Melodies of Life (Turlapati nagabhushana Rao)

  “Upma is being served on badam (Indian almond) leaves… you all go and have it!” Mom said. We immediately stopped playing and ran over. The cooks were making hot, fresh upma in a small cauldron placed on an earthen fireplace. Firewood was burning underneath, and since we went too close, we could really feel the heat on our skin. Just then, one of the cooks snapped, “Hey kids! Don’t come so close to the fireplace … you’ll burn your skin. Be careful!” “My mom said they’re serving upma,” one of my friends said. “It’s not ready yet. It will take about ten minutes—go, play for a while and come back,” he replied. That whole scene is still so clear in my memory. Most of the cooks were men, with just one or two women. I remember my grandmother proudly saying that they were all cooking in a state of Madi (physical purity after a bath). I already knew a bit about madi back then. I had been hearing about it since childhood. Basically, madi means wearing wet clothes, or clothes that have been...

  In front of the Lord’s Sanctum Sanctorum at Tirumala Venkateswara Swamy Temple, the Dhwajastambham (flagstaff) gleamed with a golden radiance. Devotees, filled with longing to have a darshan were eagerly waiting - “When will we behold the Lord with our own eyes?” That intense yearning was leading to pushing and jostling in the crowd. Yet, those immersed in devotional ecstasy hardly felt the discomfort. As we neared the Dhwajastambham, my wife Smt. Sridevi suddenly collapsed, saying that she couldn’t walk anymore. Seeing her suffering, a security guard moved both of us out of the crowded main queue. Even in such pain, she did not stop chanting “Govinda.” Sitting on the ground and dragging herself forward, she kept trying to move ahead. In that condition, would she be able to have Darshan? Still, inch by inch, she crawled across the Dhwajastambham. Just then, two young volunteers arrived, “Amma, you will definitely have Darshan. If you’re okay with it, we will carry you.” “What tro...