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...
What a week it has been!! I was just recuperating from a bout of the flu, and looking forward to catching up with all my writing, and all that I had missed.... The festival season was just about to begin, and I was looking forward to writing about all the festivals we will be celebrating this month..... And then, while I was busy preparing for the most elaborate celebration of the month, my left hand middle finger suddenly showed a slight swelling. Assuming it to be nothing important, I went on with the work, and managed to perform the Varalakshmi puja without too many problems. But by Friday night, the swelling was too big and painful to ignore, and a visit to the doc told me that the finger was infected, and filled with pus! So, here I am, today, with the finger bandaged, and managing to type with one hand after a long time.... Obviously I cant write much, so I shall just leave you with photos of Varalakshmi puja at home.... Incidentally, this is the first time I performed the puj...