Friday Evenings at Press Club Hyderabad .... Conversations, Continuity, and Collective Memory .... Expanding Horizons of Memoirs and Updating : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

Friday Evenings at Press Club Hyderabad

Conversations, Continuity, and Collective Memory

Expanding Horizons of Memoirs and Updating 

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(February 21, 2026)

At 78, when mere reading and writing remain cherished companions, another thought came to me: why not step out once a week to meet like-minded friends, spend a few meaningful hours, exchange ideas, and recall journeys that shaped us? What began as a simple and casual ‘Thursday Evening Thought’ has now taken the form of purposeful ‘Friday Gatherings’ at the ‘Press Club Hyderabad.’ 

Over conversation and a social drink, it became the seed of this initiative. This initiative is neither about nostalgia alone nor about individuals seeking recognition. It is about creating a structured yet informal space where experience meets reflection, where memory becomes documentation, and where professional wisdom can be shared, preserved, and passed forward. The idea itself is what matters, and it is an idea that can be replicated anywhere.

The idea was first shared with GK Murthy, former Doordarsan Kendra Hyderabad senior official and former Vice-President of the Press Club. His immediate response was not only to join but also to facilitate the first meeting and invite others. 

Thus, the first Friday gathering took shape. Joining us was Devulapalli Amar, a 70-year-old senior journalist with five decades of experience beginning with Eenadu and Andhra Bhoomi, who later served as a journalists’ union leader at state and national levels, as Chairman of the AP Press Academy, and as National Media Advisor and Coordinator to the AP Government. A prolific writer and political analyst, he currently edits Mana Telangana.

We were also joined by 80-year-old veteran journalist Bhandaru Srinivasa Rao, whose career spans over six decades: from Andhra Jyothi in Vijayawada to news units of All India Radio and Doordarsan Kendra, including a four-year stint in Moscow. Known for his objectivity, he remains an active writer and commentator in Social Media. 

Another friend present was, Subhash Gowd, aged 69, began his career with Andhra Bhoomi before rising to Director in the AP Government Information and Public Relations Department. He too joined the gathering. GK Murthy, true to his word, attended along with his friend V Subba Rao. Both are in their mid-70s, bringing with them decades of memory.

The discussion unfolded naturally, through questions, recollections, memoirs, professional journeys, appreciations, and candid reflections on likes and dislikes. It was neither structured nor chaotic; it evolved through collective thought. Memories of early assignments surfaced. Amar recalled his days at Eenadu and spoke of a forthcoming collective memoir authored by 15 of 26 former colleagues. 

Despite mixed experiences working there: commitment to journalism profession and as Union Leader equally, he expressed a desire to visit the Eenadu office, perhaps first ever visit after he left the job there, with fellow colleagues to pay respects to its founder, the late Ramoji Rao.

The group fondly remembered Gora Shastri of Andhra Bhoomi, recalling his journalistic excellence and mentorship. Both Amar and Subhash acknowledged how he shaped their fundamentals in journalism. 

Subhash recounted how, early in his career, he successfully drafted an important official document at short notice, a confidence born of that foundational training. Experiences relating to TTD were shared, with Subhash having served as PRO and GK Murthy associated with a former TTD Chairman. These conversations revealed how journalism intersects with governance, faith institutions, and public communication.

Throughout the evening, Bhandaru Srinivasa Rao enriched the discussions with thoughtful insights drawn from his vast experience. Later, Press Club Secretary Ramesh Varikuppala and Vice-President Aruna Atthaluri joined and spent quality time with the group, encouraging the spirit of engagement. 

I for myself preferred more on eliciting experiences from others. The first meeting concluded with a shared understanding: these Friday gatherings would continue, and ideally expand. The long-term idea is to invite knowledgeable individuals from diverse fields to share experiences in an open, reflective setting.

Origins of the Press Club, established as a professional hub for journalists and communication professionals, providing space for work, networking, and dialogue was recalled. Memories were shared about the Club’s shift in 1994 from Basheer Bagh to its present premises in Somajiguda, marking an important phase in its growth. Also recalled how over time, successive executive bodies strengthened its infrastructure: such as meeting rooms, auditoriums, conference halls etc. The facility to relax over a social drink complements its professional character was what we felt.

The meeting resolved to meet certainly again the following Friday, not merely for camaraderie, but to consciously document insights that may serve present and future generations, especially in journalism, public relations, and allied fields. 

Finally, the evening concluded with a shared understanding: this should not remain a one-time event. Friday meetings would continue, and gradually expand. The long-term idea is simple yet powerful, to invite knowledgeable individuals from different fields and facilitate the sharing of lived experiences in an informal yet purposeful setting.

What emerged from this gathering is a model that can be replicated anywhere. A few committed individuals. Consistency of meeting. Conversations centered on lived experience rather than abstract debate. Rotational facilitation without hierarchy. Gradual inclusion of experts from diverse fields. 

Most importantly, documenting insights so they do not evaporate with time. In an age of instant messaging and fleeting opinions, sustained reflective dialogue is becoming rare. Yet professions grow when memory is respected, examined, and preserved. Informal conversations, when nurtured with intent, can become living archives.

These Friday evenings are not about nostalgia or looking back alone. They are about continuity and carrying forward. When experienced professionals sit together without competition or hierarchy, or agenda, knowledge flows freely. If replicated elsewhere, such gatherings can serve as quiet academies, as preserving professional ethics, narrating institutional histories, strengthening camaraderie, and inspiring younger generations in journalism, public relations, and allied professions.

