கருக்கிய ஊர் (கரூர்)

Yesterday’s Karur disaster is not fate. It is the direct outcome of South India’s shameful obsession with film and cricket stars. Ordinary lives are routinely sacrificed at the altar of celebrity, and we treat it as normal. Shame on all of us people!!

From MGR to Jayalalithaa, from NTR to Rajkumar, actors have been elevated to demigods. Their deaths unleashed riots, suicides, and stampedes. When Jayalalithaa was jailed or hospitalised, people mutilated themselves in “devotion.” Rajkumar’s death turned Bengaluru into a battlefield. In Hyderabad this year, a woman was killed and a child injured in the chaos around Allu Arjun’s Pushpa 2 premiere—yet fans still cheered him like a god descending. And when RCB won the IPL, Bengaluru saw riots and lives lost—for a franchise team, not even the nation. These are not moments of pride; they are collective humiliations; of public shame. 

What explains this madness? Fatalism. A people convinced their destiny lies not in their own hands but in the grace of stars who live in palaces, far removed from their pain. Instead of demanding jobs, justice, or accountability, South Indians cry at temples built for actors and riot for cricketers. We glorify servitude and call it devotion.

புறநானூறு says

“அறிவுடையார் எல்லாரும் அஞ்சுவர் விதியெனும்

குற்றம் தரும் கூற்றின் அருள்.”

All the wise tremble before fate’s decree,

For destiny strikes without mercy.

But Karur, Pushpa, RCB—these were not destiny. They were the result of people surrendering reason to spectacle. Until this culture breaks, South India will keep bleeding for its stars—while its real problems rot, and its people keep dying in vain.

As the famous Urdu poet Mirza Ghalib confessed, surrendering to fate’s cruelty:

“हज़ारों ख़्वाहिशें ऐसी कि हर ख़्वाहिश पे दम निकले,

बहुत निकले मेरे अरमान, लेकिन फिर भी कम निकले।”

Thousands of desires, each so intense it could kill me;

So many were fulfilled, yet still, too few.

India Keeps Missing the Boat

I hate these “Mothers’ Day, Fathers Day, Morai Maaman Day, Tourism Day, Ypga Day” etc. in general.  And I got particularly incensed today, after seeing a GoI Ad on Tourism.

Each World Tourism Day, governments roll out grand slogans. “Visit India,” “Incredible India,” “Heritage. Hospitality. Happiness.” But while the rest of the world counts and consolidates tourist dollars, India still stumbles, distracted, slow, and half-hearted. For a country with 43 UNESCO World Heritage Sites, extraordinary geography, religion, history, the sounds, the smells, the colours — the promise is vast. But the delivery? Woeful.

Here is how the numbers lay bare India’s failure to seize the lowest-hanging fruit.

• India brought in about 9.95 million foreign tourist arrivals in 2024.

• Japan had ~37 million overseas visitors in 2024.

• France crossed 100 million international tourist arrivals in 2024. 

• Paris alone is often cited with ~70 million visitors per year (international + domestic) in recent reports. It remains one of the most visited cities globally. 

• USA in 2024: approx 72.4 million international arrivals. 

Foreign tourists don’t just want beautiful monuments — they want ease. Safety. Reliability. Cleanliness. Order. Hospitality. Predictability. 

And India’s deficits are glaring.

• Basic things — clean public toilets, drinking water, waste disposal — are either missing or non-functional at many tourist sites. For example, popular waterfalls near Ranchi: shade structures, benches, toilets are broken, dirty or simply non-existent. 

• Bridges over rivers, pathways, warnings in dangerous zones are poorly maintained; occasionally fatal. I was in Sikkim in Dec. Lovely place. But what should take 1 hour by road on the mountains in any other country, takes upto 6 hours! Frustrating. 

• Overcrowding: transport, local roads, trains, hotels — all stretched. Cities that are in heavy demand have not invested proportionally in capacity or in managing peak flows. Today, you cannot DREAM of taking public transport to almost all places in India, excepting a few, as a foreigner. 

• Foreign tourists report harassment, overcharging, local “mafia” behaviour (unchecked guides, unlicensed operators, rogue transport). These are frequent in reports.

• The problem of women travellers feeling unsafe is real. While precise national aggregated data is spotty, anecdotal and media evidence are consistent enough to affect reputation.

• The visa regime is often cumbersome. Entry‐permits, bureaucratic delays, inner-line permits (for some regions) raise the cost (monetarily & psychologically).

• Big budgets get promised; but many of the promised projects either stall, are mismanaged, or don’t reach the “on-ground” victims: local transport to tourist sites; decent last-mile roads; functional emergency services; public health & sanitation.

• Tourism promotion sometimes seems superficial: glossy ads, influencers, “soft power” campaigns abroad. But with safety complaints, service quality failures, inconsistent rules (across states, localities), many first-time visitors leave with frustration. Word of mouth, once negative, spreads faster than any campaign.

• India has so much content: heritage, wildlife, landscapes, festivals, spiritual tourism, cuisine, beaches, mountain treks. Yet packaging is weak. Local site signage may be unavailable or not multilingual; guides may be untrained; supporting services (high-quality lodging, reliable food, transport) are uneven or wildly overpriced.

• Countries like France and Japan invest heavily in both product and perception. They ensure that historical sites are conserved, well-interpreted, with infrastructure to match tourism volumes. Multilingual signage, tourist maps, safety, clean public transport, and efficient regulation of services.

