The Hindu on January 12, 2011, in its religion column featured an article I wish to share. It talks about Lord Vishnu's boundless love for his devotees. Let me quote the article in full.
The Lord is bound by the love of His devotees. Just as an elephant is controlled by a mahout who uses a small stick to prod the animal, so does our bhakti enslave the Lord.
Our bhakti is akin to the mahout's instrument. An example of how He is tied up by our bhakti is seen in the Krishna avatara, in which Yasoda ties Him up to the pounding stone. But in reality, does she indeed tie Him up? Is it possible for us to tie up the Lord, without His willingness? In Yasoda's case, He was tied up because of her love for Him. Our love is the rope that binds Him. He allows Yasoda to tie Him up; He allows us to tie Him up with our love, said Kidambi Narayanan.
When Yasoda tries to tie Him up, she finds that the rope she has with her is always two feet short. Krishna therefore shrinks His body, so that she can tie Him up.
The Lord who measured the three worlds becomes smaller, because of Yasoda's love. Why is the rope short by two feet? Here, there is a philosophical meaning to be read into the episode. There are two things we need to approach the Lord. One is gnana and the other is anushtana, the observance of prescribed practices.
We all have pride. Unless we give up our pride, we cannot have gnana. If we realise that He is everything, He becomes a slave to us. In the Krishna avatara, He humbled Himself to become Arjuna's charioteer. He even bathed the horses! When His childhood friend Sudhama comes visiting, He seats His friend on a throne and asks His consort Rukmini to wash his feet. He remarks that the water, having touched Sudhama's feet, has become pure. He is happiest in the presence of His devotees. He says He gladly takes any name His devotees choose to give Him.
At the end of the Kurukshetra war, when Yudhistra approaches Him and asks Him what He has been doing, Krishna replies that He has been worshipping.
Surprised, Yudhistra asks Him who He has been worshipping, and Krishna replies that He has been worshipping the best of His bhaktas — Bhishma. Thus the Lord, the Supreme One, worships His devotees!
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Religion. Show all posts
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Wednesday, September 22, 2010
Srivaishnavite Invocation
" LakshmeenAtha samArambhAm nAthAyamuna madhyamAm |
asmadAcArya paryantAm vande guruparamparAm || "
I found this translation elsewhere. It goes like this : That wondrous lineage of preceptors, that starts with Sriman Narayana, and came through Nathamuni down to my own
Acharya, I salute that.
asmadAcArya paryantAm vande guruparamparAm || "
I found this translation elsewhere. It goes like this : That wondrous lineage of preceptors, that starts with Sriman Narayana, and came through Nathamuni down to my own
Acharya, I salute that.
Saturday, October 31, 2009
Flowchart for choosing your religion
Found this in Amit's Indiauncut blog, pretty hilarious.
Flowcharts are a great way to make sense out of confusing scenarios, and there's no scenario that's more confusing than trying to figure out what religion you should follow. That's why we've created this helpful flowchart to guide you through the process:
Flowcharts are a great way to make sense out of confusing scenarios, and there's no scenario that's more confusing than trying to figure out what religion you should follow. That's why we've created this helpful flowchart to guide you through the process:
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
We Are All Hindus Now
This is the first para from the article in the Newsweek:
America is not a Christian nation. We are, it is true, a nation founded by Christians, and according to a 2008 survey, 76 percent of us continue to identify as Christian (still, that's the lowest percentage in American history). Of course, we are not a Hindu—or Muslim, or Jewish, or Wiccan—nation, either. A million-plus Hindus live in the United States, a fraction of the billion who live on Earth. But recent poll data show that conceptually, at least, we are slowly becoming more like Hindus and less like traditional Christians in the ways we think about God, our selves, each other, and eternity.
For full article, read http://www.newsweek.com/id/212155
America is not a Christian nation. We are, it is true, a nation founded by Christians, and according to a 2008 survey, 76 percent of us continue to identify as Christian (still, that's the lowest percentage in American history). Of course, we are not a Hindu—or Muslim, or Jewish, or Wiccan—nation, either. A million-plus Hindus live in the United States, a fraction of the billion who live on Earth. But recent poll data show that conceptually, at least, we are slowly becoming more like Hindus and less like traditional Christians in the ways we think about God, our selves, each other, and eternity.
