Love isn't singular but a composite emotion. If affection, care and concern can be considered as manifestations of love then their counterparts envy, malice and rage should equally be part of the same mix. It cannot be that this complex emotion is the sum of only the good parts. When a parent seethes in anger over his child's misdeeds and manhandles him, it cannot be but out of love. And so are the various passion crimes that one comes across in everyday life. At the root of it all is that ever pulsating entity - love.
The vital turns in Ramayana are borne out of the love of 2 ladies - Mandara, Soorphanaka. Unlike other stories, histories or mythologies, where the twists and turns arise out of conflicts of interests, Ramayana is all about love. Love of Mandara for her mistress convinced the latter into banishing Rama, love of Soorphanakha for Rama turned the entire course of the story.
అది యజమానురాలి యెడ ప్రేమా మందరను ప్రేరేపించినది?
సవతి చూలికి పట్టము గట్టుట చూడలేక
సొంత సంతుకు ఊడిగల ఉద్యోగమే రాసి ఉన్నదని
తన పర తేడాలెరుగని కైకమ్మను భయముపెట్టి
రామునకు తన రాజ్యముననే నిలువ నీడ లేక చేసినది?
అది సౌందర్యాతిశయమా శూర్ఫణఖను వివశను చేసినది?
చేరువ కాలేని అందమును చేజిక్కించుకొను ఆశతో
కాముకత్వమున వివేకమును విస్మరించిన కాంక్షలో
కృపతో చెప్పిన మాటలను పెడచెవిన పెట్టి
కృపాణపు మెరుపులకు ముక్కు చెవులు పోగొట్టుకున్నది?
కక్ష కార్పణ్యముల కారణన
మలుపు తిరిగిన కధలు ఎన్నో
మనిషి చరితన చిరపరచితం
ప్రేమ అతిశయించిన మాత్రాన
బహిష్కరణ తిరస్కరణలతో
రాతలే మారిన వైనం ఈ రామాయణం
హితము పేరిట మితులు మీరిన అభిమానమూ
కోరిక చాటున ఒడలు మరిచిన వ్యామోహమూ
పవిత్రమన్న ప్రేమకు ప్రతిరూపాలే
నిజాయితీకి నిలబడు నిదర్శనాలే
యుగాది
వైతాళికులు
అభివృద్ధి చాటున అరణ్యాలను హరించి
నాగరికత మాటున హర్మ్యాలను నిర్మించి
మొక్కకూ చెట్టుకూ పుట్టకూ పుట్రకూ
మనుషులతో మనగలగు రాతలేదని నిర్ధారించి
కడకు కోకిల కూత రాయంచ ఊసువంటి కాల్పనిక కసరత్తుగా
పుల్ల మామిడి పిందె అసలు అస్థిత్వమే లేని గగన కుసుమముగా
చేసుకున్న జనసంద్ర సాంద్ర సందోహపు హోరులో
సవ్వడికి సందులేని సందడి జోరులో
తప్పనట్టు తిరిగే తారీకు పట్టీలన తప్ప
ఈ జన కీకారణ్యాన, ఉగాదీ, నీ ఉనికెక్కడ?
కరుణ ఎరుగని కరకు కాల చక్రము క్రింద
గతవైభవములన్నీ నలిగి గతించుట కద్దు
గడచిపోయిన ఘడియను విడిచిపెట్టు కీలకము
కాలమే పనిగట్టుకు నేర్పించు మార్పులోని మర్మము
నాడు క్రొత్త వర్షమునకు కోకిల పిలుపులు మామిడి పులుపులు పరాకులైతే
నేడు ఆత్మీయతా పలకరింపులు మానవీయతా పరిమళాలు ప్రతీకలు కాగలవు
పండగ పరమార్ధము సంజ్ఞలు సంకేతాలూ కాక
మనిషి తత్వమును మానవత్వమును పదిలపరచుకోను
వ్యవహారము సమసిపోయినా ఆచారము మరచిపోకుండగా
వేసే ప్రతి అడుగూ క్రొత్త యుగాదికే వేచే ప్రొద్దూ క్రొత్త ఉషస్సుకే
A Beautiful Mind
The one standout feature in Dravid's batting that separates him from other legends of his era is how intensely personal all his battles are, in that, he plays against himself and the opposition is his own weaknesses and his war is against himself in trying to curb and conquer them. And the concentration, the sweat, the intense focus and the unwavering discipline are his army that he summons without fail for every battle, regardless of the quality of the opposition. Need further proof? Check out the way he reacts when he falls, not for those miracle deliveries that one can do nothing about, but to the regular ones, wayward ones, the 'gimme's, the ones that had no business being rewarded. His reaction is one of furious anger which is nothing but a serious disappointment in himself - how could he had fallen prey to such cheapness after working so hard to master his licentious senses? And that itself is a great indication of how much he demanded from himself as to not allow even a single aberration, given his meticulous and legendary preparation. On the field, while batting, he lives in that single moment of the ball striking the bat, that single delivery that deserves his complete and undivided attention. He is the true son of the soil having internalized the essence of karma theory where the means matter more than the ends. There is never any disdain nor disrespect for even substandard bowling, no casualness nor carefree approach even when on a song. Respect is what he has and shows, towards his method, his preparation, and importantly, the opposition, to mould his method and keep him hungry. And absolute perfection was what he was ultimately aiming for. This end goal fit nicely into his obsession for constant improvement and reinvention to ultimately develop a technique that was complete and self-containing, with just enough room left to evolve further.
