From Kartavya Path to Vijay Chowk : When the Republic Became a Celebration and a Symphony

From Kartavya Path to Vijay Chowk : When the Republic Became a Celebration and a Symphony
A personal reflection on Republic Day’s uniqueness and my first Beating Retreat

Republic Day celebrations in Delhi are known for their  distinct majesty, something that cannot be captured fully in photographs or in televised frames. On that day ,Kartavya Path becomes a living corridor of national pride, where India walks forward in step with history, strength and culture.
And so when  I got an opportunity to witness this year’s 77th Republic Day celebrations in Delhi I was very excited.
What made this year special was not only the scale of the celebrations, but the uniqueness of its spirit a perfect blend of heritage, strength, culture and the rising power of Nari Shakti.
The arrival of Hon’ble President Droupadi Murmu, the Hon’ble Vice President C.P.Radhakrishnan and the Hon’ble Prime Minister Narendra Modi added solemn dignity to the celebrations. The presence of global leaders, President of the European Council António Luís Santos da Costa and President of the European Commission Ursula von der Leyen made it more meaningful as they witnessed the strength of Indian democracy and the warmth of India’s civilisational diplomacy.
The Investiture Ceremony, where President Droupadi Murmu conferred the Ashoka Chakra on Astronaut Sudhanshu Shukla, was  a moment of pride and reverence.
Equally inspiring were the thrilling acrobatics on motorcycles, performed by the women of the forces. Their balance, confidence and fearless precision were not just entertainment but a message that India’s daughters are not merely participants in the nation’s progress they are team mates in it's driving force.
The parade also showcased the breathtaking beauty of the tableaux each one a moving story, a cultural signature, a proud identity of a state. And for me, there was a special surge of pride in witnessing Maharashtra’s tableau, centred on our benevolent Shri Ganesh the remover of obstacles, the symbol of auspicious beginnings. It felt as though Maharashtra had brought not just artistry, but blessings to Kartavya Path.
Alongside culture, there was also a powerful reflection of India’s growing capability military strength, discipline, and modern preparedness presented with dignity and confidence.
If pride had a visual expression, it would be that extraordinary moment when the skies opened in celebration. The four Mi-17 1V helicopters, flying in Dhwaj formation, showered flowers over Kartavya Path. It was a gentle contrast, military aircraft, symbols of strength, delivering not force but flowers. And that, perhaps, is India in its truest spirit: power with compassion, strength with grace.
 The Tri-services tableau, featuring replicas of weapon systems associated with Operation Sindoor including BrahMos, Akash, and the S-400 air defence system was a reminder that peace is not accidental; it is protected.
The DRDO’s advanced hypersonic glide missile (LR-AShM) displayed India’s expanding scientific ambition, while the Navy’s tableau highlighting the mighty INS Vikrant spoke of maritime pride and strategic readiness.

 The fly-past, with formations like Vajraang and Vijay, featuring aircraft including Rafale, Su-30 MKI and MiG-29, drew every eye upward. In those roaring engines, one could hear not noise but reassurance.
Yet, amid the power and precision, it was art that made the day truly complete. The performance by 2500 artists curated by the Sangeet Natak Akademi on “Vande Mataram” was a reminder that India’s greatest strength lies not only in her weapons, but in her soul.
There are moments when a song becomes more than melody it becomes identity so as Vande Mataram rose in chorus, one could feel the collective heartbeat of a nation.
The Republic Day parade reminded us once again: India is ancient in soul, modern in strength, and united in spirit.
But this year, what stayed with me the most was not only the grandeur of the parade on the 26th January. It was what came after what the Republic saves for its final chapter,  the Beating Retreat Ceremony.
If Republic Day morning is a proclamation bold, bright and resounding then the evening of 29th January is something far deeper. It is not a spectacle alone. It is a salute, a thanksgiving, and a closing prayer offered by the nation to those who guard it.
This was the first time I experienced Beating Retreat in person, and I can say without hesitation: it is one of the most stirring national ceremonies one can witness.
As the evening descended, Vijay Chowk transformed. The illuminated grandeur of Rashtrapati Bhavan, North Block and South Block formed a breathtaking backdrop almost as if history itself was standing at attention.
The Beating Retreat Ceremony held at Vijay Chowk is unlike any other event where the solemnity of tradition is combined with the beauty of music. It originated in the 17th century England as a signal for soldiers to return to their fort at sunset, drums beating to call them back from patrol, the evening gun marking the close of the day.
In India, this ceremony took a uniquely dignified form in the 1950s, introduced after Independence as a ceremonial tradition. Conceived by Major G.A. Roberts of the Grenadiers Regiment, it evolved into a signature event of national life, an evening where the Republic bids farewell to its celebrations, and turns inward to reflection.
As the Massed Bands of the Army, Navy, Air Force and CAPF marched in synchrony, tunes flowed some familiar, some stirring, all deeply moving. There was a rhythm in their steps, a unity in their formations, and an unmistakable message: our freedom is guarded every day, often quietly, always faithfully.
The atmosphere changed. It became quieter. More reverent and powerful. Music with Military Precision. 

