Furry Friend (A Rainy day Poem)

Furry Friend

Innocence or 

Carefree attitude

Some get it, some don’t

It’s not something you acquire

Or, learn gradually

When I stepped out

It was totally overcast

Drab, gloomy, soggy

You might say

It’s a rainy day – to put it simply

But as I ventured out

With a light umbrella

There I came across

A light brown jovial dog

Man’s best friend -

A Terrier perhaps

You got to see

Its sprightliness, playfulness

It stomped on the puddles

Rolled on the wet grass

Played to its heart’s content

On the muddy brown waters

The owner didn’t mind it either

There 

In the drizzle, halting rain

We three

Enjoyed the outdoors

I could see my 

Middle school days

Vividly on my mental screen

Then and there in the coastal

Village 

We had distinct seasons

Six to count

Summer means just hot 

Blistering scorching vertical 

Rays with cool jasmine aroma filled

Nights and mangoes

Rainy season with downpours

Puddles, tanks with croaking frogs

Brown slippery muddy streets

Once we had a rainy day holiday

The distant pupils couldn’t make it

Treading wearily thro’ the slippery

Muddy farms’ edges

So

Mother asked me to go and study

At the tuition master’s house

Just less than a block down the lane

I rushed out in the drizzle

Weaving through the little puddles

And then slipped on the viscous mud

And fell again not once, but thrice

Every time soiling the clothes

Mom got annoyed

Got a little angry

“No, you aren’t going anywhere

In this rain. Stay home with underwear.”

She had so many dirty clothes -

Washing ‘em during monsoon

Isn’t an easy chore

I was housebound with nobody

To play, no fun to spend time

Those were the days

In the village

No radio, no TV, no cell phones

No PDA’s, no iPhone either

Confined to two rooms

With my sister and mom

What a marvelous rainy day!

I miss those days

I miss my sister and mother

I also miss our

Pure white Pomeranian

That would never miss

A dusting in the roadside dirt

After a thorough shampoo bath in the canal

But I am glad for those

Sweet memories

Couldn’t have asked for better parents

Or siblings – they all loved me dearly   

Copyright 2023 by the author

Lyrics of "pibare rama rasam" Song

పిబరే రామరసమ్ 

పిబరే రామరసమ్ - రసనే 

దూరీకృత పాతక సంసర్గం 

పూరిత నానావిధ ఫలవర్గమ్ 

జనన మరణభయ శోకవిదూరం 

సకల శాస్త్ర నిగమాగమ సారమ్ 

పరిపాలిత సరసిజ గర్భాణ్డం

పరమ పవిత్రీకృత పాషణ్డం

శుద్ధ పరమ హంసాశ్రమ (హంస ఆశ్రమ) గీతం 

శుక శౌనక కౌశిక ముఖ పీతమ్ 

पिबरे राम रसम् 

पिबरे राम रसम् - रसने 

दूरीकृत पातक संसर्गम् 

पूरित नानाविध फलवर्गम् 

जनन मरणभय शोक विदूरं  

सकल शास्त्र निगमागम सारम् 

परिपालित सरसिज गर्भाण्डम् 

परम पवित्रीकृत पाषाण्डम् 

शुद्ध परम हंसाश्रम गीतं 

शुक शौनक कौशिक मुख पीतम् 

pibarae raamarasam^ pibarae raamarasam^ - rasanae dooreekRta paataka saMsargaM poorita naanaavidha phalavargam^ janana maraNabhaya SOkavidooraM sakala Saastra nigamaagama saaram^ paripaalita sarasija garbhaaNDaM parama pavitreekRta paashaNDaM Suddha parama haMsaaSrama (haMsa aaSrama) geetaM Suka Saunaka kauSika mukha peetam^

Dr. Balamuralikrishna's rendition

M. S. Subbulakshmi's voice

(How to explain and explore this devotional song? It is not easy to go into its depths. But its simple exhortation to utter Sri Rama's name continuously, incessantly, and without any apparent reason - is enough for any beginner.  We'll look into each phrase carefully later. Sri Sadasiva Brahmendra Swamy assured one thing - by invoking his guru's name in each song, he assured "timelessness" to all his compositions. We cannot say who is greater, is it the guru? Or, is the disciple greater than the guru? For us, both are very helpful in our arduous journey. Copyright 2023 by the author) 

