The simple flame of a Diya (oil lamp) holds the essence of Hindu philosophy: "Deepa Jyoti Parabrahma"—the light of the lamp is the Supreme Reality. It is why the Deepa is integral to every ritual and why the most loved festival is Deepawali.
As dedicated Hindus, lighting a daily lamp in the puja room is a non-negotiable act. But in today’s world of inflation and mass-produced goods, how do we honor the spiritual mandate of purity while being mindful of practical considerations? My years of practice and experimentation offer some clarity.
The Divine Connection: Why Purity Matters
The most critical factor is the purity of the material. Because the deepa connects us to the divine, the oil must be natural and pure. This immediately disqualifies non-traditional, refined, or heavily processed edible oils like refined sunflower or palm oil. They are neither traditional nor locally sourced natural products for many parts of India, and should not be used in our sacred practice.
Moreover, one must be cautious of modern innovations. Using candles or light bulbs in place of a traditional oil lamp is a fundamental misunderstanding of the ritual. The subtle energies and spiritual benefits of the fire element are completely lost, and as tradition warns, candles may even attract undesirable entities.
Evaluating the Traditional Choices: An Experience-Based Analysis
The Shastras primarily sanction Ghee (clarified butter) and Sesame Oil (Taila is derived from Tila, the Sanskrit word for sesame). But through regional tradition, other oils have become popular.
Here is a look at the trade-offs I’ve personally experienced, considering the crucial factors of Economics, Cleanliness, Life of the Lamp, and Spiritual Efficacy.
1. Pure Sesame Oil (Til Ka Tel) - Edible Grade
My experience points to pure sesame oil as the gold standard, next to Ghee.
Shastra Sammat: It is the primary oil sanctioned in scriptures.
Clean and Efficient: It burns for a good amount of time—longer than coconut oil—and generally keeps the diya clean with minimal soot production.
Spiritual Benefit: It is traditionally known to mitigate negative planetary influences (doshas).
2. Coconut Oil - Edible Grade
This is an excellent choice, particularly for those in coastal regions where it's a cheap, local, and edible oil.
Shastra Sammat: Also considered a pure and acceptable oil for deepa prajwalana.
Cleanliness: I have found that coconut oil leaves the brass lamps much cleaner than any other oil.
Economics: For those in South India, it’s a very economical daily choice.
Only downside is, the flame does not have the teja (brightness) of sesame oil deepams.
3. Mustard Oil (Sarson Ka Tel) - Edible Grade
Mustard oil is traditionally considered powerful but is best suited for a specific purpose and location.
Guardian Deities: Its energy is believed to be potent for invoking guardian deities and is best used for lamps lit outside the house (e.g., at the main entrance). It is known to burn long, which is ideal for a night-long vigil.
Maintenance Issue: For the brass lamps used in a home puja room, mustard oil is difficult to maintain. It tends to create significant soot buildup and makes cleaning the lamp quite challenging.
⚠️ A Warning Against Marketing Gimmicks
In the current market, you will find various blended products, often marketed with false claims.
"Deepa Ennai" Blends: These are mixtures that typically combine sesame and castor oils (the thickness of castor requires thinning). While this blend can work well and is economical, you cannot guarantee the purity or the absence of cheaper, non-traditional oils.
Rice Bran Oil Claims: Be wary of products that claim Rice Bran Oil is "pleasant to Lakshmi Devi." This is purely a sales pitch with no basis in traditional Shastras. Based on my experience and research, I personally avoid using Rice Bran oil for deepams.
As dedicated practitioners, we must prioritize authenticity and purity over the cheapest price tag or marketing hype. The small saving is not worth compromising the sanctity of the ritual.
Conclusion: Light with Wisdom
Choosing the right oil for your deepam is a balance between spiritual fidelity and practical reality. We are guided by tradition to use what is pure and natural.
For daily purity and convenience, I recommend sticking to pure sesame oil or coconut oil (depending on your local tradition and availability).
Reserve mustard oil for the outside perimeter of the home.
May the Divine Mother grant us the prosperity to light all our lamps with pure Ghee one day! Until then, may your carefully chosen flame illuminate your home with knowledge, peace, and spiritual growth.
When we enter the Ananteshwara Temple in Udupi, on the left side of the entrance, the below painting is seen.