When the Massed Bands began marching, I felt something I had not expected. It was awe not just because of the grandeur of the setting, or the sheer number of performers but because every movement carried the unmistakable imprint of training, focus and purpose. Each step landed as if it had been rehearsed not for weeks, but for years. Every formation was exact measured, symmetrical, almost mathematical in perfection.
It was precision that felt sacred. Every movement, every turn, every formation carried the unmistakable stamp of discipline.
And in that discipline was a lesson: this is how the nation is protected through training, coordination, alertness, and unwavering commitment.
For the first time, I could see the greatness of our Defence Forces in a way beyond uniforms and ceremonies.
The evening was musical, but their precision reflected dedication to the cause of safeguarding our nation, silently and steadfastly. 

Beating Retreat 2026 also  carried themes that resonated strongly with the over-arching theme of  150 years of Vande Mataram and the rising spirit of Nari Shakti. It celebrated not only tradition but contemporary India confident, prepared, and inclusive.
The formations were breathtaking Garuda Vyuha, tributes to Operation Sindoor, and other displays that blended heritage with modern military identity. There was a clear message that India honours her past, protects her present, and prepares for her future. The evening began with the iconic march ‘Kadam Kadam Badhaye Ja’ followed by The Pipes and Drums featuring a range of patriotic compositions which were mesmerising.
The Indian Air Force, Navy and Army bands, CAPF  then took turns to enthral the audience with powerful and inspiring tunes and stirring renditions of ‘Vijayee Bharat’, ‘Aarambh Hai, Prachand Hai’ and ‘Aye Watan, Aye Watan’.
In the finale, the Massed Bands played ‘Bharat Ke Shaan’ and ‘Vande Mataram’. The ceremony concluded with the timeless patriotic tune ‘Sare Jahan Se Acha’, performed by the Buglers.
However it was Vande Mataram which evoked deep-rooted emotions of love and respect for the motherland.
Then came the moment which I shall always remember, the sunset bugle call, the lowering of flags and the slow, dignified conclusion with the Hon’ble President riding back.
In those few minutes, the crowd was silent with emotion as if the nation was pausing to express gratitude.
I understood, perhaps for the first time, that the greatest strength of a nation is not only in its missiles or its marching columns or its mighty machines. It is in the discipline of its defenders, in the precision of their steps, in the silence of their sacrifice and in the music they offer to the nation before returning to guard it again.
The Republic Day celebrations ended but the clocks continued to chime because while we sleep, the forces  stand steadfastly. The celebrations on Kartavya Path were like the sunrise while the Beating Retreat was like an evening prayer at Vijay Chowk.Not ending but echoing glories of our nation.

R.Vimala,  IAS, 

Resident Commissioner & Secretary,  

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Sankranti , Haldi-Kumkum and the Courage to Change Our Thinking...

Sankranti , Haldi-Kumkum and the Courage to Change Our Thinking...

Yesterday, we celebrated Sankranti Haldi Kumkum with a group in Delhi. The warmth of togetherness, laughter and shared memories filled the room much like countless such gatherings across Maharashtra and beyond.
Sankranti, especially in Maharashtra, is inseparable from tilgud, a sweet reminder to spread warmth as the sun begins its northward journey. It is also a time when womanhood is celebrated through Haldi Kumkum.
Haldi, turmeric, by itself, is auspicious used in rituals, kitchens, and healing since time immemorial. Kumkum is something girls are introduced to in childhood, long before marriage even enters their imagination.
And yet, somewhere along the way, these two simple, pure symbols became tightly bound to marriage.
So much so that a woman who loses her husband is quietly pushed out of such celebrations. She is no longer considered suwasini or sowbhagyavati. In many parts of the South, she is labelled amangali, inauspicious. The loss of a partner becomes not just grief, but becomes the reason for lifelong social disqualification. 
What is striking is the contrast !
A man who loses his wife becomes a widower but he is never barred from religious, social, or cultural functions. No ritual excludes him. No label of inauspiciousness follows him. Why then such a different yardstick for women who face the same loss?
Isn’t it time we asked ourselves why?
I, for one, have never observed this exclusion. So, a couple of years ago, when I organised a Haldi Kumkum at my office in Pune, where I was posted ,all women were included.  Some women who were widows became emotional because they were unfamiliar with such inclusion and had been facing humiliation. It was a reminder of how deeply such silent exclusions wound, and how healing simple acceptance can be.

Recently, a member from another group objected to the very nomenclature “Sankranti Haldi Kumkum”' stating it was inappropriate . We changed the name of the event but it made me pause. Is the problem and the discrimination really in the ritual or are they in our minds?
When did turmeric, a symbol of purity, health, and prosperity, become a marker of marital status? When did kumkum, worn by little girls with innocence and joy, turn into a reason to deny dignity to a woman who has already endured loss? We also need to think about the cause of this exclusion. Such restrictions are not divine mandates. They're social constructs made by us  which can be changed with realization. 
Traditions are meant to bring communities together , not divide them. Rituals are meant to comfort, not exclude. If such exclusions due to man-made customs begin  to hurt, perhaps we need to question their appropriateness. 
Maybe the real Sankranti, the true transition is not in the movement of the sun, but in the evolution of our thoughts and thinking.
And perhaps, the sweetness of tilgud will truly matter only when it is shared unconditionally with all women widowed or otherwise. 

