Saturday, September 19, 2026

From Continuity to a More Inclusive Conversation >>>>> 26th Friday Evening Team Meeting (FETE) : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 From Continuity to a More Inclusive Conversation

26th Friday Evening Team Meeting (FETE)

September 18, 2026: Press Club Hyderabad

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

The Twenty-Sixth Friday Evening Meeting at the Press Club Hyderabad was somewhat different from the twenty-five gatherings that preceded it. The intervening Vinayak Chavithi-Navaratri holiday period meant that many of the regular participants were away, and therefore the gathering was necessarily smaller. Yet, the character of the evening remained very much within the spirit of what has gradually come to be known as the Friday Evening Team, or FETE.

Among those who participated were senior journalists and long-time friends Amar Devulapalli, Lalita Iyer and BS Ramakrishna, along with Dr Bharath and myself. There was no attempt to recreate the elaborate, focused discussions of some of the earlier Fridays, nor was there any sense that a smaller gathering constituted a break in continuity. Instead, the evening became an opportunity to pause, look back at what had evolved during the first twenty-five meetings, and think quietly about where the initiative could go from here.

In that sense, the 26th meeting was less about a particular subject and more about the idea itself: what happens when a simple weekly conversation is allowed to continue long enough to acquire its own character, memory, relationships and methodology. Looking back, the journey from the first Friday to the twenty-sixth has been neither linear nor deliberately programmed.

The meetings began with a simple desire to bring together a few like-minded friends, exchange experiences, recall professional journeys and preserve memories that might otherwise disappear with time. Gradually, however, the conversations moved beyond memoirs. Journalism, public communication, administration, governance, democratic institutions, electoral processes, constitutional questions, social movements, technology, culture, history and even civilizational thought entered the conversation naturally.

Some evenings had distinguished guests; some produced unexpected recollections; some were driven by contemporary developments; others were lighter, humorous and almost entirely spontaneous. What remained constant was the method: conversation rather than presentation, participation rather than performance, questioning rather than assertion, and reflection rather than immediate reaction.

The document of the earlier meetings itself records this evolution: from memory into dialogue, from dialogue into collective reflection, and from reflection into an emerging public resource. The 26th get-together therefore need not be measured by the quantity of discussion. Its significance lies in recognizing that continuity does not mean every meeting must look alike.

The exchange among the participants this time, logically turned towards strengthening the methodology and taking the concept forward in a more systematic manner without allowing it to become unnecessarily formal. There was a shared understanding that the strength of these Friday Evenings has always been their informality, with no chairperson presiding over a conference, no fixed speaker occupying the centre, no compulsion to reach a fixed conclusion and no requirement that everyone should agree.

At the same time, the experience of twenty-five meetings suggests that informality need not mean randomness. A light-touch methodology could help the conversations become more purposeful while retaining their freedom. One possibility is to continue beginning with a broad contemporary issue, allow participants to bring their own experiences and perspectives, and then permit the conversation to travel wherever informed curiosity takes it.

Another is to maintain a gentle continuity between meetings, so that an issue raised on one Friday can reappear, develop or be reconsidered on another. Such an approach would preserve the essential character of FETE while giving the evolving process a stronger internal coherence. The earlier meetings have already shown that conversations often continue beyond a single evening and mature through repetition, participation and reflection.

An equally important thought concerns participation. From the beginning, these gatherings were never intended to become a closed circle of a few familiar faces. The earlier record repeatedly reflects the desire to widen the circle, bring in new voices and invite people with different professional experiences. The next phase could therefore consciously encourage greater participation by members of the Press Club Hyderabad who find value in such conversations.

This need not be through formal invitations or an organised membership system. The strength of the idea has always been that people come because they wish to participate, listen or contribute. Senior journalists, younger colleagues, former professionals, communication specialists, administrators, academics, lawyers, technologists, writers, artists, social workers, entrepreneurs and people from other walks of public life can each bring a different window through which the same contemporary reality may be viewed.

The objective is not to increase numbers merely for the sake of numbers. It is to increase the range of experience around the table. A larger conversation becomes meaningful not when more people speak, but when more perspectives become available for consideration. This assumes greater significance at a time when the country and the State are moving through a particularly rapid pace of developments.

Public institutions, technology, media, economy, social relations, political communication and citizen expectations are changing simultaneously. Information reaches people almost instantly, but understanding does not necessarily travel at the same speed. Social media can bring an event before millions within minutes, yet the context surrounding that event may remain fragmented. Opinions are often formed before facts are fully examined, and conversations can quickly become positions.

It is precisely in such an environment that a space for patient conversation acquires value. The purpose of the Friday evenings is not to compete with television debates, social-media commentary or formal seminars. It is almost the opposite: to create a small space in which people can slow down, ask questions, hear experiences different from their own and examine developments without the immediate pressure of taking a side.

The earlier meetings have repeatedly emphasized understanding over advocacy, multiple perspectives over simplistic conclusions, and informed judgment over the expectation of unanimity. That principle may become even more relevant as the speed and intensity of public discourse continue to increase. There is also a larger democratic and professional value in preserving such a space.

Journalism, at its best, has always depended upon questioning, verification, context, diversity of viewpoints and the ability to listen even when one does not agree. The Press Club, by its very nature, is more than a physical facility for journalists. It can also serve as a meeting point where professional memory, public experience and contemporary thought intersect.

The earlier Friday evenings have demonstrated how a recollection about an old newsroom can illuminate a present professional question; how an administrative experience can explain an institutional problem; how a historical episode can provide context for a current development; and how a guest from another field can challenge assumptions that journalists may unconsciously carry.

The idea is therefore not to create another forum where people speak to those who already think alike. It is to create a forum where like-mindedness means a shared willingness to listen, examine and converse, even when conclusions differ. ‘Agree to disagree’ has already emerged as part of the spirit of these gatherings, leaving room for disagreement without making disagreement the purpose of the meeting.

The 26th meeting also suggested that the evolving methodology may benefit from a conscious balance between continuity and expansion. Continuity gives the initiative its identity; expansion gives it relevance. One without the other could weaken the idea. If participation remains confined to a small group, the conversation may gradually become repetitive. If expansion becomes the principal objective, the intimacy and freedom that made the meetings meaningful may disappear.