              What stands out in this entire initiative is not merely that a few senior professionals met on a Friday evening. What stands out is the conscious effort to convert memory into meaning. In a time when speed dominates substance and reaction replaces reflection, such gatherings restore balance. They remind us that institutions are built not only by structures and positions, but by conversations, mentorship, disagreements, corrections, and shared experiences.

Professional communities often speak about ‘Legacy,’ yet rarely create simple platforms where legacy can be narrated, examined, and archived in a living manner. These ‘Friday Meetings’ demonstrate that one does not need grand seminars, formal resolutions, or elaborate funding to sustain intellectual continuity. 

A table, a few chairs, mutual respect, and the willingness to listen, and enough: these are sufficient foundations. If similar circles begin elsewhere: in press clubs, universities, literary associations, administrative services forums, or even small-town libraries, they may become informal academies of experience. The senior generation finds renewed engagement. The middle generation finds perspective. The younger generation finds direction.

Most importantly, professional ethics find reinforcement through lived examples rather than textbook prescriptions. However, a word of caution: Such initiatives must remain idea-driven, not personality-driven, and continuity-driven, not event-driven. When meetings become consistent, documentation becomes organic, and documentation gradually becomes collective memory. 

And collective memory strengthens institutions. Well, if this spirit continues, our ‘Friday Evenings’ may well evolve into something larger than anticipated: not in size, but in significance. Press Club maybe the Venue, but the idea transcends the venue. Wherever professionals value memory, meaning, and mentorship, such meetings should happen.

Meet. Reflect. Document. Continue. That is the essence. 

AN OPINION By Vijay Oddiraju (President, Center for Brahmin Excellence)..... On My Journey from Khangi School to Center for Excellence: Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 AN OPINION By Vijay Oddiraju: CEO Volante Technologies

And President, Center for Brahmin Excellence

On My Book

PROFESSIONS, CHECKERED CAREER, AND LESSONS

(From Librarian to CPRO to CM KCR)

A Journey from Khangi School to Center for Excellence

By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

Writing an opinion on a book is new territory for me, and I say that with humility. Yet, after reading Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons by Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao in one continuous sitting; such was the pull of his narrative -I feel compelled to reflect on what makes this work not only compelling but deeply meaningful.

It is rare to find a memoir that is at once simple to read and rich in insight, personal in texture yet expansive in its lessons. Jwala’s writing achieves all of this with a clarity and sincerity that are unmistakably his own.

What stands out first is the style. The book is written in remarkably accessible prose - clean, direct, and deeply engaging. There is no pretentiousness, no complex literary scaffolding. He writes like a man who has observed life closely, lived through multiple phases of India’s administrative and political evolution, and remembered every detail with astonishing precision.

His vivid recollections from childhood in a small village to his final year as CPRO in 2023 speak to a mind endowed with both sharp memory and extraordinary awareness of context. His ability to retain and narrate decades of events with accuracy reflects not only intelligence but also a contemplative temperament that has silently documented the world around him.

This memoir is not simply a chronological journey. It is a portrait of a life shaped by hard work, humility, service, and resilience. Jwala’s path was never linear. In fact, it wound through professions that rarely intersect in a single lifetime: librarian, administrative officer, public relations professional, journalist, faculty, consultant in emergency healthcare, and eventually Chief Public Relations Officer to the first Chief Minister of Telangana. Across each role, he demonstrates a singular trait of adaptability without losing one’s values. That is easier said than done, especially in public life.

The early sections of the book, where he recounts his childhood, schooling, and initial career as a librarian, are filled with warmth and honesty. He neither glorifies nor sanitizes his beginnings. Instead, he candidly acknowledges academic struggles, early uncertainties, and the influence of individuals who shaped him.

Among the most touching narratives is his encounter with Mrs. Shahjahana Begum, the District Educational Officer who offered him his first permanent job. His gratitude toward her is enduring and heartfelt, reminding the reader how life-altering a single act of kindness and fairness can be. This theme of teachers and mentors guiding him at pivotal moments echoes throughout the book.

Jwala’s career trajectory reflects a rare combination of competence and conscience. One of the most fascinating sections is his detailed account of working in Raj Bhavan and later as PRO to Dr. Marri Channa Reddy. These chapters offer a window into governance, power, decision-making, and the delicate dance between administration and politics.

He does not shy away from describing challenges professional insecurities, political undercurrents, or attempts to undermine him, but he narrates them without bitterness. Instead, he treats setbacks as opportunities that strengthened his resolve and broadened his understanding of people and systems.

This tone of humility continues when he writes about the most transformative chapter of his professional life, his involvement in establishing and expanding emergency healthcare services. His time with EMRI (108 services) and HMRI (104 services) forms one of the most impactful portions of the memoir. Through these pages, we witness the emergence of modern emergency medical response systems in India.

His leadership in public–private partnerships, negotiations with governments across states, and coordination with multiple stakeholders displays not only administrative ability but also a deep commitment to citizen welfare. These initiatives have saved countless lives and continue to serve millions across the country. Few public careers leave such a measurable and lasting imprint.

The book also reflects the emotional and moral resilience required to navigate a profession intertwined with politics. Jwala writes about moments when his integrity was tested, when vested interests attempted to obstruct him, and when professional recognition lagged behind actual contribution.