కరోనా ఘాతము (Corona's Blow) - A Telugu Poem on Corona

కరోనా ఘాతము (కవన వీడ్కోలు)

లేదు 

ఇప్పుడు ఇనగంటి (ఇనకంటి) కుటుంబం లో 

మా సూరీడు 

ఎప్పుడూ నిండు మొగముతో, తెల్ల జుత్తుతో

పెన్సిల్ మీసముతో, తెల్ల చొక్కా పైజమా వేస్తే 

గుల్జార్ లా ఉండేవారు  

నవ్వుతూ మాట్లాడు కొనేవాళ్ళం

ఉద్వేగ భరిత వాదోపవాదాలు

జోకులు, అప్పుడప్పుడు నన్ను

ఆట పట్టించే వారు

అంతలోమర్చిపోయే వాళ్ళం 

ఇప్పటికి

కళ్ళలోజ్ఞాపకాలు సినిమా బొమ్మాల్లా

కదుల్తాయి -

శ్రీశైలములో కరివేన సత్రములో 

కలిసి భోంచేయడం

పెళ్ళికి ముందూ, పెళ్ళికి తర్వాత కూడా 

చాలా సార్లు నాగపూర్ స్టేషన్లో బండి ఎక్కించడమూ 

లేని రిజర్వేషన్లు, బెర్త్ సృష్టించడమూ మా ‘భైయా’ కే సాధ్యము 

ఎన్ని విషయాలు చర్చించుకునే వాళ్ళము -

ముళ్ల మొక్కలు దగ్గర్నుంచి, రాజకీయాలు, విజ్ఞానము 

ఆరోగ్య శాస్త్రము, సాహిత్యము 

ఎక్కడ దొరుకుతారు - అటువంటి అపురూప వ్యక్తి?

నాల్గు భాషలు క్షుణ్ణముగా ఎవరికి తెలుసు ఈనాడు?

ఎవరితో మాట్లాడ గలము ఇప్పుడు 

నాగపూర్ పోతుకూచి సుబ్రహ్మణ్య శాస్త్రి గారి గురించి

ఎవరికి అర్ధ మవుతాయి? ఈ నిగూఢ రహస్యాలు 

ప్రపంచంలోనే మహా ఉంటే పదిమంది ఉంటారు

మీ ఆత్మ

ఇప్పుడు ఎక్కడ ఉన్నా 

పరమ శాంతి సుఖాలతో సుందర ఉద్యానవనాల

ఫల పుష్ప రసాల పిక కపూత శ్రేణి భరిత లతా కుంజములలో

పచ్చపొలాల మధ్య నదీ ప్రవాహాల లాహరిలో సఖులతో 

ఆనంద డోలికలలో 

విహరించుగాక 

తదుపరి -

“అహం బ్రహ్మాస్మి” సిద్ధి కల్గు గాక!

Copyright 2020 by the author

English Translation of this poem was posted here at Corona's Blow

Basil

In Telugu we call it as ‘Rudra Jada’. Roughly it translates the epithet as Siva’s braid (tresses). Either it implies growing into a large bush quickly or the very aromatic flower stalks. In the village many of our friends’ homes are adorned with this cousin of our sacred Basil (the Tulasi). It is possible the plant has some repellent effects on mosquitoes and thus creates healthy ambience around the house periphery. Mosquitoes (particularly the vector of either malaria or equine encephalitis) and ticks pose great debilitating diseases for children as well as adults. 

Like the sacred Basil (Tulasi) this plant too can be grown with small cuttings or seeds. I keep some dried seeds (the flower clumps) tucked away safely in a dry place. But like many being a bit lazy I simply pick the seedlings from the local Farmers Market. Sweet Basil is a favorite plant here for many Europeans, specially the Italians. And every year the 3 inch long seedlings are sold for a dollar. We just transplant the seedlings into a large pot and it grows vigorously and puts on a few flowers. We cut the fresh aromatic leaves and store them in the fridge for months in a perforated plastic pouch. You can use them in some dishes as you like it; the leaves are delicate, so it is better to add to the culinary dish after the flame is switched off. That way you can retain the freshness of the leaves with its gentle aroma (flavor). We do not use it much in our cooking as we have plenty of coriander and curry leaf at our disposal. The coriander (cilantro) has become routinely available through out the year now. We have the curry leaf plant in a large container – and that takes care of the garnishing needs for sambar, upma, rasam, flavored buttermilk, and other curries, etc. So, we grow this sweet Basil for fun, for show, and for gifting to friends.

