A song of light

Today, back home from a long day at work, I found myself humming an old Rafi song…prompted my daughter who was with her computer in the other room to come around and say - ‘hey, thats a lovely tune Pa!’…A song penned so beautifully by Majrooh Sultanpuri and set to such a haunting melody by Hrittik Roshan’s baap ka baap….

Heres a youtube link to the song:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ik6cd0VBKI8&feature=related 

Heres the lyrics of the song, and a rough translation that I have attempted that can be hummed to the same tune….

Have a sip…

**

Ab Kya Misaal Doon Maein Tumhare Shabaab Ki
Insaan Ban Gayee Hai Kiran Mahtaab Ki

Oh what simile can I come up with for this loveliness thats yours
A ray of moonlight has turned around and become a woman of such allure

Chehre Mein Ghul Gaya Hai Haseen Chandni Ka Noor
Aankhon Mein Hai Chaman Ki Jawan Raat Ka Suroor
Gardan Hai Ek Jhuki Hui Daali Gulab Ki
Ab Kya Misaal Doon…

In your visage has mixed and melted the effulgence of moonlight
In your eyes is the exhuberence of a fresh blossom of the night
Your neck is like a bent stem
Stem, of a lovely rose…
O what simile…

Gesu Khule To Shaam Ke Dil Se Dhuan Uthe
Chhule Kadam To Jhukke Na Phir Aasman Uthe
Sau Baar Jhilmilaye Shama Aaftab Ki
Ab Kya Misaal Doon…

Darkness of dusk smokes with envy when your tresses you unfurl
When the sky stoops and kisses your feet, it rises not, my girl!
You of the light of hundreds,
yea hundreds of Sun’s glows…
O what simile…

Unearthing a poem

My grandfather, Dr K Vaidyanathan, passed away more than four decades ago. He had some stepsiblings, who went their own ways, and I have met them rarely, and some, not at all. Recently, I came to know that my grandfather’s youngest step-brother resides in my city, but in a far suburb. I phoned him up, introduced myself from forgotten pages of his mind. And today, I went across to meet him. He is now in his eighties, and bears a remarkable resemblance to my grandather. It felt very special to meet him - almost a feeling of transcending time itself, if you will. It was the stuff of poetry.

As memories of my grandfather enrich my mind, I give below, one of his poems, published in his book ‘Dawn and other poems’, in 1934.

A POET’S FEAST

A Poet’s no dreamer of mundane mould
His heart’s ever young., his head ever old,
He sees and hears his own voice and face
In the objects he beholds; so learn ye to trace
His heart-and-mind communion with th’ great Beyond
Express’d in Creation whose symbols here and yong,
Big with divine content, let go the sparks
That shine eternally by God’s Finger-marks -
He speaks through all, hears through all, sees through all,
His is the world, and judge ye not his noble call.
Grant him his place, and let him breathe and live
For his is the feast, tho’ ye the hosts that give.

Pongal Cricket

Happy Pongal!

After a heavy Pongal lunch, and a good siesta, surfing channels at some twenty minutes past 4 pm, I came upon an old treasure. On ESPN TV.

They were showing highlights of that old test at Old Trafford. India versus England. England had piled up something above 400, thanks to a ton by big boy Botham.

India in reply had lost three quick wickets. And then Kapil Dev and Sandip Patil got together. Kapil played a brilliant quickfire knock, and the pair brought the score to some degree of respectability. Then Kapil was out knicking the ball to the keeper (good catch, that one…off a spinner…very little time to react…)…Madan Lal comes in….Sandip lifts a spinner over long on for a clean six….Clean as a whistle…

And then England takes the new ball.

Sandip Patil on 80, facing Bob Willis.

And then he smashes six fours of one 7 ball over (one no ball), to reach and get past his hundred. What a treat to watch, and re-watch! He smashes one to the off side boundary! Slaps another, a rising chest-high bouncer, back past the bowler to the long off boundary….And it wasnt a slog shot either….Beautifully balanced, elegant shot…hooks one to square leg boundary….smashes one to cover, and one to deep point….Brilliant batting! Batting Power at its best! And then Botham comes and bowls….A rising delivery…Sandip pulls it from outside the off, keeps it down, and smashes it in front of square! Take that! Festival stuff! Happy Pongal! Patil ends the day unbeaten on 129.

That was some session between Patil and England!

Sunny Gavaskar, talking of that match mentioned that when they went to Pakistan next…When the Indian team got off the bus, or whatever, someone asked Patil - “Whats your name? Aapka naam kya hai?”…And a teammate replied “Willis sey poochO! (Ask Willis)”.

The great bird that climbed

There are some people whose names remain etched in the minds of all mankind. Prominent among those are some great adventurer-explorers, who capture the imagination of all people, spread a wave of joy across the globe by their incredible feats. Who can forget Neil Armstrong and Edwin Aldrin? And who can forget Tenzing Norkay and Edmund Hillary?

Today Sir Edmund Hillary is no more.

