India's Soothing Summer Drink: Bael Sherbet

Bael Sherbet:

India's Soothing Summer Drink 

Summer scorches but compensates with many savoury fruits – mango, watermelon, muskmelon, lychee, and the humble bael; the last one is not a table fruit and demands a little work before it can be savoured. Bael fruit has much nutritional and medicinal value.[i]


(Image Source: Wikimedia Commons)

Recently, I bought from Bittan Market a big ripe bael for eighty rupees. Broke the shell, scooped out the soft kernel with a spoon, soaked it in a bowl with two glasses of water. After a while, kneaded the stuff, used a sieve to separate the seeds, rind, strings, and collected the thick pulp, enough to make eight glasses of sherbet. Put a few spoons of pulp in a glass, added a little more water, black salt, ground pepper, roasted ground jeera, and crushed cardamoms. No sugar, jaggery, or honey; best to savour the gift of nature without extra sugar. Put it in deep freezer for 15 mins. Garnished it with pudina leaves from my terrace pot. Result: a cooling, refreshing, delicious summer drink with loads of health benefits.

Whenever I see bael, it brings in a rush of memories of childhood in my little village in western Odisha where upon a private fallow land across our school stood a well-grown tree that bore a luxuriant crop every year, and was available to all since the land-owner took only a few and left the remaining fruits for others. We saw the green fruits grow bigger and turn yellow with patches of brown as they ripened soaking in the hot sun and cooking the pulp ever so slowly to perfection, a shining golden hue with an appetising aroma and the taste of nature-packed herbal candy.

My classmates - Gurudev Kumar, Shankarshan Majhi, and Mahadev Podh – all a few years older than me and more knowledgeable about matters seldom waited for the fruit to ripen and drop. They fetched a long bamboo pole with a hook and yanked off a few mature ones, kindled a fire and roasted the fruits. When done, the fruits burst like crackers and the roasted pulp was scooped out with a piece of the shell. It was amazingly delicious.

Much, much later did I learn that Ayurveda has been using since ancient times every part of the bael tree as medicine; the fruit to treat contrarian ailments – the unripe fruit for diarrhoea and dysentery, and the ripe fruit for constipation.

But who were the anonymous master strategists who smartly assigned ‘sacred’ status to the bael tree, declaring it Lord Shiva’s favourite to ensure well-being of the devotees and immortality for this medicinal tree?** The same wise masters who elevated Tulasi, a humble wild grass (‘Tulsi Tulsi sab kahen Tulsi van ka ghas, ho gayee kirpa Ram ki ban gaya Tulsidas’) to a goddess, to be revered in every house and worshipped thrice daily (tri-sandhya)? Who ordained that Lakshmi is pleased when offered the majestic lotus, the flower available only if abundant, healthy ponds and lakes are nurtured?

But they did not rest after such smart sacred alignment. They composed hymns in praise of these precious trees and plants – Bilvastakam, Bilva Upanishad, Tulasi Stotram, Tulasi Upanishad, Padma Purana (the lotus emerged from the navel of Lord Vishnu), and many others.

Bilvastakam*

Bilvastakam (Praise of Bilva Tree in Eight Stanzas), a Sanskrit stotra, is unique in many respects. It is not in praise of Shiva, but a paean to the sacred bilva tree.  It recommends for the devotee a very simple, zero-cost method of worshipping Shiva.

Aegle marmelos, commonly known as bael, bil, stone apple, wood apple is a species of tree native to the Indian subcontinent and Southeast Asia.

What does the stotra say in praise of the tree?

In the sacred Bilva tree resides the Trinity – Brahma in its root, Vishnu at its centre (trunk), and Shiva at the top; it is born with Lakshmi’s blessings (literally, a produce of Mother Earth), and is dear to Shiva.

Mere darshan (sighting) and/or sparsh (touching) of this sacred tree extinguishes all sins, and offering a stem with three bilva leaves (bael leaves are trifoliate) to Shiva extinguishes even the most heinous sins.

An offering of a bael stem with three leaves - symbolising the three gunas that constitute the universe (Satva, Rajas, and Tamas), the three-eyed Lord Shiva, and his trishul (trident) with three spear-heads – extinguishes the sins of three lives, the past, the present, and the future.