This is a reproduction done recently, on top of a much more beautiful original version of this painting. There were multiple beautiful paintings in the complex, which i used to love when i visited Udupi prior to 2018, after which they were all painted over and destroyed, possibly in the last renovation done.
Lets understand how it records the entire story of the temple in a single frame, with images and zero words.
The Central Figure: Lord Parashurama – The Axe-Wielding Sage
At the heart of the painting sits a powerful, radiant sage, distinctly holding a large axe (Parashu). This figure is unequivocally Lord Parashurama, the sixth avatar of Vishnu. He is not merely a warrior, but a Brahma-Kshatriya – a Brahmin by birth, a fierce protector of Dharma by action.
His presence immediately grounds the painting in a deep mythological context, setting the stage for divine intervention and profound spiritual events. The axe itself is his defining attribute, linking him to the creation of the land of Kerala and coastal Karnataka.
The King and the Serpent: Atonement and Foundation
Look to the right of Parashurama. We see a dignified figure, a king, standing in a posture of deep reverence and supplication. Now, turn your gaze to the ground before Parashurama: a clearly depicted dead or severely injured serpent. This combination points directly to the legend of King Ramabhoja.
According to legend, King Ramabhoja, while performing a yaga (sacrificial ritual) or during a hunt, accidentally killed a divine serpent (Naga). Gripped by remorse and the sin of Naga-hatya (killing a serpent), he sought penance from the mighty Parashurama. This painting captures that very moment of atonement, where the King bows before the sage, accepting his divine judgment. It is this pivotal event and Ramabhoja's subsequent penance that forms the foundational legend of the sacred site where the Ananteshwara Temple now stands.
The Old Couple and Child: The Pious Seekers and the Lingam's Manifestation
Now, shift your focus to the left side of the painting. Here, we observe an old couple and a child, also in gestures of profound devotion. This is where the story of the Ananteshwara Lingam's miraculous appearance comes to life.
As our detailed history reveals: a pious, issueless young couple of the Bharadvaja gotra prayed tirelessly for a son. Guided by a divine dream, they were directed to specific sacred spots in the Abjaranya (Udupi's ancient name). They bathed in the Candrapuskarani and worshipped at Candreśvara (Chandramauleshwara Temple). The crucial instruction led them to the old yagabhūmi of King Ramabhoja. Here, upon pouring milk, a silver pedestal with serpent images appeared, and on it, a Linga manifested – the very Ananteshwara Lingam.
The old couple and child in the painting, therefore, embody these devout ancestors, witnessing or receiving the divine boon that led to the Lingam's emergence. They represent the unwavering faith that underpinned the temple's genesis.
The Lingam: A Symbol of Hari-Hara Unity
Moola Vigraha - Srimad Ananteshwara
While not explicitly detailed as a 'crack' in every visual representation, the Ananteshwara Lingam itself (often seen at the feet of Parashurama in such illustrative paintings) is unique. Its very name, Ananteshwara (Ananta + Eshwara), denotes the union of Vishnu (represented by Ananta, the divine serpent) and Shiva (Eshwara). Devotees often interpret natural fissures or markings on this ancient Lingam as a visual testament to this Hari-Hara (Vishnu-Shiva) unity, making it a unique pilgrimage site. The serpent images on the pedestal, too, reinforce the 'Ananta' aspect.
The Broader Narrative: History, Devotion, and Resilience
This painting is more than just a beautiful piece of art; it's a meticulously crafted historical document. It encapsulates:
Divine Origin: The miraculous manifestation of the Lingam through pious devotion.
Royal Patronage & Penance: King Ramabhoja's atonement and his role in establishing the sacred site.
Mythological Connection: The overarching presence of Parashurama, tying the temple to the broader lore of coastal Karnataka's creation.
Community Identity: It reaffirms the spiritual roots of communities like the Shivalli Brahmins, who venerate this temple as their cultural heart.
This painting, therefore, serves as a powerful reminder of how ancient cultures used visual storytelling to preserve their most cherished histories and spiritual truths, making them accessible and resonant across generations. The Ananteshwara Temple stands today as a living testament to these profound narratives, forever etched not just in stone, but in the vibrant colors of devotion.