The middle path, therefore, could be to retain the familiar core while continuously introducing new participants and occasional guests who bring knowledge, experience or a different perspective. Some meetings may focus on a contemporary issue; others may feature a person whose professional journey deserves to be heard; some may revisit an earlier discussion in the light of new developments; and some may simply allow conversation to flow.

The documentation can continue alongside this process, not as a rigid record of proceedings, but as a way of preserving significant ideas, experiences and reflections. In this manner, the evolving methodology can remain flexible enough for spontaneity and disciplined enough for continuity. It would be an organic strengthening rather than a formal restructuring.

Ultimately, the significance of the Twenty-Sixth Friday Evening Meeting may lie precisely in its modesty.

A smaller gathering during a holiday period did not interrupt the journey; it provided an opportunity to think about the journey itself. Twenty-five meetings have demonstrated that continuity can create something that no single meeting can create: familiarity without hierarchy, trust without obligation, disagreement without hostility, and memory that gradually becomes collective.

The next stage may therefore be neither a programme nor an organisation, but a more conscious culture of conversation at the Press Club Hyderabad: one that welcomes participation, invites experience, accommodates disagreement, encourages thoughtful questioning and remains open to people from different walks of life. At a time when developments are moving rapidly and public conversation is often compressed into immediate reactions, such spaces can offer a necessary pause: not a withdrawal from public life, but a more considered engagement with it.

If the first phase of the Friday evenings was about ‘Meet, Reflect, Share and Continue,’ perhaps the next phase can add four more words: ‘Include, Examine, Connect and Evolve.’ The destination need not be predetermined. The value lies in continuing the journey together, conversation by conversation, perspective by perspective, with the simple conviction that a society which continues to talk to itself thoughtfully is better placed to understand its present and prepare for its future.

Personally, I remain deeply confident that this journey will continue to grow in both spirit and substance. The enthusiasm, cooperation and genuine willingness among participants to share experiences and exchange knowledge have already created a rare sense of collective ownership.

Equally heartening is the warmth with which every guest, irrespective of who introduces or invites them, is received and treated as a personal guest of the entire group, with every little courtesy and protocol that an invitee naturally expects.

This culture of openness, friendship and mutual respect gives me great optimism that the Friday Evenings will continue to evolve, widen their horizons and become an enduring tradition of meaningful conversation, shared wisdom and collective enrichment.

Friday, September 18, 2026

My TENTH JOB AS LEAD PARTNER AND CONSULTANT IN EMRI-2 >>>> Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons-14 : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 My TENTH JOB AS LEAD PARTNER 

AND CONSULTANT IN EMRI-2

With Satyam Computers Ramalinga Raju 

and CEO Venkat Changavalli

Professions, Checkered Career, and Lessons-14

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao 

(September 19, 2026)

EMRI (Emergency Management and Research Institute) Ambulances were designed keeping in view Patient care, Public Safety and Attendants comfort. It had the unique features like low loading height easy to load an automatic loading stretcher, economic fuel consumption, turbo engine, adequate space for patient compartment, turning radius most suitable for Indian conditions etc. Its Fabrication with Fiber Reinforced Plastic (FRP) ensured Thermoregulation, Fire Resistance, Noise Regulation.

Its space management design ensured adequate space in patient cabin, safety mechanism with help of restrains, locking mechanism for all equipment, avoiding sharp edges. Enough provision was made for waste disposal for bio and non-bio hazardous.

           Before my joining EMRI, the Erstwhile Government of Andhra Pradesh (AP), as part of ‘National Rural Health Mission-NRHM’ piloted in four districts REHTS (Rural Emergency Health Transport Services) and 122 ambulances were deployed, with NGOs operating them, from government funding.

In addition to REHTS, Government also recognized EMRI, as the State Level Nodal Agency to provide comprehensive emergency response across the state, in PPP and signed Memorandum of Understanding (MoU) on 2nd April 2005. The MoU defined the roles and responsibilities of each of them without any financial commitment from the Government.

                  Government thought of expanding the Scheme to the other 18 (Rural) districts.

At the same time almost, EMRI was planning to expand its services to rural areas, having launched the originally planned 79 ambulances, and had no clue as to how to advance. Meanwhile I joined as Lead Partner (PPP) in EMRI. The Commissioner Family Welfare who was to take a decision about REHTS expansion at that time was a committed IAS Officer CBS Venkataramana.

The number of ambulances to be rolled as part of REHTS expansion was 310. I with the support of CEO and Chairman took up the responsibility of convincing CBS to entrust the ambulances to EMRI.

Correspondence from either side eventually resulted, thanks to the proactive role of CBS, the then Chief Secretary J Harinarayan, and timely counselling of Dr AP Ranga Rao (Who among few was in the EMRI conceptual team), in the state government deciding to utilize the services of the EMRI, as the State Level Nodal Agency for operationalizing the balance of the 310 ambulances under the scheme on mutually agreed terms and conditions.

Accordingly, the 2nd MoU with the Government of AP (Erstwhile) was signed on 22nd September 2006. That was the first Major Step in the future Nationwide Expansion, and it gave me then an immense satisfaction, and sustained till now.

This was preceded by a unique Advisory Council Meeting to formalize the contents of MoU, on September 21, 2006, chaired by Chief Secretary J Harinarayan and attended by 12 other senior most IAS officers representing various departments, and that was the importance given to the EMRI 108 service then. From EMRI in addition to CEO Venkat, four others including me attended the meeting.

Subsequently in addition to the 310, the earlier 122 ambulances, through another MoU, the third was signed on October 5, 2007. Thus, by then including the 70 Ambulances owned by EMRI, the total number increased to 502. That was unimaginable and formidable then, and in it I contributed my share.

Friendship and contacts mattered more than power, notwithstanding the aspect of either convince the person in authority or get convinced (PR Concept), but do not leave anything half way through. I still remember how beyond hierarchy, whether I was in the government or outside, Commissioner CBS Venkataramana and Chief Secretary Harinarayan used to call me for clarifications before finally approving the MoUs. That was how bureaucracy looked at easing things then!

