March 09, 2013

Prayer Time At Delhi’s Jama Masjid



As the clock struck 4, a barely perceptible crackle over the public address system soon turned into a mellifluous call to prayer at Delhi's Jama Masjid.


I sat on a raised platform facing the historic masjid in old Delhi. The platform ran east-west along the length of the quadrangle enclosing a large courtyard where visitors milled about and joyous children scattered hundreds of feeding pigeons into the sky to watch them circle overhead before settling down once again among the grains an old Muslim man in a skull cap had spread in the middle of the courtyard.


Click Play to listen to the muezzin at prayer time in Delhi's Jama Masjid 

Visitors continued to stream in through the towering southern entrance. I let the muezzin’s magic work over me. After hours on foot through Delhi’s crowded gallis here was a voice that made space I could meander in without leaving my seat on the platform.



Behind me, framed in ornamented arches that looked out to the Red Fort in the distance two Muslim women in burqa sat cross-legged on the stone floor offering prayers from their holy book. The Urdu letters were visible from where I sat several feet away. Not once did they look up from the book in the time I was there.

The soft afternoon Sun slanted across the platform, echoing the warmth the muezzin's call to prayer lent the vanishing day.

March 03, 2013

David Rocco’s Dolce India Swings By ITC Grand Central, Mumbai




I learned of David Rocco’s Mumbai visit to film his new series in India centred on food only recently. Scheduled to be broadcast on FOX Traveller, his India episodes are said to be along the lines of his charming Dolce Vita episodes in Italy, exploring kitchens and restaurants, and people and places. A quick swing by ITC Grand Central and I’d have gotten a glimpse of his team at work only that I couldn’t get time off from office, so couldn't attend.

But I knew of someone who did and the account that follows is in K’s own words of the wine evening David Rocco hosted on ITC’s rooftop lounge recently.    
~

Until the kindly gentleman with a beatific smile said his name softly I had taken to addressing him as Mr. Bean after hearing his colleagues do the same.

“I’m Jay Bajaj,” the kindly man corrected me, his smile rarely leaving his face in the minutes we made acquaintance. He was settled on a sofa in ITC Grand Central’s split-level rooftop lounge - Point Of View on the 30th floor.



The lounge connected the open air gazebo on both wings, each home to a pavilion raised on a platform.


Behind him a row of high stools stood against the counter where smartly dressed bar tenders catered to guests. Gleaming bottles of spirits shone on racks in the warm light that suffused the cozy lounge equipped with a library and a boardroom. Large windows opened to the city outside. 


Visitors were seated at tables conversing in low tones, their bags on the floor resting against their chairs.


Jay Bajaj crossed his legs and stretched his arm along the back of the sofa, a sign he was relieved to be back somewhere warm, hospitable and retiring.

David Rocco’s production team was in Mumbai wrapping up filming in the metropolis for their show Dolce India scheduled to air on Fox Traveller starting September later this year.

Jay Bajaj was taking a well deserved pause while his colleagues were setting up cameras and other equipment while scouting the ITC Grand Central for footage and vantage points as the evening gradually wound upstairs to the rooftop lounge where David Rocco was scheduled to host a wine tasting event for select invitees.


I reached the ITC Grand Central located on a busy road in Parel, early, and it was just as well for, while the evening was to culminate in a wine tasting event with David Rocco, I was equally interested if not more in seeing his production team plan a shoot for his new television series David Rocco’s Dolce India exploring India on the lines of David Rocco’s Dolce Vita that’s made Season Four, a sign of its appeal and success.

India however is alien to David Rocco, an experiment, a challenge. I’ll only know if he’s made the cut once the cameras stop rolling and the promos hit the airwaves ahead of its broadcast.

For now I was curious to see what transpires in the making of a TV series episode given the success the celebrity TV host has had with his charming escapades in Italy stringing viewers along on his jaunts through Italy’s cultural and culinary landscapes. It didn’t really matter that the evening atop ITC Grand Central’s rooftop lounge might probably find only a passing reference and look-in when David’s team sits down to see the rushes with digital scissors at hand.

