In the celestial plane, the source of Ganges is known as Mandakini. There it originated at the feet of Lord Vishnu. How can I forget the poignant moment in Vamana-avatara when Brahma hurriedly puts aside His creation tasks and attends to washing of (His own father’s) Vishunu’s feet when they pop up through the blue skies? Those feet almost looked like freshly opened pink lotuses with smudges of ‘pious soil’. There, we can say we see the first glimpses of the celestial source of Ganges. But up above in the upper skies, the precious water stream remained for a long time, a very long time, perhaps thousands of years. [In the scientific realm, think about the age (Cambrian?), weight, and water content of a large glacier somewhere in the Himalayas. Here, I am traveling simultaneously in two planes: 1) In the sacred religious plane and 2) the geophysical plane comprising the origins of Himalayas, the birth of Indian subcontinent, and the fertile land of upper India containing the Ganges and other rivers. The reader has to patiently follow all the descriptions and imaginations. There is a lot of marvelous beauty involved here. We are trying to transport ourselves into a most sublime state; we are trying to reach the Kailas mentally. After all, Siva is there!] Bhagiratha, the famed sage took arduous steps to bring that sacred water to the holy cities of upper India (Uttar Pradesh and Uttaranchal) and eventually to Howrah (Kolkata), the Sunderbans, and ultimately to the eastern sea (Bay of Bengal). In the legend (though I use the word legend for want of a better phrase, these narrations should not be construed as just “frivolous stories” as Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa had so eloquently instructed) then the Ganges goes into the under world; there it sanctifies the ashes of ‘sons of Sagara emperor’. Here we should remember one thing: The waters of Ganges become sacrosanct upon coming in contact with Lord Siva. If that is the case, then what is the point of ‘giving a bath’ to Lord Siva? Really. Ablutions to a Lord, who is holding the “Ganges” on His head with the crescent moon? That too while the moon is constantly pouring cool “amrita”? What can be more incongruous, meaningless act in such a situation? Yet, the Lord does not mind because He sees meaning in our little helpless acts of true bhakti. He even appreciated the spray of spittle from His most devoted bhakta, the Kannappa. Yet, the poet feels the inadequacy of bringing Ganga water to the Lord. How fortunate the poet in this context? In this stanza and in this song we are effortlessly compelled to solely concentrate on the Lord; it urges to make our acts to be pure, devoid of distraction, and see our limitations. The frogs and fishes in the river are in one instance helping the poet, yet in another moment they are all teasing the singer thus: “Be aware of your stupidity and limitation here.” How can we give sacred waters to the Lord? By uttering His name and by pouring a thimble-full of dirty water on the Linga, we are getting purified!
The Indian cow (gau) is thought to be a product of a prolonged yajna (Cf. Oblation); it was not a product of Brahma’s creation. When the young calf was suckling, accidentally a small jet of milk landed on the meditating Siva’s face. As He opened His eyes and glanced the calf smilingly – lo, it instantly turned into a reddish-brown calf. This breed of Indian cow is usually called as “Kapila-gau”. Sometimes it is referred as “aksha-aavu”. The milk of Indian cow is sacred and the milk of a brown Indian cow is even more sacred. There is a saying in Telugu, which translates as: “What is the use of a bucketful of donkey’s milk? Even a ladleful of brown cow’s milk is enough (as it is more precious).”
I’ve often observed closely the bee and flower system. Here I see the buzzing yellow bumble bee hopping from flower to flower on the spring rhododendrons. There are no crores of bees sucking nectar in this context, but a single bee spends numerous landings on the flowers - in a way contaminating all the flowers as the poet had observed in the song. The black bee (Xylocopa) is commonly seen in India, feeding on the flowers. The tummi (Drona-pushpi, ద్రోణ పుష్పి) is rather a very humble white flower and the plant grows in fields, roadside, and abandoned vacant lots. Though it is not prized for beauty or fragrance, it is very useful in Ayurvedic medicine and cooking (green leaves). Ganesa is fond of simple grass (దూర్వ యుగ్మమ్) clippings and Siva gets a garland of Tummi. Bhakti is truly mysterious! Copyright 2019 by the author
The Indian cow (gau) is thought to be a product of a prolonged yajna (Cf. Oblation); it was not a product of Brahma’s creation. When the young calf was suckling, accidentally a small jet of milk landed on the meditating Siva’s face. As He opened His eyes and glanced the calf smilingly – lo, it instantly turned into a reddish-brown calf. This breed of Indian cow is usually called as “Kapila-gau”. Sometimes it is referred as “aksha-aavu”. The milk of Indian cow is sacred and the milk of a brown Indian cow is even more sacred. There is a saying in Telugu, which translates as: “What is the use of a bucketful of donkey’s milk? Even a ladleful of brown cow’s milk is enough (as it is more precious).”
I’ve often observed closely the bee and flower system. Here I see the buzzing yellow bumble bee hopping from flower to flower on the spring rhododendrons. There are no crores of bees sucking nectar in this context, but a single bee spends numerous landings on the flowers - in a way contaminating all the flowers as the poet had observed in the song. The black bee (Xylocopa) is commonly seen in India, feeding on the flowers. The tummi (Drona-pushpi, ద్రోణ పుష్పి) is rather a very humble white flower and the plant grows in fields, roadside, and abandoned vacant lots. Though it is not prized for beauty or fragrance, it is very useful in Ayurvedic medicine and cooking (green leaves). Ganesa is fond of simple grass (దూర్వ యుగ్మమ్) clippings and Siva gets a garland of Tummi. Bhakti is truly mysterious! Copyright 2019 by the author
No comments:
Post a Comment