Monday, March 30, 2009

Rumi’s Love poems.

THROUGH LOVE all that is bitter will sweet
ప్రేమతో చేదంతా తీపి అవుతుంది.

Through Love all that is copper will be gold.
ప్రేమతో రాగి బంగారమవుతుంది.

Through Love all dregs will turn to purest wine
ప్రేమతో మత్తు పదార్థాలన్నీ మంచి సారాయమవుతాయి.

Through Love all pain will turn to medicine.
ప్రేమతే బాధలన్నీ ఔషధాలవుతాయి.

Through Love the dead will all become alive.
ప్రేమతో మృతులంతా జీవంతులవుతారు.

Through Love the king will turn into a slave!
ప్రేమతో రారాజు బానిసవుతాడు.


ONCE a beloved asked her lover:
ప్రేమి, ప్రేమికుని ఒక ప్రశ్న అడిగింది.

"Friend, you have seen many places in the world!
మిత్రమా, నీవు ప్రపంచంలో ఎన్నో ప్రదేశాలను చూచావు గదా

Now - which of all these cities was the best?
మరి వాటన్నింటిలో ఏది ఉత్తమంగా ఉందీ అని

He said: "The city where my sweetheart lives!"
అతనన్నాడూ, నా ప్రియురాలున్న నగరమే అని.


FROM MYSELF I am copper,
నా అంతకు నేనుగా రాగిని మాత్రమే

,through You, friend, I am gold.
నీవుంటే మిత్రమా, నేను బంగారాన్ని.

From myself I'm a stone, but
నా అంతకు నేనుగా నేనొక రాతిని, కానీ

through You I am a gem!
నీతో ఉంటే రత్నాన్ని.



O SUN, fill our house once more with light!
సూర్యుడా, మాయింటిని మరో సారి వెలుగుతో ముంచెత్తు,

Make happy all your friends and blind your foes!
మితృలందరికి సంతోషాన్ని పంచు, శతృవుల కళ్లను పోగొట్టు,

Rise from behind the hill, transform the stones
కొండ వెనకనుండి ఉదయించు, బండలను మార్చి

To rubies and the sour grapes to wine!
మంచి కెంపులుగా, పుల్లని ద్రాక్షలను మంచి మద్యంగా చెయ్యి.

O Sun, make our vineyard fresh again,
సూర్యుడా మా ద్రాక్షతోటను మళ్లీ తాజా చెయ్యి.

And fill the steppes with houris and green cloaks!
మైదానాల మీద మంచి గడ్డిని పరిపించు.

Physician of the lovers, heaven's lamp!
ప్రేమ వైద్యలారా, అదుగో స్వర్గదీపం

Rescue the lovers! Help the suffering!
ప్రేమికులను కాపాడండి, బాధితులకు బాసటనివ్వండి.

Show but your face - the world is filled with light!
ఒక్కసారి మీ ముఖం చూపిస్తే, ప్రపంచమంతా వెలుగు నిండుతుంది.

But if you cover it, it's the darkest night!
ఆ ముఖాన్నే గనుక కప్పుకుంటే, అంతా రాత్రి అవుతుంది.

Life of Rumi
The term Sufi, is known to many but, few know the philosophy to its depth. When you read the above poems, you get a feeling that the poet is infatuated with a dame. Mind you the poems are written by Maulana Jalaluddin Rumi, the greatest Sufi ever lived. The love is only towards the God and not towards any mortal being. Such is the devotion in Sufi style. I remember Sri Balantrapu Rajani Kanta Rao, doyen of literature and music saying that Meera Bai was the best Sufi from India. Similarly the love and love poems of Andal can be classified as belonging to this style of love.

Here are a few words about the life and times of Rumi.

The name Mowlana Jalaluddin Rumi stands for Love and ecstatic flight into the infinite. Rumi is one of the great spiritual masters and poetical geniuses of mankind and was the founder of the Mawlawi Sufi order, a leading mystical brotherhood of Islam.