His temperament resembles the style of an orthodox spinner, whose chief weapon is one of attrition - no aggression, no talking down, no brow beating, just simple wearing down the opposition into submission. And just as a classical spinner lays his trap carefully slipping in the surprise guiling it among ordinariness, Dravid's flourishes are surrounded by what would seem to an untrained eye as sheer tedium. Just as fast bowlers hunt in pairs, Dravid unleashes his twin weapons - attrition, which more often than not ensu(r)es, frustration - to grind the opposition out. Attrition, however, demands a great price in patience and concentration, like a sniper who spends more time in watching through the scope than squeezing the trigger. It is unexiciting and uneventful for most part, but when the target walks into the cross hairs, the action is swift and ruthless. Being aggressive is easy, being patient takes time and work. This attitude of constantly pushing himself to get out the best in himself reflects in all the challenges he had taken up in his career - muscling his way into the shorter format after being deemed incomptent first, standing up behind the stumps, moving up and down the order to become the ultimate utility player the country ever produced. When cited his slow scoring rate was why he was overlooked from getting picked in the shorter format, he adapted his technique and became more creative, showing his critics that it wasn't his inability why he score slow, rather it was his choice, and when the need arose, switching to a different gear was as easy transferring the liquid contents from one container to the next. And during that 5-6 year period in 2000's, he was virtually unstoppable in either formats.
That he got the shorter end of the stick when his form dipped just once in ODIs and he was immediately set aside in favor of 'youth', was just one of the many injustices meted out to him. When his captain gave him the impossible choice that he can retain a place in the team only if he also doubled the duties as a keeper, he answered the call of duty without any complaint. When other senior players were grumbling and groaning about the positions they were batting at (read, Sachin and Laxman) even when it was felt necessary to spread out the talent from becoming a top-heavy or a bottom-heavy unit, Dravid quietly offered himself to serve as a ballast at any position in any order. And when a certain captain, of all people, pulled himself out of the lineup feigning injury at the sight of the green top, Draivd bravely led the team even when fighting for a lost cause. All these examples illustrate not of some great grit seeped in nobility, ala the Christ figure, who mutely took on the weight of the cross on his shoulders. Rather he reveled at those impossible situations, at the opportunities of being pushed more and more in unanticipated ways in unknown directions. Keep for an entire innings and then pad up to face the first ball? His hand went up in an instant. Drop down in the order, even in his prime, for giving that one final push in the final overs? The man waited his turn. This is not, as is often mistaken, as selflessness, sacrifice or 'taking one for the team'. At the peak of his prowess, he could have had his terms met without any dissent. But betterment was paramount in Dravid's mind, and a keeper-batsman was better than being just a batsman, and if he could shoulder the responsibility of both ends and shepherd his team to safety with the tailenders than playing it safe among his top order peers, even better!
His poker face gave nothing away. His battles were in the space between the two ears than on that 22 yard strip. He motto was 'better than the last'. His modus operandi - pratice maketh the man perfect. Rarely does one come across a cricket who finds the opposition as an enabler to his ascension. Quite a rare breed, this Dravid is!
