore area and the solid waste dumping in it has shrunk it further. It is disheartening to see the death of a lake which has given me so much space to get connected with nature and the environment.

# Cycling

I repaired an abandoned bicycle, it was left against the payment of rent, by one of the tenants who left without information from our house. It was fun doing that. It had a leather seat. I used to go to college on this bicycle. The bicycle parking was next to the tributary of Musi River near the college building. On the other bank, Coranty hospital (Quarantine Fever Hospital name became coranty in local Telugu) was there. The smell of sewage still lingers when I recollect my Junior college days. I often saw many kites (birds) flying over this stream. Sometimes they also caught the water snakes by diving into the waters. My intermediate education of two years passed without any other activities. I saw just two movies in the whole of two years of Intermediate. In those days Kumar and Chermas brand dresses were trendy. One of my friends bought a shirt for Rupees Seven, during one of the shop's inauguration, and he was wearing it to the college.

I got an opportunity to use a bicycle again during my postgraduate studies at IIT Bombay. Our department was at a distance of about 1 km from the Hostel. During lunch, we need to come all the way from the department to the hostel. To save time, I wanted to have a bicycle. I came to know that in Hostel-1, they were auctioning the bicycles left by the old students. The students after getting admissions and jobs abroad they left their bicycles in the hostel parking area and remained there unclaimed. Over a period, there were several bicycles which were accumulated. Dr Navaneetha Krishnan was our senior and the secretary of Hostel-1. I went there and selected one, it was in bad shape. I took it outside the campus and got it repaired. It had basic necessary things, and only the back wheel brake was functioning well.

My friend, Mr Biswajit Mahapatra, was staying in the same hostel. During lunch time I always took him to the hostel. Coming down from the department was easy as there was a slope. One day as we were coming to the hostel from behind the library building, someone came in between, and I tried to apply the brake. Due to inertia due to motion, there was a jerk to the front wheel fork joint. My friend was sitting on the rod in front of me, and I was cycling. As this was an old bicycle, it got rusted at the fork joint and weakened over the years, so it broke. Suddenly we were diving in the air, and the front wheel of the bicycle was going down the slope on its own, detached from the bicycle body. We both fell down along with leftover cycle parts and got hurt. The integrity of the bicycle is lost. My friend was bleeding from his hand, and he was in a shock. I too got hurt. It was a comedy scene for many other students going for lunch at that time. I pushed the parts of the bicycle to a side, and we both rushed to the Institute Hospital for treatment. My friend had such a bad experience that he did not dare to ask lift from me later on.

After writing the semester exams, I felt very relieved and always floated with freedom. To celebrate the completion of my semester exams, I went on my bicycle in the night to parts of Mumbai, to experience and enjoy a new life by night. I took Mr Reghunathan (Reghu) and Mr N. Vekata Krishnan (Venky) each one on the two occasions. I convinced them that we will explore Mumbai in the night and its life. I was cycling and they sat on the rod of the bicycle. It was joyful, talking and riding the Mumbai in the night going in an unknown direction. Only after midnight reached back to the hostel. It was a great experience of freedom and joy.

# Capturing moments

Photography became my hobby when I was very young. A friend of my father Mr Shetty, who was working in Dubai gave an automatic canon camera as a gift. I was about 15 years old then. I learned to take photos on my own, without any training or guidance from anyone. Soon I became an official marriage photographer to all my relatives. My relatives were mostly farmers and could not afford a photographer. They used to give money for a roll of colour film, and I need to take all the essential photographs with a single roll, i.e., 36 photos. They used to like me a lot, and I almost agreed to take photos on demand as most of the marriages were in summer during my academic vacation period. I started becoming a good photographer too in the process. Sometimes, I used to take black and white photographs also, as the camera roll and developing cost was cheaper. I took the help of my friend Mr Mustafa to improve photography skills. Also experimented along the Musi River and Osmania University campus taking landscape photos. Photography gradually became my voluntary service for people requesting me to take photographs on different occasions. For documenting the environmental problems, I have used the pictures very effectively in decision making.