Rumi was born in Wakhsh (Tajikistan) under the administration of Balkh in 30 September 1207 to a family of learned theologians. Escaping the Mongol invasion and destruction, Rumi and his family traveled extensively in the Muslim lands, performed pilgrimage to Mecca and finally settled in Konya, Anatolia, then part of Seljuk Empire. When his father Bahaduddin Valad passed away, Rumi succeeded his father in 1231 as professor in religious sciences. Rumi 24 years old was an already accomplished scholar in religious and positive sciences.
He was introduced into the mystical path by a wandering dervish, Shamsuddin of Tabriz. His love and his bereavement for the death of Shams found their expression in a surge of music, dance and lyric poems, `Divani Shamsi Tabrizi'. Rumi is the author of six volume didactic epic work, the `Masnawi', called as the 'Koran in Persian' by Jami, and discourses, `Fihi ma Fihi', written to introduce his disciples into metaphysics.
If there is any general idea underlying Rumi's poetry, it is the absolute love of God. His influence on thought, literature and all forms of aesthetic expression in the world of Islam cannot be overrated.

Mevlana Jalaluddin Rumi died on December 17, 1273. Men of five faiths followed his bier. That night was named Sebul Arus (Night of Union). Ever since, the Mawlawi dervishes have kept that date as a festival.

Saturday, March 28, 2009

An Old Story

THE TIGER, THE BRAHMÂN, AND THE JACKAL


Once upon a time a tiger was caught in a trap. He tried in vain to
get out through the bars, and rolled and bit with rage and grief when
he failed.

By chance a poor Brâhman came by. 'Let me out of this cage, O pious
one!' cried the tiger.

'Nay, my friend,' replied the Brâhman mildly, 'you would probably eat
me if I did.'

'Not at all!' swore the tiger with many oaths; 'on the contrary, I
should be for ever grateful, and serve you as a slave!'

Now when the tiger sobbed and sighed and wept and swore, the pious
Brâhman's heart softened, and at last he consented to open the door of
the cage. Out popped the tiger, and, seizing the poor man, cried,
'What a fool you are! What is to prevent my eating you now, for after
being cooped up so long I am just terribly hungry!'

In vain the Brâhman pleaded for his life; the most he could gain was a
promise to abide by the decision of the first three things he chose to
question as to the justice of the tiger's action.

So the Brâhman first asked a _pîpal_ tree what it thought of the
matter, but the _pîpal_ tree replied coldly, 'What have you to
complain about? Don't I give shade and shelter to every one who
passes by, and don't they in return tear down my blanches to feed
their cattle? Don't whimper--be a man!'

Then the Brâhman, sad at heart, went farther afield till he saw a
buffalo turning a well-wheel; but he fared no better from it, for it
answered, 'You are a fool to expect gratitude! Look at me! While I
gave milk they fed me on cotton-seed and oil-cake, but now I am dry
they yoke me here, and give me refuse as fodder!'

The Brâhman, still more sad, asked the road to give him its opinion.

'My dear sir,' said the road, 'how foolish you are to expect anything
else! Here am I, useful to everybody, yet all, rich and poor, great
and small, trample on me as they go past, giving me nothing but the
ashes of their pipes and the husks of their grain!'

On this the Brâhman turned back sorrowfully, and on the way he met a
jackal, who called out, 'Why, what's the matter, Mr. Brâhman? You
look as miserable as a fish out of water!'

Then the Brâhman told him all that had occurred. 'How very
confusing!' said the jackal, when the recital was ended; 'would you
mind telling me over again? for everything seems so mixed up!'

The Brâhman told it all over again, but the jackal shook his head in a
distracted sort of way, and still could not understand.

'It's very odd,' said he sadly, 'but it all seems to go in at one ear
and out at the other! I will go to the place where it all happened,
and then perhaps I shall be able to give a judgment.'

So they returned to the cage, by which the tiger was waiting for the
Brâhman, and sharpening his teeth and claws.

'You've been away a long time!' growled the savage beast, 'but now let
us begin our dinner.'

'_Our_ dinner!' thought the wretched Brâhman, as his knees
knocked together with fright; 'what a remarkably delicate way of
putting it!'

