Thursday, November 30, 2017

From Tao Te Ching

This is interesting!

lao Tzu Wrote this book may be 100s of years back.


Not praising the praiseworthy
keeps people uncompetitive.

Not prizing rare treasures
keeps people from stealing.

Not looking at the desirable
keeps the mind quiet.

So the wise soul
governing people
would empty their minds,
fill their bellies,
weaken their wishes,
strengthen their bones,

keep people unknowing,
keep the ones who do know
from doing anything.

When you do not-doing,
nothing’s out of order.

Wednesday, November 29, 2017

Film Poster 1

Did you know that there was a film like this?
I never knew or heard of it!

Repu Neede!
Tomorrow is yours!
Assurance about tomorrow!
(That never comes though!)

Tuesday, November 28, 2017

Bhajan by Kumar Gandhara

Shravanam with a difference!

Kumar Gandhra is an unusual singer of Bhajans.
His Nirguni Bhajnas are a rage among devout.

This Bhajan talks about teh way a Bhajan is sung.
It is mystic.
It is Tantric.
It is exhilarating.
I liked it form the first time I heard it.

I am sure you will too like it.
It is short!
But very effective!

(Click to see it bigger)

Dasarathi Poem

Read this poem with interest.
It is from Abhyudaya magazine of 1947

If I don't mention the name of the poet, people may think the piece is by someone else!
The rhythm and the theme in the poem are interesting.

I wish there would be some comments on this.

Sunday, November 26, 2017

Buchibabu - Katha

Story by Buchibabu published in Anandavani 1940

Sorry to those who cannot read Telugu!

Saturday, November 25, 2017

Mysore Maharaja

Jayachamaraja Wodayar was a music lover and composer!

He was crowned on 8-9-1940

Death - A Poem

A Poem by Pablo Neruda,

ALMIGHTY DEATH invited me many times:
it was like the hidden salt in waves,
and its invisible flavors tasted
like collapsing shipwrecks and summits
or vast structures made by wind and snowdrifts.

I came to the iron edge, to the thinness
of air, to the shroud of farms and stones,
the starry void of the final steps
before the dizzying spiral road:
but wide sea, O death!, you don’t come in waves
but rather like clear twilight galloping
or like the infinite host of the night.

You never came to dig in our pockets, your visit
was not possible without a red dress:
without a dawn-lit field ringed in silence:
without towering or buried monuments of tears.

I couldn’t love the tree in every soul
shouldering its own tiny autumn (a thousand leaves dying),
all of these false deaths and resurrections
without graves, without oblivion:
I wanted to swim in the fullest lives,
in the widest estuaries,
and when little by little men renounced me
and closed their doors and paths so the fountains
of my hands wouldn’t touch their wounded existence,
I then went street by street and river by river,
city by city and bed by bed,
my salty mask crossing the wilderness,
and in the last humiliated houses, without light, fire,
bread, stone, or silence, alone,
I doubled over, dying of my own death.

Friday, November 24, 2017

Mucchata Brahmadulaku - Madhyamavati

Shravanam of a rare song.

A friend has asked for this song.

Interestingly I found two versions in my library.
Here is one of them.

Mucchata Brahmadulaku - Madhyamavati

P muccaTa brahm(A)dulaku dorakunA
1muditalAra jUtAmu rArE

A paccani dEhini parama pAvanini
pArvatini talacucunu haruD(E)geDu (muccaTa)

C1 2cillara vElpula rIti narula kara
pallavamulanu taLukk(a)nucu birudul-
(e)lla meraya nija bhaktulu pogaDaga
ullamu ranjilla
tellani mEnuna niNDu sommulatO
malle hAramulu mari SObhillaga
callani vELa sakala nava ratnapu
pallakilO vEncEsi vaccu (muccaTa)

ப. முச்சட ப்3ரஹ்(மா)து3லகு தொ3ரகுனா
முதி3தலார ஜூதாமு ராரே

அ. பச்சனி தே3ஹினி பரம பாவனினி
பார்வதினி தலசுசுனு ஹரு(டே3)கெ3டு3 (மு)

ச1. சில்லர வேல்புல ரீதி நருல கர
பல்லவமுலனு தளுக்(க)னுசு பி3ருது3-
(லெ)ல்ல மெரய நிஜ ப4க்துலு பொக3ட3க3
உல்லமு ரஞ்ஜில்ல
தெல்லனி மேனுன நிண்டு3 ஸொம்முலதோ
மல்லெ ஹாரமுலு மரி ஸோ1பி4ல்லக3
சல்லனி வேள ஸகல நவ-ரத்னபு
பல்லகிலோ வேஞ்சேஸி வச்சு (மு)


ప. ముచ్చట బ్రహ్మాదులకు దొరకునా
ముదితలార జూతాము రారే

అ. పచ్చని దేహిని పరమ పావనిని
పార్వతిని తలచుచును హరుడేగెడు (ము)

చ1. చిల్లర వేల్పుల రీతి నరుల కర
పల్లవములను తళుక్కనుచు బిరుదు-
లెల్ల మెరయ నిజ భక్తులు పొగడగ
ఉల్లము రంజిల్ల
తెల్లని మేనున నిండు సొమ్ములతో
మల్లె హారములు మరి శోభిల్లగ
చల్లని వేళ సకల నవ-రత్నపు
పల్లకిలో వేంచేసి వచ్చు (ము)

Here is the direct download link.

