Clover leaf flyover chennai.

 Take this stretch on way back from office. It's an amazing butterfly bridge. Take two loops. 

Indias largest clover leaf bridge. 

We approach take the rare left loop go on to rare right loop and return towards home cross three more bridges from Anna University to kathipara and another at adyar bakery to forrtis malar hospital then immediately take the third bridge over adyar river. 

More than

 I learnt this from my grandson the youngest fellow in our family. Amazing told me three facts of which this was interesting.

on average, women tend to have more taste buds than men, particularly more of the taste-bud-containing structures called fungiform papillae on the tongue.

But there are important qualifications:

Women are somewhat more likely to be “supertasters”—people who perceive certain tastes, especially bitterness, much more intensely.

This is partly influenced by genetics, particularly variations in taste-receptor genes.

The difference isn't absolute. Some men have very high taste sensitivity and some women have relatively low sensitivity.

Taste is also strongly affected by smell, so what we call “taste” is actually a combination of taste and olfaction.

Taste sensitivity can change with age, illness, medications and other factors.

So the popular statement “girls have more taste buds than boys” has some scientific basis, but it is an average difference rather than a rule.

And there is a fascinating consequence: supertaster children may find vegetables such as broccoli, bitter gourd or certain greens much more bitter than other people do.

Quack fact.

 Not quite “quack” like a duck! 

But queen bees do make a distinctive sound. It is called “tooting.” A queen bee can produce a high-pitched toot-toot sound, especially when there are other queens in the hive.

There is an even more fascinating part:

Virgin queen: produces a clear “tooting” sound.

Queens still inside their sealed cells: can respond with a muffled “quacking” or “quacking/ piping” sound, often described as quacking.

The sounds help queens communicate with and compete against one another.

So your question is actually surprisingly close to the truth: queen bees can “quack”! 

Thanks to little fellow today I learnt three new facts. The worst part is he gave me three facts not even half an hour ago. I am growing old quickly now and have forgotten what the third was. 

Homa.

Sudarśana Homa → auspicious purification/protection → wedding/upakarma-type ceremony

In many Sri Vaishnava families, a family undertaking a Sudarśana Homa before an important samskāra is understood not merely as "doing a homam," but as creating an auspicious ritual setting and seeking the Lord's protection before the major event.

The ratha procession adds another fascinating dimension. The temple chariot is itself a moving sacred structure: the deity who normally resides within the temple comes outward among the people. So we have:

the kuṇḍa — sacred space constructed according to measure

the ratha — sacred space set into motion

the temple — sacred space permanently established

No of bricks is specific for the conduction of the Homa. Their arrangements and other details are religiously followed to the T.

 

Dyna.

 LORD RĀMA'S DYNASTY

A lineage that stretches across the ages

Lord Rāma belonged to the Sūryavaṁśa, the Solar Dynasty, traditionally traced back to Vivasvān, the Sun-god.

The Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, Ninth Canto, preserves a remarkable genealogy of this dynasty. Generation after generation, kings appear, rule, disappear and give way to the next — until, many generations later, we reach Daśaratha and Lord Rāmacandra.

What is striking is not merely the number of names.

It is the extraordinary sense of continuity across time.

From Vivasvān to Manu, from Ikṣvāku through generations of kings, through Sagara, Bhagīratha, Raghu and Daśaratha, the lineage eventually reaches Rāma.

And even after Rāma, it does not end.

His son Kuśa continues the line, followed by generations of kings extending far beyond the Ramayana age.

Among these names is Maru, the 81st king in this list. Tradition says that Maru attained perfection through yoga and remains at Kalāpa, awaiting the end of Kali-yuga, when he will restore the Solar Dynasty.

Thus the genealogy becomes more than a record of kings.

It becomes a meditation on time itself.

Kings come and go. Kingdoms rise and fall. Yet a lineage continues, carrying memory from one generation to another.

And at one point in that long stream of names appears the name that has remained alive for thousands of years:

Śrī Rāmacandra.