• Chances are that a foreigner would rather look at the flower shops selling Indian flowers in Singapore or Malaysia than in India! The humble tea-kadai boiler tea has been hijacked by Malaysia and today they are marketing it as their innovation – Teh Tarik!

Tourism is not vanity. It’s jobs, foreign exchange, regional development, conservation, pride, soft power. India’s failure to harvest the potential is economic mis-management, and cultural negligence. Each lost tourist is lost income, lost employment, lost global goodwill.

We have 8,000 years of culture, a kaleidoscope of religions, languages, landscapes, arts, history. We have food that draws people to the moon. Incredible tales, spectacular nature, pilgrimage, wildlife, spiritual solace. And yet draw less than 10m visitors a year, while Paris alone gets 70 million. This is not just suboptimal; it’s shameful.

We haven’t even plucked the lowest-hanging fruit. While others polish their paths, India lets its paths erode. While others ensure safety, predictability, good service, we scramble on crumbling infrastructure and sporadic law enforcement. 

Wake up. Because right now, as World Tourism Day passes, India is content with slogans. But tourists notice. Dollars notice. Historians, culture-keepers, local communities—all suffer if tourism is just talked about, not improved.

We should not just be ashamed of how far behind we are: we should be furious. We have the treasures. Let’s build the tourism framework. NOW. Not just for tourism, but for our dignity, for our  economy and for our culture.

நாரைகள்

சிற்றாறின் கரையில் அடர்ந்த நெற்காடுகள் பசுமையோடு சலசலத்தன . மார்கழி மாதக் காற்றில் வானம் நீலமாய் கண்ணில் ஒளிந்தது. இக்கிராமம் மிகத்தொன்மையாய் இருந்தாலும் சிதைவு அதிகம் இல்லை.

அந்த எல்லைப்புறக் கிராமத்தில் யாருமே பேசாமல் அமைதியாக நடந்தனர். கிழவர்கள் கூட புல்லாங்குழலை வாயிலிருந்து எடுத்து விட்டு கண்களைத் தாழ்த்தி நடந்தனர். குழந்தைகள் கூட பக்கவழி எடுத்து ஓடினார்கள். முகத்தில் பயத்தின் சாயம் மட்டும். படை வீரன் என்றால் அப்படி ஒரு மரியாதை! பரிதி சில காலம் எல்லையைக் காக்க வேறு ஊரில் இருந்து விட்டு இன்றைக்குத்தான் ஊர்த் திரும்புகிறான்.

பரிதியின் மனம் பின் நோக்கிப் போனது.   சிறுவயதில் விளையாடிய மலைக்குப் பின் உள்ள முந்திரிக்காடு சென்றான். ஒரு மரத்தில் ஏறிக் கொண்டிருக்கும் போதே, அவன் மனதில் பழைய சத்தம் கேட்டது –

“அடேய்க் கிராதகா! என் மரத்தில் ஏறுகிறாயா?” என்று ஒருகாலத்தில் கூவி கைத்தடியுடன் விரட்டிய பழைய கிழவன்.

அந்த கிழவன் இன்று இல்லை. அவன் கண்கள் வானத்தில் நிலைத்து, பனித்துளியுடன் ஒளிந்து கொண்டன. 

காலப்போக்கில், கிராமத்தின் மையத்தில் இருந்த பழைய மனை ஒன்று “அமைதிப் படை அலுவலகம்” ஆனது. இன்றிலிருந்து பரிதி தான் அதன் தலைமை அதிகாரி. 

அந்த அலுவலகத்தில் இன்று அவன் முன்  கைகளை கட்டப்பட்டு நின்றவன் – அவனது சிறுவயதுக் கூட்டாளி,  நந்திவர்மன். வந்தும் வராததுமாய் பரிதிக்குச் சோதனை. 

பரிதி அதிர்ச்சியடைந்தான்.  காவலரிடம், “இவனை நான் கூட்டிச் செல்வேன்” என்றான்.

அவர்கள் இருவரும் கிராமத்தை விட்டு நடக்கத் தொடங்கினர். நடந்துக்கொண்டு இருந்த  பரிதி மனதில் மட்டும் பழைய நினைவுகள் வந்தன 

சிறுவயதில் இருவரும் சேர்ந்து ஆற்றுப் படுகையில் மணல் வீடு கட்டியது.  

ஒரு முறை இருவரும் சேர்ந்து அக்கிராமக் கிழவனின் முந்திரியை திருடப் போனார்கள். மரத்தில் ஏறியது பரிதி. கிழவன் கத்த, அவன் சறுக்கி விழுந்தான். அடியில் விழுந்தபோது முட்கள் உடம்பைத் தைத்தன. வலியில் கண்ணீர் வந்தது. அப்போது நந்திவர்மன் தனது கையில் இருந்த முந்திரிகளை அவனுக்குக் கொடுத்தான். வலியைப் பகிர முடியாது. முந்திரியைப் பகிரலாமே!

இன்று அந்த நாள்கள் தொலைவில் போய் விட்டன.

வழி சாய்ந்தது. பசுமை வயல்கள். அந்த நிலங்களில் தான் ஒருகாலத்தில் இருவரும் சேர்ந்து பசுக்களுக்கு தீவனம் வெட்டினார்கள்.

திடீரென்று பரிதி  சத்தமாகக் கேட்டான் –

“சொல் பா, எத்தனை பேரை கொன்றிருக்கிறாய்?”

நந்திவர்மன் சற்றுக் கண்களை உயர்த்திப் பார்த்து விட்டு, மீண்டும் தலைத் தாழ்த்தினான்.

