The Pesky Rotator Cuff Joint (బంతి గిన్నె కీలు)

 The Pesky Rotator Cuff Joint

(బంతి గిన్నె కీలు)

Symptoms

నిజముగా ఆరోగ్యము మహా భాగ్యము! There were many objective symptoms. It was painful to wear/remove a jacket, long sleeve shirt, or T-shirt quickly. Putting a towel on a line to dry was difficult. Even just pushing a light lunch box on the (car) rear seat would trigger a sharp pain through the shoulder. Driving long distance with the affected hand on steering wheel used to produce prolonged pain for hours. Shifting sides, turning the head on pillow, quickly getting up with the injured hand as a vertical prop (support) – they all became proscribed activities for a long time. The funny thing, yes, it is hilarious now that the problem has been resolved, is still the hand performed most of the movements even in this chronic injured state. Though grudgingly. Luckily, on most painful days fomentation with a wet towel (just one minute microwave heating is enough) and rubbing topical cream kept the problem in check. Only in extreme pain, ibuprofen was used, that too in a very moderate dose (just 300 mg once or twice a day). Would a prolonged intake of higher dose (600 mg of ibuprofen) have cured?

Recovery

In the beginning, physical therapy (PT) was prescribed. Though the subject went through all the drills of daily exercise, hot packs, etc., it did not help. To prevent further deterioration of the joint, PT was withdrawn. At that point, the only medicines used were: over the counter ibuprofen and a prescribed topical cream (sort of muscle relaxant). Daily application of Maha-Narayana Tailam (Dabur, Baidyanath) followed by gentle fomentation was used with external massaging. It helped, but the effect lasted only ten, twelve hours.

The big breakthrough came from the traditional Yoga. Thousand salutations and prostrations to the great Patanjali, a multifaceted rishi whom I consider as my own great grandfather. The Sanskrit saying goes thus: “Faith yields fruitful results”. So, with total faith in our traditional yoga, with no outside help (or teacher), the subject did yoga¹ exercises (Surya-nakaskaram) twice a day. At first, these were the gentle stretching poses, facing the East. No force was used. You lift the arm only as high as it allows. Everyone wants rapid progress, but the body has its own natural pace of things. It all depends on many factors – severity of the injury, general state of health, even the mental equilibrium, etc.  Slow recovery teaches us a sense of humility, perseverance, and a great respect for the physical body. We value a joint, a gland, or even skin only when it malfunctions. Till then, we take everything for granted, not only that we even venture to abuse it. 

            Thus, in this case, the subject used either singly or in combination the following treatment techniques: During daily walking, placing hands on the back (for example, look at old classic photos of Nehru walking on the lawn). Try forming the following postures with hands clasped behind: shape of X, 4, or U. When possible give the afflicted shoulder, mild exercises of Surya-nakaskaram twice a day. At least once a day is needed for any noticeable improvement.

            This is the third or fourth time Yoga came to the rescue. Earlier, the gentle yoga (particularly the Sarvanga-asana) helped bringing back the normal functioning of a gland. Much of the present day hype and attention of yoga is unfortunately catered to rich clientele. But the original yoga proponents were more interested in preserving body and mental health through a properly controlled stretching and breathing exercises. Instead of (mechanical) springs and weights, yoga uses the body’s own physiology to correct the injury. It is much more gentle than many physical therapy exercises. There is no need for expensive yoga paraphernalia like special mat, sack, big books with colorful photos etc. Nor is there any need for expensive teachers (coaches, gurus) with exorbitant club fees; in the age-old Indian tradition, there was never any compulsory fee. Neither for learning music, dance, or yoga; nor has any Ayurvedic (or herbal) practitioner demanded up front payment for medicines. Erudite teachers rarely asked money from indigent students – whether it is for Ayurveda, music, yoga, or scriptures. The modern world has totally degraded this once glorious tradition, a veritable treasure of holistic healing knowledge. How far things have deteriorated in the name of commerce and global reach!

            When performing the whole body toning Sarvanga-asana was difficult, so the subject opted for other asanas (ex: Dhanura-asana, Bhujanga-asana, Hala-asana). But upon recovering fully (or about 90%), the subject resumed the Sarvanga-asana in total earnest. Of course after full recovery the subject was able to do even pull-ups on the horizontal bar.

            This write-up is no substitute for medical advice. Often in the real world, many patients cannot access expensive treatments, surgeries, or costly specialists. Valuable lives are wasted due to a frozen shoulder or a locked knee. Money alone cannot produce good outcomes. Even with very minimal expense, one can get back a working shoulder. Patience, daily regular topical massaging, and gentle yoga exercises will yield remarkable progress. And such a progress is certainly more durable in the longer time frame. It must also be remembered by all that health is a complex issue; it has a strong psychosomatic component. But what matters finally is happiness and a living that is free of pain.

Finally, each patient has to explore all possible avenues and costs for a cure. For those who have the patience to heal themselves, this information will help; it may present a ray of hope. I thank my high school drill (PT instructor) master (Mr. Raju) for teaching yoga-asanas to our class at a very tender age. I have also benefited from a Telugu yoga book – a slim volume with all the asanas in black and white photographs. I cannot recall its author or title now, but I must express my gratitude to my cousin(s) for the invaluable book. That was decades before I came across the English yoga books by Sri. B.K.S. Iyengar and Swami Vishnudevananda. 

