Little Angel

That afternoon when little Anna gave a primrose, Ravi was happy to receive it. It could bring you good luck, her sister Clara smiled as she handed it to Ravi, in her tiny steps. Ravi was a neighborhood volunteer in their weekly meetings at Homeowner's Association.

Ravi thanked as he was getting late, smiled and said, I am in need of lot of luck, and hurried to the airport.

Fortunately, for Ravi and passengers, it was a danger that was averted, although no one knew. There were some forces working towards causing chaos, in different places at different times, it would appear like someone walking past a person throwing away their luggage on their eagerness to catch flight or someone playing their podcasts too loud etc.

However, Ravi was unaware of any of these. He was enjoying his journey until London.

At London, Heathrow, airport was busy as ever.

Ravi got down, and was going towards connecting airline terminal.

The flight was waiting for the fellow passengers from different cities or countries so they can be transferred back to the Motherland safely.

Just then it was time to leave. Ravi was walking hurriedly and was getting

To catch his connecting flight.

“Ravi!” someone called, sounding very familiar.

It was the neighborhood friend from Hyderabad, from JNTU, they grew up with.

“Shankar! What a surprise!” exclaimed Ravi.

“Yea, if you say so!” laughed Shankar.

“I am coming from Chicago.” He was also with his wife and kids following him a few feet ahead, as he was also bringing the baggage that he needed to add from the carry-on baggage for all three of them plus himself.

“We are catching the connection flight to Bombay, er… Mumbai,” he said.

“I like it that you are travelling with your entire family, Shankar!”

Ravi himself is still a bachelor, but his fiancée is also going with him to meet his family.

However, as Ravi and Shankar were chatting and walking along their connecting flight, suddenly they heard a chaotic noise and people running around helter-skelter.

“Whatever happened?” asked Ravi.

He saw that there were a group of people who were pushed away by some vague person with some kind of weapon in his hand and was threatening them if his demands are not met, holding a little kid’s head.

Without waiting a moment, Ravi, to rescue his friend’s son, gave one blow in the neck of the guy, being rowdyish..

One Karate chop, from the black belt holder, was enough to bring silence, with the sudden turn of events. Airport Officer James, was right there putting handcuffs to the mischief monger and thanked Ravi. Something that could have been dangerous, returned to balance, thanks to the innocent little girl who blessed with a primrose! They needed it, indeed. In Ravi's thoughts, Anna was smiling, dainty as a Daisy, as he just remembered her wishes, that morning.

Swamy The Sonahar

Swamy once a very young boy, learning his craft from his grand father, was fixing the rare jewelry his grand father made for a rich family, Irony is that he is asking his grandson to watch him now.

Back then, women would be more social than what they are today, with stunning jewelry and shining silk robes. As and how the country is rolling into twenty first century, all the crafts of erstwhile Raj stand obsolete or neglected and it is not everyday one looks for such jewelry.  

Prashanti didn’t know what to do with her highly valuable jewelry, she inherited from her great grandmother. 

Fortunately they are not pure gold, but alloy. In those days the jewelry made from some cities in Maharashtra unlike Rajasthan, were accessible to not so rich people, so every father can see his daughter off in expensive and valuable jewelry. 

The value was more of the gem setting and workmanship, rather than the weight of gold. 

Swamy held the old Kolhapuri necklace up to the light, turning it slowly between his fingers. The stones still caught the sun in a soft, sparkling shimmer, though the metal had not really lost its original lustre. Time had not destroyed it- only mellowed it.

“These are not meant to be worn every day,” he said softly with a sigh, almost to himself. “They were meant to be remembered.”

Prashanti watching uneasily, the way the jewelry was assessed felt it heavier than its actual weight. It was not just metal and stones—it carried stories she had never been told fully, stories of women whose names were fading from family memory.

Her great-grandmother had lived in a different world. Jewelry then was not merely ornamentation but identity, social language, and security all at once. In certain regions of Maharashtra, unlike the heavily gold-dependent traditions of Rajasthan, artisans had developed intricate alloy-based designs that were more accessible to families who were wealthy in dignity but modest in coin. The beauty lay less in pure gold weight and more in craftsmanship—stone setting, filigree patterns, and what elders called “chekanam”, a refined form of hand detailing that made each piece unmistakenly alive.

Prashanti nodded, though her thoughts were unpresent. “So what do I do with it now? It feels wrong to lock it away, but it also feels… out of place.”

Swamy placed the necklace back into the velvet box. “That is the question every inherited object asks its next owner.”

For a moment, neither spoke. Outside, modern life indeed moved quickly—chaos and noise, taking away the humming, and rhythm of a century that no longer exists, transforms culture, as if they were remnants of museum exhibits. Yet inside the quiet room, the past still persists.

Swamy said finally, though his tone did not encourage it. “if you sell it, you will be only trading mounted metal and stones. What you truly have is design heritage. That cannot be replaced.”

“What do you advise, kaka?” Prashanti was asking with hesitant tone. 

Swamy smiled faintly. “It is not who gets to buy, for what price; these brilliant stones are an artisan’s fine example of craftwork, teams toiling through red hot fire in sultry workshop, in the hottest weather, reflecting in the sheen, we will preserve for future generation, changing it’s mode”

Prashanti said, very pleasantly, ” much obliged kaka, we will work on this together, creating and transforming , preserving and practicing, not just preaching. “

Prashanti knew, what assignment she was going to give her Sociology and arts students, in the next hour.

