This hyd visit.

 Sometimes life interrupts us in ways we do not expect. Plans pause, routines dissolve, and the path we believed was firmly laid suddenly bends away from our feet. In those moments it feels as though we are being taken off the rails. Yet, in the language of faith, it may actually be a form of divine preparation.

God readies a soul long before the soul recognizes the call.

There are seasons when we are asked to step aside from what we are doing — not because our work lacked value, but because its season has quietly completed. What appears like delay may be training. What appears like disruption may be direction.

A calling rarely arrives when life is convenient. It arrives when the heart has been quietly prepared through unseen experiences, subtle lessons, and silent strengthening.

To step away is not to lose the path.

It is to trust that the path has widened.

Sometimes the rail must end so the horizon can begin. Sometimes it's to make you feel what you may have missed in your thinking. 

Accepting the direction for whatever it is though difficult is the only way. A silent prayer to say please God don't let my thoughts wander away from your feet.

The asking.

 Bhikṣām Dehi – The Soul’s Gentle Prayer

“Bhikṣām Dehi” — two simple Sanskrit words, soft as a whisper, yet vast as the sky in their meaning.

Literally, they mean “Give me alms.”

But spiritually, they mean “Fill my emptiness.”

In the ancient gurukula tradition, young students would walk from home to home with folded hands, humbly uttering these words. They were not beggars. They were seekers of knowledge. The act of asking for food was a sacred discipline — a quiet training of the heart to dissolve pride and cultivate gratitude. Every morsel received carried the warmth of society’s blessing and the reminder that life is sustained by the kindness of others.

Thus, “Bhikṣām Dehi” became more than a request. It became a practice in humility.

Yet the deepest meaning unfolds when the words turn toward the Divine.

When a devotee says Bhikṣām Dehi, the prayer changes form. The hands are still folded, but the request is no longer for food.

It becomes:

Give me devotion when my heart is dry.

Give me wisdom when my mind is restless.

Give me strength when life feels heavy.

Give me grace when my ego grows loud.

The soul stands before the Lord empty, acknowledging its incompleteness. And in that sacred emptiness lies the possibility of divine fullness.

The story of young Adi Shankaracharya beautifully illuminates this spirit. When he asked a poor woman for alms, she offered the only thing she possessed — a single gooseberry. Her gift was tiny, yet it was everything she had. Moved by her selfless generosity, Shankara prayed to Goddess Lakshmi, who showered her home with golden fruits. The lesson shines clearly: when giving is pure, the Divine responds with abundance.

In truth, every human heart whispers “Bhikṣām Dehi” in some form. We seek love, peace, meaning, belonging. We hunger for something beyond material nourishment — something that satisfies the silent spaces within.

To say Bhikṣām Dehi is to admit:

“I do not have everything. I need Your grace.”

And perhaps that is the most beautiful prayer of all.

For the Divine does not fill hands that are clenched with pride —

but those that open in humble surrender. 

Asking forgiveness.

 Pavitra Utsavam (or Pavitrotsavam) is a beautiful and deeply symbolic temple festival observed in many Hindu temples—especially Vaishnava temples like Tirupati, Srirangam, Kanchipuram, Melkote, etc.

It is often called the “Festival of Purification” of the temple.

Pavitra = sacred thread / purifier

Utsavam = festival

So Pavitra Utsavam literally means the festival of sacred purification threads.

It is performed as a spiritual “annual audit” of the temple rituals.

Why is Pavitra Utsavam performed?

In temples, daily rituals (nitya kainkaryam) are done every single day of the year:

Abhishekam

Alankaram

Archana

Naivedyam

Deepa aradhana

Festivals and processions

According to Agama Shastras, even with the greatest care:

A mantra may be mispronounced

A ritual step may be missed

A rule of purity may be unknowingly broken

A procedure may not be perfectly followed

Since the deity is treated as a living divine king, no mistake should accumulate over the year.

Therefore, once a year temples perform Pavitra Utsavam to:

Atone for ritual omissions (dosha nivarana)

Re-sanctify the temple

Renew divine grace

Seek forgiveness from the Lord

It is like saying:

“O Lord, forgive whatever mistakes occurred in serving You.”

