STONEWALLS DO NOT MAKE A PRISON BUT NARROW MIND IS REAL PRISON

when we look at rampant corruption and the consequent callousness of the corrupt , we can reminded how the empires of the past fell in the past. the oroginal meaning of the word 'minister' is servant.Now the servant has become the self-servant. The common people are wondering what has come about in the country. Our people have to become more empowered and question the questionable activities of the netas. Mammon has become the master and other values have taken backseat. It is time we realized that there are more things in the worls than money. Sensitivity is more important than currency. Leaders like Mandela or Aungsan Suchy prove that human spitit is more powerful than a brutal empire.

'ముసాఫరులు'- జాషువా

A man of sacrifice tended the sapling of love
And showered his own blood
A Mahatma abjured his life for freedom
And lived with a loin cloth
A Prince left his kingdom for nonviolence
And walked for ‘biksha’
Another took refuge in lands strange
And pledged for spread of Quran

Their holy souls are burning bright and eternal
In both the worlds
Their enemies entered the womb of death
Disappeared without name and form.

NOVEMBER14, 2010

What can this country do for children?
At least allow them to be born,specially girls.
Allow them to get school education.
Allow them not to turn into orphans
and pocket thieves and sleepers on the platform.
Allow them to be innocent for some more time
To read story books apart from text books
To be hopeful of bright future
To be less mechanical and more humane
To grow naturally into enlightened citizens
But not into another generation of cynical adults.

Learn fron many

The concience of India
Is asleep deeply
The freedom fighters
Awakened us
The self-serving
Sprayed anaesthesia
Let the youth
Use technology
and creativity
To learn from many
Other nations
Not from a few
To forge unity
Based on equality.

THE REFUGE- CHANDRAGUPTA'S VICTORY , "sudhansu" JVKLN SASTRY

CHAPTER 9
The Benefit of Refuge

Chanakya troubled by the insult meted out to him by the Nandas was going alone in a forest like a great serpent trodden on its tail. He was heaving sighs like those of poisonous gases. Trees, anthills, and mounds had been passing by him one after another. But Chankya was blind to all of them. ‘Revenge’ was the word resounding in his heart and the memory of insult had been making him angrier and angrier. A great scholar, well-wisher of the world , a matchless man in Magadha empire like himself had to pass through that sort of rough patch! What about the ommon people? In stead of eating and keeping quiet, the Nandas manhandled him for no reason. They had woken up a sleeping lion. These Nandas would inevitably become moths in the fire of his wrath like the Kauravas perished in Draupadi’s anger in the past. Thus Chanakya had been walking briskly thinking several things.

Suddenly a thorn stuck to Chanakya’s feet who had been walking in a mood of forgetfulness. He became angry, took out the thorn and said. “ oh, thorn! Have I become inferior even to you? Do you stick to my feet? Wait, I’ ll smash you and your arrogance and turn you into ashes.” Having said that, he took the thorn and pressed into ash , mixed with water and drank it in a gulp.
Chandragupta who had been watching this scene got surprised , went t o him and spoke to him, “Swami! Who are you/ where are you going at this time? Your act appears very strange! Would you please enlighten me about you?”

Chanakya looked at him from top to bottom and said. “ Me! I am a Brahmin who has begun the punishing of evil! A black cobra in the act of finishing the enemies! I am called ‘Chanakya’ by scholars, “Kautilya’ by the shrewd, and ‘Vishnugupta’ by the common people.

Chandra got elated on finding that bright figure as Chanakya. He fell on his feet and said, ‘Excuse me , Gurudev! So far I couldn’t recognize you due to ignorqnce. Under the order of Panini, I am going to meet you. I am none other than Maurya Chandragupta banished by the arrogant Nanda kings.”

Chankya looked at Chandra- tall-built, with broad-chest, bright, humble , teacher-send and became elated. He thought that god had sent him to fulfill his pledge. He spoke in a dignified tone, “ okay, prince! You have come at the right time, now I need a royal man like you. You are my disciple! You will become the future emperor of India !the evil nature of the Nandas grew like anything. They lost their popular support and awaiting their destruction. They would turn into ashes in my anger. You’ ll be famous as the firs emperor of India and as protector of the Hindu dharma. The burden is mine and this is Arya Chanakya’s assurance.’ He patted on the back of Chandra and blessed him, new lights appeared in the faces of both the teacher and the disciple.

Chanakya had been walking on the banks of the Ganges along with Maurya Chandragupta. To the heroic fire of Chandra is added the wind of Chanakya’s acumen.

"When will meteor be seen?" by BASAVARAJU

This is not review of a book. When I wanted to publish my “Russian Geetalu’ which translated mainly the poems of Gamzatov and Pushkin of Russia I stumbled upon this anthology. The author belonged to araku of Visakha district. He was born to late Errayyama and Gurumurthi Naidu. He had his school education in Jayapuram in Orissa and college education in Pithapuram Raja college in kakinada. He worked in Royal Air force(1944-47), Insurance Inspector (1948-50), and in postal dept. (1951-84).