R.Vimala,  IAS, 

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra, 

Compassionate Civil Servant & PhD Scolar 

( Views expressed are personal as yet )

Divine Canvas: Pratima Abhange's Mythological Paintings at Lalit Kala Akademi

Divine Canvas: Pratima Abhange's Mythological Paintings at Lalit Kala Akademi

I am no connoisseur yet art, music, culture always lifts my heart. Walking into Pratima Abhange's exhibition at Lalit Kala Akademi in Delhi not only lifted my heart but also made me step  into Bharat's glorious mythological history. These are not just fables  shown in a dull way but an exhibition which brings our ancient glory alive with fresh ideas, strong colours, and deep thought. On display till January 25, the exhibition invites visitors to pause, reflect, and reconnect with India’s cultural roots.
As soon as you enter, a large painting of Samudra Manthan catches your eye. The scale at which the  churning of the ocean by gods and demons is shown and it's energy is overwhelming. Pratima has managed to capture that palpable moment when gods and demons collaborated in their quest for amrit, the nectar of immortality. The swirling and the tension between opposing forces are all enhanced by little elements like the Panchajanya conch, moon or parijat flowers. This divine energy flows through all the artworks. Each painting turns a well-known story into something new and meaningful.
The Jaya Samhita canvas presents the moment when Sage Vyasa dictated the Mahabharata to Shri Ganesh, who served as his scribe. Pratima renders this scene in earthy, grounded colours connecting the divine to the terrestrial and invoking spiritualism.
Her painting of Hanuman carrying the Sanjeevani Parvat is not about strength only  but also  brings out devotion, faith, and selfless service. The mountain looks heavy, yet effortless in Hanuman’s hands symbolising the power of devotion.
Pratima has used bright colours in the Gita Upadesh painting along with traditional puppetry. According to her the idea of puppet strings was used to suggest that our lives are controlled and guided by some higher power. She has also interpreted purusarthas, goals of life   through the four layers of a horse, representing  dharma, artha, kama, and moksha. They become a visual philosophy lesson, showing how these pursuits are layered, interconnected, and ultimately inseparable aspects of human existence.
Anand Murti, has been inspired by the exquisite sculptures of Halebid and Belur and bring out Pratima's technical mastery despite being a self made artist.  She has made clever use of rock-like hues and textures to connect with the stone from which those temple sculptures were carved in the medieval era.
Simran Samadhi on meditation depicts Nandi surrounded by distraught bells and veena used as instruments of disturbance. It captures the core of Advaita philosophy of  stithapradnyata, to be alert and aware and being detached even in chaos. In a world which constantly demands  response or reaction from us, this ancient wisdom suggesting slowing down and absorbing life's nuances feels just right.
Many other works like Vasudeva Carrying Krishna, Ashwamedha Yagna, Yashoda and Kanha, and Warrior’s Paradox offer fresh views of familiar stories. They remind us that mythology always has new meanings to share.
But of all the powerful works in this exhibition, one image refuses to release its hold on my imagination,  Sita with the Shiv Dhanush. We are accustomed to seeing Sita in moments of trial undergoing the agni pariksha or languishing in the Ashoka Vatika, defined by her suffering and patience. Here, Pratima reclaims a different moment from her story  where young Sita , as King Janak's daughter  lifted Shiva's bow with divine ease, a feat that many princes couldn't accomplish.
This revolutionary painting presents Sita not as victim but as a woman of formidable, divine strength. Pratima reminds us that our traditions already contain these images of female power we simply need to choose to see them, to celebrate them, to place them at the center of our narratives.
What makes this exhibition special is that it makes  mythology not some tales from the past but relevant even in modern era. The paintings speak about duty, devotion, wisdom, power, and identity which are important even today.
Pratima Abhange’s exhibition at Lalit Kala Akademi, Rabindra Bhavan, New Delhi, is open till January 25, 2026. Art lovers and anyone who wishes to see India’s mythology told in a new, thoughtful, and inspiring way must visit this exhibition, to rediscover the timeless nectar of our traditions.

The Time of Youth is Now...

The Time of Youth is Now...
Last week, at Maharashtra Sadan, we observed Jijau Maasaheb Jayanti and Swami Vivekananda Jayanti which is also celebrated as National Youth Day throughout the country.  As I paid my homage to both, I was struck by a singular realization that home is the sanctuary where values are forged but the youth are the force which take forth those values into the soul of a nation.
History will always remember Jijau Maasaheb, as an epitome of purposeful motherhood. As the mother of Chhatrapati Shivaji Maharaj who shaped a child into a just ruler and a  nation builder by narrating mythological stories of valour which instilled discipline, and ethics in him. Her example portrays that the earliest lessons of courage, justice, honesty, dedication and self-respect are not learnt in classrooms, but begin from home.
That same legacy of value-based upbringing found a global voice in Swami Vivekananda. At the World Parliament of Religions in Chicago in 1893, a young monk from a colonised nation stood before the world and spoke with quiet confidence, intellectual clarity, and spiritual authority. 