Religious merit acquired through offering a stem of bael leaves to Shiva is equivalent to

·      gifting Shaligram to numerous Vipras (brahmins), or the great merit derived from performing Soma Yagya;

·      gifting a thousand Dantikoti (tusker elephants), a hundred Vajapeya (a special yagya), and a million Kanya-dana (offering the hands of a daughter in marriage, considered a maha-dana, or a great gift);

·      permanent residence in Kashi kshetra with daily darshan of Kala Bhairaba, or darshan of Madhava (Vishnu) at Prayag.

Lastly, the stotra mentions, as required by convention, the phalashruti or the benefits that accrue from recitation of this stotra. Recitation of this sacred Bilvastaka before Shiva extinguishes all sins, and the devotee is transported to Shiva Loka.

Adi Shakara, who composed this stotra was a gifted poet, and the use of hyperbole as a poetic device in this composition was deliberate. The poet’s intent is to assure the devout that piety is not earned through elaborate rituals (fasts, vratas, yagyas), or by giving expensive gifts to the gods or to the priests and brahmins. Simple and sincere devotion suffices to receive divine benediction.

***

*Some sources (Shlokam.org, sanskritdocuments.org) attribute Bilvastakam to Adi Shankaracharya; but others (Shankaracharya.org, Shri Kanchi Kamakoti Peetham) do not list this stotra as one composed by the Saint-Poet. Also, there are different versions of this stotra, one with eight stanzas which makes it an ashtakam, and another with 14 stanzas!

Renditions of this stotra by Madhavi Madhukar Jha, Ramesh Bhai Ojha, and others are available in You Tube.

**Bael tree is also called Kalpavriksha, and its fruit Sriphal. Some believe that the 'Sri' in SriShailam,one of the Dvadasha Jyotirlingas, refers to the abundance of bael trees on the mountain.



[i] A summary of the many nutritional and medicinal values of bael is available at:  Production_Protection_and_Processing_of_Bael.pdf (icar.gov.in)

Buddha and the Conquest of Death

Buddha and the Conquest of Death

Kisagotami

When her only child died, the mother was distraught, disconsolate, and disoriented. She refused to accept that her child was no more. He is very ill, exhausted, and in deep sleep, she insisted. With the dead child in her arms, she moved from village to village in search of the vaid who would administer a magic potion to awaken her child from stupor. Hearing that Buddha had miraculous powers, she appeared before the Enlightened One.

‘O Divine One, please cure my child. Awaken him, for he has not sucked by breast for several days. He must be very hungry.’

Buddha, the Compassionate One, gently caressed the child’s forehead. He did not say the child was dead or chide her for being mad with grief but said, ‘Sure. I can cure him. For the medicine, fetch a few grains of mustard seed from a home where no one has ever died.’

The mother went from village to village and from house to house and soon returned to place her son’s corpse under the Buddha’s feet. She realised that Buddha had gently led her to find for herself the truth about life and death. Kisagotami became a bhikkhuni.

Therigatha

Therigatha: Poems of the First Buddhist Women has a poem where Kisagotami sings about her enlightenment:

“One should know suffering,

The origin of suffering and its cessation,

The eight-fold path….

I followed the noble eightfold path

That goes to that which is without death,

Nibbana is known at first hand.

I have seen myself in the mirror of dhamma.”[i]

 

Link for my previous blog on Therigatha is given in end notes.[ii]

When Siddhartha Gautam was conceived, his mother Queen Mahamaya had seen in her dream a luminous white elephant. The omen indicated that the prince would either become a Chakravarty Emperor or renounce the world, said the royal astrologers. The king was advised to shelter Siddhartha from awareness of human sufferings – disease, decrepitude of old age, and death. The gated-life of the prince in the palace hid the reality of the human situation only for some time.


Buddha Sculpture- 9th to 10th Century AD

Source: WikiCommons; ASI Museum, Bodh Gaya

Humans are the only animals aware of death and tormented with thoughts of morbidity. All religions endeavour to provide solace against the inevitability and finality of death.