This humility is the heart of the festival 

Agama texts describe this as:

Sarva dosha parihara utsavam

(festival that removes all ritual defects)

It is considered essential for:

Temple spiritual health

Priestly discipline

Continuity of divine presence

Some temples even say:

Without Pavitra Utsavam, a year of worship is incomplete.

When is it performed?

Usually conducted once a year, often in:

Shravan month

Bhadrapada month

(depending on temple tradition)

It lasts 3 days in most temples.

How Pavitra Utsavam is conducted

The rituals are extremely systematic and beautiful.

Day 1 — Ankurarpanam & Sankalpam

(Invocation and preparation)

1. Ankurarpanam (Sowing seeds)

Seeds are ceremonially sown in pots.

Meaning:

Symbol of renewal

Fresh spiritual beginning

Growth of divine grace

It signifies:

“Let new purity sprout in the temple.”

2. Vishwaksena Puja

Lord Vishwaksena (commander of Vishnu’s army) is worshipped.

Why? Because he removes obstacles in temple rituals.

He is like the divine administrator of temple worship.

3. Raksha Bandhan (Protection ritual)

Sacred threads are tied to:

Temple pillars

Kalashas

Priests

This marks the start of the purification process.

Day 2 — Homams & Pavitra Preparation

(Main purification rituals)

Special fire rituals (Homams)

Several yajnas are performed:

Sudarshana homa

Vishnu homa

Purusha sukta homa

Sri Sukta homa

Fire represents:

Burning impurities

Transforming mistakes into merit

Priests chant:

Vedas

Divya Prabandham

Agama mantras

The atmosphere becomes intensely sacred.

Preparation of Pavitra Malas (Sacred garlands)

This is the most beautiful part.

Special garlands made of:

Cotton threads

Silk threads

Sometimes coloured threads

They are twisted into ring-shaped garlands called:

Pavitra malas

These represent:

Purity

Protection

Sacred correction of errors

Day 3 — The Grand Pavitra Samarpanam

(Offering the sacred threads to the Lord)

This is the highlight of the festival.

The Lord is decorated with pavitra garlands in layers.

Where are they placed?

On:

Crown

Neck

Arms

Chest

Weapons (chakra, shankha)

Consort deity

Utsava murti

Temple Vimana (tower)

Dwajasthambam (flag post)

Bali peetam

Temple doors and pillars

Even the temple itself is “decorated” with pavitras.

Meaning:

Not only the deity, the entire temple is purified.

Symbolism of Pavitra Garlands

The threads represent:

Mantras woven into form

Spiritual protection shield

Correction of ritual defects

It is believed that:

All mistakes of the past year get “absorbed” into these sacred threads.

Final Ceremony — Purnahuti & Kshama Prarthana

At the end:

Purnahuti (Final offering)

Final sacred offering into the fire.

Then priests perform: Kshama Prarthana — Prayer of forgiveness.

A deeply moving prayer:

“Whatever was done improperly,

Whatever was forgotten,

Whatever was done without devotion,

Please forgive us, O Lord.”

This humility is the soul of Pavitra Utsavam.

Spiritual significance for devotees

Devotees believe attending Pavitra Utsavam gives:

Removal of sins

Removal of obstacles

Blessings for family welfare

Renewal of spiritual life

It is said:

Witnessing Pavitra Utsavam equals attending many yajnas.

A beautiful way to understand it

If Brahmotsavam is the celebration of the Lord,

then Pavitra Utsavam is the apology offered to the Lord.

One celebrates His glory.

The other expresses loving humility.

Both together make temple worship complete.

Stone dipiction of Ramayana.

Hazara Rama Temple of Hampi

The Royal Ramayana in Stone

Hidden quietly inside the Royal Enclosure of Hampi stands a temple that whispers rather than announces its greatness — the Hazara Rama Temple. Unlike the towering gopurams of Virupaksha or the musical majesty of Vittala, this temple is intimate, royal, and contemplative. It was the private temple of the Vijayanagara kings, where emperors bowed their crowned heads before Sri Rama, the ideal king of dharma.

Yet the temple carries a mystery carved into its very walls.

If it was a private royal temple…

how do we see the kings themselves carved in stone around it?