Govind Gopala

Govind, where are you? Mom Yashoda was looking for Govind, but he was nowhere close by.

The eastern winds were growing strong, with clouds as dark as the Vindhya mountains. The cowherds returned the cattle early, so they could have a play date with the young gopi girls, assisting their elders in the kitchen.

“Guys, have you seen Kandha..?” Yashoda mom was asking with a doubt in her voice.

“No ma’am, not since evening.”

Yashoda was concerned, but it was still not too dark outside. Govind may have gone out with  friends, for a swim in the river Yamuna, mom was contemplating.

“Mother Yashoda,” one gopi came, “your Govind is stealing butter,” she complained. She came with whole team of gopi mothers supporting her.

“You know, the other day I was sleeping near the verandah, waiting to catch Govind in action. God knows where he and the friends crept in from—all the butter on the hanging shelves in the foyer was gone, the pots destroyed, and on his way back, he even applied the butter to my face and that of my daughter-in-law.”

“Not just that, Yashoda Maiyya, he untied the calves and left the doors ajar. The cows had a field day feeding their calves, and there was abundant hay and water too.”

“No, my Kanha is too young. Where is he?”

Govind was still not found anywhere.

“Alright, Gopi ladies,” said Yashoda, “we have enough dairy to last a lifetime for entire Brindavan. Let me get you your containers.”

 Govind was seen playing his melodious Vamsi, as Yashoda opened the pantry doors, all flying grazing, leaping singing friends of all kinds, from forest were enjoying their meals.

“Oh Kandha!” Yashoda Maiyya was too happy to have found him, Kandha was in the walk-in pantry, sitting near the large window with all his forest mates.

Minute Loyalties

The dark night outside the window is no indication of the brightness of mercury and neon lights shining across the corridor into the palaces where Lalitha Devi is being decorated and Her graciousness is being celebrated. The Goddess Lalitha Devi presides over the temple of King Aditya Krishna Vamshikar. Queen Rukmini Devi and Aditya Krishna are just been blessed with a beautiful baby boy.

There were dances, musical performances and dinners for the entire community to enjoy. It was after a decade of waiting for an offspring did Rani Rukmini Devi gave birth to their very first boy. All the relatives and friends were joyous to welcome the little lad.

Not totally untrue was the presence of some minds with conspiracies, to pull their prominence down. Aditya Krishna married Rukmini Devi Nayanakar while they were in The Bronx . They were both visiting their relatives for a friend’s wedding and were site seeing the Bronx zoo. Later they saw each other in the Yankees stadium concession centers. A look into the eyes lead to their hearts and both were too happy to be building a loving relationship. After a year of pursuing their fine art diplomas, they solidified their love in the holy matrimony in presence of their elders and other adults. The Maharani of Gualliore was disappointed in their marriage since their grown-up daughter, Swetambari could not find a dream come true life partner. Her brother, Pranavsen had all his hope on building a relationship within the families with future possible matrimonial, where his goal was to have his daughter to be married in future into the Vamshikar family.

What man desires, might not happen, as they say, man proposes, God disposes. Pranav told his sister that, he would definitely take good care of their prestige issue. What he thought was, of a ploy to destroy the marriage. The dark clouds gathering outside were like a huge storm coming up soon, with thunderstorms and tunnel clouds was possible tortornados. His misplaced loyalties were too much of an error brewing within the palace, creating possible chaos in the family, and their inheritance and riches. Maharani’s direction was to penetrate into the married life of the King and queen and replace her with her daughter taking the place of the other person.

Somewhere in the remote corners of their town foxes were howling. There were sounds of wild birds being chased and the vultures were staring and eagles howling over the open yard, so they can catch some food as they leave it. Prabav Sen’s first wife, Raseshwari Radhani Bhama who died after having a baby girl, because of complications of her pregnancies, seemed to have been visiting in a bright spiritual form as she was a daughter of Vamshikar family. Thousands of years before, the lady's maternal great grandfather was a relative of Chandrabhanu, brother of Vrishabhanu and son of Suryabhanu Thakur.

They say a human spirit never dies. They all live in golok, after the passing phase of life after life of living in human form and succeeding In finding wisdom and meaning of life and eternity. When someone in need thinks of her, her guardian angel, Radha Rani tells her to provide care, nutrition and nurturing in invoking the earth’s angels to help the needy person who believes her. Earth’s angels are the tiny tiny angels that go to and fro as if in molecular form. In Sanskrit they are known as Volakilyas. They generate energy to convert elements into food using bio-chemical and solar energy.  Lakes are generated and trees are producing fruit due to this nature. A truly loving heart when is saddened breaks the heart of mother earth and rivers gush out to this pressure they are going through and cities and villages, mountains and bridges get washed out. Earth is truly connected to each and every individual and to their heart’s vibrations. In essence each body is like a powerhouse, generating and utilizing energy and why will it not be connected, wherever one is, for the sheer reason of being present as individuals and humans who care and abide by rules. Sometimes, humans try to manifest their presence by being arrogant, selfish or inconsiderate. However they will, as mother earth believes and gives umpteen chances, to improve, they become more ingrained with the human essences of sympathy, generosity, empathy, love, determination and devotion.