I was there for the experience of seeing and meeting with the show’s host and carry back memories of his production team working to make the India series happen. 


The setting at ITC Grand Central’s rooftop lounge the perfect antidote to the rush of the Mumbai street outside, contributing just the right setting to the evening even if the gathering was smaller than I expected.     

The ITC Grand Central where part of the footage was planned on the Mumbai leg of his four-city dash around India was an apt setting for a wine tasting evening given the views its split-level rooftop lounge Point Of View affords its guests gathered under the Mumbai sky to meet with David holding his fort with Indian wines.


In the open air gazebo, workers were busy preparing the pavilion for the evening, beautifying it with flowers.






The late afternoon Sun cast its glow around. David’s production team was up and about testing their equipment and looking for spots to best film the event.


A cameraman stood by the parapet and took in the view of Mumbai, high rises interspersing with low rise residential apartment blocks, together forming waves that rode for a long way out.  

The wind was beginning to pick up. It would grow stronger as the evening progressed.


He would later tell me that it was only a couple of days ago that he’d learned India makes its own wines; the surprise was equally evident on his twitter feed drawing a wry comment from a quip gently chiding David not to “undermine India” before smiley-ingly asserting “we can make quite a few things”. He probably meant “underestimate”, not “undermine”. To which David responded he didn’t ‘undermine India’ before implying he was in India ‘to find out just what things we make here,’ starting with Chennai down south.

The stops – Chennai, Mumbai, Jaipur, and New Delhi.

~


The team had just flown into Mumbai from Chennai to shoot on locations around the city in the days ahead. A quick trip to Nashik for a tour of Fratelli Winery was to culminate in an evening with wine, Indian wine in particular; Fratelli to be specific.

Leave alone the rest of the world, Nashik is not as well known around India either with the exception of Maharashtrians and those who know their Ramayana well. And knowledge of vineyards operating out of Nashik is an even longer shot outside of wine aficionados, some of whom wear Italian hats.  

It was in Nashik that Sita was abducted by Ravana while Lord Ram was on exile from Ayodhya.

If you’re visiting Nashik in the winter, few sights on Nashik’s streets overwhelm the visitor as much as basket loads of grapes being sold off the street.

Nashik grapes inveigle the visitor the moment they step out the railway station.

Take a bus out of Nashik proper for Trimbakeshwar and the countryside is host to sights of farmers selling their produce roadside in the backdrop of their vineyards.


But I suspect David’s experiences with India as a wine making destination is going to come up against those from his Dolce Vita episodes with Italian wine making traditions. No guesses to who’d win that.

If anything, more people than before will begin to associate India with wines once his India series goes on air. Not a bad beginning.


Speaking with him later that evening he said he was initially under the impression that Indians drink beer and that if Indians made wine it probably wasn’t that good.

Then there were the regulars from down South - “I liked the dosas, the chutneys, and the people. The people are amazing,” he said sharing his general impression, adding that he didn’t have a good experience at the fish market. The inedible smells grounded him.

Indians can find it difficult to beat the stench of open toilets in the summer, let alone someone whose TV series Dolce Vita promos paint vividly how to live the good life in Italy.

It’d be too much to expect David to wind through local Indian markets and not try his hand at bargaining with the vendors.

“They asked for a cauliflower, 40 rupees. I brought it down to 25. Then he brought me up to 30, and then I threw in a couple of chillies. That was a good deal.”

Who wouldn't smile through the day after bargaining a good deal? I would. And I do it as well with the local vendors.
    
~

His TV series David Rocco’s Dolce Vita has made four seasons and has aired in over 150 countries and counting, taking viewers on a vicarious tour of Italy exploring its cities and countryside for social, cultural and culinary encounters where, as David says on his website, “As always, the starting point is food,” before elaborating with “The show is also about how food brings friends and family together.”