Copyright 2015 by the author

1. Plates 1, 2, 3, 12, 24 in “Light on Yoga” by B. K. S. Iyengar, Schocken, 1994

2. Surya-namaskarams are found in “The Completed Illustrated Book of Yoga” by Swami Vishnudevananda, Pocket Books, New York 1972  

Translation of "Muddugare Yasoda" Song

Muddu gare Yasoda (ముద్దు గారె యశోద)

Like a pearl (1), dripping with love

He (Krishna) wanders

On the front porch of Yasoda

With flawless wonders

This son of Devaki

Here, amidst the cowherds

He is readily accessible as a ruby (2) on the palm

Towards the stubborn antagonist Kamsa

He acts like a sharp diamond (3)

He shines like an emerald (4)

Radiating colors throughout the three worlds

He is the little Krishna by our side

(He is the little Krishna in our hearts)

For the amorous Rukmini

He is the One with the coral (5) lips

(While subduing Indra’s pride)

He lifted the Govardhana mount

Standing firm as (banded) agate (6)

As Lord Vishnu

He is eternally decorated with the cat’s eye (7)

Between the conch-shell and the discus

The last refuge for all of us

The lotus-eyed One

On the heads of Kalinga snake

He stands as a bright topaz (8)

He rules the Seven Hills as a sapphire (9)

Outside the Milky Ocean

He appears as the celestial precious stone

He roams around as a (innocent) boy

The Lord with the lotus in His navel

[In Sanskrit there are nine precious gems. Here in this lyric the legendary composer Annamacharya had used all the nine gems and their qualities for describing Lord Vishnu and the Krishna-avatara. This English translation is expressly meant for the dancers (Kuchipudi and Bharatanatyam) and the upcoming aspiring Carnatic singers. Though a novice singer starts out with mere technical (tune, tempo, etc.) skills, eventually she must master the meaning of each word and the original intent of the poet/composer; without such in-depth knowledge, the singer would not know where to pause, which phrase to emphasize, and how to distinguish the ka, ca, ta, tha, pa from their aspirated consonants kha, cha, … Ultimately all great music (or poetry) recital must spring forth from the true heart. Otherwise the artist enters a state of stasis - soon, despite a plethora of awards and hefty emoluments, his renderings will fall flat, fall short of the perfection.]

Copyright 2015 by the author

Apt Punishment (Short Story)

Apt Punishment

           

            Once upon a time there was an illiterate, uneducated king. After all, across the entire world, how many Kings are like  Bhoja (a contemporary of Kalidasa)? (Legend has it that just looking at King Bhoja, even an ordinary weaver was able to spin poetry on the spur of the moment. Not entirely surprising given the fact that King Bhoja was an embodiment of Devi Saraswati.) As it happens with most rulers, the king was ignorant, too arrogant to recognize his own ignorance. Most of his advisers were also stupid, no wonder there. The innocent people bore the brunt of such an unwise ruler. They, like all captive subjects toiled their lives to pay high taxes. Among the court advisers, there was one pseudo-scholar. How it came to be, no one knew exactly, but he was known to all as “Kata-Kata Sastri[1]”. The king liked him very much and he used to consider him as the best scholar in the whole of India.

            Being ignorant of books, languages, or science is no sin, per se. But excessive vanity or jealousy can lead to great troubles. In those times, most kings used to entertain open court proceedings. They would invite scholars from neighboring kingdoms for open scholarly competitions. Such intellectual deliberations can range from logic, philosophy, linguistics, astronomy, to literature. In an ideal time, there were learned kings like Krishnadevaraya, himself a scholar of four languages. Thus, the host king used to be very impartial in judging each scholar’s arguments. The winning scholar was felicitated with money, jewels, titles, gold, and dresses.

            Following such regal traditions, our king also entertained many foreign scholars in his court. Invariably, all the visiting scholars were treated badly by the arrogant  Katakata Sastri. Often they would leave the court room totally dejected, in utter bewilderment, with painful tears in eyes. Alas, what is the use of showing intellectual talents in front of an illiterate audience? As they say, casting pearls before swine! The king enjoyed these intellectual charades because his trustworthy courtier feigned to win, rather put up a show of winning, yea winning all the time, winning against all opponents. If the topic was literature, the court pundit would eloquently concoct some gibberish poetry sans any meaning, but still with high sounding rhymes and meter. 

            Once a very learned scholar entered the court. He was well versed in scriptures, philosophy, languages, and literature.  A recipient of many titles and awards. People called him “Sankara Sastri Siddhanti”. The visiting Sankara Sastri requested the king for a scholarly debate with his courtiers. Katakata Sastri too was itching for a debate for quite some time. So, the whole court was anxious to see one more drama of intellectual fight and high-flown arguments. In any fight, uncertainty (of outcome) adds to the tension.

            The beginning was very ordinary. Beguilingly innocent like the calm sky before a major (snow)storm. The guest scholar started with a proposition, a declaratory statement: “adhato, brahma jijnasa[2]” [అధాతో బ్రహ్మ జిజ్ఞాస (1.1.1)]. In a very simple language, the statement means: After certain preparatory actions (sadhana), ultimately one must make genuine effort to enquire about Brahman. In certain Indian cities (ex: Varanasi), debates and discussions used to follow well established protocols. They still do in some Buddhist monasteries too. There is always an impartial judge, overseeing the proceedings. Ample time is given to each participant to present a valid rebuttal, explanation, and counter arguments. Most important is one simple requirement: After listening to the visiting scholar’s statement (proposition), the local scholar was required first to restate and elaborate the “opening statement”. Such a requirement, though it sounds simple, frivolous was mandatory. It was instituted to avoid any accidental misunderstanding. The whole proceeding was guided to follow strict logic. So, in this present situation, ideally Kata Kata Sastri was supposed to first clarify the meaning behind the opening statement: “Let there be (henceforth) an enquiry about Brahman”. But no, our court pundit acted more like a jester. He started rattling of like, “stick jijnasa, drum enquiry, tumbler enquiry, brick enquiry, head enquiry, wall enquiry, with mix of Telugu and Sanskrit words. And on and on, it went on without any comma or period. Kata-Kata Sastri took almost thirty minutes. There was no hesitation in his vocals; but there was no meaning to his utter stupid statements. The entire court was spell bound. And of course the idiotic king was swelling with pride about his courtier and his apparent brilliance. Meanwhile, Nilakantha was totally surprised; he calmly looked at the whole court and the entire affair with total surprise. There was nothing he could do in such a terrible unjust environment. The buffoon king with his attendant nincompoops were all one side, he with whatever erudition on the other side. There was no bridge that could cover the vast span of knowledge, nay, say that again, the vast expanse of ignorance. Yet he remained calm and watched the entire spectacle with patience.