Radha ben was standing in front of the rising Sun., shining in her grandoire with tilaka on her forehead, reflecting in the water in saffron color of shining Sun’s rays carrying fresh batch of Volakilyas, who have assignment of a bright day to care and nurture and show path to the seekers.

The Story of Water

This story began with a material, that was colorless, tasteless and life giving, was derived from a few lonely random substances which had energy and nothing else. It was an ion, that was a lonesome electron or a positively charged hydroxide particle, looking for one electronic ion since it was not possible to exist all alone, sought a Hydrogen ion, actively looking for a mate and the single electron irresistibly bonded with an agitated postive particle seeking an electron, finally found a home in its orbit… millions of years ago.”

Sara stopped telling the story to grandma. ‘Listening’, said grandma. Long story short, this water you are using to create rotis, is not formed now.. it is older than matter!

Team Work

Sara was busy creating a surprise for Chanda for her wedding. It is a surprise Sara said

Oh ok. Is that what you are offering her? Asked Sumitra.

‘No Aunt Polly, it is so not.

Raja wanted to surprise her with all the pictures as a collage. I am helping out.’

‘Sara! Is it ok to let Raja sleep away while you are working it all by yourself?’

‘I don’t see anything wrong. He takes forever,’ said Sara.

‘Would you rather want Raja to create it or you compile it with your ideas?’

‘Raja's.’

‘Sara, how could he do it? you are doing his work. Would that do any help in bringing out the best of his friendship?’

‘Aunt Polly, I did not see it coming. I was only helping.’

‘Now you do! I am not saying you cannot help, but it should be a team effort! Right?’ said Sumitra.

Deadly Aunt 'Polly' From Mahajanapath

‘Memorized the poem 3 today?’ Aunt Sumitra asked

Raja read the poem aloud. 

He tore up the next poem to avoid reciting.

Is that why your Aunt'Polly’ asked you to paint the fence? Sara asked

Rain Rain Go Away

Once upon a time, long ago, in a faraway fictitious land, in a village called Mahajanapath, there lived a young boy with his grandmother. She was a kind-hearted woman who cared for everyone in her village, offering advice on raising crops, cattle, chickens, and children. All the children affectionately called her "Ajji," meaning grandma.

The little boy grew into a handsome young man. He was called ‘Raja’ for his noble thoughts, generous nature, and willingness to help others, especially those in need of protection from exploitation.

Sara, from a neighboring village, was preparing to move to the city where her friends were studying while residing in a hostel. On her journey to Mahanagar city, Sara stayed with Grandma along with other students, as they had been good friends before moving into Grandma’s homeschooling.

Many years passed, and Grandma was nearing retirement. Other grandma homes were opening up, but typically, a grandma home only ran for two months at a time for each resident. Visitors stayed anywhere from a weekend to three weekends, and at most, up to 12 weekends. They had to return after four or five months at the earliest. If they were facing exams or assignment deadlines and their mothers were unavailable, they could extend their stay by two more months, but no longer.

Most of the time, Grandma was healthy, but occasionally, she fell unwell. During those times, other grandmas stepped in to help. Just as the children spent time at different grandma homes, grandmas also took on roles for short- or long-term stays depending on their interest. There were entire blocks of grandma quarters, each home blessed with a resident grandma.

Children who had passed through different grandma homes at various times would, by chance, meet others who had also stayed there. Some even found friendships that eventually helped them find their soulmates. Raja, in particular, was a permanent resident of the grandma homes since no one knew when his parents would return. They had gone on an assignment with the Maharaja to advise on projects related to welfare, research, and development.

Fortunately, while Raja was primarily cared for by his own grandmother, he had the opportunity to attend classes from different grandmas, learning about ethics, aesthetics, science, art, and even cryptocurrency. He reconnected with old friends and made new ones during these times, but he knew he would soon have to return to Maharaja’s staff quarters as an employee.

One day, while horseback riding, he suddenly heard the terrified screams of a young girl. To his shock, he saw Sara riding a wild, untamed horse from the stables. The horse was behaving erratically, clearly disturbed by something. Raja called out, “Attaboy!” in an attempt to calm it. Slowly, the horse began to relax, stopping as Raja helped Sara climb onto his own horse instead.

Their eyes met, and for a moment, they felt a deep connection. Just then, the horse jerked again—or so Raja thought.

Sprinkles of raindrops touched his face. He opened his eyes.

Grandma stood before him, smiling. "Today, you need to pick up Sara from the train station. Have you forgotten?" she reminded him.

Looking around, Raja saw that the house was decorated. Wedding decorators from Chennai were working in front of the home.

"Sara is arriving to attend her friend’s wedding. Go and pick her up," Grandma said again.

Raja smiled. ‘Oh my, problems are nothing more than bubbles—now you see them, now you don't! Thank God Sara is safe and far away from trouble!’  Good God grandma stop pouring water over me! Cried Raja as the dream bubble is popped away!

