The people of Kerala, got to know the real treasure in the Sri Padmanabha Swami temple of Trivandrum very recently. Everyone knew there was tonnes of money involved and huge stacks of the yellow metal, in all forms and shapes, but no one was sure, how much of it really existed. The last time I read, (2 days back) it was 50,000 crores and still counting. My first reaction was of a profound sense of pride, everything else came later. The pride arose from the thought that the erst-while rulers of Travancore, the place which hosts my ancestral house was always considered the benevolent rulers and I felt proud to have my roots belong to that part of Kerala, which formed the erst-while Travancore. Read more about the treasures in the architectural marvel, the temple is, and got to know that the rulers had loaned from the temple treasury centuries back for many a natural calamity or famine and the loans were always paid back. These where benevolent rulers who understood, the exact meaning of paying your dues both to the Caesar and God. What made it more striking for me, was though being the Caesar, they understood everything was not theirs to be made own.
The money in the temple, which is heavily guarded now for all the right reasons quite easily is more than what the Kerala State treasury holds, maybe perhaps more than what the State treasure ever held in its lockers at one particular time. No wonder the white starched khadi clad leader and the one adorning the red-flag and the saffron brigade, all are so very keen to make a claim for the money belonging to Anantha Padmanabhan. The prodigal sons of independent India, of the united states of Kerala (I call it the United States of Kerala, cause for ever it was Travancore, Cochin and Malabar, the three little kingdoms that craved out their existence from the land Parusuram built with his axe and its been just a little over half a century, when these kingdoms were combined together and named Keralam after the coconut trees.) are losing sleep over what is to be done with the treasures discovered and how to get it withing their grasp for better enjoyment of the money for the masses. My foot, it stayed there all this while, because the Prodigal Sons of Independent India, never had the keys to the temple lockers, they were not sure what exactly did the locker hold or maybe they have been a little weary of Anandha Padmanabhan, the deity in Trivandrum.
What do you say about a person who steals from his own home? He is the lord or the crown prince of the household, everything in the home is his, but yet steals the goodies from home? If the innocence of childhood is making him want to steal to buy a rubber ball, I find it justifiable. If it is done at a moment of excitement during the youth, even that is acceptable, because that makes him only the Prodigal Son. But when you are old, when you are not a novice by any means, when the innocence of childhood left you ages back and yet you still resort to stealing, I would prefer call him a BASTARD. Because with the patriarchal nature profoundly found in the Indian Society, whatever is the dad's belong to the kids, but when you try steal from your home, you are actually portraying, you are a bastard. You don't believe that it is your dad, or it belongs to your home, because you basically are clueless about the chromosomes in your blood or the fact that they actually belonged to you in the first place even before stealing. What better word to call someone who doubts his lineage or is unsure of who exactly the Dad is, other than a BASTARD in all the glorified meaning the word holds.
On second thoughts, are the ones who is head deep in corruption and similar scams belonging to the same genes the bastards? I feel cheated, my thoughts cheated me. No they are not the bastards, but I am the BASTARD, because I believed in adult suffrage, I cast my votes, I helped find out a representative to represent me in the governance of my home. Yet, the representative, who has the role of a dad in the Indian society, who is supposed to safeguard the dear ones interests has abandoned me. He never felt that I too belong to his loins, but considered me not his own from the beginning and that lead to the stacking of money in all safe havens away from my reach. The money that ought to be for my bread and butter and better living conditions, were never given to me, because I didn't belong to the loins, I am a BASTARD.
Everything said, with the magnanimous things that the treasure in the temple of Trivandrum can fetch for the State of Kerala, I would want no part of it to go to the Cesar. Because every time, my representatives, got a stack of green in their hand, they conveniently forgot that I too am from their loins, I too belong to them, but what they instilled was the word 'BASTARD' over and over again into my head. Anandha Padnabhan, needs to be on the lookout for his treasures from the leprous decayed hands of the Dad, who has disowned me and made me a BASTARD to the world.