“நீ எத்தனை பேரை கொன்றாய்?” என்று எதிர்பாராமல் நந்திவர்மன் எதிர்க் கேள்வி விட்டான்.

அந்த பார்வையில் கோபம், வலி, விரக்தி அனைத்தும் இருந்தது. பின்னர் அமைதியாகச் சொன்னான்:

“எனக்குத் தெரிந்த ஒரே தொழில் நிலத்தை உழுவது. மழைப் பொய்த்தது. பல வருடமாய். வாச வேறு வழியில்லை. என்னை போறாளித் தலைவனாக்கினார்கள், ஏனென்றால் நான் ஏழை விவசாயி. வாழ வழி இல்லை. இழக்க இனி ஏதும் இல்ல. என் செயல்களுக்காக  மரணம் வந்தால் கூட நான் தயார்.”

சற்று நின்று, மெதுவாகத் தொடர்ந்தான்:

“என் தந்தை அரை ஆண்டாக படுக்கையில். அவரைத் பார்க்க கூட முடியவில்லை.”

பரிதி மனதில் தன் தந்தையின் குரலும் எழுந்தது –

“விவசாயி நிலத்தை விட்டுத் போவது எப்படி சாத்தியம்? நெல்லும், களையும், உழுத நிலமும் எல்லாம் உயிரோடு விட்டுவிட்டு போக யாருக்குத்தான் மனம் வரும்?!”

“திருமணம் ஆகி விட்டதா?” 

“ஆமாம்” என்றான் நந்திவர்மன்.

“யாருடன்?”

“அந்தச் சிறிய சித்திரக் கண்ணம்மா.”

சிரிப்பு தடுக்க முடியவில்லை பரிதிக்கு. ஒருகாலத்தில் இருவரும் அவளை எரிச்சலூட்டிக் கண்ணீர் விடவைத்தார்கள். இப்போது அவனே அவளை மணந்து குழந்தையை எதிர்பார்த்துக் கொண்டிருக்கிறான்.

பாதையை விட்டு விலகும் போது வயலில் வெள்ளையன சோலை பறவைகள் கூட்டமாகக் குதித்து பறந்தன. அவை அன்னங்கள்.

அந்தக் காட்சி இருவருக்கும் பழைய நினைவுகளை எழுப்பியது.

பன்னிரண்டு வயதில் அவர்கள் ஒரு நாரையைச் சிக்கவைத்து கயிற்றால் கட்டினர். தினமும் அதனுடன் விளையாடினர். பிறகு ஒருநாள் யாரோ வேட்டையாடப் போவதாகக் கேட்டதும், இருவரும் ஓடிச் சென்று நாரையின் கயிற்றை அவிழ்த்தனர். பறவை முதலில் நிலத்தில் தடுமாறியது. ஆனால் சிறிது நேரத்தில் பறந்து வானில் மறைந்தது. நீண்ட நேரம் அவர்கள் வானத்தை நோக்கி நின்றிருந்தனர், நாரையின் புத்துயிரைப் பார்த்தபடியே.

இப்போது அந்த வயலில் நாரைகள் பறந்தன.

பரிதி திடீரென்று சொன்னான்:

“இங்கேயே ஒரு நாரை வேட்டை போடலாமா?”

அவன் நந்திவர்மனின் கைகளை அவிழ்த்து, “நீ பறவையை விரட்டிப் போடு. நான் கயிற்றால் பிடிக்கிறேன்” என்றான்.

நந்திவர்மன் குழப்பமடைந்தான்.  மனம் அளைந்தது. 

“இவன் என்னை இங்கேயே கொல்வானோ?” 

"என்ன இருந்தாலும் என் நண்பன், என் மீது கட்டாயம் இரக்கம் காட்டுவான்!"

"இன்று அவனொரு அரசு அதிகாரி. அவன் கடமையைச் செய்தே ஆக வேண்டிய கட்டாயத்தில் அவன் இருக்கிறான்!"

" இப்பொழுதே என் கதையை முடிப்பானோ?"

"எங்கோ போய்ப் பிழைத்துக்கொள். இந்த எல்லைக்குள் இருக்காதே!" 

"மன்னவன் கொற்றம் முக்கியமா. இல்லை, மனிதாபிமானம் தான் முக்கியமா?"

இருவரும் சிரமத்துடன் களையின் நடுவே ஊர்ந்து சென்றனர். திடீரென்று, நாரைகள் சில, பெரிய சிறகுகளை விரித்து நீல வானில் பறந்து சென்றன. அந்த நொடியில், நந்தி வர்மன் கண் முன் அன்று அவனும் பரிதியுமாகச் சேர்ந்து கட்டிய நாரைகளை விடுவித்த காட்சி கண் முன்னே வந்து போனது. "அன்று அந்த அன்னங்களுக்கு  ஆனதுதான் இன்று எனக்கும் ஆகுமோ"?

நீண்ட நேரம் அவர்கள் கண்களிலிருந்து அந்தப் பறவைகள் வெகு நேரம் மறையவில்லை.

