In this chaotic world You have come to reside in my home In this noisy jungle You have brought silence to my mind In this blind rush for wealth You have given me the greatest gift of all In this illusion of life You light the fire of enlightenment.
I have often wondered what is it I am looking for when I visit a shrine. I have wondered what is it I feel when I come close to sacred altars. I have sat back to think, how does a person feel the presence of the Lord residing there?
The darkness within a shrine brings a mysterious world to light that is magical and exclusive. There are no words to describe what the heart and mind can feel when the sanctity of the shrine is preserved, and preservation is described such.
Darkness describes the void beyond this illusion of life, it is the darkness in the realm of nothingness. It is the space, the air where nothing exists. And in this darkness, there is a drop of light, that lights up the form of that who is formless. Fire, the beautiful path of enlightenment brings back to our real world a sacred truth that can only be imagined. The fire, is a path that illuminates the chamber inside, fire is the purity that enlightens one and blesses us with divine vision. Fire is so bright that it blinds the eye from all its illusion. Fire is the heat that reduces the ego to ash. Fire is the formless that gives us a glimpse of the form of the Lord. Fire can neither be created nor destroyed by us. That which is ever present, that which just appears and disappears, that which has the power to sustain us as well as destroy us, that which glows brighter than anything else within the chamber... isn't that the very Lord Himself giving us a small example of how vast and limitless he is, like the fire, he can be a drop of light or grow within seconds into a deadly forest fire? He can give warmth and scrotch us to death at the same time. Isn't this duality the very nature of the Lord Himself?
In these flames does one notice the silence deep within, the darkness now cut away as the light bathes the sacred shrine. The wet floor shimmers as the tiny waves of water come flowing down from the idol in mystical elegance. These are the waters of life, freely falling into the abyss of darkness below. These are the sacred drops that cover his form in purity as they drape his being as they flow down. Crystal clear waters form ripples of a thousand suns embedded in its various reflections. What a beautiful sight it is to see the Lord enveloped in such divinity. The formless, the shapeless, that takes the shape of anything its put into, like the atman that resides in any given body and gives it life, and yet it is so pure and crystal clear even if the container is flawed... Isn't this the very nature of the Lord we define in water?
The air is fragrant, the space is so pure. There is a rush of emotion as the eyes are set in a gaze to look up to this life beauty within these walls. The air is thick with the fragrance of flowers and incense. It is everywhere at the same time, all enveloping, and pure, unmoved and stable. It fills the space in this chamber, covers the ether with its presence and one can feel the gradual flowing waves of the sound that carries the rhythm of the sacred mantras spoken. It echoes within the shrine wall, and one syllable fades into the other rhythmically bringing alive the mystical presence of the Lord. How then cant the heart melt as such beauty overflows within the mind of the bhakta?
He is, He shall be, as he stands in the emblem of stone. He is the unshakable, He is that which has never changed. He is the definition of the eternal, that or equilibrium, that of silence and stability. He is and will always be there, through the world around may perish in its chaos. He stays there unmoved, untouched, unhurt...He is and will always be.
The shrine chamber presents to us the Lord, present in all the elements that adorn him, surround him in this miniature grandeur. This is pure life energy that empowers us to go back and face the world again. This is the power that is subtle and yet makes its presence felt if one has to reach its doors in complete humility. How then can we desecrate it with noise and corruption? How then can a priest have absolutely no faith while they utter the sacred verses? How can we tolerate this utter disrespect to the very shrine that protects our well being?
He is the formless, like the fire, He is bright and wonderful like its flame. He is pure as in its whiteness. He appears like the fire and He disappears all the same, but like the fire, he destroys all that has to die but doesnt perish in its flames. He shines in its glow, as the waters of offering reflect His being. He bathes in its pure light as the drops of water rhythmically wash his feet. He is like the water that takes the form of the vessel he resides within. He is always present like the unshaken stone alive and breathing within this chamber in small grandeur as the incense covers His little room. He is real, alive and silent watching the gradual decline of pure faith at his doorstep.
Attainment of spiritual bliss has its various levels. To the totally ignorant just the mention of these syllables is a great feeling of achievement, since they are unable to control their fleeting mind racing from one thought to another. To the more inquisitive kind, these sacred syllables make their presence felt more often by constant recitation yet the significance of it does not awaken them yet. To the connoisseur the skill of pronunciation is of maximum importance, and clarity in each word matters the most. To the lover of Lord Shiva these syllables are pure music, so sacred and divine that even the utterance of these syllables makes them feel supremely blessed.
This is not just about having devotion but it takes us one step further towards the intensity of it. With every level of contemplation on this mantra crossed, there is a new high to be reached.
Om Na Ma Shi Va Ya, does not end here. It extends into a series of verses each starting with a sacred syllable assigned to this summary:
To the beginner, this is hard to pronounce. It requires skill and regular practice to twist the tongue around to recite each syllable properly. To the intellect, meaning of each word matters. Each word stitched into these verses either describes Lord Shiva in name or describes His actions in praise. For example, Trilochanaya is the 3 eyed Lord Shiva and Bhasmangaharaya is the ash clad Lord Shiva. Pinaka Hastaya is the one who holds the bow and dakshadwaranaasakaya is He who destroyed the sacrifice of Daksha.
At this level of intellect one would like to believe that the recitation of this mantra results in praising the Lord even by mere recitation. It is a time consuming art to remember the meaning of every word that is recited in this mantra. Having got the skill or correct pronunciation and having learned the meaning of each word recited one would like to believe one has done the best and has achieved all that there is to achieve in this.
But is this where it stops?
What we most often omit, which is beyond the realm of the intellectual mind clouded by ego, is that of hard core devotion and in that state we get to experience something else, something that is very different.
There is subtle truth in this mantra, and this goes far deeper. The secrecy in the magnitude of energy embedded in this mantra in not just in the realization of the meaning of what is being recited, but in identifying the rhythm of recitation. Stress and clarity of words matter, but what matters even more is the rhythm and the music it falls into. There is a difference between mechanical recitation and devoted recitation.
Each word in each verse has been selectively chosen to impart a rhythm of a particular nature. Similar words with similar stress level that need to be recited properly in exactly the same rhythm with adequate knowledge of where to stop and where to start with nuances of change in minor rhythmic pattern are strung together in a single verse.