Short Link:

Link to Mediafire Upload:

Copy and paste one of the links in your browser to download in case you have problem, please!

Thursday, November 23, 2017

Voleti - Poorvikalyani

Shravanam of the Maestro!

Voleti sings Ninnuvinaga - Poorvikalyani
of Shyama Sastry

It is simply out of the world.
I want all of you to enjoy listening to the great music!

Wednesday, November 22, 2017

Sadi Shirazi - Stories

Boss is always right!

The cabinet ministers of Nushirowan were debating an important affair of state, and each delivered his opinion according to the best of his judgment. In like manner the king also delivered his sentiments, and Abu-zarchamahr, the prime minister, accorded in opinion with him. The other ministers whispered him, saying, "What did you see superior in the king's opinion that you preferred it to the judgment of so many wise heads?" He replied: "Because the event is doubtful, and the opinion of all rests in the pleasure of the most high God whether it shall be right or wrong. Accordingly it is safer to conform with the judgment of the king, because if that shall prove wrong, our obsequiousness to his will shall secure us from his displeasure.—To sport an opinion contrary to the judgment of the king were to wash our hands in our own blood. Were he verily to say this day is night, it would behoove us to reply: Lo! there are the moon and seven stars."

They have related that at a hunting seat they were roasting some game for Nushirowan, and as there was no salt they were dispatching a servant to the village to fetch some. Nushirowan called to him, saying, "Take it at its fair price, and not by force, lest a bad precedent be established and the village desolated." They asked, "What damage can ensue from this trifle?" He answered, "Originally, the basis of oppression in this world was small, and every newcomer added to it, till it reached to its present extent:—Let the monarch eat but one apple from a peasant's orchard, and his guards, or slaves, will pull up the tree by its root. From the plunder of five eggs, that the king shall sanction, his troops will stick a thousand fowls on their spits."

Tuesday, November 21, 2017

Bhartruhari Shatakam

Bhartruhari Shatakam

This is a page from the first Sahatakam.

You may identify some of the slokams as very popular.

Those who know Telugu can easily recollect the poems as below.
తెలిసియు తెలియని నరుదెల్ప బ్రహ్మదేవుని వశమే (3)
తివిరి ఇసుమున తైలంబుదీయవచ్చు (5)

Monday, November 20, 2017

Urdu hai jis ka naam

Urdu hai jis ka naam!

I read this piece in one of those books.

Urdu had developed out of the need of Muslim rulers for a language in which to communicate with their Indian subjects. It shares its homeland with Hindi – the two languages are, linguistically, variants of each other and at the level of everyday spoken transactions are almost identical. As literary languages they are considerably different; where Hindi links culturally to Sanskrit, Urdu uses the Persian script and draws heavily on Persian for its higher vocabulary, and through Persian on Arabic. Like many of the modern languages of Europe, Urdu had to establish itself as a literary medium in the face of a convention that only a classical language could be a fit vehicle for poetry. This happened because many Indians had begun to feel that they could not express themselves as adequately as they would wish in Persian, and major poets appeared who wrote in their mother tongue, Urdu. But all Urdu poets were familiar with the literary heritage of Persian and many still wrote some of their verse in it (just as in England Milton wrote verse in Latin as well as in English). Thus Urdu poetry represents, in a sense, a further development of a literature already centuries old, with only the language changed. Urdu poets had ready to hand all the rich tradition of Persian poetry and they made full use of it – its verse forms, its metres, its delight in verbal conceits, its major themes, and its expression of the teachings of Islamic mysticism. But the use of the mother tongue helped Urdu speakers convey an intensity in their poetry which they could not have expressed in Persian.

Thursday, November 9, 2017

O S Thyagarajan - Vocal

Shravanam goes on!!!

Sri O S Thyagarajan - Concert


R K Suryanarayana _ Veena

Shravanam of Strings being plucked perfectly!

R K Suryanarayana - Veena

Marivere - Shanmukhapriya


Wednesday, November 8, 2017

M D Ramanathan - Kalyani

Shravanam with MDR!

Sri M D Ramanathan
Bhajare re chitta 
in Kalyani


Tuesday, November 7, 2017

Nedunuri - Bhairavi

Shravanam with Sri Nedunuri!