Later days another senior IAS Officer PK Agarwal as Health Principal Secretary also was of the same nature and with the same kindness. I learnt there a lot from them. What it was only Rs. 68,700/- per month per ambulance during the financial year 2007-2008, that the Government would bear, in due course had increased to 95% of actual total cost, including the expenses for other logistics, leaving the responsibility of just incurring 5% cost by EMRI.

In all these negotiations I was actively involved (Sudhakar Nukala too) and but for PK Agarwal nothing would have taken a final shape.  

In due course Government agreed to provide autonomy and operational freedom to EMRI, another landmark decision in favor of EMRI. It was also agreed in principle to expand the capacity of EMRI and a revised MoU was signed on May 5, 2008 and accordingly Government committed to provide, Rs.1,12,499/- towards its 95% share per ambulance per month.

I remember the day long discussions with PK Agarwal in his chambers, prior to this, deliberating on each and every minute aspect, trying to convincing each other, and getting convinced, and eventually arriving at the figure. Thus, from Zero contribution from government, EMRI was able to secures 95% contribution, and I claim my part of credit.

{{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}}

A Historic Intersection of Tradition, Modernity, and Sacred Literary Artistry: The Eternal Flow of Intellect : Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 A Historic Intersection of 

Tradition, Modernity, and Sacred Literary Artistry 

The Eternal Flow of Intellect

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao (September 18, 2026) 

The historic city of Hyderabad: traditionally revered as Bhagya Nagar, became the luminous epicentre of a timeless cultural renaissance on Friday, the September 18, 2026, marking the commencement of an extraordinary three-day ‘Shatavadhana Literary Festival.’ Hosted within the serene and spiritually charged precincts of Sri Jagadguru Shankaracharya Pushpagiri Mahasamsthanam in Begumpet, this rare event stands out as a unique and exclusive celebration dedicated entirely to the pristine classical heritages of the Telugu and Sanskrit languages.

The choice of venue carries a deep historical resonance, mirroring the majestic lineage of Adi Shankaracharya and providing a sanctuary where intellectual rigor seamlessly blends with spiritual devotion. Set against the sacred backdrop of the Chatur Masya observance and the vibrant, auspicious festivities of Vinayaka Navaratri, the inaugural ceremony hummed with an invisible cosmic energy, drawing scholars, enthusiasts, and seekers into a unified celebration of India's classical knowledge systems.

It was within this elevated atmosphere that the literary platform was formally named after Kolachala Mallinatha Suri, the legendary 14th Century Sanskrit Scholar and commentator whose masterful analysis breathed eternal life into the Pancha Mahakavyas. By honoring his memory, the organizers established a profound continuity between the golden age of classical critique and contemporary literary pursuits, signaling to the world that India’s Intellectual Traditionalism remains not a relic of the past, but a living, breathing reality.

At the heart of this magnificent literary festival is a brilliant prodigy whose very life trajectory challenges the modern dichotomy between technological advancement and traditional classical training. Young Nallan Chakravarthula Sahith, embarking confidently on his monumental first-ever Shatavadhana, represents the vanguard of a new generation of Indian intellectuals who refuse to choose between the future and their roots. Having already mastered 28 Ashtavadhanas and two half-Shatavadhanas with exemplary success, Sahith approaches this supreme test of intellect not as an amateur, but as a seasoned practitioner of an incredibly demanding art form.

What makes his profile truly extraordinary is his formidable academic background, holding both a Bachelor’s and a Master’s degree from the prestigious (IIT) Indian Institute of Technology, Kharagpur, where he specialized in Artificial Intelligence, Machine Learning, and Natural Language Processing. Parallelly, through sheer dedication and intrinsic genius, he pursued a deep expertise in classical Telugu poetry and the intricate, multi-layered nuances of Avadhana.

Achieving such a rare feat at an exceptionally young age underscores a profound truth about the human mind: that the algorithmic precision required to program artificial neural networks is beautifully compatible with the rigorous, mathematical meters of classical Sanskrit and Telugu prosody. The orchestrators behind this profound gathering are the eminent Marumamula Brothers, Venkata Ramana Sharma and Dattatreya Sharma, whose spiritual and literary pursuits have long been channeled through Darshanam, a highly revered spiritual Telugu Magazine that has championed cultural preservation for over two decades.

Their visionary efforts received the ultimate spiritual validation through the benevolent blessings of Jagadguru Shrimad Abhinavoddanda Vidyashankara Bharati Maha Swamiji, whose distant presence infused the proceedings with a sublime sense of purpose. The process of Shatavadhana itself is a thrilling, high-wire intellectual performance where the Avadhani must simultaneously confront and resolve complex literary challenges posed by a panel of a hundred demanding questioners, known as Prucchakas.

Over the course of three consecutive days, Sahith will engage in Samasya Purana, where he must complete complicated poetic riddles, and Datta Padi, which requires constructing spontaneous verses using highly unrelated or restrictive words given by the panel. He must deliver extempore poetical recitations under strict grammatical constraints while adhering perfectly to the complex laws of Chandassu, or classical prosody (Absolutely unknown to any other language), alongside several other highly taxing literary variations.

The unqualified zenith of this festival will be the concluding Dharana Session, a magnificent feat of memory where the Avadhani must recall, reminisce, and flawlessly reproduce every single stanza he composed over the entire three days in the exact order requested, without a single note or prompt. The inaugural session was further elevated by the distinguished presence of the Chief Guest, Ashwini Kumar Choubey, a veteran leader of the Bharatiya Janata Party, a former Union Minister of State across vital portfolios including Environment, Forest, Climate Change, and Consumer Affairs, and an esteemed member of the 17th Lok Sabha.

Beyond his illustrious political and administrative career, Choubey is widely recognized for his deeply rooted spiritual pursuits, making his participation in a festival of this nature profoundly fitting. The organizers and participants were deeply moved by his remarkable humility; at 74 years of age, the former Union Minister graciously obliged everyone by sitting cross-legged on the floor, fully immersing himself in the devotional music and songs performed by a local group of artists. By putting aside his stature to join the performers as a fellow devotee, singing together with them, he truly exemplified the spirit of the festival and left a lasting impression on everyone present.