I started using the digital camera from 2000 onwards. Digital cameras are more convenient and less costly compared to traditional photography using camera rolls. The storage, editing, retrieval, and sharing became very easy with digital cameras. Now I use a mobile phone with a camera very efficiently. Sometimes I have used the IPAD and Samsung Notebook for taking the pictures.

Once, I was working in an office which was on the outskirts of the city, so daily I was travelling across the city as my residence was on the other end of the city. I used to commute by car covering parts of the new and old parts of the city. I took this as an opportunity to take pictures for one month (December 2015) and made a book with photographs covering the diversity of Hyderabad city. This book is titled 'Hamara Hyderabad.'

Photography has changed rapidly in recent times from roll cameras to digital cameras, and now the mobile phone and drone cameras for photographs. Mobile phones are more convenient to take pictures as they don't distract the subject. They are improving very fast and very cheap too. I also got very interested in aerial photography and had been taking photos using the drones.

All the recent photographs have metadata, such as the GPS location, date, time, details of the instrument used to take the picture, aperture, etc., which are very useful for research, analysis, and authenticity.

From the age of 15 years taken more than one lakh pictures. Uploaded all of them to Google Picasa photo album. I have used them as pictures in my book, in the PowerPoint presentations, the posters, websites, blogs, etc. Declared all of them as Open Knowledge for anyone to use them. They are also useful for me to recollect and refresh my memory of space and time. They are the moments in my life which became immortal, through digital storage and sharing. Thankful to google for giving access to free storage of the digital media.

I also took several video clippings and recorded audio of my lectures. The audio files of more than 500 hours are in digital format. Most of the videos taken by me are uploaded on YouTube. One day with artificial intelligence, these media files, the browsing history, all the documents created, could be fed into a robot to create a similarly thinking person and one could continue to contribute for the betterment of the society beyond the life. If good media is intentionally shared and made available on the open source it will make the world a better place.

# Living with Gods

Around my home, we have a high density of temples. Almost all the temples were built on the tank bed area, which was reclaimed by dumping the waste material. The temples are Sri Rama Sahitha Satyanarayana Swamy Temple, Pochamma Temple, Sri Gangamatha Temple, Katta Maisamma Temple, Sri Baktha Markandeya Swamy Temple, Sri Panduranga Swamy Temple, Sai Baba Temple, and there is also a Mosque and a Church nearby. All these places of worship are situated within half-a-kilometer radius from my home.

Sri Rama Sahitha Satyanarayana Swamy temple was the first temple. My father Mr N. Pochi Reddy, along with his friends played an active role in the construction of this temple. Since beginning, for about 15 years, he was the secretary of the temple. Later it was taken over by the state government under the Endowments department. Now it has a complex of Gods' idols. My childhood was mostly spent around this temple. I used to attend every year the Brahmotsavam, Seetha Rama Kalyanam, Karthika Masam early morning pujas etc. With so many loudspeakers around with Bhakti songs and the prayers heard from temples and the mosque, played early morning and evening, I got used to listening to them and started liking.

On the opposite side across the water tank, there was a burial and cremation ground. Whenever someone died, with loud sounds of _dappu_ (leather drum) the funeral procession is taken from their house up to the burial ground. The sounds are very intensive and heard up to one-kilometer distance. When the bodies have been cremated, on that day in the night the fire and its reflection in the water tank was clearly seen from our house. As children, we were afraid to see in that direction during the nights.

Ganesh Chaturthi is an important festival among the Hindus. It is celebrated with great reverence in parts of India. The elephant-headed god is auspicious in almost all parts of India. The statues of Lord Ganesh are seen in almost every temple and also at the T-junctions to ward of the potu (potential hit area). During the Ganesh Chaturthi, people place idols of Lord Ganesha made up of plaster-of-paris and clay at the junction of the roads. The roads are blocked, as the leaders organising the events consider it as important and block the roads to gain the attention of their acts by the intensity of inconvenience caused to the people. People are compelled to think who is this guy blocking the road and how powerful he is to do so. The collection of the _chanda_ (donation) for the pandal, Ganesha idol and other expenses are borne by the same basti people. The people praying god or showing reverence need not be good people. For the budding leaders, the habit of collecting 'donations' now, and in the future asking for political donations becomes easy. Soon collecting money from the contractors, engineers for the works and corruption in all kinds of schemes become so habituated to them.