He, more than many others, was symbolic of the world-citizen - a man who belonged to the whole world, rather than any one country. The Tibetan and Sherpa name of Everest is Chomolungma, which means “Mother Goddess of the World”. Edmund was her child, and from whatever bits and pieces that one has read of him from time to time, one did get the feeling that here was one ‘humane’ person, a model man. Here was a person who not only scaled the Everest, but also set up schools, hospitals, bridges, water-supplies, airstrips and such for the people in Himalayas. Here was a person who enjoyed challenging life, with the tools of honest toil. Lamenting about the ‘Everest Changes’ (See here), Sir Edmund said mountaineering was a challenge between the mountain and the mountaineer and accused some people of paying their way to the summit. “Having people pay $65,000 and then be led up the mountain by a couple of experienced guides, I personally think, is far less attractive. It isn’t really mountaineering at all,” he said.

While he is best known for the ascent of Everest, his ‘ocean to sky’ expedition in India, captured my ‘heartshare’ even more. In this expedition, he went by speed boat from the mouth of river Ganga, in the bay of Bengal, back along the river, right through the heart of India, up the mountains, and onto Badrinath, near the source of the river…A breathtaking expedition. A Theerth-Yatra, a pilgrimage…

A Kiwi is a flightless bird. But it sure can climb. Keep climbing, Sir Edmund…The great Yatra has no stops…

Let them meditate

This happened on 27^th Dec too.

A far-seeing CEO called his colleague and gave him the breaking news - he’d just heard  the horrible news that Benazir-B had been shot dead.

The CEO was in a state of shock.   

“How could anyone do this?” he spluttered. “Why is there so much unrest in the minds of people?” he frothed.  And after much fretting, he prescribed “People at large should be taught meditation, pranayama”. His unspoken core-complaint : ‘We cant have arbitrary people going around putting an end to the life of leaders!’

Nothing like the news of a sudden death to unnerve a man of success. Imagine! A life of great worth being stopped cold! Infarc (the insiders word for heart attack), a fell disease, an accident, or whatever. How is a man to be safe?

Fie upon these invisible killers! If only Infarc is ‘man’ enough to come in front, a CEO can pink-slip it, or depute it to some hard country, and empty it’s in-tray. If only ‘accident’ could surface with a fair warning, say in the graph of the Chief Corporate Risk Manager’s weekly report, some mitigating steps could be taken. As such, it is not clear what the Risk Management group is doing to earn its wages.

This brings to mind a question from Yaksha Prashna of Mahabharata…The Yaksha (apparition) asks Yudhisttira: “What is the greatest of all wonders?”

Yudhisttira answers: ” Day after Day, countless creatures die. Yet those, who are left behind, believe themselves to be deathless. What can be more wonderful than this?”

Well perhaps the quote is unfair. It is not that the man thinks he is deathless. But he sure wants life to be long, if not longer. One top-brass corporate honcho once mentioned to me that in the 21st century, we should be able to live upto 125 years, if we can do the right things. And then there is Professor Michael Zey, author of ‘Future Factor’, and consultant to top American companies on future planning. He believes (see here ) that advances in stem cell science, genetic engineering, and nano technology will enable human life-span to increase to 125-150 years by 2050 and by 2075 we will be “on the verge of immortality”.

Which is all very nice and fine, but what do you do if a sniper has a shot at you? What must be done to avoid this.

That was the question that troubled the far-seeing CEO. And his suggestion: ‘Teach the masses to meditate’.

Which is a noble suggestion, and quite literally takes the cake, when compared to the statement of Queen Marie-Antoinette, who, when told that the French populace had no bread to eat, had replied “Let them eat cake”.

Swami Ramanananda, Samadhi - Photo Feature 4

Along with chants of ‘Arunachala Siva’, the body is lowered into the pit.  

 

A sanyasi leads the rituals of Samadhi.

People crowd around the samadhi area, jostling to participate. The samadhi pit is filled with different items…Salt, vibhooti (ash), camphor, flower petals….

Heres another picture.

 

It is really a crush of people out there. The video-photographer from across the seven seas manages to somehow find a place to shoot from.

 

In the pit, the yoga-danda (the stick) of Sanyasa is erected alongside the body of Swami Ramanananda. Brahmachari boys from the Ashram Patashala chant Veda Mantras. The pit is filled. Stone slabs are brought and laid on top of the pit. Final flowers are offered, before the last slab-cover is placed.

 Thus ends the solemn occasion of the samadhi of Swami Ramanananda, the nephew of Sri Ramana Maharshi.

Signing off, here’s a picture taken outside the room where he used to reside.

Two beautiful birds, one symbolizing life, and the other, it’s twin, death, stand on this side of a chasm. On the other side of the chasm, is the Arunachala mountain. The structures that you see in the picture are samadhi (burial) spots of great sages like Muruganaar, Vishwanatha Swami etc, who have crossed over this chasm of life and death…Just like this third bird is doing. Can you spot the third bird? (You can see it walking on the pipe-bridge, near the base of the tree)…

The first two birds, can not proceed boyond the chasm. The third bird, quite non-descript, having renounced wing and vanity,  quietly walks across on the simple and straight bridge of Atma-vichaara, and attains Arunachala.

Like Swami Ramanananda did.