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July 1 - August 13, 2022
Malanada Temple in Poruvazhy village, Kerala,
‘My fate is to bring unhappiness to such beautiful creations of divinity,’
Vyasa is the illegitimate son of my stepmother Satyavathi, fathered by the sage Parashara, before her marriage to my father. Vyasa, the son of a fisherwoman, is the father of Dhritarashtra, Pandu, and Vidhura.
Life is a gamble. You do not know how the dice will fall. But once they have, how you move the pieces is in your hands.
“If we go strictly by the Vedas, a Brahmin is one who has sought and found brahma; one who has found God within himself, in his thoughts, gained through knowledge.
A Kshatriya is supposed to be one who has found God in action, by doing his duty. A Vaishya is one who has found God in trade, by creating wealth; and a Shudra is one who has found God in love, by serving society.
Stithapranja is the aim of the ideal man – to remain calm in all circumstances, all the time – in birth, death, love, war or peace.
Does the Soul die? Surely, the Soul is eternal – without beginning or end. Atma! My slice of the Universal Soul, the Supreme Paramatama.’
The soul remains, just the forms change, as per the rhythm of the universe.
Never associate any evil with a group. Hate their sins, but not the people. Be generous. Keep giving and the world will return those favours manifold.
Swaying in the wind and moving to the rhythm of the oarsmen’s song, the ship carried the young man and his burden of destiny to the dangerous land of the Gods.
Advice was cheap and everyone gave it freely to others.
Somewhere in the womb of the forest, a wild beast howled, mourning the passing of the night.
On a narrow strip of land, myriad colours bloomed, as if nature was celebrating her fecundity.
No self-respecting God would allow a good man to be happy for long. God has relevance only in the unhappiness of good people.
He did not know that life would give him not only a chance, but also a choice, all too soon.
He ran until he was sure he was safe in the embrace of nature and then he collapsed onto the moist earth. The forest was unusually warm and humid and he felt as safe as a baby in the womb. He had not wept when he severed his own thumb and buried his dreams, but now, with the trees as his only witnesses and a crescent moon leering from the sky above, the son of the forest broke into wracking sobs.
For them, hunger was an abstract concept, maya, an illusion, but for Jara it was a harsh reality.
Every principle is broken one day or another and if it is for the right cause, there is nothing wrong in that.
A few days before, under a star-sprinkled sky, on a calm sea, with the ship just an insignificant speck in the vast universe,
They knew they would never see each other again and that made the friendship feel more real and eternal.
Despite all its wonderful temples and great cities, India could not withstand an invading power for long if it continued to treat its men and women of talent like dirt just for being born into the wrong caste.
Defying the wishes of the holy men, the son of a blind man fought with passion against a man of superior strength and divine lineage.
In the world inhabited by Shakuni and Krishna, she knew her son was all alone, fighting a fool’s battle. She wanted to hold and protect her son from the world.
that attachment was the root of all misery and unhappiness.
Equanimity is the virtue leading to moksha.
Duryodhana becoming King will spell disaster for this holy land. Just look at whom he befriends – Karna the Suta, Aswathama the fallen Brahmin, Kripa the mad man, Carvaka the atheist,
A few miles away, holy men were inaugurating India’s greatest city, but the man whose name it bore continued sitting with the man who had built it.
Mayasura, the architect & Indra, the king of gods. City named Indraprastha.
Ekalavya was General Hiranyadhanus’s son,
A dog was the symbol of man’s attachment to this illusory world, whereas a cow was holy because it was unattached to its master and went through life with equanimity.
The breeze carried the faint notes of Jara’s song from across the river. To him, his song was an act of piety and prayer; for the Prince and his friends, it sounded more like the lament of a broken people clinging to the feeble straw of faith to stay alive in this turbulent world.