For full article, read http://www.newsweek.com/id/212155
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Religion Versus Superstition
"The difference between superstitions and religion is not only the difference between meaning and randomness, and between faith and anxiety, but also the difference between belief in a personal, benevolent God and fear of a pitiless Mother Nature, waiting to be appeased -- or exploited -- by mumbo jumbo. "Superstition" by definition "stands beyond" us, whereas religion is part of the human experience and interacts with it.
Superstition offers the illusion of control by manipulating nature or revealing her occult intent. If the spells are recited properly, all should be well. It's a big "if," however. Religion gives the promise, rather than the illusion, of hope. God does not always respond as we would like; loved ones die, livelihoods are lost. Mystery is deepened and hopefully, with faith, leads to peace rather than disillusionment. Accidental similarities between religion and magic should not lead anyone to confuse the difference in their content."
For the full article google Is One Man's Faith Another's Superstition ? an article by David Gibson in WSJ.
Superstition offers the illusion of control by manipulating nature or revealing her occult intent. If the spells are recited properly, all should be well. It's a big "if," however. Religion gives the promise, rather than the illusion, of hope. God does not always respond as we would like; loved ones die, livelihoods are lost. Mystery is deepened and hopefully, with faith, leads to peace rather than disillusionment. Accidental similarities between religion and magic should not lead anyone to confuse the difference in their content."
For the full article google Is One Man's Faith Another's Superstition ? an article by David Gibson in WSJ.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Being a Muslim
I read this piece by Samina Mishra in a blog I frequent. I am reproducing it. I found it very insightful and deserves wider reading in these times of poisoned communal atmosphere.
[This is a piece I wrote for India Today but the version that has appeared in the magazine is an edit that I did not agree to. It's not clear to me how that happened since I edited the longer article down to this final version and sent it in to them. But the magazine is out and I am both angry and saddened at their careless editing of ideas that are particularly under siege at this point of time.
So, here is my edit and I would be glad if it was circulated widely on the net - more widely than the magazine!
Samina
Being Muslim means many things to many people
by Samina Mishra
Not far from L18, in the posh part of Jamia Nagar, is a house on a tree-lined avenue that will always be home to me. But my life, with all its easy privileges, could not be more different from Atif and Sajid's, the two young men shot as alleged terrorists at L18. I contain multitudes, Whitman so eloquently said. But we live in a time when even multitudes are forced to lay claim to a singular label. And so by writing this, perhaps, I will forever be labelled the voice of the liberal secular Muslim. A voice that is accused of not speaking up. Ironically, it is this very tyranny of labels that grants me this space in a mainstream national magazine.
As someone with a Muslim first name and a Hindu surname, I suppose I have always swung between labels - a poster girl for communal harmony or a confused, rootless individual, depending on who was doing the labelling. I went to a public school and have never worn a burkha. I might escape being thrown in the big cauldron with "Islamic Terrorists" but I will certainly be added to the one for "misguided intellectuals" . While there is no mistaking
that it is zealous nationalists who seek to light the fire under the first cauldron, the other is a bone of contention between those who seek to define for me how to be Indian and those who seek to define for me how to be Muslim. My condemnation of the demolition of the Babri Masjid, Imrana's rape or the media circus around Gudiya will always be seen in the context of my
privileged background, my gender, my religious identity. Perhaps, it can be no other way.
In this rhetoric of binaries of "us and them", it is difficult to find the space to create a new paradigm of discussion. And so, in conversations that throw up Islamic terrorists, rigid religious beliefs, Pakistan and madrasas, the response is inevitably another set of questions - why is the Bajrang Dal not labelled a terrorist outfit, why is the growing public display of Hindu festivals like Navratras and Karva Chauth not considered rigid religious beliefs, why should Muslims in India be answerable for what goes on in Pakistan, what spaces other than madrasas are available for thousands of believing Muslims who choose to get educated and still retain their Muslim-ness. As a Muslim in India today, not only are you fighting to shrug off the label of fundamentalist- if not terrorist - but you are also succumbing to a paradigm of dialogue which has been set for homogenous communities with clear markers of identities.
