Azagar.

Vadivalagiya Nambi Perumal Koil is commonly known as Sundararaja Perumal Temple. Situated in a small south Indian village Anbil in Tiruchirapalli district of Tamil Nadu. This temple is dedicated to Lord Vishnu and also counts in 108 Divya Desam. Here Lord Vishnu is worshiped with Goddess Lakshmi in the form of Sundararaja and Sundaravalli. The temple is also known as ‘Pancha Ranga Kshetram’ of Lord Vishnu.

According to Hindu stories, a wise sage named Suthaba also known as Manduka was meditating in this special place. He had the power to live both in water and on land. One day, another sage named Durvasa came to see him, but Suthaba didn’t notice. This made Durvasa angry, and he cursed Suthaba to become a frog. Suthaba asked Durvasa how to lift the curse, and Durvasa said it was because of a mistake in his past life. He explained that Lord Vishnu would come to help him. So, Suthaba, in the form of a frog, prayed in the temple’s Mendaka Theertham, and Lord Vishnu appeared to him as Sundararaja. When Mandookamuni worshiped Vishnu at this temple, the curse was lifted, and the place got its name Mandooka Pushkarini.Another story is about Brahma, the god who created everything. He thought he was the most handsome, but Vishnu didn’t agree. To teach Brahma a lesson, Vishnu cursed him to be born as a regular person on Earth. Brahma then worshiped Vishnu to lift the curse. Vishnu appeared as a handsome young man and told Brahma that looks don’t last, and being good is more important.

The temple is also connected to stories about Brahma and Valmiki worshiping Vishnu.

The historical roots of the Sundararaja Perumal Temple trace back to the late 8th century AD, believed to have been constructed by the Medieval Cholas. Subsequent contributions from Vijayanagar kings and Madurai Nayaks have enriched its architectural and cultural significance. Notably, copper plate inscriptions from Anbil provide evidence of the Chola kings’ generous contributions to the temple. Enclosed by a granite wall, the temple encompasses all its shrines and bodies of water, situated on the picturesque banks of the Kollidam River. The temple grounds span nearly 1.5 acres of land, creating a serene and expansive spiritual haven.Sundararaja Perumal Temple showcases the distinctive Dravidian style of architecture, characterized by its elaborate design and intricate details. Following the typical pattern of Dravidian temples, this sacred site features a substantial Gopuram, serving as a prominent entrance gate, Mandapa, Garbhagriha, Shikhara and Vimana.The primary entrance of the temple is oriented towards the east and is adorned with a magnificent 3-tiered Rajagopuram, the gateway tower. At the heart of the temple lies the main shrine, housing the divine image of Sundararaja Perumal (Vishnu) in a reclining posture, accompanied by his celestial serpent Adisesha. Within the sanctum, one can also find depictions of his consorts Sridevi (Lakshmi), Bhudevi, and Brahma.The sacred space is further enriched by the presence of the festive image of Sundararaja, known as Vadivalagiya Nambi, within the sanctum. Encircling the main shrine, the precinct accommodates shrines dedicated to the twelve Alvars, Narasimha, Venugoplar, Lakshmi Narasimha (Lakshmi with Narasimha), and Hanuman. Noteworthy is the roof structure over the sanctum, resembling a gopuram, a feature typically associated with gateway towers.The front hall of the sanctum features a shrine dedicated to Andal, portrayed in both standing and seated postures through her bronze image, adding to the spiritual ambiance of the temple.

The Sundararaja Perumal Temple holds profound religious significance, embodying the devote beliefs and practices of its followers. Dedicatedto Sundararaja Perumal, a manifestation of Lord Vishnu. The temple is a place of worship, spiritual contemplation, and cultural expression.Followers believe that offering prayers and performing rituals at this sacred place can invoke the blessings of Sundararaja Perumal, bringing prosperity, protection, and spiritual well-being. The presiding deity, depicted in a reclining posture over the divine serpent Adishesha.Devotees also revere the image of Sridevi, Bhudevi, Brahma, Anadal and other deities present in the sanctum, seeking their divine intervention in various aspects of life. The festival image of Sundararaja, known as Vadivalagiya Nambi, is particularly venerated during special occasions and celebrations.The temple’s religious beliefs are deeply rooted in Hindu traditions, with rituals, prayers, and festivals serving as integral components of worship. Pilgrims visit the temple to seek solace, guidance, and spiritual upliftment, making it a vital center for religious devotion and cultural heritage.

Cultural Significance

The Sundararaja Perumal Temple holds immense cultural significance as a repository of rich traditions, artistic expressions, and communal practices. Its cultural importance extends beyond religious worship, encompassing various facets that contribute to the identity of the community.