The leaders are not made by the printing of pictures on the flexi-sheets and hosting them at every street corner or at every electric pole. Such display of pictures is found more near the Ganesh pandals and religious places. They are so cheap in advertising themselves for no major achievements. People eliminate or select a person when applies for a job based on qualification, skills, knowledge and attitude. How come we select such idiotic people as our leaders. The fixers are not leaders. The followers of the leaders in today's world are all those who anticipate some favour based on their position and influence. Many present leaders are the potential candidates to go to jail at any time. There are various reasons for why they are yet not in jails.

We all have seen many politicians with the filthy mouth. They don't have any respect and decency. Nepotism is at the highest for the politicians. There is no school which teaches how the children should become future political leaders. Probably the failure of our education system is one of the results for the production of such indecent and idiotic leaders that we are bearing now. People are fed up with the current leadership and not able to see even a ray of hope of finding good leaders in the happening.

During the Bonalu festival, the loudspeakers volume was the loudest. Apart from praying god, many people are in a different mood of eating the non-veg food and drinking liquor the whole day. Some women also get ' _Shigam_ ,' \- it is a trance in which they dance with the rhythm of the drums, sometimes balancing a pot with offering for the Goddess on their head. Some men become _Pothu Rajulu_ or Male-buffalo Kings. They had a fearsome attire, a short red colour dhoti, two yellow colour thick ropes in both hands and _gajjalu_ \- a belt with small bells tied to the ankles and at the waist. The whole body was smeared with Turmeric. The red colour kumkum smeared on their forehead. The eyes are made darker with Kajal a traditional eyeliner. They also go to the temple dancing all the way with the rhythmic beat of the drums. Almost on every year during Bonalu at our place, it rained. Pochamma temple where the Bonalu was celebrated was about 100 meters from our house. Thottela is a bamboo sticks structure with transparent colour paper and stickers, they were offered by some people to the temple. At the end of the festival, we children used to go to the temple and collect these bamboo sticks and make Bow and arrows. By sticking some tamarind at the end of the arrows used to play. The transparent colour plastic papers are collected to see through - the things and everything appeared colourful.

During the special occasions, I attended special shows such as Harikatha, Burrakatha and Tolubommalata (Leather puppetry).

Bathukamma is the floral festival of Telangana. A great festival celebrated by the women. Different types of flowers are arranged in layers into a beautiful cone, it is called Bathukamma. From each family one or two such Bathukamma's are brought together into common places. Women sing and go in rounds by clapping their hands in rhythm. After playing for a few hours, the Bathukammas are immersed in the natural water bodies. As the water tank was very close to our house, all the Bathukamma's are brought from the basti for immersion near our house. The Bathukamma's floating on the water was so beautiful to see.

# B-Hostel

While studying at Osmania University M.Sc., Geography, I was staying at B-Hostel, now known as Krishnaveni Hostel. This is a historical hostel, where mostly the science students stayed. It is said the former prime minister Mr P. V. Narasimha Rao also stayed here and started the Vandemataram Movement for freedom from British Rule. It has students from all disciplines of science. Because of demand for space as more students were there, students need to adjust. Say in a small room three to four students stayed and in large size rooms up to ten students stayed. This is two storey building in triangular shape. The main entrance was very elegant. Some of my seniors from the PG College of Science Saifabad, Osmania University, were also staying in this hostel. A few of them were student leaders, representing the youth wings of many political parties. Although there were no student elections in the university during my time on the campus, the student leaders with affiliations to the political parties used to conduct some activities. Due to clashes between the student's unions in 1987-1988, including murders of some students, the elections in all the colleges were banned by the then State Government.

