Blessed to receive Birthday Wishes

కం:
పుట్టినదినంబు మఱువక
చుట్టములు అనుగ్రహించి చుూ పెనుు కృపా !
దట్టము గా దీవించుకొ
నిట్టి అదృష్టము గ్రహించు ఈ రఘు మ్రొక్కున్ !!

Kanda is a form of Meter ( referred to as Chandaha or Chandassu) used in Telugu and Kannada poetry. There are certain patterns to follow in terms of positioning of vowels, similar sounding consonants and sizes of alternating lines. This is my humble attempt at composing one such poem thanking my family members and well-wishers for greeting me on my birthday.

Hindu Lifestyle in the Digital Age and Superstitions.

We all must have played the game of telephone in High School or at least experienced a version of it. Person A whispers something to Person B, Person B is then asked to whisper the same thing to Person C, so on and so forth and the chain is played until the last person, Person Z is whispered into. When the message is checked, Person Z gets a vastly different message than what was first whispered by Person A. In real life, this does not have to play on a linear time scale. It can happen from one generation to another. This is exactly what I see happening in a few aspects of Indian culture. Dogma is reinforced and when decisions are not based on rationale principles, it leads to superstition.
Mahurat (or Muhurtas) and Jyotish: Jyotish began as a way of time keeping. Ancient Vedic scholars observed the solar and lunar cycles, position of celestial objects, seasons etc. and recorded them. They wanted to observe patterns and needed a way to predict some of the seasonal events. The prediction was meant to be within this reasonable framework and never meant to be drawn out for prediction of life events of a person.
A classical example from history I could think of is Hitler’s campaign on Russia. He started the war in July and by the time they were deep in the campaign, the onset of winter and severe weather, deeply impacted their war operations and eventually led to their defeat. (I am oversimplifying and am glad the Nazis lost, just using it as an example).
Similarly, a Chola King ruling from outskirts of Madurai in South India, if launching a war against the Deccan rulers up north, would want to time his war campaign as beneficial as possible with greater chances of winning. He would consult the scholars who then would study the weather during the journey, the monsoons, the vegetation to feed his army etc. and thus would probably advise him on the best time to wage such a war. They obviously are not going to start a war in the midst of a heavy monsoon and potentially expose the army to wet and disease borne conditions. (The importance of Uttarayana and Dakshinayana, which are time intervals between winter and summer solstice likely evolved from such practice, but I digress.) Alexander’s troops falling sick on the banks of river Beas, is possibly another example to look at.
Let’s look at how this could apply to common peasants. Indian civilization was agrarian and hence almost all life events (except events like death which are beyond human control) are planned around sowing and harvesting seasons. Marriages were avoided during peak harvest seasons while newly married brides would time their visits to their maiden homes around those cycles. Extending this reasoning to construction of new dwellings, one needs to work around those cycles wherein either the peasants built those dwellings themselves, or the rich depended on peasant labor who often doubled as construction workers. So would then Housewarming also be sequenced or scheduled on the same thought process.
Currently, where most of us work in a digital economy or service sector, do these practices have any logical foundation? I firmly believe the answer is No. What about Indians who live in Western Countries like USA. Let’s take the state of Michigan for example. Michigan unofficially has two seasons, winter and construction. All activity happens in Summer while construction is shut down in winter. It would be silly, if not dangerous, for an Indian Hindu Priest to pull out a Ground-Breaking or Housewarming Mahurat simply based on Hindu Calendar. To add to it, these rules do not apply for an existing dwelling (resale) anyways. To summarize, the practice of looking up Mahurats for life and celebratory events has highly veered towards superstition and needs a serious reset in our thought process and understanding of how the first principles impact our lives.

