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@Fun12 - Interview with His Highness

 

Interview with His Highness



The riches belong to nobody, certainly not to our family'
The head of a former royal family renounced any personal claim to billions of dollars' worth of ancient treasure discovered in a temple in Thiruvanantharam, the kingdom his ancestors once ruled. Padma Rao Sundarjispeaks to Uthradam Thirunal Marthanda Verma, the former King of Tranvancore.
PRS: What is your family's connection with the Padmanabhaswamy temple?
Varma: We are the Cheras, one of the four erstwhile royal families of South India and have a long and dynastic family tree. By 1750 Travancore had become rich and big. So my ancestor, the then king, made a unique spiritual and historical contribution. He decided to surrender all his riches to the temple - Padmanabhaswamy is also our family deity. He said our family would look after that wealth, the temple and the kingdom forever. But he did want the ego that comes with possessing it. He was influenced by Emperor Ashoka's catharsis in the killing fields of Kalinga. So he declared our family to be Padmanabha's 'dasas', devotees. A servant can resign his job, but a dasa can do so only when he dies.

PRS: You are one of the wealthiest families in India and yet, you live in a spartan way, unlike many other ex-royals. Why?
Varma: I have to go back a bit in time, to explain why. Everybody thinks that we Indians first rose against British colonial rule in 1857. Wrong. In 1741, Travancore was the only Asian power to defeat the Dutch when they arrived here. After the battle, all the Dutch soldiers kneeled before my ancestors. One Dutchman, Benedictus Eustachius, even joined our army. We called him the Great Kapitan. Later, I learned that he was [US president] Franklin Roosevelt's ancestor when the latter's grandson came to look at our historical records.
Then in 1839, almost two decades before the mutiny, we rose against the British. Our punishment was severe. They disbanded our police and army of 50,000, transferred our capital to Kollam, dumped two British regiments on us, and ordered us to pay for their upkeep. Thomas Munroe named himself Diwan of Travancore. When our spirit still did not flag, they brought in missionaries. But we did not get gobbled up by Western thought. We travel abroad occasionally, but it has not affected or changed our simple way of life. Why am I telling you this? So that you get an idea of how much our life has revolved around our faith, despite so many outside influences and kept us going.

PRS: How do you feel about what is happening around the temple right now - its cellars being opened up, your donations being discussed around the world, the criticism, the furore?
Varma: Sorry, I cannot comment on what is happening there - the matter is sub-judice. But this much I will say. I have no problem with the inventory and additional security being provided by the state to the temple. But please don't remove those objects from the temple. They belong to nobody, certainly not to our family. They belong to god and our law permits that. All these debates swirling around the riches is unfortunate. That's all I can say - I have to listen to my doctor, lawyer and auditor. Our family has been donating objects to the temple for centuries. As chief patron of the temple, I go there every day. If I miss a day, I am fined Rs 166.35 - an old Travancore tradition.

PRS: But you cannot deny that such wealth could be put to better use for the poor.
Varma: We Indians are more educated now. But this reaction to donations inside a temple is anything but progressive. We are slowly losing our Indian identity. Money has become everything. But I am not surprised. I would rather be philosophical than disillusioned because I can't change the world.

PRS: Then there is the rationalist argument that this is blind faith.
Varma: Please think of England's Henry VIII in the late 1500s. He had two passions. Wives and money. So he pillaged churches. Finally, he ran into a problem because he wanted a divorce from Catherine of Aragon. The church refused, because she was a zealous Spanish Catholic. His cardinal advised him to invent his own church. So he did that - just to get a divorce. Is that rational?
It is rather difficult to explain our faith to the new world where people have none anymore. When selfishness grows, everything you do seems right, and everything others do seems wrong. It's all about what do I get, not about what do I do. I like the memory of my trip to a game reserve South Africa. After seeing many wild animals, I asked the guide which was the most rapacious and fearsome. He showed me a mirror.

PRS: What is your source of income? What does your family live off ?
Varma: We have travel and hotel businesses. I am chairman of a former British company that exports various items from Kerala - but no, not pepper to Buckingham Palace, as reported. We also run seven trusts. We spend R5-8 lakh a year on education, health and housing for the poor. We pay good salaries. And the family itself contributes money every month. No government has acknowledged our work but that is all right. We do it because we want to do it.

PRS: Gold statues studded with rubies and diamonds, saphhires, gold coins of the Napoleonic era and the East India Company. Is all that true?
Varma: I have never been inside those cellars. Our philosophy has always been not to look at such objects and get tempted. But of course I know what is inside them.