But how does one fight that when shared cultural spaces, other than those created by the market, shrink? How does one speak of the diversity of being Indian when Diwali is celebrated in schools and Eid just in Muslim homes? How does one avoid a singular label for experiences that are diverse and yet have a common thread running through them - the experience of a tailor in
Ahmedabad whose Hindu patrons have stopped giving work to, the butcher in Batla House who couldn't get a bank loan, the software professional who will now have to watch every single byte that leaves his computer.
Being Muslim in India today means many things to many people. But how easy it is to forget that one fundamental reality. How easy it is to say, as someone said to me after the Delhi blasts - "These are all educated Muslims. Don't they know that their bombs can also kill their own?" As if everyone with a Muslim name is a terrorist's very "own".
In the India Today
[This is a piece I wrote for India Today but the version that has appeared in the magazine is an edit that I did not agree to. It's not clear to me how that happened since I edited the longer article down to this final version and sent it in to them. But the magazine is out and I am both angry and saddened at their careless editing of ideas that are particularly under siege at this point of time.
So, here is my edit and I would be glad if it was circulated widely on the net - more widely than the magazine!
Samina
Being Muslim means many things to many people
by Samina Mishra
Not far from L18, in the posh part of Jamia Nagar, is a house on a tree-lined avenue that will always be home to me. But my life, with all its easy privileges, could not be more different from Atif and Sajid's, the two young men shot as alleged terrorists at L18. I contain multitudes, Whitman so eloquently said. But we live in a time when even multitudes are forced to lay claim to a singular label. And so by writing this, perhaps, I will forever be labelled the voice of the liberal secular Muslim. A voice that is accused of not speaking up. Ironically, it is this very tyranny of labels that grants me this space in a mainstream national magazine.
As someone with a Muslim first name and a Hindu surname, I suppose I have always swung between labels - a poster girl for communal harmony or a confused, rootless individual, depending on who was doing the labelling. I went to a public school and have never worn a burkha. I might escape being thrown in the big cauldron with "Islamic Terrorists" but I will certainly be added to the one for "misguided intellectuals" . While there is no mistaking
that it is zealous nationalists who seek to light the fire under the first cauldron, the other is a bone of contention between those who seek to define for me how to be Indian and those who seek to define for me how to be Muslim. My condemnation of the demolition of the Babri Masjid, Imrana's rape or the media circus around Gudiya will always be seen in the context of my
privileged background, my gender, my religious identity. Perhaps, it can be no other way.
In this rhetoric of binaries of "us and them", it is difficult to find the space to create a new paradigm of discussion. And so, in conversations that throw up Islamic terrorists, rigid religious beliefs, Pakistan and madrasas, the response is inevitably another set of questions - why is the Bajrang Dal not labelled a terrorist outfit, why is the growing public display of Hindu festivals like Navratras and Karva Chauth not considered rigid religious beliefs, why should Muslims in India be answerable for what goes on in Pakistan, what spaces other than madrasas are available for thousands of believing Muslims who choose to get educated and still retain their Muslim-ness. As a Muslim in India today, not only are you fighting to shrug off the label of fundamentalist- if not terrorist - but you are also succumbing to a paradigm of dialogue which has been set for homogenous communities with clear markers of identities.
But how does one fight that when shared cultural spaces, other than those created by the market, shrink? How does one speak of the diversity of being Indian when Diwali is celebrated in schools and Eid just in Muslim homes? How does one avoid a singular label for experiences that are diverse and yet have a common thread running through them - the experience of a tailor in
Ahmedabad whose Hindu patrons have stopped giving work to, the butcher in Batla House who couldn't get a bank loan, the software professional who will now have to watch every single byte that leaves his computer.
Being Muslim in India today means many things to many people. But how easy it is to forget that one fundamental reality. How easy it is to say, as someone said to me after the Delhi blasts - "These are all educated Muslims. Don't they know that their bombs can also kill their own?" As if everyone with a Muslim name is a terrorist's very "own".
In the India Today
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