Now, some of the medicinal uses of this plant are as follows: In summer the seeds are useful for making tasty “sherbet”. The seeds when soaked in water get swollen and they develop a slippery soft (white) cover (sort of gelatinous coating). The fully swollen seeds with a bit of sugar form the base for a summer drink (sherbet). We can add a bit of finely grated ice and food colorant and there you get a refreshing drink for hot summer days. This low cost drink is good for children to relieve excessive dehydration and summer fatigue. In fact, in the village I used to buy this drink at the weekly Farmers Market (santa/sandai సంత ). That was the only treat I could afford after finishing all the shopping of vegetables for an entire week.

In Hindi and Urdu the plant is known as Sabja and the seeds are known as Sabja seeds. It is also known as Viswa Tulasi. The plant’s medicinal value is as follows: It cools the body, resolves early urinary difficulties (due to heat, dripping), and helps with headaches and earaches. The plant is also beneficial for neutralizing scorpion poison. Recently sweet Basil has been studied (NIH paper) for memory retention. For elders, memory and cognitive function abilities are very important. So, munch on some sweet Basil and gorge on green leafy vegetables like cabbage (and its cousins like broccoli and Brussels sprouts). 

Lyrics of "Omkara karini" Song

lavangi             aadi

Omkaaraa kaariNii mada

hamkaara vaariNii avatumaam

huumkaara maatra Satru damanii

hriimkaara ruupiNii rudraaNi

muraLii sudhaa laharii vihaarii

puraripu prEmita tripura sundarii

karuNaarasa bharita lalita lavangi

varadaa abhayadaa sakala Subhaangi

లవంగి             ఆది

ఓంకారా కారిణీ మద

హంకార వారిణీ అవతుమాం

హూంకార మాత్ర శత్రు దమనీ

హ్రీంకార రూపిణీ రుద్రాణి

మురళీ సుధా లహరీ విహారీ

పురరిపు ప్రేమిత త్రిపుర సుందరీ

కరుణారస భరిత లలిత లవంగి

వరదా అభయదా సకల శుభాంగి

लवंगी   आदि 

ओंकारा कारिणी मद 

हंकार वारिणी अवतुमां 

हूम्कार मात्र शतृ दमनी 

ह्रींकार रूपिणि रुद्राणि 

मुरळी सुधा लहरी विहारी 

पुररिपु प्रेमित त्रिपुर सुन्दरी 

करुणारस भरित ललित लवंगी 

वरदा अभयदा सकल सुभाङ्गी  

I heard this song in a CD, perhaps obtained at Rochester Rajeswari Temple. Dr. Balamuralikrishna composed several unique ragas, this is one of his favorite compositions. I think so. The lyrics are full of profound meaning. They let us meditate on the qualities of Sri Mata (Devi). If I may, in the recent history both Dr. Balamurali and Sri GNB had a special blessing of the divine Mother. Their compositions are a true testimony to the divine grace. Copyright of this song naturally belongs to Dr. Balamuralikrishna's Trust. Carnatic music students should always remember/acknowledge the original composer while learning any song. For a change I give the audio link of Dr. Pantula Rama, Pantula Rama's rendition

Love's Reflection

Love's Reflection

As children we never enquired about our parents’ bachelor life, their romances, glittering youth, or their friends. Back then we were too engrossed in our own studies; or spending evening hours late into the night immersed in outdoor activities on the tiled front porch. With a bit of leisure mother would open up gently and talk about their parents’ (our grandparents’) affection. Once she coyly commented about father’s youthful handsome appearance prior to their marriage; those were the days before they got engaged. We belonged to a different era, before TV, modern color camera, iPhone, and online streaming. Most of our cohorts were naïve in many things. They either pursued endless studies for Civil and bank jobs, opted for local jobs in agriculture, or small businesses. Yet we too had our share of romances and non-traditional marriages. Life moved on slowly at the pace of an antique steam engine and we just waited for our own turn to plunge into love or companionship. Perhaps the larger life eventually evens out everything; nobody is a total loser and nobody is an outright winner in this complex mundane world. Some may gain on riches; some may find affection, friends, peace, or health. But nobody has a claim on everything totally (except a few yogis!). Neither the royalty nor the wandering mendicant in the public square. 