A prolific writer. His books which saw the light earlier were : Chatushpadham (1970), Hima vani(1987) .

He was a good friend of poets such as Puripanda, Arudra, Jnanada kavi, Chaganti Somayajulu, Somasundar etc.

Rationalism, humanism and equality were his themes.

His anthology consisted of translations of poems of the famous ones such as Tikhonov, Pasternak, Mayakovsky, Gamzatov and some of his original
poems.

Kudos to Basavaraju who broght Russsian literary riches to Telugu land.

SEARCH FOR TRUTH-- GOPICHAND

At first they tried to understand ‘I’ to grasp the world. The external conditions became secondary. After a while, they stopped thinking about them. The result is rejecting the world in favour of the forests…
Then thinking that this was not the way of the truth, they tried to understand the external world. ‘I’ became secondary and thinking about the external conditions turned primary. As a result, man has become mechanical and a slave to conditions. If both I and external conditions are grasped and balanced , truth can be known.

CHAPTER 8 :GREAT PLEDGE, CHANDRAGUPTA'S VICTORY by 'Sudhansu' JVKLN Sastry

That is the month of Ashada. Mid day. The fiery and invincible Sun. showering the sparks of fire in the sky. The entire nature is getting hotter and hotter under the impact of the scorching Sun.
Under the fierce sun, a great man with brightness akin to the Sun, with forehead broad and looking like a synonym of divine light was walking towards Pataliputra.
In his neck one finds a shining garland of beads of prayer. Lines of ash on his forehead . Pendants swinging from his ears. A sacred thread on his chest. A great book in his right hand. A small pigtail at the back of his head and a red mark in between his eyebrows. His intellect and foresightedness are piercing through his gaze.
That eminent man sat for a while under a banyan tree on the banks of a lake on the outskirts of the city. He wanted to get relief from his tiredness. In the far appears the city of Pataliputra, a feast to his eyes. Many thought waves passed through his heart. His guru’s message at Takshasila has been reverberating in his ears. Alexander had been on his victorious expedition. Indian kings were surrendering to him for disunity or fear or favour or greed. Gradually , the Greeks had been conquering one kingdom after another. He had to stop this invasion and rejuvenate Indian culture on the verge of ruin and disappearance and establish Vaidika dharma. He had to help establish a mighty empire in keeping with his genius and political acumen. Patlaiputra eminently suited the bill. He had to establish Magadha empire as the mighty one. How far the city and the Nanda kinds would help in his endeavour! He promise his teacher that he would do two things- the founding of a great empire and the protection of the Hindu dharma. So far he had neither rest nor peace. Could a lone man endowed with intellect and political acumen do great acts without patronage of a king?

He rose from his ruminations , took his bath in the lake , wore white clothes. He entered the city resounding with drums and tunes.
That was the birth day of Dahnananda. The royal street were decorated. Colourful ribbons of gems had been glittering . Flag were flying on the tops of the building. He reached the heart of the city. Wherever he saw, he came across feasts, merry making, crowds and opulence. For him, hunger added to his tiredness from journey. He slowly went into the royal palace and entered the dining hall fearlessly.

By that time serving in the dining hall had been over. Leaves were arranged in lines. In the middle, there were eight golden leaves and one silver leaf opposite to it. The Brahmin went without hesitation and sat before the silver leaf. The royal kin looked at the form of the stranger and insulted him saying, “ This seat was meant for Vedic scholar and royal Purohit and not for a common Brahmins. Get up and sit in that corner.” The Brahmin sat there as if he didn’t hear anything.

Meanwhile Nandakings, along with royal teacher entered the dining hall. The king got enraged on seeing a stranger sitting before the silver leaf. “Who are you? Where do you come from? Don’t you know that only a genius well-versed in all sastras is eligible to sit there? Commoners like you have no eligibility to sit ther.Get up,” he said rudely. His word hit the Brahmin like arrows . To him who had already been injured by the words of the relatives of the king felt the royal rejection as an insult added to it . he replied loudly, “ Yes. We are eligible to sit here! We’ re also Vedic scholars well-versed in various sastras. This Chanakya, trained in Takshasila university deserved at least this much respect.”

Chanakya’s solemn voice surprised the king and his men. The Nandas became angry and Dhanananda held Chanakya by his pig-tail and dragged him down from his seat. He had him evicted from the dining hall by his servants by force. Chanakya turned angry and said, ‘ Oh. nasty Nanda! Evil kith and kin o f the king! Your sins have ripened. Your arrogance became intolerable and your adharma turned excessive. Your insult of a Brahmin about to take his meal would not go unpaid. You are enemies of the people and the world. Your time has come. What I have been hearing about you proved true. I’ll smash your arrogance and your dynasty as you are unfit for governance. Your forefathers won’t have anyone to make offerings on their death anniversaries. This is my pledge! I ‘ll tie up my pigtail again after fulfilling my great pledge. Till then, it will spew out poison like the serpent of time, this is Chanakyas pledge. No taking it back.”
Chanakya went out in great anger. All the Brahmins who had been sitting there also rose and left the dining hall soiled by an insult to a Brahmin. The Nanda kings remained wordless.