Therefore the collection of words in each verse varies from that of the previous verse giving that beeja mantra its character. The sound emitted when the bhakta recites the first verse gives the bhakta the experience of the rhythmic flow of the Lord’s Sacred damaru beat in that order which is described by "Na". Similarly the character of the sacred syllable "Ma" "Shi" "Va" "Ya" is described by the words of praise painstakingly strung together giving a feel of alterations in sound for each verse. None of the verses appear to have the same rhythm, but the flow of sound elaborated the real meaning of the syllables that compose the summary of Lord Shiva's Beeja Mantra.
Language in its restrictive nature, allows me to explain just this much of the experience. To those who are inquisitive it is a good exercise to keep reciting and listening to one self, to identify this subtle underlying beat in each verse. A level of bliss is felt when we realize the pattern of this beat and start to sing it and make it a part of us, a part of our rhythmic breath. When the excitement of subtle beauty in realizing and appreciating the nature of sound touches us, bliss is felt in its own small way.
The experience of realization is undoubtedly most amazing and hard to leave once it has been started. At the end it is an overwhelming feeling to realize that this is just the tip of the larger iceberg.
[Please note:
There might be textual flaws in this mantra as I have come across 2 versions of it with minor variations. This post in entirely my personal interpretation of the most sacred verse that describes Lord Shiva, and this interpretation has just started.]
From the darkness there rises A power of superior nature That thinks not before destroying evil That leaves only blood and ashes to spare
She is feared for her power She is feared for her appearance Yet she protects us from evil In the dead of the darkest night
The gentleness in her eyes Appears fiery in the night light The blue sheen in her subtle glow Appears mystical in the moonless night The wrath to destroy Is bright in her red eyes She rises now to rule Kalika Mata at Kalighat.
Its the best moment in time to test one's endurance, Kalighat has everything, the true display of corruption, the disgust on the priest's face, the sheer lack of devotion, the noisy mob of which I am a part, the absence of peace, the dirtiest shrine that has never been cleaned, and of course in the middle of it She stands in her silent fury - Kalika Mata. It is silent fury... that expression that stays locked on her face painting her so coy and yet so fiery and beautiful.
This temple appeared a lot different in the earlier days. The river flowed much closer giving Kalighat its name. Surrounded by forests, with a river flowing by and the burning of the dead near the shrine bring the mysticism of the moonless night to the fore. In the dark night one can listen closely to her presence, the sound of anklets as they walk around the floor, stamping it with a trishul. And then the rhythmic sound floods the air with resounding beats of a dancer so crisp in her movement.
And when we look up to her shrine, she sits there almost ready to charge forward, colored in vermilion, a bright orange that glows over her forehead. Its gleams in the light of the lamp, casting shadows of her form on the floor. She is so beautiful. She has this calm around her and yet there is wrath on her face. She is so gentle and coy and yet she yields sharp weapons. She stays static atop the body of Lord Shiva but she is shakti, the dynamic movement that destroys all life, all evil. कालिकायैविद्महेश्मशानवासिन्यैधीमहि तन्नो घोरा प्रचोदयात्।
She is the Mother of the moonless night. She is the jingling of anklets in the darkness. She is the flaming eyes of purity that vanquish all that is impure. Why do we fear her?
She took form to destroy the demons of the night, she took blood to destroy evil. Why then do we fear her now, why then do we offer blood of innocent animals when that of evil men should be at the altar?
She walks in nakedness into the blue hued sky. She knows no shame when she is so pure. Why then do we remain silent over her nature and yet not follow her footsteps to discard our vanity?
She walks wild with flowing hair, with an appearance of darkness that envelopes her. Why do we fear her when she sports her brilliance in her awakened third eye?
She is the light that is beyond life, she is the light that guides us to enlightenment. Why then do we fear death and not want to live near her home, the sacred place of the cremation ground?
She is the truth, she is that which burns in fury, she is the divine light that rules us. Why then do we hide in our ignorance and not want to take this path more seriously?
Are we scared of death, of unfamiliarity, of unpleasantness, of unlearning, of that path which we will tread alone, of silence, of the unknown?
I sit in front of His sacred shrine, My emotions flow like a river of love My mind fights back with an army of thoughts My vision keeps my thoughts at bay
My senses focus on that single point My eyes rest on His form My voice recites the sacred words My ears listen to the sweet rhythm
Few moments of concentration is called for when one sits to worship the Lord at home and yet it is difficult to achieve. It is a war within the mind when emotions that stem from deep rooted devotion get challenged by worldly thoughts. It is a fight with the self to discard the world and its people around. It is the biggest challenge to be comfortable alone while one sits to pray at home.
When the world and all its people is but a stray piece of illusion, when the thoughts within the head are but a figment of my imagination, when my mind is put to rest and nothing exists anymore, this is my first renunciation.
It is hard to find peace at a crowded temple, it is hard to ignore the corruption of the priests who is trying to make his ends meet. It is even tougher to forget the world when one is surrounded by a crowd of jabbering devotees.
Yet in this chaos there is peace to be found when I near the sanctum, when I set eyes on the beauty of divinity within these walls. There is sacredness to be felt when I realize this is about me and Him and nothing else really matters. This is my second renunciation.
It is hard to let go off the ego when my knowledge controls me. It is a deadly feeling of superiority when I realize I understand the root principle hidden in scriptures. It is a poison of egoism when I feel I own my thought and wisdom.
Humility is that which is invoked when the Lord gives me a harsh moment to learn this lesson. Praise and song is what comes out of me when I realize my focus is the Lord and not the knowledge I seek. Awakening of the soul happens when I realize the path to divine wisdom is pure love and not accumulated knowledge through books. It is my wish to see the Lord more than being granted my earthly wishes. This is my third renunciation.
The path through spiritualism brings surprises as well as benefits. It can draw the serious devotee to be very powerful and it can reveal its amazing secrets that the world can only imagine. It can transform the devotee into a person who knows little suffering and fear.
In all these enchanting experiences one is left with few to share their feelings with. In this wild ride to heaven there is little to explain that this is Real and everything else is just an illusion. It is even tougher to express oneself when the world doesn't want to listen anymore. This is when one leaves the world behind and follows their own path, with little or nothing to share anymore with anyone, this is my next renunciation.
Peace is when I detach from all, people and things, desires and aspirations. Calm is what I achieve when I realize the purpose of my existence, the value of this life given to me. Desire is what I give up when I realize this is an illusion I am stuck in and its time to let go.