Dhammapada

Dhammapada, a compilation of 423 maxims culled mostly from Sutta-Pitaka, is a reverred book for the Buddhists. A few verses from the book, relating to life and death, are given below (Source-The Dhammapada: The Buddha's Path of Wisdom translated by Acharya Buddharakkhita):

“There are those who do not realize that one day we all must die. But those who do realize this settle their quarrels.” (Chapter.Verse: 1.6)

“Better it is to live one day virtuous and meditative than to live a hundred years immoral and uncontrolled.” 8.110

“Better it is to live one day wise and meditative than to live a hundred years foolish and uncontrolled.” 8.111

“Better it is to live one day strenuous and resolute than to live a hundred years sluggish and dissipated.” 8.112

“Better it is to live one day seeing the rise and fall of things than to live a hundred years without seeing the rise and fall of things.” 8.113

“Better it is to live one day seeing the Deathless than to live a hundred years without ever seeing the Deathless.” 8.114

“Better it is to live one day seeing the Supreme Truth than to live a hundred years without ever seeing the Supreme Truth.” 8.115

“This city (body) is built of bones, plastered with flesh and blood; within are decay and death, pride and jealousy.” 11.150

Finally,

“You yourselves must strive; the Buddhas only point the way….” 20.276

Buddha pointed the way; Kisagotami gained enlightenment.



[i] Extracts from the poem are from Therigatha: Poems of the First Buddhist Women, translated by Charles Hallisey, Murty Classical Library of India.

[ii] https://pkdash-author.blogspot.com/2023/11/therigatha.html

National Anthem at Dublin

 National Anthem at Dublin

Caroline, the elderly, knowledgeable and affable guide began the city tour of Dublin by taking the Indian guests to St. Stephen’s Green, not to a random area of the 27-acre sculpted Victorian park, but to the zone where the bust of Tagore could be seen minutes after entry. She possibly led local or English tourists to the ‘Great Famine’ sculpture instead. Customised tour for tourists!

India had named in 2007 a street at Chanakya Puri, New Delhi after Eamon de Valera, Ireland’s beloved revolutionary leader who was Prime Minister for 21 years, and President for 14 years. Tagore Bust at St. Stephen’s Green Park had been installed in 2011 as a reciprocal gesture.

Rabindranath Tagore had visited England and Ireland in 1912 and had met among other leading literary figures W.B. Yeats who was instrumental in introducing Tagore to Europe and the world. In his effusive ‘Introduction’ to the prose translation of Gitanjali (Song Offerings) by Tagore himself, Yeats had said,

“I have carried the manuscript of these translations about with me for days, reading it in railway trains, or on the top of omnibuses and in restaurants, and I have often had to close it lest some stranger would see how much it moved me.”

Yeats had ended his introduction with what Tagore had said about children: “They build their houses with sand and they play with empty shells. With withered leaves they weave their boats and smilingly float them on the vast deep. Children have their play on the seashore of worlds. They know not how to swim, they know not how to cast nets. Pearl fishers dive for pearls, merchants sail in their ships, while children gather pebbles and scatter them again. They seek not for hidden treasures, they know not how to cast nets.”[i]

Yeats had quoted from Song 60 of Gitanjali, though ‘Where the Mind is Without Fear’ (Song 35), is possibly more well-known.

Tagore was the first non-European to win the Nobel for literature in 1913. Yeats won the Nobel in 1923.

When like all eager tourists most of the group scattered at once and rushed ahead to select their favourite spots for selfie, couple, or family photos; Caroline gently beckoned the group, with the quiet efficiency of a kindly, veteran school teacher, to assemble near the Tagore Bust for a group photograph. Lo and behold, everyone gathered there in a minute, and she happily clicked the photo to be shared with the group.

Before the assembly could disperse for ad hoc exploration of the park, she mentioned ever so gently and with a charming smile: Many Indian groups have sung the National Anthem here. That was the little nudge that led the holidayers to stand to attention and sing the National Anthem at 9.30 AM on a cloudy and slightly chilly spring morning. They did not sing in sync, some finished earlier and others later than the 52 seconds mandated for correct singing of the full anthem; but the near-spontaneous act of patriotism on foreign soil was the icing on top of their holiday cake.

Tagore had written Jana Gana Mana on 11 December 1911, coronation of King George V was held at Delhi Durbar on 12 December 1911, and the song had been sung for the first time at the Indian National Congress Annual Meet at Calcutta on 27 December 1911 by Sarala Devi Chowdhurani, the poet’s niece. Tagore, in a letter to Pulin Bihari Sen in 1938 had rubbished the misconception that he had written the song for George V for the King’s Delhi Coronation in 1911:

‘…. I pronounced the victory in Jana Gana Mana of that Bhagya Vidhata [ed. God of Destiny] of India who has from age after age held steadfast the reins of India's chariot through rise and fall, through the straight path and the curved. That Lord of Destiny, that Reader of the Collective Mind of India, that Perennial Guide, could never be George V, George VI, or any other George….’[ii]

Jana Gana Mana was composed by Tagore in five stanzas of which the first stanza was adopted as India’s National Anthem. The full text of the original song along with English translation is available at lyricsdna.com.