Vaasthu: Diving straight into this topic:
Maxim-One: “A kitchen should be placed in the “Agneyam” Corner of a Dwelling”. “Agneyam” is the South-East corner of the house, the word itself evolved from the root-word “Agni” meaning fire. Let’s take a moment to understand South Indian landscape: climate and geography. Monsoon winds blow from South/South-West to North-East. We all know that wind fans fire. It stands to reason that, if God forbid there was a fire-accident in the kitchen, this design would be the most optimum to cause the least damage to the rest of the dwelling. Would this tenet then apply to homes in the USA, especially in a city like Chicago which is described as a windy city or in Los Angeles which has a history of raging wildfires due to dry heat and various other reasons (not an expert in LA fires and beside the point). It is not only silly but outright dangerous to apply that logic. Holds no water in a city like Atlanta, with its fire codes.
Maxim -Two: “Source of water in Eeshanyam should not be in line with the entrance of dwelling”. “Eeshanyam” is the North-East corner of a dwelling and has been identified as position of water (topic for another day). Wells to draw water are often dug in this corner. In the olden days when bullock-carts were the modes of transportation (they still are in some rural parts), when a bullock-cart is entering the compound of a home, if the animal pulling the cart were to go berserk or the cart lost control, it would head straight and fall into the large dug-out well potentially causing a mishap. Hence, this tenet makes sense not to have a draw-well and a gate or entrance in line with each other. The positioning of an entrance was thus dictated on such restrictions. Let’s ask ourselves if the layout of an entrance to any dwelling in USA runs into any such similar conditions. The answer is firm No. (The equivalent, I could think of is not to have a steep driveway, avoiding any car-brake mishaps).
Maxim-three: “East facing Houses are always Auspicious”. The City of Bangalore in India is on 13* N latitude while the City of Seattle, Washington in USA is on 47°N latitude (these appx numbers are for the sake of this conversation and beside the point). With the earth’s tilt, while the Sun will almost always rise in the east in Bangalore within those 13 degrees (a narrow “V”), the sunrise in Seattle can happen anywhere between North-East to South-East Corners in the Horizon, in a year. Not to mention, the time difference between daylight between summer and winter months in Hyderabad would be a couple of hours, while in Seattle would be close to 8 hours, which is a third of a day. Carrying this belief in every part of the USA is just beyond silly and could actually interfere with one’s mental wellbeing.
To summarize, while it is not meant to say Vastu-Shastra has evolved in vacuum or is insignificant, applying it blindly to our modern lives or decision making in USA, without aligning with the basics, is just futile and is ripe with superstition. The spirit of ancient wisdom should prevail over the letter.

Disclaimer: It is not my intention to hurt anyone’s feelings or beliefs but to promote rational thinking. A difference of opinion based on objectivity and rationale thinking is always welcome.

A tryst with unknown

Introduction
“Well…aa…I think…actually…” Never heard my bother-in-law mincing words before. “Your dad passed away few minutes ago and you should fly home”. He blurted out.
My Friday evening had been like most, before that one phone call, which would etch it into my memory forever.
Work had been keeping me busy. Looking at the orange tinge in the sky, I was forecasting that the next couple of weeks were going to be great. At work, my team will be wrapping up a major phase in our project, the client will be highly content, and we will all be appreciated. I will be on one of the calls soaking up some adulation when my phone ran breaking my reverie. It was my sister at the other end.
“Why don’t you ever pick up the phone”? my sister yelled.
I paused. I don’t always carry my phone with me, but this was not the time to get into an argument over phone etiquette.
“Can’t this wait until tomorrow?”. I asked. Dusk had started settling in.
“It can’t”. She took a deep breath.
“Dad had been sick for the last two days since he got that covid booster shot. Mom had to rush him to the hospital. You would know if you called home”. She said with a mix of sarcasm and annoyance.
“Call home and stay close to the phone”. She ordered with a tone of authority that elder siblings have.
“Ok, I will”. I managed to get those two words out before she ended the call. I caught myself with a muffled voice. Guilt seeped in.
Tomorrow, when I call, I will ask my dad about all his post retirement community activities, I said to myself. The guilt waned away a bit.
My phone rang again interrupting my thoughts. Seeing my brother-in-law’s name on the screen, I picked up the phone.
“Were you asleep already?” Not much of a small talker, he asked.
“Not really”. I responded.
There was a long pause. I was wondering why he would call me this late into the night but wasn’t going to ask.
“Aaa…..your Dad isn’t doing fine”, he murmured.
“Yes, I heard” I said, being mindful of my tone. Some families have space between brothers-in-law akin to an elephant in a room.
“Well…aa…I think…actually…” Never heard my bother-in-law mincing words before. “Your dad passed away few minutes ago and you should fly home”. He blurted out.
That tomorrow will never arrive.