तेरा नाम लब पे कहते हुए

 चाँदनी रात में आँसू बहते हुए,

सजनी तेरा नाम लब पे कहते हुए।

साँस रुक-रुक के पुकारे तुझको,

दिल धड़कता रहा, जाँ से रहते हुए।

फूल सूखे हैं मुरझाए बाग़ों में,

तेरे क़दमों की आहट सहते हुए।

तेरे जाने से सन्नाटा बोल उठा,

सुरमई शाम ढली थी ढलते हुए।

"मनन" खो गया है तुझमें ही बेख़ुद,

ज़िन्दगी कट रही है भटकते हुए।

Kaappiyam (காப்பியம்),Kaavyam (काव्य / காவியம்), Puraanam (पुराण / புராணம்), Itihaasam (इतिहास / இதிகாசம்)

You must have heard about Kaappiyam (in Tamil), Kaavyam, Puraanam and Itihaasam — and may have wondered if there is any real differentiation between them, and if so, what exactly those distinctions are.

Well, here is a clear dossier.

1. Kaappiyam (காப்பியம்)

Etymology: Derived from Sanskrit Kāvya (poetic work), adapted in Tamil as Kāppiyam with the sense of an epic poetic narrative.

In Tamil tradition, a Kaappiyam is a long-form narrative poem that weaves together history, culture, philosophy, and aesthetics. It is not mere storytelling: it is a vessel that preserves ethical ideals (aram), worldly meaning (poruḷ), pleasures of life (inbam), and the transcendental pursuit of liberation (veedu/moksha).

Thus, a Kaappiyam functions as both literature and life-guide, serving as a mirror of Tamil philosophical, social, and religious life.

The Five Great Epics of Tamil (ஐம்பெரும் காப்பியங்கள் – Aimperum Kaappiyams)

These works are considered the crown jewels of Tamil epic tradition:

Cilappatikāram (சிலப்பதிகாரம்) – the story of Kannagi and Kovalan, embodying justice and dharma.

Maṇimēkalai (மணிமேகலை) – Kannagi’s daughter, who embraces Buddhism and compassion.

Cīvaka Cintāmaṇi (சீவக சிந்தாமணி) – heroic adventures of Jivakan, influenced by Jain thought.

Valayapathi (வளையாபதி) – now largely lost, but believed to emphasize household dharma.

Kuṇḍalakesi (குண்டலகேசி) – a Buddhist epic centered on renunciation and spiritual search.

Thus,  A Kaappiyam is Tamil epic poetry that preserves civilization’s memory and guides human life through aesthetic narrative.

2. Kaavyam (काव्य / காவியம்)

Etymology: From Sanskrit root kavi = “poet / seer” (from the root ku “to see, to know”) + suffix -ya = “composition.”

→ Kaavya = poetic creation, a work of a poet.

In Sanskrit aesthetics, Kaavya refers to refined poetry — whether a short lyric, drama, or grand epic (mahākāvya).

The hallmark of Kaavyam lies not in subject matter alone but in artistry: rasa (emotional essence), alaṅkāra (ornamentation), and vakrokti (poetic twist).

Where Kaappiyam emphasizes narrative and moral vision, Kaavyam emphasizes aesthetic and emotional experience.

Examples:

Short Kāvyas: Meghadūta of Kālidāsa.

Mahākāvyas: Raghuvaṃśa, Kumārasambhava.

In short: A Kaavyam is poetry as art — a celebration of beauty, rasa, and refined expression.

3. Puraanam (पुराण / புராணம்)

Etymology:

pura + āṇa → “that which belongs to ancient times.” (strict derivation)

pura + nava → “old made new again” — an interpretive explanation used to highlight its role in making ancient wisdom ever-relevant.

A Puraanam is not merely “myth” or “legend” (a Western reduction), but a living mode of transmitting timeless truths. It uses stories of gods, sages, cosmic cycles, and kings to teach dharma, devotion, and cosmology. The genius of the Puraanam lies in its ability to keep old wisdom alive by renewing it (pura+nava) for each generation. In practice, a Purāṇam allows the listener or reader to see themselves in the story and apply its moral-spiritual lessons to present life.

Examples: Bhāgavata Purāṇa, Viṣṇu Purāṇa, Skanda Purāṇa.

Thus, a Puraanam is timeless wisdom retold as narrative, where the ancient is continually renewed to guide the present and the future.

4. Itihaasam (इतिहास / இதிகாசம்)

Etymology: iti-ha-āsa = “Thus indeed it happened.”

Itihaasam refers to epic history that blends real events with moral and spiritual interpretation. Unlike Puraanams, which are cyclical and symbolic, Itihaasams are linear narratives of great events. They function both as national epics and as ethical-spiritual manuals, showing dharma in action through lived human examples.

Examples: Rāmāyaṇa, Mahābhārata.

Thus, an Itihaasam is the recorded story of what happened — a moral compass preserved through epic history.

 So, while the four may seem interchangeable at first glance, each has its own role and essence:

Kaappiyam → Tamil epics, blending narrative with moral and cultural depth.

Kaavyam → Sanskrit poetics, emphasizing rasa, beauty, and aesthetic experience.

Puraanam → Ancient knowledge retold to remain ever fresh and relevant.

Itihaasam → Epic history, “thus it happened,” serving as ethical and spiritual guide.

Together, they show us that Indian literary tradition was never just about telling stories — it was about preserving civilization, transmitting wisdom, and guiding human life through the power of narrative and poetry.

SrI guruNA pAlitO-asmi

 Here is another masterpice from Muthuswamy Dikshithar. Yet another instance of why critics and connoisseurs call many of Dīkṣitar’s kritis “poetically compact, intellectually dense and musically ripe.”

The use of a relatively rare rāga (Padi), precise tala (Rūpakam), a carefully structured sahitya (pallavi → anupallavi → caraṇam) and embedding of nāda-theory into both words and music show a composer who thought across disciplines: theology, phonetics, musicology and poetic prosody — that multidisciplinary mastery is what scholars call genius.