Sundararaja Temple is a vibrant cultural hub, hosting diverse festivals, rituals, and events with music, dance, and traditional performances. These activities preserve cultural practices, serving as a center for spiritual learning through discourses and educational programs, imparting valuable knowledge. The temple creates a communal space where people unite for festivals, religious ceremonies, and community activities, fostering a sense of shared cultural identity and unity among devotees.

The sculptures, paintings, and artifacts within the temple reflect the artistic expressions of the community throughout different periods. These artworks contribute to the cultural landscape, showcasing the evolving styles and themes.

The temple attracts visitors and pilgrims from diverse backgrounds, promoting cultural exchange and understanding. This intermingling of people contributes to a broader cultural dialogue and appreciation.

The Sundararaja Perumal Temple comes alive with a rich tapestry of festivals, each offering a unique glimpse into the cultural vibrancy and spiritual exuberance of the community.Brahmotsavam Extravaganza: The temple hosts the grand annual Brahmotsavam, a spectacular festival that spans several days. It is a visual and spiritual feast, marked by vibrant processions, adorned deities, and fervent devotional fervor. The air is filled with the sounds of traditional music and the aroma of incense, creating an immersive experience for devotees and visitors alike.Vaikunta Ekadasi Bliss: Vaikunta Ekadasi, a celestial occasion celebrated with great enthusiasm, witnesses devotees converging to seek the divine blessings of Lord Sundararaja Perumal. Elaborate rituals, sacred processions, and heartfelt prayers mark this auspicious day, creating an atmosphere of spiritual joy and devotion.Special Events and Significance: Beyond these major festivals, the temple hosts a myriad of special events throughout the year, each steeped in religious significance. These may include celestial weddings, divine processions, and other rituals that add layers of cultural depth to the temple’s festivities.Cultural Dynamism: The festivals at Sundararaja Perumal Temple are not just religious observances but vibrant expressions of cultural dynamism. Traditional dance performances, melodious music, and artistic displays become integral components, captivating the senses and adding a colorful dimension to the spiritual celebrations.The festivals at Sundararaja Perumal Temple transcend mere rituals; they are immersive experiences that bring together communities, fostering a shared cultural identity and deepening the spiritual connection with the divine.

When the Ocean Began to Dry

Long ago, when the earth was still learning how to hold itself steady, the oceans grew arrogant.

They rose without restraint, swallowing villages, forests, and sacred hermitages. Rivers pleaded with them to remain within their bounds. Kings prayed. Even the devas watched helplessly as the sea surged beyond dharma, forgetting that vastness does not mean lawlessness.

At last, the cries reached Sage Agastya—small in stature, immense in tapas, whose very presence bent the pride of mountains.

Agastya stood on the shore and commanded the ocean to withdraw.

The ocean laughed.

“How can I, who hold the moon’s pull and the earth’s secrets, obey a sage no taller than a child?”

Agastya did not argue.

He did not threaten.

He lifted his kamandalu—his humble water vessel—and drank the ocean.

Not a wave resisted.

Not a tide escaped.

The sea receded, mile by mile, until its bed lay bare—revealing sunken treasures, lost ships, swallowed cities, and demons who had hidden in its depths, preying upon the world from beneath its cover.

The earth breathed again.

The Ocean’s Realization

Drained of its pride and power, the ocean understood what strength truly was—not roar, not size, but restraint guided by wisdom.

Humbled, Samudra bowed to Agastya and said:

“O Sage, I forgot my boundary and my purpose.

I was meant to receive, not to steal.

To hold, not to hoard.

Forgive me.”

Agastya replied:

“You may return—but never as you were.”

Before releasing the waters, the sage laid down a solemn condition, a vow that the ocean itself would uphold:

The Ocean’s Promise

“From this day onward,” said Agastya,

“Whatever enters you unjustly, unwillingly, or in sorrow,

you shall return to the shore in time.

What is lost to accident, cruelty, or fate

shall not remain hidden forever in your depths.”

The ocean agreed.

And so, when Agastya released the waters, the sea returned—calmer, contained, obedient to the shoreline drawn for it.

Why This Story Still Lives

This is why, even today:

The sea returns bodies to the shore.

Lost objects sometimes reappear after years.

Fisherfolk say, “The ocean keeps nothing that does not belong to it.”

Coastal elders whisper, “Samudra remembers his promise.”

The story is not merely about geography—it is about cosmic ethics.

The Deeper Meaning

The ocean represents desire, accumulation, and unchecked power.

Agastya represents inner mastery.