Commencing his inaugural address with the universal Vedic invocation Sahana Bhavatu, he instantly established a deep rapport with the local gathering by transitioning into a warm, respectful Andariki Namaskaram in Telugu. He paid solemn pranams to the sacred Bharathi Tirtha Pushpa Giri lineage and meticulously acknowledged every dignitary on the platform and within the audience. He offered a special accolade to the Darshanam Spiritual Magazine Editor, and his elder committed brother, for their unwavering commitment to organizing an exclusive event for Telugu and Sanskrit.

Choubey expressed immense gratitude for the opportunity provided to him to visit the historically significant Pushpa Giri Math in Hyderabad. After soulfully reciting the pristine Ya Kundendu Tushara hymn dedicated to Goddess Saraswati, he spoke passionately about the nature of Avadhana, emphasizing that it is far from being a simple, ordinary academic examination. In his deeply moving speech, Ashwini Kumar Choubey observed that the true essence of Avadhana lies in the cultivation of Jnapaka Shakti: the power of memory, and Dharana: retention, both of which can only be achieved through rigorous, unyielding Sadhana, or disciplined practice.

 He noted that the historic city of Hyderabad, embodying the spirit of Telugu Talli (Mother) and classical Sanskriti, was witnessing a true Sahitya ka Panduga (Literary Festival), a grand festival of literature that serves as a vital pillar for building a Naya Bharat, a New India, rooted firmly in the foundational strengths of Sanatan Dharma. Praising Nallan Sahith’s academic credentials from IIT, Choubey championed the young Avadhani as a shining symbol of how youth power directly translates into national power when guided by intellectual and spiritual depth.

He reminded the audience that true knowledge must always yield humility (Vinay) rather than arrogance (Ahankar), wishing that Sahith’s Sahitya Sadhana remains a lifelong, Nirantar Journey. Drawing parallels to the timeless epics of Ramayana, Mahabharata, and Bhagavata, he highlighted them as eternal sources of societal faith and confidence. Demonstrating his profound respect for classical scholarship, Choubey publicly assured that he would actively champion the cause of Dorbala Prabhakara Sharma, a legendary Sanskrit scholar present on the occasion, advocating not just for a Padmashri, but for the prestigious Padma Bhushan award.

Furthermore, he promised to personally request the Governor of Telangana to either attend the festival or invite the Avadhani and organizers to Raj Bhavan for an official state felicitation. The spiritual dimensions of the festival were illuminated during the Anugraha Bhashan of the Pushpagiri Swamiji, who eloquently described the entire Shatavadhana process as an Avadhana Amruta Dhara Abhisheka: a sacred, purifying ritual bath composed of the nectar of pure intellect.

Swamiji likened Sahith's poetic brilliance to the serene and flawless dictum of Sharada Chandra Mouliswara, emphasizing that the young scholar is not merely an Avadhani, but a true Avadhani Chakravarthy, an emperor among poets. In a beautiful metaphor, Swamiji compared the timely arrival of Ashwini Kumar Choubey to a direct blessing from the Ashwini Devatas, the Celestial Twins of divine harmony and healing.

Drawing inspiration from Choubey’s roots, Swamiji invoked the resilient spirit of Bihar with the powerful phrase Kabhi Haar Nahee Maan: never accept defeat, remarking that Choubey’s presence brought the macro-visionary energy of Prime Minister Narendra Modi directly to the cultural stage of Hyderabad. For the scholarly community and the authors involved, a deeply personal and significant milestone as far as I am concerned, was achieved during this grand inaugural function when my new literary work was presented to the world, once again.

The book, titled Simplified and Faithful Rendering of the Adi Kavya: Valmiki Ramayana The Greatest Epic A Treasure for All of Humanity (Bala Ayodhya Kandas), was reverently offered to the Chief Guest, Pushpagiri Swamiji, and the venerable Sanskrit Scholar Dorbala Prabhakara Sharma. This presentation carried the profound weight of an official book release, symbolizing a dedicated, devotional effort to bridge ancient languages, disconnected generations, and distant continents through the timeless ideals of Sri Rama.

The reception was overwhelmingly warm; Chief Guest Ashwini Kumar Choubey deeply appreciated the depth of the work on a quick browsing, expressed his eager desire to read the volume completely, and graciously promised to facilitate an opportunity to me to present a copy of this faithful rendering directly to Prime Minister Narendra Modi, thereby linking this local celebration to the highest echelons of national leadership. The intellectual grandeur of the dais was anchored by an extraordinary gathering of minds in classical literature, ensuring that the inaugural assembly was truly representative of the highest orders of traditional scholarship.

Presiding over the entire assembly as the ‘Sabha Adhyaksha’ was the venerable Maha Mukhopadhyay Brahmasri Dorbala Prabhakara Sharma, whose unmatched depth in Sanskrit commentary provided an academic foundation for the festival. The essential task of steering this complex, three-day intellectual marathon fell upon a highly distinguished panel of Sanchalakulu, or directors, each a celebrated scholar in their own right. This panel featured the accomplished Avadhana scholar Amudala Murali, an esteemed poet, writer, and lecturer who has executed numerous successful literary performances across the country.

They were supported closely on the platform by the co-organizer Sri Marumamula Dattatreya Sharma, representing the Avadhana Vidya Vikasa Parishad as its founder. Gracefully rounding out the platform as Atmiya Atidhulu, or Intimate Guests, were the esteemed court scholars of the Pushpagiri Math, including Asthana Pandithulu Dr Sri Meduri Suryanarayana Sharma, alongside the twin Asthana Kavis, Ashtavadhani Dr Sri Mudigonda Amarnath Sharma and Ashtavadhani Sri Muthyampeta Gouri Shankara Sharma, each providing a direct link to the courtly traditions of classical patronage. Famous Cine Artist and Spiritual Scholar Tanikella Bharani is an exclusive special attraction. And of course, many more unsung literary experts.

As the formal inaugural session concluded and the complex, beautiful mechanisms of the Shatavadhana swung into motion, it became apparent to everyone present that this three-day festival is far more than a dazzling display of individual memory or poetic virtuosity. It stands as an essential, vibrant celebration of the unbroken continuity of India’s vast knowledge systems, the resilience of her mother languages, the boundless reach of human poetic creativity, and the rigorous intellectual discipline that has sustained her civilization for millennia.