Yet, he constantly returns to his core belief in purposeful work. His recollection of highs and lows is not a self-pitying exercise but an affirmation that meaningful careers are built not just through successes but through endurance.

His decade-long role as Chief Public Relations Officer to the first Chief Minister of Telangana, K. Chandrashekhar Rao, forms an important part of the narrative. In these chapters, he captures the birth of a new state, the formative years of its administrative identity, and the intense communication efforts required to shape public understanding during a historic phase.

His proximity to long-term policy design, governance reforms, crisis communication, and political transformation gives the memoir a special significance. It becomes not only the story of one man but also the story of Telangana and its evolution.

Perhaps the greatest strength of the book is that Jwala writes with conscience and gratitude. He remembers every superior who guided him, every colleague who supported him, every institution that shaped him, and every circumstance that tested him. This ability to credit others, even when recounting his own achievements, reflects both character and emotional maturity.

As a reader, I found the memoir deeply inspirational. It shows that one does not need a straight-line career or the privileges of elite institutions to make a meaningful contribution to society. What one needs is integrity, adaptability, a willingness to learn continuously, and the courage to stand firm in difficult times. It shows that service is not measured by titles but by the number of lives one touches, the systems one strengthens, and the values one refuses to compromise.

In conclusion, ‘Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons’ is a compelling, insightful, and beautifully honest book. It captures a life defined by purpose rather than position, by contribution rather than recognition, and by resilience rather than entitlement. For anyone interested in public life, governance, administration, or simply the story of a man who lived with dignity and served with conviction, this book is a must-read. It is not just a memoir; it is a reflection on India’s evolving systems, a tribute to mentorship, and a celebration of a life lived with intent.

Based on the breadth of his experience, depth of his service, and the clarity of his thought, it is my sincere belief that Jwala’s contributions to public health, administration, and public communication merits for consideration for yet another suitable assignment, if only he is willing to take up. His lived understanding of governance, institutions, public systems, and citizen needs would make him an invaluable voice in national policy discussions. 

Kausalya’s Journey: A Divine Love Story Across Time by Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Kausalya’s Journey 

A Divine Love Story Across Time

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(February 19, 2026)

In a previous birth, during the time of Swayambhu Manu, a sacred event unfolded on the banks of the Gomati River in Naimisharanya. Manu was engaged in deep penance, constantly chanting the twelve-syllabled mantra of Lord Vasudeva. Pleased with his devotion, Lord Srimannaarayana appeared before him and offered a boon. Manu requested that the Lord Himself be born to him as a son in three different lifetimes. The Lord agreed to this wish.

In accordance with that divine promise, when Manu was later born as King Dasharatha, the Lord incarnated as Sri Rama and became his son. When Manu took birth again in the Yadava lineage as Vasudeva, the Lord was born to him as Sri Krishna. In the third birth, destined to occur in the village of Shambhala during the fourth quarter of the Kali Yuga, Manu will incarnate as a pious Brahmin named Harivrata, and the Lord will once again be born to him, and this time as Kalki, the future avatar who restores righteousness.

Just as Manu took these three incarnations, his wife also journeyed through corresponding births. As Sushila in the ancient age, she became Kausalya when Manu was born as Dasharatha, she appeared as Devaki when he was born as Vasudeva, and she will be born as Devaprabha as the wife of Harivrata. In all three births, she becomes the mother of Lord Vishnu Himself. The village name Shambhala appears in several forms; Shambala, Sambal, Shambhala, Sambhala etc. Yet all refer to the same sacred place. In certain traditional accounts within the Bharata, Harivrata is also referred to by the name Vishnu Sharma.

Thus, across three lifetimes, the divine vow between Manu and Lord Vishnu unfolded, as Kausalya and Dasharatha in Tretha Yuga, as Devaki and Vasudeva in Dvapara Yuga, and finally as Devaprabha and Harivrata in Kali Yuga. With each incarnation, the sacred bond between mother and son, between human devotion and divine grace, revealed itself anew. It is within this sacred lineage, woven across cosmic time, that the story of Kausalya reaches its most luminous moment, that is the birth of Lord Rama.

It is no wonder, then, that the scriptures lovingly preserve the reverence with which Rama was addressed, especially by sages who recognized his divine nature. Sage Brahmarshi Vishvamitra, who guided young Rama during his early adventures (That forms part at a later stage), and while in forests with him to protect his ritual from demons, awakened him at dawn one day, with the famous verse: ‘Kausalya Supraja Rama, Purva Sandhya Pravartate, Uthishta Nara Shardoola’ meaning, ‘O Rama, noble son of Kausalya, the eastern sky is glowing with the first light of dawn; awaken, O lion among men, for the sacred duties of the morning await you.’

This was not merely a wake-up call. It was a respectful acknowledgment of Rama’s divine birth from Kausalya, a reminder of the purity of his lineage and the cosmic purpose he embodied. Vishvamitra’s words carried deep symbolism. The rising sun reflected the rising dharma that Rama would one day restore. The call to awaken was both literal and spiritual.

Across generations, this verse has continued to resonate in countless Hindu homes during early morning prayers. Chanted at dawn, it serves not only as a memory of Rama’s sacred journey but also as a universal call to all human beings, to rise each day with clarity, discipline, and renewed dedication to one’s duties. It reminds that every dawn is an opportunity to realign ourselves with purpose, purity, and the light of inner righteousness.

