Let's Relax Now - No Warning Bells!

Most Gracious ILites,

Now let us relax a bit with a poem of Bharathi. It is not just relaxation, in the sense we relax in the bed, but relaxation, as it happens in deep meditation. Yes, this poem is to be meditated upon. That is why the great poet Bharathi gave the title "Yoga Siddhi" to this collection of poems. I am selecting two pieces from that collection, the two which I love the most.

This is a clarion call for meditation and relaxation. Do join me, ladies so that we are prepared for the next heavy topic in the coming week-end.
Varalotti

1 தேடிச் சோறு நிதந்தின்று-பல சின்னஞ்சிறு கதைகள் பேசி-மனம்
வாடித் துன்பமிக உழன்று-பிறர் வாடப் பலசெயல்கள் செய்து- நரை
கூடிக் கிழப்பருவம் எய்தி - கொடுங் கூற்றுக் கிரையெனப்பின் மாயும்- பல
வேடிக்கை மனிதரைப் போலே-நான் வீழ்வேனென்று நினைத்தாயோ

1 The Fate of Many A Funny Man

Scouting ever for their daily food,
Spending their lives in wasteful small talks,
Hurt, stung and injured, but never ceasing
To hurt others by their actions
And in the end, greying and getting old
Falling prey to the relentless march of death
Is the fate of many a funny man!
Do you think I will also follow suit? NO

2 தோளை வலிவுடையதாக்கி உடற்சோர்வு பிணிபலவும் போக்கி- அரி
வாளைக்கொண்டு பிளந்தாலும் கட்டு மாறா உடலுறுதி தந்து-சுடர்
நாளைக் கண்டதோர் மலர் போல் நண்ணித் திகழும் முகம் தந்து - மத
வேளை வெல்லும் முறை கூறித் தவ மேன்மை கொடுத்தருளல் வேண்டும்

2 My Prayer To Thee

Make my shoulders strong
And make me free of sickness and exhaustion
Make my body so firm that
A sharp sword cannot tear it asunder
And my face as bright
As the flower when it sees the morning Sun
Teach me to win over my temper
And bless me with the fruits of penance!

 

A Supplementary Post To The Leader!

பல சின்னஞ்சிறு கதைகள் பேசி..
These words which appear in Bharatiyar's poem have always disturbed me deeply and to a great extent moulded my character. The trouble with Bharatiyar is that he uses the simplest of words to convey the profoundest of the meanings. More often than not we miss them.

When I read this poem for the first time (I was in college at that time) these words did not impress me much. But the poem percolated to the roots of my being and I would have recited this poem some 10000 times in my life so far.
Only much later in life did I understand the import of the words above. It refers to the time wasted in small talk, to put it plainly. By small talk I dont mean sweet nothings. That is different.

You wish to relate to a person and have a conversation with him. So you start by mouthing something about the weather, about the movie you saw recently or the spiralling prices or anything under the sun. . They are sweet nothings. Sweet nothings are sweet nothings only when you do that for a few minutes. You cannot talk sweet nothings (in the meaning I conveyed in my thread of the same name) for one and a half hours at a stretch. Then that becomes wasteful small talk. வெட்டி அரட்டை. That small talk drains our energy and makes us incapable of doing anything significant in our lives.
I know a person with whom I apprenticed for CA. He can talk to you for 4 hours at a stretch. At the end you will never be able to say what did he talk. Nor will it be humorous so that you atleast have the satisfaction of having had a few good laughs.
That is small talk.

At the other end is gossip. That is evil straightaway. But small talk is not evil. It does not mean that a person indulging in it is bad. It is just sheer waste of time.

All these ideas got formed in my mind when God gave me a powerful demonstration about their validity. Thus He acid-etched these lessons in the deepest portions of my heart.

Once I had been to listen to the famous religious speaker, Krishna Premi. Yes, he is the father-in-law of Mrs. Visaka Hari, CA, ICWA and an unmatched Harikatha exponent.
The speech was organised in an old building in the outskirts of Madurai. Just about a kilometre away from Alagarkoil. He has an establishment there where he visits once a year.

The discourse was to start at 4 30. PM But we were there at 4. A friend of mine who saw me took me in to the 'green room' to see Krishnapremi. I will never forget that scene till I live.
We were about 50 people gathered around him. He was seated in an ordinary wooden chair. We were all standing. There was perfect silence. He was not sleeping. Nor was he talking. His eyes showed that he was extremely alert. But did not even utter a word. Some VVIPs were there in our midst. He did not mind them at all.
It was an admirable silence especially on his part, which we joyously imitated. But I raised a question in my mind. When people have come to see him why is he not greeting them. Why is he not conversing with them, at least making some formal enquiries like, How is family and all. Is it not some kind of discourtesy? Or is there a higher meaning in it?

One thing I have learnt in my life beyond doubt is that once you raise a question strongly in your mind and you do not have any selfish interest in the answer to the question, the entire Universe conspires to rush the correct answer to you. And so it happened on that day. Ten minutes into the speech he said, "You might have thought that I am arrogant; for when you people gathered around me I did not talk."
Electrified, I sat up.
There was an extraordinary love in his voice. His voice was hugging each of us in the audience when he said,
"What is the use of small talk? What could I have talked to you? I would have asked, how is your wife? How is your husband, or son, or daughter or your cow or dog? What is the use? These small talks when added up consume most of our life's energies. What use is empty talk but to appease our vanity? We have gathered here to think of Krishna, to think of His divine love. All these small talks are hindrances to God's love. "

Bharathi is not just a poet, but a mystic as well. He is a perfectly realised soul. Reciting his poems is equivalent to doing penance.

Bharathi has beautifully captured a spiritually significant idea in just four words.
I wanted you all to appreciate our Bharathi's prowess. Hence this supplementary post.
Varalotti