The King Who Worshipped the Ideal King

The Vijayanagara empire did not merely rule land; it tried to embody Rama Rajya — the rule of righteousness. For the kings of this empire, Sri Rama was not only God. He was their model of kingship.

Before ruling the world, they came here to bow to Rama.

The Hazara Rama Temple stood at the entrance of the royal palace complex. It was not meant for crowds. It was meant for the king, the queen, and the royal household. This temple was their spiritual anchor before they entered the affairs of empire.

And therefore its walls narrate the Ramayana in hundreds of panels — so many that the temple came to be called Hazara Rama, the “Temple of a Thousand Ramas”.

The story begins with Rama’s birth.

It ends with his coronation.

Exactly the journey every Vijayanagara king hoped to follow.

The Temple That Is a Stone Ramayana

Walking around the temple is like reading a sacred comic carved in granite.

You see:

Sita’s swayamvara

The exile into the forest

The golden deer

Hanuman’s leap to Lanka

The great war

And finally, Rama Pattabhishekam

The temple is not simply decorated with the Ramayana — it breathes the Ramayana.

But then, as you step further out, something surprising appears.

The Puzzle on the Outer Walls

Outside the Ramayana panels, long horizontal bands run across the temple walls.

They show:

Marching elephants

Cavalry on horses

Soldiers in formation

Dancers and musicians

Royal processions

Suddenly the temple shifts from epic to history.

We are no longer in Ayodhya.

We are in Vijayanagara.

And this leads to the beautiful question:

If the temple was private, why are royal processions carved here?

The Answer: A Message to the Future

These carvings were never meant to show daily temple visits of the king.

They were meant to declare an idea.

The Vijayanagara empire was making a statement in stone:

“Our kingdom is Rama’s kingdom.”

The outer walls depict the grand Mahanavami (Dasara) festival celebrated in the royal court — the most important imperial celebration of the year.

During this festival:

The king appeared before the people

Military strength was displayed

Arts and culture flourished

Dharma was publicly affirmed

And this festival was dedicated to the triumph of dharma — the same triumph celebrated in the Ramayana.

So the temple walls tell two parallel stories:

Inner Walls

Outer Walls

Story of Rama

Story of the Empire

Divine Kingship

Earthly Kingship

Rama Rajya

Vijayanagara Rajya

The message becomes clear:

The Vijayanagara king ruled as a servant of Rama.

Why Carve This in Stone?

Because stone speaks to centuries.

These carvings were not for the royal family.

They were for posterity — for us.

They declare:

“This empire lived under the ideals of Rama.”

Even today, centuries after the empire has vanished, the message survives.

Kings fade.

Empires fall.

But dharma carved in stone endures.

The Silent Sanctum

Today the sanctum is empty.

Once, Rama, Sita and Lakshmana stood here.

Now only the pedestal remains, marked by three holes where the idols were fixed.

Yet the temple does not feel empty.

Because every wall still chants the Ramayana.

And perhaps this is the temple’s deepest teaching:

When Rama lives in the heart of a kingdom, the kingdom becomes immortal — even if its palaces turn to ruins.

Among all temples of Hampi:

Vittala sings,

Virupaksha lives,

But Hazara Rama remembers.

It remembers a time when kings prayed before ruling,

when power bowed to dharma,

and when the story of Rama was the foundation of a civilization.

A temple where emperors came as devotees.

A temple where history and Ramayana meet in stone.

Where kings once bowed before the Lord,

Now silent stones still sing His name;

Empires fade like evening clouds,

But Rama’s dharma stays the same.

In ruined halls the echoes stay,

Of conch and crown and sacred flame;

For every heart that walks these walls

Still leaves remembering Rama’s name.

Namada hara.

 The Loving Names of Krishna and Rama

How Devotees Call Their Lord

In the world of Bhakti, God is rarely addressed by formal titles.

He is called the way the heart calls — with affection, intimacy, mischief, longing and love.

A devotee does not always say “Supreme Lord”.

Instead, the lips whisper:

Kanha… Gopal… Bansiwale… Ram Lalla… Raghunandan…

These names are not theology — they are relationships.

Let us wander through the sweet names by which devotees lovingly call Sri Krishna and Sri Rama.