A Long night
I put the phone down. What did I just hear? How is this even possible? A million thoughts were racing through my head. I walked to the kitchen sink to grab a glass of water from the faucet but did not take a sip. I went to the bathroom to relieve myself but stood there for a few minutes without doing anything. My mind lost its fulcrum and swinging all over the place. I turned on the TV so I could hear some human noises. I switched it off but then silence was no better. A second felt like an hour and a minute like a day. I glanced at my phone to see a few more missed calls. A few numbers from my cousins and relatives and a few that I did not realize but weren’t spam either. They are probably calling me for the first time. I did not return any of the calls. What are they going to say to me? How was I supposed to respond back? The few conversations that I have every day are always well thought out. At work, the conversation is always about specifics. Outside work, the conversations are about making dinner or weekend plans or about upcoming vacations. During the day, every word that I speak and every task that I do is in familiar territory. I am a creature of habit, and this was going to be a long night.
Unknown
Twenty-four hours have passed since that phone call and the conversation kept playing in my head. My flight had landed in the wee hours of the following Monday morning. Looking out the window of my cab, I see lush green paddy fields, milk vendors balancing their crates and shining vats reflecting from the sunlight, hanging on both sides of their two wheelers. I lowered the window down only to smell the air reek of cow dung doused in urine. Unlike most of my trips, wherein I would get ecstatic as my hometown gets closer, I am feeling my stomach churn. My palms are sweating and the Irani Chai sold on the roadside stalls does not look enticing. Was I secretly hoping the ride would last forever?
Growing up, my parents rarely chided me for anything. As with most children of our age, there were some basic house rules like keeping good grades and returning before dark. If there were not too many transgressions, I was fine. I abided by the rules because it was easier that way. My parent’s home was located more than half-a-mile away from the nearest market center. There was a swamp on the way back home where the lane gets narrower. Most of the lots were empty on either side of the street, no streetlights all along and with thorny bushes spread rampantly. So, when times I returned late on a cloudy day, I could smell the musk of the stagnant cold water and feel the chill from the cool breeze. Walking alone, I would hear frogs croaking and street dogs barking a few feet away. But I never hesitated from taking that solitary stroll. I cannot remember being afraid of anything.
The ride had to inevitably end, and I was at the gate, fiddling with the handle to open it. The bolt which had always been skewed sideways was only adding to my anxiety and I secretly hoped the gate would never let me in. My palms were sweating profusely and the hair from my follicles stood upright. My voice had been crippled as if a monster was sitting in my throat and locked it down. My entire body had static and the marrow in my bones was frozen. Holding onto my luggage so my fingers wouldn’t fidget, I was taking one step at a time walking through the verandah into the living room. My neighbor’s maid who was hanging the clothes dry on the terrace, paused and I could sense her gaze on me. Nothing in my life until now had prepared me for anything like this.
How would I walk into a home knowing the walls would echo the boisterous laugh of a man, but the man would be no where to be found. The voice which would fondly call me as “kakki” has been muted forever.
One summer in ninth grade, when I must have been twelve or thirteen, I was playing badminton with my sister in my neighbor’s front yard, when the shuttle cock fell over the terrace. While climbing the terrace to retrieve it, I tripped over a piece of steel that was protruding from the unfinished concrete and fell flat on some gravel. The corner of my forehead burst open barely missing my right eye. Hearing me cry, my dad rushed over and picked me up in his arms to take me inside and I healed in less than a week. I cannot remember the last time I was there for him when he was sick. He fell sick after getting a booster shot and I did not bother finding out. I was tasting warm blood in my mouth from memories of that injury thirty years ago.
How would I face my mom who had just lost her husband of fifty years? The man she chose at the age of twenty. The man from whom she couldn’t take her eyes off when she first saw him in his services uniform. The man whom she came to know as always being kind and generous. The man for whom she defined all conventional norms of the sixty’s decade when most marriages were arranged. The man with whom she who would bicker and quarrel fiercely and at the same time cook and feed tenderly. The man with whom she stood by, through thick and thin all these years and never left a single day. The man who was fit as a fiddle and running errands the day before. Like a hawk that scoops a chick away, that man vanished in the split of a second.

