The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
Row, row, row the boat
Gently down the stream,
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily,
Life is but a dream……….
Gently down the stream,
Merrily, Merrily, Merrily,
Life is but a dream……….
Samhith with our boatman Raju
We spent 10 days in Varanasi, and not a day passed without us taking a boat ride. My husband Shankar made friends with a young boatman named Raju, not yet out of his teens, and we found him waiting for us, ready to take us to the other bank for a bath, or a long, leisurely boat ride down the river. It was he who took us for a tour along all the Ghats, a trip to the Ramnagar Palace, and also to the temples via the Ghats. It was a wonderful experience, one I shall never forget. Read the full post...
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