            Soon, the king and his sycophants were filled with happiness; their pundit like before won. They all waited for a victory parade. The king came down and presented Kata Kata Sastri a coral necklace, a gold chain, and a bag of sovereigns. There were hilarious shouts, complimentary hails, and the whole court reverberated with slogans: “Victory to our Kata Kata Sastri and victory to our beloved king”. Everyone except the king was getting ready for procession through the main roads – all to celebrate the ill-gotten victory. Then, without any hint, suddenly, the king witnessed a strange thing. There in front of him, the visitor went to meet the pseudo-pundit. Unexpectedly, Nilakantha bent and fell at Sastri’s feet showing utmost reverence.  “Please, please Sir, just one and only one”. Saying the visitor plucked a tiny hair from Sastri’s right foot. And then he tied the little hair strand in his upper garment (anga-vastram). And with that simple act, the visitor started to leave. “Not, yet,” uttering those words, the king beckoned Nilakantha.

“What did you collect? What are you taking with you?”

“Nothing Sire, just a hair. See Sir, I travel the entire country alone. Through hills, valleys, dense forests. Often I encounter wicked spirits, snakes, violent tigers, wicked dacoits,  and many mean people. I have no protection. Your resident scholar brings victory and auspiciousness to everyone around. So, I just took one small hair from his right foot. This little sacred keratin fiber will protect from any and every evil.”

“Is it so,” the king thundered. Suddenly a lightning idea struck him. He thought aloud, “Minister, why are we wasting our valuable wealth on police and city security? Let us instead give one hair to each household. It will protect them from every evil, calamity, thievery, and misfortune. The whole country will be safe and prosperous in no time.”

Immediately the king called all his guards and ordered them to collect all hairs of Kata Kata Sastri. Woe befell on the poor Kata Kata Sastri.

(Translator's Note: This story was originally in Telugu, it was a prose selection for us in grade (4th or 5th) school. I forgot about the author’s name. Nevertheless, I still want to convey my gratitude for writing such an excellent short story. The original Telugu short story has a profound meaning, a subtle moral lesson, and unique sound embedded in its paragraphs. My understanding of it improved gradually with years. On a first reading, many would invariably get it wrong. But I won’t spoil the fun of it – let the reader find out its true essence, the real fragrance. I would certainly rank this short story on par with any number of first rate short stories, in any language English, French, or Japanese.)

Copyright 2015 by the author

---

[1] The reader should not to jump to conclusions about the name or its significance. I mean no disrespect to any Sastri, Varma, or Sarma, etc. No implied or explicit malice is meant. This is the name I remember from the original Telugu story, read several  decades back. 

[2] From Brahma Sutras. For an introduction see the Telugu work by Swami Medhanandapuri at Bhakti website.

Srisailam - Part II

Srisailam – Part II

Through out the stay, I was very alert to the sacredness of the place. An invisible current of great power flows underneath these hills. The visual signs of high voltage transmission lines and the waterfalls - these may represent just a fraction of the total power (Sakti) present in these Nallamalla forests. Many a great soul wandered on these paths – from Adi Sankara, the local tribal devotees, Akkamma Devi, and to even our dear parents. And many must have prayed on these gentle rolling hills. The renowned Paramacharya did his meditations here, on a spot where the incomparable instructor Adi Sankara had done dhyan hundreds, if not thousands of years back. Visitors can see the precincts of a Kanchi Kamakoti Mutt with Sivalinga, beautifully laid on the temple campus.

During our brief two day sojourn here, I came across a few incidents that remained etched in my consciousness. When on one morning, a lady prostrated on the path to the temple (I think near Sri Krishna Devaraya Gopuram), I felt humbled instantly: I wondered, oh, I could not equal her devotion and humility. The entire land, trees, water, air and the temple walls including the majestic gates, everything concealed a mystical auspiciousness. One  gets similar feelings while walking on the hills of Tirumalai. Next time I must remind myself to walk barefoot on these precious holy paths. The writer witnessed such instances of barefoot walking in Madurai also. On the periphery wall here, you can see a number of Siva stories, engraved picturesquely. To feel it, I needed only a peaceful mind, pure heart, and not the outer external eyes, but the calmer gentle inner eye. Then, a fleeting thought: To a great enlightened saint or to Siva, there is no “impure thing” in this world. It was Trilingaswamy (actually he had been called by many a name, what an uplifting thought - I too was born in the same Telugu land) who in his inimitable compassionate way had showed that there was no difference between freshly cut flowers and amedhyamu. But, sadly, we, the lesser human beings always notice the purely peripheral, external appearances on a road, sidewalk, or path, often we find them distracting from the vast holiness. For our eyes, only cigarette buts, spillage of coffee on the road, sputum, or biological waste appear, often jarring the beauty of the land. Of course, since everything is sacred on this earth, it is incumbent on everyone to keep the surroundings as clean as possible. Yet, one must not fall into the trap of mistakenly identifying the purely external cleanliness with “the real sacred”. If that were the case, countless hospital wards or presidential palaces  can claim to be the places of “celestial holiness”. Both beauty and sacredness are certainly beyond the outer physical appearances or beyond the glittering artificial external opulence.

Like many devotees I too went into the inner sanctum, holding carefully a partially opened plastic bottle with kewra water. I tried my best to hold it intact till I reached the arupi-rupa. Alas, due to a jerk, maybe a slight push from a friendly devotee, my hand trembled and I spilled the perfume on the floor. I felt a tad sad reflexively, but now as I recollect – perhaps, that too was preordained. The Lord understood my innocent mistake, but here is a Mahadeva, the great Lord of Lords (Deva-Deva), who accepted the misbehaved kewra too into His lap. What a great compassionate Deva? Even when He gave punishment to any human being or devata, that punishment too turned into a kind of boon. O Lord, please just let me dwell on you, perhaps through umpteen stupid mistakes and endless repeated falls, I may reach you. Your gaze is alone enough for me to lighten my weighty burdens on the earth.

We stayed in a simple choultry. Two meals are served piping hot freely to all pilgrims. Simple vegetarian meals. But the meals were very tasty and a sweet dish was also served. I still remember the mouth-watering Dondakayi (Coccinia grandis) chutney. Also, hot water for bath is provided to the guests at a nominal cost. Of course, a simple south Indian breakfast (idli, dosa, and coffee) too is available on the premises.