Pranksters-Spanksters

The Maruthi theater group was buzzing with enthusiasm that evening, especially with their focus on the Ramayan. A particular highlight was the scene where Hanuman crosses the ocean in a single leap to find where Seetha was hidden by Ravana. With the summer holidays approaching, the troupe was busy preparing for the sequence where Hanuman destroys Ashokvan, the garden where Seetha was held captive by Ravana.

The young actress portraying Seetha performed admirably. In one key moment, she held a grass blade between herself and Ravana, symbolizing how the mighty ten-headed demon was no more significant than a blade of grass in her eyes. This subtle gesture, full of symbolic power, was meant to humble Ravana’s ego.

The director, concerned with the next few scenes involving the burning of Lanka, reminded the cast, “Lighting the Lanka buildings is only digital. We won’t show real fire—just make sure the curtain waves with the fan and project the image of fire on the buildings.”

After a scene with Ravana shouting and giving ultimatum to Seetha, who was desperately calling for Ram’s rescue, the actor playing Anjaneya, Ashok, reentered after a tea break. The director caught him loitering outside the studio and questioned, “Ashok, why are you here? Shouldn’t you be talking to Seetha, telling her you are capable of rescuing her?” Ashok responded, “Actually, Shamshad bhai, I’m on break because the baby Hanuman will be chanting Ram’s name, and when Seetha asks, I’ll be ready to go.” The director, irritated, complained to the writer, “Joseph! Look at this one’s cheek! He’s designing the scenes by himself.”

Joseph, who was referred to as Johnny, defended Ashok, saying, “Leave him alone, we had agreed to give some liberty with the dialogue delivery, considering the accent differences between southern and northern speakers.” Johnny said., “jaanee,” also meaning “dear one” in Hindustani, reflected their shared spirit in the play.

The call for the scene change was texted, accompanied by the sound of drums signaling the shift. Ashok soon returned to the stage as Hanuman. He reassured Seetha, telling her that he was the mighty monkey warrior Hanuman and that Ram would soon rescue her. To prove his words, Hanuman gave her a ring from Ram, saying, “O mother Seetha, here is the ring Ram gave, to show that He will rescue you soon. In fact, I could carry you on my shoulders right at this moment.”

Seetha, with a tone of concern, replied, “O mighty Hanuman, I understand you meant to give me hope, but I cannot be rescued without Ravana knowing. Tell Ram that if He cannot rescue me within two months, Ravana will kill me and feed me to the demonesses guarding me.” Hanuman took permission from Seetha as she gave him her chudaamani, a jewelry piece like a barrette, and returned to Ram with this message, urging him to act quickly.

During the Ashokvan scene, where Hanuman destroys the beautiful fruit-bearing trees followed by the burning of Lanka, the visuals were preserved with no damage due to the use of photo effects. However, the plot to ignite the curtain by some pranksters was foiled before it could be executed, rendering their attempt to create menace and chaos futile.

Confidence Can Bring Miracles

“Kannan da, my villagers think I cannot achieve what I started. I feel terrible” said Priyank.

Kannan da stopped writing for a minute and asked, “Oh. What would you think?”

“I think it is not right and I can prove that I am capable of being a winner. “ said Priyank who was hardly eighteen.

“Well, there you go!” smiled Kannan da and looked apprehensively. Kannan da is a mentor for young and old by giving pointers subtly through his writings and directions.

Priyank was for some reason not happy with people around him and went to his grandmother's town for a change in scenario. She was well known chef among her circles, having demand for their pickles, spices and snacks.

That summer she called some helpers and prepared pickles with selected green mangoes. Mangoes need to be green and hard and not sweet or soft for the south Indian or Telugu style pickles the region is so popular, grandma would say.

He enjoyed the freshly made rice with the new pickles and had sweet mangoes to go with it. Grandma would prepare yogurt at home with buffalo’s milk and make thick Lassi with it so he can enjoy his meals.

Returning from the town, Priyank bought some green mangoes of good variety and also bought spices. He started preparing the pickles and posted in YouTube with stories he heard from grandma as he was packing them.

He enjoyed watching other’s shows too. Among those, very influential were from Pasha bhayya’s, an expert teacher in training and teaching tailoring. What impressed him most was the ease with which Pasha brother would address the problems one would face in starting sewing and tailoring business. He would even encourage people not use a measuring tape to draw a pattern, by just using a model saree blouse or waist size.

Meanwhile, despite what villagers would say, Priyank would picturize his shows outdoors, during early hours and also insert the beauty of village life as he would wish the several onlookers a happy day .

Some would even participate in tasting after the end of the cooking shows. That was getting so popular that people from different places would arrive early morning and not only watch him run his show, but buy tickets to be in line to taste the items prepared. Added attraction was when Priyank would come and ask them how it tasted or if his cooking reminded of any regional cooking.

Priyank introduced different items from different places including the regional recipes, stories of folklore and even sometimes showcase the dressing style people would practice, including any writers or artists of that region too.

Priyank’s show was becoming a positive influence on entrepreneurs and artists alike as well as fashionistas. The same villagers that criticized Priyank found him motivating.

Showcasing regional cuisine and introducing about local artists of Hyderabad and near by places, he enjoyed showing artwork of others that has ignited his showmanship to a higher level, proving villager’s discouragement a futile effort. “It is self confidence. Self reliance and blessings from his loving grandma!” said Priyank accepting the recognition for YouTube’s popular entrepreneurs award and was thrilled with excitement! Kannan da could not hold his happiness!