When desire crosses its boundary, it must be drained by discipline.

Only then can it return—purified and purposeful.

And the promise?

It tells us something profoundly comforting:

Nothing truly meant for the world is ever lost forever.

Time, like the ocean, may delay—but dharma ensures return.

Clarity.

 The Bhagavad Gītā is so often quoted that we sometimes overlook how radically unique it is as a scripture. Beyond its well-known teachings on karma, bhakti, and jñāna, the Gītā possesses several rare and astonishing features that set it apart from every other sacred text in the world. unique features—some subtle, some profound—that reveal why the Gītā is not merely a book, but a living spiritual event.

1. A Scripture Spoken Mid-Action, Not in Retreat

Most spiritual texts are revealed:

in forests,

in monasteries,

in silence or seclusion.

The Gītā alone is spoken between two armies ready to destroy each other.

Spiritual wisdom is delivered at the very edge of catastrophe.

This teaches a revolutionary idea:

Enlightenment is not postponed until life settles down. It must arise in the midst of chaos.

2. The Student Is Not a Sinner but a Good Man in Crisis

Arjuna is:

morally upright,

compassionate,

skilled,

dutiful.

Yet he collapses.

This is unique. The Gītā does not address a criminal or a fallen soul, but a noble person overwhelmed by righteousness itself.

The message: Even goodness can become paralysis without wisdom.

3. No Commandment—Only Clarity

Krishna never says:

“You must believe this.”

“This alone is truth.”

“Disobey and perish.”

Instead, He says:

“Vimṛśyaitad aśeṣeṇa yathecchasi tathā kuru”

“Reflect on this fully, and then do as you choose.”

 The Gītā is the only major scripture that ends by restoring free will, not demanding submission.

4. The Lord Does Not Save Arjuna—He Educates Him

Krishna does not:

remove the war,

kill the enemies Himself,

change fate.

He changes Arjuna’s understanding.

 The Gītā teaches that knowledge, not miracles, is the highest grace.

5. A Text That Accepts Multiple Paths Without Hierarchy

The Gītā uniquely validates:

Karma Yoga (action),

Jñāna Yoga (knowledge),

Bhakti Yoga (devotion),

Dhyāna Yoga (meditation).

Not as competing systems, but as interwoven dimensions of one life.

It is not “either–or,” but “as much as you can live.”

6. God as a Friend, Not a Judge

Krishna is:

a charioteer,

a cousin,

a friend who listens patiently.

No thunder. No threat. No fear.

This intimacy between the human and the divine is unmatched.

The Gītā introduces Sakhā Bhāva—God who walks beside you, not above you.

7. A Scripture Without Ritual Dependency

The Gītā requires:

no priest,

no temple,

no special time,

no offerings.

Its battlefield setting itself declares:

Every place is sacred if awareness is present.

8. It Addresses Psychological Collapse Before Philosophy

Arjuna’s symptoms are listed clinically:

trembling,

dry mouth,

burning skin,

confusion,

dropping the bow.

The Gītā is one of the earliest texts to diagnose existential anxiety before offering metaphysics.

It is as much a manual for inner breakdown as it is a spiritual treatise.

9. It Reframes Renunciation in a Radical Way

Renunciation is not:

abandoning family,

fleeing responsibility,

escaping the world.

Krishna says:

“Na karmaṇām anārambhān naiṣkarmyaṁ puruṣo’śnute”

“Not by avoiding action does one attain freedom.”

 True renunciation is inner detachment while fully engaged.

10. The Teaching Evolves with the Listener

Krishna’s instruction is adaptive:

philosophy for the intellect,

devotion for the heart,

discipline for the restless mind.

The Gītā changes tone, depth, and method—because Arjuna changes.

This makes it a living dialogue, not a static doctrine.

11. The Gītā Is Self-Contained Yet Infinite

In just 700 verses, it contains:

Vedānta,

Sāṅkhya,

Yoga,

Bhakti,

ethics,

psychology,

cosmology.

Yet it never claims to replace the Vedas—only to distill their essence.

 It is both a summary and a gateway.

12. Victory Is Inner, Not External

The war still happens. People still die. Loss still occurs.

But Arjuna is no longer broken.

 The Gītā’s real victory is clarity amid inevitability, not escape from pain.

The Bhagavad Gītā is unique because it does not promise:

a painless life,

a perfect world,

instant salvation.

It offers something far greater:

A way to stand upright in the storm, see clearly, act rightly, and remain inwardly free.