Having got used to warm showers at home, bracing for an early morning cold water bath, that too in the chilly wee hours is not easy for me – I still tremble at the thought. Though in summer occasionally I endure bone-chilling yet utterly exhilarating cold showers here in the northeast. Who else can understand the mundane troubles of ordinary children? Except a mother, like the Jillellamudi Amma. Years ago, when an elderly Setty wanted to leave her ashram the same evening, due to the lack of hot bath water on the premises, the kind Mother intervened. “Dear Nanna, please stay here tonight.” How could he express his weakness for hot water showers? That too when all the other ashram visitors take cold water bath?  With age one becomes cautious about the mortal body habits and comforts. Some may get chills with cold water bath or develop fevers upon contact with cold water. Any change in physical exercise, food, or bath (hot or cold) should be done slowly progressively. So, the kind Amma arranged for a steaming water on the tap for her faithful devotee next morning out of nowhere. When the Supreme Mother could dictate time dilation, what is so difficult in creating hot water?

Perhaps the hilly Lord remembered my humble village childhood days. Those daily trips to the Godavari stream, to the village tank, or the well in our compound. He excused my infractions and provided a warm bath during our stay here at the inn. Still I feel a bit guilty, for sacrificing the sacred tree stumps for providing hot water – that too for providing comfort to this insignificant devotee. I try not to cut down even a dead tree in our garden – for it too is providing a cozy shelter to the pileated woodpeckers and the crawling insect families. The making of hot water, the tall steel drum, the forest firewood, and the staff of the inn – they all reminded my formative years in my native town, a bustling town very well known for its famous Siva temple. In those days, out of town travelers used to get two buckets of hot water for two quarters! The only difference between the two situations is – now the water is boiled in a steel drum, earlier we would heat the water in a large copper vessel (desa డేసా ).

When I was about to enjoy the prasadam (tamarind rice పులిహోర ), a gentle bull came over for its share. He too was very hungry and could not wait any longer. I was klutzy with my fingers, hurriedly trying to remove the plastic cover, lest it may hurt the bovine. Finally I gave her two small packs of the tasty rice. I recall similar incident in the coastal town. There, in the old days, bulls used to roam around our streets with complete freedom and abandon. No one would hit them as they were considered a form of nandi; many restaurants used to happily give them food, vegetables, and water. Except for a rare incident or two, mostly the bulls used to live happily amidst the humans. That single act of love towards cows certainly contributed to the town’s progress and prosperity. And prosperity in all spheres: Commerce, finance, culture, and education.

When we were just standing near one of the temple entrances, a young lady showed up with a steel tiffin carrier and asked for a small donation. She wanted to feed ten people – a breakfast with dosa and chutney. For hundred fifty rupees. Innocently I said to her, “Please you serve them yourself and you reap the punya.” Because I felt a little embarrassed about the rather insignificant gesture.  Now as I ponder intuitively, perhaps She is none other than the Bhramaramba. Came to help me do a small act of charity. Me in a clumsily draped silk dhoti,  must have struck an odd sight there on the temple threshold. Way back in the past, at least mother helped me wear a mini-dhoti with proper folds for the temple visit. Such are the gestures of immense affection shown by our mothers and the Mother; here I have been foolishly looking for peace of mind in all odd places.

As I was leaving the holy place, my thoughts wandered all over. There in the perimeter, the wandering mendicants’ chants of ‘siva siva’, mallayya, Mallanna. I wish I had been more generous with the merchants, the mild mannered mendicants, and the wayfarers there. The brown-ochre rocky walls were all reverberating with these sacred sounds. I could not go down to the patala ganga. My parents were lucky to walk around all these paths on bare foot. I do not think in those days, my mother even had a pair of chappals. Did I miss encircling the white arjuna tree in the compound? I could not get a glimpse of jasmine creeper entwined on to a tree evoking the poem: “sandhyarambha ….” Perhaps, still in the deep interiors of forest we can get a view of such a scene. Luckily, in our backyard, even in the front yard, and on my walks across the village here, I come across many instances of tall pine, ever green tree trunks clasped tightly and densely by the English ivy, Virginia creeper, or the climbing wild grape vine . They are most beautiful, striking to the eye during the three seasons (i.e., during spring, fall, and winter). Of course, these scenes  are most bewitching to watch against the clear blue skies in winter and fall. During summers here, the landscape is crowded with too many distractive majestic trees with loads of green foliage or bunches of captivating fragrant violet lilacs.

As we’re boarding the return bus, I almost felt like leaving the precincts of my beloved parents. Our father too in some respects resembled like the Lord Siva (they say you become what you meditate on). Always going an extra mile to provide comforts for his children – whether picking the tastiest mangoes or making a comfy bed. Such is the unbounded affection of our First Couple (Siva and Parvati) to its people. The Sanatana Dharma is very interesting: at some places it is very subtle, at some places it could be very stern, yet it offers many myriad ways to one’s progress. Through thick and thin, through the vicissitudes of life. Though we could not spend more time on the hill, still we came home with peace in mind and renewed strength in our bodies.

Lest the writer conclude this post with a little disappointment, for not finding the fabled redolent jasmine creeper clasping a tree trunk, the kind guru Adi Sankara intervened and gave me a gift. Out of nowhere, on a routine walk in the woods of the Garden State I came across this alluring beautiful scene: A Japanese honeysuckle vine spiraling on to a bare oak tree trunk with double colored (yellow and white) sweet smelling long stemmed flowers. Thus what has been missed on the hills of Srisailam is found readily in the northeast woods here. It is only natural, isn’t it? All exploration must finally come to a full circle, must cease at finding the ‘antara-atma’ here close to one’s heart (Tyagayya’s “marugElara మరుగేలరా” and “maaru paluka మారు పలుక ” come to my mind). And any discovery, if it needs to be helpful to the explorer, must happen now!

Srisailam - Part I

Srisailam ( = Tirumalai)

Getting to feel religion firsthand is rare, it does happen – but one cannot command it. We may use the word ‘spirituality’, but the latter word is rather ill defined. Of course, there are several words in our Sanatana Dharma. Adhyatmakita, mumukshuvu come to my mind.