Grandma is In Charge

 Grandma Roshni was very kind and raised some birds and animals. One day it was raining heavily and grandma was feeling very cold and feverish. She took some Tylenol and had warm coco milk and was resting on her couch watching the cartoons and other shows. Grandma's favorite was either roadshow or Sesame Street.

She liked the big bird most of all.

On that Friday morning Grandma was feeling rather tired and was taking an afternoon nap. The neighbors were moving that day and they had some cats. One of them was peach colored and the other was a dark brown one. Both were adorable. Every time grandma would sit in the backyard, Peach would come purring to feel her human touch.

On moving day the family left early. Grandma was reading a book, and she did not notice how much time she spent in reading the book. Suddenly from some where she heard a sound. A very feeble sound.

She heard that sound again. She called her neighbors but they already moved. Peach was calling out from the empty home.

Grandma Roshni kept water and some cookies outside, just in case peach may want to come in.

Grandma remembered the story of a young boy who later became a saint after watching something about a neighbor’s cat. Once there was this young boy who was youngest among the children in a place near Kanchipuram. At that time he was fondly called as Gini which means a young beautiful  bird. Gini was seven when everyone in the neighbors left to visit some place. There were huge sounds coming out of the empty home all through the dark star-studded night. The sounds were so loud, the entire neighborhood flocked around to see if it was a thief. All kinds of sounds as if their were some metallic round thing was rolling around in the air and flying like a big football. All the time making rumbling noises. The people were thinking it may be an alien flying around in the home, until the neighbors returned. As soon as they opened the door, they went in and saw what caused the noise. It was a cat, that stuck it’s head in a container with small opening. Looked like the neighbors prepared some sweet rice product and left in a rush without cleaning the utensils. The cat liked the taste of the food and got into so much deep that it just could not pull itself out of the small opening at all.

This incident had so much impact on Gini that in his 90th year or so, when he told this for the first time,  he had to stop and stare constantly into space before speaking further. He felt that, a man with his desire to excel and conquer everything gets deeper into the web of cycle of life and death, and can never come out of it or perform or seek anything that is parabrahma. This incident finds itself as the reason, why a less than 13 year old turned into Kanchi Paramacharya, who is also called as Periyava. It became popular after the grains  got harvested, when people had more reason to celebrate and offered luxurious lifestyles and people were more into buying properties, or accumulating wealth and going away from the natural life that they were once so much into the nature of everything that was provided by nature, now even the sound of crickets they have to hear though electronic devices, and kids do not know how they even look like.

Sudden sound of soft purring brought her back into the reality and picked up Peach. She called the veterinarian and had Peach checked for microchips, Fortunately it had a phone number too. It was not possible to reach them immediately since it was a landlines. Most likely the landlines is not yet connected.

Day 1 after the cat was found : Grandma took Charge

Peach was very shy kitten. It did not venture out into the open or near the swimming pool. It had to stay indoors and a litter box and bowl for food and water needed to be bought. She ordered Friskies from Petco that delivered some cat food.

Peach was a little dehydrated but Grandma’s cookies and water kept it from getting too much starved.  Grandma’s home provided shelter and warmth as well as some nourishment, more so to the soul with Grandma’s soft talk.

Day 2: Grandma still in charge

That morning Grandma got up early, gave some milk and snacks to Peach and Grandma loved to make strawberry shortcakes. That afternoon, neighbors visited one at a time all day long to enquire Grandma if Peach’s family contacted them.

Alice said she could watch her until Grandma was free and she also said that she is missing Vivek, as they were good friends and played digital games regularly. They also played Chess over their computer and each of them want to beat the other. Everybody enjoyed the shortbread cakes as well as grandma’s very own soup with salad from the backyard. Grandma had grown a wide varieties of legumes and green onions and amaranth that her soup smell may have caused one to write the soup song. The flop song.. For the soup boyesss!!! Peach was tired by the end of the day playing with wool and other things and no kitty toys with Grandma.

Day 3: Grandma took Vivek’s number from Alice

The blue curtains in the kitchen area attracted Peach very much. Grandma with her love towards needle work made lovely borders on each side of the double doors curtains. She also attached small bells that only sounded if someone touched them or brushed past. Peach was excited to play with curtains and make sounds. She also enjoyed pulling the strings off the wool balls waiting to be made into crochet Afghans. Through the windows Peach was looking at the birds outside for sometime. Grandma Roshni wanted to let her out but Peach was an indoors cat. Indoors cats usually small kitten, hesitate to play alone oin the backyard.

Little later in the afternoon Vivek called back. That morning Vivek went to High School and was not available. Lilly, Alice’s sister picked up the phone. Alice texted Vivek, and told that their cat is now at Grandma’s home and in three days time it had to be shipped or will have to go to a shelter.

Day 4: Vivek’s mom gave Grandma their new landline number

Grandma was only getting to thank Lord more and more since she got not only the phone number from Vivek’s mom but also their home address and other contacts.

Grandma called the pet transport people and promptly they sent a car with a driver and caretaker, as well as a new shining crate for the kitty with softly cushioned bed and a rolling ball that sounds and other trinkets and snacks and  drinks as well as a warm cuddly blanket made of rabbit wool. They have volunteers who make packages for transport and every kitty gets their own goody bags. Although no bag is allowed with the passenger.

