CHARAKA SAMHITA - SCIENCE OF LIFE AND LONGEVITY

In the world of disease, where millions are prey to myriad troubles,

Giving them sleepless nights,

When anxiety and worry about the dawn of the morrow

Keeps persons in high tension and low spirits

The presence of a doctor by the bedside

Could be the greatest of boons.

Not for nothing the medicine man was glorified by the early tribes

He is nicknamed sorcerer by modern pundits

But could be truly a scientist with an all-embracing role,

Using his medical knowledge for political gain

While compelling death to take a glance and pass by

Instead of pouncing on his patients with its piercing claws.

In ancient Taxila a student searches and searches in vain

To find one plant or herb not useful for man

In the vast herbal garden adjacent to his school

Is it an insignia of acquisition of highest knowledge?

Or is it the starting point of research?

As no visible sign there is to set a limit to the horizons of knowledge

Which seems to recede further and further

The more the knowledge is acquired.

In Mahabharata a tribal Chief,

Practising the highest arts in life saving game

Befools Takshaka, the serpent King,

By bringing back to life a tree

Reduced into cinder by its venomous fangs

A miracle indeed but medical science presents many such miracles

What more classic example one can have

Of ancient India’s pristine effort

To practice the Art of Healing for the needy and the suffering.

SUSRUTA - "What more classic example can one have; Of ancient India's pristine effort; To pracice the Art of Healing for the needy and the suffering."

The great Asoka built many a hospital for man and beast

To restore life or give it a fresh lease

A time when science and arts mingled in harmony

To make life less miserable to man.

The Medicine Man and those that trod in his footsteps

Were the forerunners to study in depth,

The functioning of the body system,

To identify a disease, to provide the healing touch

Using their powers of intuition and invention;

But using medicine to instigate crime they abhor

Aerial spraying of bacterial venom

Soaking environment with chemical fumes spilling death

Drug addiction and its abuse

Would be an anathema to their primitive mind;

Let the medical system, with its vast domain and modern garb,

A Pasteur, a Fleming, an Yellapragada of Lederle fame,

And a host of kindred souls,

Help usher a New Millennium

Where  disease is banished or finds a cure

To enable man to enjoy a longevity

Where death ceases to haunt his mind.

By   R. Suryanarayana Murthy

LORD DHANVANTARI - THE GOD OF AYURVEDA : "TO ENABLE MAN TO ENJOY A LONGEVITY WHERE DEATH CEASES TO HAUNT HIS MIND."

DHANVANTARI MANTRA  : A HYMN IN PRAISE OF GOD OF AYURVEDIC MEDICINE ( INDIAN TRADITIONAL MEDICINE )

Om Namo Bhagavate

Maha Sudharshana

Vasudevaya Dhanvantaraye;

Amrutha kalasa hasthaaya

Sarva bhaya vinasaya

Tri Lokyapathaye

Tri Lokyanithaye

Sri Maha Vishnu swarupa

Sri Dhanvantari swarupa

Sri Sri Sri

Aoushadha Chakra Narayana Swaha.

VAIDYO NARAYANA

Indian Tradition glorifies the man who restores life or gives it a fresh lease. The Art of Healing and providing relief or cure  to diseases that afflict man is a Divine Gift.

1. I see the dawn ushering the New Year

     Its glorious colours thrilling the heart,

    I hear the song sweeter than nectar

   The little black bird pealing out in rhapsody,

  I see young maidens in their best costumes

 Gathering flowers, making themselves merry,

 Their smiles, like the hues of sapphire,

 radiating innocence,

 I see everywhere joy, the Mother Earth herself

 playing the guitar,

 Her sweet kiss and warm hug banishing fear

 from every head.

"The little black bird pealing out in rhapsody" - Koel, the Song Bird of India, known as Eudynamys scolopacea, the Cuckoo bird, Family Cuculidae, Order Cuculiformes.

2. I see the dawn ushering the New Year

     Making me remember the days gone by

    The struggle I had to walk erect

  To live in the world and still be out of it,

 To stand up to truth and with no grease to the palm,

 To be a teacher indeed was no mere dream

 And do one’s duty was itself its reward.

3. I see the dawn ushering the New Year

Rousing hopes in me of joining the immortals

To strain my utmost to get the vision of Beauty,

of Cosmic Effulgence,

To pour over pages to destroy lingering cobwebs

of ignorance and superstition,

To elevate the mind where none is seen as inferior

And vie with the chosen that leave their prints

on the sands of  Fame.

4. I see the dawn ushering the New Year

That works miracles, making hope eternal,

That provides the healing touch to the festering sores,

That puts down the flame in the cauldron,

That restores dignity to the downtrodden,

and helps us to proclaim

That Peace and Sanity shall reign

And the World shall always be One.

