The year was 1290 . A crowd had gathered around a clearing, where broken down pillars marked the presence of an ancient temple, now long gone. A young boy, just 14 years old, leaned against one of those pillars, deep in thought. Then, he began speaking, and the crowd fell silent, listening to his every word. He spoke without any notes, translating the Bhagavat Gita, from Sanskrit, which only the pundits knew, to the language everyone in the village knew and spoke – a variety of Prakrit which developed into the Marathi language. Even as he spoke, one of the men in the audience realized how momentous this event was, and how important this composition would be. He began writing down the words the young boy spoke, and this composition was named by its author and composer, the Bhavartha Deepika – the enlightening meaning (of the Bhagavat Gita). Now, the ancient, holy text, was no longer restricted to the pundits, but accessible to all, understood easily by them, composed as it was, in their...
Last week I visited a place in the heart of the concrete city of Mumbai which deals with the grave matter of death, but is a peaceful oasis in this city of life. This is the Dashnami Goswami Akhada, or the Banganga Goswami cemetery, as it is more popularly known. This is no ordinary cemetery where all and sundry are cremated (as is the case with all Hindu deaths), but this is a special area reserved for those who have taken the vows of Sanyas (renunciation) – Sanyasis as we know them. Of course, the more popular Sanyasis are those who are the pontiffs of the various mutts in India, but there are others who have lived the life of normal householders, but have taken the path of renunciation later in life. One such person was my husband’s great-grandfather. Known in this life as Ramanathapuram Sheshadri Iyer , born in 1881, he renounced the world, taking on the name of Swami Satchitananda , and attained nirvana in 1964. Traditionally, Sanyasis are not cremated, but are buried, sea...