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...
The next morning, the sun rose bright and early, leaving no signs of the fog of the day before. The view from the room was unbelievable, visibility extending to the road on the other side of the valley. Take a look at the two panoramic photos I took of the view from our room during the fog and the one the next morning in sunlight. From Munnar Aug 2008 From Munnar Aug 2008 The View from our room --in the fog, and early in the morning...... We had to start back early so that we could reach home and give Sankar a break from driving, as well take some rest before getting back to work. Besides, Samhith wanted to go back to the crocodile park at Amaravathi Nagar. Samhith feeds the rabbits (he saved the carrots we bought....and fed them himself) and chases the sole rooster at the resort. It must have been relieved when we finally left!!! We had a heavy breakfast at Whispering Meadows, where Samhith played with pet rabbits and roosters, finally bidding them goodbye when...