SPIRITUALITY IN SHORT – 2

LORD RĀMA'S DYNASTY

1. Vivasvān, the sun-god

2. Śrāddhadeva, the current Manu

3. Ikṣvāku

4. Vikukṣi

5. Kakutstha

6. Anenā

7. Pṛthu

8. Viśvagandhi

9. Candra

10. Yuvanāśva

11. Śrāvasta

12. Bṛhadaśva

13. Kuvalayāśva

14. Dṛḍhāśva

15. Haryaśva

16. Nikumbha

17. Bahulāśva

18. Kṛśāśva

19. Senajit

20. Yuvanāśva

21. Māndhātā

22. Purukutsa

23. Trasaddasyu

24. Anaraṇya

25. Haryaśva

26. Prāruṇa

27. Tribandhana

28. Triśaṅku

29. Hariścandra

30. Rohita

31. Harita

32. Campa

33. Sudeva

34. Vijaya

35. Bharuka

36. Vṛka

37. Bāhuka

38. Sagara

39. Asamañjasa

40. Aṁśumān

41. Dilīpa

42. Bhagīratha

43. Śruta

44. Nābha

45. Sindhudvīpa

46. Ayutāyu

47. Ṛtūparṇa

48. Sarvakāma

49. Sudāsa

50. Saudāsa

51. Aśmaka

52. Bālika

53. Daśaratha

54. Aiḍaviḍi

55. Viśvasaha

56. Khaṭvāṅga

57. Dīrghabāhu

58. Raghu

59. Aja

60. Daśaratha

61. Lord Rāmacandra

62. Kuśa

63. Atithi

64. Niṣadha

65. Nabha

66. Puṇḍarīka

67. Kṣemadhanvā

68. Devānīka

69. Anīha

70. Pāriyātra

71. Balasthala

72. Vajranābha

73. Sagaṇa

74. Vidhṛti

75. Hiraṇyanābha

76. Puṣpa

77. Dhruvasandhi

78. Sudarśana

79. Agnivarṇa

80. Śīghra

81. Maru

82. Prasuśruta

83. Sandhi

84. Amarṣaṇa

85. Mahasvān

86. Viśvabāhu

87. Prasenajit

88. Takṣaka

89. Bṛhadbala

90. Bṛhadraṇa

91. Ūrukriya

92. Vatsavṛddha

93. Prativyoma

94. Bhānu

95. Divāka

96. Sahadeva

97. Bṛhadaśva

98. Bhānumān

99. Pratīkāśva

100. Supratīka

101. Marudeva

102. Sunakṣatra

103. Puṣkara

104. Antarikṣa

105. Sutapā

106. Amitrajit

107. Bṛhadrāja

108. Barhi

109. Kṛtañjaya

110. Raṇañjaya

111. Sañjaya

112. Śākya

113. Śuddhoda

114. Lāṅgala

115. Prasenajit

116. Kṣudraka

117. Raṇaka

118. Suratha

119. Sumitra

Note 1: The 81st king, Maru, attained full perfection in the practice of yoga, and he still lives in the village of Kalāpa. At the end of this Age of Kali, he will revive the dynasty of the sun-god.

Note 2: In many instances, there are multiple sons for each king, which are not mentioned here.

Note 3: To know the glories of these great kings of Lord Rāma's dynasty, please read Śrīmad-Bhāgavatam, 9th canto.

A dynasty is not merely a list of ancestors. It is a river of time.

One generation enters.

One generation leaves.

The river continues.

And somewhere along that vast river came Rāma.

Yet Rāma's greatness is not that he was merely another king in the lineage.

He became the name by which the lineage itself is remembered.

Vedic altra the how

 How a Vedic Altar Led to One of the World’s Great Geometric Discoveries

Long before mathematics entered the classroom, it was already being practised on the ground.

A few wooden pegs.

A length of rope.

A carefully measured space.

And a sacred purpose.