Even if I hadn’t seen the section “My Italy” on David’s website that he begins with “Hey! This is my guide to my favourite country in the world,” it took me only a few minutes of conversation with him to realise that while he’s left Italy to visit India, he’s never really left Italy. This was notwithstanding the impression the man in maroon down south in Chennai made on him as he raised him arm holding a vessel with coffee as high as it could go while the other arm holding a second vessel descended low before letting the coffee cascade like a waterfall from the height he’d mustered with his right hand.

The smiling South Indian proudly displaying his coffee making skills is featured prominently on David’s site even if not everything about Chennai enamoured him.

One impression does not make an entire experience. And India is no Italy. It was not meant to be.

To know what I mean you only have to watch Dolce Vita’s Season Three trailer set in Italy.   


The Legwork Behind Making Dolce Vita - India

Where diversity, of the kind India is home to, entices, it equally challenges, more so given David has little to no experience with India personally, probably does not speak any Indian language, relying entirely on India hands to scout locales to capture India’s essence in the show’s format – food, markets, people, places, and cuisine, daring failure in attempting a fusion of Indian and Italian dishes.

While his site announced his Dolce Vita road show as “our guide to all things Italian,” before adding, “This is a great resource if you're planning a trip to Italy. I've recommended some of my favourite places to eat and sleep, in some of my favourite cities and areas in Italy. Some are fancy, some are simple, some just family run establishments, and all are worth visiting!

To pull this off with his Indian series would need local knowledge.

It’s here that Jay Bajaj stepped in to smooth over hassles common to locating people and locales to shoot street-side episodes for travel shows. Speaking with Jay as we waited for David to kick start the evening gave a peek behind the ‘finished work’ eventually broadcast on TV.  

Jay elaborated on the challenge he faced with the team in exploring India for locations to shoot, people to feature. Four Indian cities, each different from the other, can present different challenges even if the show format driving the content is the same.

Jay spoke of how he wasn’t entirely sure of which story would eventually work even though he had nine stories to work with.

“We had to change one of the stories yesterday because one of the people wasn’t there,” Jay offered as example of how scripts even when bound can come unglued. “We were thinking of doing a story,” he continued, referring to another story planned, “But now we’re in a hurry, so it’s constantly changing. Tomorrow, David’ll be doing PR while I’ll be out looking for people and places.”

Apparently, the idea for the India series was first broached to Jay by David last April after David phoned Jay to sound him out for the series. Initially Jay wasn’t too enamoured by the thought of getting involved in “all that food series” but David prevailed over Jay.

To know why Jay wasn’t exactly thrilled at first of a series involving food one doesn’t have to go further than Jay’s own 72-minute documentary feature Qawwali – A Musical Journey that he wrote, directed and produced in 2003 for his own banner – Bajaj Films.

The documentary film was a musical journey through his own childhood memories, Jay accompanied Hayat Nizami - whose family has been performing Qawaali for five generations - and his group of Qawaals through Delhi, the capital of India, as they go in for a recording session, talk about their music and share its importance in their lives, and sing at different historical locations around the city. The film paints a vivid picture in sound and sight of the music, its history, and its home.

Later, I listened to a Qawaali from Jay’s film Qawwali – A Musical Journey. The haunting invocation stayed with me long after the voice had gone silent.

After speaking with David, Jay realised it’d be fun doing the India TV series Dolce India though he admitted that he wasn’t entirely sure at first if David could pull it off, likely for the obvious reasons of land and language and the baggage that comes with it.

Once the ball got rolling and Jay found himself in the thick of things, the logistical legwork well and truly began, starting with identifying sponsors, ITC among them, scouting for locations and locales, story ideas, people, permissions and the whole works.

“I’ve been here (India) since September 18,” Jay said. The fact that he remembers the date is an indication that it’s been anything but a smooth sailing. “A good 5-6 months.”


David’s team is scheduled to be filming its episodes until April before leaving India and beginning work on post-production that’s expected to carry on until September, just shy of the dates they expect the series to go on air.

“13 episodes in all,” Jay lets on.

Talking of the editing process and the time it takes, he makes mention of Kunal Vijaykar’s show and of how they shoot for four hours in a day but take close to five days editing the footage.