Through the harmonious convergence of a tech-savvy youth prodigy, visionary spiritual leadership, supportive political statesmanship, and timeless literature, the event serves as a magnificent blueprint for the future. It proves conclusively that as India marches forward into an era dominated by artificial intelligence and global technological networks, her ancient soul remains anchored, secure, and radiantly alive in the exquisite cadences of her classical verses.

Monday, September 14, 2026

Simplified and faithful rendering of the Adi Kavya-39 >>>>> Across the Boundaries of Kosala: Dharma Set in Motion >>>>> The Journey Beyond Attachment: Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Across the Boundaries of Kosala: 

Dharma Set in Motion

The Journey Beyond Attachment

Simplified and faithful rendering 

of the Adi Kavya-39

Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

The previous chapter of the Ayodhya Kanda closed upon a haunting stillness. Ayodhya, once vibrant with coronation music and festive expectation, had fallen silent as though the very pulse of the city had paused. In that silence, the deeper meaning of exile began to unfold. What appeared outwardly as loss was inwardly the commencement of a greater moral drama. As we now move forward in this article, the narrative shifts from the collective grief of Ayodhya to the steady movement of Rama away from familiar boundaries.

The chariot that once symbolized royal transition now carries renunciation into unfamiliar lands. This section marks not merely a geographical crossing, but a crossing of emotional, political, and civilizational thresholds. In every age, moments arise when societies must confront whether their strength lies in power or in principle. Rama’s journey now begins to answer that question through action rather than proclamation.

A poignant portrayal of the city of Ayodhya, once resonant with song, celebration, dance, and instrumental music, and fallen into profound silence was portrayed in its concluding paragraphs. It was a striking image painted by Valmiki in his Adi Kavya, the Sanskrit Ramayana, and echoed with equal devotion by Vavilikolanu Subbarau (Vasudasa Swamy) in his Telugu rendering Mandaram. The imagery conveyed a powerful truth: a civilization without its moral center resembles a vast ocean whose waters have dried away.

Thus concluded a deeply moving phase of the Ayodhya Kanda, an episode marked not by dramatic battle, but by the quiet valor of Rama’s renunciation. For modern readers, this image remains strikingly relevant: prosperity, art, and culture flourish only so long as they are anchored in righteousness. When ethical foundations weaken, even the most magnificent cities grow hollow within.

Sri Rama, revolving steadily in his mind the command of his father, journeyed onward through the remainder of the night, accompanied by Sita and Lakshmana. The chariot moved swiftly, carrying them far from the grieving capital. Gradually, that serene night gave way to dawn. They crossed beyond the familiar boundaries of their homeland, passing villages whose outskirts were fertile and cultivated, and forests richly adorned with blossoming trees.

Yet those who beheld them could not restrain their murmurs. Many openly declared that King Dasaratha, overcome by passion and misplaced attachment, had consented to Rama’s exile. History often judges rulers not merely by their intentions, but by the consequences of their decisions. In times of moral crisis, public trust becomes fragile, and even private weakness can reshape the destiny of a kingdom.

Voices rose in grief and indignation. Kaikeyi was denounced as cruel and sinful, accused of sending the noble prince into exile. In contrast, Rama was praised as virtuous, intellectually radiant, compassionate, and master of his senses. The people wondered aloud how Sita, so delicate, so esteemed, would endure the hardships of forest life. Some condemned Kaikeyi as hot-tempered and devoid of propriety, unable to recognize the treasure she had cast away.

Yet Rama listened without interruption or resentment. Absorbed in his vow, he quietly crossed the boundaries of Kosala, the very kingdom for which he had once been the destined sovereign. In moments of injustice, the temptation to respond to anger with anger is powerful. Rama’s silence here is not weakness but strength, a reminder that dignity often speaks louder than protest.

 As Rama journeyed onward, he crossed the sacred River Veda Shruti, flowing through regions sanctified by the presence of sages, including the vicinity associated with Agastya. Soon thereafter, he reached the auspicious River Gomati, whose clear and gentle waters moved steadily toward the distant sea. Its banks were adorned with grazing cows, symbolizing abundance and rural serenity. Crossing Gomati, Rama advanced further and passed over the River Shyandika, whose surroundings echoed with the melodious cries of peacocks and the graceful calls of swans.

Observing the lively harmony of birds dwelling freely in the forest, Rama gently encouraged Sita to remain cheerful, to be as content and untroubled as those forest birds, moving lightly amidst nature’s rhythms. In times of transition, Rama does not allow hardship to define the journey. Instead, he draws attention to beauty still present, teaching that even when circumstances change, inner joy need not vanish.

Rama then pointed out to Sita the historic land of Kosala. He explained that its southern boundary was marked by the River Shyandika, and that long ago this vast territory had been granted by the primordial king Manu to Ikshvaku, the first sovereign of their illustrious dynasty. Over generations, the Ikshvaku kings had ruled this domain with authority and dignity. Other monarchs within the broader imperial framework, though independent in governance, had acknowledged the sovereignty of the Ikshvakus and paid tribute accordingly.

Rama clarified that while the Ikshvaku rulers did not exercise direct control over every territory, their overlordship was respected and honored. The structure was one of order, mutual recognition, and dharmic balance rather than coercive domination. Here, Rama subtly reflects upon responsible governance: the authority rooted not merely in force, but in legitimacy and moral credibility. Even in exile, his thoughts remain aligned with principles of just rule, reminding modern readers that true leadership transcends temporary positions of power.

With tender warmth, Rama then shared with the faithful charioteer and minister Sumantra a personal thought that arose in his heart. He said that upon completing the fourteen years of exile and reuniting with his father and mothers in Ayodhya, he would delight in roaming once more through the blossoming forests along the banks of the River Sarayu. He spoke of hunting there occasionally, as was customary for royal sages and warriors of that age.

Yet he added thoughtfully that he had no deep craving for such pursuits. It was not indulgence that stirred him, but a quiet recollection of familiar landscapes once shared in peace. Even while moving away from the kingdom, Rama’s words reveal hope, that was not of reclaiming pleasure, but of restoring harmony. His dreams are modest, rooted in reunion rather than revenge. In this lies a profound lesson, that the future should be shaped by restoration, not resentment.

