Kaivalya

I was just reading through the Chapter 7 of Bhagavad Gita , on Gyana Vigyana Yoga (published by Gita Press, Gorakhpur in Telugu). These are a few notes and observations I made based on my attempts to understand it. In slokas 4 and 5, Lord Krishna describes Arjuna about various natures and attributes of Himself. "My nature is of the eight forms: Earth, Water, Fire, Air, Sky, Mind (manas), Intellect (buddhi), Ego (ahankAra). This eight-formed nature of Mine is called "aparA" or "jadA". Besides this, I have another nature, encompassing and pervading the entire Universe, called "parA" or "chethanA", which is My personification in living form. " Continuing in sloka 6: "O Arjuna! All living beings of the this world, are evolved from these natures of Mine. I am the cause for the birth of this Universe and its annihilation. That is to say, I am the origin and primary cause of the existence of the entire Universe." I found it very inte...

it's a shame i didn't know you earlier it's your name that my heart beats for, can't you hear? i sing to myself, i tell to myself as it were, lost in your thoughts.....lost in your thoughts...... now i see, how it was meant to be now i feel, it's better gotta be real this time goes on like the wily wind carries me into that eternity-- where the stars still shine in the day, where the nights are sure bright by the bay; and i stay alone to myself talking of love to myself, as it were, lost in your thoughts.....lost in your thoughts...... glad that it went so easily there was no room for being sorry; thankfulness, for this kind bliss parting ways without a gentle kiss: it could have been even more worse words would have sounded like a curse. a dream within myself, filled with a memory of myself... as it were, lost in your thoughts.........lost in your thoughts....... lost in your thoughts, i am still alive lost in your thoughts, i have survived lost in your thoughts, i...

Some day the clouds will condense Some day it will definitely rain Some day your heart will surrender Some day you’ll know my pain -Siddartha Pamulaparty (2002)

-Siddartha Pamulaparty Nov 13 2007.

Context: The medieval Telugu poets had this tradition of starting their poetic works with an “indicator poem” in which the author prays to his favorite God and also try to indicate the subject of the book, an ancient kind of “Preface”. They considered having this poem in the beginning is auspicious and the completion of the book will not have any interruptions. So, Pothana in continuation of the tradition, wrote this as the preface for the epic Bhagavatam. He prays to the beloved deity Krishna in this poem. Meaning: “I shall contemplate on attaining the Kaivalya Pada, the ultimate abode free from bondage (Vaikunta). I offer my prayers to the Protector and Harnesser of the World, the Enthusiast of the art of Devotion, the One who controls and mitigates the anger garnered by the evil, the One who with whose playful pastime had caused the creation of many Universes, which He holds in His abdomen and protects like a clay pot that holds the water and keeps it pure, the sweet blessed child ...

This is another poem from the epic of “Gajendramoksham”. When I was a kid, I couldn’t get the emotions behind this poem, but later on when I started thinking on my own, my eyes filled with tears whenever I read or heard this padyam. Of course I admit I am very emotional but I believe this poem will cause everyone a tinge of sorrow in their hearts at the plight of the elephant king and at the same filled with utmost devotion to the Ultimate Liberator, Sri Maha Vishnu. Context: The whole story of Gajendra Moksham is how the Elephant King gets “ moksham ”, the Telugu/Sanskrit word, the closest equivalent in English I can think of is absolute Liberation . The scene starts with the Elephant King leading his herd and moving across the thick forest towards the river for quenching their thirst. It is described very graciously that, as the herd moved, the Elephant King glowed with pride, and all the animals in the jungle get scared, as if the Earth shook during Pralaya, destruction of Universe...

Encouraged by my pal Pradeep's comment, here I go attempting a couple of more translations of Pothana's poems. These poems were being sung to us at our home, my father especially I remember taught us to recite these padyams. Very fortunate of being born in my family, I am, in deed!! From the story of Prahlada in the Bhagavatam, this is yet another beautiful piece of work from Pothana. Context: Hiranyakashipa is a powerful Demon King who is a staunch enemy of Vishnu. His son Prahlada is the quite opposite of him and since his childhood is a great devotee of Vishnu. In this scene, Hiranyakashipa overcome with rage asks Prahlada “Where can I find Hari (Vishnu)?”. This poem is the answer of Prahlada to his father’s inquiry. My Translation: He (Vishnu) is inside the deep abyss, He is in the omnipresent atmosphere, over the sky, in the core of the Earth. He is also present in the fire, He is in days and nights. He is in the embodiments of the life-giving Sun, the pleasing Moon. He i...