Krishna — The Lord of Sweetness (Madhurya)

Krishna attracts names the way a flute attracts music.

Each name comes from a leela, a place, or a moment of love.

The Flute Player of Vrindavan

When the flute sounded in Vraja, hearts forgot the world.

So devotees call him:

Bansiwale – the one who plays the flute

Bansidhar / Murlidhar – the holder of the flute

Murali Manohar – the flute player who enchants the mind

Venugopal – the cowherd with the flute

These names belong to the Krishna who steals not butter — but hearts.

The Cowherd of Vraja

The Supreme Lord chose the simplest life — a cowherd boy.

So devotees lovingly call him:

Gaiya Charane Wale / Gaiya Charava – the one who grazes cows

Gopal – protector of cows

Govinda – giver of joy to cows and senses

Vrajendra Nandan – son of the king of Vraja

These names carry the fragrance of dust from Vrindavan.

The Child of Yashoda

No philosophy survives when Krishna smiles as a child.

Nandlal – beloved son of Nanda

Nandkishore – young prince of Nanda

Yashodanandan – son of Mother Yashoda

Kanha / Kanhaiya – affectionate child name

Makhan Chor – butter thief

Navneet Chora – stealer of fresh butter

Laddu Gopal / Bal Gopal – baby Krishna

Here God becomes someone you can scold, chase, and feed.

The Beloved of Radha

If Krishna is sweetness, Radha is its fragrance.

Together they form the heart of Bhakti.

Radha Raman – beloved of Radha

Radha Vallabh – lover of Radha

Radha Madhav – consort of Radha

Radha Shyam – Radha’s Shyam

Banke Bihari – the charming bent-posture Lord of Vrindavan

These names are not spoken — they are sighed.

The Protector and Hero

The same playful boy becomes the protector of the world.

Giridhari / Girdhari – lifter of Govardhan

Keshava – slayer of demon Keshi

Madhusudan – destroyer of Madhu

Parthasarathi – charioteer of Arjuna

Jagannath – Lord of the universe

Dwarkadhish – King of Dwarka

The cowherd becomes the cosmic guide.

Rama — The Lord of Compassion and Dharma

If Krishna melts the heart, Rama steadies it.

Krishna enchants; Rama reassures.

His names carry dignity, tenderness and deep trust.

The Beloved Child

Ayodhya loved Rama as Vrindavan loved Krishna.

Ram Lalla – baby Rama

Dasharatha Nandan – son of Dasharatha

Kaushalya Nandan – son of Kaushalya

Raghunandan – joy of the Raghu dynasty

Raghukul Tilak – ornament of the Raghu lineage

These names feel like a mother calling her child home.

The Ideal Prince and King

Rama is Dharma walking on earth.

Raghunath – Lord of the Raghu dynasty

Raghav – descendant of Raghu

Ayodhya Pati – Lord of Ayodhya

Ramchandra – Rama, radiant like the moon

Maryada Purushottam – the perfect man of righteousness

These names carry reverence and trust.

The Beloved of Sita

Just as Krishna is inseparable from Radha, Rama is inseparable from Sita.

Siyaram / Sitaram – Rama with Sita

Janaki Vallabh – beloved of Sita

Sita Pati – husband of Sita

Devotees rarely say “Rama” alone.

They say Sitaram — because love completes divinity.

The Protector of Devotees

Rama is the refuge of the humble.

Ram Rakshak – protector Rama

Dinabandhu – friend of the helpless

Karuna Sagar – ocean of compassion

Bhakta Vatsal – lover of devotees

Patit Pavan – purifier of the fallen

These names are prayers disguised as words.

The Difference in the Names

Krishna’s names feel like laughter.

Rama’s names feel like shelter.

Krishna’s names dance.

Rama’s names console.

Krishna is the Lord you play with.

Rama is the Lord you lean on.

Yet both are the same divine love responding to two different needs of the human heart.

The Secret of Loving Names

In Bhakti, repeating God’s loving names is itself worship.

A devotee may forget rituals.

A devotee may forget scriptures.

But the tongue remembers:

“Radhe Shyam…”

“Sita Ram…”

And that is enough.

Because in the end, God listens not to pronunciation —

but to affection.