The kriti unites scholarship, poetry and music: dense Sanskrit compounds conveying Vedāntic content are seamlessly fitted into melodic lines that reveal and exploit raga-bhāva. Dīkṣitar does not write devotional slogans; he composes compact philosophical treatises that are singable, musically idiomatic, and ritually potent.

Rāga: Pāḍi (pADi) — an uncommon / relatively rare janya rāga; many sources describe it as a rāga with a distinctive scalar outline and one that Dīkṣitar used effectively. Dīkṣitar’s setting of this kriti in Padi makes the composition sound meditative yet austere. 

Tāḷa: Rūpakam (Rupaka) — a common tala choice for many of Dīkṣitar’s vibhakti-kritis; its 3/2 feel (in many practice conventions) supports stately delivery and allows the composer time for measured gamaka and elaborate phrases

Dīkṣitar is famed for pouring raga-bhāva into compositional lines — in many kritis he encodes the rāga lakṣaṇa within the sahitya itself or opens by outlining the rāga phrases in measured speeds. In this kriti the rāga’s solemn, devotional colors (shaanta rasa) match the guru-theme. 

The use of nāda-terms (nāda-amṛta, nāda-anta) is not only poetic: it signals the centrality of sound as spiritual means — and Dīkṣitar’s melodic choices (slow, veena-like gamakas, emphasis on sustaining notes) sonically embody that idea.

Compact, layered compounds (samāsa): Dīkṣitar uses densely packed Sanskrit compounds — saccidānanda-nātha, ākhila-viśva-vanditena, tāpatrayātīta — which convey theological/philosophical content in very few syllables. Each compound bears multiple registers (devotional, metaphysical, liturgical). 

Scholarly vocabulary married to accessible images: words like vedānta-artha-vedyena (one whose meaning is Vedānta and who is to be known) sit beside vivid, almost visual phrases such as pāda-ambujena (lotus-feet) and nāda-amṛta (the nectar of sound). This mix gives both intellectual weight and devotional lyricism. 

Word-play and internal echoes: Dīkṣitar frequently uses paronomasia and alliteration — e.g., the repeated na and da sounds in nāda-amṛta … nāda-anta-vihāra create sonic cohesion and a sense of nāda (sound) being both theme and material. The sonic texture imitates the meaning (i.e., talk of nāda is itself rendered in flowing sonorities). 

Rhetorical layering — catalogues of attributes: the caraṇam is a catalogue of epithets (Vedāntic knower, healer of vikalpa, nāda-lord, avatāra, remover of bheda). But each epithet is not merely ornamental — it functions like a stanza of a philosophical argument: the guru is simultaneously soteriological (removes suffering), epistemic (reveals Vedānta), and aesthetic (giver of nāda-nectar).

Economy and symmetry: The pallavi/anupallavi set up a declarative couplet (protection by the guru; scriptural & universal authority) and the caraṇam expands via balanced half-lines and recurring suffixes (-ena, -ena), giving rhythmic/metrical symmetry that suits musical setting. Scholars have noted that Dīkṣitar’s completeness of raga bhāva is matched by completeness in sahitya.

Vedāntic core: the song deploys explicit Vedānta vocabulary (saccidānanda, vedānta-artha-vedyena). The guru is presented not just as a ritual teacher but as the living embodiment and revealer of non-dual truth. That moves the kriti beyond bhakti poetry into soteriology and epistemology (how to know). 

Healing of vikalpa (mental construct): when the lyric calls the guru a vikalpa-roga-vaidya (physician of the disease of imagining/mental constructs), it asserts that liberation requires curing the root cognitive distortion — again a Vedāntic claim about ignorance (avidyā) and its remedy. This is philosophy set in short musical phrases. 

Integration of sound and soteriology: the repeated emphasis on nāda (sound) as amṛta and nāda-anta vihāra places the aesthetic medium (music/nāda) as an ontological tool — sound as both vehicle and nectar of liberation. In Dīkṣitar’s worldview (and in certain Tantric/Vidya strands he engaged with), nāda-sādhanā is a path to realization; the kriti enacts that theory musically. 

Universality + Tradition: by invoking scriptural authority (Āgamas), the universality of worship, and contemporary saints (Tyāgarāja), the song situates philosophical claims within an interlocking matrix of scripture, practice, and living lineage — strengthening the philosophical weight.

पल्लविः

श्री गुरुणा पालितोऽस्मि सच्चिदानन्दनाथेन

अनुपल्लविः

आगमादि सन्नुतेन अखिलविश्ववन्दितेन

त्यागराजविभातेना तापत्रयातीतेन

चरम्

वेदान्तार्थवेद्येन विकल्परोगवैद्येन

नादामृतसुपाद्येन नवनाथेनाद्येन

सादाख्यकलाकारैण सदाशिवावतारेण

नादान्तविहारैण नवचक्राधारेण

पादाम्बुजेन परैणा भेदादिविदारेण

आदिगुरु गुहावरैण कादि मतानुसारेण

pallavi 

SrI guruNA pAlitO-asmi sat-cit-Ananda nAthEna 

anupallavi 

Agama-Adi sannutEna akhila viSva vanditEna 

tyAgarAja vibhAtEna tApa traya-atItEna 

caraNam 

vEdAnta-artha vEdyEna vikalpa rOga vaidyEna 

nAda-amRta su-pAdyEna nava nAthEna-AdyEna 

sAdAkhya kalA karENa sadASiva-avatArENa 

nAda-anta vihArENa nava cakra-AdhArENa 

pAda-ambujEna parENa bhEda-Adi vidArENa 

Adi guru guha varENa  kAdi mata-anusArENa

Pallavi — “I am protected by the revered Guru — the Lord who is Truth-Consciousness-Bliss.”