PRS: Are the younger members of your family angrier than you about the heated public debate?
Varma: I am the most hot-blooded in this family but on this matter, we all feel the same. I was a soldier - a colonel for 15 years in the Madras Regiment. I would like to ask those criticizing us for donating these objects: why are they bothered about what someone else has done? What are they doing in the name of faith themselves ? Why the hot gossip over a donation to God?

PRS: At 90, you don't even use a walking stick. What is your daily routine ?
Varma: We have all been brought up very strictly and frugally. My day starts at 4 am with yoga. I only drink milk, I am a vegetarian and a teetotaler. I read the Vedas everyday. I go the temple for a ten-minute private audience with the deity every morning. After that, I indulge in one of my hobbies - "media surgery." I read the newspapers and clip articles over breakfast. I have a collection of the past 30 years. I will give those to the Trust because my children may not be interested. People come to meet me, they invite me to inaugurate functions. I speak extempore. I go from vertical to horizontal for about 20 minutes in the afternoon. I am in bed by 945. I have always slept well. Since there is nothing on my conscience, sleep comes swiftly.

PRS: Are you now thinking of insuring those treasures, now that the whole world is talking about them, or are they already insured ?
Varma: (laughs) I am least worried that they will be stolen. If that happens, then it was the Lord's will.

PRS: Among your ancestors were famous Carnatic musician Swati Thirunal and painter Raja Ravi Varma. What are your passions?
Varma: Those two ancestors gave music and art divinity and humanity respectively. That continues. I love art. I once saw a piece of exquisite china in Venice. It was a girl on a swing with the sand looking worn just where her feet touched the ground each time. It cost 100 pounds, I could only afford 40, as foreign exchange was limited those days. So I went away. The dealer called me back and gave it to me. He said he could tell that I was not one of those who ordered 200 pieces of one kind, that I valued minute details.

PRS: Kerala has been a Communist bastion for more than 50 years. Don't you find it peculiar that people here still flurry around you, they respect you, they still call you Your Highness.
Varma: Yes, that is quite amazing because I am a simple man, I don't expect it at all. At religious gatherings in Haridwar where one of my two gurus lives, I always sit in the last row and am always dressed like this - mundu and bush-shirt. People who don't know me come looking for the Raja of the South. When I raise my hand, they don't believe me.

PRS: How wealthy is your family, compared to the other - and internationally more famous - royals of Rajasthan and elsewhere?
Varma: That is a mere technicality and has never been relevant to me. But I'll tell you a story which will give you an idea. There used to be a British gun salute for the princely states of India: 21, the highest for the richest ruler, 11 for the poorest. When Tranvancore refused to contribute soldiers to the British Army in World War I, our slipped from 21 to 19.

PRS: Who is your heir?
Varma: We have a matriarchal system of inheritance. I have a daughter and a son but it is my sister's son who will be king after me. I remember a European lady visiting us. I explained this complicated law of succession to her. When she went back, she told her friends that she had not understood a word, but only knew that whatever it was, it was good for women. Kerala is slowly turning patriarchal again. That is not good. Overall in our country, we treat women as second-class citizens. When you look at a man, you are looking at a human being, when you look at a woman, you are looking at a family.

PRS: What is the feeling you get, when you spend those ten minutes at the Padmanabha shrine ? The daily communion between ruler and master, as you put it ?
Varma: Gooseflesh. Everything is surrendered. It is a great, elating feeling. My hair stands on end with joy. Each and every time.
(Padma Rao Sundarji is South Asia bureau chief of Der Spiegel)

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@Fun12 - Love Vs Marriage

@Fun12 - The amazing camel - Only God could have created him

 

 

The Amazing Camel and It's Creator

If you ever doubted that God exists, Meet the Very Technical, Highly Engineered Dromedary Camel.



When I'm hungry, I'll eat almost anything - A leather bridle, a piece of rope, my master's tent, Or a pair of shoes.

My mouth is so tough a thorny cactus doesn't bother it.
I love to chow down grass and other plants That grow here on the Arabian desert

I'm a dromedary camel, the one-hump kind That lives on hot deserts in the Middle East.

My hump, all eighty pounds of it, Is filled with fat-my body fuel-not water as some people believe.
My Mighty Maker gave it to me because He knew I wouldn't always be able to find food As I travel across the hot sands.
When I don't find any chow, my body automatically Takes fat from the hump, feeds my system, And keeps me going strong.
This is my emergency food supply.



If I can't find any plants to munch, my body uses up my hump.
When the  hump gets smaller, it starts to tip to one side. But when I get to a nice oasis and begin to eat again, My hump soon builds back to normal.

I've been known to drink twenty-seven gallons of water in ten minutes.
My Master Designer made me in such a fantastic way that In a matter of minutes all the water I've swallowed Travels to the billions of microscopic cells that make up my flesh.