'Give me five minutes, my lord!' he pleaded, 'in order that I may
explain matters to the jackal here, who is somewhat slow in his wits.'

The tiger consented, and the Brâhman began the whole story over again,
not missing a single detail, and spinning as long a yarn as possible.

'Oh, my poor brain! oh, my poor brain!' cried the jackal, wringing his
paws. 'Let me see! how did it all begin? You were in the cage, and
the tiger came walking by----'

'Pooh!' interrupted the tiger,' what a fool you are! _I_ was in
the cage.'

'Of course!' cried the jackal, pretending to tremble with fright;
'yes! I was in the cage--no, I wasn't--dear! dear! where are my
wits? Let me see--the tiger was in the Brâhman, and the cage came
walking by---no, that's not it either! Well, don't mind me, but begin
your dinner, for I shall never understand!'

'Yes, you shall!' returned the tiger, in a rage at the jackal's
stupidity; 'I'll _make_ you understand! Look here--I am the
tiger---'

'Yes, my lord!'

'And that is the Brâhman---'

'Yes, my lord!'

'And that is the cage---'

'Yes, my lord!'

'And I was in the cage--do you understand?'

'Yes--no--Please, my lord---'

'Well?' cried the tiger, impatiently.

'Please, my lord!--how did you get in?'

'How!--why, in the usual way, of course!'

'Oh dear me!--my head is beginning to whirl again! Please don't be
angry, my lord, but what is the usual way?'

At this the tiger lost patience, and, jumping into the cage, cried,
'This way! Now do you understand how it was?'

'Perfectly!' grinned the jackal, as he dexterously shut the door; 'and
if you will permit me to say so, I think matters will remain as they
were!'

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Blow hot, blow cold

That is the problem with thinking too much. You are happy this moment. You are unhappy the next moment. Do you really know what makes you happy? Perhaps not. Otherwise why get upset for simple things?

There are many people who live without thinking. I must have mused about this topic all through the life. The other day I was teaching change to some really naïve people who would not even understand why they have to change. The company somehow thought their staff requires training on change before they sit through the other part of the functional kind of trainings. It fell on me to talk to these people about the need for change. Change in your attitude. I remember the joke told by a friend of mine who talks real sense. It looks the English people were really skeptics at a particular point of time. During those days looks like an English man said “Oh God! If there is a God, save my soul, if there is a soul!” My situation was something like this in that so called class. I was tackling the eighth batch of this lot. They are really unassuming people. Not the least intelligent. They do not know why they are doing what they are doing. They are doing it because there is nothing better to do. I was trying to tell them about thinking. My struggle was to tell them, the way to new activity. If you keep doing the same old things, you keep getting the same old results. This is exactly what I wanted to tell. You have to think. If the thinking leads to some new ideas, your action will also change. If actions are changed, it is likely that there will be new results.

All this is only the background to what happened to them in the course of that class. I somehow happened to insert a picture of the famous sculpture, “The thinking man” in the power point presentation that I used in the class. The thinking man is naked. He is thinking really intensively. I asked off hand, if the people in the class knew anyone who also thinks and is naked. Pat came the reply “Vemana.” This really shocked me. I was thinking that these people do not know much. My god! It was not like that. This Vemana a philosopher poet is really famous in the firmament of Indian thought process.

Rodin’s thinking man is an example of thinking people. Absorbed totally in what they do! Not even aware that you don’t have a proper dress on you. Thinkers are a lot more different from non thinkers. Then who is a thinker and who is not? That is the biggest question. All people do think. That does not come under the thinking that I am trying to discuss here. Do you think about things that no one thought of thinking about? That is where the difference is. If you think about food, shelter and the usual things, you are not a thinker.

I was coming out of an office. I found all the two wheelers parked in the portico, obstructing the path. I was thinking why people do such things. If they think like I do, they will never park the vehicles in the way they did. Unfortunately we expect people to think like what we do. We even get upset about people not understanding what we are telling. If that kind of acceptance is there, there would not be nay trouble in the society at all. Only since people think in their own individual way, things go in all the directions. People get into discussions and arguments when they find themselves at two different sides of the matter. Regarding the argument, it is beautifully said that there are three points under consideration there. Two belong to the two parties and the third is the truth. It is to say that neither of the parties is true.