Finally kitty was sleeping when they took her in an four door sedan.

Day 5 Kitty reached home safe; Vivek mom took charge of Peach again.

After the restful day at their new home Peach’s mom or human called Grandma. She was very grateful that they recovered their precious one in good health.

Peach was all peachy and was in charge of her favorite activities with her favorite toys. Coco was too happy to see her mate. Grandpa Rom could not be more happy to see grandma sit back in her armchair reading Independence a novel by Chitra Divakaruni

*Soup Song link:

https://youtu.be/Cd77LenKLHg?si=f6UrHO2LqQ2DScVx

Some Sunshine

Around the globe there are still people who are living in the 17 th century or may be 25 centuries before the current era started. To them sunshine is very important part of their livelihood. It is nice to know that there are communities which take the heat and light of Sun and start their day. They ought to live the life of a historical human being though... That lived way back in the time continuum.
What do I mean by this?
Communities that get water from the river or from the wells far off from their living quarters.
Communities that do not have sanitation and water supply facilities.
Communities where power supply is far from their reach.
Do such communities exist?
You bet your shirt on your back, they do.
Do they exist in remote villages or in places where human dwelling is impossible?
Well, they may in such remote corners of the world, but they definitely co-exist amid the hustle bustle of the cities, where there are crowds of people living in a somewhat social life, despite the lack of sanitation, water supply, electric supply or any form of development in their living grounds.
Where are they?
Who lives in there?
May be they are the slums that are part of the urban life as much as the activity and modern technology is part of the urban areas.
For those people living in such conditions, it is a thing they have no choice but take it and work hard to change it.
Would they change the infrastructure of such communities?
No.. No no no.. You did not get what I was saying..
I did not mean that they would bring in new facilities in order to bring about that change in their lives. It is they, who move to a different locale, the circumstances would be different.
So, if Fatima Bi or wanted to wash her clothes and dry them in sunshine, she may be able to do so. However, she might have to walk to a river site or area with water abundance, at least at one point of time in the day. In their living grounds, it would not be possible, if she were to wash her clothes she wears or the clothes she uses to keep herself dry in the days when she is menstruating.

A Prayer, In Praise Of Nature, With Gratitude

A Prayer in praise of nature, with gratitude:

Aum May All things Be Prosperous

Aum May All things Be Prosperous

Aum May All things Be Prosperous

(Shami tree:

“Prosopis cineraria, also known as ghaf, is a species of flowering tree in the pea family, Fabaceae. It is native to arid portions of Western Asia and the Indian Subcontinent, including Afghanistan, Bahrain, Iran, India, Oman, Pakistan, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, and Yemen. Its leaves are bipinnate. It can survive extreme drought. It is an established introduced species in parts of Southeast Asia, including Indonesia.[dead link “)*

May this Shami tree erase all bad effects, 

(Shami tree helps in fighting pollution by delivering fresh oxygen, and helps in taking away bad effects due to lack of life supporting Oxygen.)

May the Shami tree protect from enemies

 ( Shami tree can survive in drought and bring the life sap to last thousands of years from several millenia. It may not be the same plant, but they are from one Shami plant, forming multitude of them from thousands of years and help in procreation, protection of it's kind)

On this day with the blessings of nature, Arjuna fought Mahabharath war, victorioususly,  with his great weapon Gandiva, dhanush with bow and arrows, to fight even the greatest of the great warriors, 

Sri Rama was able to receive Seetha, after winning the war with Ravana, and freeing Seetha ji from being kidnapped by Ravana.

Let us remember since how many millenia trees and ecology are protecting us, remembering the heros of the past eras,  who protected nature and pledged to protect them, before taking up any war.

May Shami tree, with the nature keep giving us fresh air and stop pollution.

May that strength help us to conquer our enemies again and again. (Enemies is symbolic, even our inability to fight six senses too and control our urge to yield to those senses.. etc.need be conquered)

Aum, let there be peace, let there be peace, let there be peace.

Happy Vijaya Dasami to all, 

"The year that beautifies everything"

10/24/2023

Inspired By A Ray Of Hope And Spirit

It’s that time 

In your life

You ain’t never 

Gonna matter

To anyone

Anymore

Anytime

It’s that type

Of a life

Where it doesn’t matter 

Where you been

All day long

Nor all night through

You ought to love

Yourself, 

Just as your neighbor

And spend your 

Two cents in

Making life just

A little better

Than what you've

Seen

Where you've been

And make it

A little more loving

For one to dwell

Not the same old same old 

Dump of a day

Every minute matters,

If you take it into account

Of what you give,

Less trash and more matter,

Then you have

O yes, you have

Of course you have 

Always lived your life

A little more sweeter

A little more hotter

Little more zestier,

Than what your people

Might know of you

By trying a little more 

Brighter,

With laughter 

And happiness

Sans ignorance or 

Annoyance, so

You 

May

Just 

Keep

On 

Being 

You,

Alive!

When Saraswati Mata Blesses, Be There!

   Uma jiji from Richmond TX 

I have been meaning to write about Sri Sri Sri Tridandi Srimannarayana Chinna Jeeyar Swamy ji's visit since the past few years and I realize when I am asked to write, I had some thing or the other that came up. I could not present my observations from almost three or five visits since.