Composed by R. Suryanarayana Murthy in celebration of Telugu New Year ‘VIBHAVA’ on March 18, 1988.

"MIND LIKE THE PROTECTING ANGEL TO STEER THE BODY"

RULE  OF  LAW

I have a rule of law for myself

I need no external aid for this regime of mine

Its strength lies in its vast assets

Built up over the years

Based on internal purity of the mind

Of body too as both are linked in many ways

Body oft taking orders from the mind

Mind like the protecting angel to steer the body

Through eddies and whirlpools but always into the harbour

But at times mind fails to provide the signal

Gets bogged with conflicting thoughts

Like the ocean when churned by the ‘Devas’ and ‘Asuras’

Emnating poisonous fumes

Body in deep agony and forlorn

Dvelves deep into the inner recesses

And lo! a thud, deep and sonorous in tone

Its source scarcely visible

Could it be the inner voice, the voice of conscience,

Its message clear like the Commandments of yore,

All doubts get doused, all illusions vanish,

A new regime is launched, a new pathway found,

Mind becomes the Conqueror, a ‘Mahavira’,

Its enemies driven in all directions

While body becomes the Kingdom, where Peace reigns ever.

The Power of Creation could be simply experienced by holding your own baby.

SUPREME  PHENOMENON

I saw thee dragging thy feet up the stairs

Making me watch every movement of thine

Step by step, you steadied up,

Thy broad smile hiding all thy effort

What angel pushes thee up no eye can see.

I saw thee stretching, hugging the mother earth,

Rising and falling while crawling all the way;

All to thyself, no pitfall to frighten thee,

Nor danger lurking can stop thee going

And when the journey was finished there is that glow

“Who can beat me in the race?” thy challenge goes out

Thou art the victor in all such deeds.

Thou wert the star attraction of all ages,

Napoleon acclaiming thee as the greatest of all creation;

Saintly Gandhi hugged thee to press his lips on thine

“Chacha” Nehru crawled by thy side forgetting his power and pomp;

Can the royal throne or sceptred sway provide anything equal to thee?

Thou hast remained through ages humanity’s main hope in a naughty world.

Why did the Buddha see in thy birth unredeemed sorrow and suffering?

Why was it that Jesus saw in thy advent the gnawing pain of unsullied sin?

Or why was it the great Sankara said that thy emergence was enveloped in ‘Maya’ or illusion?

Thou did confound every philosopher and kept to thyself the mystery surrounding thy species

Thou an enigma and a riddle proclaiming the unanswerable divine will.

Still the world all over rejoices in thee and gives thee royal welcome

Without thee life is a desert with no flower to bloom,

Without thee the sweetest of poetry finds no place in heart

Thou art the greatest messenger of love

And give thy message to everybody, “Love thy neighbour as thou lovest thy child,

And see in every person a latent child

And discard all hatred that corrodes the soul.”

What more sublime is there than thy living touch

What greater joy is there than thy winning smile?

For me thou art a Supreme Phenomenon

With none to surpass not even the father, nor the mother.

( This poem was published in Indian Express, Hyderabad (A.P.) Daily Edition dated November 09, 1986. )

"It is a fight the like of which no one can imagine" - From 'A PERPETUAL FIGHT'. The Devil creeps into your dwelling like a thief to rob you and to destroy you.

A PERPETUAL FIGHT   

It is a fight the like of which no one can imagine

A fight where the enemy has the edge

Using weapons having the sharpness of a sword

And having physical proportions of a devil though in human shape;

Mine are somewhat rusted nor can be wielded with any strength

As creeping old age makes the muscles lose their sheen

Still I garner all the strength to give a strong fight

To escape deadly blows and cruel fisticuffs

Though I survive I lie prostrate

The devil declares its victory with a bugle sound

Though it cannot kill as it pertains to the domain of God

It shouts loudly ” This is not enough

I will have a bigger fight

My plan is to make mincemeat of your body

It is to see your faculties are destroyed

Your memory power,

Your intellectual strength, your deep understanding of the past,

Your capacity to stand up against untruth and injustice

Will all disappear with one blow

You will be reduced to a level

Where man started his living millions of years back

As a cave dweller, as a hunter, eating raw meat or fruit

With little brain power barring raw instincts”

I get up overcoming fatigue and slumber

I realize I can yield no more ground if I have to survive

Without faculties I will be nowhere

They are my real wealth and shall remain with me

While I am alive

I may grow old in age but not in mind;

I challenge the devil for another fight

Though hands shake and legs shiver

The mind remains strong

It tells the body not to lose heart

As there are ways and means to keep the devil at bay;

The mind gets its strength from food received through secret parlour

Not known to anybody except myself

As the feed goes on it continues the fight

The forces well placed on either side

The fight goes on, it is a perpetual fight

It is part of the great mystery that is called human life.