When you think about yourself, most of the times you are unhappy. If you are happy with yourself, that is the end of the happiness. Days become true copies of yesterdays and the life will become so dull that you will not even know that you are living. Most of us are thinking that we are happy with the earnings you get, happiness you get, because it is all part of the game. Happy are those people who resign to the fate and see an average movie and eat a Dosas and think that that was a celebration. My problem is why I am not like that? I cannot even enjoy the best of the films. Because I tend to think of everything except what the film wants you to think. In such a situation if you think about yourself, you are bound to feel disgusted. I know that all the emotions are energies. We can turn the energy into another direction and make use of it to improve self. Every time you feel bad, it is a chance to think! Every time you feel good, it is time to think too. In fact all the time it is good to think. Think and go mad, instead of going mad just like that!

Wednesday, March 18, 2009

An old parody

This is a poem written by Mahakavi Sri Sri (Srirangam Srinivasa Rao).


సామాన్యుని కామన
Common man’s wish

అనగా అనగా ఆంధ్రదేశమున
అధికారానికి వచ్చారయ్యా
అకస్మాత్తుగా ముగ్గురు రాజులు
ఒకరికి ఊరూలేదు – రెండు పేరూ లేదు
(All of a sudden three people came to power in AP. One has no village the other two lack names!)

ఊరూ పేరూ లేని రాజులూ
పట్టం కట్టే సంకల్పంతో
ఇట్టటు దిక్కులు పరకాయిస్తే
జాగా కానా రాదు – చెప్తే వినాలేదు
(Kings without village and names when looked all sides they could not locate any place, they never heeded others advise.)

కనివిని ఎరుగని కందనవోలు
కాలువ గట్టున డేరా వేసి
సాలు రాబడిని గుణించి చూస్తే
రాబడి సున్నకు సున్నా పోబడి హళ్లికి హళ్లి
(They chose the non descript place called Kurnool and made their camp there. When they looked into their annual accounts, there was neither an income nor any expenditure)

హళ్లికి సున్నకు పెళ్లి చేయ పం
దిళ్లు వేసి పెద్దలను పిలవగా
వచ్చిన మూడు రూపాయిల్లో
ఒక్కటి చెల్లా చెల్లదు – రెండు ఒల్లా ఒల్లవు
When they tried to marry off the two zeros, a gift amount of three rupees was realised. One of the rupees was invalid and the other two were not acceptable.


చెల్లని ఒల్లని రూపాయిలతో
పుల్లలు కంపలు కొని తెప్పించి
ముద్దుగ మూడు మేడలు వేస్తే
ఒకటికి గోడల్లేవు – రెంటికి కప్పుల్లేవు
With the invalid and unacceptable rupees they bought twigs and thorns and built three buildings. One was without walls and the other two lacked roofs.

గోడలు కప్పులు లేని మేడలో
నీడలువారని కొలువు కూటమున
వరుసగ మూడు తక్తులు వేస్తే
ఒకటికి కోళ్లు లేవు – రెంటికి కాళ్లు లేవు.
In the buildings without walls and roofs when they arranged three royal seats for a grand meeting, they lacked feet.

కాళ్లూ కోళ్లూ లేని తక్తుపై
కళ్లూ వళ్లూ కానని ఆనని
ముగ్గురు రాజులు కొలువున్నారు
ఒకరు కదలా కదలరు – ఇద్దరు మెదలా మెదలరు.
On such chairs without feet, three kings without vision are in court, one of them does not move, the others do not even shuffle.
(The English version is only a trial of hint at the content of the Telugu lines. The rhyme and the play of words of Sri Sri can never be translated, at least by me.)


Poets and people who read and appreciate poetry know Sri Sri as a poet nonpareil. Common people know him as someone who wrote some exceptionally good cinema songs. Strange were the ways of people who could be classified as geniuses. You cannot expect what they will do and what they will not do! A firebrand poet who sang for the downtrodden brethren( దళితులార, భ్రష్టులార, బాధాసర్పదష్టులార, ఏడవకండేడవకండి) writing parodies is really interesting. The above poem is a parody on the age old folk song.

