Blessings to the newly weds.

When the Gods Come to the Wedding — Blessings That Travel from Temple to Wedding Hall

A wedding invitation is usually thought of as an invitation to people.

But in some families, the very first invitations are not sent to relatives or friends.

They are taken to the Lord.

Long before the wedding day, when the invitation cards have been printed, special sets are taken to the temples that are particularly sacred to the family. The invitation is placed before the deity, seeking the Lord's presence and blessings for the couple who are about to begin their life together.

It is almost as though the family is saying:

“Before we invite the world, we invite You.”

And then something wonderfully beautiful happens.

The blessings do not remain behind in the temple.

The invitation goes first to the Lord

The wedding invitation, carrying the names of the bride and groom, is taken to the temples.

It may be a family temple, a kula daivam temple, or one of the great temples to which the family has a deep devotional connection.

The card is presented before the deity.

The Lord has, in a sense, been told:

“This is Your child.

This is the day on which a new life is beginning.

Please be there.”

There is something deeply Indian in this custom.

A wedding is not regarded merely as a social event between two individuals.

It is a sacred transition in life.

And therefore, the Divine is invited into it from the very beginning.

And then the blessings travel

On the day of the wedding, or around the wedding ceremony, the blessings from these temples may arrive at the wedding venue.

A purohit or a special representative of the temple brings the sacred offerings.

Sometimes there are gifts, prasadam, garlands, sacred objects or other articles from the temple.

But the real gift is something that cannot be measured.

The Lord's blessings.

The temple that had received the invitation now sends something back to the wedding.

It is almost as though the deity has accepted the invitation and replied:

“I shall come.

Take My blessings with you.”

A wedding surrounded by temples

Immediately after the wedding ritual thecouple receives the blessings from the various temples after which the elders and family bless them.

Blessings came from some of the most sacred temples associated with our devotional life:

Sri Ranganathar of Srirangam.

Sri Varadaraja Perumal of Kanchipuram.

Tirumala Tirupathy devasthanam

Sri Padmanabhaswamy of Thiruvananthapuram.

Sri Krishna of Guruvayur.

Imagine what that means to a family.

On one wedding day, the blessings of these great centres of Sanatana Dharma seem to converge at one place.

The young couple standing before the sacred fire are no longer surrounded only by parents, grandparents, relatives and friends.

In a spiritual sense, they are surrounded by the presence of the temples to which generations before them had prayed.

The wedding becomes more than a wedding

Perhaps that is why these traditions are so touching.

Modern weddings can become enormous occasions—beautiful clothes, flowers, music, food, photography and hundreds of guests.

All of that has its place.

But beneath all the celebration is an ancient understanding:

Marriage is a sacred responsibility.

Two people are beginning a new grihastha life.

They will have joys and difficulties, successes and disappointments, children perhaps, responsibilities towards parents and society.

And so, before they take those first steps together, the family seeks the protection and blessings of the Divine.

The beautiful symbolism

There is also something deeply symbolic about the invitation travelling from the wedding to the temple and the blessings travelling back from the temple to the wedding.

First, we take our invitation to God.

Then God sends His blessings to us.

It is almost a conversation.

We invite Him.

He accepts.

We begin our new life under His grace.

What a wonderful way to begin a marriage.

Traditions are memories carrying blessings

Many of these customs are quietly disappearing or becoming less familiar to younger generations.

Perhaps we should tell them why they existed.

Not because every ritual must be followed mechanically.

But because behind the ritual there is often a beautiful thought.

An invitation card can become an offering.

A temple visit can become a prayer for a future family.

A prasadam can become a reminder that the couple's life is not entirely theirs to control.

And a temple representative arriving at the wedding with the Lord's blessings can make everyone pause for a moment amidst the bustle and remember:

There is Someone greater than all of us whom we have invited to this marriage.

When the blessings arrive

I think this is the image I would like to leave with the reader.

The wedding hall is full.

The bride and groom are ready.

Relatives are moving about.

The sacred fire is waiting.

And then someone arrives carrying something from a distant temple.

Perhaps from Srirangam.

Perhaps from Kanchi.

Perhaps from Tirumala.

Perhaps from Guruvayur.

Perhaps from Padmanabhaswamy.

It has travelled from a sacred place where the Lord was worshipped that morning.

