Telugu Lyrics of Matru Gitamu

మాతృ గీతము 

సంగీతము, సాహిత్యము 

స్వరవీణాపాణి  

పుట్టిన నేల తల్లి పాలిచ్చిన ముద్దుల తల్లి మాట

మాగాణుల నిచ్చిన తెలుగు తల్లి ఈ ముగ్గురి తీరు తెలుపగా

పుట్టిన గడ్డకు ఎదురునిల్చి సరితూగెడి స్వర్గము లేనె

లేదు ఆ మట్టికి మారుగా మనసుదోచెడి యంత్రము సృష్టి 

యందు భూతద్దము వేసి చూసినను ఎచ్చట కానరాదు 

స్పృసియించిన చాలు మట్టి నీకిచ్చెడి మధురమైన అనుభూతుల  

పొరల తెరలు తొలగించుచు చూడు బాల్యమున ముద్దుగ బొద్దుగ

వచ్చిరాని వయ్యారపు నడకల పరుగు పరుగుతో బోసిగ

నవ్వు నింపుతూ బోలెడు మట్టి పెడ్డలను పప్పు చెక్కలుగ

గోడల మొత్తన దాగిదాగి ఫలహారముగా తిని ఉరుకు 

పెట్టి ఆమట్టిలొ దొర్లిదొర్లి ఆటాడగ అలుపురాగ

ఆ గోడకు జారి నిద్రలో జోగినవేళ జన్మకిక రాదిక

రాదురాదు ఆ తీయని కమ్మని గుర్తులు పురిటిగడ్డపై

మట్టికి వాసనుండుట మహత్తరమైన సత్యమే దానిని

నిగ్గు తేల్చునది నీ మదిలో మమకార భంధమే ప్రాణము

లున్నవరకు నీ ఊరను పేరును కలువరించు ఆ భాగ్యమె

చాలుచాలు నీ మనసున నిండుగా పదిల పరచుటయే 

పదివేలు కోటినీ జన్మలు కోరెడి పుణ్యభూమిలో పుట్టిన               (1)

ధన్యజీవివై మేలుకు మేలు చేసెడి సమున్నత భావ

శీలివై కీడుకు కూడ మేలు ఒనరించెడి ధార్మిక బుద్ధి 

శాలివై ఊరిని ఊరకనే తలవక ఉపకారము చేయు

ధ్యాసలో గర్వము వద్దు నీకు ఆ మట్టిని ముద్దిడు భాగ్యమె

చాలు జన్మలే చాలవు తీరని ఋణముల తీపి గుర్తులౌ

వింతలో వింత గాక పలుజన్మలు సాధ్యమె ఒక్క జన్మలో

బిడ్డకు జన్మనిచ్చు ప్రతికానుపు తల్లికి పునర్జన్మయే

అర్ధము కాని ఈ క్రియకు అదియు అంతము అమ్మ ఒక్కతే

సృష్టికి మూలమైన ఆ దేవుని చేతిలో బొమ్మ అమ్మ

ప్రతి సృష్టిని చేయగలట్టి సాధనా శక్తికి మారు రూపు

నీ తల్లికి సాటిలేరు లేరెక్కడ వేరెవరైన చూపగా 

పాలుగ రక్తబిందువుల మార్చెడి మంత్రము అమ్మసొంతమే 

కాదనకుండ లేదనక బిడ్డకు స్థన్యము నిచ్చి ధన్యతను

పొందెడి మాతృమూర్తి నీ జన్మకు కారణ కరుణ రూపమై
ధ్యానము చేయు ఎల్లపుడు ధ్యాసయు స్వాసయు బిడ్డకోసమే 
ఓర్పుకు మారుపేరు ఓదార్పే ఇంటిపేరు ఔదార్యము 
అసలు పేరు మమకారము ముద్దుపేరు అనురాగమె అమ్మ 
పేరు అలుపెరుగని ఆత్మ స్థైర్యమునకు ధైర్యము నిచ్చెడి దిట్ట       (2) 

అమ్మ కనుసన్నల స్వార్థము శాస్వతంబుగా తిరుగుచునుండు

భూమిలా బిడ్డల యోగక్షేమమే ఆమెకు ముఖ్యము గనుక

జన్మనే ఇచ్చిన తల్లికి మాటతడయుగా ఇచ్చితి ఇచ్చితి

ననుచు గొప్పగా చెప్పిడి బిడ్డల పిచ్చి మాటలకు అర్థము

లుండున ఏ నిఘంటువును వెతికిన వెతికిన ఏమి ఫలితము

పుచ్చిన పుచ్చ కాయలో తీపిగ పుచ్చు కొనుటునే భావన

వున్న అమ్మ నువ్విచ్చెడి ప్రేమ మాత్రమే జీవిత కాలము

పుచ్చుకొనుతకే పుట్టితి నన్న కన్న ఆ తీపికి రుచిని

చెప్ప ఏ దేవుడు నోరు మెదుపునో లెక్కకు ఒక్కడుండునా?