The gate finally flung open and so did all my pent-up emotions. My heavy feet which were dragging up until that moment, lightened up and ran towards my mom. She took me into her arms and began to cry. This fear, I realized, the most dreadful emotion in my life, had come to pass.
I stood there at the hospital morgue staring at him lying flat in a freezer. He is smiling back with his serene face. He looked a bit puffed up as if he just gobbled down a dozen of his favorite sweetmeats. I can feel his spirit floating in the air as if saying things are fine.
The staff person on duty looked at me looking at my dad, howled: “aren’t you here to take him home”?
One of my cousins who was with me responded, “Yes”.
All four of my cousins who came along with me, jumped in, moved him from the freezer and unto the van, in which were going to take him home. I noticed, they left the insulated box behind and transferred him onto a regular crate. The driver of the van turned the engine on and was shifting gears before I even had a chance to protest. This was a pre-cursor to how things were going to unfold.
We were home in about thirty minutes, and I had a sense there was going to be a lot of activity for the next couple of hours. The same set of cousins now moved him from the van and let him rest in our living room. “You can’t let his feet face east”, said a voice in the back. No, it’s the front of the house, said another. They squabbled a bit and finally agreed to move him around and laid him facing North. A lamp was lit and placed on his head-side. An aunt of mine came over and pushed the lamp a feet away announcing that was the exact spot it needs to be. Neighbors, residents of the local colony, former co-workers, aunts and uncles living nearby, people were coming in to pay their last respects. I hugged a few of them feeling the sweat on their backs and smelling the flowers they brought in. The crowd was splattered a bit with the women seated around my mom in circles while men stood in files of two in the front-yard. A bare-chested man with his pigtail protruding from his cranium and a shaved scalp walked in. He was wearing a saffron dhoti with pleats tucked into his lower back and a cloth bag hanging sideways on his shoulder. His forehead was smeared with lines of tilak and ash. “The priest has arrived” announced someone into thin air. He emptied the contents out of his bag and walked towards me. Chewing his betel nut, he asked a rhetorical question, “Are you the son”? He started tying a palm twig onto my pinky finger without bothering for my affirmation. For the next few minutes, he would recite some mantra and sprinkle some holy water around. Folks around me were looking at him in awe like a shaman performing voodoo and believed he was the facilitator in sending my dad to heaven and drive the evil spirits away. I was looking at him like an illusionist who had a specific repertoire for each event.
I thought this would go on for a bit when he abruptly announced, “we are ready to go”. My dad was then moved onto a chair, was made to sit upright with help from folks holding his arms, trunk and head steady. Two huge steel vats of water were emptied on him giving him one last shower while I was hoping the deluge would wake him up. I turned around to see two helpers putting together a scaffolding frame of one level, made of bamboo and the cross joints tightened with knots made of coconut leaves. He was then made to lie on the scaffold horizontally. Four men gathered around the scaffold and lifted it like a palanquin and placed him on the back of a truck. I stepped onto the truck perfunctorily and followed. I turned around to see if my sister was climbing onto the truck when I noticed all the women were standing a file, further away. It then occurred to me that women don’t go to cremation yards. We reached a yard where pyres were spread like podiums and every third one was engulfed in flames.
As the scaffold was lowered from the truck, and men carrying it were headed to the pyre, “lower the frame” ordered the priest. He then looked at me and asked, “What do you address your father as”? “Dad”, I replied in auto mode without having the disposition to understand the question. “Holler into your father's ear by saying Dad three times”, he continued. I moved closer to his ear and called him thrice. That one last ritual did not wake him from his eternal slumber. All the men at the yard were now resigned to move him onto the last step.

The dais was an elevated concrete platform with couple of steps to climb. There were left over ashes that were hot and cinders of coal still burning fresh from a cremation few hours ago. One of the helpers took a broom and swept some away. The priest then climbed onto the dais, sprinkled some of his water and recited a mantra. I was asked to place three firewood logs at the marked spot. Rest of the task was quickly taken away from me and a bed of logs, three feet high were placed. The men then lifted the scaffold on which my dad was resting and placed him along with the frame on the pyre. The priest then filled a clay pot full of water and asked me to carry it on my head and simultaneously circumambulate the pyre three times. While I was doing my ritual one step at a time, he poked a hole in the clay pot with a pebble and the waterspout was marking the perimeter wet. Once the pot was drained empty, I was asked to let it go and just let the pot crash into pieces on the ground. The priest then ignited the torch and handed it over to me. He then commanded: “Light the pyre but once it is lit, walk away and do not look back”. I continued obeying the instructions and walked away but my head couldn’t resist from angling a bit and I saw the log-bed on the pyre. It lit up slowly at his feet but quickly spread across and the whole pyre was engulfed in flames. I could feel my Dad’s hair, skin and internal organs getting incinerated. His physical body was being reduced to ashes while his soul was being released and rising through the flames. One last pass through a scorching hell on earth before being ushered to the heavens.