His opening words“Sisters and Brothers of America” instantly captured hearts and restored India’s self-belief.
Swami Vivekananda did not speak as a subject of the British Crown; he spoke as an ambassador of the ancient, glorious Hindu  civilization. His journey reminds today’s youth that preparation, intellectual clarity and spiritual strength are the ultimate tools of revolution.
What confidence he must have had to go alone, speak fearlessly, and represent a nation yet to be free. His commitment, preparation and zeal offer great lessons for today’s youth. It is therefore only fitting that his birth anniversary is celebrated as National Youth Day.
It is sobering to recall that Swami Vivekananda attained samadhi at just thirty nine when he was in the prime of his life. Yet, in that short span, he awakened a nation’s conscience and inspired generations. His call to “Arise, awake and stop not till the goal is reached” is both an inspiration and a warning, do not waste time.
Youth Day also brings to mind the sacrifices of freedom fighters, Bhagat Singh, Sukhdev, and Rajguru young men who embraced the gallows with unwavering resolve. They said with great pride “Waqt aane par bata denge kya hamare dil mein hai.” And when that moment of sacrifice came, they did not hesitate to rebel against the British and give up their lives with a smile. Their lives remind us that actions speak louder than words.
Today's youth are facing different challenges, more so in the digital world. They have to overcome the distractions and consciously balance fun with focus, social media with self-discipline, personal ambition with social responsibility.
We earned our freedom at the cost of youthful lives and great sacrifice so we cannot afford to be indifferent or waste our potential.
In this context, platforms like the New Delhi World Book Fair 2026 which redirect youth to the habit of reading are very relevant. Reading cultivates depth in an age of speed and reflection in an age of noise. 

The theme of this year's World Book Fair was  Indian Military History : Valour and Wisdom @75. It highlighted the contributions of India’s defence forces and their courage as well as sacrifices. Those ideals of discipline, sacrifice, leadership, and service remind young minds that nation-building which happens in the battlefield cannot be frittered away but must be adapted in classrooms, libraries, and communities.
A child who reads is a child who learns to think independently. Mothers, fathers, teachers, and elders all play a role in a child's upbringing but books remain lifelong guides.
From Jijau Maasaheb's nurturing guidance to Swami  Vivekananda’s fearless voice on the world stage, from youthful martyrs to the quiet power of books, the message is clear, strong nations are built when values shape childhood and purpose drives youth.
The choice before today’s young Indians is therefore simple yet profound whether to merely consume time, or to use it meaningfully. Time has never waited for anyone and the youth of India should also not.

R.Vimala,  IAS,  

Resident Commissioner & Secretary,  

Government of Maharashtra  & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Shaaraṇaagati to Oneness : Thirupaavai Paasurams 29 & 30 , Surrender and Union

Shaaraṇaagati to Oneness : Thirupaavai Paasurams 29 & 30 ,  Surrender and Union 
The thirty sacred days of Margazhi have reached a crescendo  with every dawn awakening the soul and enlightening it a little more. As we ponder over the 29th and 30th Paasurams of Thirupaavai, we realise that the journey was never about reaching God. It was about belonging to Him.
In Paasuram 29, gopikas are no longer standing as seekers but as believers, as those who have arrived.
Having risen in 'Brahma Muhurtam' , early dawn, “sitram siru kaale” they  consciously reach early, to place themselves at the lotus feet of Govinda. There is no urgency or desperation but just a quiet certainty to reach Krishna whom they have come to worship. 
“Vandhu unnai seviththu…”We have come only to behold You.
They do not ask for wealth, wisdom, power or liberation but just His feet.
“Un pottramarai adiye pottrum poruḷ kelaay.” Here, darshan itself becomes the reward.
They remind Him tenderly, “Petram meyththu uṇṇum kulaththil pirandhu ni…” You were born among cowherds and belong to the simple and the dependent so take us into Your clan.
This is Sharaṇaagati in its purest form, not seeking elevation, but seeking belonging. Not wanting to become great, but wanting to become His.
And then comes the vow that seals their surrender:
“Unakke naam aaṭcheivom.”For You alone, we exist.
Even if we are born again and again, across countless lives, we will serve You alone. They do not seek release from rebirth; they seek continuity of devotion. Every birth, every breath, only Him.This is not duty.This is kainkaryam born of love.
Moved by such complete surrender, Govinda responds. The parai He grants is not an object, it is acceptance, joy, and divine consent. The soul that surrenders completely is never turned away.
In the 30th Paasuram, the tone gently shifts. What began as the voice of the gopikās now becomes the voice of Aaṇḍaal herself, GodaaDevi, daughter of Periyazhwar (Pattarpiraan). This is the Phalasruti, the Lord’s own assurance to the world.
She speaks of Madhavan and Keshavan, the Lord eternally united with Mahalakshmi, the compassionate One who churned the milky ocean (Vangak Kadal) for the sake of His devotees. This is a God who acts out of love, who goes to any length to uplift those who surrender.
Aandaal promises that whoever recites these thirty Tamil paasurams, sincerely and without interruption, will be blessed eternally hereafter not because the devotee is flawless, but because His grace is boundless.
Even imperfect devotion, when rooted in sincerity, is accepted because where there is Sharaṇaagati, grace flows automatically.
The true depth of Thiruppāvai is perhaps best reflected in Āṇḍāl’s own life. Her journey did not end with the composition of poetry; it ended with her physical and spiritual integration into the Divine. Legend tells us that the Lord appeared in the dreams of her father, Periyazhwar, and the priests of Srirangam, commanding them to bring Aaṇḍaal to Him. So she who sang "Unakke naam aaṭcheivom" was finally united with Lord Ranganatha, she did not merely attain liberation she became one with the God who to whom she was devoted.  Her life stands as a testament to the fact that when a soul surrenders without conditions, God ceases to be distant and draws the devotee into Himself.