A SMALL BOAT ON A LAKE

Nagarjuna sagar is a small town that opened vistas to a vaster world in which I lived till then. Memories crowd. Meritorious students from all over the state joined here based on entrance test conducted statewide. Here my awareness of world beyond grew and many students very bright studied there and competitive spirit spurred us on to perform better in our studies as well as extracurricular activities. Here were made some lasting friendships. Also common were petty quarrels and hiding away of one another’s note books during exams. Students used to burn midnight oil or do night outs in academic pursuit. They used to go on long walks and read even while walking. Though they were cocooned in their dormitories, their determination to make it big was unmistakable. I certainly feel some of them might have reached great heights in their respective fields.. On a specific day of holy festival we went around the quarters of our teachers and put even our hand marks on the walls of houses of some of our teachers whom we couldn’t find at their home for one or another reason. Life was innocent, exciting, nasty, mean but not brutal. Different specific paths of life took us into different alleys and as it is said the same Sun appeared in different ways to each one of us.

Here I shall mention my Telugu teacher Goli Venkata Ramaiah who made me aware of my interest and proficiency in Telugu. Once he spoke in a meeting in which Mahakavi Sri Sri participated. To attend this meeting, students walked four miles to hill colony. Unfortunately I don’t remember what Sri Sri spoke there , But Sri Venkata Ramaiah, while referring to Tolstoy made an unforgettable remark that
“ Tolstoy is tallstoy but not smallstoy.”. Here also I attended some Ashtavadhanams held where the skill of Avadhani held us spellbound. There was also a commerce teacher who encouraged students in literary activities. There was another English teacher who had been there for a while and who regaled us with his recitation of poems related to the story of Pravara from Manucharitra. Our reached of Civics, Sri Raghavacharyulu was very fluent speaker and used to write articles for newspapers.
Once we visited the Buddhist museum on Nagarjuna konda. The journey on an engine boat was exhilarating. Though the scorching sun above the head teased us ,the maaza cool drinks while boarding the boat cooled us. Various sculpture and shreds of pots in the museum spoke of history and inculcated historical interest. every child should see it at least once to feel the pulse of history coursing through the veins of our country. I visited Sagar again after ten years in connection with an agitation against a nuclear plant supposed to be built there at a cost to environment. Fortunately, this nuclear plant did never come up there to the benefit of people of surrounding villages.

I know this account is only like a small boat on a lake of memory. There were many other things, many stories , many people, many emotions. Now I understand how vast is reality and how small is one’s engagement or memory or understanding of it.

A DOT ON MEMORYMAP

Pedanandipadu is a center to many surrounding villages and enjoyed more reputation by virtue of its bus connection to Guntur. It created history when the people went on Satyagraha earlier than Bardoli Satyagraha. The then collector could do little to stop the movement which petered out slowly due to lack of support from the top leadership of the Congress. It has been well known for cotton and tobacco. I studied eighth and ninth classes here. Here the competition was more in high school. every day we used to walk two miles from my village to this school with a bag of books and lunch box. Every afternoon we took our lunch on the shore of a pond before the high school. on our way back we used to climb tamarind trees for its leaves and fruit. Here the teachers were more trained but less bothered about students in general with a few exceptions. One teacher taught us who knew next to nothing that he didn’t believe in god and he considered The Ramayana and The Mahabharata were excellent books of literature but not objects of worship. Our telugu teacher recited the literature of Srisri, Joshuva and others in a melodious voice and instilled rationalism. My maths teacher was sound but my shortsightedness made me a good copyist of sums solved by him on the board from my neighbor’s slate or notebook and awful student of mathematics. Though I took composite maths as a matter of prestige, algebra had rattled my heart. We often missed our classes and found ourselves swimming in a nearby canal. We play acted during annual day functions, got prizes, listened to famous scholars like Divakarla and Vutukuri Lakshmikantamma etc., at near by college and these waves of literature had moved us deeply and decisively. Emergency came , elocution competitions on twenty point formulae were held . We bagged prizes little knowing that democracy had been taking a beating in the country. Once or twice I did monoaction of the role of Duryodhana in Mayasabha and got a high praise.
The local library enticed us and expanded our mental range. I also used to visit the house of one of my friends whose father used to bring magazines like chandamama, bommarillu and booklets like Gulliver travels. Those were the pleasantest and most profitable afternoons in terms of real education. Two cinema halls- Sitarama theater and Srinivasa theatres came up. The song “Hari om” signaled the beginning of cinema from Sitsrama theatre and we learned lessons in time and stress management too often here. We also watched a few English films which increased our pleasure if not our vocabulary or grammar.
Once I saw a play Balanagamma here along with my uncle and the endless ragas of actors received the cries on “once more” upon which began the second round of the same stanza. The actresses received more ‘aesthetic’ attention and the spectators used to throw rupees as a mark of appreciation on the actors.
In spite of all this, my marks began falling and I was shifted to Brahmanakodur, a village to which my uncle had got transferred.