The path of spiritualism has taught me well, showed me the way to an enchanting world that cannot be defined but can only be experienced. The Lord is Real and not just a figment of my imagination. I dream of Him, I talk to Him and I only wish he comes to me and reveals Himself to me. These tests of endurance are just a play of life now, these problems He creates are just a tease to see how I react, these miseries that present themselves are but a way of life. When nothing seems to affect me anymore except that last glimpse of Him before I part, this is my last renunciation.
Srinivasan stood contemplating over the beauty of the monument that lay silent in front of him. In the cool breeze, he could hear the wind echo through the rocks, bringing with it the messages of hard work and toil, passion and love, the call of war and bloodshed, hatred and fear, and a host of supremely high emotions that fell to dust with the collapse of this little world in stone.
He sat down and looked up to the remaining bricks and stone that made up this temple, as they still held on together a mystical stage that still had exquisit dansels dancing on its walls. The mesmerising beauty still enveloped him, the mysticism of the past still whispered in his ears and the ground plan echoed profound mysterious elements of truth that were now almost brought down to dust.
He wondered, to himself that this land in some era long ago was lush green and blooming. The air was pure and the earth rich with life. The waters were crystal clear with the sunlight shimmering in its waves and there in the middle of this silence and serenity would have been a rishi in deep meditation in a quest to attain higher bliss. Srinivasan imagined him sitting still, motionless in severe penance till at last the Lord appeared before him and asked him for a boon...
This was documented; his penance, the sacred syllables and the moment of awakening to the supreme, the experience and the boon all wrapped into sacred syllables that described it in the form of a simple scriptural verse.
-*-*-*-*-
Centuries past by, eras passed and a young man happened to walk this path and came upon this place. He lay under a tree enjoying the environment and decided to worship the lord here right under the tree. He installed a linga made out of the earth and offered it flowers and fruits for a while and then disappeared into the darkness of time.
-*-*-*-*-
Time shrouded this emblem of the Lord, this symbol of life till there came upon it a King who had been out hunting. He came by this place and decided to take some rest. As he settled for the afternoon he noticed a linga under the tree and went closer to observe this icon, or rather what remained of it. He decided to build a temple around it and give it proper ritual and worship. Soon there came up an exquisit temple that housed a linga that replaced what was uprooted and consecrated the newer version to the shrine chamber. But his happiness was short lived. War engulfed the land and the enemy was far too strong and the kingdom fell to the oncoming forces. The temple was ravaged and demolished and the shrine chamber was unrecognizable with the icon destroyed.
-*-*-*-*-
Years later another king happened to come in search of rich land and came upon this location. He decided to have a temple built around the same place. Within this extravagant temple he installed a much more larger and flamboyant linga in its shrine a little farther away. The temple grew with riches and was prosperous till it fell to invaders. Subsequently, newer temples came up and several "pranaprathisthas" took place to install newer versions of the linga within the main walls of the sanctum. And yet they fell to enemies.
-*-*-*-*-
It is NOW and Srinivasan was staring up at this delapidated structure that cried its past. A more recent version of this shrine was built a little farther away but by now the original location of the shrine was lost and so was the original shrine. Srinivasan looked up wondering what was left of the sanctity of this shrine. Srinivasan sat back thinking deeply...
What made this place get its sanctity? What, in this whole story actually defines the supreme?
Was it the effort that the Rishi took to worship and go into severe penance to have the Lord descend into this world and bless him? Was it the mythology that surrounds this place and its reference in the sacred scriptures? Was it the spot where the Lord had appeared? Was it the earth or the air that was so sacred? Or was it the era where everything was so pure that it wouldnt really matter whether he appeared here or 10 feet away. Or was it the Linga that was kept here by a devotee who took to worshiping the Lord? Was it the temple that was built to house this linga or any of the subsequent versions of the temples that were built? Or was it the newer version of the idol that was consecrated by means of ritual and not by severe penance? Or was it the very structure that protected it? What is it that attracts us to temples? or Shrines?
Or is it pure Bhakti? That what ever it is this land is sacred and therefore even if there is a mosque standing in its place today it should not matter... Bhakti knows no form or designation of religion.
When we look up to this delapidated temple why does it hurt? Is it...
This exquisit structure in stone so paintakingly put together now destroyed by some heartless soul?The sanctity of this structure, but is it the structure that is sanctified or the earth on which it stands or the young man or the rishi... The shrine that has been vandalized? The feeling that the Lord has left us behind on this earth to face our peril? Or the feeling that the purity of this earth has been vandalized by men and now there is nothing left of it but pure impending death in the form of slow pralaya...
Think about it... the original shrines of Somnath, Kashi Vishwanath, and many more temples are long gone... I really dont have a clue on what we are worshiping. What is the composition of divinity and why is it that in the middle of a mad crowd and a threat of a stampede, I still felt 3 seconds of absolute bliss and void at Thirupati... What is it we feel in these places... its far more than vibration... its something else...
How do we define knowledge? How do we define the difference between academically gained knowledge and that of divine wisdom? How do we comprehend the supreme nature of that wisdom where its nature is to be realized and not to be put to material use?
The ancient scriptures present to us the nature of this divine wisdom and the realization of it in the worship of three forms of the supreme. Each form represents one aspect of the Trinity and the iconography of this form seldom changed through the times. It is therefore very evident that supreme wisdom is of a different kind and in this yuga we have been given the nature of it possibly in the form of sound, in the form of Vak(or the spoken word).
Hence, being blessed with divine wisdom renders us the all knowing, where we just know the answer to every question and our life is in the purest intellectual form where even illusion of the people or life around us falls meaninglessly in front of our realm. This is one definition of enlightenment.
The second form of being blessed, is with words of sweetness that take form when we express ourselves using the sacred form of sound in producing Vakya. The spoken word is so sweet as honey and so potent in energy that it can transform even stone to gold. This comes with the talent of stitching sound into a beautiful garland of words with wit and overpowering intellect that the world is silent and speechless over its composition.
The third form of blessing is when the self swoons to the higher level of awakening where everything is music and words spoken stem from thoughts so pure that there is no malice, there is no hurt in the sweetness of the chosen word to the world around us. And therefore sound matters, the given word matters, truth matters, and possibly pleasant delivery matters. Most pray for one of few things, to be either blessed with Goddess Saraswati seated on our tongue such that what ever comes out is honey sweet. Other pray for better concentration and improved intellect for a longer duration of time to Lord Vishnu in the form of Hayagriva and lastly those who have gone beyond the maya of living, and really want to know whats beyond in the unknown choose to worship Shiva Dakshinamurti to be blessed with supreme enlightenment.
And this is when iconography echoes all around us, the vision of divine wisdom takes shape.