Long ago when the state capital was in Kurnool, the poet could see the helplessness of the government and wrote this. Now in the times of the high tech cities and other scams, the poem looks a little interesting in that, there is a lot of money and hence more and more corruption. Way back then, there was no money for the rulers either to do any good work or even to eat for them. Politicians as seen by the poet, were however as useless and selfish as the present day leaders. So, instead of corruption there were other problems. Sycophancy is the common character in politics. In fact the poem has couple of more bits. We shall look for them. I remember, I have a volume of earlier works of Sri Sri, wherein there are Padyams and more parodies. I will look for them and present here in the coming days.

Sunday, March 15, 2009

Vemana verses

తనర నృపతితోడ, దగ దుర్జనునితోడ,
అగ్నితోడ, బరుని యాలితోడ,
హాస్యమాడుటెల్ల నగును ప్రాణాంతము
విశ్వదాభిరామ వినురవేమ.

Tanara nripati tODa daga durjanuni tODa
agnitODa baruniyAlitODa
hAsyamAduTella nagunu prAnAntamu
viswadAbhirAma vinura vEma

తనర = to the satisfaction
నృపతితోడ = with a king
తగ = to suit
దుర్జనునితోడ = with a bad man

అగ్నితోడ = with fire
పరుని యాలితోడ = with the wife of another person

హాస్యమాడుటెల్ల = to make a funny comment or dialogue
అగును = would be
ప్రాణాంతము = life risking or life ending

.విశ్వదాభిరామ వినురవేమ.

To indulge in light talk or playing pranks and silly comments with a king, an unruly person, fire and the wife of another person would lead to a situation where you may even lose your life.
Vemana cautions us to be serious when you are talking to people who are not really in your zone. To jest with all and sundry is suicidal, he means.
It appears this king Taimur the lame used to kill people if he does not like their talk or even a joke. It was only for Mulla Nasruddin to joke with him and be left safe.
A bad person can never differentiate between a light word and a serious word. He will only knows to react in his own way.
Fire is known to burn the fingers of one who offers fuel also.
“sprushto dahati pavakah” says the sloakm.
You touch it and it will burn you!
The lady who is not your wife may perhaps like your joke, but not her husband.
Husbands jealously guard their wives.
Nanduri Ramakrishnamacharya created an episode where Karna exhibits only proximity to Bhanumati, wife of Duryodhana. It is an interesting poetic work. It need not be misunderstood. Karna Goes to Duryodhan’s home. Perhaps without an appointment. The man is not at home. His wife with all the friendly love asks him and proposes a game of chess or something. While playing people tend to become a little easy with manners. Meanwhile Duryodhana arrives. When they try to get up and greet him, the pearl ornament on the waist of Bhanumati gets stuck and breaks. Pearls scatter all over. I really do not remember the events exactly in the order depicted. It is an excellent episode vindicting the thoughts proposed by Vemana in this verse.

Tuesday, March 10, 2009

Flute Mali - A page from the diary

15-02-2000
A page from the diary

This is what I wrote about Flute Mali Sir, way back in 2000.
It was interesting that I had some memorable moments with him.
Many know him as a performer.
I knew him as an individual.
I was really stuck with his childlike demeanor.
He came very close to my heart.
He even accepted to a proposal that I write a book about him.
I was not lucky enough.
He passed away before that could happen.