With the recommendation of my seniors, an outgoing student Mr Ramana Reddy was generous enough to give his cot in the hostel. With a nod from senior leaders Mr Kasam Venkateshwarlu and Mr Srinivas Reddy, I got the cot. This room was on the first floor, the rare side of the building. It had three beds, I was sharing with Mr Rajendra Prasad and Mr Murali.

Coming from IIT, Bombay, I was simple. After joining the college, I was wearing rubber slippers, jeans, and a T-shirt. I always kept a beard and never dyed my grey hair. Once my brother-in-law saw me at the entrance of the Arts College Building. He said that this is not IIT, this is Osmania University, you should wear a better dress and don't wear the slippers to the college. My habits from IIT did not change much. The university students used to wear mostly a white shirt, which is well ironed. Rarely they were wearing T-shirts to the college. A Reynolds white pen with blue cap, in the front pocket was the mark of a university student in general.

B-Hotel was dominant with ABVP students. In the hostel, I used to wear shorts, instead of Lungi, which most of the students were wearing in the hostel. The ABVP students did not like me wearing shorts. But wearing shorts was more comfortable for me than the lungi - it was uncontrollable for me. They had some regular activities. On one of the weekdays, they would organise Baitakh (means sitting in Hindi). Some students used to bash at the door and shout, 'Baitakh' so that all students from their respective rooms should go and attend. It was organised in the Television Room in one corner of the building in the ground-floor. The ABVP leaders used to give a lecture on some topic or party activities. Only once, I went there to see what it was like, I did not like the way it was organised. Although they used to invite, I ignored and never participated ever after. Some of the leaders' _chelas_ (blind followers) had a grudge, used to whistle and make cat calls behind me for provocation. I never minded and walked straight without turning back. As I did not respond nor reacted to their catcalls and whistles they felt insulted and never tried to provoke me again. Because the leaders knew me and my interest in studies, these _chelas_ did not bother much there after. I was preparing for the civil services competitive exam in those days. I always walked alone to the mess which was about 100 meters from Hostel and very rarely appeared in a group to be the cynosure of the leaders. Some of them who did not attend or heed to the leaders were bashed too. My room-mate Mr Rajendra Prasad was beaten seriously because he and his classmates from the Botany Department were independent and were not supportive and nor actively participating in the activities of ABVP. I was called by one of the ABVP leaders into their room, Mr Rajendra Prasad, was there sitting on the edge of a bed. His face was bent down and he was bleeding from the mouth. He was completely shaken and in shock. He was only pleading sorry to the few leaders standing in the room. I came to know that he along with his other friends were beaten by them before the Astronomy department and was later brought Mr Rajendra Prasad to this room. I was asked to accompany him to the hospital for treatment. Although they have beaten, they had the concern to take him to the hospital. I took him along with a few other junior leaders to the hospital. The doctor did not ask how he got hurt but gave an injection and medicines. Things were understood, everyone on the campus understood how and why problems happened in those days.

But in spite of contrasts, B-Hotel has given me so much energy and inspiration. The students from this hostel have achieved so many things in their later life.

Each hostel had its own mess, which means a hostel dining hall. Sambar prepared and served at B-Hostel was excellent. Every student loved the sambar. Nobody demanded curry if sambar was provided. Rice and sambar were the basic items on the menu. It was like intoxication and addiction. Once in a year, a lizard or cockroach lands in the sambar by accident. The students' fury goes up to abusing and beating the staff of the hostel mess. The hostel used to be closed for a few days and reopens again. It is still vivid, the way students used to throw the food, plates, chairs and upturn the tables. Once I was witness to this situation. My life at B-Hostel always remained a memorable experience.

#  About the Author

Dr Sai Bhaskar Reddy Nakka is a multifaceted person with varied interests. Travelled extensively in parts of India and many other countries. Based on his intricate observations and understanding tries to bring change and development. Contributed in the areas of rural development, sustainability, environment, climate change, energy, agriculture and water. Has more than 100 innovations and designs declared them as open knowledge.

####  You can connect with me on:

     http://saibhaskar.com 