It is placed before the young couple.

And suddenly, the distance between temple and wedding hall disappears.

The Lord who was invited weeks earlier has, symbolically, arrived at the wedding.

The invitation went to the Lord.

The blessings came back to the couple.

What more beautiful way could there be to begin a marriage?

Before two people begin walking together through life,

they first place their journey at the feet of God.

That is not merely a wedding custom.

It is a way of beginning life with gratitude, humility and grace. 🙏

Chennai walks to Tirumala.

Eleven Umbrellas for the Lord — When Chennai Walks to Tirumala

Every year, as the Brahmotsavam of Lord Venkateswara approaches at Tirumala, something extraordinary begins in Chennai.

Eleven enormous, beautifully decorated ceremonial umbrellas are brought out after a small puja at the historic Sri Chenna Kesava Perumal Temple on Devaraja Mudali Street.

And then they begin their journey.

Not quietly.

Not hidden away in a vehicle.

They travel in procession, accompanied by thousands of devotees, through the streets of Chennai and onward towards Tirupati.

It is called the Thirukkudai Utsavam.

And perhaps the most beautiful way of looking at it is this:

Chennai does not merely send an offering to Tirumala.

For a little while, Chennai itself walks to Tirumala.

Why eleven umbrellas?

These are not ordinary umbrellas meant to provide shade.

They are magnificent ceremonial thirukkudais, specially constructed and decorated as an offering to Lord Venkateswara.

Of the eleven traditionally taken, nine are used for Lord Malayappa Swami during the Garuda Seva at Tirumala, while two are offered to Sri Padmavati Ammavaru at Tiruchanur.

The sight of these giant umbrellas moving through a crowded street is unforgettable.

Their broad circular canopies rise above the sea of people, their colourful borders moving with the breeze, while beneath them devotees carry the sacred offering towards the Lord.

A tradition with a long history

The tradition of taking ceremonial umbrellas to Tirupati is said to go back more than 250 years.

The present organised procession of the Hindu Dharmartha Samiti, however, belongs to a more recent chapter of this long tradition.

What has survived through generations is something very Indian:

An offering is not complete merely because it reaches the temple.

The journey itself becomes an act of worship.

That is why the umbrellas are carried in procession.

People line the streets.

Temples receive the procession.

Devotees gather for darshan.

An object made by human hands slowly acquires another meaning.

It becomes seva.

And then there are the flowers

The story becomes even more beautiful when we remember that Tirumala's Brahmotsavam brings together devotional offerings from different parts of Tamil Nadu.

Chennai's Koyambedu flower market has had a long association with sending flowers and garlands to Tirumala for important occasions.

And from Srivilliputhur come the sacred garlands associated with Sri Andal.

The Andal garlands have a particularly intimate connection with the Lord.

Andal, the great Tamil Vaishnava saint, offered herself completely to Sri Ranganatha. The garland that she traditionally wore before offering it to the Lord has become one of the most beloved symbols of her devotion.

Every year, traditional florist families of Srivilliputhur prepare special garlands that are taken to Tirumala for the Brahmotsavam.

So one begins to see something larger.

Umbrellas from Chennai.

Flowers from Chennai.

Andal's sacred garlands from Srivilliputhur.

Different places.

Different traditions.

One destination.

Tirumala.

When devotion becomes a journey

Perhaps this is one of the things that makes Indian temple traditions so special.

We tend to think of pilgrimage as a person travelling towards a temple.

But sometimes the pilgrimage takes another form.

A garland travels.

An umbrella travels.

A chariot travels.

A procession travels.

And with each of them travel the prayers, memories and devotion of countless people.

The people who made the umbrella may never stand beside the Lord.

The people who carried it may never know everyone who helped along the way.

But their seva reaches Him.

That is the beauty of sampradaya.

One generation receives a tradition, keeps it alive and quietly hands it to the next.

A city carrying its devotion

Look at the photographs of the Thirukkudai Utsavam and one sees something extraordinary.

The umbrellas are enormous.

But the crowd beneath them is even more remarkable.

Shopkeepers, children, elderly people, policemen, volunteers, devotees and passers-by—all become part of the scene.

For a few hours, the ordinary streets of Chennai become a sacred pathway.