Old age creeps into body like a thief, like a devil to destroy you."As there are ways and means to keep the devil at bay". Faith is your secret weapon as the perpetual fight goes on.

"Mind facing slow desertification, a creeping death,"

Where can poetry come from ?

Mind facing slow desertification, a creeping death,

Advancing age crippling faculties, putting them in bind

Myself feeling lonely and forlorn

There might be a patch of fertile land

Hugging the mind here and there

But who will sow the seed or water the plant

Withered plants strewn all over

Land turning more gravely as days pass by

Who can stop the process or reverse the trend

Man is no god and has to face the inevitable one day.

"But who will sow the seed or water the plant" when the mental landscape turns more gravely as days pass by.

The child is lucky that way

It too cannot stand erect, nor walk straight,

Falls to the ground each time with bruises all over,

But rescued always with a warm hug by the loving mother

While in bed the child is lulled to sleep with a lullaby

The child hugging mother’s bosom while asleep, its sheet anchor,

The child smiles wandering in a dreamland undisturbed

Producing low musical sounds, its poetry culled from the stellar regions,

But for me it is gloom all over

Desertification spreading, covering pores in the mind;

Is there no balm to restore calm to an agonising soul

And allow it to sprout new seeds of joy and hope ?

“How can poetry come ?” the mind persists

“Give courage, give confidence, give security” beams a voice from inside

Poetry will blossom then, like the triple stream

The mythical Saraswati

Bubbling and bursting, piercing the layers of the earth

To reach the surface

Spreading greenery all over the land.

The hope of a Spring of Water bursting, piercing the layers of the earth to reach the surface for poetry to blossom.

"I see the crimson colours of the Divine Garb"

THE DIVINE GARB

 I see a divine garb hanging round my body

In the early morning hours when I still feel bodily pains

And warding off all attempts to bring to an end

Night’s dreamy splendour;

I see the crimson colours of the divine garb

Absorbing the cooling effect of the early morning rays

The garb giving me the feel

That  I am something of the very special

The divine garb is not like the one

Faked by rogue weavers

To make a gullible king walk half naked in the streets

The garment is indeed woven as a web

Where threads are smeared with thoughts pure and holy

To give them a dazzle and sheen

I get up not knowing what to do

Is the garment meant to convey a message

That I should play the role of a missionary

To make the man in the street learn his relationship with Almighty

Though a devoted soul I know I am hardly fitted to play such a role

My inadequacies are too many and too glaring

To dare and challenge those already in the field.

Is the garment meant to wake up in me thoughts lying dormant

Like particles floating in the rays of the morning sun

To enable me to join the ranks of knowledgeable souls

Whose message conveyed through word and print

Makes them unrivalled in the field of poetry or art

Here again I feel humbled

As the gumption that produced those wizards

Whose classics enthralled hmanity over the centuries

Is not what I can lay claim to with confidence.

I pick up a few granites of hard History

Which is all I could gather after digging over the years into realms of past

Though the effort is not much I can see the road ahead

I have an understanding how the world is what it is today

The chronicles are there for anybody to read

To understand the myriad efforts put forth by man to achieve progress

I find the divine garb is sent with a mission

To give cheer and hope to an agonised soul

Perplexed with dismay and despair

Facing the trauma of a life besieged with problems of aging and health

Its message is not to waver but put forth best effort

In the service of man even in a limited way

As the last days could also be best days at times

The mind cast in a mould of peace and content,

And God remains sheet-anchor in thought and deed.

Water supports Life. Running or Streaming Water represents Life in Motion.

TARANGINI – FLOWING STREAM – THE HOPE FOR HUMANITY

 

Tarangini - The Running Stream

 

 The word “TARANGINI” means a flowing river or stream. The act of flowing gives the water a life of its own. The river or stream is alive as long as the water is flowing. Man is confronted by the problems of aging and health. It is the thoughts and deeds of the man that survive which gives us a hope that human life could get over the limitations imposed by mortality. Tarangini conveys the thoughts that are expressed by my father, Shri. Rebbapragada Suryanarayana Murthy and I am happy to share his thoughts with others. In the fluidity of this flowing stream, I express a sense of hope for humanity and its quest for immortality. Please also read my personal tribute to my father at my entry titled “TARANGINI” – THE WAVE THEORY OF IMMORTALITY at my Home Page of Bhavanajagat.

http://bhavanajagat.wordpress.com/2009/10/20/tarangini-the-wave-theory-of-immortality/