Banshi Chalisa

॥ श्री कृष्ण चालीसा ॥

॥ दोहा ॥

बंशी शोभित कर मधुर, नील जलद तन श्याम।

अरुण अधर जनु बिम्बफल, नयन कमल अभिराम॥

पूर्ण इन्द्र, अरविन्द मुख, पीताम्बर शुभ साज।

जय मनमोहन मदन छवि, कृष्णचन्द्र महाराज॥

॥ चौपाई ॥

जय यदुनन्दन जय जगवन्दन।

जय वसुदेव देवकी नन्दन॥

जय यशुदा सुत नन्द दुलारे।

जय प्रभु भक्तन के दृग तारे॥

जय नट-नागर नाग नथैया।

कृष्ण कन्हैया धेनु चरैया॥

पुनि नख पर प्रभु गिरिवर धारो।

आओ दीनन कष्ट निवारो॥

वंशी मधुर अधर धरी तेरी।

होवे पूर्ण मनोरथ मेरी॥

आओ हरि पुनि माखन चाखो।

आज लाज भारत की राखो॥

गोल कपोल चिबुक अरुणारे।

मृदु मुस्कान मोहिनि डारे॥

राजित राजिव नयन विशाला।

मोर मुकुट वैजन्ती माला॥

कुण्डल श्रवण पीत पट साजै।

कटि किंकिनी सब्दत बाजै॥

चरण कमल को शरण में राखो।

कृपा निधि भव पार उतारो॥

बाल लीला अति अद्भुत भारी।

ब्रज में करत प्रेम की वर्षा भारी॥

उद्धव गीता ज्ञान सुनाए।

भक्तन को भव पार लगाए॥

रुक्मिणी के संग प्रेम बढ़ायो।

सत्यभामा संग लीला रचायो॥

द्रौपदी की लाज बचाई।

सभा बीच गिरधर ध्याई॥

मीरा के प्रभु गिरधर नागर।

भक्ति रस में डूबे सागर॥

कंस विदारक भक्त सहाई।

काल नेमि ते भय न खाई॥

कालिय नाग नृत्य कर डारो।

यमुना जल को शुद्ध उतारो॥

जो यह चालीसा गावे गाई।

सुख सम्पत्ति निश्चय पाई॥

श्रद्धा भक्ति संग ध्यान लगावे।

मोहन कृपा शीघ्र ही पावे॥

॥ दोहा ॥

यह चालीसा कृष्ण का, पाठ करे जो कोय।

सकल मनोरथ सिद्ध हो, सिद्धि सदा सुख होय॥

ŚRĪ KṚṢṆA CHĀLĪSĀ

बंशी शोभित कर मधुर, नील जलद तन श्याम।

अरुण अधर जनु बिम्बफल, नयन कमल अभिराम॥

The sweet flute adorns His hands; His body is dark like a rain-laden cloud.

His lips glow red like ripe berries, and His eyes are as beautiful as blooming lotuses.

पूर्ण इन्द्र, अरविन्द मुख, पीताम्बर शुभ साज।

जय मनमोहन मदन छवि, कृष्णचन्द्र महाराज॥

His face shines like a full moon, His attire is radiant yellow silk.

Victory to Krishna—the enchanter of hearts, more captivating than even Cupid.

जय यदुनन्दन जय जगवन्दन।

जय वसुदेव देवकी नन्दन॥

Victory to the joy of the Yadu dynasty, worshipped by the whole world.

Victory to the son of Vasudeva and Devakī.

जय यशुदा सुत नन्द दुलारे।

जय प्रभु भक्तन के दृग तारे॥

Victory to the beloved son of Yaśodā and Nanda.

Victory to the Lord who is the star of His devotees’ eyes.

जय नट-नागर नाग नथैया।

कृष्ण कन्हैया धेनु चरैया॥

Victory to the divine actor and supreme charmer.

Victory to Krishna, the subduer of Kāliya, the cowherd of Vṛndāvana.

पुनि नख पर प्रभु गिरिवर धारो।

आओ दीनन कष्ट निवारो॥

O Lord, who lifted Govardhana on Your little finger,

come and remove the sufferings of the helpless.

वंशी मधुर अधर धरी तेरी।

होवे पूर्ण मनोरथ मेरी॥

May Your sweet flute touch Your lips again,

and may all my heartfelt wishes be fulfilled.

आओ हरि पुनि माखन चाखो।

आज लाज भारत की राखो॥

Come again, O Hari, to taste butter as in childhood,

and today protect the honor of this sacred land.

गोल कपोल चिबुक अरुणारे।

मृदु मुस्कान मोहिनि डारे॥

Your rounded cheeks and rosy chin glow,

Your gentle smile casts a spell of enchantment.