I returned home after the cremation, staying in disbelief if things were unfolding the way they were. As I approached the gate, I was quickly intercepted by my uncles. A bucket of water with a tumbler was placed at the gate. Standing there, I took a shower with my funeral clothes on, as asked and changed into a fresh dhoti. I was cleansed from all the funeral activities. Maybe there was some meaning into these if I looked deeper. Maybe the shaman knew the directions to heaven and spoke the language of Gods. I discarded the funeral clothes and kicked them away. I opened the gate and did not fiddle with the bolt anymore. As I entered the home, I realized there was nothing to avoid and I was ready to process one emotion at a time.

श्री वैभव स्तव శ్రీ వైభవ స్తవః ( Praise of Vishnu):An Interpretation

1. శ్రియో: వైశిష్ట్యం యద్భవతి పరమప్రాపికాభూతనం త దేవ ధ్యేయం చేతన జనచయైః స్వస్వరూపాను రూపాత్ । త దన్యం నిష్ర్పాష్యం తదపరిమితానర్థదం చేత్ర్పణంతుం పుర స్కుర్వే లక్ష్మీం తతమిధున శేషత్వసిద్ధ్యై రమేశం ॥ 1. श्रियो: वैशिष‍्ट्य‌म् यद्भवति परमप्रापिकाभूतन‌‍म् त देव ध्येय‌म् चेतन जन च यैः स्‍वस्‍वरूपानुरुपात् । त धन्यम् निष्प्राश्यम् तदपरिमितानर्तदम् चेत्प्रणन्तु‍म् पुरस्कुर्वै लक्श्मीम् ततमिधुन शेषत्व सिद्दै्य रमेष‍म् ॥ Key words Shriyoh: Shriya's ( another name for Lakshmi); Vaishistam: Speciality or attribute; Yath Bhavathi:that present; Aabhutanam: to attain; Tha Deva Dhyanam: That God to be meditated;Chetana Cha: Consciously; Sva:One'; Rupanu Rupath: Form ( or ability); Thath Anyam:Anything else; Anardham: Fruitless; Chetas: Conscious; Prananthum: Salute (to); Pura: Before; Urvey: Of great; Mithuna: (another name) Goddess; Sheshatha: Reminder; Siddhi:attainable; Ramesham: Vishnu Summary Shree (Lakshmi) has that special trait, that which will allow you to attain Vishnu. Hence people should meditate on the Goddess as per their ability. Trying to pursue anything else is not worth attaining. Thence once Lakshmi is attained, Vishnu is automatically reachable and us immortals might become His residual.
2. సంసార తైర్థిక ఫలానుభవాద్విమోక్తు మామోక్ష సర్వవిధ కామ్య ఫలాని లబ్దుం । లక్ష్యాః శరణ్య మనపాయ ముపాయభూతం తస్మాచ్ర్ఛియః పదయుగం శరణం ప్రపద్యే ॥ 2 सम्सार तैर्दिक फलानुभवाद्विमोक्तु मामोक्श सर्वविद काम्य फलानिलब्धुम् । लक्श्म्याः शरण्यमनपाय मुपायभूतम् तस्मात् श्रियः पदयुगं शरणम् प्रपद्ये ॥ Key words Samsara: World(material); Aardhika: Wealth; Phala:Fruit; Anubhavath: experience; Vimokthu; to be devoid; Moksha:moksha; Sarva Vidha: All means; Kamya: desire; Labdhum: Get( recieve); Lakshmyaha Sharanya: refuge of Lakshmi; Anapaya: Eternal(freedom from misery); Upaya:Plan; Bhootham: Exists; Thasmath Shriyaha: Hence Shriya(Lakshmi); Pada-yugam; pair of feet; Sharanam: Refuge(seek); Prapadye: I pray Summary To get rid of the material possessions in this world, to be devoid of fruits attained by wealth, seeking the refuge of Lakshmi, without obstacles is a plan that exists. Hence, I pray to the feet of Lakshmi.