In ancient India, the construction of a Vedic fire altar was not something that could simply be improvised. Its shape, dimensions and orientation were prescribed. The altar had to be constructed accurately because the geometry itself was part of the ritual.

And so, surprisingly, religious ritual became one of the settings in which sophisticated geometry developed.

The manuals that preserved these methods came to be known as the Śulba Sūtras. The Sanskrit word śulba is associated with the measuring cord or rope used in these constructions. The texts give practical instructions for drawing lines, constructing squares and rectangles, transforming one geometric figure into another, and establishing precise right angles. 

Among these texts is the Baudhāyana Śulba Sūtra, generally dated by modern scholars to around 800 BCE, although the dating of the Śulba literature is not certain. 

And there, hidden inside instructions for altar construction, is a remarkable geometric relationship.

The rope across the rectangle

Baudhāyana states, in essence:

The square on the diagonal of a rectangle is equal in area to the squares on its length and breadth.

Today we write it simply:

a² + b² = c²

It is the relationship that schoolchildren throughout the world know as the Pythagorean theorem.

The astonishing part is not merely the formula. It is where we find it.

It was not presented as an abstract mathematical theorem in a geometry textbook.

It appears as a practical rule for construction.

The ancient builder had a rope. The rope could be stretched between two points. If the dimensions were chosen correctly, it could establish a perfect right angle. The Śulba tradition even gives examples corresponding to what we now call Pythagorean triples, such as 3-4-5 and 5-12-13. 

Imagine the scene.

A bare stretch of earth.

Four points marked out.

A cord pulled taut.

A line drawn from one corner to another.

What looks like a simple act of measurement is actually an encounter with geometry.

The altar was the problem. Mathematics was the answer.

This is perhaps the most beautiful part of the story.

The ancient Indian mathematician did not necessarily begin by asking:

“What mathematical theorem can I discover?”

The question was much more practical:

“How do I construct this sacred shape accurately?”

Once the problem was posed, measurement led to geometry. Geometry led to relationships between lengths and areas. And those relationships could be expressed as rules.

The sacred requirement had unintentionally created a mathematical laboratory.

The Śulba Sūtras contain other remarkable geometric procedures as well, including methods for constructing squares equivalent in area to rectangles and for working with diagonals. Baudhāyana also gives an approximation for √2 that is remarkably accurate for its time. 

But was it really “Pythagoras's theorem”?

Here we need to be careful.

The relationship was known before Pythagoras, and the Baudhāyana Śulba Sūtra contains an explicit statement equivalent to the theorem. Pythagoras himself lived centuries later, around the sixth century BCE. 

But it would be misleading to say that Baudhāyana invented the theorem and that Pythagoras merely copied him.

The same mathematical relationship was known in other ancient cultures too; Babylonian mathematics contains evidence of knowledge of Pythagorean triples centuries earlier. We have no evidence establishing that Pythagoras learned the rule from India.

So the more historically accurate statement is also more interesting:

Ancient Indian Śulba texts preserve one of the earliest known explicit geometric statements equivalent to the Pythagorean theorem.

From sacred space to universal mathematics

There is something deeply Indian about the setting in which this knowledge survived.

The purpose was not initially to conquer mathematics.

It was to build correctly.

The purpose was not to separate science from spirituality.

It was to fulfil a sacred order.

Yet the moment human beings began asking how a diagonal relates to two sides, the answer ceased to belong to one altar, one ritual or even one civilisation.

It became universal.

A² + B² = C² works whether the triangle is drawn on a Vedic altar, scratched into Mesopotamian clay, demonstrated in a Greek school, used by an architect, or taught to a child thousands of years later.

Perhaps that is one of the great wonders of mathematics:

A question born from a particular human need can reveal a truth that belongs to everyone.

And so, somewhere in ancient India, a measuring cord stretched across the earth.

It was being used to construct a place of worship.

But along that cord, humanity was also discovering something about the geometry of the world.

**The altar was sacred.

The measurement was practical.