I bought a couple of books before I started my journey to US. One of them is Mediocre But Arrogant by Abhijit Bhaduri. I read it completely in a couple of days. The book is about a guy Abbey who joins a B-school and the way his life transforms in the years he spends in the school is the essense of the book. The best thing I liked about it is the style of narration. Everytime I read a work of fiction, I tend to imagine myself in the shoes of one of the central characters. And more so if it is a first person narration. Earlier books like "And now Miguel" by Krumgold, which I read when I was very young cast a deep impression on me and somehow I love the first person narration. Very few books give me a feeling that the author is narrating "my imaginary story" with "me" narrating the story. MBA is one such book and I would have lost count of the number of instances in the story when I actually felt it is me narrating it in the form of Abbey. What all I am sayin...

This is a humble attempt to transliterate an excerpt from the Gyana Siddhantam, a treatise on The Theory of Knowledge, my grandfather Sri Pamulaparthi Sadasiva Rao had written (published by Visalandhra Publications). The Gyana Siddhantam was in turn a translation of Francis M. Cornford's "Plato's Theory of Knowledge: The Theaetetus and The Sophist". I must admit that the following translation is not to compare the literary and philosophical scholarship of either Mr. Cornford or my grandfather but a devout dedication to my beloved grandfather. The principle (theory) of knowledge (Epistemology) should describe the transformation of human thought (intellect). It becomes obvious to scrutinize the human thought process through ages, the fundamental basis of these thoughts and the process of relating (reflecting) these thoughts onto the actual facts. Tatva Philosophy is the specialized branch of epistemology that deals with the thoughts, contemplations and the definition o...

Today, I went to the Hindu Temple of Lake County Illinois, for a little peace of mind. The statue of Rama had attracted me a lot. The smile on His face was amazing. Anyways, I am a great admirer of Pothana of Bammera, who translated the Veda Vyasa's Srimadh Bhagavatam into Telugu. His poetry is endowed with great gift of using the metaphors (alankaras). I do not think any of the Adi Kavi's of Telugu can match the poetic exuberance of Pothana. Here is an interesting note from Pothana's life I heard so many times from various sources. He wrote the whole Bhagavatam with a great devotion. While writing the famous "Gajendramoksham" portion of the God's Story, there was a scene in which the author, Pothana had to describe the interior of Vaikunta, the paradise of Vishnu. Pothana suffered an immense pain, as he could not find the right words to describe the abode of the great Vishnu. In modern times, you could say he faced a writer's block. He could not visualize...

"Walden" was first published in 1854, a 2000 copies print by Ticknor and Fields. It mostly comprises of Thoreau's life in the woods between July 4, 1845 to September 6, 1857. It is considered by some wise men as one of the most influential works in American literature. To me, "Walden" is a paradise of wisdom, an epitome of Truth in the simplest verses. Well, then let us sojourn again into the wilderness. ECONOMY In most books, the I, or first person is omitted; in this it will be retained; that, in respect to egotism, is the main difference. (This shows his characteristic of the importance of self, and the individualistic spirit of being). In the rest of the chapter Thoreau details out the financial account details of all the experiments that failed and that finally succeeded, and of course the wonderful philosophy about life. In front of the Thoreau's cabin replica at the Walden Pond Conservative in concord is an excerpt from this chapter. The below is a p...

It could perhaps fit for this account to be called "On Walden" too, however, since I want to emphasize the joy I derived, when my dream came true, when I visited Walden in the New England spring this year (2007), which had prompted me to call it "At Walden". As people who know me, hopefully do agree that I am usually a modest person, I do admit here that this essay of mine, is not to exercise efforts to evaluate the genius of Thoreau, nor to defend against many accomplished gentlemen and women of great minds who did not accept Thoreau in the first place. It is my humble attempt to offer to my readers, the influence and inspiration of Thoreau in my life, which is of late been of the sorts of "quite desperation", while I struggle to learn what it has to offer. Ever since I first read the account of Henry David Thoreau's life in my High School English Course, I felt fascinated about the Walden Pond and the 19th Century New England. What attracted most is...

I have always shared a warm and loving relationship with my grandmother. In fact, I think she had made me feel special and liked me more than her other grandchildren.Perhaps, this is because I am the only boy among all her grandchildren, in her proximity. She used to stay very often with us in Hyderabad earlier and also in Warangal after we moved there. Although I have many experiences with her during my childhood I would like to put some things I am really fond of. During my 2nd grade and 3rd grades in school, I used to make excuses like stomach-ache or head-ache in order to avoid going to school. And when I succeeded in convincing my mom, I used to stay home along with my granny. After an hour after lunch each day, I used to adjust the clock's pointers so that the time showed 3.00pm which was our tea-time. I used to wake her up and ask her to make tea as it was our tea time. She used to get up and make the tea and later on when she came to know that I was playing with the clock,...