Here, the NPR radio is archiving people’s lives and tender moments with oral recordings and interviews. The program “Story Corps” tries to bring the young and old together and bridge the generational gap. Much of the emotional trauma of the present day youth could be due to excessive insularity and lack of people-to-people interaction in sunny outside environs.

I was a transfer student in high school. Suddenly I got shifted from the well-run Zilla Parishad village school to municipal high school with some piled on new subjects. I lost all my former friends, carefully cultivated for over six years. But I had no time to pick new friends – the town was new and the course work was too heavy to concentrate on anything else. We had to sit for the board (School Final) exams in less than twenty months. Just one set of terminal exams to determine our fate. For the group subjects (math, science, and social studies) we had to cover all the topics spread over the final three years. I used to get up around 4:30 a.m. and sit for a recap of the previous day’s lessons. A preppy L. R. Eswari Telugu song would wake me up and alert my senses in the wee hours – the music would blare from the neighboring café. The hapless meagerly paid boarding servants had to start the boiler and wood fire for the morning coffee, idli, and dosa menus. After a quick shower and breakfast I had to walk three quarters of a mile to attend the Morning Prayer (and Pledge) in the school grounds at 9:00 a.m. sharp. The dhoti-clad head master gave strict instructions to the (bell-ringing) peon – lock the front gate after 9:10 a.m., promptly. No exceptions for anyone!

Despite my timidity and reserved character I quickly developed friendship with two friends with bicycles. With a short recess we had to go home for piping hot midday lunch, hurriedly pick up the books for the afternoon session, and run back to the school. Many times my friends offered help; they would ask me to sit on the back (the carrier/pillion) and carry me through the crowded main street, crossing the canal via a narrow old bridge next to the bullock cart, and drop me at our house. Some times I would sit in the front on the horizontal bar (Top Tube) with my hands loosely grabbing the handle bar. Such rides though enjoyable and efficient in transporting – they always frightened me due to the super speed. I could have easily slipped from the rear pillion and fell on the wayside. But my friends were very caring and attentive to my apprehension, fear on my scared face.  

One day a post card landed on the headmaster’s (Sri G K Sastry) desk in the front office. It was addressed to one final year (11th std.) girl student. We, the top three final year students were in the close purview of our teachers. Three of us were known to all the teachers as toppers. My opponent (GPR) in the adjoining section stood always first and I came a pitiable second. The girl in the story was always trailing us, steadily holding on to the third rank in the board (school) finals. Thus during one of those steamy hot summer days my friend succumbed to the love bug. All the girl students were placed in a separate “C” section and we boys in the remaining two sections were cruelly deprived of their company. Of course we would see each other in the grounds, hallway, and during the usual entrance and exit times. This girl (the addressee) was the daughter of our local Railway Station Master. As I try to remember now our school could boast quite a few pretty faces; except for a fleeting glance hardly I had time to spend on such distracting matters then.

Now, this post card had a simple innocent message: “Dear Varalakshmi, I love you intensely. Do you love me too?” The message was in Telugu script but it was encrypted. None of us could read it including most of the teaching faculty - except one Science Teacher! He quickly grabbed a mirror from the laboratory and looked at the post card in the mirror. Lo! The whole thing revealed nicely. Till today I do not know what happened after that. Everything was kept under the wraps. I came to know about it much later through tertiary (hearsay) sources. I used to see our special girl student during our daily commute to the nearby College - our pre-University days. But it was only for a year and then the Railway Master got transferred, so I recall. Thereafter I completely lost touch with our female high school classmates.