Aandaal Thiruvadigale Sharanam...

R.Vimala,  IAS 

Resident Commissioner  & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

“Govinda for the Ordinary Soul : Thirupaavai Paasuram 28 and the Power of Belief”

“Govinda for the Ordinary Soul : Thirupaavai Paasuram 28 and the Power of Belief”

“Karavaigal pin senru…” Aaṇḍaal begins not with pride or  scholarship, but with humility. She places herself and all Gopis /  Bhaktas behind the cows saying , we are followers behind the cows. Not leading. Not guiding. Nor claiming wisdom. Just following…trusting…walking behind.
This one line shatters every illusion of spiritual superiority, presenting Krishna simply as reachable.
She further describes herself as 'Ariv onrum illaatha', meaning someone with no special knowledge.
Aaṇḍaal does not hesitate to declare what many are reluctant to admit, We don’t know much.”  No pompous mastery of scriptures. No flawless rituals. No philosophical debates and yet she walks straight to Govinda because love does not need a certificate.
'Unthannai puniyam yAm udaiyOm', she says, meaning, Our only good deed is surrendering to You. Not grand yajnas.Not years of tapas.Just one act of courage, placing faith where logic ends, Sharaṇaagati, surrender. 

Isn’t that our story too? When life overwhelms us, when words fail, when explanations fall apart, we whisper only one name,  'Unnaiyē thunai endru' meaning, You alone are our refuge.
This is not desperation. This is Mahavishvaasam unshakable belief and faith."You are our only hope.” Not because we tried everything else but because nothing else feels as safe. Govinda...the Small Name with the Greatest Intimacy. 
Aaṇḍaal dares even more when she says, “We may have called you by great names 'Narayaṇa, Aayiraiva' but now our heart chooses the simple ‘Govinda’.” Why? Because Govinda is closeness. Govinda is the God who walks among cows.
Govinda belongs to everyone, scholar or shepherd, saint or sinner.
She elaborates further,  Unthannai piravi perum thanai punniyan yaam udayom meaning, we belong to Your clan. What a powerful declaration. Not “We worship You.” Not even that “We qualify for You.” but simply , “We are Yours.” As You protect innocent, helpless, dependent cows, protect us too.We are no different.

Aandaal knows Krishna has no flaws so she calls out to him as,  'Kurai onrum illatha Govinda' meaning , O flawless Govinda.
In contrast she acknowledges her flaws and never claims perfection. She calls Him perfect and knows He is perfect and still accepts her. That's His grace.
She also confesses gently:“We may have erred. We may not understand much but we love You.” Isn’t this the prayer of the everyday believer? Those who say, I don’t know shlokas, I don’t understand philosophy, I just believe.
This paasuram is for them, for us.

It echoes another immortal line part of a devotional song written by India's former Governor-General , Shri.C.Rajagopalachari (Rajaji), which expressed gratitude to Lord Krishna/Venkateswara and says, “Thiraiyin pin nirkindraai Kannaa, Unnai marai odhum gnyaaniyar mattumae kaaṇbaar…” Even if You stand behind curtains… Even if only scholars claim to see You… “Kurai ondrum enakkillai Kannaa.” I have no deficiency, Krishna because you never forget anyone, not the learned, not the ignorant, not the confident nor even  the trembling heart. In simple words , Paasuram 28 is Sharaṇaagati, surrender, not  born of fear but surrender born of belonging.

We are nothing without each other, You without devotees are incomplete and we without You are lost. This paasuram assures us, God is not the fiefdom of the learned. He is the home of the loving.
And so we ask, simply, “ IRaivaa nee thaaraay paRaiElOr empaavaai ” meaning ,Grant us the drum of Your blessings. Not wealth.Not status. Just Your presence. Just Your grace bcause that is more than enough.

Paasuram 28 is for common people like you and me
who may not know much, but believe deeply.And in that belief, Krishna forever listens.

R.Vimala,  IAS, 

Resident Commissioner  & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Koodaarai Vellum… When Austerity Blossoms into Sweetness...

Koodaarai Vellum… When Austerity Blossoms into Sweetness..

“Maasaaṇaam Maargashirṣhoham...