Rama then wondered softly whether destiny would indeed grant him such a return, whether he would once again behold those familiar groves along the Sarayu after completing the long years of exile. The place he had described was cherished in the world by many royal sages, who found both discipline and recreation in forest life. In that age, hunting was not mere sport but a regulated practice adopted occasionally by warrior-kings to maintain skill and alertness.

Yet Rama clarified that he was never excessively attached to it. His heart did not linger in indulgence, but in remembrance of harmony. Speaking gently to Sumantra on themes dear to him, of homeland, duty, parents, and the rhythms of righteous kingship, Rama continued along the forest path with composure. Even when recalling pleasures of the past, Rama revealed restraint. Memory does not become craving. In a world often driven by excess desire, this quiet self-mastery stands as an enduring example of balance.

Having traversed the vast territory of Kosala, Rama at last paused. Turning his face toward distant Ayodhya, he folded his palms in reverence. With deep emotion, he bade farewell to the beloved city. He declared that after completing his forest exile, he would once again behold Ayodhya, guarded by King Dasaratha and protected by the presiding deities who dwelt within her sacred precincts. He expressed hope of reuniting with his father and mothers in due time.

Raising his right arm in solemn gesture, tears glistening upon his reddish eyes, Rama offered gratitude to the rural folk who had shown him compassion along his journey. Though outwardly firm, his heart was tender. He acknowledged their love without allowing it to weaken his resolve. True strength does not suppress emotion, but it sanctifies it. Rama’s farewell teaches that one may grieve, yet remain steadfast, a lesson especially meaningful in times when personal pain tempts us to abandon responsibility.

In this context, Vavilikolanu Subbarau (Vasudasa Swamy), the revered Andhra Valmiki, in his faithful Telugu rendering of the Sanskrit Ramayana, offers a profound interpretive reflection on Rama’s act of turning toward Ayodhya and bowing in reverence. He explains that from ancient times it has been customary, when leaving one’s village, to offer salutations to the presiding village deity. Owing to the great commotion caused by the citizens who had followed him earlier, Rama had not been able to perform this observance at the proper moment. Therefore, he turned northward toward Ayodhya and humbly offered prayers to the guardian deity of the city.

An objection may arise, the commentator notes: ‘Was not Rama himself the Supreme Lord? Being the Divine Incarnation, why did he bow to minor deities?’ The answer lies in the very purpose of his incarnation. Rama descended not merely to display divinity, but to establish righteous conduct (Shishtachara) in the world through his own example. Thus, whether here or elsewhere, when Rama and Sita bow to rivers, trees, or local deities, it does not imply that those entities are superior to them. A wise being performs even actions that bring no personal gain, if such acts uphold social order and instruct the world.

When one offers salutation to another, it is not to the physical body that one bows, but to the indwelling Lord within. Since the Supreme dwells as the inner controller (Antar Yami) in all beings and in all elements of nature, any act of reverence ultimately reaches Him alone. This teaching carries deep relevance today. Respecting nature, honoring tradition, and practicing humility are not signs of superstition but acknowledgments of the divine presence permeating all existence. When reverence is rooted in understanding, it elevates both the worshipper and the world.

In response to Rama’s reverent farewell, the people respectfully saluted him and circumambulated him clockwise as a mark of deep devotion. While they continued thus, unwilling to part from his presence, Rama quietly moved beyond their sight, like the sun gently sinking beneath the horizon at dusk. He passed through the prosperous territory of Kosala, a land rich in grain and treasure, inhabited by charitable and benevolent people, free from fear and flourishing in contentment.

The countryside was adorned with temples and sacrificial altars, mango groves and gardens, ponds brimming with water, and herds of well-nourished cows. It was a realm vibrant with material abundance and spiritual vitality alike. And there, as he journeyed onward, Rama beheld the sacred River Ganga. Even as he left behind political authority, Rama walked through a land shaped by generations of righteous rule, reminding that dharma, once established, continues to bless a nation long after the ruler has stepped aside.

The sacred River Ganga stretched before him in majestic splendor. Along its banks stood hermitages at gracious intervals, pools overflowing with clear waters, and sanctified groves frequented by ascetics and seekers. At auspicious hours, celestial maidens were believed to visit its waters in delight. The blessed River was revered alike by Gods and Asuras, by Gandharvas and Kinnaras, and by the Consorts of Nagas who dwelt in subtle realms.

Encircled by hills that served as playgrounds of celestial beings and adorned with heavenly gardens, it was said to flow not only upon earth but through the heavens themselves, where it was known as the ‘Stream of Golden Lotuses.’ Its descent was not merely geographical but cosmic, linking heaven, earth, and the nether regions in one sacred continuum. River Ganga symbolizes more than a river. It is a bridge between realms. In an age increasingly fragmented, the River’s imagery reminds of the interconnectedness of the visible and the invisible, the earthly and the divine.

Once again, Vavilikolanu Subbarau, in his Telugu Mandaram, offers a poetic comparison of the River Ganga to a resplendent woman in the bloom of youth. He describes the trees growing along its banks as resembling garlands of creepers adorning its neck. In some places, it appeared covered with freshly blossomed lotuses, compared metaphorically to the graceful dimples upon a woman’s form. Elsewhere, clusters of white kumuda flowers shimmered upon its surface. In certain stretches, the pollen, a fine powdery substance, typically of multicolored blossoms tinged it waters from white to rosy hues, as though it (she) flushed in youthful exuberance.

At times the River gleamed like a spotless mirror, smooth and radiant. Mighty elephants, wild forest tuskers, and even celestial elephants wandered near its sounding woods. It seemed adorned with precious ornaments and jewels, like a noble maiden richly decorated. Bright flowers, fruits, and tender shoots covered the banks, while birds filled the groves with lively music. Crocodiles, aquatic creatures, and serpents moved within her depths. It was hailed as the River that sprang from the feet of Lord Vishnu, the sinless purifier who washes away the sins of others, the stream that descended from the matted locks of Lord Shiva.

Waters of River Ganga, echoed with the cries of Krauncha birds suited to dwell upon its lakes. Beholding such a Ganga, delightful to the eyes and sanctifying to the spirit, Rama prepared eagerly to proceed toward Shrungiberipuram situated upon its banks. Through this poetic imagery, the River becomes living presence, as nurturing, radiant, and purifying. It taught earlier and now teaches modern readers to view nature not as a resource to exploit, but as a sacred embodiment of grace deserving reverence and protection.

