Happy Diwali, dear readers. It’s another opportunity to renew our lives with faith, hope, and charity. If we open our hearts to it, Diwali can refresh our spirits and energise us. I once saw a gallant example of faith and hope in Mumbai. A beggar carefully lit a single diya to illumine his patch of pavement. Equally powerful is a memory of Haridwar at Diwali. A gaunt, dusty farmer set a solitary diya afloat on the Ganga. His reverence and dignity stopped my heart. What pain and hardship did he want the Mother River and Mahalakshmi to heal? Or perhaps he offered thanks? Who won't feel moved by such poignant sights?
Food is integral to our festivals. As a fan of food history, I keep noticing interesting things about what seem to be festival must-haves. I read, for instance, that ghee helps heal stomach inflammations and ulcers. It is rich in butyric acid, “a monounsaturated fatty acid that reduces inflammatory conditions, reduces seepage of undigested food particles, and aids in repair of the mucosal wall”.
This tidbit of medical information ties into a curious fact about a Vedic paathshala over 400 years old, which I visited in the ancient temple town of Kumbakonam in the Kaveri delta. There, I discovered that the arduous lifestyle required for learning the Vedas by heart came with its own health risks. The course is very rigorous even today in such old-style paathshalas—eight hours of lessons a day for eight years with only two holidays a year.
After eight years, a student must face a frightening examination: any line from the entire body of the Vedas can be flung at him for recitation and explanation. It takes 45 hours of non-stop chanting to do a full paaraayanam or Vedic recitation. To give the scholars stamina, day-old rice with buttermilk is the prescribed paathshala breakfast. The rest of the diet is equally austere, a world away from most of our lives. But the boys seemed upbeat, playing cricket energetically in their free time.
I learned that Vedic chanting generates so much heat in the body that students are prone to developing stomach ulcers, and a regular dose of ghee is the traditional remedy to protect their stomach linings. How did people know so much about ghee’s health benefits back then?
Given the conflicted state of our world, there seems no healthier Diwali wish this year for people of all faiths than the Sanskrit song sung by M S Subbulakshmi at the UN General Assembly on October 23, 1966.
The song is attributed to the Kanchi Paramacharya, Chandrasekharendra Sarasvati (1894-1994). The Kanchi Paramacharya was the saintly personage whom the Dalai Lama described as “the only monk of the century” and whom heads of state, the king and queen of Spain, Japanese scholars, and the poorest and shyest of our people felt drawn to. Warring factions united in respecting him. So, the song came from a genuinely good person who was revered by a wide cross-section of classes, castes, creeds, and even nationalities.
The story goes that MS suddenly lost her voice prior to the UN concert. She prayed to the Kanchi Paramacharya from afar to save her as India’s representative from the disgrace of a no-show, and recovered in time to sing and win a standing ovation for the song. We can hear it on YouTube and watch that sincere Indian lady way back then, draped in a sari with a bindi glowing on her forehead and a string of flowers tucked into her hair, singing with utter conviction.
The words are:
maitrimbhajata, akhilahritjaitrim/ atmavadevaparannapipashyata/ yudhhamtyajata, spardhamtyajata/ tyajatapareshuakrama-kramanam/ jananiprithivikamadugharte /janakodevahsakaladayaluh/ damyata, datta, dayadhvamjanata/ shreyobhuyatsakalajananam.
They mean: ‘Cultivate friendship and humility, which will conquer the hearts of everyone. Look upon others as akin to yourself, as your own. Renounce war, give up competition (jealousy), give up aggression; do not be aggressive.
Mother Earth gives us all that we desire. God is One and compassionate to all, as we should be. Practice restraint (damyata), generosity (datta), and compassion (dayadhavam), O people of the world. May all be happy and prosperous.’
The words damyata, datta, and dayadhvam appear in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad in a story by Rishi Yajnavalkya, where they convey a message from the universe, contained in the roar of thunder.
Concerning the kind-hearted personality of the Kanchi Paramacharya, who was known for his divine insight, and for whom nobody was apparently too small or insignificant, here’s a tiny true story re-shared for Diwali.
Sometime in the 1960s, a poor bangle-seller wandered from place to place selling his wares in villages and rural fairs. One day, he wandered into the temple town of Kanchipuram. Somehow, nobody seemed interested in buying anything. Tired and dejected by late afternoon, he sat down at the doorway of the Kanchi Kamakoti Math.
Deep within the math, the Kanchi Paramacharya suddenly told an aide, “Give the bangle-seller at the gate food and buttermilk. Ask him to wait. Tell the devotees who come for evening darshan to buy bangles for their womenfolk in Devi’s honour.” Of course, they did, and the bangle-seller went away feeling cherished and successful.
Not everyone may be in a position to perform great deeds of service, but good thoughts and small, sweet acts of loving kindness could be the lamps we light this Diwali.
Renuka Narayanan | FAITHLINE | Senior journalist
(Views are personal)
(shebaba09@gmail.com)