Business as usual - Ind vs Aus vs SL - Triangular Series - 2012
2008 was an aberration, a disruption of normal service. Till then, irrespective of the team's superlative and horrendous performance in the longer format, Indian team fared pretty consistently playing up either as the perennial runners-up or quorum filler making a quick exit in ALL the triangular contests held down under dating all the back to the 80s. Even during the '04 series when the team was considered to be at its strongest best, it somehow couldn't land the sucker punch on the Aussies, thereby merely adding up one more notch on what had been a consistent string of crushing defeats. All that changed in '08 though. Again, the league matches leading up to those two epoch finals (at least, from the Indian perspective) proceeded in the same fashion as its predecessors in the previous visits - a victory here and there, but never a momentum building drive that could topple the Aussies from their high chairs. And so, in the finals, when Indians registered back to back victories in the finals on the shoulders of consistent batting, miserly bowling and sharp fielding, it was complete bolt from the blue that even they themselves found it hard to believe. And the post victory celebrations, the laps around the stadiums and the chest-beating and -thumping that followed, as though the country had won the World Cup, showed how much those wins meant for them, even if they were just a couple. One could even say that winning the first series ever in Australia was the crowning achievement for the team's ODI unit that could rank along side the World Cup victories, which made the team to be taken seriously even when leaving the comfortable confines of home turfs. And then 2012 happened. After a brief interruption in the regular schedule, normalcy was restored and business was back being the usual.
There are somethings that people in India can set their clocks to, aside from the natural periodic phenomena. Like the sighting of the Haley comet, these two events happen with amazing regularity, the first one every 4 years after the Olympics, and the second every three years, after the trip from Australia (as said above, 2008 was an exception and hence excluded from the following consideration). And in both cases, the arguments haven't changed much through all these generations dating back to decades. In Olympics, after the Indian contingent returns empty handed (save for some herculean individual efforts here and there), all the chatter media gets to work piling on the same complaint in the same complaint box about how a country boasting of a billion people remain so barren all this time, when countries, more impoverished and less populated than ours, casually pass us up on the final medals tally. The second argument is just as exasperating, futile and tiresome, and this one involves pace and bounce. How many more times and in how many more ways can the richest board in the world be beaten up for its lackadaisical attitude towards sporting wickets, whenever the team returns from overseas tours long-faced and empty handed, like a kid who managed nothing but noughts on his progress report. While the paucity of performance can be justified to a certain extent, in Olympics, what with the weak infrastructure and lack of seriousness towards sports at the grass root level, or the scarcity of private sponsorship for less glamorous sports and institutional apathy towards nurturing talent, cricket has no where to hide. It has the money, it has the resources, it has the men - players, administrators, coaches. What it lacks is the concern and the commitment to overcome the deficiencies, which plays into the commonly held view that the administrators either don't know anything about the game or don't care anything about the game, as long as the sponsorship money flows in and the coffers get filled up.
What is surprising is the solution is so simple that all it takes is just a couple of juicy tracks to mirror the conditions abroad to have the team work on its technique and iron out any obvious shortcomings. That's it, nothing more. No foreign coaches, no computer aided technology, no motivation lessons, no visualization exercises. Just one bloody pitch where the ball can dictate terms to the bat. Until such is laid down, the sights of batsmen hopping up and down like cats on hot coals, the tentative pokes and jabs and miscalculated leaves along the Green Mile, falling head over heels over the chin music continue to frustrate its loyal legions, troubling the scorers the least in the process and provide fodder to the talking heads and writing hands. To borrow a line from a presidential campaign - don't expect different results with the same failed strategies, or in simple breaking-up jargon - It's not you, it's me!
There are somethings that people in India can set their clocks to, aside from the natural periodic phenomena. Like the sighting of the Haley comet, these two events happen with amazing regularity, the first one every 4 years after the Olympics, and the second every three years, after the trip from Australia (as said above, 2008 was an exception and hence excluded from the following consideration). And in both cases, the arguments haven't changed much through all these generations dating back to decades. In Olympics, after the Indian contingent returns empty handed (save for some herculean individual efforts here and there), all the chatter media gets to work piling on the same complaint in the same complaint box about how a country boasting of a billion people remain so barren all this time, when countries, more impoverished and less populated than ours, casually pass us up on the final medals tally. The second argument is just as exasperating, futile and tiresome, and this one involves pace and bounce. How many more times and in how many more ways can the richest board in the world be beaten up for its lackadaisical attitude towards sporting wickets, whenever the team returns from overseas tours long-faced and empty handed, like a kid who managed nothing but noughts on his progress report. While the paucity of performance can be justified to a certain extent, in Olympics, what with the weak infrastructure and lack of seriousness towards sports at the grass root level, or the scarcity of private sponsorship for less glamorous sports and institutional apathy towards nurturing talent, cricket has no where to hide. It has the money, it has the resources, it has the men - players, administrators, coaches. What it lacks is the concern and the commitment to overcome the deficiencies, which plays into the commonly held view that the administrators either don't know anything about the game or don't care anything about the game, as long as the sponsorship money flows in and the coffers get filled up.