In the context of Kausalya’s life and destiny, these immortal words gain even deeper meaning. They affirm her role as the mother of dharma itself, the one whose womb became the vessel of a divine promise stretching across ages. The story of Kausalya is not just a tale of ancient times. It is a reminder that divine purpose often chooses to manifest through the quiet strength, devotion, and virtue of extraordinary mothers whose love shapes the very foundations of the world.

The timeless tale of Kausalya, Sri Rama’s mother, from ancient Indian lore is not just a story of royalty and destiny, but it is a beautiful narrative of faith, virtue, love, and divine purpose. When retold in contemporary language, it reflects the universal values of trust, destiny, resilience, and how love finds its way through trials. Whoever is longing to reconnect with cultural roots including a modern Indian and Non-Resident Indian reader, seeking deep meaning in tradition, this story bridges the ancient with the modern, reminding that divine plans often unfold in the most unexpected ways.

King Dasharatha’s grandfather was King Raghu, followed by his valiant and handsome son, Emperor Aja. During his youth, Aja attended the Swayamvaram (royal bride selection ceremony) of Princess Indumati of Vidarbha. She chose him as her husband, and they returned to Ayodhya. Aja ruled the kingdom with wisdom and grace, and their love blossomed. Indumati later gave birth to Dasharatha. Sadly, one day, a flower garland from the sage Narada inadvertently fell upon Indumati from the sky, fulfilling a curse. She died instantly. Relationships founded on love and respect often shape future generations. Just as Dasharatha inherited the legacy of his parents, everyone shall carry values, culture, and emotional strength passed down from their ancestors.

Unable to bear the grief, King Aja crowned his son Dasharatha as king and entered Samadhi, sacrificing his life. Now ruling Ayodhya, Dasharatha was diligent and just. Elders urged him to marry. One day, during a hunting expedition, Dasharatha's horses tired, and he arrived at Sage Atri’s ashram. The sage welcomed him and advised that household life (Grihastha ashrama) is the most fulfilling, encouraging him to marry Princess Soundaryavati of Dakshina Kosala. In today’s world too, wise mentors help guide young leaders, advising them on life partnerships, responsibilities, and balancing career with personal life.

On his return, Dasharatha visited Sage Vashistha, who introduced him to the greatness of Rama Nama, the sacred chant of Lord Rama. From that moment, Dasharatha lived with a heart full of divine contemplation, balancing royal duties with spiritual awareness. Even in busy lives, meditation, and inner peace help leaders, whether kings or CEOs, to rule wisely, remain compassionate, and make mindful decisions.

Desiring to expand his kingdom, Dasharatha set out on a military expedition. As his army reached Dakshina Kosala, he felt drawn to catch a glimpse of Princess Kausalya. Sage Vashistha suggested observing her quietly in the evening garden. That evening, Dasharatha saw Kausalya entering with her friends, graceful, serene, and radiant. He felt she was indeed his destined match. Sometimes, destiny introduces to the right person not through apps or proposals, but through meaningful, unexpected encounters that shape the lives.

King Bhanumanta of Dakshina Kosala and Queen Chandrabhaga had longed for children. They performed deep penance to Lord Vishnu, who blessed them with a daughter (Kausalya) and a son (Bhamamanta), declaring that He Himself, Shri Hari, would one day take birth as Kausalya’s son. Sage Atri later confirmed that Dasharatha was the ideal match for Kausalya, both noble, virtuous, and meant for a divine purpose. Some people do not just enter others’ lives, but they redefine them. Certain relationships have spiritual purpose, that are beyond romance, beyond destiny and they help fulfill a greater plan.

In the garden, Dasharatha and Kausalya finally met, exchanged views, and felt an instant connection. Kausalya expressed that while destiny favored their union, the king must respectfully seek her father’s permission. Meanwhile, King Bhanumanta agreed to the match and prepared for the grand wedding. Even today, love rooted in respect, family consent, and shared values establishes stronger, lasting relationships.

At that time, Ravana, the demon king, learned through Narada that this marriage was destined to bring forth Rama, who would one day defeat and kill him. Ravana vowed to prevent the wedding, and kidnapped Kausalya in her sleep, sealed in a golden casket, and handed it over to the sea. He ordered that the box be hidden from humans, Demons, Gods, Kimpurushas, Yakshas, and everyone else, and instructed that it be returned to him safely whenever he commanded it. He threatened that he would kill them if they failed to do so. Right in his presence, the Ocean King summoned a whale, warned it accordingly, and entrusted the box to it. But destiny and faith worked silently to protect Kausalya. 

Inside the golden chest, Queen Kausalya regained consciousness. She thought that someone had deceived her, trapped her inside the box, and was taking her away. She prayed. Goddess Lakshmi appeared, comforting her and assuring that, destiny cannot be halted. Meanwhile, Dasharatha's boat sank en route to the wedding destination, and he too was washed ashore on an unknown island, where destiny gently brought him near the same golden chest. When all doors seem closed, life surprises everyone with a miracle. Divine timing is never late, even if it does not match the schedule.

Dasharatha opened the chest and found Kausalya. Reunited, they shared their experiences, understanding that destiny had brought them together beyond human boundaries. At the auspicious wedding hour, celestial beings arrived, and they were divinely wedded. Their marriage was solemnized not just by humans, but by the universe itself. This wedding symbolized that, true partnerships are beyond rituals, and they are unions of purpose, soul, and cosmic alignment.