Traffic gives way to devotion.

The city pauses.

And eleven umbrellas rise above the crowd like eleven enormous offerings being carried towards the Lord.

What a beautiful thought—that devotion need not always be expressed in words.

Sometimes it is made of cloth, bamboo and wood.

Sometimes it is woven into a garland.

Sometimes it is carried on tired shoulders for miles.

And sometimes, without even realising it, an entire city becomes part of the worship.

From Chennai to Tirumala

Perhaps that is what the Thirukkudai Utsavam really tells us.

The Lord sits on the sacred hills of Tirumala.

But His devotees are everywhere.

One comes with a garland.

Another with flowers.

Another with an umbrella.

Another simply comes with folded hands.

The offering may be different.

The bhakti is one.

And so, every year, when the eleven umbrellas leave Chennai for Tirumala, we could say:

Chennai is not merely sending umbrellas to the Lord.

Chennai is carrying its devotion to Him.

And somewhere along that long road to Tirumala,

an offering becomes a pilgrimage,

a pilgrimage becomes a festival,

and a festival becomes a living tradition.

Eleven umbrellas.

Thousands of devotees.

One Lord.

Govinda! Govinda! 🙏

A God whose form is a philosophy.

SRI GANESHA — THE GOD WHO TAUGHT US HOW TO LIVE

Look closely at Him. Almost every part of His form is a lesson.

SRI GANESHA

The God Who Taught Us How to Live

There are gods whom we approach with awe.

There are gods whom we approach with fear.

And then there is Ganesha.

He seems to smile at us.

A little child sees Him and notices the elephant head, the big ears, the round belly and the tiny mouse sitting at His feet.

An adult sees something else.

And perhaps the longer one looks at Ganesha, the more one begins to understand that His entire form is a teaching.

He does not need a sermon.

He simply sits there—and teaches.

The elephant head — think big

Why an elephant?

The elephant is strong, but it does not rush.

It is powerful, yet generally calm.

It remembers.

It moves through obstacles without allowing every obstacle to become a crisis.

Ganesha's elephant head therefore invites us to enlarge our understanding.

Do not think only of the immediate.

Do not let a small difficulty occupy the whole mind.

Look at the larger picture.

Wisdom begins when we learn to see beyond the moment.

Those enormous ears — listen

Ganesha's ears are impossible to miss.

Perhaps that is precisely the point.

Listen before you speak.

Listen to another person's sorrow.

Listen to advice.

Listen to experience.

Listen even when you disagree.

And perhaps, above all, learn to listen to the quiet voice within.

In a world where everyone wants to speak, Ganesha reminds us of the forgotten power of listening.

The tiny eyes — concentrate

Huge ears.

Tiny eyes.

It is an extraordinary combination.

Take in much.

But when you look, look deeply.

The world constantly competes for our attention. We see thousands of things and understand very few.

Ganesha's eyes seem to say:

Do not merely look.

See.

The trunk — strength with flexibility

The elephant's trunk is immensely strong.

It can uproot a tree.

Yet it can also pick up something as delicate as a flower.

What a lesson!

True strength is not rigidity.

The strongest person is not necessarily the one who never bends.

Strength is the ability to be powerful when power is required—and gentle when gentleness is required.

Be firm without becoming hard.

The broken tusk — sacrifice for something greater

Ganesha has one complete tusk and one broken tusk.

The broken tusk has several traditional stories associated with it, including the famous Mahabharata tradition in which Ganesha writes the epic dictated by Vyasa.

Whatever version one follows, the image carries a beautiful message:

Something precious may have to be sacrificed for something greater.

Knowledge may demand effort.

Duty may demand inconvenience.

A noble purpose may require us to give up something we would rather keep.

The broken tusk is not a symbol of defeat.

It is a symbol of purpose.

The round belly — receive life without being disturbed by it

Ganesha's generous belly has inspired many interpretations.

Perhaps we may read it simply as a reminder to develop the capacity to take life in.

Praise and criticism.

Pleasure and disappointment.

Success and failure.

Not everything that enters our lives needs to disturb our inner balance.

Ganesha seems to say:

Receive.

Digest.

Remain whole.

The modaka — sweetness is earned

In His hand is the beloved modaka.

It is sweet outside and filled with sweetness within.