It's fascinating to look back and see how our daily work rhythms have evolved. I recently found a note detailing an average 9.5-hour workday from 2012. The data reveals a culture very different from the flexible, remote-friendly, deep-work focused environments many of us experience today.
The full timeline stretched from 8:00 AM to 5:30 PM. Here is the breakdown:
The 2012 Workday Timeline
Time Slot
Activity
Duration
8:00 AM – 9:00 AM
Breakfast
1 hour
9:00 AM – 11:00 AM
Calls and Work
2 hours
11:00 AM – 11:30 AM
Tea Break
30 minutes
11:30 AM – 12:30 PM
Work
1 hour
12:30 PM – 2:00 PM
Lunch
1.5 hours
2:00 PM – 3:45 PM
Work
1 hour 45 minutes
3:45 PM – 4:15 PM
Tea Break
30 minutes
4:15 PM – 5:30 PM
Work
1 hour 15 minutes
(Total Time)
Total Presence
9.5 hours
Note: An additional 45 minutes was spent on personal calls and "timepass" throughout the day.
Key Insights: Presence Over Productivity
When you tally the hours, some surprising numbers emerge, highlighting a stark difference between time spent in the office and time spent working:
1. Low Direct Productivity
Total Productive Work Time:4.5 hours
The Takeaway: In a 9.5-hour day, only about 50% of the time was spent on actual tasks. The workday was long on presence but low on direct task focus.
2. The Culture of Extended Breaks
Total Scheduled Break Time:3.5 hours (Breakfast, Lunch, and two Tea Breaks).
The Takeaway: This suggests a workplace culture that highly prioritized extended, shared meal and social breaks. The long 1.5-hour lunch, in particular, anchored the middle of the day.
3. Stop-Start Flow
The 4.5 hours of work were heavily fragmented, broken up into four separate blocks: 2 hrs, 1 hr, 1 hr 45 min, and 1 hr 15 min.
The Takeaway: There was very little opportunity for "deep work". The day was characterized by a "stop-start" flow, constantly interrupted by scheduled breaks, making high-focus work difficult.
4. Distractions Were Contained
Personal Time/Distraction:45 minutes
The Takeaway: While nearly an hour of distraction existed, this figure is relatively low compared to modern studies on digital distraction. This likely reflects a pre-peak smartphone/social media era where personal time was a little more contained.
What do you think? Does this 2012 workday look familiar to you? How does it compare to your current routine, especially now that hybrid and remote work are common? Share your thoughts in the comments!
The rhythm of creation often mirrors the earth's own pulse. As the monsoons recede, the river, having generously enriched her banks with invaluable silt, leaves behind the very essence from which Ganapati emerges. This "dirt of the Devi's body" is playfully sculpted into the form of Ganapati, a tradition deeply rooted in the Bhadrapada Shukla Chavathi. His arrival, or Agamana, from this primal clay, and his eventual Visarjan back into the same waters, beautifully encapsulates the cyclical nature of existence. Devi, his mother, arrives a day prior on Tayi/Teej, her beloved Ganapa following, completing this sacred anticipation.
Yet, a profound mystery shrouds Ganapati's emergence. How can the Akash Devata (Lord of Space) choose to manifest from water (Jala Tattva)? As the revered Usha Mangeshkar ji sings in "Rachilya Rushi Munini":
येसी जळातुनी तू कोणा कळे न हेतू
अजुनी भ्रमात सारे योगी मुनी महंत
"How can we understand your objective of coming out of water…
when Rishis, Munis and Mahants are themselves not clear about it."
This paradox hints at a deeper truth. Akasha, meaning space, represents possibility and opportunity. Without space, nothing can be created; without opportunity, nothing can progress. Indeed, space is often considered the first element, a point of deep philosophical debate across the six Darshanas. Ganapati, as the deity of Akasha, is therefore worshipped first, to invoke opportunity and clear the path. A lack of opportunity is the greatest impediment (Vighna), making him the Vighnantaka, the destroyer of obstacles.
His association extends to the sense of smell, which is why he possesses a long nose or trunk. Furthermore, his connection to the Mooladhara Chakra, the Earth chakra, signifies that his grace is paramount for spiritual upliftment, as all spiritual journeys commence from this foundational energetic center. The creation of his Vigraha (idol) from clay further solidifies this deep association with the Earth element.