Kandukuru is a small town that has registered itself on my mind for a long time . Here I had elementary school education. Teaches were kind, severe and abused us on occasion. At times we used to bunk classes and prayed to God to save us from beatings. Tuitions were becoming common. One teacher Narasimha Rao , a stern looking but kind-hearted man gave us tuition in the afternoons. His wife was another kind woman who looked after us well. The relation between the teacher and the taught was more of affection than of commerce. At two in the afternoon we used to have evening session. We learned our alphabets of four schools. We read our textbooks avidly and filled our mind with all kinds of stories. Local library beckoned us and appeased our appetite for excitement and yearning for knowledge.
Politics made inroads into us. our local park was our Jallian walla Bagh. We trembled at the historical memory and imagined piles of corpses in case of shooting . Jai Andhra movement gave a sense of history and a year of leisure. Marches by reserve police were regular. Election violence also claimed its victims.
The temple premises were our play ground in the evenings, Once we heard of the impending visits of two poets-Arudra and Atreya to the town. We imagined them coming to us on horseback as we studied in our text books. At last when they arrived on foot surrounded by many, we felt happy to see them but disappointed as they did not come riding on horses.
The college there excited us through its labs where snakes were kept in bottles, annual competitions for children of college staff were held, prizes given and films were shown for twenty five paise to one and half rupees. For long time I preferred to spend fifty paise for bench ticket on buying of which we had the privilege of sitting on wooden benches, a step away from floor where people and spitting were common. Akkineni and Nandamuri were our main heroes. Nellore kanta Rao was a villain who terrified us. The walks to cinema halls were pleasant though we walked back home rather sleepily and regrettably after the excitement of watching the film was over.
I also remember a con man who pilfered post cards from us promising to write to the directors to give us the roles of child actors after we were enthralled by the film “Balaraju Katha.”
There was another bizarre character called ‘konda bandodu’ who used to come frequently for begging and when given nothing would vomit before the house which refused him food. He was harmless creature except in form which was tall, hefty, black in complexion and half-clad with a sword like thing in his hand. The children were scared to death when this ‘Kidnapper’ appeared before their houses.
We also used to don roles in amateurish enthusiasm and pasted red tooth powder to our faces as make-up, wore card board masks, wielded knives (sticks), climbed treed, jumped from there to emerge as heroes but suffered unspeakable pain in unspeakable parts. Under the direction of one Ramakrishna whom we nicknamed “scientist” we enacted Ali baba and forty thieves and many other movies we watched. There were street fights between children of different streets and the fights were marked by throwing of pebbles to small red bricks as missiles from safe distances and thank god, no one’s head got broken in those petty struggles among foes cum friends.
We heard about IIT when we came to know that the sons of a maths lecturer cracked that exam. Maths was my betenoir. We longed for tube lights and white upma ( upma using rice flour rather than wheat) as we had seen in their house and after eating a little upma I used to exhort my mother to save it for tomorrow which used to make her laugh and laugh.. Mt eldest sister once teased me saying that I had been a foundling from a park and laughed a lot on seeing my consternation. This had been so effective on my mind that i imagined myself as Swetaketu, the second son of a Rishi who was rescued from being sacrificed by Viswamitra in a story. Monkeys ruled the streets those days scaring us a lot.
To our small feet at that time those streets seemed too long and this was reversed when we visited the same place after many years throughout which our nostalgia remained intact.
Here also we had enjoyed the affection of one Bibi, a muslim woman who we did not forget. We also heard a rumour about corpse in the sky being carried by four men and followed by a woman and we were so deluded that we felt we had seen it. we avoided sleeping on the dabha and I didn’t know why adults did nothing to scotch this rumour.
We also heard and read about left extremist violence by the educated and were soothed by our the elders’ assurance that it would never touch us since we were not at all rich.
I also should write more about our father who was a thinker and writer. He brought us epics in prose brought out by Emesco and illustrated books that developed a taste for literature. This helped me score better than almost all my class mates in Telugu till my graduation. I came to read his Sulochana, Chandragupta Vijayam, Birbal stories. His sudden demise due to heart attack left a permanent void in our hearts and certainly influenced our psychological profiles to an extent or other. His legacy remained in the form of books in a wooden box for a long time and even occasional theft could not deprive us of that legacy. I still have his complete works of Shakespeare and some of his own works nearly four decades after his death. His writing table was donated to our servant maid recently after I could cure myself out of sentimentalism of decades. His colleagues and students revered him and his memory. He used to don the role of Timmarusu in Bhuvana Vijayam enacted by lecturers of his college. After his death we moved to a house in the street nearby where scorpions fell from walls when they were scratched and once a scorpion bit my mother who had been grateful for it spared us and thus anticipated the poem “ scorpion in the night” by Nisim Ezekiel. The small town called Kandukur has certainly carved a niche for itself in our unconscious and haunted me in my dreams for a long time like Ankalama temple where the portrait of Kali putting his feet on who appeared like Shiva (?) shocked and terrified viewers, particularly children a great deal.