Naturally, the water I swallow first goes into my stomach. There thirsty blood vessels absorb and carry it to every part of my body.
Scientists have tested my stomach and found it empty Ten minutes after I've drunk twenty gallons.

In an eight hour day I can carry a four hundred pound load A hundred miles across a hot, dry desert And not stop once for a drink or something to eat.
In fact, I've been known to go eight days without a drink, But then I look a wreck.
I lose 227 pounds, my ribs show through my skin, And I look terribly skinny.
But I feel great! I look thin because the billions of cells lose their water. They're no longer fat. They're flat.



Normally my blood contains 94 percent water, just like yours.
But when I can't find any water to drink, The heat of the sun gradually robs a little water out of my blood.
Scientists have found that my blood can lose up to 40 percent of its water, and I'm still healthy.

Doctor's say human blood has to stay very close to 94 percent water.
If you lose 5 percent of it, you can't see anymore; 10 percent, you can't Hear and you go insane; 12 percent, your blood is as thick as molasses And your heart can't pump the thick stuff. It stops, and you're dead.

But that's not true with me.
Why?
Scientists say my blood is different.
My red cells are elongated. Yours are round. Maybe that's what makes the difference

This proves I'm designed for the desert, Or the desert is designed for me.
Did you ever hear of a design without a Designer?

After I find a water hole, I'll drink for about ten minutes And my skinny body starts to change almost immediately.
In that short time my body fills out nicely, I don't look skinny anymore, And I gain back the 227 pounds I lost.



Even though I lose a lot of water on the desert, My body conserves it too.
Way in the beginning when my intelligent Engineer made me, He gave me a specially designed nose that saves water.
When I exhale, I don't lose much.
My nose traps that warm, moist air from my lungs And absorbs it in my nasal membranes.



Tiny blood vessels in those membranes take that back into my blood.
How's that for a recycling system? Pretty cool, isn't it.
It works because my nose is cool.
My cool nose changes that warm moisture in the air from my lungs into water.

But how does my nose get cool?
I breath in hot dry desert air, And it goes through my wet nasal passages.
This produces a cooling effect, and my nose stays as much as 18 degrees cooler than the rest of my body.

I love to travel the beautiful sand dunes.
It's really quite easy, because My Creator gave me specially engineered sand shoes for feet.
My hooves are wide, and they get even wider when I step on them.
Each foot has two long, bony toes with tough, leathery skin between my soles, are a little like webbed feet.



They won't let me sink into the soft, drifting sand.
This is good, because often my master wants me to carry him one hundred miles across the desert in just one day. (I troop about ten miles per hour.)

Sometimes a big windstorm comes out of nowhere, bringing flying sand with it.
My Master Designer put special muscles in my nostrils that close the openings, keeping sand out of my nose but still allowing me enough air to breathe.

My eyelashes arch down over my eyes like screens, keeping the sand and sun out but still letting me see clearly.
If a grain of sand slips through and gets in my eye, the Creator took care of that too.
He gave me an inner eyelid that automatically wipes the sand off my eyeball just like a windshield wiper.

Some people think I'm conceited because I always walk around with my head held high and my nose in the air.

But that's just because of the way I'm made.
My eyebrows are so thick and bushy I have to hold my head high to peek out from underneath them.
I'm glad I have them though. They shade my eyes from the bright sun.



Desert people depend on me for many things.
Not only am I their best form of transportation, but I'm also their grocery store.
Mrs. Camel gives very rich milk that people make into butter and cheese.
I shed my thick fur coat once a year, and that can be woven into cloth.
A few young camels are used for beef, but I don't like to talk about that.

For a long time we camels have been called the "ships of the desert" because of the way we sway from side to side when we trot.
Some of our riders get seasick.

I sway from side to side because of the way my legs work.
Both legs on one side move forward at the same time, elevating that side.
My "left, right left, right" motion makes my rider feel like he is in a rocking chair going sideways.



When I was six months old, special knee pads started to grow on my front legs.
The intelligent Creator knew I had to have them. They help me lower my 1000 pounds to the ground.



If I didn't have them, my knees would soon become sore and infected, and I could never lie down.
I'd die of exhaustion.



By the way, I don't get thick knee pads because I fall on my knees.
I fall on my knees because I already have these tough pads.
Someone very great thought of me and knew I needed them He designed them into my genes.
 
It's real difficult for me to understand how some people say I evolved into what I now am.
I'm very technical, highly engineered dromedary camel.
Things like me don't just happen.



They're planned on a drawing board by Someone very brilliant, Someone very logical.

Do you know HIM?





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