A few days earlier, the same group of tourists had visited the Parliament Square at London, and several members had clicked a few photos of self or family with the statue of Mahatma Gandhi in the background; but there was no Caroline to herd them in front of Gandhi to sing the National Anthem!

Why did your PM resign, asked a tourist? Leo Varadkar had resigned on 20 March 2024.

‘He was an efficient Prime Minister, deftly managed the pandemic crisis, and even was available for consultation to the public in his capacity as a General Practitioner. He was candid about his resignation, “I am a little tired, and no longer able to achieve what I think is achievable and necessary for our country. It’s best that I resign.”

He is honest and frank, and we love that about him. He is gay and came out on National TV even before same-sex marriage was legalised. You might be aware that Oscar Wilde, a famous Dubliner was jailed for homosexuality.’

The guide did not mention that Leo had resigned owing to his party’s defeat in a national referendum on two policy reform issues pertaining to the definition of family and the role of women. Why bother the holidayers with boring domestic politics?

Leo Varadkar, son of an Indian doctor and an Irish nurse, became Ireland’s youngest Prime Minister in June 2017. That was before Kamala Harris became Vice President of the US in 2021, and Rishi Sunak the PM of UK in 2022!

Responding to his election as party leader, Varadkar had said,

‘I know when my father travelled 5,000 miles to build a new home in Ireland, I doubt that he ever dreamed that one day his son would grow up to be its leader and despite his differences, his son would be judged by his actions not his identity….Every proud parent in Ireland today can dream big dreams for their children.’[iii]

Ireland is among the countries with a high percentage of immigrant population (18%).

Earlier, as Minister for Transport, Tourism and Sport, ‘he oversaw “the Gathering,” a nationwide initiative in 2013 to revive tourism in Ireland with the staging of some 5,000 special events celebrating Irish culture and aimed at attracting members of the global Irish diaspora and other visitors to Ireland. During Varadkar’s ministerial tenure, the number of international visitors to Ireland increased by about one million per year.’

In the afternoon, on way to Guinness, someone asked Caroline, ‘Is Scotch superior to Irish whiskey?’

No way. We invented whiskey. In fact, the word whiskey derives from Old Irish words uisce (water) and bethu (life) meaning ‘water of life.’

Isn’t Scotland the largest exporter of whiskey in the world?

So what, that doesn’t make Scotch better? Which is your favourite whiskey, she asked? The curious one was a teetotaller!

At Guinness you’d learn all about the origin of whiskey and also sample the famed Guinness beer. Later at Grafton Street, you may buy a coffee at Butlers, the most famous chocolatier of Ireland, established in 1932, for a complimentary cube of Irish whiskey chocolate to pair with your coffee.

***

Comments

Dev Vardhan, my friend who lives in Chicago

Very well written blog, PK!  It was especially interesting for me, given I visit Dublin every three months for work and actually stay at the Shelbourne hotel, right next to St Stephen’s green. I have gone for walks/jogs at St Stephen’s green many time but missed Tagore’s statue. I’ll make sure I find it the next time I am in Dublin. So, glad you are pursuing your passion for writing!

My Reply

Thanks, Dev. I'm glad you liked it. You may have spotted in that park the memorial to the Great Potato Famine. Sadly, our itinerary didn't include that. I've seen it virtually, though.

[iii] Encyclopaedia Britannica

Captain Adrian

 Captain Adrian

For the 44 Indians on a 13-day UK-Ireland Group Tour the Tour Operator had hired a 55-seater Mercedes Benz piloted by two Coach Captains - Mr Craig for the London-Manchester leg, and Mr Gibbons for the remainder of the trip - who were as different as apple from coconut. Craig welcomed each guest including the kids with a smile and his signature greeting: Good Morning, don’t enter my coach without a smile. Keep smiling all through the day, that’s the best way to make the most of your holiday.

Very sensible advice. Why feel grouchy about trifling matters like the unpredictable English weather, CC’s strict punctuality and ‘No food inside the coach’ rules, and spoil the holiday mood?

Adrian Gibbons was nearly seven feet tall with the solid build of a star footballer, large tattoos on both his forearms, a bald head, and an inscrutable face that revealed little about what was going on in his mind. He could have been a fearsome bouncer before he became a Coach Captain. If one were to see this frowning bull-dozer of a man approaching on a lonely street, a most natural response would be to quickly step aside or even better, turn back and run.

