monday asura mardhini

the winter evenings of delhi. bus rides to nowhere just to stand at the back of dtc buses and exult as the cold air slapped the face, eyes shining even as the tears streamed down. winter nights, the freezing bicycle ride back to the iit hostels from chanakya cinema, fingers numb, ears frozen, and the promise of hot paranthas at kishen lal's propelling the bicycle hostelwards. that and the song of winter pounding on the heart. rewind a few more years and i am a boy once again, scampering excitedly from ground to ground, excited as a puppy for it is dussera evening and ravana is about to receive his comeuppance in a thousand different places across the city. all those home made ravanas and the home made arrows and the desperate prayers that the twain meet! we made and dispatched our ravanas too. and to our eyes they were bigger and better than anyone else's, never mind their tenuous relationship with the wind or ours with the fire that was supposed to bring on the grand finale :-) delhi during dussera. it were not only the magnificent multi-headed ravanas but also the lilas that launched the celebrations. you have not really experienced dussera if you have not experienced the ram lila productions, big or small :-) how to explain the emotions and the acting, that dialogue delivery, and those battles,,,just to have go there and experience it i say! foggy winter evenings, much drama and theatre, the cosy companionship of chana and peanuts, and the promised warmth of good's triumph over evil - it was a good life that :-) and then fast forward a little and its durga puja time in kolkatta - my second winter at iim - and that momentous decision to stay back and experience kolkatta during the durga puja vacation. inspired call! jam packed buses that ferried you to behala from joka, extreme intimacy in the trams and the minibuses that took you to the city, and then the tide of humanity that swept you in its wake in the city of joy, unabashedly expressing its joy. what an experience! what joy! and what beauties :-) pandal upon pandal, mishti upon mishti, beauty upon beauty - you had no choice but to surrender to it all, and happily so :-) and then the return to a quiet and empty campus with nothing to do but to drink some strong tea and laze in the winter sun. that was a good life too :-) you really lean on that fast forward button and you find yourself in ettimadai. its a saturday night and your neighbours have called you to see their "golus" - at one level an exhibition of dolls and figurines in odd numbered tiers - but to those who have put them together so much more. so many stories the golus tell - of the gods and the goddesses, and of love and devotion. a seventy plus mother whose golus we see every year. each year a different arrangement, a different theme, but the same child like enthusiasm when she (and her husband) explain the golu to us. this saturday evenings visits to little gayathri and sundari maam's homes were memorable too. magnificent golu arrangements, great prasad, an impromptu music concert, and some lovely stories. "this patram is more than hundred years old. my mother used it in her golus too." "i was planning to put a little motor under the serpent's hoods so that when it moved it would appear as if krishna was dancing on top..." how much love, how much pride behind the golus :-) one festival. so many ways to celebrate! and such heartfelt celebration! that is india :-) and beneath it all one message - the triumph of light over darkness, of truth over untruth, of good over evil. for this time's poem we travel to a small village in bengal where one of its beloved saint poets from the eighteenth century, ramprasad sen, is busy doing what he loved to do best - pouring his heart out to ma kali :-) A Country Fair Drive me out of my mind, O Mother! What use is esoteric knowledge Or philosophical knowledge Transport me totally with the burning wine Of your all-embracing love. Mother of mystery, who imbues with mystery The hearts of those who love you, Immerse me irretrievably In the stormy ocean without boundary, Pure love, pure love, pure love. Wherever your lovers reside Appears like a madhouse To common perception. Some are laughing with your freedom, Others weep tears of your tenderness, Still others dance, whirling with your bliss. Even your devoted Gautama, Moses, Krishna, Jesus, Nanak and Muhammad Are lost in the rapture of pure love. This poet stammers, Overcome with longing: "When? When? When? When will I be granted companionship With her intense lovers?" Their holy company is heavenly A country fair for those mad with love Where every distinction Between master and disciple Disappears Their love of love sings: "Mother! Mother! Mother! Who can fathom your mystery, Your eternal play of love with love? You are divine madness, O goddess, Your love the brilliant crown of madness, Please make this poor poet madly wealthy With the infinite treasure of your love - Ramprasad From: Gospel Of Ramakrishna pure love, pure love, pure love. that is a life too :-) may it be ours to live even if for this week :-) happy bijoy dashami! much love, d&s