Saraswati: Goddess of learning
Ya Devi Stuyate Nityam Vibhuhairvedaparagaih| Same Vasatu Jihvagre Brahmarupa Saraswat||
O Goddess of great wisdom, who is praised by the intelligent, who has mastered the shastras, the consort of the creator himself, May you continue to reside on my tongue.
Oh Mother, who blesses the world, I worship you at the start of my education. I bow to you to help me make this experience fruitful and bring success to my efforts.
Goddess Saraswati is depicted dressed all in white, on a lotus seat that symbolizes supreme pure wisdom and her vahana is a swan. She is occasionally associated with the color yellow, the color of the mustard flower that blooms in spring. She is depicted 4 armed which represents the four aspects of the human personality: mind, intellect, alertness and ego. She holds the veena, the scriptures in the form of a book, a garland of crystals or akshamala, and a kamandalu of water. She depicts not just the perfection of the arts but also the higher powers of meditation, creative energy and the rhythm in sound.
Hayagriva: God of learning and concentration
jnAna-Ananda-mayam devam nirmala-sphaTikAkRtim| AdhAram sarvavidyAnAm hayagrIvam upAsmahe||
Hayagriva is a lesser known form of Lord Vishnu who is draped completely in white, horse headed and seated with his hand in vyakhyana mudra. He holds an akshamala and a book that depicts his form as a teacher. His face is always serene and peaceful.
He blesses his devotees with the power of remembrance and concentration to realize supreme wisdom.
Lord Shiva Dakshinamurti - The Supreme Teacher
Gurur Brahma Gurur Vishnu | Gurur Devo Mahesh Varaha|| Guru Shakshat Para Brahma|Tasmai Shri Guruve Namaha|| Guruve sarva lokaanaam Bhishaje bhava roginaam| Nithyai sarvadhiyaanam Dakshinamurthaye namo namaha||
Lord Shiva is depicted teaching the Vedas to the Sanahadimunivars, the 6 great sages among whom Hayagriva is also seated. Lord Shiva is seen seated under a banyan tree facing south and draped in yellow. His right foot rests on the mythical form of apasmara purusha who signifies ego and ignorance and his left foot is folded on his lap. He holds a snake or a rosary in his hand and is sometimes depicted holding a bowl of fire in the other hand. He is either depicted in vyakhyana mudra or abhaya mudra or gyana mudra while the other hand holds a bundle of kusha grass indicating the sacred scriptures. Alternatively, he holds a veena, and is known as Veena Dakshinamurti.
Cutting across the entire pantheon of Gods that are housed in Hindu iconography, three forms of the supreme echo the iconography of divine wisdom. The purity in it, the evolution of the self through the experience of enlightenment and the sweetness of the words that come forth give us a brief hint of what potent powers lie deep within our being. Learning is one aspect which can be undone with time and can be forgotten, but divine wisdom once achieved is a state where there is no going back.
Where the void meets chaos Where diversity meets unity Where noise meets silence Where the self is and isn't
This is the moment of truth at the shrine of Sri Venkateshwara, Tirupati. It is one of the most popular shrines of India that has millions coming to meet the Lord, to have a glimpse of him and leave with a heavy heart, with deep emotion to have been blessed.
Getting to the foothills of Tirupati means we have been granted this divine vision, the experience of which is not easy to get. We are tuned into it from childhood to bear, to endure and to be patient till we make it to the inner shrine. This was a trip, of a different nature, of a profound kind for it was as eventful as one could have it. With a minor bus accident delaying us by 45 mins and waiting endlessly before the temple for our guide to emerge from the crowds, we were finally guided towards the entrance of the temple.
This was a test of sheer endurance, with the harsh sunlight burning the stone and cement flooring that led to the temple, it was no easy walk to make it remotely close to the shrine. After 10 minutes of walk with blisters and heat eating into our feet that resisted the harsh treatment we made it to cooler ground. Then began the next ordeal, that of being a caged animal pushed among people and loving it as the only other echo among the chatter is the sound of the Lord's name. There were people everywhere, the pulse of India's population is truly felt here. We can insulate ourself from public transport, unreserved coaches, Mumbai locals but we cannot escape the queue of Tirupati darshan if we want to feel the real pulse of India.
Here caste doesn't matter, maybe even faith doesn't matter for one could be a foreigner subjected to the same ordeal. Here Bhakti matters for its the real test of facing the most powerful force in raw form. The gathering momentum of India's brute force, the raw power of the moving crowd that for some strange reason is racing towards the inner shrine and what's worse, we are in it. In the midst of this chaos lay a family within the caged queue, a helpless man holding his child who peacefully slept in his arms, with two other children staring at their mother who was not keeping well. She seemed to be in severe pain, sweating and gasping, seated on the floor, letting the world go by in all its insensitivity.
We were India's raw population and not a single soul among us even got down to asking what the problem was... and like a river in flood we moved on leaving the family to fend for itself. It was further down in the queue that I noticed a few Devasthanam personnel appearing like scouts with ID cards giving us water from outside the cage. I stepped close to the cage wall trying to hold on while the river of people waded by, speaking in Hindi and then reverting to broken Tamil on request. I tried in all my limited vocabulary to pass the message that there was a distressed family further down in the queue that needed medical attention and they had no way out except be part of this flood. Having gathered some attention and trying to explain the problem to them, I had quite lost my place in the flowing river with my husband patiently waiting and trying to figure out what I was trying to do. This was all I could do, limited within my cage, and braving the river flowing at me, the only good thing I possibly did was raise the alarm of someone in pain and helpless inside.
And then the madness increased, this was not just a river in flood, it was worse for it was reaching levels of stampede as I was being advised to stay in the center of the crowd and never make it to the corners for if I did, I would probably never make it in one piece should I fall or not endure this oncoming force.
We had now entered the temple, the Mecca of the Hindus lay in front of us in all its grandeur. This brings a mixed feeling no matter how many times we get this darshan, its always different, and its never enough. But this time we were here with a purpose, of having made a promise to return to visit the Lord and it had not been very easy fulfilling it. We felt the stress in every inch we covered, He didn't make it easy for us or for anyone else. And now we were racing into the sanctum.
And then we neared the main shrine, deafened by the din surrounding us, blinded by the gold that blankets the shrine roof, numbed by the eloquence of the atmosphere, feeling the fragrance and the essence of the temple shrine and holding on to dear life as we were given a push into the main mandapa. And then we made that crucial turn we saw all heaven descend on us.