It has therefore become associated with the sweetness that comes from spiritual effort and inner fulfilment.

There is a simple truth here:

The deepest joys of life are rarely handed to us ready-made.

They are prepared.

They require patience.

They require discipline.

And when the effort is complete, the sweetness is worth it.

The mouse — the mind and its desires

And then comes perhaps the most delightful contrast of all.

A magnificent elephant-headed Lord...

and a tiny mouse.

The mouse is restless.

It moves quickly.

It slips into small spaces.

It represents, in many traditional interpretations, the restless nature of desire and the mind.

Yet Ganesha does not destroy the mouse.

He rides it.

What a profound distinction.

The mind need not always be destroyed.

Desire need not disappear from human life.

What must happen is that we should become its master rather than its servant.

The enormous Lord sits upon the tiny creature.

The little vehicle does not determine where He goes.

He determines where it goes.

Why does Ganesha come first?

Before a journey.

Before a ceremony.

Before a wedding.

Before beginning studies.

Before opening a new account.

Before undertaking something important.

We remember Ganesha.

Why?

Because every beginning needs more than enthusiasm.

It needs clarity.

We ask Him to remove obstacles.

But perhaps the deeper prayer is:

Give me the wisdom to recognise which obstacles must be removed,

the strength to overcome those that can be overcome,

and the understanding to know when an obstacle is actually a direction.

For sometimes the obstacle is outside us.

And sometimes we are the obstacle.

The deeper Ganesha

There is an even more profound Ganesha hidden behind the familiar image.

The Ganapati Atharvashirsha speaks of Ganapati in astonishingly expansive terms. It identifies Him with the ultimate reality, with the Self and with Om.

Thus the Ganesha sitting before us is not merely the charming elephant-headed deity who grants auspicious beginnings.

The little form opens towards something immeasurable.

The familiar leads us towards the infinite.

Perhaps this is one of the great gifts of Hindu thought:

the Infinite is allowed to become intimate.

We can talk to Him.

We can laugh with Him.

We can offer Him a simple modaka.

We can place a flower before Him.

And yet the same Ganesha can lead the mind towards questions about the very nature of existence.

A God whose form is a philosophy

Look at Ganesha once more.

Large ears — listen.

Small eyes — concentrate.

Elephant head — think deeply and broadly.

Trunk — be strong yet adaptable.

Broken tusk — sacrifice for a higher purpose.

Large belly — absorb life's experiences without losing balance.

Modaka — seek the sweetness within.

Mouse — master restless desire.

And the very fact that He is invoked before beginnings:

Begin with wisdom.

Perhaps that is why Ganesha remains so beloved.

He does not merely remove obstacles from our path.

He teaches us how to walk through life.

A little prayer to Ganesha

O Ganesha,

Give me ears that truly listen,

eyes that look beyond appearances,

a mind large enough to understand,

and a heart gentle enough to forgive.

Give me the strength of the elephant

without its burden of pride.

Give me the flexibility of the trunk—

to know when to stand firm

and when to bend.

Teach me through the broken tusk

that nothing offered for a noble purpose is ever truly lost.

Let me taste the sweetness of the modaka

not merely on my tongue

but in the quiet contentment of the heart.

And when the little mouse of desire

runs restlessly through my mind,

let me not become its prisoner.

Let me ride above it.

When I stand before a new beginning,

remove not only the obstacles before me

but also the obstacles within me.

And when I forget the greater truth,

remind me—

that behind every form

is the Formless,

behind every name

is the Nameless,

and behind every beginning

is the One

who was there before all beginnings.

Sri Ganesha,

teach me not merely to succeed in life,

but to understand how to live it.

Om Gam Ganapataye Namah.

BRICS FOR YOU.

BRICS SUMMIT 2026 — A SYNOPSIS

The 18th BRICS Summit was held in New Delhi on 12–13 September 2026, with India holding the BRICS chairship. India chose the theme “Building for Resilience, Innovation, Cooperation and Sustainability”, with a broader Humanity First approach. 

BRICS has changed considerably from the original grouping of Brazil, Russia, India and China, joined later by South Africa. With expansion, it now comprises 11 members—Brazil, China, Egypt, Ethiopia, India, Indonesia, Iran, Russia, Saudi Arabia, South Africa and the UAE. Together they account for about 49.5% of the world's population and 40% of global GDP. 