In the past we had visited other sacred places; those trips too happened due to ‘a rare grace’. As I look back now in retrospect, we could have missed many of them but for some invisible luck, good fortune, or blessing. To think otherwise, that we consciously made explicit effort, therefore it happened, would be just naïve. In modern times, particularly in America and in urban India, people tend to tell young children thus: “Yes, you can do anything, you want. You can grow up to be a pilot, doctor, engineer, truck driver, a painter, poet, or scientist. Just make the effort, you will become.” That type of platitude, silly advice is all pure bunkum, just hogwash as they say here. No, you cannot become a graceful dancer even if you practice 24 hours a day. Ask, any number of ballerinas or Kuchipudi dancers. Your body may break into smithereens before you know it, and you may even end up with a chronic backache or disabling bone fracture. Or try to be a singer at the level of Ghantasala or S. Rajeswara Rao. Though we cannot say everything is totally preordained, yet there is a rough plan that guides us through life. Similarly, you cannot visit certain sacred places even if you have all the money and youthful energy in the world. It just will not happen. Such sudden upsets happened to an exceptional devotee like Suri Nagamma, why won’t it happen to any of us? Either we have willfully prayed (submitted ourselves) for it, or a higher force has showered some grace on us; only in such rare instances we will be able to visit places like, Madurai, Kasi, Srisailam, Kanchi, Mathura, or Vijayawada. Even when I was very close to certain holy places, I missed them. Just the thought did not occur to my little petty mind (there is always plenty of avidya, abundance of it, like the dark matter); such is the power and weight of “accrued bad karma (= Praarabdhi Karma)”. Nothing can erase our past karmic smudge, though it is barely visible from a distance, like the distant hilly silhouette … As the profound composer Ramadasu says, such karmic accumulations are as big as giant coaly mountains! A benevolent guru or a sacred mantra can help in overcoming this painful hurdle, but that too takes lot of genuine pure sadhana.

Indeed our parents and forefathers were truly blessed. With very limited finances, they could visit Srisailam several times, even during the very busy crowded times of Maha-Sivaratri. Often I wondered whether I would ever be able to visit this unique earthly paradise. For a long time, I have been repenting my missed chance to stop at Kalahasti. And time is flowing rapidly. Finally, after all these years, we got to make the trip with our relatives. I felt as though I have at last fulfilled my parents’ wish; or perhaps, it is solely their blessings that helped us make the pilgrimage.

A north Indian couple was seated on the opposite side in the bus. He was the only person who intermittently chanted Siva’s name audibly throughout the trip. I too wished for a more demonstrative loud chanting of “Hara Hara” in the luxury bus; but alas, I must grudgingly concur with the opinion: “These days even in Hindu religious centers, there are more of social tourists than the real faithful pilgrims. Perhaps, a sign of the prevailing times. At least, they are visiting these sacred timeless temples on one pretext or other.”

During the entire bus travel, I kept on remembering the “Sandhyaarambha ..” sloka*. Going up the hills, we got to see a sambar deer – it was difficult to focus clearly on the distant forest through the windows. I had hoped to see a teak or maddi chettu with a climbing jasmine creeper. But then I did not venture to climb the hills on foot. We just went around the temple premises and then walked to and fro from our cottages. In the temple compound we got to see a well kept white Morinda tree with a helpful sign for visitors. They say there is another long living Morinda tree in Tamil Nadu in the premises of Maddya-arjuna temple. Once the holy Paramacharya witnessed the unfolding of a tragic incident associated with the latter Siva temple. The story illustrates how Lord Siva protects His unflinching devotees in the most trying circumstances, how He saves them from the uncultured larger society, from a humiliating shame. I must digress a bit here to tell the entire story. Siva – really your name is holy.

[         Once there was a severe drought in the areas surrounding the Madhyarjunam temple. A rich landlord wanted to please Siva for a speedy bounty of rain. After all what is the use of holding on to hundreds of acres of dirt without any crop, fruit tree, or flowers even? So the landlord arranged for a detailed abhishekam (with all the pancha-amrita) for the Siva-linga with the accompaniment of Vedic chanting, namakam-chamakam. It was followed by a sumptuous feast to all the Veda-pundits and Brahmin priests. It so happened that in the pundits there was a very old (probably an octogenarian) learned pundit. With all other priests, he too struggled to chant the sacred Siva names and attributes; but due to the infirmities of age and possibly due to missing teeth, he could only mumble the words in a lower decibel, perhaps at times out of sync. It was not his conscious fault, his mind was totally with Siva. In his entire life, he never asked for anything from the Lord. But, like this writer, he had a soft corner for the sweet dish, chakrapongali. So, during the meal, the elderly pundit asked for a second helping of the sweet dish. The rich landlord had earlier given strict instructions to the servers to mistreat the Vedic scholar: “No second helpings for him.” Because, erroneously the landlord thought the Vedic pundit did not do a justice to the chanting.

But the story did not end there. After the feast, without knowing what he had done, the landlord went to see our Paramacharya with prasadam in hand. The ensuing dialog went somewhat like this: “Sir, I brought this prasadam from the Lord of Maddyarjuna temple. We performed the ablutions with elaborate chanting of namakam-chamakam.”

Here, our great walking-saint, was awestruck at the unfolding of a great tragedy. The ever-compassionate Siva is angered and nothing can stop His fury. What to do? For the Paramacharya, all are dear. But, he could not tolerate an octogenarian, that too a devout Siva bhakta, getting humiliated. So he asked to know, to elicit the real truth. Of course, the Paramacharya was totally aware of everything. He could see through the fog of time like a laser beam. Still, he asked the landlord, “Did you feed all the guests properly?” “Yes, I did Sir.” “Was there a learned old Vedic Brahmin in the guests. Did he ask for a second helping?”

“Yes, he did ask for it. Since he only mumbled some inaudible words, I withheld the sweet dish from him.”

“No, I cannot accept the prasadam from your hands. You must rush, run fast to catch the pundit. Ask for his forgiveness.”

Immediately the maha-swamigal retired to his quarters without the midday biksha. He did not touch food for the entire day. How could he? There in his own backyard, a Siva bhakta was in distress. Later that day the temple priest brought prasadam for Paramacharya. The swami took only a few grains, but he continued his fast till the next day.