3 యస్యాః శ్రావయితృత్వ దివ్య మహిమా పూర్ణప్రభావోల్బణా త్వేష్ట త్వేన హి శేష భూత వితతే ర్నిత్యం జగచ్ఛేషిణః । స్వీయ స్వోచిత కర్మసు ప్రబలతో నీరిఙ్ఖణ ప్రోన్నతిః తాం వన్దే శరణత్వతోఽన వరతం లక్ష్మీం శరణ్యత్వతేః ॥ 3 यस्याः श्रावय्ऽत्रुत्व दिव्य महिमा पूर्णप्रभावोल्बण त्वेष्ठ त्वेन हि शेष भूत विततेर्नित्यम् जगच्छेषिणः स्वीय स्वोचित कर्मसु प्रबलतो नीरिङ्खण प्रोन्नतिः ताम् वन्दे शरणत्वतोऽन वरत्वम् लक्श्मीम् शरण्यत्वतेः Key Words Yasyaha:of whom; Shravyatha:listened to; tatva:truth(meaning); Divya Mahima:divine magic; Poorna Prabha:complete glory; Ulbana:exceptional( manifests);Tva Ishtataha: Of her liking; Shesha: remaining; sesa bhuta;in all remaining elements; Vitata:very(any, broad); Nityam: Daily; JagathShesh: Vishnu; Sveeya: Belonging to; Sva: Of self; Uchitha: Self; Karma Su: Good karma;Prabalatha:Strong(dominant); Rinkhana (Slowly moving);Unnati:Uplift;Tham:they; Vandhey:Salute; Sharana:Refugee;varatam:preferable; Lakshmim:Lakshmi’s; Sharanya: Seeking refuge Summary Out of Her own accord, everyday, in full glory, the divine magic of this world about us remnants, is being told to Vishnu. One's own good Karma progresses slowly. To her, this refugee, seeks refuge.
4 స్వం చేతనైః శ్రావయితుం చ దాతుం తేషా మభీష్టాని ఫలాని ముక్తిం । యచ్ర్ఛీ విశిష్టత్వ మలఙ్ఘనీయం విష్ణోః శ్రియం తాం సముపాశ్రయేఽహం ॥ स्वं चेतनैः श्रावय्ऽतुंऽच दातुं तेषाऽमभीष्टानि फलानिमुक्तिं यच्च्री विशिष्टत्व मलङ्घनीयम् विष्णोः श्रियम् तां समुपाश्रयेऽहं ॥ Key Words sva:of self; chetana:consciousness; shravayatum: listen; dhatum: to give; thesham: their; Abhishtani:wishes; falani:fruits; Mukthim: free; yat:that; Shree:Lakshmi; Vishistatva: speciality;alaGhana: insurmountable; Vishnoha: of Vishnu; shriyam: to Shree (lakshmi); samupashraye: resorting(leaning to); Summary
5 జన్తూనాం సముపార్జితైశ్చ నృజనైః సాంసారికీయావ్యథాః భోక్తౄణాం చ తథాప్యధః పతన దుర్భాగ్యోన్ముఖానాం తురం । హ్యుద్ధర్తుం భవతి క్షమం పురుష కారైశం హియస్యాః శ్రియః తాం షాడ్గుణ్యమయీం పయోబ్ధితనయాం లోకేశ్వరీ మాశ్రయే ॥ 5 जन्तुनां समुपार्जितैश्च न्रजनैः सांसारिकीयाव्यधाः भोक्त्रूणां च तथाप्यधः पतन दुर्भाग्योन्मुखानां । ह्युद्दर्तुम् भवति क्षमम् पुरुष कारैषं हियस्याः श्रियः ताम् षाड्गूण्यमईं पयोब्दितनयां लोकेश्वरीमाश्रये ॥ Key Words Samuparjita = stored up, Prepared; Bhoktru=Sufferer,Bearer; Aapydha=met with; Unmukha=leaning to; tura=hasten, rushed to; uddhartha=redeem; purusha kara=human effort; hiya = (word used for negation) without; Asyaha Shriyah=That lakshmi;paya=milk; abdhi=sea; tanaya=female offspring; Summary Living beings and humans, acquired and burdened with worldly pains, sufferers who then are met with degrading luck and rushed towards it (ill-fortune), such folks can be redeemed by Lakshmi who has all the attributes. That Lakshmi, with shadguna qualities, daughter of sea of milk ( lakshmi was born during churning of sea), leader of the world, I seek shelter.
6 శ్రియం యస్యా విష్ణు ర్భుజగపతి సేసేశ తార్క్ష్యాదికాయే పరేమ్నిస్ఫూర్జన్మణి గణ లసన్మణ్డపే సేవితేఽపి । స్థితేఽర్యమ్ణాద్య మాద్య ఖిల విధ సర్వావతారేషుసక్తే పృధగ్యంతు ప్రాదుర్న సిసహిషతే తాం ప్రపద్యే క్రియేం హం ॥ 6 श्रियं यस्या विष्णु र्भुजगपति सेसेश तार्क्ष्यादिकाये परेम्निस्फूर्जन्मणि गण लसन्मण्डपे सेवितेऽपि । स्थितेऽर्यम्णाद्य माद्य खिल विध सर्वावतारेषुसक्ते प्रुधग्यन्तु प्रादूर्न सिसहिषते तां प्रपद्ये क्रियें हं ॥ Key Words సేశ = refers to Adisheshu; తార్క్ష్య = Garuda, ఆదికాయ = some God?; lasa=shining; Mandapey=In the mandapa; Aryamu Anyada = Sun God ( or one of the Aditya's) and others; khila=reminder piece;vida=formed; Pradus=appear; sahishathey=endurer (feminine gender);