What is surprising is the solution is so simple that all it takes is just a couple of juicy tracks to mirror the conditions abroad to have the team work on its technique and iron out any obvious shortcomings. That's it, nothing more. No foreign coaches, no computer aided technology, no motivation lessons, no visualization exercises. Just one bloody pitch where the ball can dictate terms to the bat. Until such is laid down, the sights of batsmen hopping up and down like cats on hot coals, the tentative pokes and jabs and miscalculated leaves along the Green Mile, falling head over heels over the chin music continue to frustrate its loyal legions, troubling the scorers the least in the process and provide fodder to the talking heads and writing hands. To borrow a line from a presidential campaign - don't expect different results with the same failed strategies, or in simple breaking-up jargon - It's not you, it's me!
శివరాత్రి
విశ్వాంతరాళమున వెదజల్లిన విస్త్రుతికి విస్మయము చెందనా?
అణుమాత్రమున అణిచిపెట్టిన సంక్లిష్టతకు అబ్బుర పడనా?
అందినట్టే ఉన్న లీలకు తలను వంచనా?
అర్ధమే అవని లెక్కలకు తికమకలు పడనా?
నీవే అన్నింటనన్న గుడ్డి భక్తిని నమ్ముకోనా?
ఏదీ ఇదికాదన్న తిక్క తర్కాన తెలుసుకోనా?
గతము నడచిపోయిన బాటన నిను ఆరాధించినా?
ప్రశ్నలు పరచుకున్న మార్గాన అన్వేషించనా?
అనుభూతితో నిను అందుకోనా?
అవగాహనతో నిను తెలుసుకోనా?
నీవు భవునివా? లేక భావానివా?
నిన్ను చూచు కాంక్ష తీవ్రతమమైనా
ఎన్నడూ నువ్వు నాకు కనిపించబోకు
నిన్ను తెలుసుకోను నిత్యమూ నీ ఊసునెంచినా
ఎన్నటికీ నువ్వు నాకు అర్ధమే కాబోకు
అవధి లేనటువంటి ఆలోచనకు అవకాశమును కల్పించి
పరిమితులకందని పరమార్ధముందన్న పరిణితిని పుట్టించి
సదా నీకోసము నా శోధనను సాగనివ్వు
సమాధానమందని సాధనకు సూత్రమవ్వు
అనుభూతిలోని ఆర్తితో అవగాహనన వెలుగు జ్యోతిలో
అస్తిత్వము మనని తీరములో అందుకోనీ నిన్ను
నీవు అనంతుడవు, నీవు అనర్ధుడవు
Vote of thanks - Ind vs Aus - Test Cricket
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In the end, it is not so much about the end score than it is about a conclusive end of an era, an era wherein the stars shone bright and the display thereof was dazzling. It had to come an end, one way or another, one time or another. And when the last of the fireworks dies out, and all that is left is the stoic silence in the stillness of the dark, the momentary sadness and disappointment would soon be replaced with a deep sense of gratitude for a job of enthralling so well done. Yes, it could have lasted a little longer, it, could have sparkled a little brighter, and yes, it could have a given a chance for one last hurrah. Even then, the fading out act wouldn't be a moment of merriment. The sorrow and gloom would still be there, but that's only for the affection for a career well served and well entertained. It is only sad that not everyone can ride into the sunset with honor held high. In the modern era of the game, it only happened with Gavaskar, Imran and Steve W. Out of hundreds, just three. The rest slipped away into the shadows, some on their own volition, and some, shown the way. In a career full of ups and down, the one last goal becomes one of choosing the moment to hang up the boots, not records and milestones. And who wouldn't wish for that high moment to bookend a lenghty career well lived? When sports persons eventually become the senior citizenry of their game and retirement awaits them around the corner, do what the Australian crowd does at every entrance and exit of Sachin, no matter the runs against his name that day - just stand up and applaud, and not rue at the last chances that were missed out or slipped away. In short, Thank you Dravid, Thank you VVS.