Ravana arrived the next morning to prove he had prevented the wedding, but to his shock, he saw the newlyweds emerging from the very chest he hid. Even he could not alter fate. He attempted harm, but his virtuous brother Vibhishana prevented him from committing sin. Ravana returned, defeated not by war, but by divine truth. Evil may try to sabotage truth, but truth finds its pathway, quietly, powerfully, and inevitably.

The divine bird Jatayu appeared and carried the couple safely back to Ayodhya. On hearing the news of their arrival, the kingdom rejoiced, celebrating not just a royal wedding, but the union blessed to bring forth Lord Rama, the embodiment of righteousness. In time, Dasharatha also married Sumitra and Kaikeyi, and the great epic of Ramayana began to unfold. The love of Dasharatha and Kausalya was not just personal, it was foundational to the world's spiritual evolution. It reminds that, Love, when aligned with Purpose, becomes Divine.

When Dasharatha and Kausalya finally reached Ayodhya, carried by the divine bird Jatayu, the entire kingdom erupted in joy. Ministers, Scholars, Soldiers, and Common Citizens gathered in colorful celebration, filling the air with music, flowers, and festive chants. The news reached King Bhanumanta, father of Kausalya, who immediately traveled to Ayodhya, blessed the newlyweds, and joyfully stayed for a while before returning to his kingdom.

In due course, though Dasharatha married Sumitra and Kaikeyi, completing his royal household, in everyone's hearts, it was clear that, Kausalya was the queen destined to become the mother of Lord Rama, the light of dharma. Modern Meaning: Some relationships are not just personal, but they carry generational impact. The union of Dasharatha and Kausalya did not just lead to happiness in their home. It shaped the spiritual destiny of the world. (According to Andhra Valmiki Vasudasa Swamy Telugu Book ‘ Kausalya Parinayam’)

(PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY AN ANONYMOUS RAMA BHAKTA)

CELESTIAL MARRIAGES AND THEIR BEGETTING CHILDREN ...... A SEQUENTIAL SYNTHESIS : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 CELESTIAL MARRIAGES AND 

THEIR BEGETTING CHILDREN

A SEQUENTIAL SYNTHESIS

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(February 18, 2026)

Frequently I become inquisitive and start questioning myself, Spiritual Experts, and Exponents, eliciting clarification on Marriages of the ‘Trimurti’ whether they were performed in accordance with the Vedic Marriage Procedure, and also about their begetting children. Vedic Marriage Ritual (Vivaha Samskara) as described in Asvalayana, Paraskara, Baudhayana Grihya Sutras, and Rig Veda Vivaha Sukta which includes, Vara-Aagamana (Groom’s Arrival), Kanya Dana, Panigrahana (Holding of Hands), Saptapadi (Seven Steps), Homa (Sacred Fire), Mangala Sutra Mantras etc. seldom observed for them. 

The three cosmic functions: Creation, Preservation, and Dissolution, according to Hindu theology, are personified in Brahma (Srishti), Vishnu (Sthiti), and Shiva (Samhara), as the ‘Trimurti ’Concept.’ Though this was elaborated primarily in Puranas, it had its philosophical roots in Vedic and Upaniṣadic Thought. However, Rig Veda praises Vishnu’s Supreme Stride. Narayana Sukta of Taithraya Aranyaka describes Narayana as the Supreme Being. According to Advaita Vedanta, all three are manifestations of one Supreme Reality that is, Brahman: ‘Ekam Sat Vipra Bahudha Vadanti’ or ‘Truth is One, but Sages call It by various names.’

The scriptural origin (Birth) of Lord Maha Vishnu, as recorded in most Vaishnava Traditions is ‘Beginningless and Eternal.’ Bhagavata Purana describes Mahavishnu lying on the causal ocean. Thus, Vishnu is not born, but became the source of creation. Lord Brahma too had a Cosmic Birth at the start of each Kalpa (Mythical Era). According to the Bhagavata and Vishnu Puranas, from Lord Vishnu’s Navel emerged a Lotus, as the Birth Place of Brahma. He performed Meditation before beginning the Creation. Lord Shiva’s Birth in Vedas is also equally similar. Shiva is identified with Rudra in Rig Veda and Puranas. He is often described as Self-Born (Swayambhu). In Shiva Purana, he manifests as an Infinite Pillar of Light (Lingodbhava).

Trimurti’s marriages were broadly ‘Theological Union’ and not a narrated Vedic Ritual Marriage. Nowhere, there is an explicit description of Vedic Rites, mention of Kanyadaan, Panigrahana, Saptapadi, or Homa etc. The union is portrayed as a cosmic divine reunion, an eternal philosophical pairing. The essence is that, the Divine Marriages in our Puranas were Symbolic, Cosmological, and Theological Narratives. There is also no early Vedic textual evidence stating that Vishnu or Brahma underwent a Vedic Marriage Ritual.

For instance, Goddess Lakshmi emerged during the churning of the ocean (Samudra Manthana) according to Vishnu, Bhagavata Puranas, and Mahabharata. After being adorned by the devas, Lakshmi chose Lord Visnu as her eternal consort. Since then, she resides eternally with Vishnu in Vaikuntha. Her emergence, self-choice, garlanding Vishnu, and to be with Vishnu, at the most can be viewed as an Academic Observation.