7 లక్ష్మీ విశిష్ట వశతో యదవాప యస్యాః ప్రాప్తో హరిః సకల కారణభూత తాంచ । సర్వేశ్వరత్వ మఖిలాధిక రక్షకత్వం తాం త్వాం శ్రియం సకరుణాం సముపాశ్రయామి ॥ 7 लक्श्मी विशिष्ट वशतो यदवाप यस्याः प्राप्तो हरिः सकल कारणभूत तां च । सर्वेश्वरत्व मखिलादिक रक्शकत्वं तां त्वां श्रियं सकरुणां समुपाश्रयामि ॥ Key Words విశిష్ట = special ( different from ordinary humans);avapa=acquire; వశతో యదవాప యస్యాః = that he has acquired with Lakshmi's accompaniement; ప్రాప్తో హరిః = Hari to be attained;సకల =all;కారణభూత=source;సర్వేశ్వరత్వ=allmightyness; akhila=entire(universe);rakshaka=protection;thvam=you ( pronoun referring to him); tha thvam=to her; సకరుణాం = with kindness; ఉపాశ్రయామి = take shelter;
8 విష్ణో రసపాయినీ ముర హరస్యాభావ భావానుగా సా షాడ్గు ణ్యమయీ సదైక విభవా వాత్సల్యభావవ్రతా । శ్రీ లక్ష్మీ జగతః ప్రసూరసపగా శక్తి త్రయోజ్ఞృమ్భితా లోకత్రాణ గుణమ్బుధిర్ది శతు మే రాయం యథా పుష్కలం ॥ 8 विष्णो रसपाय् नि मुर हारस्याभाव भावानुगा सा षाड्गुण्यमई सदैक विभवा वात्सल्य भावव्रता । श्री लक्श्मी जगतः प्रसूरसपगा शक्ति त्रयोज्ञृम्भिता लोकत्राण गुणम्बु दिर्दिशतु मे रायं यथा पुष्कलं ॥ Key Words Mura-hara=one who defeated the Mura Demon; Abhava-Bhava=Non-Existence and Existence; Sa ShadGuna Mayi=The one (female) with Six Great attributes; Vibhava =looking prosperous; Vaatsalya Bhavavratha=Looking out with affection; Jagata Prasootha = Creator of the world; TrayognyaAmbitha = Spread out with three forces; Loka-Thrana = Protection of the world; Udhirdhishatu=towards progress/protection; May=my/to me; Rayam = wealth; yada=when/whenever; Pushkalam=abundant;
9 శేషి స్వరూప వరివాచిని చాత్యగారే హ్యర్థాత్తు శేషిణ ఉపాశ్రయణీయవిష్ణోః । సర్వాధి కత్వ వినిరూపక భూతలక్ష్మీ వైశిష్ట్య ముజ్జనయితాం శ్రియమాశ్రయామి ॥ 9 शेषि स्वरूप वरिवाचिनि चात्यगारे ह्यार्धात्तु शेषिण उपाश्रयणीयविष्णोः । सर्वादिकत्व विनिरूपक भूतलक्श्मी वैशिष्ट्य मुज्जनइतां श्रियमाश्रयामि ॥ Key Words Mura-hara=one who defeated the Mura Demon; Abhava-Bhava=Non-Existence and Existence; Sa ShadGuna Mayi=The one (female) with Six Great attributes; Vibhava =looking prosperous; Vaatsalya Bhavavratha=Looking out with affection; Jagata Prasootha = Creator of the world; TrayognyaAmbitha = Spread out with three forces; Loka-Thrana = Protection of the world; Udhirdhishatu=towards progress/protection; May=my/to me; Rayam = wealth; yada=when/whenever; Pushkalam=abundant;
10 సారూప్య ముపేద్భిః - సూరిభి రనిశం నిషేవ్యతే సత్రా । హరిణాఽఽధి శేషతల్పే - స్థిత్వా యా తాం శ్రియం వన్దేఽహం ॥ 10 सारूप्य मुपेद्भिः - सुरभि रनिशं निषेव्यते सत्रा । हरिणाऽऽदि शेष तल्पे - स्तित्वा या तां श्रियं वन्देऽहं ॥ Key Words Saarupyam= in suitable form ; Upedhbhi=thriving(her); Surabhi=Nice smelling(pleasant); Anisham=Constantly; Nishevyate=to be honored; Satra=together/always; Harinatha Shesha Thalpey= One who occupies rest half of Hari’s space; Stitva=situated; Ya tham=to whom (female); Shriyam vandeham= to Shriya, I salute.