Beholding the sacred River Ganga, whose waves shimmered as they circled deep whirlpools, Rama gently told Sumantra that they should halt there for the day. Pointing toward a magnificent sacred fig (GARA) tree nearby, vast in trunk, rich with blossoms and tender shoots, he suggested it would provide them fitting shelter. He further spoke of the auspiciousness of the Ganga itself, whose waters were revered alike by Gods, Humans, Gandharvas, Beasts, Reptiles, and Birds.

To pause beside such a river was not mere convenience, but it was to rest within sanctity. Rama’s decision to halt there revealed an important truth, that, even during exile, he chooses places of spiritual nourishment. When life’s path grows uncertain, seeking spaces that elevate the mind becomes essential for inner steadiness. Accepting Rama’s suggestion, Lakshmana and Sumantra led the horses toward the shade of that great tree.

Thus concludes this phase of Rama’s departure from Ayodhya: a movement marked not by haste or rebellion, but by reverent resolve. Having crossed the outer boundaries of Kosala, Rama had already crossed subtler inner thresholds: from heir-apparent to exile, from sovereign-to-be to servant of dharma. His turning toward Ayodhya in farewell revealed that even separation can be sanctified by gratitude. Power was relinquished, yet moral authority deepened. In this quiet passage, Rama teaches that when righteousness guides one’s steps, no boundary truly confines, and no loss diminishes the dignity of purpose.

>>>>>Photographs Courtesy Rama Bhakta Vijaya Raghava Dasu

{{From my Published Book ‘Simplified and Faithful Rendering of the Adi Kavya’

Valmiki Ramayana: The Greatest Epic (Bala and Ayodhya Kandas)}}

(This Book is free of cost for all those who are interested to read the English Version of Valmiki Ramayana, provided they collect it from me in person preferably. Mobile: 8008137012)

Sunday, September 13, 2026

Celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi : A Simple Guide for My Grandchildren Abroad >>>>> Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao

 Celebrating Ganesh Chaturthi

A Simple Guide for My Grandchildren Abroad

Irah, Kanak, Medha, Ansh, Mihira, Yagnic, and Yashwin

By Vanam Jwala Narasimha Rao 

(September 14, 2026: Hyderabad)

Ganesha, also widely known as Vinayaka, is one of the most beloved deities in Hinduism, celebrated as the remover of obstacles and the god of new beginnings. According to sacred Puranic texts, his birth story is both fascinating and symbolic. Goddess Parvati (Lord Shiva Wife) created him out of pure devotion using the turmeric paste from her own body, breathing life into the form to create a loyal son who would guard her privacy while her husband, Lord Shiva, was away meditating.

According to the Shiva Purana, Shiva frequently went into deep, meditative absorption: The Samadhi or Long Spiritual Wanderings for years at a time. During one such extended period of intense meditation, Goddess Parvati found herself alone at home. She wished for a loyal protector who would obey only her commands, which prompted her to craft the form of a boy from turmeric paste and breathe life into him. However, The story of the demon Gajasura actually connects to this birth narrative afterward in a beautiful ‘Story within a Story’:

Gajasura, an elephant-headed demon performed severe penance for Lord Shiva. When Shiva granted him a boon, Gajasura requested that Shiva reside inside his stomach. Lord Vishnu later liberated Shiva from Gajasura's stomach. The demon prayed that his head be forever revered by the world. When Shiva returned home from his long absence, encountered Ganesha, and severed his head in a fit of anger.

When Goddess Parvati discovered that Lord Shiva had unknowingly severed the head of the loyal son she created, her grief instantly turned into monumental, world-ending rage. She assumed her fiercest form: Goddess Kali, threatening to dismantle the entire universe unless her son was brought back to life and given the utmost respect.

Upon realizing the boy was Parvati's beloved creation, to save the cosmos and soothe Parvati, a deeply grief-stricken Shiva acted quickly. He ordered his attendants to bring the head of the first living creature they encountered facing north. They returned with the head of a powerful elephant (fulfilling the past destiny of the demon Gajasura), which Shiva fused onto the boy's body, breathing divine life back into him. Thus, he also fulfilled Gajasura’s final wish by placing the elephant-demon’s head onto Ganesha's body to revive him.

With the elephant-headed boy revived, all the supreme gods: Shiva, Vishnu, and Brahma, along with the celestial council (Devas), gathered to formally establish his new status. To permanently pacify Parvati and honor the boy’s extraordinary loyalty, Lord Shiva declared the ultimate decision:

The boy was named Ganesha (the Lord of all divine attendants). He was granted the supreme boon of Prathama Pujya, meaning he must be worshipped first before any other god, ritual, or new venture. The specific day this dramatic rebirth and divine declaration took place: the fourth day (Chaturthi) of the waxing moon in the month of Bhadrapada, was officially designated as the eternal day for the entire universe to celebrate him.

 Shiva also blessed him with supreme wisdom and designating him as the leader (Pati) of his divine attendants (Ganas).

This unique birth and his divine attributes earned him many meaningful names that reflect his role in the universe. He is called Vignaharta, the destroyer of all hurdles, making him the first deity invoked before starting any new venture, wedding, or business. As Gajanana, he represents the one with the majestic elephant face, symbolizing immense intellect and listening capability.

His name Lambodara highlights his large belly, which metaphorically signifies his ability to swallow and digest all the sorrows, joys, and secrets of the cosmos. Meanwhile, the name Ekadanta refers to his single tusk, pointing to the ultimate truth of oneness and his sacrifice in breaking his own tusk to write down the epic Mahabharata. Through these names and stories, Vinayaka remains a universal symbol of resilience, intellect, and auspicious beginnings for millions around the world.

Vakratunda is one of the most famous and widely chanted names of Lord Ganesha, which literally means ‘The one with the curved or bent trunk.’ In Sanskrit, the word Vakra means curved or twisted, and Tunda refers to the face, snout, or trunk. This name highlights Ganesha's distinctive physical feature, but it also carries a deep symbolic meaning. His curved trunk represents the flexibility and adaptability needed to navigate life's twists and turns.