The Iconography of Stability and Wisdom
Sthairya – Stability – is a cornerstone of Ganapati's very being:
स्थिरैरङ्गैस्तुष्टुवागँसस्तनूभिः
The path of Ashtanga Yoga begins with Aasana Siddhi—the ability to sit stably. Both physical steadiness and mental tranquility are crucial precursors to any form of success. While children are naturally restless, and adults often struggle with mental agitation even during prayer, Ganapati Upasana becomes vital for all, especially for cultivating focus and peace.
Ganesha’s iconography – a Gajanana (elephant-faced), pot-bellied, and inherently heavy form – powerfully symbolizes this stability. He is revered as Guru, a term for both teacher and for that which is heavy, echoing the Sanskrit "Gurutvaakarshana" (gravity). Stability, in itself, has the power to resolve countless obstacles.
Consider the notion of riding a mouse. No one can truly control a mouse, yet Ganapa is known as Mooshakadhwaja. The mouse, in this context, is a potent signifier of our unstable minds and restless senses. Without Ganapati's Anugraha (grace), these turbulent inner forces remain unchecked. Thus, he is the controller of the Mushaka, guiding us towards inner mastery.
The Sacred Form: Omkara Swaroopa
His very form is a profound symbol. When viewed from the side, his Vakratunda (curved face), the expansive Lambodara (big belly), his long trunk, and the crescent moon (Bhalachandra) on his head coalesce to form the sacred symbol of Omkara. This is why he is revered as Omkara Swaroopa. Even in a less popular frontal view, his ancient iconography has been observed to distinctly create the Omkara form, akin to how the Greek letter Omega appears to some.
Original representation of Omkaara on a leaf
One of his tusks is notably broken, held in his hand. This Ekadanta (single-tusked) form points to his renowned role as a scribe. His most immortalized act as a writer is recorded in the Mahabharata, where he was entrusted with transcribing the epic, under the condition that he would only write what he fully understood. That the Lord of the Ganas would undertake such a task remains a mystery, one perhaps illuminated by Sant Dnyaneshwar's observation in the opening lines of the Dnyaneshwari:
एके हाति दंतु | जो स्वभावता खंडितु |
तो बौद्धमत संकेतु | वार्तिकांचा || १२ ||
Ganapati: Lord of All Ganas
The term "Gana" holds dual significance. Firstly, it refers to the Bhoota Ganas, the elemental beings known for creating obstacles. As the Natha (Lord) of these Ganas, he is called Ganapati or Gananatha, maintaining them in check and ensuring smooth undertakings by mitigating their inherent tendency to obstruct.
Secondly, "Gana" refers to groups of elements, particularly in Sanskrit grammar (Vyakaran). As the lord of these linguistic Ganas, his grace is sought for mastery of language, eloquence, composition, and music. It is no surprise, then, that he was the chosen scribe for Bhagawan Vedavyasa's monumental Bharata, itself considered the Pancham Veda.
Note - The lyrics are not pronounced correctly in this version, and one stanza is out of order. But that should not take away the credit for being one of the beautiful renditions of this piece. I consider this as one step taken in the right direction by the producers and artistes, with whatever limited understanding they had about the lyrics.
Lyrics and Translation (corrected)
बाळा जो जो रे कुळभूषणा । दशरथनंदना ।
निद्रा करि बाळा मनमोहना । रामा लक्षुमणा ॥धृ॥
Sleep, my child, ornament of the family, son of Dasharatha.
Sleep, my beloved child, Rama and Lakshmana.
पाळणा लांबविला अयोध्येसी । दशरथाचे वंशी ।
पुत्र जन्मला हृषीकेशी । कौसल्येचे कुशी ॥१॥
A cradle was set in Ayodhya, in Dasharatha's lineage.
A son, Hrushikeshi (Lord Vishnu), was born from Kaushalya's womb.
रन्तजडित पालख । झळके अलौकिक ।
वरती पहुडले कुलदिपक । त्रिभुवननायक ॥२॥
The jewel-studded cradle gleams, priceless.
Above it rests the lamp of the lineage, the Lord of the three worlds.