That was not my intention however, it slipped through the mesh of small things to be done and taken care of, while the moments, in form of kalasya Narayana, slipped past into ever moving void of eternity..

Of all these years, of attempting to write, I had seen life in several of its forms, unfolding to me. I have perceived Eshwara swaroopam very close to my heart and soul a number of times and, rest is a thing of past .

To the devotee who truly wishes to perceive God, He will manifest.

I like to revisit this topic and share my thoughts,  however, I like to revisit another time.

Today, I just wanted to update that, I faced lot of troubles and tried several attempts to write anything ; They all became futile efforts and I realize the reason could be that, when Saraswati mata blesses you with a skill to write, and when you are asked to present your observations and learnings, you just need to do. If the flow of knowledge is stopped, or restricted, it may vanish. I have seen since  then, no matter what I took up, it did not get done. Not the 6 weeks course in leadership from Said's school of Business, Oxford University, not a doctoral study attempt from Vedic University not a post graduate course in my mother tongue, Telugu; not my projects I intend to complete in my executive doctoral studies, so far.

Today, I am able to understand, no matter what or how I need to present my work, what I need first and foremost is discipline, and sincerity. One cannot fulfill bigger dreams if one cannot catch up with smaller tasks. All tasks of knowledge sharing are ordained by mata Saraswati themselves.

I will update my future endeavours as and how I achieve the attempts and succeed in fulfilling my duties and tasks. I already feel lighter sharing my thoughts with You all. Jai Srimannarayana adiyen _/\_

Prayers to mata Saraswati: 

Sree Sharada, mother of all arts, knowledge, and seat of wisdom, may you bless all, may I be included in those blessings and seek your Karuna. Adiyen.

No Matter What, Chanting Helps Me Always

No matter what: Let This Be Known:

I have experienced the power of Rama namam and Narayana mantram so profoundly everytime, since over a decade or two. Several years back, on one Sunday at Shri Ashtalakshmi Temple, as I was standing during Maha Harathi time, I felt very painful in my knees and could not even stay standing. Our friends and devotees Sriman Srinivas Bojja garu and Smt. Kumudha Bojja garu helped me to walk until the end of the hall where I could sit down. There were rows of chairs to help one sit down. After I went home, my feet were still hurting for days. But one time as the song Sri Ramachandra krupaalu bhaja man was coming on TV, I was surprised to see I was regaining my ability to stand and walk. I had similar problems with my hands, feet, as well as talking many times. I was unable to lift even a spoon or a book with my hands due to some arthritis or mascular pain, but Ramachandra Kripalu have blessed me again to mobilize my limbs and bring back normalcy. I just pick up my self, and do mudras I learnt as a  Bhratnatyam student many many years back and see that I am able to move my neck, hands, feet using the jnanam bestowed on me from matha Saraswati themselves in form of Gurus, from Munshi ji of Hyderabad to Uma Nagarseth ji of Houston, where on and off I was fortunate to learn some tattaduvus etc. Even when I am alone, I keep getting these ischemic attacks, but recover  quickly or eventually. They said it could be due to Potassium deficiency. That has helped me whenever I needed, but I do not have to depend on the medicine much. 

Last night again I was affected, actually I noticed since a week or so. My knee would hurt so much even if I sit on a chair for as much as 10 -15 minutes, continually. I have to get up and walk or put my concentration and pull my strength together and walk. I cannot do it alone. I chant name of Sri Rama or Narayana, and it gives me strength. I cannot walk at that time, I have to follow the energy of the rhythm to stay alive, from the sound waves of Rama namam.

 It is the inner force of Shri Parvathi matha, and Saraswati and Sri matha that gives me strength and ability to be mobile by following the rhythm, of the namasmaran or chanting and take steps as given by the gurus and take aduvulu, or any movement. If not, I am a vegetable.

Last night at the Shri Ashtalakshmi Temple again, I was suffering with another episode of Ischemic attack and had to walk out from where I was sitting and listening to Shri Swamy ji's lecture. As I pulled myself out before it was too late even to walk by myself, Smt. Laxmi Medi ji noticed and came rushing to help me. I went into the Goda ammavaru's garden (Nandana vanam, developed by devotees and volunteers of Shri Ashtalakshmi Temple) where Tulasi, and other Pushpa vanams are there, talk to each leaf, petal and creeper, finding Narayana in their love as if they move their heads or tiny fingers through the petals and creepers. They respond to you, love you and give you life source and happiness to be able to stay alive and show our gratitude to mother earth. 

I did not share since so many years, but nama smaran gives me life, when everyone who helped me raise are in India or elsewhere, I trust His name and the sound of His name pulls every string in my otherwise inactive body and makes me move, chant or dance and once again keeps me alive. Jai Srimannarayana Jai SriRam Jai Jai Jai Srimannarayana 🙏🙏💐💐🙏🙏adiyen

a one line review of Truelies: a.show on CBS..

Hey guys. 

The story: has theme, and keeps building each day, with a make believe worklife and home life.. 

The action: protagonists try to put up a 007 kind of action in a 40 minutes show, absolutely Truelie. Neither can they deliver the product nor can they pretend without pretension..yeah. that is how tautological it is... yeah. That too...

