कृत्स्नं व्याकरणं प्रोक्तं तस्मै पाणिनये नमः

I've just enjoyed a cup of magical black coffee from the dasaprakash hotel, brought to me in my room where I sit at the beautiful desk. A short, scruffy, older gentleman--truly--short a few teeth and perhaps a little wit brought it to me as I read the Times of India.
The immediate work of establishing myself here seems to me to be progressing quite fine. After meeting at the Central Institute of Indian Languages (CIIL) yesterday, I have worked out five hours a week of Kannada instruction with three teachers who will rotate days and focus on different aspects of the language.
"Naanu yaaru?" Who am I?
My brother, Chris, once formulated a similar question on the streets of Varanasi. Questions like this have been posed by intellectual and spiritual greats throughout history, with various answers given and methods prescribed. The most recent installment of the same old question came up in my first Kannada lesson with Shree Vijaylakshmi of the CIIL.
"Naanu yaaru?" I asked.
She replied, "Niivu yaaru? No, I am sorry. What is your name?"
To which I replied, "Naanu Ralph." I am Ralph. And thus began what I am sure will be one of the greatest recent challenges in my life, the Kannada language.
I will report to the CIIL 11 O'clock daily Monday-Friday for about one hour of Kannada instruction with rotating teachers, as I mentioned earlier. Each will stress a particular aspect of the language: Speaking, reading, and writing; one, as well, Dr. Talvar, will slowly expose me to classical Kannada styles as my time here progresses. His specialization is in 13th-16th century Kannada literature.
Over the course of six months, I should develop a solid foundation for further years of Kannada study, which is what I am hopeful for.
Today will be my first day of Sanskrit instruction with Dr. Nagaraja Rao; I admit, however, that I don't know quite how to prepare for the hour I will spend with him studying the aShThadhyayiibhaaShyaprathamaavRttih, or, as I understand the title from the first glance: The first edition/installment/inclination of that which is to be said concerning the Eight Chapters. The "Eight Chapters" here refers to the traditional book of Sanskrit grammar, the Ashtadhyayi, composed by Panini 400-300 years B.C.E.
Is it not incredible that four solid years after beginniong the study of a language I am again like a child in the face of this new intellectual genre of grammar? I shouldn't say a child, I guess, as I do have some sense of Panini--I studied his text for about eight months in Pune, Maharashtra; however, crores of people have spent their lives in an attempt to understand Panini. This book promises easy comprehension of an approach to language very different from our contemporary Western linguistic's approaches. In short, this study, too, promises to be a new beginning.
Dr. Rao and I will meet for five hours a week and we will rotate subject matter between vyakaranam (grammar), kavyashastram (poetic science), and kavya (poetry). Each subject, or text, will reinforce and synergize the contents of the others. This week I'll memorize some 41 or so sutras relating to the 14 sutras of Shiva--a seemingly unintelligible collection of sounds: a-i-u-N. ru-lruk. e-ong. ai-ouch. ha-yavarat. lan. jna-ma-nga-Na-nam. jha-bhang. gha-Dha-dha-Sh... etc. Out of these 14 sutras, the entire grammar of Sanskrit, to this date the most complex and concise the world has ever known, emerges as, traditionally understood, a gift from the god Shiva, who also seems to be providing me with housing in Mysore. I just got off the phone with him.