Lord Brahma’s wife Goddess Saraswati is often described as emerging from Brahma Himself, as a narrative context in Matsya, Brahma, Padma Puranas. Manifesting as Brahma’s Shakti, the Power of Knowledge, she became his Consort. There is no mention of a structured Vedic Wedding Ceremony. It is also often portrayed Saraswati being the emanation of Brahma as Knowledge. In many accounts the relationship is metaphysical rather than ritualistic.

Shiva’s first Consort was Daksha’s daughter Sati, who immolates herself at a ceremony for not inviting her husband. Sati was then reborn as Parvati as the daughter of ‘Himavat and Mainavati. Lord Shiva Marriage with Goddess Parvati was performed procedurally. The story is found in Shiva, Skanda Puranas, and Kalidasa’s Kumara Sambhavam. Parvati Kanda in Rudra Samhita, narrates about Himavat giving away his daughter Parvati in marriage to Shiva, in the presence of Devatas and Rishis amidst recitation of Mantras. Some literary or scholarly works stated that, Lord Brahma officiated the marriage rites as the Priest and Lord Vishnu as Guardian Figure.

The priestly involvement in Shiva, Parvati marriage could be a literary ritualization. From the viewpoint of Hindu Social Ritual Development, perhaps, their wedding functions as a mythic prototype for later Hindu Marriage Ideals. Maha Shivratri commemorates the divine union of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati, symbolizing the harmony of consciousness and devotion. This sacred marriage represents inner balance, where discipline, surrender, and grace come together on the spiritual path. Shiva-Parvati Union in Shaiva Tradition and Lakshmi-Narayana Union in Vaishnava Tradition is believed Supreme. Divine Wedding is a temple ritual reenacting the celestial marriage of a deity and consort, which is equally prominent in Shaiva and Vaishnava temples. It is believed that this practice is rooted in Agama Literature and Puranic Narrative Theology.

For instance, it is celebrated at Tirumala Venkateswara Temple, where Vishnu Incarnation Lord Venkateshwara or Srinivasa is ritually married to both Sridevi and Bhoodevi. At Bhadrachalam Sri Sitarama Swamy Temple, atypical situation prevails. The Annual Majestic Ritual of Sri Sita Rama Kalyanam, or the divine marriage of Rama and Sita, to the Proxy Icons (Utsav Vigrahas), of late, has been transformed as Ramanarayana Kalyanam!!!

Initially referring to the Bride and Groom as Sita and Rama, few minutes before actual Muhurta, they are called as, Laxmi and Ramanarayana in their place. Their ancestral lineage (Pravara and Gotra) is also being changed transforming them to Brahmins from Kshatriyas. The original Puranic account of Laksmi choosing Vishnu does not describe such a ritual ceremony, yet temple tradition follows this. Kalayanotsavam is not a historical repetition of an original Vedic Wedding of the deity. It is a ritual embodiment of Puranic myth within temple culture.

Coming to begetting children, generally, Vishnu is not emphasized as a progenitor in Puranic theology. However, Kama (in some traditions) is said to be born from Vishnu. He had several incarnations. Though the Ten Incarnations (Dashavatara) are popular, Bhagavatam recorded 21 incarnations of Lord Vishnu. Brahma however created the Prajapatis, Manasa Putras or the Mind Born Sons as part of creation, which unfolds in stages. Lord Shiva had two children Ganesha and Kartikeya or Skanda. Children were rarely emphasized for Indra, Yama, Varuna, Agni, Surya etc.

In the early Vedic Period, detailed narratives of divine marriages and pregnancy-based divine offspring were not prominent features of the textual record. They appear in later mythology. Their absence in early Vedic hymns does not make later developments irrational. It indicates historical evolution of religious imagination, as symbolic-theological constructs. They are rational within their mythic framework and not intended as biological propositions. Later literature, and temple traditions, elaborated richly on divine weddings and family structures. The question, therefore, is how should we evaluate them, as rational or irrational.

The Rigveda, attests to human marriage as a recognized and sanctified institution. The ritual invokes Agni as witness, blesses the bride for prosperity and progeny, and integrates her into the husband’s household. Marriage at this stage was a domestic sacrament tied to lineage continuity and ritual obligation. Similarly, early Vedic Depictions of deities emphasize cosmic function rather than biological family structure. Human pregnancy was certainly known and assumed in society, but divine pregnancy narratives were not central to early Vedic theology.

The key to evaluating rationality lies in distinguishing explanatory domains. Mythological narratives operate within symbolic and theological logic rather than empirical biology. When Shiva and Parvati unite, the imagery signifies the convergence of consciousness and energy. When Lakshmi and Narayana are paired, prosperity is shown as inseparable from preservation. When Brahma’s sons are described as mind-born, the symbolism conveys intellectual and cosmic projection. These are metaphysical insights articulated through narrative form.

Labeling divine marriage or pregnancy narratives as irrational would thus constitute a category error. They were never intended as biological hypotheses or historical reportage. Their function is symbolic theology, ethical modeling, and cultural sacralization. Early Vedic religion primarily emphasized cosmic order and sacrificial structure. Later Puranic religion conveyed the same metaphysical principles through relational, familial, and devotional imagery. The difference is expressive mode, not philosophical contradiction. Viewed sequentially, this evolution becomes intelligible. Divine marriage and pregnancy-based narratives should neither be subjected to laboratory standards nor dismissed as irrational constructs.