There in the temple village, things were rapidly moving at lightning speed. Straight away that night, the elderly Vedic pundit went to the temple and prostrated in front of the Lord. “Siva, you know me well. Throughout my life I have chanted your name with clear diction, perfect sound, and proper rhythm. I am getting on years. Now, I cannot keep up with the fast chanting, cannot keep up with the younger priests. But, you know my body is crumbling in front of Your eyes. I have always loved you, who is there for me except You? My only weakness now, is this silly craving for a little sweet dish. Even that, today, now, at this moment, I am giving up. I seek only your feet, nothing else. Please save me from this public humiliation. Save me please, my only savior, Siva. I cannot bear this shame.”

And the Lord readily accepted the octogenarian. He took him into his fold. Since we are burdened with the physical body, naturally we are conditioned to have a favorite dish, a longing for new clothes, or a decent vehicle. No big deal, no harm in that. The heart should always be pure, fully centered in Siva. That is all it matters. After all, neither Siva nor Uma wants their children dressed in ragged clothes or wallow in pain with discontented stomachs.

When the landlord reached his village, there was a strange scene. He patiently went around and enquired about the whereabouts of the pundit. There he saw a big crowd gathered in front of a house in the Brahmin quarters. “Our dear Vedic scholar is no more. Last night, he collapsed and passed away outside the temple.” A searing pain went through the landlord. He got a chill through his body. Immediately he sensed the approaching storm. Soon he would lose all his lands in rapid succession, very soon he became a pauper. With total contrition in his heart, he painfully made a trip to Varanasi, the abode of Visalakshi. He had to endure his last days in utter shame, eking his life as a menial cook. Though we may not comprehend Siva’s ways, still we must recognize His abundant affection and love towards all, including this once errant landlord. Once a being comes into His orbit, Siva always gently takes care of His devotee. At times, the path may appear very hard, circuitous, and through the intervention of a kind guru or devotee.] 

---

*  సంధ్యారంభ విజృంభితాం శ్రుతిశిరస్స్థానాంతరాధిష్టితం
      సప్రేమభ్రమరాభిరామ మసకృత్ సద్వాసనా శోభితం

     భోగీంద్రాభరణం సమస్తసుమనః పూజ్యం గుణావిష్కృతం
     సేవే శ్రిగిరి మల్లికార్జున మహాలింగం శివాలింగితం

Composing A Song

First an honest disclosure: I am neither a prolific composer or nor an extempore lyricist. However, a recent experience with writing lyrics in Telugu and composing a few songs in my mother tongue gave me a new perspective on this activity. How to compose a song from beginning to the end? That is, how to write lyrics for a complete song and equip the song with a nice tune (melody,), so that the song can be sung. This is something I've accidently just fallen into, I happen to discover (rather uncover) and I want to elaborate some thoughts on this 'very exciting, enjoyable, and unique' experience. I am very much just a beginner (would rather be a beginner forever, because as a beginner one can learn new things easily!); but my observations may perhaps kindle some new creative flares in other people, other aspiring, ambitious new young (I mean young at heart, which has nothing do with age or other external factors) artists. Would very much like to hear from other folks out there in the real/cyber world. Since English is not my mother tongue, I do not have a clear, facile, familiarity with its (the second language) idiom, sound, rhyme, and musicality (though, I am sure it can be learnt  - not a big deal). So, I keep my hands off of English for now. Also, I am utterly biased towards Telugu – to me, it is the most musical (of course, Sanskrit too is very musical, rational, and succinct in expression) language; plus, it truly is mellifluous. Oh, you got to sing some of Annamayya’s compositions to feel it, or dwell on a Kshetrayya padamu (పదము)   to absorb its innate charm.

        Ok, now what are the most important features of a song? Tune, words, meaning, and time. I think these four essential factors will describe the bare bones of a 'song'. Of course, every song must (and does) originate in a poet's heart; so, every song has that indescribable 'soul' or 'heart'. Without that intrinsic 'heart/life' - a song even with the greatest tune/melody and words is - nothing. It will not succeed. What do we mean by success here? The success here does not mean how many millions of records sold - no, success here means that the song has evoked 'an elated feeling' (or the Sanskrit word 'rasa') in the listener. (We assume that the listener can comprehend the words, language). Even without knowing a song's language, still we can feel its music and essence. For example, years ago when I used to hear the Tamil song (its Telugu counterpart is 'ilaage ilaage saraaga maadite..') with music by Ilayaraja - though I never understood the Tamil words fully, the song always left a romantic mood in me; the song really resonated with me. So, we can feel songs even when the language is not fully understood!

       Now a song starts with 'a mood'. Getting that particular, unique mood is the most difficult thing. How to get the inspiration and thoughts flowing? Do the words come first (i.e., the lyrics are fully formed first) or just the tune - i.e., bits of notes, some chords, a starting tune? Starting can be either way. Sometimes, I just have a vague tune, something I can whistle, hum.  But may be, that starting note is good only for the refrain? What about the rest of the song, the stanzas - what will be their tune? And then, we have stalwarts like Naushad (in Hindi) and S. Rajeswara Rao (in Telugu) - who can fit three or four different tunes to the 3 or 4 stanzas? It is already getting complicated. Does this analysis mean that poets who can not sing (say not good singers) can not write songs? No, not at all. After all SriSri (Telugu Poet) wrote a number of beautiful songs. I do not think people would rate him as a good singer. I think a good poet (or to be more precise, a lyricist) has his/her own inner timing, tune, and very sensitive ear. And, to write a good song, that is a must.

       Words: For a poet or a lyricist, large vocabulary is essential. Because, when we have the rough draft of a song, it is not done yet.  We find some line is not fitting properly with the tune. So, we have to chop off some words, add new words or rearrange the sequence of words. And this keeps on going until we have a final version of the song - a version that sounds natural, smooth, and carries the overall tune and music. It should appear nice to the ear, to the heart and of course, the meaning should be clear and transparent. We have to intuitively know how long ( I mean time here) a word takes, how many syllables and undulations are possible; we have to know whether we can stretch a particular vowel (a, aa, i, ii, etc.) without spoiling the beauty of the song. So, in our tool box, we must have lots of synonymous words, long ones and short ones. (In English, there is the Rhyming Dictionary, probably this has spoilt a few lyricists!) This comes with experience, with lot of reading, and lot of listening. Basically, we have to live the song; there is no short cut to this cutting and editing - unless one is an extraordinary poet like Krishnasastri or Annamayya. Rest of us, we have to work with what we are given, by luck. Need extraordinary patience with this way of song writing. But that is all I know right now. Some songs have come easily to me, just within a day it got completed. I took more time with others; partly it is due to the lack of time or I got busy with other activities.