A Garland of Names

When the heart forgets the path,

the tongue remembers a name.

In the morning it whispers —

Sita Ram… Sita Ram…

and the day learns gentleness.

By noon it hums softly —

Govinda… Gopala…

and the world becomes lighter.

In the quiet of evening,

when the sky turns Vrindavan-blue,

the breath itself begins to sing —

Radhe Shyam… Radhe Shyam…

O Lord of flute and forest,

O King of Ayodhya’s grace,

You arrive not when called with grandeur,

but when called with love.

A child cries Kanha!

A mother sighs Raghunandan…

A devotee pleads Bhakta Vatsal…

And heaven listens to every voice.

For you are not bound by temples,

nor by the precision of prayer —

You travel only one road:

The path from the lips

to the heart.

So let my last breath carry

a simple, trembling flame of sound —

Sita Ram… Radhe Shyam…

And let that be my way home. 

Kichadi

 Khichadi is even more deeply rooted in Krishna bhakti traditions than kadhi. It has a beautiful and very well-known devotional story (Karmabai’s Khichdi) and is offered daily in many temples. 

The Khichadi Beloved of Thakurji

The Sacred Simplicity of Krishna’s Favourite Offering

Among the countless delicacies offered to the Lord, there exists one humble dish that quietly sits at the heart of devotion — khichadi.

Rice and lentils.

Salt and ghee.

Nothing royal. Nothing elaborate.

Yet this simple preparation is offered daily to Krishna in countless homes and temples. Why would the Lord of Dwaraka, the King of Mathura, the beloved of Vrindavan choose such a plain meal?

Because Krishna does not taste food — He tastes love.

Food in Krishna Bhakti: Love Over Luxury

The stories of Krishna’s life repeatedly reveal one truth: the Lord never measures devotion by wealth or grandeur.

He accepted:

Sudama’s dry beaten rice

Vidura’s banana peels

The gopis’ butter

Dhanna Bhagat’s simple rotis

Each offering carried the same ingredient — pure affection.

Among these sacred offerings shines the story of Karmabai’s Khichdi, one of the most beloved legends of bhakti.

The Story of Karmabai and Her Khichdi

In Rajasthan lived a young girl named Karmabai, a simple and innocent devotee of Krishna. Her devotion was childlike and natural — free from rules, rituals, or fear.

Every morning, before eating her own meal, she would cook khichdi and offer it to her beloved Krishna.

She did not know elaborate mantras.

She did not know temple rituals.

She did not wait for sunrise, bath, or formal worship.

She simply cooked, placed the bowl before Krishna, and lovingly said:

“Come, eat before it becomes cold.”

And Krishna came.

Every day.

He accepted her khichdi as lovingly as He once stole butter from Yashoda’s kitchen.

When Ritual Tried to Replace Love

One day a learned priest visited the village and saw Karmabai offering food before bathing or performing rituals.

He told her,

“You must first bathe, perform puja, chant mantras, and then offer bhog. Only then will Krishna accept it.”

Karmabai felt ashamed. She decided to follow the instructions.

The next morning she woke early, went to bathe, performed rituals, and only then cooked the khichdi.

But when she offered it…

Krishna did not come.

Her heart broke.

Tears filled her eyes as she cried:

“Kanha, today your food became late because of me.

You must be hungry… please come and eat.”

That night the priest had a dream.

Krishna appeared and said:

“Why did you stop My breakfast?

I was eating happily every morning.

Today I remained hungry because of your rules.”

The priest understood.

Ritual had stood between love and the Lord.

Why Khichdi Became Krishna’s Daily Bhog

From that day onward, khichdi became a symbol of innocent devotion.

Even today:

Khichdi is offered daily in many Krishna temples.

It is prepared in Vaishnava homes as simple bhog.

It represents the food of Vrindavan — nourishing, pure, and humble.

Khichdi is not a feast.

It is motherly care in a bowl.

Warm. Soft. Gentle.

Perfect for the child Krishna.

The Spiritual Symbolism of Khichdi

Khichdi is not just food; it is philosophy.

Rice and lentils cook together until they lose their separate identities.

They become one nourishing dish.

In the same way:

Ego dissolves in devotion

Individuality melts into surrender

The soul blends into divine love

Khichdi teaches unity, humility, and surrender.