Switching back to the work ahead of his team, he tells of how they shoot their episodes, each involving extensive shoots across locations over a minimum of three days before beginning post-production, all in all a lengthy process.

“We submit all 13 episodes to the broadcaster and they set up a date to begin broadcasting the episodes. In the West, National Geographic will broadcast our show, while elsewhere, Fox Traveller will carry it,” Jay concluded just as David finished meeting his team gathered in the lounge, exchanging courtesies with a few invites, posing for pictures, before everyone followed him to the open terrace of the Point Of View rooftop lounge to commence the evening event everyone had come together for.


By then the equipment was in place, boom mikes at the ready, and racks of wine bottles and glasses held centre stage.


The sun had slipped down the horizon save the last flames licking the skies over the Grand Central in gentle colours.


Starters had made their appearance: a variety of cheeses, and hummus shared space with cold cuts.






After rolling with the production team preparing for the shoot earlier that evening, I cast my lot with the crowd for the last act of the evening – David weaving his way about, sips of wine punctuating the banter, navigating looping smiles under the city sky, not unlike the style he’s adopted for his Dolce Vita series.


Raageshwari Loomba, formerly a singer and actress made an appearance with Farzana Contractor, the Editor of Uppercrust, India’s Food, Wine & the Good Life magazine.


The gathering gravitated toward the spread for the evening, asparagus, pita bread, artichokes, olives, salmon, cheeses and wines.
~


The Point Of View lounge as the name suggests offers a tantalising view of the Mumbai skyline for many a mile around in Parel, the Central Mumbai suburb once the hub of Mumbai’s textile mills that had propelled the city to the very forefront of India’s textile industry besides transforming Mumbai from a predominantly port city into an industrial hub.


From Point Of View, the ruins of United India Mills rise in the distance across the Lalbaug flyover. Chawls with their distinctive projecting balconies, once home to mill workers and their families, and now their descendants, are set back from the road. Together they offer the viewer a peep into the past of a city that rose on the strength of its industry, the textile mills.


The textile mills and the culture and traditions they engendered are long gone, only surviving in the large dilapidated structures that remind the viewer of a past that was as transforming as the present is changing their once thriving and throbbing industrial space into commercial and residential high rises. The remnants of mills and chawls in Parel remind of the transition now underway, and the sight from the Point Of View lounge affording these views and realisation is as sobering as it is elevating, more so as the old order giveth to the new.

Bathed in the lights that lit up the Point Of View lounge later that evening, conversations around wine and David Rocco’s upcoming series on India floating on the stiff breeze, I lifted my face to the stiff breeze and was quickly counselled by the warmth of the gathering even as I took in the city lights beyond the parapet, the glowing lights wrapping the cityscape were laid out like a mass of glittering necklaces spread outward like a giant ripple that refuses to peter out with time.

Note: Look out for David Rocco’s India Series on FOX Traveller sometime in September later this year for his on the good life in India.

February 13, 2013

The Colour Of Candyfloss



Sharmaji and I take a leisurely walk across the bridge over Brahma Sarovar in Kurukshetra.

A bite of candy floss to sweeten the stroll would’ve added just the right touch to a listless morning, a far cry from when the Mahabharata eventually culminated in a ferocious finish about this very place in Haryana in the distant past.


I had noticed a speck of pink in the distance. In time the speck grew larger, revealing a youth selling candy floss by the side of the road.

If he thought no one would notice the pink candyfloss packs raised on his stick, he was probably right. It was easy to miss them in the distance, more so in the morning haze that had settled over the legendary lake.

There had to be a better way to help strollers notice them from a distance.


Clad in a shirt intensely, and most likely intentionally, pink, he probably hoped to draw pilgrim attention to the only thing pink and edible in those parts – candy floss. Wandering pilgrim eyes would see him in the distance, catch the pink of his shirt for candyfloss and be drawn to the neatly wrapped packs of pink once they neared him and made them out on the raised stick.