Where the void meets chaos Where diversity meets unity Where noise meets silence Where the self is and isn't
Lord Venkateshwara stood there in silence as if He had descended into real life to bless all of us. There was no one inside the sanctum, not a soul and the darkness inside enveloped in the cool air had just Lord Venkateshwara standing at peace with a few lamps burning around Him. He looked simply divine and warm and yet so far away from this chaos that completely surrounded Him. The mind went blank, the feet stopped to move, the breath stopped flowing, I ceased to exist and all that there was in front of me was the VOID.
This is what void is, void is where there is supreme bliss, where there is no sound, nor movement, nor breath, nor mind, but extreme emotion. Void is where the body doesn't matter but soul is completely awake, void is where senses cease to exist but consciousness is in complete power. Void is what happens to us for a few seconds when we are transported to the other world that appears in front of us in the form of Lord Venkateshwara. Void is that feeling of deep emotion where we can neither explain or prove but can only feel and emote.
In this drama of real and pure bliss that bathed us for a few seconds the heart felt overwhelmed and the tears rolled down in complete helplessness. We were rudely woken out of this bliss by a strong hand that pulled us away from that glimpse. We stepped out, emoting and overwhelmed, blessed, exhausted and at peace, in silence, in tranquility staring at the mass of people racing in for their moment of bliss.
We walked out, after having prasadam towards the main door with a bit of irritation towards the crowd that still continued to push. And then there was a scream from inside. We were told to move and a few men came racing out with a stretcher. We moved close against the wall as an army of men with walkies yelled asking for way. We watched as they carried a lady on the stretcher, the same lady who I had seen sometime back suffering in the corner as the queue passed by. She lay lifeless in the stretcher as it raced out of the temple door. My heart stopped as we watched her being carried out towards the ambulance. We wondered, had she just fainted or was it more serious than that, did our raising the alarm in broken Tamil help her get her medical aid sooner? What were the other million insensitive Indians doing instead of calling for help!
In this drama of life, where the single thought in the mind is to fulfill that desire of Darshan, maybe we can do better as compassionate human beings. If we find anyone suffering in the queue for Tirupati darshan or anywhere else, we can call for help and raise the alarm. The Devastanam has ambulances and medical personnel will come to the aid of the suffering person. All we need to do is inform the personnel in uniform that someone is in trouble. The queue will move on, and darshan is inevitable for we cannot and will not get out of it until Darshan is over. For those who collapse on the way, let the heart speak and let compassion flow. I was close to turning a blind eye like the others, I am not sure whether she would have survived without help from the masses - from us.
Where silence meets noise Where life meets the gloom of death Where blind purpose meets compassion
Let the heart flow, let the consciousness awaken This probably is true worship, and the perfect endurance test.
It was nearing dawn and Baladeva woke up, wiping the sleep off his eyes. It was a special day, one of worship, of peace and of divine dialog. Baladeva quickly got up to freshen himself culminating in a purifying bath as he lit the lamps within the chamber of his home and sat down to pray.
As his consciousness drew inwards into a more divine world, Baladeva let his imagination loose on the form of Lord Shiva. After several hours of deep meditation he offered himself as a medium requesting the Lord to descend through his imagination and his hands into the stone that he was going to create the Nataraja out of.
A learned man who had dedicated his life to making sculptures belonging to the iconographic family of Lord Shiva, Baladeva was a renowned sculptor in the Chalukyan court who belonged to the presiding guild of the time. He was well versed in the art of sculpture, he breathed the Shilpa shastra into every sculpture he made and this was divine worship to him.
On this day, he prayed that his worship would be an offering of everything he had, every thing he was capable of and every possible good thought he had ever had in these years of his life. He was getting into another world, into another realm where he detached from his earthly life, his wife and family, his court and wealth and retreated into this world far away from the calls of responsibility. He was here, just him and his imagination to enter into a dialog with the Lord.
Bowing down to the sacred shrine before him, asking the Lord to descend into stone through the passage of his imagination, Baladeva took up the tools and headed towards the divine stone that had remained soaked in water for over 18 days and had been treated to receive and house this divine energy that was soon going to be induced into it. He sat at the center of his chamber, with a lamp light flickering casting shadows of this rocky mass around the stone walls. He closed his eyes, as he felt the surface, to feel the form, to enter into the world of divine dialog.
In the silence of the chamber, as the rising sunlight streamed through the decorative grills of the jali window and the smoke of incense rose into the air clouding the chamber, the sounds of a metal digging into solid rock became more audible to the world outside. With his eyes closed and the thoughts nullified the Lord began to appear in divine light within his mind. He sat carving, his fingers energized by divine presence, his intense imagination was so strong that no noise of the outside world even remotely affected him. Food could wait, sleep could wait, breath could wait, wife could wait, children could wait, King could wait, war could wait but the music within the mind played along as he expressed himself minute after minute into his stony canvas.
Bhakti oozes from within the mind, trickling into reality in tiny drops of tears and sweat while the limbs move on feeling their way through the undulating form that makes up the Lord. Stony pieces rain around the room, dust bathes him, the fire continues to glow feeding into the oil and the shadow cast by the stone starts to take divine form. There is grace in His form, there is compassion in His hand mudras, there is wilderness in His jatamukuta [Head dress], there is beauty in His eyes, there is poetry in His stance, there is stability in His being, there is eternal love in His presence.
The thoughts don't waver and the channel of divine presence continues to stay alive as pure love enveloped in discipline, carves out this form that defines the true nature of the being within. As the beeja mantras of the Lord sprinkle forth in droplets of sound that whisper through the room, a mind works tirelessly on, to bring down that form to reality. For 40 days and 40 nights Baladeva worked on, sporadically taking to a meal made with care and purity, offered to the Lord and then consumed as he relayed his mind back into his imaginary world of charm and splendor bringing down every intricate detail into reality to be witnessed by all.
The sculpture came to completion and Baladeva gave his finer touches to it. The room, now in darkness held just two images within it, that of a sculptor looking up with awe for the first time to see a masterpiece and the second was the distinct shadow of the Lord dancing against the walls. In the darkness of the night, there was divine light within the room, in the silence of the night, one could hear the beats of the dancing lord, in the stillness of the night, one could feel the air swirl as he cut through it with His jatas [free flowing hair of Shiva in dance]. Baladeva gazed on exhausted, in complete bliss, ecstatic to see the Lord stand there in front of him. He bowed asking for the Lord's blessings as he raised the lamp light up to Him. He has now closed the divine channel, the Lord has descended, the stone is alive with life and the fire is his divine light to see and imbibe the presence of the Lord, flawless and beautiful in front of him.
