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...
Remembering our trip to Mysore in May, and trying to catch up with writing about it, I came across this photo I had clicked of one of the crocodiles. Both, Samhith and I agreed that this shouldn't have to go with the many, many photos in the zoo post coming up, but deserves a post to itself. Do you agree?
The eye does look suitably intimidating, doesn't it? Especially with all those teeth!
The eye does look suitably intimidating, doesn't it? Especially with all those teeth!
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