Direction: actors chip in a whole bunch of words, all at a time. Music is not blended. It is inserted, haphazardly.  Scenes of action ditto.

It could have made a better audio or podcast show... not audiovisual... 

Action, trying their best but so are other academy awardees.

Overall rating

***.... ok *. (3+1, in all i.e.)

No more.

A Review: Independence, A novel

I was trying endlessly to read the book, since the day it arrived, preordered on Amazon! It is none other than my favorite author’s latest epic of lives of women, this time again hailing from Calcutta a dream city and mother of millions! Yes, this is about Dr. Chitra Divakarini’s novel, Independence! I realized, it is not me trying to read or unable to proceed or any such thing. I found it very interesting, but my eyes, as they are growing older, could not read much with the artificial light the Utilities are offering! Then it was serendipity as I sit myself down over the straight chair on the patio and set myself up to read the book, starting once again from page one.

Is this a book of sorts or what? It isn’t ! It is like the silver river shining in the moonlight throwing the bright moonlights of October, on a broad spring day! The Lines are so amazingly flowing like the stars from the heavens, stuck together on a beautiful Bangal Silk saree with Kantha work that is showing new meanings and beauty every time you look at it. The way story is designed, and the words from stars are borrowed from the magic finger tips of the creator no less than a student who learnt to play the Veena of her words, right from the fingertips of Mata Saraswathi and whose lyrics shine even the darkest of darkness staying within the deprived heart from light of knowledge or love or empathy and brings home that miracle of words as they are played on the exquisite hands of the maestro, who can tune the hearts of the readers and play the divine music of eternal travelers from yonder and ancient!

I love the way the mood is created as I read in this bright light amidst quietness despite the rustle on the highway as the fresh air touching the greenery in the backyard, along with a baby Neem tree, curry tree planted in the pots and surviving few seasons of frosty winters..

It is not just the light that is helping me read, it is the content and the story starting with young girl Priya, winning over the zamindar’s chess game and realizing the gifts she is receiving despite tough times at home, by her father treating their patients with love and without returns.. if not for the artistic works of their mother quilting those magical stars for the weddings, as she remembers her mother Bina..

O my loving lord of the words! I still need to read more but, being an artist it is difficult for me not to relate it to the pleasant sound of the sparrows, robins blue Jays, mocking birds conversing loudly as if saying ”teacher teacher” and the aura it creates inside one’s heart as they get to seek the ambrosia these feelings of one generation people come alive again and again every time one reads. Let me not stop here. I will return later and share the joy again, as you share yours, by reading the book Independence, now on Amazon, and wondrous bookstores near you and originally released in India and published by Harper Collins! Ladies and gentlemen and readers all over the Universe, here is Dr. Chitra Divakarini’s latest wonder of a story that is always magical from their pen, Independence! 

For someone who is an audio person, Audible is an excellent answer!  Couple it with read along you would enjoy twice as much fun! Now if you are a visual media person, I would say you gotta create it asking your students to perform, nay?

Part 2

I promised you, I would update how I respond as and how the story goes forth for the novel Independence: a novel, by Dr. Chitra Divakaruni ji.

Ages have passed, not only since I promised, but also since the story of Priya has moved forward. 

I would not reveal the length and breadth of the extent of story that took place, but I can tell this much: You would not want to stop reading, from. Where you were to reach almost four or five chapters into the story.

We find the greatness of humanity and human spirit as we see the ups and downs of politico-social upheavals back at the time of Independence and National Movement in India, how right from going to participate in Dandi Satyagraha to make salt, to full fledged riots across the city of Calcutta have brought changes in the lives of people who went through these. People, young and old, men and women, have experienced the plight of losing a friend a near or dear person and life cannot be the same but it has to go on, no matter what.. 

Later,

We also find how sentiments and family dramas shape the lives.. although, I do know people have better opportunities and encouragement available in these days, than back then.. Thanks to so many people and organizations that bring forth the spirit of Independence not just to individuals who appear to be hail and healthy but also others of special needs and care required, and this movement is not just momentary, but very precious and ever going, for the flower of Independence designed, dreamed and lived, cherished and brought into a reality by all.. I was going through some of these strong responses my heart was feeling and without sharing these, I cannot hold on to go on listening or reading longer than where I am at.. Now I can move on … into the quest of finding the more of what…

Later,

-Uma Jiji!

Instinct, Reasoning, Rationalization... Is it Science?

When it comes to understanding science, nature, behavior and other aspects What is your favorite style?

Is it what you have a hunch, that helps in theorizing?

Do you believe in whatever gut feeling you have, and can you generalize, based on that unspecific thought, and take action?

Do you always think, whatever one says is an end all and be all?

What is it that motivates you to think of something and enquire the truth?

if you think someone is an expert, do you take 100% of whatever they say is true?

Do you share your work with others and allow them to examine?

Are we talking some sense?

Think!

Is quality better than quantity

We learn about creating value to the consumer, by companies.

We also see that many a population of the world is having lack of resources.

So, is creating value by specializing in the utility of a product, so much wrong that it is catering to the 1% of wealthier, rather than the 99% of common person?

Is producing art so illogical?

Just a thought... Jiji is now chewing over a chewey....!