It shows that supreme wisdom knows how to bend and adjust to any situation rather than breaking under pressure. You will often hear this name at the very beginning of daily prayers and traditional rituals through the popular verse ‘Vakratunda Mahakaya,’ where devotees invoke him to remove obstacles and bring clarity to their paths, no matter how complicated or crooked life's challenges might seem.

The famous story of the Moon laughing at Ganesha is one of the most popular folktales associated with Vinayaka Chavithi, and it explains a unique tradition that many families still follow today.

The story begins on a night when Lord Ganesha had attended a grand feast in his honor. Known for his love of sweets, he happily ate an enormous amount of Modaks (steamed or fried sweet dumplings filled with grated coconut and jaggery), and Laddus (sweet, spherical grain flour balls). Ganesha returned home to Mount Kailash. Out of deep respect, he attempted to perform a full Sashtanga Namaskaram (a traditional, flat-on-the-ground prostration) to seek his parents' blessings.

However, because his stomach was so incredibly full, his round belly physically prevented him from completing the bow. As he struggled to bend down, he lost his balance and rolled over, causing his overstuffed stomach to burst open, spilling the sweets onto the floor. It was precisely this endearing yet clumsy sight of Ganesha struggling to bow to his parents and his favorite sweets tumbling out, that caught the eye of the Moon God, Chandra Deva, who looked down from the heavens and burst into arrogant, mocking laughter.

Ganesha, embarrassed by the clumsy fall and deeply offended by the Moon’s arrogant vanity, decided to teach him a lesson in humility. In a fit of righteous anger, Ganesha even broke off one of his own tusks and hurled it at the Moon, casting a powerful curse. Ganesha declared that the Moon would lose all its shining luster and disappear into total darkness. Furthermore, he decreed that anyone who looked at the Moon would suffer from false accusations, public disgrace, and be wrongly blamed for things they did not do.

Terrified by the eternal darkness and the weight of the curse, the Moon apologized profusely and begged for mercy. Because Ganesha is fundamentally kind-hearted, he relented but explained that a divine curse could not be entirely taken back. Instead, he modified it. The curse of facing false blame would only apply to whoever looks at the moon specifically on the night of Vinayaka Chavithi. And instead of remaining permanently dark, the Moon was allowed to slowly regain its light and fade away in a continuous cycle (the waxing and waning phases)

This timeless legend serves as a moral reminder against mocking others' misfortunes. It is why to this day, traditional households advise everyone to keep their eyes away from the night sky on the festival evening.

However, hearing or reading the sacred stories associated with this day serves as a divine remedy. When Lord Krishna was vindicated from the exact same curse, he decreed a special boon: anyone who listens to these stories with devotion on Chaturthi will be completely shielded and relieved from any negative effects.

These highly concise breakdown of the five essential sub-plots that traditional households read to wash away the curse are:

1          The Creation of Vinayaka

Goddess Parvati, desiring a loyal guardian while Lord Shiva was away meditating, shaped a beautiful boy out of the turmeric paste from her own body. She breathed life into him and instructed him to guard her privacy fiercely. When Shiva returned and found a stranger blocking his entry, a fierce clash ensued, and Shiva severed the boy's head. Upon hearing Parvati's immense grief, a compassionate Shiva replaced the boy's head with a mighty elephant's head to revive him, naming him Ganesha and granting him the boon of being worshipped first across the universe.

2          The Moon's Arrogant Mockery

After enjoying a grand feast of Modaks (sweet dumplings) and Laddus (sweet flour balls), Ganesha was returning home riding his tiny mouse vehicle. Suddenly, a snake crossed their path, causing the mouse to trip and the round-bellied Ganesha to tumble onto the dirt. Witnessing this clumsy fall, the vain Moon God laughed out loud in mockery. Infuriated by this arrogance, Ganesha hurled his own broken tusk at the Moon and cursed him, declaring that anyone who looks at the Moon on this specific night will suffer false blame and public humiliation.

3          Satrajit and the Divine Sun Gem

Centuries later, an ardent devotee named Satrajit received the magnificent Syamantaka Jewel from the Sun God, which magically produced massive amounts of pure gold daily. Out of greed, King Ugrasena and Lord Krishna suggested placing the gem in the royal treasury for safe-keeping, but Satrajit arrogantly refused. One fateful day, Satrajit's brother, Prasena, wore the dazzling jewel into the deep forest for a hunt. Tragically, a wild lion attacked Prasena, killed him for the glowing object, and carried the precious gem away into the wilderness.

4          Krishna Falsely Accused

When Prasena failed to return, a suspicious Satrajit publicly accused Lord Krishna of murdering his brother to steal the golden jewel. Unbeknown to Krishna, he had accidentally glanced at the Moon's reflection in a bowl of milk on Vinayaka Chavithi night, triggering the ancient curse. To clear his tarnished reputation and prove his innocence, Krishna marched into the dangerous jungle. He successfully tracked the lion's footprints, only to find the lion dead and the jewel missing, leading him to the hidden cave of a legendary bear.

5          The Cave Battle and Vindication

Inside the cave, Krishna found the ancient, immortal bear Jambavan (a loyal devotee from the Ramayana era), whose child was playing with the shiny gem. A fierce, exhausting wrestling match ensued between Krishna and Jambavan, lasting for 28 continuous days. Recognizing Krishna's divine strength as none other than his beloved Lord Rama, Jambavan surrendered, apologized, and happily gifted the jewel along with his daughter Jambavanti. Krishna returned the gem to Satrajit, proving his innocence, exposing the false rumors, and successfully breaking the power of the Moon’s curse.

If someone in our family accidentally looks at the sky on this night, we need not panic. Let us simply sit down together, read or think about the stories above, and chant this ancient Syamantaka Mantra:

‘Simhah Prasenamavadhitsimho Jambavata Hatah;

Sukumaraka Marodistava Hyesha Syamantakah.’

Meaning: A lion killed Prasena, and that lion was subsequently killed by Jambavan. So, dear gentle child, do not cry, for this spectacular Syamantaka jewel belongs to you.

JAI GANESHA, JAI, JAI GANESHA

Happy, Happy, Happy Ganesh Chaturthi to all Near and Dear

{Note: Chavithi (Telugu) and Chaturthi (Sanskrit and Hindi) refer to the exact same Auspicious Fourth Lunar Day}