ఆయనకొక వేణువిచ్చితిమి.
We gave him a flute.
వేదికను ఏర్పాటు చేసితిమి.
Arranged a stage.
అయ్యా, కచ్చేరీ వాయిచమంటిమి.
Sir, please perform, we said.
గాంధీ రుషీ యని జానపద గీతమందుకున్నాడు.
He picked up a folk tune to begin with!
అయ్యా తమరొక గంటపాటు రికార్డింగు కొరకు వాయించవలెనంటిమి.
Sir, you are expected to play an hour for a cassette, he was asked.
చివరికి నోటి తాళముతోబాటు చేతనయిన వాయిద్యములనన్ని పెట్టుకొని, గంటసేపు ఒకే కీర్తన వాయించినాడు.
Keeping as many accompaniments possible including a rhythm artist who says the patterns by voice (Konnakol), he played only one item for an hour.
ఆయన తన సంగీతాన్ని తానెప్పుడూ అనుభవించలేదు.
He never enjoyed his own performance.
అనుభవమంతా విన్నవారిదే.
The enjoyment was for the listeners.
ఆయనెప్పుడును తనను తాను గొప్పవాడనుకొనలేదు.
He never thought of himself as a great man.
విన్నవారికి ఆ గొప్పభావము మిగిలినది.
The listeners experienced it enough.
ఆయన తనకు సంగీతము దెలుసు గనుక ఎన్నడును వాయించలేదు.
He never performed because he knew music.
ఎవరో ఆనందిస్తామంటే వేణువు ముట్టుకున్నాడంతే.
Because someone said they will enjoy, he touched the flue.
నిజానికి నీవు వేణువు ఊదకు బాబూ అని ఎవరో అంటే, కోపగించవలసినది పోయి, ఎంతో ఆనందించితిననును.
When somebody asked him not to play flute, instead of feeling bad, He says he was so happy.
చిన్నపిల్లవాడిలోనుండే స్వచ్ఛత, పువ్వులో కనిపించే నైర్మల్యం, సహజత్వం ఆయనలో మూర్తీభవించినవి.
The purity of a child, the spotlessness and natural grace of a flower were manifest in him.
ఎవరోగాని మన అంతరాలను తాకలేరు.
It is only for a few to touch our heart.
ఆయనొక మహా నగము. నేనొక సామాన్యుడను.
He was a colossus. I am a commoner.
నాతో కరచాలనము జేసి, భుజము చుట్టు చేయివేసి, కబుర్లు చెప్పినాడు.
He shook hands with me, put his hands around my shoulders and talked to me.
నాకాయన సంగీతముతో పనిలేదనిపించినది. ఆ పరిచయము చాలుననిపించినది.
I thought I don’t need his music. I thought that acquaintance is enough for me.
సంగీతకారుడనుకున్న ప్రతి వ్యక్తి తన్నుతాను హిమవన్నగమనుకొనును.
Every musician thinks of himself as high as a mountain.
ఆయన నాముందు సామాన్యడయ్యెను. నన్ను హిమవన్నగము జేసెను.
He became a commoner before me. He made me a mountain.
ఇట్టివారింకొకరుందురా, మాలి గాక?
Would there be another like him, Apart from Mali?
ఆయన తీరే వేరు.
He is different.

There was a photograph of mine with Mali Sir.
I thought I lost it. But, recently I found it!

I had many interactions with Mali sir. They are always cherished memories for me. I cannot believe that I have been a friend of such great people. There were a few great people who called me their friend. It was not about my knowing them! They knew me. Is it not enough to feel happy?

Friday, March 6, 2009

Tuka Mhane: A Transcreation

Saint Tukaram and Abhangs.

The name Tukaram brings to any mind, a picture of man who was more a devotee than an intelligent man. The odd films made about him also failed in bringing the intelligent words that formed the substance of his Abhangs. Like Purandara and other Dasa in Kannada, many scholars in Marathi composed what are called as Abhangs. These are a kind of verses and are amenable to be sung to music. Bhimsen Joshi made them immortal by lending them his voice. These days Carnatic singers like Aruna Sayeeram, OSArun and others are adding them in their concerts. An Abhang has its own charm in telling a beautiful idea in only a few words.
Nmadev. Samarth Ramadasa are the others who composed Abhangs.
I was stuck with the wonderful contents of Tuka’s compositions. Like all classical music is not just devotion, all abhangs are not just about God alone. Read the following as an example.