राजित राजिव नयन विशाला।

मोर मुकुट वैजन्ती माला॥

Your wide lotus eyes shine brilliantly,

adorned with a peacock crown and Vaijayantī garland.

कुण्डल श्रवण पीत पट साजै।

कटि किंकिनी सब्दत बाजै॥

Earrings grace Your ears, yellow silk clothes You,

and bells at Your waist create divine music.

चरण कमल को शरण में राखो।

कृपा निधि भव पार उतारो॥

Grant me refuge at Your lotus feet,

O ocean of mercy, ferry me across worldly existence.

बाल लीला अति अद्भुत भारी।

ब्रज में करत प्रेम की वर्षा भारी॥

Your childhood pastimes are wondrous beyond measure,

showering torrents of love upon the land of Braj.

उद्धव गीता ज्ञान सुनाए।

भक्तन को भव पार लगाए॥

Through Uddhava You revealed divine wisdom,

guiding devotees beyond the ocean of rebirth.

रुक्मिणी के संग प्रेम बढ़ायो।

सत्यभामा संग लीला रचायो॥

With Rukmiṇī You embodied pure love,

with Satyabhāmā You enacted playful divine sport.

द्रौपदी की लाज बचाई।

सभा बीच गिरधर ध्याई॥

You saved Draupadī’s honor in the royal court,

when she called upon Giridhārī with full faith.

मीरा के प्रभु गिरधर नागर।

भक्ति रस में डूबे सागर॥

You are Meera’s beloved Giridhār,

an infinite ocean immersed in devotion’s nectar.

कंस विदारक भक्त सहाई।

काल नेमि ते भय न खाई॥

Destroyer of Kaṁsa, protector of devotees,

You fear neither death nor destiny.

कालिय नाग नृत्य कर डारो।

यमुना जल को शुद्ध उतारो॥

You danced upon Kāliya’s heads,

purifying the waters of the Yamunā.

जो यह चालीसा गावे गाई।

सुख सम्पत्ति निश्चय पाई॥

Whoever sings or recites this Chālīsā,

surely attains happiness and prosperity.

श्रद्धा भक्ति संग ध्यान लगावे।

मोहन कृपा शीघ्र ही पावे॥

One who recites with faith, devotion, and meditation

quickly receives the grace of the Enchanter, Mohana.

यह चालीसा कृष्ण का, पाठ करे जो कोय।

सकल मनोरथ सिद्ध हो, सिद्धि सदा सुख होय॥

Whoever recites this Krishna Chālīsā,

all desires are fulfilled, and lasting peace and success are attained.

An opening unlike any other

 The opening is, indeed, one of the most extraordinary and mysterious openings in the history of world literature—the first verse of the Bhagavad Gītā, placed within the vast ocean of the Mahābhārata.

धृतराष्ट्र उवाच

धर्मक्षेत्रे कुरुक्षेत्रे समवेता युयुत्सवः ।

मामकाः पाण्डवाश्चैव किमकुर्वत सञ्जय ॥

Dhṛtarāṣṭra said:

“On the sacred field of Kurukṣetra, gathered and eager for battle, what did my sons and the sons of Pāṇḍu do, O Sañjaya?”

An opening unlike any other

This single verse contains layers of mystery, symbolism, and philosophical depth that no ordinary human imagination could casually conceive.

1. A blind king “seeing” through another

The speaker, Dhṛtarāṣṭra, is blind—physically and spiritually. Yet he asks about events unfolding miles away on a battlefield. The listener, Sañjaya, possesses divya dṛṣṭi (divine sight), a boon granted by Vyāsa, enabling him to see and hear everything happening on the battlefield in real time.

This is not merely poetic imagination. It is:

Vision beyond the senses

Knowledge unbound by distance

Consciousness surpassing the physical body

In today’s language, it feels uncannily like live transmission, remote viewing, or even cosmic broadcasting—conceived thousands of years before such ideas were imaginable.

2. The blindness is not accidental

Dhṛtarāṣṭra’s blindness is not just physical. It is moral and spiritual blindness. Though he knows Kurukṣetra is Dharmakṣetra (a field of righteousness), he still refers to the warriors as:

“Māmakāḥ” – my sons

“Pāṇḍavāḥ” – the sons of Pāṇḍu

Even in his first question, attachment speaks louder than truth. The Gītā begins not with Krishna, not with Arjuna—but with human blindness, bias, and insecurity.

What greater honesty can a scripture have?

3. The war is outer, the dialogue is inner

The battlefield is Kurukṣetra—but the real war is:

Between dharma and attachment

Between ego and surrender

Between ignorance and knowledge

The Gītā opens not with action, but with a question. And that question arises from fear, uncertainty, and clinging—the very conditions that plague every human heart.