But the truth it revealed was universal.**

Song

 The 11 are:

Hey Kharari — Sadhu Tiwari

Aavagaman — Sadhu Tiwari

Parvati — Sadhu Tiwari

Saasa Haale — Sadhu Tiwari & Guru Goraksh Nath

Bajrang Baanka — Sadhu Tiwari

Raam Bhajan Ki Or — Nivedita Padmanabhan & Rishi Pathak

Maine Tere Hi Bharose — Suneel Lodhi

Jai Hanuman — Shreyas Dharmadhikari & Rishi Pathak, with Samarth Ramdas credited

Siyavar Ramchandra Ki Jai — Shantanu Sudame & Dhirendra Mulkalwar

Vaishnav Jan To — Rishi Pathak

Hriday Mein Jinke Sitaram — Vishal Chaturvedi. 

The official album listing gives these 11. 

1. Maine Tere Hi Bharose

This is perhaps the simplest and most beautiful song of the album.

Maine tere hi bharose, Hanuman,

Saagar mein naiya daal dai.

“Hanuman, trusting entirely in you, I have launched my little boat into the ocean.”

The song then asks what the boat, oar and support are made of. The answer is wonderfully symbolic:

Ram Naam ki naav — the boat is made of Rama's Name.

Bhakti ki patwaar — devotion is the oar.

Gyaan — knowledge is the supporting chain/strength.

Hanuman — the one who takes the boat across.

Then comes the beautiful reference to Sita: just as Sita passed through the forest and Rama brought her through her trials, the devotee too trusts that the Divine will carry them across.

The complete traditional wording is available from the published lyrics source. 

The thought:

I don't need to know how I will cross the ocean. I only need to know whom I trust.

2. Jai Hanuman

This is one I particularly want you to notice.

The soundtrack credits Sant Kavi Samarth Ramdas along with the singers. 

The song presents Hanuman through his relationship with Rama and Shiva.

Its central ideas are:

Ram ke tum ho sakha

— You are Rama's companion.

Shiv ke tum ho swaroop

— You are a manifestation/form of Shiva.

Hanuman is therefore not being presented merely as the immensely strong monkey warrior.

He is:

Rama's servant,

Rama's friend,

Shiva's manifestation,

and the protector of devotees.

That is a very traditional Indian way of approaching Hanuman: strength is valuable because it has surrendered itself completely to Rama.

3. Raam Bhajan Ki Or

The title itself means:

“Towards the singing of Rama's name.”

The movement of the song is inward.

Instead of looking for happiness in the outside world, the devotee turns:

towards Rama → towards His name → towards bhajan → towards inner peace.

It is essentially an invitation:

Turn your mind toward Rama.

And this fits beautifully with the film's larger spiritual atmosphere.

4. Siyavar Ramchandra Ki Jai

This one is different.

Siyavar Ramchandra Ki Jai!

means:

“Victory to Ramachandra, the beloved Lord of Sita!”

Siya-var literally carries the sense of Sita's beloved/husband.

So when devotees say:

Siyavar Ramchandra ki Jai!

they aren't simply saying “Jai Shri Ram.”

They are invoking Rama together with Sita.

And in a Hanuman story, that is particularly meaningful.

Hanuman's entire existence revolves around Sita and Rama.

5. Vaishnav Jan To

This is the famous bhajan traditionally attributed to Narsinh Mehta.

Its opening:

Vaishnav jan to tene kahiye

Je peed paraayi jaane re

means:

“A true Vaishnava is one who understands the suffering of another.”

That is followed by qualities such as:

helping another without pride,

remaining humble,

speaking truth,

controlling one's desires,

treating others with respect,

keeping one's mind pure,

and remaining devoted to God.

This is a particularly appropriate song in a film about a saintly life because it defines spirituality through conduct, not merely belief.

6. Hriday Mein Jinke Sitaram

The title itself gives away the heart of the song:

Hriday mein jinke Sitaram

“Those whose hearts contain Sita and Rama.”