He spoke little, smiled less, and even the Tour Manger (Jayesh Mhatre, a Marathi manus from Mumbai) despite his 25 years of experience of European Group Tours struggled to make sense of his brief, matter-of-fact, business-like announcements in a heavy Welsh accent. Adrian opened his mouth on a strict need-to-speak basis, focused on his driving, and was an excellent driver.

‘Reaching in five minutes, Dublin Sea Point Beach, our last photo-stop for the day,’ announced the Tour Manager.

After a visit to the sprawling and sombre Titanic Museum at Belfast, the tourists had driven for more than two hours through rain to reach Dublin in the evening.

‘Please hurry. No coach is allowed to stop here but Coach Captain has made an exception owing to the bad weather.

There is a light drizzle and a strong wind, so please take your umbrellas and raincoats. Those who do not wish to get down may stay in the bus which will wait in the Parking Lot and return at the assigned time to pick up those who got down. Halt here is for 20 minutes only, enough time to click a few photos.’

The weather was rather nasty, not unusual for spring in Dublin. The sky was a darkening grey, the wind whistled menacingly, tall waves crashed angrily on the concrete blocks dumped on the shoreline to prevent the sea from devouring the promenade. The beach front was forlorn except for the determined few of this group of Indian holidayers who wanted full value for their money. Stepping out of the bus they unfurled their umbrellas and the skimpy, portable Chinese umbrellas immediately turned turtle. The poor visibility did not deter the determined photo-shooters including the bubbly couple with the selfie-stick, but they got only hazy shots.

Before the bus could drive off to the Parking Lot, the few tourists who had stepped down got a little soaked and hurried back to the bus. A senior-citizen couple at a little distance was also returning to the bus. The Coach Captain, usually reticent, spoke agitatedly, ‘Please hurry. I am not permitted to stop here.’ He had already risked a parking ticket. There was no policeman, but the cameras were at their job.

Tour Manager hailed the couple to hurry and board the bus. The rather brief stop much upset a gentleman in his forties who spoke sharply to the Tour Manager,

‘What non-sense is this, why are you asking us to hurry back? Didn’t you say this stop was for 20 minutes? Why change the plan?’

‘Sir, I did NOT change the plan. All who had got down returned immediately owing to the bad weather. Should you and your family wish to enjoy a further stroll on the sea-front, you are most welcome; the coach would wait at the Parking Lot and pick you back at the agreed time. All the Coach Captain is saying is that he cannot park HERE.’

The gentleman was infuriated. The visit to the Titanic Museum at Belfast earlier in the day, the long drive from Belfast to Dublin through rain and haze, and the gloomy weather could have had something to do with the tourist’s irascibility. Maybe, he was yet to get over the shock from losing all his credit cards and cash on Day 1 of the trip. While he merrily shot photos of his wife and daughter in front of the crowded Buckingham Palace, his wife had been quietly relieved of her purse by a pickpocket.

He raised his voice a pitch higher, and further harangued the Tour Manager. A few bitter remarks were exchanged. Since the gentleman and the Tour Manager were still standing, the Coach Captain could not drive the coach.

‘Please be seated,’ requested the hapless Tour Manager, but the gentleman seemed determined not to take his seat till the TM’s explanation along with apology was to his satisfaction. He stood near his seat at the back of the coach and gesticulated at the TM upon which the latter rushed towards the tourist, whether to get him to take his seat or to engage in a fist-fight was not clear.

Before TM could reach the gentleman tourist, the coach reverberated with a stern, stentorian voice not unlike a heavy metal ball being dragged on an uneven stony surface and the tourists found the front of the bus filled with the towering frame of Adrian Gibbons, looking like an alpha gorilla male thumping his chest.

‘I am the Coach Captain, and I won’t permit any nasty occurrence in my coach. Gentleman at the back, please take your seat. Tour Manager, please return to your seat. Fasten your seat-belts since I am driving off in a minute.’

Gibbon’s thunderous command had been so effective that no one opened their mouths again except to eat the buffet dinner at the designated Indian restaurant later in the evening.

The minor mutiny had been quelled with an iron hand by Adrian, Coach Captain and Boss, and for this once no Indian resented the foreign hand!

***

 

 

 

 

Mahua Mahotsav

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