Pure worship with discipline and devotion renders a man to perform amazing feats, when the mind is not distracted and is full of love and devotion. Its such an unthinkable feat these days...
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Baladeva is a sculptor of the Chalukyan dynasty who specialized in making Shaivite Dwarapalas. His signature is found at the feet of these idols and his dwarapalas often come with a 3rd eye indicating his inclination more towards the Shiva faith. Baladeva is one of the rare names recorded in inscriptions representing ancient indian guilds of the Chalukyan era.
Picture is of Nataraja, belongs to the Madurai Meenakshi temple and is not of Chalukyan origin historically.
The tiny drop of water fall from the heavens as the grey clouds cover the land. The lush green trees shimmer as the smell of wet earth awakens the soil. The rain comes down in a rhythmic pattern such that the sound adds to the rhythm in my being. I step out into the courtyard of this now silent temple to discover new emotion, new love, new bhakti in the form of the Lord who resides deep within the sanctum.
There is silence except for the beating raindrops on the wet rocky and the ghunguru on my feet. I face him, decorated in flowers and silks, seated on his throne surrounded by fiery lamp lights. I look up to Nandi, who within my imagination picks up the mridangam and starts to play. I slowly move, swirl and express my feeling, my devotion to the Lord within.
It is a conversation, delightful and profound, as I emote through my eyes and melt in my heart offering every known emotion up to him in abhinaya. There is sound that surrounds me, there is water that bathes me, there is wind that envelops me, there is earth that holds me steady, there is fire that enlightens me and there is space that gives me the freedom to move around it. The body arches, the fingers emote and my internal self wakes up to the divine sounds of deep meditation and complete bhakti that has been expressed by Patanjali for whom the great Lord Nataraja has performed.
In this emotional water fall, my heart beats hard, asking the Lord to come and dance with me. Such graceful moves, as we rest our hands on our hips, move around and raise it to the sky. Express the deep emotion that lingers within, in controlled meditation as it surfaces to the front and blossoms into an expressive art form that is divine dance, that is divine movement, divine experience as my body awakens to divine breath that fills my soul and bathes me in these pure waters from heaven.
The music echoes in my soul, the beat brings my self to drift away into this magical world where I am a form, a divine form made up of the most profound elements and I am the fortress in matter that houses the various devas within me at my energy centers. Its at this moment of heightened experience of bliss that the my perceptive world changes and the temples appears like an imaginary land in paradise.
Time has stopped, there is no world, there is no noise, there is no people, there is no chaos. There is the sun that lights up this floor and shimmers in the water drops making the whole ambiance appear rich and jeweled. There is the rain that gently tickles my being as the water drops slowly roll down my fingers. There is the wet earth that now lies cool and soft, as I stand on it and stamp it at regular intervals. There is the tiny lamps that light the fire in my heart, melting my being to just collapse in his arms in eternal bliss of divine love and overwhelming awe. And there are the divine gandharvas who play the mystical sounds of heaven, so profound and sweet, so pure and unique that it makes my heart jump with childish excitement over this overwhelming experience. And there is he, in his brilliance with his matted hair swirling around him, as he constantly gets bathed by the ever flowing Ganges who resides in his locks. There is he who has sharp and clear eyes, yet warm and loving and full of divine enlightenment that i can barely move away from. And there is he, with the jeweled snake move around him in grace. There is he, fragrant and all empowering enveloping the whole universe around him as he dances ash clad wrapped in tiger skin with divinely handsome charm that could dissolve a woman's being into itself. There is he, who makes all time stop and takes me into that void where my senses fail, my being fades, my body lets go and my consciousness witnesses is all powerful self, so gentle and yet so kind, so compassionate and yet so energetic.
To all the forms of his, to all the directions that he protects, to the elements that sustain me, to the great devas who reside within me, to the enigmatic yet charming world of the celestials, to the divine and mystical world of the sages, to this pantheon of invisible yet enchanting beings of superior intellect and charm, I bow in misery of being just a human.
Based on the divine Natya of Bharata, which expounds on the various postures, gestures and expression of dance, this is a feeble attempt to meditate upon oneself as one performs the 108 Karnas that have been meticulously carved and documented on the temple walls of Chidambaram, Thiruvannamalai and Tanjavur for our understanding. This is an attempt to deeply understand the movement of the body, the state of the self emotionally and in discipline as one performs this art form in an imaginary world, which I cant perceive and yet I believe truly exists and has been documented in our scriptures. I have attempted to present to you within the limitations of language and yet with creative imagination, the feeling of supreme bliss that we can attain if we try hard enough with every breath.
The world that Shiva Nataraja paints to us is very different from what we get to see around us daily. It requries some amount of imagination or divya dristi to view this realm and for that it requires emotion and belief that that world exists to start with. :)
Reading about the dance of Nataraja and the Pancha sthalas where he has given great performances to supreme beings like Vishnu, Narada, Adhisesha, Agastya, Vyagabhadra and Patanjali to name a few one begins to wonder what kind of a realm that would have been! They make great references to the Ratna Sabha, Chitra sabha, Rajata Sabha, Tamra Sabha and the Kanaka Sabha where the great Lord is known to have performed the Tandava either to please his audience or to overpower Kali.
There seems to be no immediate connect between gold, silver, ruby, copper and earth (murals) to the great dance except that the location of this event now hosts a great hall boasting of such grandeur in metal or earth. Thinking about the form of expression in dance and its relation to the grand hall that hosts the performance, the Lord is adorned in these temples in various poses of Tandava. The location now houses an idol of the Lord himself in this climactic form frozen in Gold, silver, copper or painted on to the murals that fade away into the background to blind pilgrims.
But lets stop for a second and imagine this very same location without the Hall that was built by great and rich kings who patronized these temples transforming them such that what remains in the lesser mortals mind is not the form of the Tandava being performed but the metal in which it has been made!
Situation: Shiva Kalyanasundareshwarar
During the marriage of Shiva and Parvati, Lord Vishnu himself descends to view this great event. All the great intellects, siddhars, rishis and celestial beings are here to view this wedlock. The beauty of the divine couple turns everyone breathless with excitement and reverence as the great Lord ties the knot with his beloved. The ambiance is charged for it is Lord Vishnu who gives Parvati in hand to Lord Shiva who accepts her has his wedded wife. With the conch shells blowing and the drums beating, the universe echos just one note, the primordial sound of creation. The intensity is high and the great souls themselves have been driven to excitement and high emotion. The sheer brilliance of the moment, the shimmering lights, the shining glow on the faces of these great beings makes this an exalted experience that one cannot forget, for it is not driven by time but its driven by high blissful emotion that renders any great soul who is a part of this pantheon a complete slave to this supreme blissful state.