The thought is very Hanuman-like.

Hanuman does not merely worship Rama.

Rama has become the very centre of his being.

That is why the familiar image of Hanuman opening his chest to reveal Sita-Rama within his heart has such extraordinary devotional power.

The song therefore points toward a simple question:

Is God someone I worship outside myself—or someone who has entered my heart?

7. Bajrang Baanka

Bajrang comes from Vajra-ang — a body as strong as a thunderbolt.

Baanka conveys the idea of one who is striking, powerful, formidable, distinctive.

So the title presents Hanuman as the mighty Bajrang warrior.

But the important contrast in Hanuman bhakti is:

immense physical power + complete humility.

He can cross the ocean, uproot mountains and defeat demons, yet before Rama he is simply:

Dasoham — I am Your servant.

That contrast is the secret of Hanuman's appeal.

8. Aavagaman

Aavagaman means:

coming and going — the cycle of birth and death.

This is a much more philosophical song than its title might initially suggest.

Indian thought often describes worldly existence as:

Janma → Mrityu → Punah Janma

birth → death → rebirth.

Aavagaman asks us to look beyond this continual movement.

The spiritual destination is not merely to have a better journey through samsara.

It is to discover that which takes us beyond samsara.

And in the devotional framework of the film, that path is connected with Rama-bhakti and surrender.

9. Parvati

This song brings Parvati into the spiritual landscape of Hanuman.

That may initially seem surprising in a Hanuman story.

But there is a deep traditional connection:

Hanuman is widely regarded in several traditions as having a divine relationship with Shiva, often described as an amsha or manifestation of Shiva.

Thus the song brings together the Shiva–Parvati dimension with Hanuman's story.

It reminds us that Hindu devotional traditions are not sealed compartments.

Rama, Shiva, Parvati, Hanuman, Sita — the devotional universe continually touches itself.

10. Saasa Haale

This is one of the more folk-flavoured pieces, credited to Sadhu Tiwari and Guru Goraksh Nath in the album listing. 

The language and musical character are different from the more Sanskritised devotional songs.

That is worth noticing.

The film doesn't restrict spirituality to classical Sanskrit prayers.

It brings in the folk voice—the language in which ordinary people have traditionally expressed devotion.

That is very much part of India's spiritual history:

Sanskrit in the temple,

vernacular poetry in the village,

folk song in the courtyard,

and bhajan on the lips of the ordinary devotee.

11. Hey Kharari

This is another Sadhu Tiwari composition and is one of the more earthy pieces in the soundtrack. 

Kharari is a regional/folk expression, and the song belongs to the same world of Bundeli/Braj-flavoured devotional expression that gives Hanuman Ansh its distinctive atmosphere.

That is important because the film isn't presenting spirituality as something belonging only to scholars.

It is spirituality as lived by people.

What I find most interesting about the whole album

After looking at all 11 together, I think there is a pattern.

The songs move through three layers of devotion:

Hanuman the power

Bajrang Baanka

Hey Kharari

Jai Hanuman

The mighty Hanuman.

Hanuman the devotee

Maine Tere Hi Bharose

Ram Bhajan Ki Or

Hriday Mein Jinke Sitaram

Siyavar Ramchandra Ki Jai

The Hanuman whose entire being is surrendered to Rama.

The deeper spiritual journey

Aavagaman

Vaishnav Jan To

Parvati

Saasa Haale

Here the story becomes larger than Hanuman himself—life, death, compassion, Shiva, devotion, and the search for what carries us across.

And perhaps that is why the soundtrack feels different from an ordinary film album.

It is not simply songs about Hanuman.

It is almost a journey through different ways Indians have approached the Divine—folk song, bhajan, Vaishnava devotion, Shaiva imagery, Rama-nama, surrender and finally the question of crossing the ocean of life.

The official album is only 36 minutes 48 seconds, so it is quite possible to listen to the entire thing as one continuous devotional experience.