(Here the singer/student declares being under the protection of the guru who is identified with sat-chit-ānanda natha.) 

Anupallavi — “He who is extolled by the Āgamas and other scriptures and worshipped by the whole universe; He who shines as the glory even of Tyāgarāja and who has transcended the threefold miseries.”

(The lines place the guru as scripturally sanctioned, universally venerated, associated with the great saint Tyāgarāja, and as one beyond the three tāpa — worldly miseries.) 

Caraṇam

“One whose meaning is that of Vedānta and is to be known (vedyā) — the physician who cures the disease of mental imagination (vikalpa).”

“One who gives the nectar of nāda (sound) — the elder among the nine Nātas (navanātha) and primal leader.”

“One who, by the art (kalā) of the Sādākhyas and by the avatāra of Sadāśiva, …”

“One who revels in the end of nāda (nāda-anta vihāra) and is the bearer of the new wheel (nava-cakra-ādhāra).”

“Who by the lotus of His feet (pāda-ambuja) dispels distinctions (bheda-ādi vidāra).”

“The primal guru, the cave (guha) lord, revered from the beginning — conforming to the ancient schools (ādi-mata-anusāra).”

(Overall the caraṇam enumerates metaphysical roles — Vedāntic knower, healer of illusory mental afflictions, lāvic/naada-centre, avatāra aspect and guru-principle who dissolves dualities.) 

कोशिश

जो चलते हैं अँधेरों में, सितारे उन्हें राह देते,

मगर जो ठहरते हैं डर से, अँधियारों में मर जाते हैं।

नज़र को चाहिए हिम्मत, सपनों को छूने का जिगर,

जो ठिठकते हैं आधे में, वो इशारों में मर जाते हैं।

जो जोखिम से गुज़रते हैं, वही जीवन को पाते,

जो सिकुड़ते हैं डर से, वो उजालों में मर जाते हैं।

 समंदर में फ़ना होना किस्मत की कहानी है, पर

दुःख तो उनपे होता है जो किनारों में मर जाते हैं।

'मनन' ने सीखा है, सफ़र में गिरना ही जीत है,

जो सँभलते नहीं खुद को, वो सहारों में मर जाते हैं।

हो जाती है

हर प्यार की फ़ितरत में बेवफ़ाई हो जाती है।

कुछ दिन रहते हैं, फिर तन्हाई हो जाती है।

जैसे जैसे वक़्त गुज़रता है शाइराना अंदाज़ में,

चुनौती-ए-वफ़ाई की शनासाई हो जाती है।

लम्हों की महफ़िल में यादों की परछाई हो जाती है,

ख़ुशियों के दरमियाँ भी रुसवाई हो जाती है।

सफ़र-ए-इश्क़ में जो भी चलता है बेख़ौफ़,

उसे हर मोड़ पे इक आज़माई हो जाती है।

दिल की खामोशी भी अक्सर चीख़ सी लगती है,

नज़र से नज़र मिले तो सफ़ाई हो जाती है।

ग़म की किताब में लिखे हैं हज़ारों अफ़साने,

मगर हक़ीक़त में बस सच्चाई हो जाती है।

मनन ये दुनिया यूँ ही धोखा नहीं देती,

हर नक़ाब के पीछे रुसवाई हो जाती है।

Vande Bharat Trains: Promise, Performance, and the Gap in Between

When the first Vande Bharat train was inaugurated with much fanfare in 2019, it was pitched as the dawn of a new era in Indian railways. As of today, there are 60+ Vande Bharat trains criss-crossing the country, proudly showcased as India’s flagship “semi-high speed” passenger service.

I’ll be the first to admit: the Vande Bharat is a great train. It looks modern, feels futuristic, and has undoubtedly raised the bar for passenger comfort compared to the tired ICF coaches of the past. On paper, it represents India’s leap into the next generation of rail travel. But when we cut through the hype, the reality is more complex.

The Positives

Comfort & Design: The ride quality, interiors, and amenities are a big step up from conventional trains. Passengers—especially business travelers—value this.

National Pride: As a Make-in-India project, it shows India can design and manufacture a modern EMU trainset domestically. Symbolically, this is huge.

Operational Efficiency: Quicker acceleration and braking compared to loco-hauled trains save minutes between stops, and dedicated priority on tracks reduces delays.

The Gaps Perhaps Nobody Talks About

Speed vs Reality: Marketed as a semi-high speed train capable of 160 km/h, not a single Vande Bharat actually runs at that speed in service. Most max out at 110–130 km/h—exactly what a conventional LHB rake with a WAP-7 could also do. The marginal time saved is due to priority, not performance.

Cost–Benefit Paradox: Each VB costs nearly ₹100 crore—almost double that of a modern LHB rake (~₹50 crore). Yet the core problem it was meant to solve—substantially reducing travel time—remains unsolved. If time savings are negligible, why pay so much more?

Build Quality Concerns: Compared to Chinese, Japanese, or even European high-speed EMUs, the fit and finish of Vande Bharat coaches leaves room for improvement. Early reports of rattling doors, broken fittings, and poor durability raise questions about quality control.