Except when I saw him first, drawn by the unusual colour of his shirt, I missed the candy floss packs for his shirt. It was the reverse of missing the forest for the trees.

I had missed the trees for the forest.

The nature of seeing was once again determined by the gaps it sought to fill, but didn't.

I wonder if the nature of perception is any different.

February 11, 2013

A Swing And A Miss




It’s nearing ten in the night. Everyone, well almost everyone, is out. It’s Durga Puja. It’s Kolkata.

The “Playing XI” consisted of just one bowler, a batsman, and a wicket keeper. The rest of the fielding was done by the two walls enclosing the narrow passage.

They had abandoned the red ball, never a good idea under lights to begin with. The white one was a better option. Yet, he took a wild swing, and missed it.

Some habits die hard even if you are not old enough to have acquired them. They’re acquired from seeing them, and “a swing and a miss” has been on show for a long time now. 


January 30, 2013

A Poem to Sani Care's Rescue



Someone decided that just the name wasn’t enough to make passers-by step in and buy into the Sani Care promise.

So, a poem was marshalled to do battle. And it went like this:

Sani Care

Take Care
Sanitary Fair
Sani Care
Plumbing Rare

Esteemed Buyers
Be Aware
Pick Up The Best
And The Rare
Using Your Own Flair
Stepping In To

Sani Care

And, dear readers, as you can see, the poem has stood the test of time even if the coat had an issue with ‘Plumbing Rare’.

Where else but Kolkata.


Note: In the American Context, a Sanitary Fair offered ways for local communities to see themselves as part of a larger nation.

January 19, 2013

A Mirror In The Verandah, Crabs Roadside, A Signboard



Past Bhoma, off the road that runs on to Panjim, I remember a house set back from the road before it cuts through paddy fields and climbs over the bridge at Banastari a short distance away. It sat in a cluster of trees like many Goan houses do as you move away from urban centers and meander in the hinterland.

From the window of the bus I would see a mirror hanging by the door that led into the house. A verandah ran across the front. It seemed to be an old house. The sloping tiled roof extended over the verandah. A quiet had settled about it. The trees barely moved. They stood still, at attention.

In time, after I first noticed the mirror, I would often wonder who looked into it for, it hung prominently on the wall framing the door. Whoever it was must be particular about how they were turned out before leaving the house I thought. Maybe it was put to use to make sure those entering through the door had a chance to ensure they looked presentable to those they came to meet.

I do not know. I just made up stories in my mind to keep me company on my rides west toward Panjim.

So each time the bus would near the stretch of road soon after passing the temple at Bhoma, I would turn to the window expecting to see the lady of the house step in front of the mirror and adjust flowers in her hair tied into a bun before stepping out of the house in a colourful sari. Many Goan women from the hinterland tuck flowers into their hair knotted into neat buns.

Early in the day their fragrances suffuse morning rides in those private buses that hustling ‘conductors’ run between city and town centers, shepherding commuters with a combination of cajoling, a spot of friendly banter and good natured teasing and outright abuses.

The door by the mirror always stood open on the occasions I passed it as if those who lived there had figured it was better to keep the door open than open and shut it each time they went out or came in. But I never saw anyone look into the mirror. Actually I never saw anyone in the verandah ever though I was certain people lived in the house. Not that I took that road often.


In time the window and my own anticipation of seeing a face reflected in the mirror became a fixture on my journeys to Panjim and beyond in much the same manner that local Goan youth in half pants who hawked crabs roadside not far the house with the mirror came to be ‘permanent’ markers of my rides west through my growing years.

Over the years, each time the bus takes the curve revealing the stretch that straightens on the arrow, flanked by tidal waters that back up along narrow water channels the Madkai flats fill up, I expect to see local men, mostly youth, roadside holding out wriggling crabs to passing motorists.


They fish in the Khazan fields near the Banastarim bridge, scouring mangroves for crabs in the waters regulated by sluice gates. The Kurleo, as crabs are called in Konkani, are a favoured delicacy among Goans.