Among months, I am Maagashirsha, says Sri Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita.
Perhaps that is why Margazhi feels special, deeper and  overflowing with sweetness. It is as if Krishna himself chooses this month to reveal His grace in many ways.
Today is Koodaarai Vellum, the 27th day of Tiruppavai, and my heart feels full.
This year, I am in Delhi, celebrating Sankranti and the Hurda Festival, far away from home. Yet, devotion has no geography. As I recited Andal’s 27th Paasuram this morning and later prepared akkarai vadisal, I felt that same nearness to God And that same warmth of Krishna's grace.
Aandaal, the saint-poetess of Tamil Nadu, is the only woman among the twelve Azhwaars, the Sri Vaishnava mystics of the South. Through her Thiruppavai, thirty exquisite verses or  paasurams, one for each day of Margazhi, her Bhakti deifies Krishna as intensely as Radha or Meera. Each paasuram reveals a stage of devotion , leading from discipline and austerity to surrender, union, and celebration.
Hinduism has never thrived on compulsion. Aandaal does not command; she invites. She gently awakens her friends highlighting glories of Krishna, urging them to rise early, bathe in sacred waters, and immerse themselves in the bhakti of Nandagopan Kumaran, Krishna.
In the 26th Paasuram, Aandaal had addressed Maale Manivannaa, the blue-hued Krishna seeking sacred instruments instead of riches , so that they could sing His glories. She therefore asked for the Panchajanya, the conch, the drum, the temple flag, lamps to dispel darkness, shade for the village.
In the 27th Paasuram, Koodaarai Vellum  everything transforms from abstinence to celebration.
After twenty-six days of consecration, penance has borne fruit. Until now, Aandaal and her companions had embraced austerity, no rich food, no milk or ghee, no flowers in their hair, no kohl in their eyes. But now, having attained the Lord, the mood transforms.
Andal sings,“Choodagame thol valaiye, thode sevi poove,
Paadagame enranaiya palagalanum yaam anivom…”
They had abstained from adorning themselves but would now adorn themselves with bangles, armlets, earrings, flowers, anklets, and flowing silk garments.  Their food too was bland till now but they would now prepare prasadam with rice cooked in milk, sweetened with jaggery, drenched in ghee, flowing down to the elbows.
This is not indulgence; it is abundance sanctified.
In many ways, this paasuram mirrors what Periyazhwar, Andal’s father, sang in the Thiruppallandu , "Neyyidai Sorum, niyathamum atthanai chevagamaum, kaiadaikkAyum, kazutthukku poon, kaadhukku kundalamm, meiyida nalladhor sandham thanthu ennai velluyuriakka valla"  It is the Lord who is the provider of abundance with rice and ghee, ornaments for the neck, earrings, and fragrant sandal paste to apply on the body along with the opportunity to do service to Him daily and yet purify us as white butter to ultimately recognise the Lord and be one with him.  The deity never expects his devotees to lead a puritan existence but to enjoy the blessings of the Lord and His gifts with joy. 
That is why Aandal, having vowed abstinence at the beginning of Margazhi, now breaks her fast. She offers one hundred vessels of butter and akkarai vadisal to the Lord. This tradition continues as Tadha Utsavam in Vaishnavite temples.
Listening to discourses onThiruppavai everyday  has brought out a new facet, a nuance or truth of Bhakti
Today, as I prepared akkarai vadisal , I smiled.
The sweetness of the prasadam, the rhythm of Aandaal’s words, and the awareness of Krishna’s presence came together effortlessly. From Mumbai to Delhi, from temple corridors to my kitchen, the spirit remained the same.
Religion and spirituality are ultimately states of mind  meant to lift us above our baser instincts and bring us closer to compassion, gratitude, and joy.
Hinduism offers many paths to salvation, Jnana (knowledge), Bhakti (devotion), Karma (duty), Vairagya (surrender).
We are free to choose our path or sometimes, as Aandal shows us, the path chooses us.
Koodaarai Vellum celebrates the moment when effort blossoms into grace, when discipline ripens into delight, and when devotion finds its fulfilment in togetherness and sweetness.
As we celebrated Sankranti and Hurda Party this year in Delhi  sharing grain, warmth, and joy,  the message of Aandaal’s 27th Paasuram feels especially alive: Come together, sing His glories, and let sweetness flow.
With blessings of Narayana and Govinda, the heart lacks nothing.
Koodaarai Vellum teaches us that true bhakti ripens into sweetness and when we gather to sing His name, grace overflows. 

R.Vimala, IAS,  

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra  & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

“When Knocking Ends and Grace Begins: Pasuram 25 of Thiruppaavai”

“When Knocking Ends and Grace Begins: Pasuram 25 of Thiruppaavai”

Aandaal's twenty-fifth Paasuram brings out the uniqueness of Devaki and Yashoda. It takes us from to Mathura to Gokulam as she talks about his birth to Devaki and upbringing by Yashoda. She also talks about Kamsa's fears and his futile attempts to destroy Krishna making Him Supreme. As a devotee she therefore slowly moves from asking things to God to suurendering themselves fully to Him.
Andaal imagery in the 25th Paasuram without mentioning names is brilliant as she refers to Devaki as "Orutthi maganaai pirandhu" born to one and brought up by another, "iravil orutthi maganaai oḷittu vaḷara" that is Yashoda.
To her Devaki is unqiue, 'Orutthi' , who gave birth to Krishna in the dead of night. She does not even name her, because “Everyone knows this great mother, a name is not needed.” Devaki symbolises sacrifice, because despite giving birth to Krishna she lets him go for his safety. She accepts the pain of separation only for the sake of love, telling us that devotion is not just joy at times it is also means the courage to let go of what we love most, trusting that Bhagavan has a better plan in store.
In the next line, she says Krishna was secretly brought up as the son of “another unique woman.” This is Yashoda and once again she does not use the name. The metaphors used by her are more important as Yashoda represents the sweet, homely side of bhakti. She gets to live with him, feed him, scold him, chase him, hug him all the simple joys that any mother wants from her child. 
Here  Aandal portrays a devotee who is able to enjoy  God’s closeness in everyday life whether in the kitchen,  courtyard and in small, ordinary moments that become divine because He is there.
So Devaki and Yashoda show two sides of love, one is  sacrifice and the other, enjoyment and both are dear to Krishna.
The third image is of Kamsa, the cruel king who is terrified of losing his power. For him, Krishna is not joy but a threat. She  says that Krishna stayed like a fire in Kamsa’s stomach, burning his peace from inside. "Tharikkilaanaagiththaan theengu ninaindha"
Kamsa symbolises the ego in us, which knows the truth but refuses to accept it and lives in constant fear.  The more Kamsa tries to destroy Krishna, the more restless he becomes, until the very presence of the Lord inside his thoughts becomes a fire that finishes him.
Aandal tells us this story of Kamsa, a bad king showing what happens to us when we fight against God, dharma, or against our own conscience. Krishna then becomes a fire that will not let that wicked Kamsa rest. "Karuththai pizhai piththu Kansan vayitRil"
In this paasuram Krishna is a combination of a helpless baby born in the middle of the night, who is carried to Gokulam like a secret child. He grows up as a simple cowherd boy in a village and destroys Kamsa like a hidden fire.
Aandaal's genius portrays the same child as the Lord who protects the whole world and burns down evil from inside. The same Krishna who lies in a cradle also stands unseen in Kamsa’s heart, shaking his kingdom.
The 'Parai' of  gopis and Aaṇḍaal transforms from seeking material goods to seeking kindness by singing Krishna’s glory. Ariththiththu vandhOm paRai tharudhiyaagil"
Aandaal’s desire becomes more clear now,  Dont “Give us things,” but “Give us you.”  "Dont make my life comfortable,” but “Let my life be an instrument in your hands.”
This is where she rises above merely singing praises, she is placing herself before him and asking for Sharaṇaagati,  complete surrender. Thiruththaka selvamum sEvagamum yAmpaadi"
Pāsuram 25 is not only a memory of a night in Mathura and a village in Gokulam. It is a picture of what happens inside a devotee’s own heart, the inner darkness, the birth of faith, the burning of inner Kamsa, giving up and finally the quiet, sweet decision to surrender and live only for him. "Varuththamum theerndhu magzhilndhElor embaavaay"