Tuka mhane: తుకావాణి
आम्हां घरी धन शब्दांचीच रत्नें शब्दांचीच शस्त्रें यत्न करुं
మా యింట్లో ధనమంటే మాటలనే రత్నాలే, నా ప్రయత్నాలకంతా పనిముట్లు మాటలే
शब्द चि आमुच्या जीवांचे जीवन शब्दें वांटूं धन जनलोकां
మాటలే నా జీవనానికి జీవం, ధనంగా నేను లోకానికి పంచేదీ మాటలే
तुका म्हणे पाहा शब्द चि हा देव शब्द चि गौरव पूजा करुं
మాటలే దేవుడు మరి చూడు, అంటాడు తుకా, మాటలతోనే ఆ దేవుని పూజ

Translation (by Dilip Chitre, the renowned Marathi poet):

Words are the only Jewels I possess
Words are the only Clothes that I wear
Words are the only food That sustains my life
Words are the only wealth I distribute among people
Says Tuka Witness the Word He is God
I worship Him With my words

మరొక అనువాదం.

If you open my jewel-box, you will only find words
If you raid my castle, only my words will defend me
All I need to live upon, is the magic of words
All my charity is done through my words
Behold The Word: The Word is my only God
Worship It: it is the beginning, it is the end


శబ్దం అంటే ఏ చప్పుడైనా కావచ్చు. కానీ తుకారాం అంటున్నది మాత్రం అర్థవంతమాన మాటల గురించి. భూషలుగావు మర్త్యులకు భూరిమయాంగద తారహారముల్ అన్న మాట మనమెరిగినదే. అదే మాటను సంత్ తుకారాం అంతే అందంగా చెప్పిన సంగతి అందరికీ తెలియదు. వాగ్భూషణం భూషణం, అంటే మాటలే మంచి నగలు, అలంకారాలూనూ. అందుకే తుకారాం నా దగ్గర ధనమంటూ ఉంటే అది నా మాటలే అంటున్నాడు. శబ్దాలే నా ఆయుధాలన్నాడాయన. మరి అనువాదకులు దిలీప్ చిత్రే గారు దాన్ని వస్త్రాలుగా ఎందుకు చెప్పినట్లు. రెండవ అనువాదంలో మాత్రం నన్ను నేను రక్షించుకునేందుకు నాకున్న ఆయుధాలు మాటలు అన్నారు. నాకు అర్థమయింది మాత్రం తుకా ప్రయత్నాలన్నీ మాటల ఆధారంగా జరుగుతాయని. (నేనూ అంతే. నాకు మాటలు తప్ప మరే పనీరాదు) అంత పుష్కలంగా, బలంగా ఉండే మాటలను ఎంత పంచితే అంత పెరుగుతాయి తప్ప తరగవు. అందుకే తుకా మాటలను పంచానంటాడు.తెలుగువారికి తుకారాం అనగానే సినిమా అందులోని పాటలు గుర్తొస్తాయి. కానీ తుకారాం గొప్ప తాత్వికుడనీ గొప్ప విషయాలు చెప్పినవాడనీ, అందరికీ తెలియదు. సినిమా తీసినవారికి అంతకన్నా తెలిసినట్టు లేదు.

Monday, March 2, 2009

Panuganti's sakshi

Panuganti Lakshmi Narasimharao was a great writer of yester years. His magnum opus Sakshi is said to be a series of talks on the lines of Tattler from English.
The comparison stops only at being a series of lectures. The contents of Sakshi articles or lectures are completely contemporary and very Indian and local for that matter.
The lucidity that is seen in the work whether it is a light hearted talk or a serious comment on social evils is spellbinding. It is no wonder people wonder whether these lectures were really delivered at one point of time. The felicity of writing such style is not possible for all!

The following is an extract from a piece on literary criticism.