And then Lord Shiva dances... for all those assembled in this great hall of charm and brilliance shining strong like a million suns glowing together, a small mortal version of which we see on earth today. Imagine the extravaganza, I cant explain it... the riches, the enigma, the mysticism on each face, the clarity in their eyes, the glowing skin and the frangrance of flowers as it falls to the great floor where the Lord performs... the dance begins, not with the theatrical performance we have reduced it to but with reverberation all around as Nandikeshwar beats the mridangam and Lord Shiva's shalangai take the beat on. The music is in the drums, the feeling of natya is in his vigor, the victory of Nataraja is in the primordial sound of the damaru as he dances on shaking it vigorously, his eyes twinkling, the ganges flowing over, the snake trooping on with a gem studded hood. The air is in motion, there is silence for its not just this hall but all of nature, all of the universe that witnessed this grand performance of life, of dance, of vigor, of movement, of grace and of enlightenment. This feeling of bliss where all divine imagination takes over mere worldly troubles and the form of Shiva Tandava Nataraja echoes in Abhaya is known as the Ananda Tandava.
Situation: Urdhva Tandava in the forest by night In the darkness of the night, the crescent moon lights up the dance floor where two graceful performers come together to perform one of the greatest dances ever. There is silence around, like a lull before the storm and not even the whispering wind can be heard. Its a challenge, of life and of grace, of form and of art, of performance and of intensity. 2 forces bring together the most powerful form of art, performing art, dance and the ode of expression of subtle intensity.
This is a dance of vigor, of energy and of power that can shatter everything around and yet there is synergy, there is music, there is rhythm and there is bliss. In a time when few are awake to witness, in a place where few dare to go, in a moment where few await the elixir in the rays of the crescent moon...there is a dance of motion and vigor and beat to experience.
What an amazing picture it paints to see two forms dance and move around, with the moonlight glowing in their matted locks, which flow across cutting through the air as they challenge each other to the next step. Powerful eyes that meet, chemistry rolls forth and sure steps guide these two forms to move in harmony, sparking wilderness between themselves. The night is on fire, the spirit world is awake and witnessing this brilliant performance, and the night sky luminates the dance floor. This is expression in the art of Bharata, expression in the art of yoga that transforms the dancer into a supreme being, into Shiva and Kali. Such motion and vigor brings the earth to tremor, brings the universe to unrest as the Lord dances on engulfing all into himself.
What remains now of this experience is the presence of 5 halls that leave the intrigued pilgrim wondering about the mysticism that once ruled these lands as they look up to a frozen Nataraja at the South end of the temple.
The aura: An imposing form that towers over the landscape which appears to stay still and aloof even as my car speeds ahead to make it to the great shrine at its foothill. The feeling of excitement rises as one sets eyes on the hill, its sheer presence brings alive happiness, bliss, love for life, love for the Lord. The sun dances on, casting its light on the mountain through the spots in the clouds that bring this mystical world of charm and secrecy to the wandering devotee. What a picture it creates to just view the enormity of this hill as the car speeds on into this little land of divinity.
The temple: Walking on the rocky floor of the temple, there is peace reigning supreme. The people have not yet started to come and the sun has not burnt the rock floor. The sound of the wind echoes as it plays through the carved pillars and walls of this ancient temple that houses the very form of Lord Arunachala. Gopurams rise imposingly into space, bringing to earth a divine ship of mystery that is shrouded by time. One step after the other makes oneself breathless as the great stone walls lead the way into the sanctum. Walking past the main entrance, the imposing Gopuram displays a magical world of dance, of song, of movement, of motion as 108 dancing sculptures dance down into my vision. The great lord of Bharata presents in silence for those who wish to see the 108 Karnas of Bharatnatya. Within the inner courtyard stand idols, larger than imagination, graceful in attire representing the iconography of Lord Shiva.
The courtyard presents a feeling of peace within these ancient rocky walls. On one end is the sacred tank with water to purify oneself, on the other leads the passage into the main sanctum, around is the chill in the pure air that sings and ahead is the imposing peak of Arunachala, towering, magestic, overwhelming, silent. An enchanting thought crosses my mind to wonder, was this the same hill that was firey and ablaze in the Krita Yuga, that shined brighter than the sun as a golden peak in the Treta Yuga, that held its purity in shimmering copper in the Dwapara yuga and now stands jewelled with a beaded string of rocky bolders in the Kali Yuga! Be it the temple, or the greenery, or the tank or the drifting clouds, my eyes stayed locked on the very form of Arunachala.
Lord Arunachala resides deep within the sanctum, in his chamber surrounded by oil lamps, visited by all. He resides at the center of this jewelled crown of fire that flickers around him. His presence envelopes me as I break into tune, singing the little bit of Rudram that springs from my heart. No one moves, no one pushes, the air is still and all that I can feel and see is this opportunity that allows me to recite the Rudram to the lord, loud and clear that it kills any other noise that dare storm this sacred interior. Few moments of bliss and my heart dances around as I walk past these walls. On the South side Lord Nataraja dances on, such grace and beauty that it makes a difference to a thirsting devotee who would have just loved to immerse herself in the divine vision of his natya performance. To be even apasmara is a blessing, to feel the Lord's feet on oneself is a blessing and to be granted his favor to give a performance and enjoy that grace is pure liberation.
The magic of the hill: The cool air sings, the trees sway and the wind blows gently bringing with it the song of the birds and the pleasant smell of the herbs around. The rocky path leads on into the thin forest that has recently been fed by waters from the heavens. Its green and fulfilling with tiny creatures starting out on another busy day, scarcely aware that they live in paradise. In this quiet, on this earth live plenty of greater beings, invisible yet present, flying around the great hill worshiping the Lord in his entirety. Higher intellects swing by floating through the air as they do Pradakshina around this great hill. The bright light of the sun merges with the light of these celestial beings who grace this earth with their presence increasing the purity of this land and the people who visit it. Its strange that while the feet stay on this hill and while we lesser devotees be a part of its self, the mind lingers into clean thought, the mind is quiet, the mind is at peace with itself and no harmful ideas spring up. The purity of the hill, the clarity in the air, the divinity within this earth wipes out all the dirt from the mind, for a little while as long as the feet stay in touch with its divine soil. What a magical world of divinity and how subtle this truth that while i am there, I think clean!