If she's alone, let her know I am waiting For, ever since we had parted, I never slept As I was afraid that I will forget The sweet dreams I saw of her for the last time. My eyes have swelled into oceans of tears The pieces of my broken heart are still beating And every sound made by the blowing wind Reminds me of melodies of her unheard songs. The smile that she had, perhaps was the culprit That transformed myself into a lover I remember still those first words that I wrote And kept writing the same forever and ever. If she's alone and there is no other To shower her with the flowers of love To hold her warmly and shield her from cold To weep and wash the dust from her feet- Let me be the one, first to know Since she shall no more deny the Truth That my admiration is acknowledged That my feelings have a nobler meaning. Not all memories are just as sweet Not all journies with their destinies meet She knows as well as I understand That things too precious can never be held Nor c...

That evening was no ordinary For you were sitting by my side Close to each other, were you and me Yet I was still trying to hide The hunger of a burning fire To open secrets of my little heart At your feet and then with heed start To let it out: this strong desire In the form of words I often spoke; You heard those before in the past You knew that memories wouldn't last If this silence was never broke With a whisper or better a gesture Like exchanging notes with our eyes And understand, what's true, what's lies; "Could we have, of us, taken a picture?" It was you, who asked to my surprise Interrupting my struggle all this while To ask you the same, and then smile For I was sure that I will win my prize. Friends and cameras did their work And trapped us for eternity Or so I thought,I could not see That somethings die just in the dark. The photograph was lost in space There was no chance since we parted ways But I swear, that best were those days When I used to see ...

Not always does my pen go on Not everyday I write But at times, when I'm alone And with myself begin to fight I stray into the oblivion And see an unseen light. I hear strange voices Spoken in unknown tongues I feel the world around me Has transformed overnight. Every object I then sense Inspires me with great delight And thoughts start pouring Deep from within my mind. I then struggle day and night To scribble those ideas bright. (That is pretty much how Some of my poems have born.) -Siddartha Pamulaparty April, 2007.

ignore the roses, for their fate is to wilt how long will the bloom and the fragrance endure? born amidst cruel thorns full of sorrow and guilt grown into cruel petals and profoundly impure; with all false pride and in the mirthless joy they swell in the bounty of their bloody hue and smirk at the gentle lotuses that buoy over the noble ponds of holy waters blue. ignore the roses, for they're no immortal souls losing virginity while climbing up the bowers vain attempt to reach the heavens, what unreal goals !ever so inappropriate, these damned poor flowers! Siddartha Pamulaparty June 20.2007

somebody said she was a schoolboy's dream someone confessed, hell, she's hot like steam some people fought to just stand by her side the idiots they were, could never really hide the passion that this girl had started in their hearts this looks of her were shooting love-stained darts....... she was just a girl and i was her guy untill i kissed her and said goodbye well, if it wasn't for that goddamn night my arms would still be hugging her tight it wasn't me, it was all her fault she should've known it right from the start i loved her deeply from the bottom of my heart she played fun with it, and tore it apart she hid her mind, I thought she's afraid "I love you, lady", it was true what I said she was so gentle and polite alright but hell what she did in the last was not right! o baby! i am so very sorry for your plight there's still time, it's not yet end of the night.

The following is a prose-style poetry I attempted inspired by the style of Rabindranath Tagore. I was not as mature as I am today when I wrote it about 5 years back. The southern winds while on their pilgrimage to the North, touch me delicately, when I am deep in my thoughts. They prompt me to stay awake- lest I miss the event that I eagerly await: the moment of glory, when you- with your gentle stride, cross through the path of my dreams……. Ever since the sun broke into the azure sky early in the day, I have been suffering from the animosities of folks, whom I thought were my kith and kin. The very thought of being with them is now crippling my heart- leaving no ground for me to stand upon. After a day-long struggle to still be alive, here I am, at your feet dieing to live, like an unfortunate sailor full of thirst, who survived a miserable wreckage. I lost all my consciousness and fainted out of distress, with failing efforts to regain my strength. I know not what happened between th...

From Deep Within My Heart, Another Song For You! Though 'tis late, and time's gone, the memories will never die. Days seemed lost in the year gone by Yet I still remember that blissful day When my love was born, the sun was up in the sky And never since went down into the wanting bay; The tender buds transformed into eternal blossoms And by the name of roses forever did stay; When shone upon my basking soul On this morn, yet another bright new ray I woke up in the woods of thoughts To wish my Dream a beautiful birthday! Siddartha Pamulaparty May 26 2007