 


They leave crab nets with baits in the water all along narrow walking bunds before collecting their catch hours later. They sell their catch by the roadside in the evening as office-goers return home.

It’s a familiar sight. Even the faces are familiar though as years pass, some faces, of young men who’ve left the village for jobs elsewhere, change. But the crabs continue to be sold roadside in Bhoma to this day.


Of the mirror I am not so sure. I’d like to believe it’s still there, like the barges that creep up the Mandovi, a constant on my journeys along that river.


Or for that matter the fading blue signboard hanging from projecting balconies of a house past Old Goa, its distinctly projecting letters testifying to its antiquity as prominently as its spelling – Caxinata for Kashinath, and Camotim for Kamat or Kamath, reminding passers-by of its Portuguese roots from a good fifty years or more ago.


I tend to unconsciously look for the rusting board on approaching the turn nearing Ribandar, another of those signposts promising continuity with the old, with childhood, with youth, with carefree times.  

Caxinata P. Camotim
E
Irmao Limitada

Together, each of them, and there are many more, ensured continuity over time at least over that stretch of road, reassuring me that nothing has changed even though much has. Their presence meant though years had passed, time hadn’t.

They are my ‘permanent’ signposts. I used them, along with many others, to relate to a land and a people I left long ago to make my living elsewhere.

I seek them afresh each time I return to Goa to renew my bond with it.


December 26, 2012

Footnotes: Moments In Repose, An Exhibition Of My Photographs



Click images to enlarge

My photography exhibition - Footnotes: Moments in Repose - opens at the Jehangir Art Gallery, Kala Ghoda, Mumbai, today.

The 50+ photographs on display were made over years of my travels across India, seeking backdrops that place the everyday in historical, cultural and traditional contexts.

They are about people, and their immediate contexts. Moments caught in transit. Moments that came to stay.

I’ve attempted to turn the fleeting into a temporary permanence, seeking their meaning as much in what the moments framed seek to reveal as in their act of concealment.

Ordinary people, their ordinary moments.

Among the places I've featured are New Delhi, Jodhpur, Deeg, Kurukshetra, Nashik, Mumbai, Kolkata, Goa, Uttarakhand, Murshidabad, Bijapur, Afzalpur, Mysore, Varanasi, Baroda, and Mumbai among others.



Why Footnotes?

It took me some time to realise the two-sided nature to most things on the street and off it – You cannot walk towards something without walking away from something else. To wait is to wander, for while the feet rest, the eyes do not. A moment frozen comes alive in the continuity it promises, for continuity is no more than a succession of stillness. To meander is to wait on the move. And you only ever come home when you’re away.

Each moment dwells in a duality, a duality that’s singular at the point of convergence. And it’s in this duality I wandered on the streets, seeking the transitory in the continuous, revelling in the light the shadows revealed.

I sought the middle ground, the space where a moment is in the middle of a transition. Having shed its origin in the very instant it begins to transform into an ending, it shows neither the beginning, nor the end.

Lacking the identity of either it becomes a footnote, like life itself.

~

Do come over and see the exhibition, and if family and friends are not averse to seeing yet another India-centric exhibition of photographs, bring them along too, and help put the word out. Thanks in advance. 

Venue: Jehangir Art Gallery, Kala Ghoda, Mumbai 
Duration: 26 Dec, 2012 - 2 Jan, 2013 (open on all days). 
Timings: 11 a.m. – 7 p.m.

November 30, 2012

Geeta Saar, Immortal Wisdom



I’m in Kurukshetra. It’s warm and sunny. The visit took a long time coming. Someday, I used to tell myself every once in a while over the years gone by, I’ll walk the hallowed grounds and imagine the setting that defined the consciousness of a nation, and the centrality of life in a home my Mum shaped for us.


Accompanied by Sharmaji I walk slowly toward the chariot behind Brahma Sarovar in Thanesar. I can see the charioteer in the distance. I see Arjuna, his quiver of arrows. Krishna holds the reins as he turns his face toward Arjuna. Both are frozen in a moment that adorns countless living rooms around the country, including our own from as long back as I can remember. The four horses stand poised. The legacy of a civilisation stands poised.