हालवी कौसल्या सुंदरी । धरुनी ज्ञानदोरी ।
पुष्पे वर्षिली सुरवरी । गर्जती जयजयकार ॥३॥
Beautiful Kaushalya rocks it, holding the string of knowledge.
Gods shower flowers, resounding with shouts of victory.
विश्वव्यापका रघुराया । निद्रा करी बा सखया ।
तुजवर कुरवंडी करुनिया । सांडिन आपुली काया ॥४॥
O All-pervading Raghuraya, sleep, my friend.
I will sacrifice myself for you, doing a protective ritual (kuravandi)
येऊनि वसिष्ठ सत्वर । सागे जन्मांतर ।
राम परब्रहा साचार । सातवा अवतार ॥५॥
Sage Vasishta quickly came and speaking of his divine birth, declared
Rama is truly the Supreme Being, the seventh incarnation.
याग रक्षुनिया अवधारा । मारुनि रजनीचरा ।
जाईल सीतेच्या स्वयंवरा । उद्धरि गौतमदारा ॥६॥
He protected the yagna (sacrifice) and killed the rakshasas (Khara Dushana Tataki).
He went to Sita's Swayamvara and liberated Ahalya (Gautama's wife).
पर्णिले जानकी सुरुपा । भंगुनिया शिवचापा ।
रावण लज्जित महाकोप । नव्हे पण हा सोपा ॥७॥
He married beautiful Janaki (Sita), breaking Shiva's bow.
Ravana was greatly enraged and shamed, realising the difficulty of the condition (for Sita's swayamvara)
सिंधूजलडोही अवलीळा । नामे तरतिल शिळा ।
त्यावरी उतरुनिया दयाळा । नेईल वानरमेळा ॥८॥
By his name, stones floated effortlessly on the ocean's waters.
Crossing upon them, the compassionate one led the army of monkeys.
समूळ मर्दूनि रावण । स्थापिल बिभीषण ।
देव सोडविले संपूर्ण । आनंदले त्रिभुवन ॥९॥
Completely destroying Ravana, he established Vibhishana.
He liberated all the gods, and the three worlds rejoiced.
राम भावाचा भुकेला । भक्ताधीन झाला ।
दास विठ्ठले ऎकिला । पाळणा गाईला ॥१०॥
Rama is hungry for devotion, he becomes subservient to his devotees.
Thus, Vitthala Dasa (the poet) heard this and sang this lullaby.
Foot-note
कुरवंडी (Kuravandi) is a traditional Indian ritual, primarily practiced in Maharashtra and other parts of India, which involves waving certain items around a person or an idol to ward off evil or negative influences, and to bring good fortune.
Here's a breakdown of what it entails:
The Act: It involves a circular motion, often with specific items like:
Lamps (deepa/arati): Waving lamps or an arati (a plate with lit wicks) around an idol or a person is a very common form of kuravandi, especially in religious contexts. This is done to honor the deity/person and to dispel any negative energy.
Rice, salt, turmeric, kumkum: These ingredients are often used, particularly during auspicious occasions like weddings or welcoming a new baby. The belief is that these items absorb any negative energy or "evil eye" directed towards the person, and then they are usually discarded.
Purpose:
To remove malignant influences/evil eye (drishta): This is a primary reason for performing kuravandi. It's believed that others' envy or negative thoughts can cause harm, and this ritual helps to counteract that.
To bestow blessings and good fortune: By cleansing the aura, it's thought to invite positive energy and prosperity.
As a gesture of love and protection: Especially when performed by elders for children, or by a wife for her husband, it's a symbolic act of wishing them well and protecting them.
The Song: Sometimes, as mentioned in the dictionary definition, "kuravandi" can also refer to the song appropriate to this rite. The lullaby you provided is a perfect example, as the line "Tujavar kuravandi karuniya" (performing kuravandi over you) directly refers to this protective ritual for baby Rama.
In essence, kuravandi is a ritual rooted in folk beliefs and cultural practices, intended to safeguard loved ones and bring auspiciousness.
This song is attributed to Purandara Dasa, the father of Carnatic music and a profound saint-poet.
It beautifully critiques performative spirituality and reminds us that sincere devotion—especially through Nama Smarana (chanting the name of the Lord)—is more meaningful than elaborate rituals.