Lalite - Bhairavi - Nedunuri


A Story about White papers and Artist

The Artist

One bright, sunny day, two pieces of paper were sunbathing in the midday warmth, enjoying the pleasures of the summertime. One piece of paper was called Snow-White. She was pure white, and so very proud of her pristine purity. ‘Look at me,’ she said to her companion. ‘Did you ever see such a beautifully white piece of paper?’ Her companion was called Pure-as-the-Dawn. She too was amazingly white and wonderfully free from the slightest stain. The two pieces of paper outshone each other in the midday sunlight.
In the distance, a figure appeared upon the horizon. He caught their attention. As they watched, he approached, ever closer.
‘Who can that be?’ asked Snow-White.
‘What is he carrying in his arms?’ wondered Pure-as-the-Dawn.
The figure came closer and closer, until he was only a few yards away from the two paper-friends.
In his arms, he carried a palette and paintbrushes. In his eyes, there was a curious, dream-like light. A love-light, but gentle. And in his heart, he carried a dream.
‘What do you think he wants?’ Snow-White asked Pure-as-the-Dawn. ‘You don’t think he is going to paint on us, do you?’
Pure-as-the-Dawn flinched, as the words sank in. ‘I think that is exactly what he wants to do,’ she murmured.
‘There’s no way that I will allow him to paint on me,’ railed Snow-White. ‘No painter is going to spoil my purity.’
‘But what if he is a master-painter?’ Pure-as-the-Dawn reflected. ‘He might create a masterpiece on our pure white emptiness. He might make us into masterpieces.’
‘But then again,’ said Snow-White, ‘he might make a complete mess of us. No. I’m not taking any risks like that. I’m going to stay pure until the day I die.’
And so it came to be that the artist approached both pieces of paper and asked their permission to paint his dream upon their pure whiteness.
Snow-White said, ‘No way!’ And she remained pure white, and empty, until the day that the wind and the weather finally turned her back into pulp.
Pure-as-the-Dawn said, ‘Do as you will with me. I will trust you. I will entrust myself to the work of your hands.’ And the artist turned her into a masterpiece – a unique and beautiful representation of the dream that he was carrying in his heart, so that in all the years to come many, many people would look at the artist’s picture, and in its depths and beauty, they would rediscover their own lost dreams.

Friday, November 3, 2017

Weekend Bonanza! Nadaswaram Marathon item!

Shravanam with my favorite instrument Nadaswaram
By none other than Sri Karukuruchi Arunachalam

Arunachalam - Shanmukhapriya - RTP

Length of this item, a little more than two hours!

Enjoy and make a comment.
Let em see how many of you would have a word for the maestro!

I know, some of you must have already listened to the track.
I confess that it is not something that I converted from cassettes.
All other postings by me are my exclusives.

I am sharing this just to celebrate the great man!
No pilferage meant.
I have tonnes of his music with me.
But many people like me also have those recordings!

Anyway, Enjoy!

Thursday, November 2, 2017

1002nd Post! A Cartoon for you!

I am like this according to many!

I have never realised my posts in the blog crossed a 1000!
This is in fact No 1002!
I have only shared music, words, pictures and any other material I thought is interesting!
I did it because I enjoyed doing it!
So, not much celebration either!
The series would go on!

Mandolin Music

Shravanam to day is again Instrumental.

U Srinivas - Mandolin

This is a part Concert.
Beginning and the end may be missing.
I have given what I found.

Wednesday, November 1, 2017

Todi by Hyderabad Brothers

Shravanam today!

Listen to Sri Raghavachary and Seshachary sing Dasarathi


On the Tram

Only Kafka can write a story like this!

I stand on the end platform of the tram and am completely unsure of my footing in this world, in this town, in my family. Not even casually could I indicate any claims that I might rightly advance in any direction. I have not even any defense to offer for standing on this platform, holding on to this strap, letting myself be carried along by this tram, nor for the people who give way to the tram or walk quietly along or stand gazing into shop windows. Nobody asks me to put up a defense, indeed, but that is irrelevant.
The tram approaches a stopping place and a girl takes up her position near the step, ready to alight. She is as distinct to me as if I had run my hands over her. She is dressed in black, the pleats of her skirt hang almost still, her blouse is tight and has a collar of white fine-meshed lace, her left hand is braced flat against the side of the tram, the umbrella in her right hand rests on the second top step. Her face is brown, her nose, slightly pinched at the sides, has a broad round tip. She has a lot of brown hair and stray little tendrils on the right temple. Her small ear is close-set, but since I am near her I can see the whole ridge of the whorl of her right ear and the shadow at the root of it.
At that point I asked myself: How is it that she is not amazed at herself, that she keeps her lips closed and makes no such remark?