4. Sanjaya: the silent miracle

Sañjaya does not boast of his divine sight. He simply narrates. He is:

Detached, yet fully aware

Witnessing violence without being consumed by it

A symbol of the sakṣi (inner witness)

The Gītā subtly teaches that true vision belongs not to the eyes, but to consciousness.

5. Could any human mind imagine such an opening?

Ask honestly:

A blind king

A distant war

A seer with divine vision

A sacred battlefield

A conversation that leads to the highest philosophy of life

All placed before the central teaching even begins.

This is not literary cleverness. This is revelatory architecture.

The opening itself is a philosophical statement:

Those who are blind to dharma must rely on those who can see—but even then, truth may not enter the heart.

Is the Gītā the greatest book on earth?

If greatness is measured by:

Timeless relevance

Depth compressed into brevity

Applicability to kings, warriors, householders, seekers

Philosophy that heals despair, confusion, and fear

A dialogue that begins in darkness and ends in illumination

Then yes—the Bhagavad Gītā stands unmatched.

It does not demand belief.

It invites inquiry.

It does not glorify war.

It uses war to explain life.

And it begins not with God speaking—but with a blind man asking a question.

What opening could be more profound than that?

Is the Bhagavad Gītā the greatest book on earth?

The Gītā does not belong to one time, one nation, or one faith. It speaks to:

The ruler burdened by responsibility

The warrior paralysed by doubt

The householder torn between duty and desire

The seeker longing for meaning

It teaches without preaching.

It uplifts without denying reality.

It begins in blindness and ends in illumination.

And it dares to open with a man who cannot see—asking what is happening in a world he helped destroy.

If greatness lies in timeless relevance, spiritual depth, and unflinching honesty about the human condition, then yes—

The Bhagavad Gītā is not merely the greatest book on earth.

It is the mirror before which humanity has stood for millennia.

And it all begins with a single question, asked in darkness, waiting for light.

Bridging memory.

Miss you Kirit bhai, my constant partner during the season. 

When the Sky Remembers Us:

The Deeper Meaning of Kite Flying in India

On certain days in India—most vividly around Makar Sankranti—the sky becomes crowded not just with kites, but with memory, meaning, and shared life. Rooftops fill, voices rise, strings tighten, and the air itself seems to participate in celebration. What appears to be a simple pastime reveals itself as a living tradition, rich with seasonal wisdom, social awareness, and quiet spiritual insight.

Saluting the Sun, Welcoming Change

Kite flying marks the Sun’s northward journey —a turning point celebrated across India as auspicious. The chill of winter begins to soften, days grow longer, and warmth returns to the earth. By lifting kites toward the sky, people symbolically reach out to the Sun, acknowledging its role as the source of life, rhythm, and renewal.

Traditional wisdom also recognized this as a time for the body to awaken. Stepping into open terraces, absorbing sunlight, and engaging in movement after winter were woven naturally into joy. Celebration and well-being were never separate.

The Kite as a Silent Teacher

A kite never flies by freedom alone. It rises because it is held.

The string, often overlooked, is essential—it represents discipline, awareness, and conscious control. The open sky stands for limitlessness and divine possibility. Between the two lies balance. Indian thought has long understood that true elevation in life comes not from cutting all ties, but from holding the right ones with wisdom.

Rooftops Without Walls

During kite festivals, rooftops lose their boundaries. Neighbours greet one another across parapets, families gather across generations, and strangers become companions in joy. Age, status, and difference dissolve as eyes turn skyward.

The sky belongs equally to all.

Rooftops as Living Family Registers

Yet something more subtle unfolds. Neighbours quietly observe—not with intrusion, but with familiarity.

Who has come this year?

Who is missing?

Which child now flies independently?

Which elder’s presence is remembered rather than seen?

A son visiting from afar, a new daughter-in-law learning the rhythm of the festival, grandchildren holding strings for the first time—each presence is noticed and remembered. Later, these observations turn into gentle conversations, anecdotes, and stories.

Thus, kite flying becomes a collective remembrance, where families are not anonymous units but continuing narratives, lovingly tracked by the community.

Stories That Rise With the Kites

As kites cross in the sky, stories cross on rooftops. Old memories surface, comparisons are made without judgment, and time folds gently upon itself. The past is recalled, the present celebrated, and the future glimpsed through children learning to balance wind and string.

In a world increasingly defined by anonymity, this festival restores something precious—the feeling of being known without being watched, remembered without being recorded.