పుట్టుక నుండి నోరుగల జీవివి మాత్రమె మూగి మొద్దువే

భాషలతల్లి జాలిపడి తెలుగును ఉగ్గుపాలలో కలిపిన

భాగ్యమె నేడు నీకు ఈ మాటల పుట్టలు తేనె పట్టులుగ

తీపి గుట్టలై హాయిన తెలుగుతల్లి పదసంపద చెట్టుకు

ఊగు ఊయలై, కోయిన కూతలంటి కులుకైన కవిత్వపు

కన్నె సొగసులై, పద్యపు, గద్యపు నృత్యలయల సంగీతపు

సుస్వర వీణాపాణియై హరికధ బుర్ర కధలుగా అద్భుత

దృశ్య శ్రవణ కావ్యాలకు మాటల ఊటల మోటబావులై

భాషకు అసలు సిసలైన యాసల ఊసుల ప్రౌఢకాంతయై                (3)

చక్కిల గింతల జానపదాలకు కిన్నెరసానుల పల్లె
కాంతులై అవనిలోనె అలరారెడి భాషల తెలుగు మిన్నయై
భూమికి హక్కులైన నలు దిక్కుల పెట్టున నీకు ఖ్యాతి
నందించిన తెలుగుతల్లి నీకీయని దెక్కడ దాచుకున్నది?
తీయని తెలుగుజాతికే సేవల గొప్పలు వద్దు వద్దు
నీ బ్రతుకుకె వెలుగునిచ్చు పద సంపదకే ప్రతి రోజు మ్రొక్కుతూ
ముగ్గురు తల్లుల ఋణము తీర్ప నీ జన్మల జన్మలు వేయి
చాలునా పొట్టను చేతబట్టుకొని ఆకలి ముద్దల బార
సాలకై రియ్యున రియ్యుమంటు శరవేగముతో పయనించు 
బాటసారెక్కడ? రెక్కలు ముక్కలు చేసుకొనుచునూ పట్టిన
చెమట బిందువులలో తన తల్లులుగా ప్రతిబింబ రూపముల 
చూచుచు అక్కున చేర్చుకొనెడి ఆనందము నొందుచు నుండు
గుండె గాయాలకు ప్రేమను వెన్నరాసి తడియారని కన్నుల
తీపిజ్ఞాపకాలన్నిటి నెమరువేసుకొని నిత్యము నూతన
శక్తి పొందుతూ బంగరు భవితకు నాంది పలుకుతూ అనితర
సాధ్యమైన విజ్ఞనపు ఊడల మఱ్ఱి చెట్టువై నీతి
నియమ సూత్రాలకు ఉత్తమ మాలరూపమై ముందుకుసాగు
సాహసికి సర్వము సాధ్యము శ్రీకర శుభములు అన్ని వేళలా           (4)

(Recently Sri Swaravinapani has composed this unique Telugu lyric which contains all the 72 Melakarta ragas in a single song. He has been going around many Indian cities giving music performances. Many years ago Dr Balamuralikrishna composed songs in all the 72 Melakarta ragas. The Telugu community, now spread over all the continents is immensely fortunate to have these very talented musicians. It is rare these days to have individuals who can sing, compose, and write lyrics single handedly.  Really speaking none can excel the legendary music giants like Annamayya. Perhaps nowhere in the world can one find such a humongous treasure trove of sublime music and profound literature. Music just came down from heavens like a majestic waterfall filled with the aroma of kewra - that is real creation! English translation of this song will be given in the next blog.) 

Copyright of the Telugu song, tune, and music is vested with Swaravinapani 2015

Lyrics of "Saubhagya Lakshmi Ravamma" - Telugu Song

సౌభాగ్య లక్ష్మీ రావమ్మా

అమ్మమ్మా నువ్వు  సౌభగ్య లక్ష్మి రావమ్మా  || సౌభాగ్య ||

గజ్జెల సవ్వడి ఘల్లుఘల్లుమన

ముజ్జగములను యేలెడి తల్లీ

సజ్జన సాధుల పూజలందుకొన

మజ్జిగ నెగసిన వెన్న విధమున

లెక్కకు మిక్కిలి భాగ్యములిచ్చెడి

కంకణ కరముల శోభతో రావే

కుంకుమాంకిత పంకజలోచని

వెంకటరమణుని పట్టపు రాణి

చక్కర నెయ్యి కాలువ హరిణి

శుక్కరవారపు పూజల వేళకి

అక్కరయున్న అళగిరి రాయని

చొక్కపురందర విఠలుని రాణి

saubhaagya lakshmii raavammaa

ammammaa nuvvu saubhagya lakshmi raavammaa  || saubhaagya ||

gajjela savvaDi ghallughallumana

mujjagamulanu yEleDi tallii

sajjana saadhula puujalandukona

majjiga negasina venna vidhamuna

lekkaku mikkili bhaagyamulicceDi

kankaNakaramula SObhatO raavE

kunkumaankita pankajalOchani

venkaTaramaNuni paTTapu raaNi

chakkara neyyi kaaluva hariNi

Sukkaravaarapu puujala vELaki

akkarayunna aLagiri raayani

chokkapurandara viThaluni raaNi

[This is the Telugu equivalent of the famous Purandara Dasa's composition on Sri Maha Lakshmi. A constant regret of this writer is this: My repertoire of devotional songs is woefully inadequate when it comes to Siva or arati (మంగళ హారతులు). Being naturally gifted vocal singers, both mother and sister could on the spot render a most appropriate composition on any occasion. Alas, talent is often prized and appreciated when it goes extinct.

I came across the lyrics on the internet while I was searching for songs on Lakshmi Devi. Now I cannot find that website, still I offer thanks to the anonymous individual. Certain compositions of Annamacharya, Jayadeva, Purandara Dasa, and others have extraordinary salutary effect. Great song, great composer, and great tune. I liked the version by M.S. Subbulakshmi. The meaning is given by C. R. Sudarshan at http://www.mayyam.com/talk/showthread.php?4847-Lyrics-queries-and-meaning-Kannada/page2. I will try to explain the details when I get time.]

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

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[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.] 

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*  సంధ్యారంభ విజృంభితాం శ్రుతిశిరస్స్థానాంతరాధిష్టితం
      సప్రేమభ్రమరాభిరామ మసకృత్ సద్వాసనా శోభితం

     భోగీంద్రాభరణం సమస్తసుమనః పూజ్యం గుణావిష్కృతం
     సేవే శ్రిగిరి మల్లికార్జున మహాలింగం శివాలింగితం