         Meaning: What is the purpose of a song? To translate a genuine feeling, to put it (that original state of mind) into exquisite sound (call it melody, raagam, tune). Or we are transporting  a particular 'mood' (emotional state) into words of a language. So, the song must have an overall meaning and in between there will be some beautiful phrases; those phrases when composed by great poets - they are always memorable. Here are some examples: Tyagaraja - 'sucana teliyaka orula yaacana cEyu naaku' (సూచన తెలియక ఒరుల యాచన చేయు నాకు  = cluelessly begging others). SriSri - 'yavvanamu anubhavamu jatakudina' ( యవ్వనము అనుభవము జతకూడిన = youth, experience, if combined! ). Don't we wish we have all that 'combination of youth and experience'?  UshaSri - 'silalaa ceragani sogasu, alalaa ponge vayasu' (శిలలా చెరగని సొగసు, అలలా పొంగే వయసు  = a beauty like the imperishable sculpture, age/youth brimming like a wave). If the poet can feel and immerse entirely in the mood - meaning will come naturally.

         But if I can say just one thing - writing a good song whether it is a sad or cheerful song, it takes a lot of energy (emotionally). And, when it is completed to the poet's satisfaction, it takes a toll. Because, a true artist must be an intrinsic part of his/her work (or creation). No wonder, the great SriSri had to indulge in drinking. It is the same with singing a very moving (emotive) song (be it classical or light music); the singer will feel that as if her batteries have been discharged!

       Writing a poem, say a free verse is one thing. Some Telugu prose can also be put to good music. My sense is, prose is prose, and poetry is poetry. At times, we come across awkward experiments of forcing music onto “purely flat prose expressions”. Writing a song with good lyrics and tune - is entirely different thing. Truly composers like Annamayya, Ramadasu, Tyagaraja are always extraordinary giants - they mastered all facets of song writing - literature, music, meaning, and endowing each song with the gift of 'rare joy'. I am reminded here the quote of Newton:

"while the vast oceans of knowledge lay before me, I am just playing on the beach with pebbles.." (or to that effect, I am writing from memory). Before concluding I must express my gratitude to a number of people (both here and up above there in some celestial world) who generously gave me a lot in terms of motivation, encouragement, and inspiration; it is best that they remain anonymous because they are close to heart!

       To all those aspiring song writers and singers, good luck and surely you will enjoy the process...

[Coming to this article on “creative composition”, is there any thing I can add further? Just couple of things. One, in NY Times, there is a column by the title, ‘Measure for Measure’. It too talks about music and composing. The series may give some new ideas about inspiration and creating. It talks about “getting stuck” and how to get out of it. One suggestion got my attention: Rather than endlessly waiting for the best possible composition (or lyrics), just lower your expectation, and write even a mediocre song. And proceed from there, i.e., try improving a bad lyric (or poem). Second, my limited experience with song writing is this: It is much easier to complete a song with a self (or even externally) imposed deadline. Stick to the song, better to spend intense attention for a day or two and just complete it. Often the results are very good. Otherwise, a piece of song just drags on for months – desperately looking at you, begging you to finish it. This too has happened to me.

Lastly, about the art of pure listening. For me listening to hundreds of Telugu, Hindi, and Sanskrit songs in my formative years has worked wonders. Unknowingly, I got to subtly memorize a wide range of melodies, beats, and very soul stirring emotional refrains. To write well, one has to read very diverse selection of works. To compose successfully, similarly, one has to listen across different genres and tongues. Or, like the great Brahmendra Swami, do silent meditation.

Seven years back I posted this piece at Sulekha. It was prompted by a request from a fellow Sulekhite. I am including it here with a few fresh observations. I am amazed that it received the attention of thousands of readers. It is also gratifying to any writer – that his website is frequented by tens of thousands viewers. Last time I checked, just for fun, this once obscure website (http://pattri-pulu.blogspot.com/) has recorded close to 11,000 browsers. Mostly I have endeavored to post informative, intellectually stimulating, and some even highly imaginative articles.] 

Happy Ugadi (Telugu New Year) to all readers! Bring in the spring, bring in Jaya year.

Copyright by the author 2014

Meaning of "Pahimam Srirama" Kirtana

Paahimaam = protect me, rescue me; Sri Rama = auspicious Rama, Rama with Sri, Rama with Sita; ante = when I utter; palukavaitivi = you do not respond, you do not reply; niisnEha = your friendship, companionship; mettidana cheppanO = how to tell, what can I say about it (your friendship);

Ibbandi nondi = when it got into a predicament, stuck in a desperate situation; aa kari = that elephant; bobba peTTinantalOnE = gave a shriek for help;  gabbuna = immediately, without further delay; (k)gaachitivaTa = came to its rescue; nibbaramugaa = in plenty, in excess, profusely; nEnentO = nEnu + entO = I, so much; kabbamicci = gave (so much) poetry, offered so many poetical works; vEdukonna = sought refuge in you; tabbibbu = overwhelm (me), very disorienting; cEsedavu = you make it; abba = an interjection expressing exasperation;

sannutincu varinella = all those who extol your virtues (characteristics); munnu = foremost, earlier; dayato = with kindness, with compassion; brOcitavani = have come to their rescue; pannaga Sayi = Sesha-Sayi = the One who reclines on the great serpent Adi Sesha; nE kani = I met, I saw; vinnavinciti = pleaded, submitted a request; vinnapamu = the application, request; vinaka = not paying attention, not considering the matter, not listening to the devotee’s earnest appeal; entO = very much; kannaDa = neglect; (j)chEsedavu = you do it; yennaTiki = ever; namma raadu = cannot trust, cannot believe; anna nna = interjection expressing surprise;

chayyana = swiftly, Bhadradri = the Bhadra mountain ( = Bhadrachalam); nilaya = abode; swami vani nammi nEnu = I feel you are the Lord; vEmaaru = thousand times; vidhamula = ways, methods; vinuti chEya saagiti = I’ve come to praise You, extolled You; iiyeDanu = in this context, at this moment, in this regard, in this matter; Ramadasuni = Ramadasu; kuyyaalinchi = (did Ramadasu consider himself as a helpless crying child?) carry a child in arms and move him in a cradling motion, or pacify a baby by rocking the cradle; brOvakunna = if You do not sustain and care for me; oyyaaramEmanavachchu(nu) = what to say about Your grace in such an act (of omission); ayyayya = interjection expressing a feeling of sadness or pain;

