Naani Form

From shadowpoetry.com:

Naani is one of India’s most popular Telugu poems.   Naani means an expression of one and all.

It consists of 4 lines, the total lines consists of 20 to 25 syllables.  The poem is not bounded to a particular subject.  Generally it depends upon human relations and current statements.  This poetry was introduced by one of the renowned Telugu poets Dr.  N. Gopi, presently working as vice-chancellor to Telugu University, Andhra Pradesh.

Four of my Naani poems: 

Chanting universal sounds,
amethyst mala counting around,
chakras’ energy begins to spin.


  An amethyst mala; Google Images

Repeating the same
promise for over twenty years,
your words reach ears
too filled for more.
 
Amazingly cruel,
the ability to tear
down that which you
never encouraged.

With a handshake
and a pat on the back…
sharks circle, grins stretching
wide…reeling in their supporters.

Google Images

Claudia invites us to OpenLinkNight Week 57 at dVerse Poets:  http://dversepoets.com/2012/08/14/openlinknight-week-57/

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Sacred Music

     Sacred music has taken different forms throughout my life.  First through the Christian church of my parents, I learned hymns that I was taught as a child in Sunday school–many of those ancient songs touching my heart more deeply as I grew older.

     But as a teenager, I made a different choice for my spiritual path and with that came learning mantra chanting, especially kirtan (devotional chanting).  Much of this music that I learned was sung in Gurmukhi, the Sanskrit-based language of the Sikh scriptures written hundreds of years ago.  It is said that if you chant the verses in their original written form, the specific tones can actually raise the vibration of the different energy centers in the body and can promote healing and stability.

     There is a vibratory frequency that corresponds to everything in the universe. Happiness or sorrow, joy or regret are vibratory frequencies in the mind. When we chant a mantra we are choosing to invoke the positive power contained in those particular syllables. Whether it’s for prosperity, peace of mind, increasing intuition, or any other possible benefits inherent in mantras, simply by chanting them, we are setting vibrations into motion that shall have an effect. It doesn’t actually matter if we understand the meaning of the sounds or not.

     Learning to chant had a profound effect on my life.  Still to this day, many years after I have left the ashram life where I learned so much about spirituality, I can chant along with the sacred songs written by ancient masters and be propelled into a space of heart opening and gratitude.

My entry for Monday Morning Writing Prompt–Sacred Music:  http://liv2write2day.wordpress.com/2011/11/14/monday-morning-writing-prompt-sacred-music/

My Mala

Mala, Buddhist prayer beads.

Image via Wikipedia

My mala has one hundred and eight beads.

It keeps count as I chant–

Through my fingers it passes.

A cool little tool,

It helps bring me ease.

Mentally I intone–Om.

This is my submission for Sunday’s 160–inspired by Victoria.

The Crashing Down the Mountain Story

While attending “ladies’ camp” in Espanola, New Mexico one summer, it was decided that we would all take a drive up a nearby mountain, have a picnic and enjoy the warm, summer day.  An old school bus had been chartered to take us up but I somehow missed the bus that morning and ended up riding with a couple of other women in a pick-up truck driven by one of the hired hands at the camp.

We enjoyed our relaxing and uneventful afternoon and when it was time to return, one of the women approached me and asked if I would mind taking her place on the bus so she could ride back down in the truck (I think she had a crush on the cute truck driver).  No, I didn’t mind; so I boarded the bus and we began the hour-plus trip to camp on the tightly twisting, mountain road.  I took a seat at the rear of the bus and shortly after we got started, a friend and I heard a car’s horn blasting persistently.  We turned around to look out the back window and the people in the car behind us were frantically trying to get our attention.  It was then we saw the smoke–and at that same moment we realized something was terribly wrong.  The brakes had gone out!

When we realized our predicament of terror–we grabbed hands, clutching at each other and started praying and chanting out loud to God and guru.  I remember briefly thinking–is this the way I’m going to die?  In looking back, though, I’m amazed at the calmness that came over me at that moment.

We quickly gained speed as we lost all ability to slow down, and as we hit bumps and dips in the pavement were being violently jostled and bounced.  Our driver was actually thrown out of her seat twice (and managed to get back into it) as she bravely maneuvered the bus, repeatedly “scraping” the out-of-control vehicle along the face of the mountain in an attempt to slow us.  There were areas along one side of the road where cliffs fell steeply into ravines and she was trying to avoid us going over them.  She had her one year old baby on the trip with us that day and I’m sure that that had something to do with her valiant efforts to bring us to safety.

The driver’s attempts finally paid off as we came to a tumbling halt, the elderly bus heaving one last time as we flipped over, landed upside down and skidded off the side of the road.

Help arrived in minutes and several of us were driven in a police squad car to the nearest hospital to be checked out.  I had suffered a bloody cut on my foot which required a tetanus shot and had sprained my neck as I landed on it sideways.  I had to wear a neck brace for several weeks while it healed.  One of the baby’s arms was broken but no one was seriously injured.

Upon returning home to Massachusetts I suffered from post traumatic stress disorder.  I felt a real sense of loss of control while riding in vehicles that I perceived as going too fast, especially if we “bumped” at any point.  I would become aware of my right foot pressing deeply into the floorboard, unconsciously trying to slow us.  Riding on the subway could also induce panic as it sometimes felt we were blasting along at excessive, out-of-control speeds.  I became one, big “white knuckle”.  The fear has lessened over the years but can still rear its head at times, instantly returning me to that day on the mountain.

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