Oruththi maganaay ppiRandhu Oriravil
Oruththi maganaay oLiththu vaLara
Tharikkilaanaagiththaan theengu ninaindha
Karuththai pizhai piththu Kansan vayitRil
Neruppenna ninRa nedumaalE unnai
Ariththiththu vandhOm paRai tharudhiyaagil
Thiruththaka selvamum sEvagamum yAmpaadi
Varuththamum theerndhu magzhilndhElor embaavaay

Andaal Thiruvadigale Sharanam...

R.Vimala,  IAS,  

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Sankranti: One Sun, Many Songs & Tilgud Ghya Goad Goad Bola

Sankranti: One Sun, Many Songs & Tilgud Ghya Goad Goad Bola

India is vibrant with culture and traditions but what makes it unique is the wonderful festivals celebrated in all parts of the country. Sankranti is among the most vibrant of them all. This festival  not only marks the Sun’s northward journey, but is also a beautiful collage of lived moments, music, dance, cuisines and emotions gathered from different corners of India. This harvest festival beautifully reflects the greatness of India and it's unity in diversity.

Wherever we may be, Sankranti arrives with the same message,  be grateful, give thanks, and celebrate the abundance of the land. Each region expresses this gratitude in its own language, yet the emotion remains the same. 

Being a Tamilian, my earliest Sankranti memories are  connected to Pongal. I still  remember waking up to the excitement at home in the railway colony where we lived.  The huge courtyard would be cleaned and decorated with beautiful kolams, rangoli made by our mother. The Pongal would be made in the adorned 'Ponga Paanai' shiny brass vessel in which the milk would be set to boil. As children, we waited eagerly for the moment when the milk boiled over and then chant “Pongalo Pongal!” in unison,  a sound that warms my heart till today. We would then set the table with the Pongal prasadam, sugarcane, fruits, beetle nut leaves , turmeric and kumkum for Surya Bhagawan or Sun God.  At that age, I may not have fully understood it's symbolism, but instinctively, I knew this was a moment of joy and gratitude. 

I realise now that Pongal taught me my first lessons in community living and respect for nature.

In Maharashtra, Sankranti takes on an earthy, rustic charm through Tilgud distribution, sweets made from til ( sesame )  and gud, ( jaggery) as they are the best combination for winter. Wearing of black clothes by the ladies also symbolises being prepared for the cold. Added to it are the Hurda Parties where fresh green jowar, harbhara roasted over open fire, eaten with bhakri, chutneys , sugarcane  juice.

A Hurda party means sitting together in open fields in front of a bonfire , warming oneself and savoring hurda , roasted grains even as one chatted and laughed. It  connected us to the farmer, to the land, to one another and is therefore close to my heart.  

Travel to Assam and Sankranti becomes Magh Bihu celebrated with youthful energy. Feasts, bonfires and the vibrant Bihu dance transform gratitude into movement.

The beats of the dhol, the swift footwork and the smiles of Bihu makes one feel that the land itself is dancing in happiness after a good harvest. The joy is so contagious that one cannot remain a spectator while watching and automatically begins to dance.

Gujarat, celebrates Sankranti with colourful kites which beautify the blue sky. Patang Utsav becomes a meeting point where  strangers become teammates while flying kites. As kites soar, so do their spirits. There is competition, laughter, and celebration all rolled into one. Kite-flying during Sankranti  teaches us to look up, to dream and to remain connected through a single thread.

In Punjab, Sankranti is celebrated as Lohri around a bonfire into which offerings of peanuts and revri are made.  The Bhangra and Gidda dances electrify  the atmosphere with energy and unfiltered joy. 