MOTHER COW- GOPI CHAND

…I have come into the shed of our new owner. Our conditions turned topsy-turvy.
Our new owner used to take us to each and every house , milk us and sell it. In the beginning, he used to allow my child drink my milk. Later on , he stopped it. Once my child had been left for drinking milk, it used to run towards me in hunger. When it neared me, milk used to come for giving. but who would allow my child to drink my milk?
Our owner used to take away my child forcibly and tie it to a yoke. While it used to struggle unable to drink my milk, I felt my life was ebbing out. I couldn’t understand why I had been born, giving milk or even surviving. I ever thought that earning money by selling my milk by my owner had been wrong. But what about my child? Does it not have right to live? Does it not have fortune to taste the milk of its mother? What kind of mother am I who couldn’t look after its child?

My child became weak without milk or food before my very eyes. I myself couldn’t recognize it. One day my calf didn’t come with me . I thought about the reason. It was injustice to separate a mother from her child. For four days I couldn’t find my child. I felt disgusted and stopped giving milk. My owner beat me to the pulp. Still, I didn’t want to give my milk and defied him not caring for my life. The next day, our owner brought a calf to me and I was happy that my child came back to me though I had suffered a lot. I was tied and my child brought to me to drink my milk. I felt elated but what is this touch? When it touched my nipples ,I realized the secret that it had been a calf made of hay. He thought that I couldn’t find it out. What atrocity? Is there a mother who won’t realize the touch of its child? My body burned . My child could not live on my milk. I didn’t deserve to keep my child alive through my life-giving milk . Let me die like this in this emaciated state. Why care if I lived or died? Why should I bother about the world? (from We too have Soliloquies)

A THREAD IN WEB OF MEMORY

Kommuru is our Cambridge university of art as children. Its ancient name was Sringapuri. It gave birth to my seen grand parents, unseen grand grand parents and our fertile imagination amidst stagnant pool of time. First time I saw what a chenu(field) was while traveling in a bus to Kommuru and until then I imagined rice would come out of plants just like that.From Bapatla we had to take a rickety bus on a risky road of ups and downs. The habit of patience that stood us in good stead had been born there. There we missed tube lights and udipi hotels of kandukur but not sodas @five piase, nujeedis or coconuts brought home from temple every day. Kuchipudi dances, Ushaparinayam and other plays which began at ten in the night and lasted till morning. Stalwarts like Vedantam Satyanarayana and troupes from nearby villages felt it an honour to perform there during utsavams in temple. Of course we waited for the beginning of the play, tampered with musical instruments when some players were too tired but slept soundly either on the stage or on the floor to wake up in the morning with our heads soaked with snow if not art. The temple was built by Chola Kings , the Linga was founded by Agstya and the mantap before the temple had been built by the legendary minister Timmarusu or his son.

World impinged upon us even though globalization had not been dreamt of. The credit goes to those times prior to the TV or computer. Sunil Gavaskar , Viswanadh, Solkar, Chandra Sekhar, Bedi or Prasanna had fans in that remote place. Radio came handy and commentary in fluent English a feast to our ears. We used to beg and bring wooden bats from a local carpenter and used some stones or lean sticks as wickets to play as it can be found even today in many places in our country. As we grew up, the influence of small village on our minds had receded as flood waters which came annually and brought things like live snakes into our houses. The only problem during that time was going to toilette in the morning but that is most probably an insoluble problem for that village even today. It stands by the roadside but more or less unchanged along with barns, cotton mills, convent like schools and schools like cow sheds, a panchayat office where one or two newspapers served as pastime for adults and children or adolescents who had little or nothing to do except eating idlies and taking tea in a nearby Khata ( account) hotel and chatting until twelve o clock in the afternoon. Time management was not needed as we had nothing to do or nowhere to go except our respective houses to take our lunch waiting for us to see us through our languid evenings or occasional games. We missed our opportunities of life when we missed seeing that coveted newspaper that contained our rosy future in its pages in the form of ads. The famine of information was the order of the day and time slowly moved till it catapulted us into wider world that challenged us unceasingly since then.

“GOOD MORNING”,
(KARUNASRI )

This is morning serene
This is morning beautiful
After rain is gone
Arrived good morning.

These are sun rays
Awakeners of folks
Reddest buds of
Union of heaven and earth.

On the ramparts of forts
On the palaces great
Falling in slant
The rays of rising sun.

To the spikes of temples
Crags of hills
Decorating in multi-colours
Spreading gold in courtyards.

The rays of the Sun
Nature’s adornments.

Raining day and night
Clouds pouring their hearts out
To the west of the sky
Are laying tents tantalizing .

Wind boys pampered
Crawling coolly
Coming from far
Touching us tenderly.

Glittering Udayasri’s
Cheeks delicate
Radiating the entire earth
Flowers beautiful and bright.

Sprouted top to bottom
Leaves of ‘Simula’ tree
Shining red
Like tongues of flames of sighs
Tossing their heads minus fears.

Still in my hearts of hearts
Always in the same manner-
The bright tongue of flame
Shining like light anew.

No light, no blossom
No tune, no affection
Mere existence joyous
Said “Ahamasmi”
Burning in pride.