నాయనా! శబ్దార్థములొకరి సొమ్మా? ప్రమాదములకు లోనుగానివారెవ్వరు? మీ తాతగారి బ్రహ్మజ్ఞాన సంపన్నులు. ఆయన యోగదృష్టిచే ఆ గ్రంధములు వ్రాసి యుందురని తోచుచున్నది. నీకసందర్భములని తోచిన వానిని సందర్భములనియే వారు ప్రయోగించియుందురు. ఒక కవి గ్రంధము వ్రాయుటకెంతయో శ్రమమొందియుండును. ఎంత బుద్ధియో యందున వినియోగ పరచియుండును. ఎన్నిసారులో దానిని గ్రిందినుండి మీదికి మీదినుండి క్రిందికి బరిశీలించి యుండును. తన శక్తియంతయు దానిపై ధారపోసి యుండును. అట్టి గ్రంధమును దెరిచి యాదృచ్ఛికముగ నీవేదో పత్రమును జూచి హెహే ఇందున దప్పులున్నవని నీవనుట బుద్ధిహీనతకాదా ఇంకొక పత్రము దెరచి అబ్బే ఇందున బాత్రౌచిత్యము భ్రష్టమైనదని తేలికగ నీవు మాటలాడుట పిచ్చికంటె భిన్నమా ఉన్మత్తుడా యుత్తమకవి గ్రంథములను విమర్శించుట కవి తన గ్రంథ రచనయందు బడిన కష్టములలో సహస్రాంశమైన నీవు పడకుండగనే గ్రంథములో దప్పులున్నవని పలుకుటకు నీవెవడవు ఆమూలాగ్రముగనైన గ్రంథమును జదవకుండ యధిక్షేపించుటకు నీకేమి యధికారమున్నది నీమాత్రపు ప్రయోజకుడు గ్రంథకర్త కాడనియే నీయభిప్రాయమా తప్పులని నీవనుకొన్నావే తప్పులని నీకా తెగనీలుగెందులకు తప్పలేవో యొప్పులేవో నీకు నిర్ధారణ పట్టికలను జాగ్రత్త పరచియుంటివా నీకుదెలిసిన వ్యాకరణము క్రిందికి రానివి తప్పులని నిశ్చయింపవలసినదేనా నాకు దెలియని శబ్దమపశబ్దమనియే నీనిశ్చితమా శబ్దజాలమంతయు నీవెరుగుదువు కాబోలునేమి నిఘంటువులో లేనంత మాత్రమున నపశబ్దమని నిరాకరింపవచ్చునా శబ్దస్వరూపముల లెక్కయేమి భావస్వరూపములనే బరిహసించుచున్నావే ఇక్కడనౌచిత్యము లేదనుచున్నావే ఇక్కడ స్వభావము చట్టుబండలైనదలి పలుకుచున్నావే ప్రపంచములోని బాహ్యాంతర ప్రకృతులు నీకు కరతలామతకములు కాబోలునేమి నీ ప్రకృతిని బట్టి యస్వభావమైనదానిపై నడ్డుగీత గీయవలసినదియే నీయాశయమా నీ ప్రకృతిని పరిశీలించుకొని తెలిసికొనలేనివాడవు మూఢా నీవొరుల ప్రకృతిని బరిశీలించి యది స్వభావమని యిది స్వభావమని పలుకుట నీ తరమా పప్పులో గరిటెలాగున నిత్యము నీ సంసారమునందు నీవు తిరుగుచున్నావు గదా నీ యింటిలో నొక ప్రకృతినైన తెలిసికొనగలిగితివా?

This is a passage from the great work Saakshi by Panuganti Lakshmi Narasimharao Pantulu. The name of the article is Grantha Parishkaramu. It means editing or improving a book for publication. A person comes to the narrator, Janghala sastry asking him to review a book written by his grandfather. Janghala Sastry talks about the futility of the attempt.

Through this piece, writer of the work comments about the attitude of the literary criticism and the critics.

It goes thus:
My son! Are the words and their meanings, property of a person? Who is beyond accidents? Your grandfather was highly knowledgeable man. It appears he has written these things with that knowledge. Whatever you now find irrelevant now might have appeared relevant to him at that time. A poet to come up with a work spends a lot of mind and time. He must have reviews it a number of times. Now, you look into it at random and come up with objections according to your own understanding. Do you think your vocabulary is better than the original writer?
He ultimately tells that reviewing books and trying to revise them is an exercise not worth.

Panuganti comments pithily through his writings in this book. Some of the comments may be hilarious. Most of them are thought provoking. There is no doubt about it!