Public Apathy: A bigger, systemic challenge is our approach to maintenance and cleanliness. Walk into a VB a few months after inauguration, and you’ll often find stained seats, litter, and broken fittings. A world-class product cannot survive without world-class discipline in upkeep.

Infrastructure Lag: The real bottleneck is not the train, but the track. Running reliably at 160 km/h requires better signalling, stronger bridges, fencing, and upgraded civil works. Those investments have not kept pace. Budgets seem heavily skewed toward electrification, while the physical infrastructure needed for sustained higher speeds remains patchy.

The Bigger Question

India needed an upgrade from its outdated rolling stock—no doubt. But unless Vande Bharat delivers on its 160 km/h promise on at least a few showcase routes, it risks being remembered as a cosmetic facelift rather than a transformational leap.

At this point, it’s less about the trains themselves and more about the ecosystem they run on. Without parallel investment in track upgrades, signalling, and maintenance culture, we are left with an overpriced solution to a problem that still exists.

I’m a fan of the Vande Bharat and what it symbolizes. But admiration shouldn’t blind us to critical evaluation. If the goal is truly faster, safer, more efficient travel, then India’s railway strategy must look beyond just flashy new trainsets and focus equally on the less glamorous but far more impactful work of civil and systemic upgrades.

Only then can the Vande Bharat story move from marketing triumph to genuine mobility revolution.

Muthuswami Dikshithar: A Global Musical Architect of Form and Depth

Few composers in world music have managed what Muthuswami Dikshithar (1775–1835) achieved in Carnatic music. His works are at once scholarly, aesthetic, and pedagogical — compositions that are self-contained treatises, yet deeply moving to perform and listen to. To understand his uniqueness, one must situate him in the lineage he inherited and the innovations he forged.

Musical Pedigree and Intellectual Lineage

Dikshithar’s father, Ramaswami Dikshithar, was no ordinary musician. Having studied under Veerabhadriah — a master of contemporary ragas — and Venkata Vaidyanatha Dikshitha, a descendant of Venkatamakhin (the architect of the Chaturdandiprakasika and the 72-mela system), Ramaswami embodied both rigor and breadth. He absorbed the earlier Raganga system while mastering the veena, embedding the mathematical and aesthetic depth of Carnatic tradition.

This dual inheritance — of structure and subtlety — passed naturally to Muthuswami Dikshithar, whose genius lay in combining systematization with transcendental artistry. In global terms, one might compare this to the way Johann Sebastian Bach absorbed the contrapuntal grammar of the Renaissance, only to consolidate and elevate it into the Baroque canon, or how Ravi Shankar inherited sitar traditions yet reframed them for modern sensibility.

Innovation in Form: Beyond Sangatis

Most Carnatic composers of the 18th and early 19th centuries, including Tyagaraja, employed the kriti format with multiple charanams, heavy on sangatis (variations of a melodic line). This approach, while brilliant in its improvisatory possibilities, often meant that the musical scaffolding remained predictable once the listener was familiar with the raga.

Dikshithar diverged sharply. His kritis are deliberate, expansive, and free from the overuse of sangatis. Instead, the architecture of the song itself contains the intricacy. Much like Beethoven’s late quartets, where the structural framework carries the complexity instead of ornamentation, Dikshithar embedded sophistication into melodic symmetry, rhythmic design, and lyrical phrasing.

Dikshithar “conceived the raga in full,” ensuring that every kriti functioned as a near-complete exploration of a raga. The music lingers, with a “linked sweetness long drawn out” — not unlike the meditative pace of an Alap in Hindustani khayal.

Structural Distinctives of Dikshithar’s Kritis

1. Minimal Sangatis: Unlike Tyagaraja or Syama Sastri, Dikshithar rarely used layered sangatis. Instead, each line is already a crystallized musical idea.

2. Format Flexibility: Some kritis have only pallavi and anupallavi, others add a single charanam. In rare cases with multiple charanams (e.g., Maye in Tarangini), each charanam has its own distinct tune.

3. Nonlinear Phrasing: His kritis employ surprising yet seamless melodic transitions, akin to the unexpected harmonic shifts in Chopin’s nocturnes.

4. Heavy Gamaka Usage: His veena grounding and exposure to Hindustani traditions (particularly the jaru or glide) imbue his works with nuanced microtonal inflections.

5. Raga-Mudra Integration: Names of ragas are embedded poetically in the lyrics — a feature as if a jazz standard namedropped its key signatures mid-verse.

6. Madhyamakala Passages: These brisk rhythmic interludes occur variably across pallavi, anupallavi, or charanam — ensuring constant freshness.

7. Suladi Sapta Tala Exclusivity: His compositions unfold in grand, stately rhythms, avoiding lighter talas and creating a majestic gait.

The Case Study: Sri Naadaadi Guruguho

Dikshithar’s first known kriti, Sri Naadaadi Guruguho in Mayamalavagowla, is itself a musical thesis. Comparable to Mozart’s Symphony No. 1(Western Classical) — astonishing in its precocity yet replete with maturity — this piece encapsulates the breadth of Carnatic pedagogy and performance.  Here, I am only analyzing the musical construct of the composition. The Lyrics, the poetic beauty and they way the words fall in place, and then the DEEP PHILOSOPHY that lies embedded beneath those beautiful words, is for another discussion!! 

• Pallavi: Begins with a complete arohanam and avarohanam, spanning all octaves, while embedding sarali varisai (the first exercise any Carnatic student learns). The second line is in Janta varisai!