Even small birds also
Coming out of nests
Spreading their wings
Poking with their beaks.

Birds in crowds
In shire in twilight
Filling the edges of wings
With water golden.

Then me !
My heart too
Turned into a strange bird
Yearning to soar high and high.


Like sweet smell
Radiating entire nature
After first year
Out of the earth’s womb,

Like light spreading
beyond aura of light
Floating in the lukewarm stream
Of the green of the meadows,

The rain water along with flowers vakula
From the ends of leaves
Are falling in drops
On the earth.

There the Sun god !
Look-
Reflecting
In cesspool on the street royal-
Driving dark clouds far-
Spreading rays in villages and cities
In the world entire-
After the first year
Arrivals of joy.
Now you can come
Into the street royal
And raise your head
Without fear.

There line of clouds
In clothes wet-
Here muddy waters
Flowing like flood.


The solar orb
Reflects in
Every blade of grass
Each and every cell
Philosophy of “Ahamasmi”
Awaiting
Bliss.

(From UDAYASRI, Part 4)

A DOT ON MEMORY MAP -- RAVINDRANATH

Guntur is a nearby town larger and more attractive than either Bapatla or Ch pet. We used to yearn to see this town as children. Here the memory of our small grandfather, brother of our real grand father is vivid. He was a famous poet of Telugu with a pseudonym ‘Karunasri’. His personality, speech and poetry were quite mesmerizing. I used to spend a part of my summer in his house. There I read back issues of Chandamama of nearly two decades. These magazines were bound nicely . The serials enchanted us and transported into a new world. The poet used to think and write in the dead of the night when every one else was asleep. He was of very kind and amiable temperament. The mango trees in his beautiful house were additional attraction. The dabha was superb. The buildings linedup neatly on both sides of the street and provided great shade and relief from the scorching sun during the summer. His presence enriched our perception of things and his soft nature was soothing to our childish minds. Once he spoke of how Chalam regretted and criticized the eating of grass by the cow and we didn’t know then that he was referring to Musings of Chalam. He showed the utmost understanding and silence when he later sensed my anger against the system. On my part, I read his poetry in parts but his stories for children in full. I read Shakespeare’s stories and stories from our epics and even the story of Jesus in his sweet language and behaved that he could be approached any time when I needed him . I didn’t realize my inexcusable folly till I learnt about his sudden demise when I was in M phil in Hyderabad. The latent seeds of my future interest in literature had been sown in the compassionate ambience of his home and physical presence. His poems such as Dhanurbhangam, Paki pilla, Buddha Daya, Kunti Kumari were prescribed at school level and gave a taste of literature to students of my generation. Decades rolled on but memories remain. Once when he visited our village, all my classmates came to my house to see him and I enjoyed the vicarious glory long afterwards. Once he was felicitated in my native village, he was so excited and so elated that it was very much visible on his face. Kolla Venkaiah, a veteran leftist also spoke on that occasion. Though I was a bit surprised , I understood it as a sign of cordiality between those two who had been dedicated to literature and politics for the people respectively.

Chapter 7: "Sweet Friendship" CHANDARGUPTA'S VICTORY by SUDHANSU

Helena! Helena!”
Helena didn’t respond.
“Helena dear! What are you obsessed with?”
Helena had hardly gave any reply.
Salukis, the Greek commander-in-chief touched on the back of Helena who had ben immersed in studying books in her study.
‘Look! I’ve brought a guest into our house.”
Salukis pointed out Chandragupta to Helena.
Helena rose at once. She was surprised to see the handsome and brave young man standing before her. He , in turn, looked at the most beautiful girl before her with affection. Helena was al cordiality. Their hearts mingled and bloomed at first sight!
“Prince! She’s my only daughter Helena who constitutes my entire family and friends” Salukis introduced his daughter to the prince.
“Helena! This is the prince of Magadha! He would be here as my student and your friend for some time. You have to take responsibility for his comfortable stay here.” the commander-in- chief told his daughter.
Helena gave her salutes to Chandra with a smiling face and impressed by her manners he reciprocated.
‘ See prince! Helena has boundless affection for your India, its culture and traditions. You books alone are her friends here !”, the commander-in-chief explained his daughter’s temperament.
Helena intervened with pretended anger. “ Do you continue your introductory lecture like this? Let our guest take his rest.”
“The heart of my mother is butter but her words are rather harsh” said salukis laughingly.”
Chandra replied with a smile, “Yes! She’s a child.”

“Yes! Mine is childishness1 but you’re an old man!” spoke Helena rather fiercely and went inside.
Both the men laughed loudly.
***
The friendship of Helena and Chandragupta had grown day by day. Familiarity led to closeness. She followed him as his prop and shadow in dining and their outings. Gradually their mutual affection became stronger. Salukis was too bus in performing his duties. Chandra , during his leisure time introduced the great works of India n culture and literature to Helena. The latter revealed the intricacies of the Greek culture to him. Both had become well versed in both philosophies. In a short span of time, their friendship bloomed into love.