Standing around the fire, clapping hands to the beats adds warmth to the celebration. Lohri reflects resilience, gratitude, and the fearless spirit of the Punjabis who are deeply rooted in their land.

Each of the above celebrations makes clear the fact our festivals may have different names, flavours, and rhythms, but their soul is the same. Sankranti ,Pongal, Lohri, Bihu, Uttarayan is India’s collective thank you to the Sun, the Earth and the hands that till the soil.

This is the greatness of Indian diversity that does not divide, but enriches us as a civilization where gratitude binds us more  strongly than any boundary ever could.

Taking this message forward, Sankranti and the traditional Hurda Festival will be celebrated at Maharashtra Sadan,  Kasturba Gandhi Marg from ninth to eleventh January. Delhi will experience rural Maharashtra through food, culture, music and dance reminding us that our roots remain agricultural and our values deeply traditional even though we may live in cities. 

So let's savour the seeds of our unity in the festival of harvest. As the sun moves northward, may it light up not just our skies, but our hearts with gratitude for the great land that sustains us all. 

Delhites, please join us in this celebration of harvest, heritage and harmony. Let's come together to spread sweetness and say , "Tilgud ghya , goad goad bola..."

R.Vimala,  IAS,  

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay 

Time: A Year Gone By, A Year Beckoning

Time: A Year Gone By, A Year Beckoning
On the 31st of December, one year quietly slipped into history, no farewell speeches, no dramatic exit. And here we stand, on the threshold of a brand-new year, with 365 fresh days stretched out before us like an unwritten map.
And ,now comes the uncomfortable question: what exactly are we planning to draw on it?
A masterpiece or another doodle we pretend not to notice?
Most of us probably welcomed the year in grand style. There was music, laughter, food that ignored calorie counts, drinks that  encouraged optimism, and the ritualistic countdown. Ten, nine, eight… three, two, one! Cheers, hugs, fireworks, wishes, hope.
And then silently the seconds have started ticking again.
But wait… hadn’t they been ticking all along last year too?
A mild discomfort may probably set in if we look back honestly. Many of us may realise that weeks, months and entire seasons slipped past while we were busy being “very busy” without actually achieving much.
Time, after all, is the only resource that comes with no rewind, no exchange policy, and no second chances. Lose a moment and it’s gone for good.
Yet, how sincerely do we respect time?
We say we are  “saving” time while simultaneously “killing” it.
We claim we have all the time in the world until suddenly we don’t have even five minutes.
We complain about time moving too fast, but behave as though it’s on permanent standby.
Am I being a spoiler through this alert?
Friends, time is stubborn. It doesn’t wait for our mood, motivation or Monday mornings. As we were taught in school, “Time and tide wait for no man.”  Ironically, despite knowing this, time remains the most neglected asset in our lives.
We postpone the important stuff, health check-ups, family conversations, personal growth, long-held dreams confident that “tomorrow” is a guaranteed appointment. Saint Kabir tried to save us from this illusion centuries ago:
“Kaal kare so aaj kar,
Aaj kare so ab…”
Do tomorrow’s work today. Do today’s work now because life doesn’t send reminders.
Of course, some creative souls rewrote Kabir’s wisdom into,  "Aaj kare so kal kar, kal kare so parson…"  apparently under the assumption that time has unlimited patience and a soft corner for procrastinators.
No, It certainly doesn’t.
I still remember a powerful session on time management by the then Director of LBSNAA, Shri Sanjeev Chopra, who summed it up beautifully: manage time well, and you will  find room not just for responsibility, but also for joy. Planning doesn’t restrict life, it actually gives it breathing space. Regret, as it turns out, is simply unused time returning to haunt us.
Stephen Covey put it perfectly:
“The key is not in spending time, but in investing it.” When we invest time, we give it meaning. We attach it to growth, purpose, and fulfillment. And perhaps that’s why time feels so fast because it doesn’t linger where it isn’t valued.
It feels like just yesterday we were young. Just yesterday our children were racing through the house, scribbling on walls, spilling water and filling our lives with fun-filled joy. Today, we have grown and so have they. Time moved swiftly, silently, without asking for permission.
The future, after all, is something everyone reaches at the reliable speed of 60 minutes an hour.
So as this year unfolds, let’s try something radical: notice time. Catch the pulse of each second. Live consciously. Act courageously. Contribute meaningfully. Let this year not merely pass let it stand for something.
Now for the real question:
When you reach December 31st this year, what is the one thing you want to be proud of?
Don’t just think it write it down. Not in your head, not on “mental notes,” but on actual paper. Let today be the day you stop negotiating with time and start leading it.
And one last challenge:
What is that one thing you’ve been postponing for “tomorrow” that you will do today? A phone call. A health check. A single page of a book. A long-delayed beginning.
So as this year unfolds, let’s try something radical, let’s notice time. Let’s catch the pulse of each second, live consciously, act courageously and contribute meaningfully to the world around us. Let this year not merely pass, but stand for something. When you look back on December 31st, may you smile knowing you didn’t just count days, you made them count.
Here’s wishing you a New Year where time is not just spent, but well invested. 

R.Vimala,  IAS, 

Resident Commissioner & Secretary, 

Government of Maharashtra & 

PhD Scholar at IIT Bombay