• Anupallavi: The Anupallavi follows the Alankaram that a student then learns next! Builds symmetry with ascending SRGM beginnings and descending MGSR endings, creating palindromic notations. The introduction of kaarvais (pauses) elevates simple alankaras into elegance. Anupallavi concludes with a madhyamakala segment.

• Charanam: Each line starts and ends on the same note, creating palindrome structures across melodic progression — a mathematical beauty reminiscent of Indian temple architecture’s symmetrical precision. The first note of the second line is one note ABOVE the first note of the first line, and so on! The raga mudra (Malavagowla) appears poetically, acknowledging both raga lineage and his awareness of melakarta theory.

This progression from lower (mandra sthayi) through middle (madhya sthayi) to the soaring upper (tara sthayi) octave makes the kriti itself a model for raga development, serving as both composition and improvisational blueprint.

A Global Parallel

What makes Dikshithar stand apart is that his compositions are not mere songs but encyclopedic explorations of musical possibility. His approach finds resonance in other world traditions. for example, Bach’s fugues (Western Classical)— exhaustive surveys of counterpoint within a defined key. Like these masters, Dikshithar’s works are not just performances but codifications of music itself.

Muthuswami Dikshithar must be regarded not only as one of Carnatic music’s Trinity but also as a global musical architect. His kritis transcend their time, simultaneously preserving ancient traditions and offering frameworks for future generations. In the balance between structure and aesthetic beauty, he belongs in the company of the world’s greatest composers —  a timeless voice that resonates far beyond Carnatic confines.

Here is the Krithi.

Pallavi:

Sri Naadhadhi Guruguho Jayathi Jayathi

Sri Chidaananda Naathohamithi

Santhatham Hridini Bhaja

Anupallavi:

Naanaa Prapancha Vichithrakaro

Naamaroopa Pancha Bhoothakaro

Agnyaana Dhvaantha Prachandha Bhaaskaro

Gnyaana Pradhaayako Maheshwaro

Madhyamakala Sahithyam:

Dheenavanodyuktha Divyatharo

Divyaughaadhi Sakala Deha Dharo

Maanasaanandakara Chathuratharo

Madh Guruvaro Mangalam Karothu

Charanam:

Maaya Maya Visvaadhisthaano

Maathmakathadhi Mathaanusthaano

Maalini Mandalaantha Vidhaano

Mantraadyajapaa Hamsa Dhyaano

Maayaakaarya Kalanaa Heeno

Maamaka Sahasra Kamalaasino

Maadhurya Gaanaamruta Paano

Maadhavaadhyabhaya Vara Pradaano

Maayaa Sabalitha Brahma rupo

Maarakoti Sundara Svarupo

Madhimathaam Hrudaya Gopura Dipo

Matthra Suraadi Jayaprataapo

Madhyama Kala Sahityam:

Maayaamaalavagaulaadidesha

Mahipathi Pujitha Pada Pradesha

Maadhavaadyamara Brunda Prakaasha

Maheshasya Mahaarthopadesha

एहसास नहीं होता

ज़िन्दगी मुश्किलों का भण्डार है यह विश्वास नहीं होता

वर न मरने के बाद जलने तक का एहसास नहीं होता। 

ग़म के पत्थर गिरे तो भी हँसने का इक आभास नहीं होता

दिल के ज़ख़्मों के पीछे ही हरदम तो निराश नहीं होता। 

राह काँटों से भरी है मगर फूल भी खिलते जाते हैं

हर सफ़र में अंधेरे हों तब भी वो बेख़ास नहीं होता। 

हँस के जीना ही असल में जीवन का परिहास है प्यारे

सिर्फ़ रो लेने से कोई दिल का विकास नहीं होता। 

आसमाँ भी कभी ग़म बरसाए तो धूप भी फैलाती है

हर घड़ी रात उतरे तो उसका सन्यास नहीं होता। 

"मनन" कहता है मुस्कुराओ, ग़म को भी साथ लेकर चलना

क्योंकि दुनिया में दुख के सिवा ही तो उपहास नहीं होता। 

மாட்சி என்ன மாட்சி

மாட்சி என்ன மாட்சி - மனையில் மட்டுமே மாட்சியா?

மறையும் இறையும் கூட செய்கிறதே?

ஆட்சி என்ன ஆட்சி -  நாட்டில் மட்டுமே ஆட்சியா?

காடும் கடலும் கூட காண்கிறதே?

காட்சி என்ன காட்சி- கண்களால் மட்டுமே காட்சியா?

மனதின் ஓட்டத்தை என் சொல்ல?

சாட்சி என்ன சாட்சி – நா வன்மை மட்டுமே சாட்சியா?

மனதின் தர்மத்தை என் செய்ய?

 

अन्दाज़ है सब

 

ज़िंदगी के यह भागदौड़ में आग़ाज़ है सब 

गुस्ताकियाँ फैले हैं, पर हमराज़ हैं सब ।।

इनको रोकने की कोशिश कभी न करो

आख़िर तक़दीर-ए-ख़ुद के सर्ताज़ हैं सब ।।



दाश्त-ए-तनहायी में गुल्फ़ाम की तलाश की

गुलाब-ए-उल्फ़त मुर्झा गये, नाराज़ है सब ।।



यहाँ तो पल-ए-सन्नाटा नामुमकिन है 

सबर कर लेना, ख़ुदा की आवाज़ है सब ।।



यह मत सोचो की सब कुछ टिकाऊ हैं

जब तक जान है महसूस करो, अन्दाज़ है सब ।।