The one aspect that made an ocean of difference between the two sides was the ability to bowl consistently in the channel. Both teams had similar speeds, similar firepower and similar tricks in the bag. But only one team hurled along the imaginary dotted line a little away from the off stick more number of times and the results rewarded that discipline. Plain and simple. In that Bermuda Triangle in the corridor of uncertainty, many a batman met his ultimate demise, and till date, there was no technique invented counter the innocuous 'just outside the offs stump' delivery. Even for a team studded with marauders who plundered runs all around the globe tormenting every sort of bowler, the David-esque hurl that whizzes by carting a passing glance at the off stump is guaranteed to bring it to its knees. It didn't matter if the bowler had a reputation or not, as long as, as a team, they bowled with a dogged determination to hit the same line ball after ball, and as the results show, it merely took 20 balls hit at similar lines and lengths to hit paydirt. Again, this is not spreading those 20 good balls over a span of 200-250 overs as the Indians did, but tightening up with 70-100 overs to almost double the chances. There no magic balls here, no real unplayable ones that bowlers conjure up from who-knows-where once in a while, this is just coaching level cricket, where the overlords thunder at the minions to keep bowling in the same channel from dawn till dusk, In sticking to the basics, Aussies cashes in on their strong work ethic, and in trying to do too much in every single delivery, Indians provided more opportunities for the opposition to score freely than they created chances for themselves patiently waiting for that 'magic ball' to happen.
When does a simple warning bell become a siren blare indicating the impending doom? Guess, a struggle to tide over a weaker side (WI) on home soil should have peaked some ears, or the total annihilation in England should have given some administrator somewhere some sleepless nights and some serious heartburn. Now there is no escaping from the fact that the rot has turned truly systemic and the only way to stem it and start on the road to recovery quickly is by making the hard decision of excising the infected part and let the system adapt, even if slowly, to the new configuration. Decline or not, the administrators should have taken a decision to mix up the line up with old and new so as to allow the new to blossom under the watchful eyes of the old. That would have meant benching/rotating the players on a periodic basis which could have served the dual purpose of keeping the tired legs fresh for any call of duty and exposing the new brood to the harsh realities of the game. It is indeed mind boggling (and quite characteristic) that for a team suffering from a brittle backbone (middle order), the powers that be waited for last flicker to burn out in one final blaze of glory than plan the retirement of the geriatric greats in a phased out manner. Aging is natural, no matter the talent or the genius, and there is no point finding fault with the slowing down of instincts and reflexes. But the near sightedness of not noticing the bumpy ride up ahead and planning accordingly is what is criminal. Blame not the players, sack the planners.
When the game started looking elsewhere for inspiration in other sports for improving its own technique in, say, fielding, throwing or running, it should have picked up a tip or two in player management too. No other professional sport would bet this beg on a team that is a great has-been without preparing a second line of defense to back up the front line up at the first sign of trouble. Unfortunately, that was meant to be and the results are there to show conforming to the law of nature. Letting go is really hard, both for the players and the planners, but the least that the latter could do is at least give the players a chance for a fond and a fitting farewell. And that means, giving them an advance notice (even if it is behind closed doors), not an unceremonious boot, of the transition plan and let the players choose their moment of exits. If anything, the Australian debacle had served the purpose of making the inevitable choice a bit of easier on the seniors, and the Aussie bowlers have to be thanked for making the decision on behalf of the administrators, What they say is indeed true, every dark cloud has a silver lining.
సంక్రాంతి
పల్లెపదాలు
పడిన శ్రమకు సాక్ష్యం నువ్వే ఎదురెండా
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పాటల పందిరి వేయు పురహితుడని
మెడను గంట గట్టి కాళ్ళ గజ్జె తొడిగి
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నూత్న నాట్యవేదము రచియించు బసవన్నా
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కర్మ భూమిలో తకధిముల తంతులో
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విచ్చే నవ్వుకు చప్పట్లు
తిరిగే కాళ్ళకు తిరునాళ్ళు
పాడే నోటికి తాళాలు
వేసే మొగుడికి వే-కళ్ళు
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