This was the place, I tell myself as I turn around and take in the serenity, and the silence. It’s around here it happened. It’s from here I derive a part of my identity. And it’s here Geeta Saar still echoes with its import and insight, radiating outward from the very earth that blood once covered.


Stepping up to a board Haryana Tourism has put up, I trail my eyes along the familiar, letting the words sink in, stirred by their import, their significance, and the insight of the charioteer, Krishna.   


क्यों व्यर्थ चिंता करते हो?
किससे व्यर्थ डरते हो?
कौन तुम्हें मार सक्ता है?
अात्मा ना पैदा होती है, मरती है।

Why do you worry without cause?
Whom do you fear without reason?
Who can kill you?
The soul is neither born, nor does it die.

~

जो हुअा, वह अच्छा हुअा,
जो हो रहा है, वह अच्छा हो रहा है,
जो होगा, वह भी अच्छा ही होगा।
तुम भूत का पश्चाताप न करो।
भविष्य की चिन्ता न करो। वर्तमान चल रहा है।


Whatever happened, happened for the good;
whatever is happening, is happening for the good;
whatever will happen, will also happen for the good.
Do not have regrets for the past.
Do not worry for the future.
The present is happening.

~


तुम्हारा क्या गया, जो तुम रोते हो?
तुम क्या लाए थे, जो तुमने खो दिया?
तुमने क्या पैदा किया था, जो नाश हो गया?
तुम कुछ लेकर अाए, जो लिया यहीं से लिया।
जो दिया, यहीं पर दिया।
जो लिया, इसी (भगवान) से लिया।
जो दिया, इसी को दिया।
खाली हाथ अाए अौर खाली हाथ चले।
जो अाज तुम्हारा है, कल अौर किसी का था, परसों किसी अौर का होगा।
तुम इसे अपना समझ कर मग्न हो रहे हो।
बस यही प्रसन्नता तुम्हारे दु:खों का कारण है।


What did you lose that you cry about?
What did you bring with you, which you think you have lost?
What did you produce, which you think got destroyed?
You did not bring anything, whatever you have, you received from here.
Whatever you have given, you have given only here.
Whatever you took, you took from God. Whatever you gave, you gave to him.
You came empty handed, you will leave empty handed.
What is yours today, belonged to someone else yesterday, and 
will belong to someone else the day after tomorrow.
You are mistakenly enjoying the thought that this is yours.
It is this false happiness that is the cause of your sorrows.

~

परिवर्तन संसार का नियम है।
जिसे तुम मृत्यु समझते हो, वही तो जीवन है।
एक क्षण में तुम करोड़ों के स्वामी बन जाते हो, दूसरे ही क्षण में तुम दरिद्र हो जाते हो।
मेरा-तेरा, छोटा-बड़ा, अपना-पराया, मन से मिटा दो, फिर सब तुम्हारा है, तुम सबके हो।


Change is the law of the universe.
What you think of as death, is indeed life.
In one instance you can be a millionaire, and in the next instance you can be steeped in poverty.
Yours and mine, big and small - erase these ideas from your mind, then everything is yours and you belong to everyone.

~

यह शरीर तुम्हारा है, तुम शरीर के हो।
यह अग्नि, जल, वायु, पृथ्वी, अाकाश से बना है अौर इसी में मिल जायेगा।
परन्तु अात्मा स्थिर है - फिर तुम क्या हो?


This body is not yours, neither are you of the body. The body is made of fire, water, air, earth and ether, and will disappear into these elements. But the soul is permanent - so who are you?


~


Later, we drive on to where Gita Updesh (Updesh = Teaching) was given by Lord Krishna to Arjuna in the middle of the battlefield, just before the Kurukshetra War commenced.


Here, portions of the celestial song rung again in the shade of the tree. Here. Here. Hear. Hear.


Note: Neither the shlokas nor the translations are my constructs. Like his teachings, they are to be found everywhere you turn, everywhere you do not seek.