We all used to merrily commute to Narsapur daily in the RTC bus and steam engine powered crawling passenger shuttle train. I still remember the giggling, the hush- hush whispers, and the clumsy long lab notebooks clutching youth walking wearily between the College and home. Those days would never return. I was in touch with my friend (the daring) Naidu till sophomore in degree. Then we parted ways, he into medicine and me into sciences. Always I used to get tea or coffee and spicy snacks at his house. Often we would go to the terrace and exchange our progress in studies and life.

An interesting puzzle solved by our science teacher. Five thousand years back Rukmini sent a love letter to Krishna, resulting in a successful runaway elopement and marriage. Here in this case, my friend’s attempt - not bad in the larger scheme of things. Had it worked out it would have been the first love marriage in our small town, rather in our close circle of school alums! Copyright 2023 by the author

Spirituality, Food, and the Body

Spirituality, Food, and the Body (Sri Ramakrishna's Advice)

388. Q: “When Brahman is present everywhere and exists with everyone, what is the objection to eating food from others?”

A: I think you are a Brahmin boy that is why you are asking such a question. Suppose you lit a matchstick and cover (smother) it with a pile of sticks. What happens?

Q: The small fire (of matchstick) will be extinguished quickly.

A: What happens if you throw moist banana plant trunks into a raging hot bonfire?

Q: The banana stems and leaves will turn into ash in a moment.

A: Similarly, when your adhyatmika (related to atma, soul) power is feeble (little) if you accept food from all sundry people without discrimination (hygiene, purity) then your spiritual energy may get suppressed (or extinguished). That is the danger involved in such acts. But if your (spiritual) energy is very powerful, then it does not matter which food you eat. There is no harm (i.e., when you are strong and evolved further in the right adhyatmika path).

389. Once I used to follow the tradition of Islam, after getting initiation from a Moslem guru. I followed their habits of food and chanting. In those days I could not go to the Kali temple. Neither could I chant any sacred Hindu god’s (devata’s) name.

390. Do not eat food offered during the times of wake (funeral). Such meals destroy bhakti and faith. Also do not eat at the home of a priest who earns his livelihood by attending to the last rites and funerals. 

391. “Can we not eat whatever is available?”

A: It depends on our adhyatmika-state (~ evolved spiritual state). In the jnana path, there is no harm; when the jnani eats, (s)he offers the food to the (kundalini) fire as oblation. But the situation of a bhakta is different. The devotee must eat only pious (fresh) food that can be (has been) offered to the Lord (Eswara) without any limitation. Non-vegetarian food is not appropriate for the devotee. Yet, if some one lives on porcine meat (ex: Kannappa of Sri Kalahasthi, Andhra Pradesh*) while devoutly attached to God – then that individual must be counted as a blessed (fortunate) one! Another man even after consuming only properly prepared sacred food, if his mind is caught up with woman and gold (money) matters – then consider that individual to be the most unfortunate one. 

392. Whoever does not long for the “Brahman”, for him even the sattvik food would only be as harmful as beef. Whoever yearns for the “Brahman”, for him even the beef becomes as proper as “ambrosia”.

393. During the day eat till you’re satiated. But consume less during nighttime.

394. For the “bhakta”, only food that does not generate heat or excitement is appropriate. Love for the body means simply “protecting the body”.

395. Q: How to overcome the love for the body?

A: Human body is built with perishable elements of nature. These are: flesh, tissue, bones, and blood. Thus it is just a heap of “distasteful things”, and nothing else. By constantly discriminating (delineating) thus (on the gross body), over indulgence of the body is lessened.

396. Once the bird flies away, the significance of the cage is lost. Nobody cares about the case (enclosure) anymore. Similarly, nobody wants the body once “the bird of life” has flown away! Nobody wants the corpse.

397. When this body is insignificant, worthless, and impermanent why do the saints and bhaktas protect such a body? If a box has nothing then no one will care about the empty shell. If a box contains valuable jewels, gold, and other precious things then everybody will safeguard the “safe”.

(Excerpts translated from the Telugu work: “Sri Ramakrishna Bodhamrutamu” by Sri Chirantanaanda Swami. * Added by the translator) Copyright 2023 by the author