When Strings Cross: The Meaning of the Kite Duel

Soon, strings cross. Tension builds. A moment of skill, timing, and alertness decides the outcome. One kite is cut.

The cry of “Kai Po Che!” rings out—not in malice, but in delight. The duel is never personal. It is a playful test of mastery, where both victory and defeat are accepted with surprising grace. It is kap yo che. Meaning I have cut to the winning group celebrating victory, momentarily every one stops what they are doing and witness both the winner and the lost for the lost is quickly rewinding the manja to fix a new kite to fly it yet again. 

Life, too, brings crossings—of paths, ambitions, opinions. Not every encounter ends in harmony. Sometimes, despite effort, one must fall.

The kite festival teaches this gently:

Engage fully, but do not cling to the result.

Effort, Destiny, and Acceptance

The flyer controls the string, but not the wind. Indian wisdom would see here the dance of karma and daiva—effort and destiny. When a kite is cut, laughter replaces resentment. The flyer begins again. The fallen kite becomes a prize chased by children, turning individual loss into shared joy.

Even defeat is absorbed into celebration.

The Fragile Thread of Ego

At a deeper level, the string also symbolizes attachment. When it snaps, what appears as loss becomes release. The kite drifts freely, unbound.

In this fleeting image, the sky enacts an ancient truth:

Sometimes, what is cut away is not joy—but bondage.

A Festival That Teaches Without Words

Kite flying instructs without sermons:

Competition without bitterness

Victory without arrogance

Loss without despair

Community without intrusion

Children learn resilience. Elders rediscover lightness. Communities remember how to celebrate together.

When the Sky Becomes a Witness

When the Indian sky fills with kites, it becomes more than a canvas of color—it becomes a witness. To seasons turning, to lives continuing, to families growing and changing, to the delicate balance between holding on and letting go.

To fly a kite is to say quietly:

We are here. We belong. We remember—and are remembered.

And perhaps that is why, long after the kites have fallen and the strings are wound away, the festival continues to soar in the heart.

mesmerized.

 

Benjamin Franklin was sent to investigate a miracle healer who could cure disease with invisible forces.

What he discovered changed science forever.

Paris, 1784. The city was obsessed with a German physician named Franz Mesmer who claimed he could cure anything—paralysis, blindness, seizures, chronic pain—using an invisible force he called "animal magnetism."

Mesmer's treatments were theatrical spectacles. Patients sat in dimly lit rooms around a wooden tub filled with water, iron filings, and glass bottles. Iron rods protruded from the tub. Patients would grasp the rods while Mesmer, dressed in flowing silk robes, moved among them, waving his hands, staring intensely into their eyes, and speaking in low, commanding tones.

And then something extraordinary happened.

Patients would fall into trance-like states. They'd convulse. They'd cry out. They'd report feeling waves of energy flowing through their bodies. Some would collapse unconscious. Others would claim instant healing from ailments they'd suffered for years.

Women especially seemed susceptible to Mesmer's treatments—which led to whispered scandals about what exactly was happening in those darkened rooms when the doctor placed his hands on female patients and stared deeply into their eyes.

But scandal or not, people kept coming. Because people kept getting better.

Or so they claimed.

Mesmer hadn't always been so theatrical. When he'd first developed his theory of "animal magnetism" in the 1770s, he'd used actual magnets—believing he could manipulate an invisible fluid-like force flowing through all living things, restoring balance and curing disease.

Then he realized he didn't need the magnets at all. He could achieve the same results with just his voice, his hands, his eyes. The "magnetic force" wasn't in the magnets. It was in him.

He became convinced he possessed a special power—that he was a conduit for this universal energy.

The Vienna medical establishment thought he was either a fraud or insane. They ostracized him. So Mesmer moved to Paris in 1778, where he became an overnight sensation.

Parisian high society couldn't get enough. Mesmer's waiting list stretched for months. Other practitioners adopted his methods, calling themselves "magnetizers" and later "mesmerists." Clinics opened across the city.

But the French scientific and medical communities were skeptical. They'd seen plenty of miracle cures come and go. Mesmer's claims sounded like mystical nonsense.

Yet his patients swore by him. Testimony after testimony described impossible healings. Were all these people lying? Delusional? Or was there something real happening?

King Louis XVI decided to settle the matter once and for all.

In 1784, he assembled a royal commission to investigate mesmerism scientifically. The panel included some of the greatest minds in France—and one very famous American.

Benjamin Franklin was 78 years old, serving as American ambassador to France. He was also a scientist, inventor, and one of the Enlightenment's leading voices for rational inquiry over superstition.

