Tulasi = sacred basil; dalamula che = with leaves, with the tender shoots (of Tulasi); samtOshamuga = happily, with joy; puujintu = I pray;
Sarasiiruha = lotus; punnaga = cork wood tree, tree jasmine; champaka = Magnolia champaca, సింహాచల సంపంగి; paaTala = paral (hindi); kuruvaka = December flowers, డిసెంబరు పూలు, Barleria cristata; karavira = oleander, గన్నేరు; mallika = jasmine; sugandha raja = tube rose; sumamul = flowers;
Palu maru = many times; chira kalamu = for a long time; para-matma (param + atma) = Cf. jeevatma and paramatma. (This leads to a long discussion about the Supreme Being in the Hindu tradition. Obviously we cannot name some thing without knowing fully its properties and characteristics. Some refer to it as the Supreme Spirit or soul of the universe. In one context Jiddu Krishnamurti called it The Ground. As many have aptly said, we can know only through a Guru. Only by knowing it intimately we can describe it properly.); padamulanu = feet, offer flowers to (at) the feet of Sri Rama; dhara(n) = on the earth; ivi = with these, with these flowers; oka paryaayamu = once, one time, at least once; dharmatmuni = righteous person, an exemplary person anchored in dharma; saketa = Ayodhya; pura = city; vaasuni = dweller; vara = the best, exemplary.
If I may wander in the clouds of beauty, music, art, and devotion with unwavering faith – a few vocalists or Carnatic singers think they’ve accomplished great things or scaled Himalayan heights after attracting large crowds, favorable critical applause, or huge collections. As my grand mother would say: “Those are just few worthless pebbles, however colorful they may be.” How could we compete with such composers like Annamayya or Tyagaraju? It is almost impossible, puts multiple demands on our skills and intellect. Because when Tyagayya composed this song, several factors went into its making: a) He knew each flower, its color, and fragrance. b) He touched each leaf, sepal, petal, and every string of flowers. c) When he offered the flowers to Sri Rama, he gave them (placed at His feet) with pure devotion and total dedication. d) Then, to top it all, he could spontaneously sing it with perfect tune, melody, and meaning. As they say, he lived it, the entire experience. Now this is not something a singer (a beginner or even an advanced vocalist) can easily imbibe by sitting in front of a teacher. And even that physical proximity has become rare now in the modern age, particularly the context (ambience) is exacerbated due to the current Corona virus. The distant duo – both the music teacher and the remote learner now sadly delude themselves in learning the (high) art. At best, the entire exercise is reduced to mimicry or parroting musical syllables without a true heartfelt feeling, sans authenticity, sans passion, sans inspiration.
But things in the past were not always like that. And even now the situation can come up really alive with vitality, beautiful to behold. Just try to hold a magnolia flower, a dahlia, a stargazer lily, or Tulasi shoot in the garden. At a recent Sarada puja event here, we witnessed more than one thousand fresh lotuses. They were all pinkish, just opening their lazy petals full of sublime bashful trepidation. This writer had seen first hand baskets full of aromatic leaves, cut flowers, and fruits during Vinayaka-chaturdhi festivals, during daily walks on the main street in east Godavari, during winters in Pusa Institute, and in places like Kadiyam near Rajahmundry. The local vendors or farmers would collect dozens of lilies and lotuses during major festivals. In the village many kids could tell the name of each flower, its color, and scent. We would walk miles to watch a kewra bloom or catch a Simhachalam champaka. Or we would climb the tall cannon ball tree for a single fresh flower. If I may digress a bit, I can narrate an interesting episode in my native town. We had a wealthy neighbor with silky lawns, water fountain, lily ponds, ferns, and gardens. His garden had almost every interesting flowering plant, shrub, and tree. The landlord used to perform daily puja with mounds of aromatic flowers – all grown in his own garden. Wealth or no wealth, it is rare to see some one admire flowers and diligently perform morning pujas at home with homegrown fresh flowers. You got to get a few bleeding bruises with roses or December flowers to appreciate the delicate petals and their sweet aroma. Next time you sing or hear this song, try to feel the scent of each flower mentioned here. Certainly that is the least we can do for this extraordinary Carnatic composer. It is the minimum we can do, before diving head down into the stream of pure bhakti.
(Copyright 2020 by the author)