(PHOTOGRAPHS COURTESY AN ANONYMOUS RAMA BHAKTA)

KCR displayed Churchillian Equanimity Despite Electoral Defeat: By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao (Former CPRO to Former CM KCR)

 HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU KCR SIR

KCR displayed Churchillian Equanimity Despite Electoral Defeat

In Governance, KCR’s Mind was both Creative and Disciplined

‘Making a Difference’ is the Defining Signature of KCR’s Public Life

By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

(Former CPRO to Former CM KCR)

February 17, 2026

These reflections arise from close observation and lived experience during a defining phase in the history of Telangana. They are offered with deep respect for Kalvakuntla Chandrashekhar Rao, a leader of rare intellectual depth, political courage, and unwavering commitment to the idea of Telangana. What follows is not merely recollection, but an attempt to record how vision, resolve, and governance converged to shape a people’s destiny.

After stepping away from the CMO, I realized that KCR’s greatest strength lay in his capacity to internalize history and convert it into political strategy. He carried Telangana not as a slogan, but as a responsibility inherited from leaders like Channa Reddy, and from countless unnamed participants of the movement. In that sense, the creation of Telangana was not an accident of politics, but the culmination of a memory that refused to fade.

Looking back now, with the privilege of distance, I remain convinced that Telangana would not have materialized without KCR, just as it would not have been imagined without Channa Reddy. History needed both, the first to articulate the dream, the second to complete it. What I witnessed from close quarters was the quiet dialogue between those two legacies, unfolding across decades, and finally finding resolution.

It feels necessary to step back from chronology and event‑listing, and instead attempt what is far more difficult yet far more truthful: a holistic understanding of K Chandrashekhar Rao as a political personality, administrator, and statesman, as I observed him from close quarters during nearly a decade of association. What follows is not hagiography, nor a rebuttal to criticism, but a reflective assessment grounded in lived experience, observation, and long engagement with public life.

The formation of Telangana was not the achievement of a single individual alone; it was the culmination of decades of sacrifice by countless unnamed participants and unsung heroes. Yet history often turns on the final phase of struggle, and in that decisive phase, KCR’s leadership was extraordinary. What distinguished him was not merely perseverance, but strategy.

KCR intuitively understood that emotional movements must eventually be translated into constitutional outcomes. His success in persuading thirty‑three political parties, placing the Congress in power and the BJP in opposition at that time, in effect, left the national political system with no alternative but to concede statehood. This was not agitation alone; it was political craftsmanship.

Once statehood was achieved, KCR consciously shifted roles: from movement leader to statesman. His first address to the Telangana State Legislative Assembly, in which he formally placed on record gratitude to Sonia Gandhi, Rajnath Singh, and all supporting parties, revealed a rare quality in contemporary politics: acknowledgment without insecurity. This ability to rise above partisan bitterness and locate himself within a larger historical continuum marked the beginning of his statesman‑like phase.

Intellectually, KCR was never a single‑school thinker. One could see in him a synthesis of multiple influences: the soul of Dr Marri Channa Reddy in matters of Telangana identity, Jawaharlal Nehru’s emphasis on institutions and Panchayati Raj, PV Narasimha Rao’s reformist pragmatism, Lee Kuan Yew’s uncompromising commitment to outcomes, and, at times, Winston Churchill’s steely resolve in adversity. These were not borrowed slogans but internalized reference points, shaping his decisions consciously and subconsciously.

His fascination with Lee Kuan Yew’s transformation of Singapore was particularly revealing. KCR did not seek to replicate Singapore mechanically, rather, he sought to apply its underlying principles, clean administration, long‑term planning, and inclusive growth, within Telangana’s democratic and social context. His emphasis on strengthening villages, empowering Panchayati Raj institutions, and transforming rural Telangana into a clean, green, and economically viable space reflected this adapted vision. He believed that urban growth without rural prosperity would remain fragile.

In governance, KCR’s mind was both creative and disciplined. He consistently demonstrated what might be called ‘out‑of‑the‑box pragmatism.’ Schemes such as Rythu Bandhu, Rythu Bima, the survey and settlement of land records, Dharani, Dalit Bandhu, sheep distribution, two‑bedroom housing, and Rythu Vedikas were not isolated welfare measures but parts of a coherent strategy to strengthen the rural economy, restore dignity to the farmer, and create circulating wealth at the grassroots. Economist Arvind Subramanian’s description of land record reform as the ‘heart of good governance’ found practical expression in Telangana under KCR.

What impressed many national and international observers, but often went unnoticed in popular discourse, was KCR’s fiscal and administrative restraint. Even within months of assuming office, when Fourteenth Finance Commission Chairman Dr YV Reddy publicly appreciated KCR’s integrity and resource‑mobilization vision, it was evident that Telangana’s first Chief Minister consciously avoided projecting victimhood. He presented Telangana as a resource‑rich state with potential, not as a perpetually aggrieved entity. This restraint strengthened credibility.

KCR’s participation and his engagement at the World Economic Forum’s Annual Meeting of New Champions in China in 2015 revealed a facet of his leadership that was often underappreciated at home: his comfort with global economic discourse and his confidence in positioning Telangana, and India, within it. Speaking on ‘Emerging Markets at Crossroads,’ he neither indulged in populist nationalism nor criticized the Union Government on an international platform. Instead, he defended India’s economic reforms, endorsed China’s developmental trajectory as a learning experience, and positioned Telangana confidently within the global investment landscape.