In the first stanza (చరణము), Ramadasu mentions the name of Gajendra. His story is very well described in Srimad-Bhagavatam. I have access only to the Telugu translation by Potana. In the eighth chapter, Gajendra fought with the water dwelling crocodile for a long time, almost thousand years. Finally he realizes his impotence; with rapidly dwindling energies, stuck in the abyss of excruciating pain he makes a final appeal (total surrender) to Lord Narayana. Gajendra did not call Narayana by His proper name (which one to pick? There are more than one thousand names) but he addressed his request to that supreme authority, who controls and sustains the entire world. In the story, Brahma and Siva did not move, did not respond. Maybe, they thought the sustainer of all life, Narayana would come to save our Gajendra.

Here, in this context, Ramadasu seems to ask: How come You (Vishnu) speedily went to help the distressed elephant after hearing one S.O.S message? Here, I have composed hundreds of songs on you, penned thousands of lines extolling your virtues and qualities, yet I get no response from you. What type of friendship is this, please tell me. This conduct of yours is very puzzling, I cannot understand, so says the extempore composer of Bhadrachalam. When was it, when was this song composed? Just in 17^th century.

Throughout the song, there is a bit (just a smidgen) of sarcasm, a little tease addressed to Rama. Of course, the devotee is always free to do, whatever (s)he pleases. In the literature, there are cases when a devotee offers ablutions with water contaminated with spittle. There is another situation where a devotee throws stones at a murti. Dharma, the core principle of Sanatana tradition is very fine, subtle – it is not easily understood, not even by the celestials. So, here, in this context too, our Telugu great grand father (to me Annamayya, Tyagayya, and many other great composers are like great grand fathers) Ramadasu too directs his exasperation at Rama. But Rama, even the word itself is very potent. The Lord is the most compassionate, the most perfect amalgam of all finer virtues. No one, no one could find fault with his conduct or actions. We may not understand the Lord’s actions or intents. Often we erroneously jump to the conclusion: “He does not answer my application”. Both Ramadasu and Tyagayya were very fortunate. They were constantly watched and protected by Lord Rama. Same thing happened in the case of Bhakta Jayadeva too. How could they compose such extraordinarily beautiful songs? Without the fountain of deep inspiration? How could they lead their lives in this Kali-yuga (we are in Kali-yuga 5115 year) without the Lord’s benevolent gaze steadily shining on them ?

For some time, I did not get the full import of the last stanza. I went on practicing this song for weeks, putting concentration more on getting the melody and diction of every phrase absolutely correct. Then, it occurred to me like this: In the middle stanza, the composer (our great grandfather Bhakta Ramadasu. To me all these great musical composers are like my grandfathers. They teach me many new things in life. They offer their pure unalloyed affection whenever I get dispirited, disappointed, and become a bit sad. They opened to me vast fragrant gardens, vistas filled with heavenly beauty – in music, literature, dance, philosophy, and religion. Singlehandedly, these forefathers of Telugu have instructed me in many diverse things through easy paths and short cuts. To obtain such a vast repertoire of knowledge, I have to study volumes, even whole libraries. But they saved me from enormous trouble and hard work. Through sweet melodious compositions, they gently taught me many essential, subtle things – about the nature of true Bhakti, the meaning of devotion, and pure passion. Other than bowing at their feet, what can I give them? My heartfelt salutations to all those exalted spirits. I am sure wherever they are, they will receive my pure respects kindly.) Where was I, yes our Ramadasu had a vision of Lord Vishnu on His special serpent bed (modern water bed is nothing compared to this!) with the ever compassionate Lakshmi on His side. Like the murti in Sri-rangam. There in the midst of milky ocean, gentle waves are giving our Lord a soft cradling effect (massage). And in that reclining posture, the Lord always appears with total peace and beauty emanating from His face. Oh, those lotus petal filled eyes. Here, Ramadasu seems to poke fun at the Lord, what is the use of You enjoying the cradling waves there? Come, come down to the earth and console this mortal child who is in utter inconsolable grief.

[If I may slightly digress here, I recall listening to one of the Telugu exponents once. When a sincere student asked a learned Swami thus, “I have so many questions about the scriptures, what to do? Who will clear my doubts?” The Swami said politely something to this effect: “Please read all the Puranas and the three great epics, Ramayana, Mahabharata, and Srimad-Bhagavatam, and Bhagavad-Gita each book three times. Read with pure intellect, with devotion and absolute care. And then come back to me after doing this home work, and then submit your question or any lingering doubt.” It is true, after completing such home work meticulously, there will be very few questions. This writer does not try to boast, but would like to share couple of insights with others. 1. If a Sadhaka genuinely tries to explore the age old Sanatana tradition, if he persists with patience, definitely he will find the correct answer to his question. 2. If one submits (all the baggage of pride, intellect, etc.) oneself with utter humility, on the way, he will come across the right literature (commentary, explanation) and the right preceptor – at the right opportune moment. But one needs to learn a little bit of Sanskrit, Telugu (or Tamil or any of the other Indian languages). Knowing a language (other than English) helps and helps a lot. Though there are great yogis who never opened a book – it is altogether a different phenomenon, for lesser humans, a little bit of study (swadhyayana) is a must. One may come across a rare English book by Sister Nivedita or Swami Nikhilananda, but such instances are very infrequent. Rarely we find genuine helpful books in English, books that can really inculcate a sense of true devotion or wisdom. ]  

            
        Upon the urging of a Sulekhite, I had to study this popular Ramadasu kirtana in depth. Hope it is helpful to the young learners of Telugu/Carnatic music. Lekhini was used for English transliteration. Lyrics were given in a previous post here. Copyright by the author 2014.