#BlackLivesMatter

Land of the free, home of the Brave

Or so, I was told

This Nation had, plenty a Slave

On the next block, they was Sold.

Chasing green, working in the corporate world

Ain’t seen no Black Man, Young or Old.

Living in Northern suburbs, a swanky home and a good school

Faraway from a bus or train for no Black fool.

Long ago, MLK proclaimed “I had a dream”

Buried under prejudice and ream.

Every day, is shot, a George Floyd and a Trevor Martin

No known vaccine, for America’s Original Sin.

Immigrant and Naturalised, Am no son of this Soil

But Alas, Amongst the Natural ones, some are born Soiled.

Every other street and square is named Lee.

Oh Say! Can’t you see?

Summer in DC

Twas early march, blooming buds and a beautiful spring

New goals, new promises and hopes of an upswing

Driving in my car into a new city,

was packed my rucksack and some anxiety

From the highway roads into the inner reticulation

A maze of thoughts and a little apprehension.

The more I seem to aim

The more it stays the same.

Cherry blossoms and the local farmer markets

And at museums, concerts and all the art places

Warmth of new friends and smiling faces

Welcoming a beautiful  summer.

A Beautiful Morning

A Beautiful Morning (2016)

Six oras top of the hour,chimes the clock
The sun gods and his chariots dawn on a cruise
Another day, and life, snuck on me, I balk
The mystic rays are goading me out of my snooze

On my foot the shoe reads Brooks,  I tie my lace
for a long jog, with some poise some grace
Rise up! No more procrastination I vow
for some sweet sweat on my brow.

One foot out the door, I go west.
I seek pride with every stride and give my best.
Sailing forward, whatever may come.
while my head-phones hum "Tava Suprabhatam".

Also, here is a little bit of context to explain a few things. First even though, the poem talks about me waking up in the morning and going for a jog at another level it talks about life in general. For eg: Just like Nike and Reebok, I mention my brand of running shoes as Brooks, Brooks also means calling, beckoning or enduring. The phrase tying ones laces can also mean picking up after a fall and pretending everything is alright.  In the first line, while Hindus believe the Sun god travels on a chariot the Egyptians believe He travels in a boat, hence the use of the word Cruise in tandem with chariots. The phrase "Go West", need not need any explanation.