In a few extempore minutes, backed by extensive preparation, he conveyed the mindset of a national and global leader, not merely a regional one. What distinguished KCR at that forum was not rhetoric, but clarity of conviction. In a brief, extempore intervention, he articulated India’s federal strength, the growing role of states in economic transformation, and the logic behind devolved governance. He spoke of ‘Team India’ not as a slogan, but as an operational reality: Prime Minister and Chief Ministers working together as equal stakeholders in national growth. It was a framing that resonated in an international setting accustomed to centralized narratives.

Equally striking was his refusal to indulge in defensive nationalism. At a time when global economies were anxious, KCR calmly asserted that India was not at a crossroads. He acknowledged global uncertainties, openly endorsed China’s developmental trajectory as a learning model, and emphasized reform, infrastructure investment, and inclusive growth as India’s path forward. This ability to appreciate others’ successes without insecurity reflected a mature, confident statesman.

When he spoke of Telangana, it was not with emotional pride, but with policy precision. The Single Window Industrial Policy, made a statutory right rather than an administrative promise, was presented as evidence of a new governance mindset. His phrase that Telangana’s single window was ‘Without Grills’ captured, in one stroke, the essence of administrative accountability and investor confidence.

What impressed global leaders was not the length of his speech, but its economy. Every sentence carried preparation behind it. As I observed closely, that apparent spontaneity was the product of rigorous internal discussions, data-backed clarity, and an acute awareness that, on such platforms, the Chief Minister speaks not merely as an individual, but as a brand ambassador of both state and country.

In retrospect, that WEF engagement symbolized KCR’s larger approach to leadership: rooted locally, informed historically, but articulated globally. He never saw Telangana as an inward-looking project. He saw it as a confident participant in the world economy, self-assured enough to invite comparison, learning, and partnership. That global poise, quietly practiced rather than loudly advertised, remains one of the most defining impressions of his leadership.

Administratively, KCR’s style was often misunderstood. He was firm, sometimes uncompromising, but rarely arbitrary. In review meetings, irrespective of hierarchy, he listened attentively, asked penetrating questions, and subtly guided rather than dictated. Implementation was left to domain experts, but accountability was non‑negotiable. His belief was simple: politics was a task, not a game. Compromise was acceptable when it served public interest, but dilution of core objectives was not.

History is often unkind in the short term. Like Winston Churchill, who led Britain to victory in World War II only to face electoral defeat soon after, KCR too experienced the paradox of governance: achievement does not always translate into immediate electoral reward. Yet KCR himself appeared philosophically prepared for this. He treated triumph and disaster with near‑equanimity, believing that failure is often only suspended success.

As I conclude this chapter, I remain convinced that ‘making a difference’ is the defining signature of KCR’s public life. Whether in movement politics, governance, or national articulation, he altered the trajectory of Telangana in ways that will endure beyond electoral cycles. The Telangana Development and Welfare Model he placed before the nation deserves objective study, critical refinement, and continuity, irrespective of which party governs.

Underlying all these dimensions was a deeper philosophical conviction that guided KCR’s public life, that, extraordinary individuals alone make a decisive difference at critical historical moments. He appeared to subscribe instinctively to George Bernard Shaw’s belief that while ordinary people adapt to the world, extraordinary individuals adapt the world to themselves. This was evident in his approach to governance, where politics was never treated as a game of tactics, but as a task demanding moral clarity, institutional strength, and long-term outcomes.

His emphasis on land reforms and survey–settlement represented, in that sense, a second dawn of structural reform comparable to the transformative phase associated with PV Narasimha Rao. Equally telling was his conscious effort to strengthen Panchayati Raj institutions, recalling Jawaharlal Nehru’s conviction: shaped through SK Dey, that, real democracy must be anchored in empowered villages. KCR’s practice of inviting eminent Telanganites from national and global institutions to serve the state reflected this same institution-building instinct.

His admiration for Lee Kuan Yew was not about emulation, but about foundational leadership. Just as Singapore’s transformation is inseparable from its founding father, KCR’s imprint on Telangana is foundational rather than episodic. Schemes such as Dalit Bandhu and the Sheep Distribution Program were conceived not as welfare, but as instruments of durable wealth creation, restoring agency and dignity to historically marginalized communities.

Even in electoral defeat, KCR displayed a Churchillian equanimity, that, understanding that governance and history do not always move in electoral synchrony, and that failure is often only suspended success. For him, triumph and disaster were to be treated alike, without cynicism or self-pity. This is why the Telangana Development and Welfare Model he articulated deserves continuity and refinement irrespective of the party in power, for it represents not a partisan experiment, but a statesman’s attempt to alter the developmental trajectory of a society.

Time will deliver its final verdict. My purpose here is more modest: to record, as faithfully as memory and conscience permit, the portrait of a leader who understood his state like the back of his palm, carried history within him, and governed with a rare blend of vision, resolve, and restraint. In that sense, this chapter does not merely end a professional phase; it closes a long arc of observation, learning, and witness.

{{From my Forthcoming Book

PROFESSIONS, CHECKERED CAREER, AND LESSONS

(From Librarian to CPRO to CM KCR)

A Journey from Khangi School to Center for Excellence}}