What was the Summit about?

The central idea was no longer simply economic cooperation. BRICS is increasingly becoming a platform through which emerging and developing nations seek a greater voice in global affairs.

Major areas discussed included:

Economic cooperation and trade

Greater use of local currencies and cross-border payment systems

Energy and food security

Artificial intelligence and digital technology

Health and pandemic preparedness

Climate change and disaster resilience

Critical minerals and supply chains

Start-ups, innovation and youth

Reform of global institutions, particularly the UN

Terrorism and international security

Conflicts in West Asia and elsewhere

India also promoted practical initiatives such as cooperation in start-ups, logistics and supply chains, rather than allowing BRICS to remain merely a political talking forum. 

The geopolitical significance

Perhaps the most interesting feature of the 2026 Summit was that countries with very different political interests were sitting at the same table.

India, China and Russia have very different relationships with the Western world. Iran and the UAE themselves have serious regional tensions. Yet the enlarged BRICS managed to produce a New Delhi Declaration, addressing terrorism, conflicts, trade barriers, sanctions, energy, climate and global governance. 

The Summit therefore demonstrated something important:

BRICS need not mean that its members agree on everything. It means that countries with different interests can still find areas in which cooperation is possible.

India's role

For India, the Summit was particularly significant.

India attempted to position BRICS not as an anti-Western alliance, but as a constructive voice of the Global South. Prime Minister Narendra Modi stressed that global problems—war, disrupted supply chains, climate change, technology and health—ultimately affect ordinary people everywhere. 

India's approach was therefore essentially:

Development + dialogue + cooperation + strategic autonomy.

The symbolism was also striking: Xi Jinping and Vladimir Putin were in New Delhi, giving India an opportunity to engage simultaneously with two major powers while maintaining its relationships with the West and other countries.

One particularly important point

There was no agreement on creating a common BRICS currency. Instead, the emphasis was on making trade and payments easier through local currencies and alternative payment mechanisms. 

That distinction is important because BRICS is evolving gradually rather than attempting to create an overnight alternative to the existing international financial system.

The larger picture

BRICS began essentially as an economic grouping. It is now becoming something much broader:

economic cooperation → political consultation → Global South representation → alternative approaches to global governance.

Yet its greatest strength is also its greatest weakness. Its members are enormously diverse and sometimes have conflicting interests. Whether BRICS can convert its growing size into lasting, practical cooperation will determine its real importance.

And perhaps the most interesting conclusion from the New Delhi Summit is this:

The world is not necessarily moving from one dominant bloc to another. It may be moving towards a more multipolar world in which several centres of influence have to learn to coexist.

From various news articles. 

Ek anek.

One Goddess, Many Forms — The Unity Within Hindu Diversity

One of the most beautiful features of Hindu worship is that unity does not require uniformity.

The Goddess may be worshipped as Meenakshi in Madurai, Kamakshi in Kanchipuram, Lalita Tripurasundari in another tradition, Durga in another, Parvati in yet another. Each has her own temple, mythology, iconography, rituals and centuries-old tradition.

And yet the devotee does not necessarily experience these as competing Gods.

There is room for the extraordinary idea that the One can be approached through many forms.

A devotee standing before Meenakshi does not have to deny Kamakshi.

One who worships Durga does not have to reject Parvati.

Different names do not diminish the Divine; they give the human mind different doors through which to approach it.

That is why the photograph is so intriguing.

The two mūrtis are not literally the same physical image. They belong to two different sacred centres. Yet when we place their photographs side by side, something in us instinctively recognises a common presence.

Perhaps that is the real beauty of Hindu worship.

The forms are many.

The names are many.

The temples are many.

The traditions are many.

But the Divine need not be divided merely because our ways of approaching it are different.

Hinduism has never needed every devotee to stand before the same image, chant the same prayer or enter the same temple in order to discover the sacred.

It seems to say something wonderfully simple:

Choose the form through which your heart can reach the Divine.

The Divine is not confined by the form.

And perhaps this is why India can have thousands of temples, innumerable deities and countless local traditions—and still speak of the One Reality appearing in many forms.

Many mūrtis.

Many names.

Many paths.

One Divine presence.

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.