The Kitchen as Vrindavan

When khichdi is cooked with remembrance:

The stove becomes a yajna fire

The ladle becomes an offering spoon

The kitchen becomes Vrindavan

And the Lord arrives silently to accept the love hidden in the steam rising from the pot.

The Eternal Message

Krishna does not wait for royal feasts.

He waits for:

A simple kitchen

A loving heart

A warm bowl of khichdi

Because the Lord is Bhava-grahi —

He accepts the feeling, not the form.

Pongal is equaling or better version of kichadi.

Kadi an accompaniment to kichadi.

 

Rama before krishna.

Why Dongreji Maharaj Spoke on Rama Before Krishna. A saints gentle wisdom.

There is a beautiful and deeply meaningful incident from the life of the revered saint Sri Dongreji Maharaj.

When he was invited to Bombay to deliver his first Bhagavat Sapthah, the organisers left no stone unturned. In those days publicity meant devotion and labour — handwritten banners were lovingly prepared and placed across the city announcing a seven-day discourse on the Bhagavatam by the great saint.

The city was ready. The devotees were waiting. Everything was perfectly arranged.

Sri Dongreji Maharaj arrived a day early. After offering prayers at the temple, he quietly called the organisers and said something completely unexpected:

He would not speak on the Bhagavatam.

Instead, he wished to speak on Sri Rama.

The organisers were stunned and worried. The entire event had been announced as a Bhagavat discourse. How would the audience react? With folded hands they pleaded with Maharaj to keep the programme as planned and suggested that a separate time could later be arranged for Sri Rama Katha.

Dongreji Maharaj listened patiently and then explained with compassion and clarity.

He said that before people listen to the divine play of Sri Krishna, they must first understand what it means to be a true human being.

They must first learn Purushartha.

They must first learn Maryada.

They must first understand Dharma in human life.

And for that, the world must first listen to Sri Rama.

He gently explained that without the grounding of Rama’s life — the life of Maryada Purushottama — people may misunderstand Krishna’s divine leelas. Without the foundation of dharma, Krishna’s playful acts might appear confusing to the unprepared mind.

How would they understand:

the butter stealing,

the mischievous pranks,

the divine play with the gopis,

the profound meaning behind Draupadi’s cheer haran and Krishna’s intervention?

Without first learning what righteousness, restraint, duty, compassion, and ideal conduct look like in human life, the deeper spiritual truths of Krishna’s leelas could easily be misinterpreted.

Sri Rama teaches us how to be human.

Sri Krishna teaches us how the Divine works through life.

First comes Maryada.

Then comes Madhurya.

First the discipline of dharma.

Then the sweetness of divine love.

Only when the soil is prepared can the seed of Krishna bhakti truly take root.

Hearing this, the organisers understood. The banners could announce Bhagavatam — but the saint would prepare hearts first. And so, before the Bhagavat Sapthah began, Bombay listened to the story of Sri Rama.

And in that decision lies a timeless lesson:

Before we seek to understand God, we must learn how to become worthy seekers.

This incident quietly teaches us the natural order of spiritual growth.

Rama prepares the heart. Krishna enchants it.

Rama shows us how to walk the path.

Krishna shows us the joy of reaching the destination.

Rama teaches duty, restraint, sacrifice and righteousness.

Krishna reveals love, surrender, playfulness and divine intimacy.

When life is aligned with dharma, Krishna’s leelas no longer confuse the mind — they illuminate the soul.

Perhaps that is why the sages say: Rama builds the foundation, Krishna raises the temple.

A Verse to Conclude

A beautiful traditional verse expresses this relationship:

रामो विग्रहवान् धर्मः कृष्णस्तु भगवान् स्वयम्।

धर्मेण हीनाः पशुभिः समानाः॥

Rāmo vigrahavān dharmaḥ, Kṛṣṇas tu Bhagavān svayam

Dharmeṇa hīnāḥ paśubhiḥ samānāḥ.

Meaning:

Rama is Dharma embodied. Krishna is God Himself.

Without dharma, human beings live no better than animals.

And so, before tasting the sweetness of Krishna’s flute,

the world must first learn the steady rhythm of Rama’s footsteps.