Joining him was Antoine Lavoisier—the father of modern chemistry, the man who'd discovered oxygen and revolutionized scientific understanding of combustion and chemical reactions.

Also on the commission: Jean Sylvain Bailly (astronomer), Joseph-Ignace Guillotin (physician who'd later lend his name to the execution device), and several other prominent scientists and doctors.

Their task: determine if animal magnetism was real.

The commission watched Mesmer's treatments. They observed the trances, the convulsions, the dramatic healings. Impressive theater, certainly. But was it medicine?

Then they did something revolutionary.

They designed experiments to test whether the "magnetic force" actually existed—or whether patients were responding to something else entirely.

In what may have been the first blind trial in scientific history, they had subjects tested without knowing whether they were actually being "magnetized" or not.

A mesmerist would stand behind a door, supposedly directing magnetic forces at a subject on the other side. The subject, not knowing if the magnetizer was actually there, would report feeling the effects—even when nobody was behind the door at all.

Trees were "magnetized" and subjects told which ones. They'd feel powerful effects from trees that hadn't been magnetized—and nothing from trees that had.

Patients were blindfolded and told they were being magnetized when they weren't. They'd respond dramatically. Then they'd be actually magnetized without being told—and feel nothing.

The pattern was unmistakable. Patients responded when they believed they were being magnetized—regardless of whether anything was actually being done to them.

The commission published its findings later in 1784.

There was no scientific evidence for "animal magnetism." It didn't exist. The invisible fluid flowing through all things was imaginary.

But something real was happening. Patients were responding—genuinely responding—to their own expectations, imagination, and the power of suggestion.

The commission had just documented what would later be called the placebo effect. They'd proven scientifically that belief alone could produce real physiological responses—that the mind could affect the body in measurable ways, even without any actual medical intervention.

This was revolutionary. Not because it vindicated Mesmer—it didn't. But because it revealed something profound about human psychology and the healing process.

Mesmer was furious. He denounced the commission as biased, corrupt, closed-minded. His followers rallied to his defense, pointing to all the people who'd been healed.

But the damage was done. The craze began to fade.

Mesmer left France and resumed practicing in Switzerland. Eventually, he returned to the German state of Baden, where he died in 1815 at age 80—largely forgotten, his grand theory discredited.

But "mesmerism" didn't completely die.

It lingered throughout the 19th century, experiencing periodic revivals. In the 1840s and 1850s, mesmerist shows were wildly popular in America—traveling performers would put volunteers into trances and have them perform stunts on stage.

Medical researchers, meanwhile, had noticed something useful: those trance states Mesmer induced were real, even if animal magnetism wasn't. Patients in those states really did become unresponsive to pain. Really did become highly suggestible.

By the late 1800s, scientists had refined these techniques into what we now call hypnosis—stripping away Mesmer's mystical theories while keeping the practical therapeutic applications.

Today, hypnotherapy is a legitimate medical tool used for pain management, anxiety treatment, and breaking habits. It's not magic. It's not mysterious cosmic energy. It's the power of focused attention and suggestion—the same power Mesmer stumbled upon while waving his hands in darkened rooms.

And we still use his name. When something captures our complete attention, when we're utterly transfixed and absorbed, we say we're "mesmerized."

Every time you use that word, you're referencing an 18th-century German doctor who convinced himself he could channel invisible cosmic forces—and accidentally helped pioneer the scientific study of the placebo effect and the power of the mind over the body.

The 1784 royal commission didn't just debunk a quack. It established a template for how to investigate extraordinary claims scientifically. It showed how to design experiments that could separate real effects from imagined ones.

Franklin and Lavoisier didn't just prove Mesmer wrong. They demonstrated how science should work—with controlled experiments, blind trials, and reproducible results.

And they revealed something Mesmer never understood: he was creating real effects in his patients. Just not the ones he thought.

The invisible force wasn't flowing from him to them. It was flowing from their minds to their bodies—from belief to experience, from expectation to reality.

Mesmer thought he'd discovered a cosmic energy. What he'd actually discovered was the power of the human mind to heal and harm itself through belief alone.

That turned out to be far more interesting—and far more useful—than animal magnetism ever could have been.

So the next time something leaves you utterly mesmerized, remember: you're experiencing a trace of that same mental power that convinced 18th-century Parisians they were being healed by invisible fluids flowing through magnetic rods.

The power was real. The theory was nonsense. But the word survived.

And so did the lesson: extraordinary claims require extraordinary evidence. Even when the patients swear it works. Even when the healer believes in their own powers.

Especially then.

Benjamin Franklin helped prove that in 1784. And we've been applying that principle ever since.