The silence in Skandashram: The mind is quiet, the room is dimly lit with the sunlight that penetrates through the narrow windows open to the world outside. The garden is in full bloom, the trees are in song with birds awakening us to this world where nature is an integral part of our lives. I sit here in silence imbibing this peace, this pleasing world for I know it wont last long. The eyes close to listen to the wind, to the birds, to the stream of water and probably to the rhythm of the rudram that continues to ring within my head. There is rhytm in this universe, there is rhythm in these strange sounds of nature and there is silent music to listen to only when the mind stops to rest. And when that happens, the great lord performs, the dance of grace, vigorously moving to present to us a firey wall of flames that burns us to ash, sacred ash, to nothing merging us to his very being.
To the great Lord Arunachaleshwara, I bow in all humility, still clinging to his blissful world of frangrance, magic, rhythm and dance. Courtesy: Arunachala Blog
Fear not! The hand stays still promising peace and tranquility in ones life when the Bhakta submits to the great Lord.
Fear not! For this is when the Bhakta surrenders.
Fear not! It is the single thought that echoes in the mind when one stares up to the Lord in humility.
Fear not! Rings the thunderous sounds of creation as the damaru vibrates in the static air
Fear not! Burns the fire of destruction as it eats into my being and destroys my ego, my past, my karma
Fear not! Stands the beautiful snake upright with a jewelled forehead graceful and alert
Fear not! Is the feeling of freedom and bliss when I hear the sound of mantras echo within the temple walls
Fear not! Is the feeling of awakening mysticism as I watch the great Lord raise his feet in Tandava
Fear not! Are the words heard as my heart melts in his being and I look on to savor the beauty of his being
Fear not! Is the joy in my heart as I stand back and wonder about this magical world of grace that is so subtle, so alive, so secretive, so true
Fear not! Is the feeling of tranquility that descends on me even during the times when I am very troubled
Fear not! The grace in that mudra is the source of courage to want to face life no matter how tough it gets
Fear not! Is the detachment I feel from all my myseries, no matter how deep and intense they are
Fear not! Is the only solution to my earthly problems
Fear not! Is pure love that I feel towards the Lord hoping that he will release me from this bondage
Fear not! Triggers the feeling of envy as I stare up and look at that form of Apasmara that is blessed to have the Lord dance on his back
Fear not! Is the aura of divinity I see on the Lord's face as he blesses me in silence
The form of Nataraja, the vigor in his body, the grace in his being and the bliss that he grants us to observe him dance can be an unforgetable experience when we realize the value of this performance. He has danced to the pleasure of his devotees in 4 sabhas across south india. He danced for them to see with rapture, the life that erupts from within. He has danced to bring home a point, that which we in mundane terms call the dance of bliss and destruciton but we have no idea of its intensity.
What is this dance, what is this vigor, what is this grace and what is this energy that defines in silent language the very power of opening the 3rd eye, the charm of the Ganges, the stance of gajasura shiva? This leaves me dancing within my heart to have just felt his presence around me as he stands there in bronze within the shrine chamber decked in flowers!
I look up to him and wonder, even apasmara purusha felt his dance, felt the force and has the blessing of the Lord forever standing on his back. Yet my heart aches and I struggle to get this divine glimpse of the Lord.
Lost in the surrounding din my little mind tried hard to keep the internal silence intact. Words, sounds and all the wasted energy continued to pierce through the walls of my defenses to cut into this silent world I called my own. Moving from event to event, across people of various backgrounds I happened to make interesting conversation with a couple of them.
These people were regular folk who had found their happiness in the little things they did. Yet they caught the essence of Shiva when they described him in what they had read in poetry, in dance, in abhinaya,in music... Listening to them and observing them was a totally overwhelming experience...Why? Their description captured Lord Shiva and my emotions jumped more with every word and action that expressed itself.
In their expression I looked on, to hear the primordial sound echo across the floor as they recited a few verses. In their action I could hear the damaru play aloud echoing the sound of OM, bringing its all encompassing presence into my mind and soul. In their actions lived Shiva in his divine movements as they depicted the deer, the gajasamhara, the taming of the snake, the opening of the third eye, the grand nataraja, the fire bowl of enlightenment furiously burning on, and abhaya, that single message of Fear not.
He was there, present in their thoughts, in their movements, in their actions and in the life that twinkled in their eyes as they described him. This is bhakti, shivahood and the presence of Shiva makes the heart melt when they look into the middle of thin air and shake the imaginary damaru, through the art of Bharata or make the sound through the verses of Manikyavachakar... There is Shiva coming alive in front of him.
It is beautiful to see his character appearing as they paint him through their abhinaya, as they bring forth the awakening third eye, sway around to show the flying jata mukuta, moving in grace to show the beauty of gangadhara shiva, showing the swift aggression in tying the tiger skin around his waist. Isnt this just the beauty of lord Shiva that makes tears well up in my eyes. At this moment, all the world stops, its the perfect getaway from the din.
This is probably a step closer to the experience of feeling Shiva consciousness, when the heart skips a beat and the tears roll out and bliss engulfs us and we identify Shiva in the movements of an unassuming soul who just danced a few steps around to describe him or just recited a few verses as they explain the same bliss that they felt.
Jatatavee gala jjala pravaha pavitha sthale| Gale avalabhya lambithaam bhujanga thunga malikaam|| Dama ddama dama ddama ninnadava damarvayam| Chakara chanda thandavam thanothu na shiva shivam||
From the forest of his matted lock, water flows and wets his neck, On which hangs the greatest of snake like a garland, And his drum incessantly plays damat, damat, damat, damat, And Shiva is engaged in the very vigorous manly dance, To bless and shower, prosperity on all of us.
The celestial river agitatedly moving through his matted hair, Which makes his head shine with those soft waves, And his forehead shining like a brilliant fire-daga daga, And the crescent of moon which is an ornament to his head, Makes my mind love him each and every second.
Shiva echoes all around us, Shiva purifies the thoughts in our minds, Shiva brings us peace and an unnatural blissful excitement that can reduce all other miseries in our lives to nothing. This is the state of constant equilibruim that I hope to achieve some day as life passes me by. This is probably the slow but sure way to the highest realm of Satya Loka. Courtesy: Shiva Thandava Stotram By Ravana Translated by P. R. Ramachander
In this chaotic world