Chandragupta learned the art of the Greek warfare from Salukis.at his behest, he moved freely in the army tents and grasped their military methods. He also understood their military strategies, making of different weapons and their skill in using them. He became masterful in the warfare of Indian as well as the Greek. His long standing desire had come true.

***
Now he felt it easier to visit Magadha and Chanakya as advised by Panini. He also had to win over other kings to get back his kingdom. But his heart became heavy with the possibility of separation from Helena. The inevitable disturbed him deeply but his sense of duty remained firm. Meanwhile Alexander was ready to beat a retreat in the face of opposition from his soldiers longing to go back to their homeland. Helena had also been profoundly sad at unavoidable parting. Salukis asked why she had been so unhappy.
Helena, with tearful eyes said, “Nothing father! I’m feeling sorry to leave this country and this beautiful nature.”
The commander-in-chief failed to read her heart. “ How delicate are you! Have you developed so much affection for this counter in such a short span? God willing, we might comeback to this country again! Now get up and make arrangements for our departure.”
Chandra understood correctly and he looked at Helena who turned her tearful face.
Chandra heaved a sigh, toughened his heart and rose to go. He expressed his gratitude to Salukis who wished him all the best in his future endeavour and left for Greece along with his daughter. Chandra took the road to Magadha to visit Chanakya and to write a new chapter in the history of India.

గజానికొక గాంధారి కొడుకు

అందరిముందు అబలకు అవమానం

సెల్ కాజేసిందని

'మానవుల' క్రూర క్రీడ

చుట్టూ చోద్యం చూసే జనం

గుండెలు ఎడారి

చట్టం, న్యాయం ఇంకిన ఒయసిస్ .

***

నారి నికేతన్లో
మతిలేని అతివపై అత్యాచారం

కడుపోస్తే

కానియమన్నారు గర్భస్రావం

ప్రకృతే కాపాడునంది కోర్ట్ సుప్రేం

ఎప్పుడు కీచకులకు గర్వభంగం?

"VICTORIOUS DIPAVALI"-- KARUNASRI

Today Vamana overcame and sent
Bali into the abyss !
Today Rama routed Ravana and
met Bharata with Sita!
Today Satyabhama stood by Krishna to
end the evil Narakasura !
Today Vikramarka vanquished his foes
and began era in his name!

Today Mahavira attained Siddhi
To spread nonviolence at corners all
Look! came the festival of Dipavali
Flooded the folks by the golden glow
***
Moved the new bridegroom in poise and
aptness in mother-in-law’s house
Tweaked the elder sister the cheek of the young
for teasing her brother-in-law
Ready for making of milky rice the
tender pumpkin grown on the hut
Threw the brother-in-law the cracker at
sister-in-law to giggle at her terror

Shone the lamps like drops of tears of joy
Of the peasants and workers
The most novel stream of curious joy
bloomed in each house on the street.

మినీ కవితలు

భీమవరంలో
మంచాన పడ్డ
స్వాతంత్ర్య సమర యోధుడు
బాతు కున్న ప్రేమ
లేదు భారతప్రభుతకి .
***
చెరువులపై మట్టి
గురువులపై లాఠి
తరువులపై గొడ్డలి
తరుణులపై ఆసిడ్
అనుయుద్ధం
అవనికే అనర్ధం
***
అంగారకునిపై
అడుగిడాలని
అపోలో వీరుల కోరిక
అమెరికాకు విజయం
ప్రచ్చన్న యుద్ధ ఫలితం
గ్లోబల్ వార్మింగ్
అవనికే వార్నింగ్

చిరు కవితలు

బోడి గాడి తోట స్మశానం
బుడతలకు క్రికెట్ మైదానం
గుడిసెల్లో పుట్టి పెరిగి
పుర్రెల వికెట్లతో
ఎముకలబాట్లతో ఆడుతారు
సచిన్ తెన్డుల్కర్లా
సృజనాత్మకంగా.
***
ముంగాల్లు లేని ఆవుదూడ
కుప్పి గంతులువేయలేదు
నిలబడలేదు
తల్లి పాలు తాగలేదు
రైతు కన్నుల్లో వేదన
టెక్నాలజీ చేసేనా ఏమైనా ?

"THE WILL OF GOD', CHANDRAGUPTA'S VICTORY by SUDHANSU

Full moonlight. The entire world is shining beautifully in the flood of the silvery moonlight. The forest trees have been moving to the mild winds and birds are radiating happiness through their chirpings. The moon is yearning to set the dark curtain of the clouds aside and brighten the world.

In that darkness, Chandragupta has been traveling in the deep forest. Two Greek soldiers who came from the opposite side challenged him.
“Who are you? what has brought you here?”
“Who are you? What are you upto?” retorted Chandragupta fearlessly.
The soldiers continues in a harsh tone, ‘ don’t you know about us, the soldiers of Alexander, the conqueror of the world? Our king is camping here .Perhaps, you are ignorant of this.”
“In that case, what are you doing here instead of remaining at the tent of your king?”
“Our job is to capture the spies like you“ spoke the soldiers fiercely.
“That’s beyond you!” said Chandragupta in a profound voice.
“Then we’ll arrest you now itself.” The soldiers dismounted their horses and came to capture him.
Chandragupta drew out his sword in a flash of a moment. And roared. “ Stop.One step more . You are finished.” The soldiers backed out.
He then sheathed his sword and asked them, “Now, tell me! What do you want to do after taking me as a prisoner?”
“We’ll present you before the emperor. That’s all.”
“Well! That’s what I want! I’ve come to meet your emperor. Come. I my self will accompany you into his presence.”
The soldiers took him to their lord Alexander . The emperor has been in confabulations with Salukis, his commander-in-chief.
‘’ Lord1 we’ve captured him while in wandering near the camp.”
Pat came the reply. “ No! they haven’t captured me. I have come on my own!“
***
The emperor looked at Chandragupta in amazement. He was impressed by his heroic mood, handsome figure, deep tone and bravery. The Greek commander-in-chief also nodded his head to express his approval.
Alexander asked him, “who are you? Why are you wandering near our camp?”
" I am prince of Magadha and knownas Chandragupta. Now I am a refugee. I’ve come to visit the world famous Greek prince. I believe that your art of warfare would be useful to me in future in establishing Indian empire which has been my goal.”
Chandragupta spoke in a dignified tone.
Alexander recollected the words of Panini Maharshi. He wondered whether this young man would become the emperor of India as envisaged by the Rishi. He remembered the encounter he had with the rishi in a hermitage near Taxasila in the past.
Panini rishi is a man of amazing tapas. He could shake even the conqueror of the world like himself. In the course of his expedition, he reached the western India. One day he had been wandering in a serene hermitage and saw the rishi in meditation .He felt very angry that he had not received due respect from the rishi. So he ordered his soldiers to disturb the rishi in meditation. When the soldiers tried to reach him, Panininopened his eyes and said, Oh, fool! Why are you so arrogant not to realize that your wish to conquer India is futile. Your victorious march would come to a halt in Aryavarta.”
Alexander replied in a frenzy.
“ Stop your verbosity! How dare are you to question our victory? You are a rag-wearing sage. Are you defying the conqueror of the world? You must pay for this insult with your execution”
Alexander took out his sword and raised his hand to cut the head of the rishi but stunned to find his hand still in the air. He felt the feet of the rishi and pleaded for mercy. The rishi relented and released Alexander’s hand from the spell.
Then he asked the rishi in all humbleness. “ Swami! Would my victorious march be checked in India?’
The rishi spoke with eyes closed. “ Yes! India won’t become your subject. You are not fortunate enough to become its emperor.”
“Then, whose lot is it?” asked Alexander curiously.
“You‘ ll come to know about such a fortunate person who would rule India under one umbrella. One day he will be ushered into your presence.”
On that day Alexander took leave of the rishi in agitation amidst hope and despair.
***
Thereafter he pinned his hopes on human effort and advanced with a large army conquering one area after another. At last, he came face to face with Purushottam of Punjab , appreciated his prowess and made an agreement with him. Now he was in a dilemma to continue his expedition or not to. This warrior who has come to meet him might be the man of destiny!”
The noble Alexander had been very much impressed by Chandragupta. “He can’t proceed on the expedition with his soldiers wearied and yearning for homeland. Hence. It is in the fitness of things to help this brave young man in his endeavour.”
He decided to help Chandragupta.

“Well, prince! Your desire and bravery pleased us. You becoming the emperor of India seems to be God’s will. Now we are bent on going homeward giving up our desire to conquer the world. Still, you could learn the art of the Greek warfare with attention and interest from Salukis, the commander-in-chief. It’s a matter of pride for us to satisfy the desire of heroes interested in learning.” Spoke Alexander.

Chandragupta felt elated at the generosity of Alexander. He received honour befitting a prince. He expressed his gratitude to Alexander and followed Salukis, the commander-in –chief of the Greek army.

MARK ON MEMORYSCAPE

Chilakaluripet is a small town which is famous as well as notorious because of its name.. Here I remember seeing a film called Rahasyam in which Akkineni Nageswara Rao was the hero. The village nearby called Rajapet was the village to which my cousins and I used to go every summer to my uncle’s house. One had to cross a small canal to reach this village which looked half-deserted and sunk in the old times. The houses were of mainly built of mud and my relatives’ houses were of brick and cement. The small library there used to attract us. Morning and evening baths in the canal gave us a lot of joy and took care of our time which hung heavily on our hands. Alas! Today’s children are deprived of these summer pleasures which cemented relations among people and nature. The weavers constituted a sizeable section. To this village once came the famous singer Ghantasala to attend the marriage of my uncle’s daughter. On that occasion my brothers and I used to enact monoaction of various characters from the epics and received a lot of praise from the near and dear. Here I read about Indo- Bangladesh war, prisoners of war , the death of our college principal in an accident while on a picnic to the sea at Ramaya patnam. During the summer we used to reach Chilakaluripet on bicycles to see films and the tamarind trees on the way used to send shivers down our spines while coming back from the films during the dead of the night.