Tapan Das
(Translated from the original Assamese story ‘Prachin Thumri’ by Stuti Goswami)
I have often seen your car speed away, especially on holidays-- shredding the city’s melancholic dusk… or some stifling evening. Your glitzy cars sprinkle on the passers-by the fragrance of being ‘freshly bought'...
Sometimes I grow perplexed counting your cars. So many of them… so many colours, models, shapes, sizes , curves; different companies, different names. Cars—royale, official, personal…
If the interiors of a car is elegant like somebody’s drawing-room, that of another is intricate… for you at least it is. Still, you are accustomed to them all. If one has a classical recital playing on its radio, another has a cricket commentary. You might as well watch some movie or a popular music video. And you are in love with all this …at least its better than listening to the evening news.
Nowhere does your demeanour betray your irritation, your unease. You might find on the seat an empty tiffin box with pictures of Tintin or Shaktimaan. On other days, you’d find Salman Rushdie, J.K.Rowling, Stephen Hawking, One Hundred Years of Solitude or ‘Darjeeling Jamjamaat’. Income Tax, Service Tax files are also there; as are ‘Motor Cycle Diaries’—Che Guevera, ‘Debonair’ or even recent posters of cds-films-theatres. Ramdevji’s Yoga Magazines, newspapers beaming headlines of insurgent activities or student agitations, ‘India Today’, the unruffled cover of a poetry anthology—you flip through all these. Nowhere does your countenance betray the slightest emotion. It is as though you do not think at all, as though you were a motionless unflickering lamp.
Today as well I saw your car; it was hued in bright silver. As the last rays of the setting sun rolled down the edifices of the High Court, I saw your car take a sharp turn southwards, around the fringes of daylight. On its power steering was the hand of your companion. You were seated beside him, on the front seat.
Leaving the bustling city far behind, as your car speeds into the countryside-- in the shadows of hills, touching the margins of the fields-- you inch closer. His left arm wraps around your waist, holding it firmly and drawing you nearer still. One hand on the power steering is enough to steer the car. Further there is the serene countryside, far from the madding crowd; the empty road stretches before your car. Only the white marks in the middle of the road accost you steadily.
A scenic resort. Your car halts. Packing some food and something to drink your car speeds away.
A culvert. You cross it and enter a narrow pebbled road-- that forks out from the highway to the right. Peepul and other trees on either side of the path cast cool dark shadows even under the blazing sun. Your car takes a turn in the direction of the shadows.
A small mulberry farm, a few beel, and a bamboo grove; beyond that a large tract of sugarcane plantation and a tiny processing unit. Your car halts before them. A gatekeeper hurries out of the wicker gate and salutes the car. Majestically, your sleek car slides into the compound.
Rubbing the shadows of dusk on their skins, the labourers proceed homewards... A gas lamp lights up a tiny room. Made of bamboo and cane this guest room is sparsely yet tastefully decorated. An aesthetic ambience welcomes you warmly, and you feel at home.
Outside, your car awaits you. Music plays softly on its stereo. Swaying to the rise and ebb of its melody, even the car seems to break into a divine dance. The gatekeeper not far off, smiles as he rubs some tobacco on his palm.
When the song ends, the night deepens, and silence prevails, your car dozes off. The darkness, increasingly dense, builds its nest amidst the sugarcane. A gust of wind flutters the tip of the green leaves. Some of the machines in the processing unit shudder at the murmur of dry leaves; as does the swarm of flies lying still over the heap of juiceless fibrous sugarcane...
After some time, forgoing the allure of silence, and shredding the bewitching darkness your car heads homewards.
Once again, you enter the brightly illumined city; but it’s silent now. The concrete mansions-flyovers, bus stop-petrol pumps, markets-malls, streets and roads, nooks and crannies—in all their breath hang the weary stench of a tired night.
Your car halts at the entrance of an alleyway near the railway track. You alight and wave at your car. It continues happily on its way and you –clutching your vanity bag—advance, faster than your car and with unsteady steps, over the broken alley.
You reach a tiny tin-roofed house by the side of a long narrow lane. Like an aged python the lane runs alongside the railway track. This house too is yours. A 40-watt bulb flickers in the verandah - waiting only for you to return.
A little ahead the basti has turned smoky. Noises flow intermittently over the air. Probably a cylinder had burst in the evening or a kerosene stove had burnt some of the hutments. It might even have been some explosives hidden in somebody’s possession. The fire has doused –and so it is smoking.
When you reach your home, you turn around for a moment. Your opulent, silver car-- now on the even city roads--is gradually dissolving in the distance. Far away, the twinkling red back-light smiles at you, promising to meet again. You smile back. Of course! You are a car yourself …dazzling red, whose perpose It is to douse burning flames!!
-----------------------------
Monday, December 7, 2009
Thursday, October 29, 2009
Meghamallar
Tapan Das
(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami)
Mustards in full bloom are a succour to the weary eye…
You know, on his beautiful evening, Majuli is swathed in green ink--floating in the swirls of Aapong, the young S.D.O. made vain attempts at scooping out a few flakes of verse.
But then, its true—presently, Majuli is a riot of myriad shades of green.
That patch of mustard on my left is yet to blossom. facing me, the paddy fields that stretch out to the horizon, are luxuriantly green too.
I have indeed come to Majuli in a pleasant clime. It was here that I got acquainted with Pranay Dutta, the young S.D.O. of Majuli. Presently lodged in the Government Circuit House, Dutta helped me finish my work well ahead of time.
“Sir, is your work over?” It was Deben, the chowkidaar of the Circuit House standing beside me, bag in hand.
“Yeah…I’m leaving tomorrow. Are you going to the bazaar?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then please bring me a pack of cigarettes” I took out my wallet and handed him some money.
“But I might be a little late sir. It is only after the evening ferry arrives that the cigarettes will be available”, with these words, Deben left.
This, is Majuli after all. From the man selling knick-knacks to the kerosene-seller, all trade subsists on the ferry that sails from Nimatighat on the other side of the river.
I relax my body on the arm chair. It feels good sitting out here in the verandah.
A warm afternoon in the month of Kati. A multitude of clouds hover in the blue sky above; clouds as white as the conch , … Clouds..megh…meghdoot… messenger of clouds…
In the distance, a number of snow white storks hover about the beel. Lotus leaves float on its surface. There are no flowers.
Onto one of the branches of the giant barren sonaru nearby, two birds are perched … languid, silent. Inside the compound, a black she-goat, along with her brood nibble away at the grass. Two of her little ones tug at the baby leaves of a plant in the unkempt garden; presently though they are seen pulling themselves away from the plant. Apparently, the leaves are not tasty.
Suddenly, the surroundings seem to close in on me—stifling me. Unlike Kalidas however, I am unable to extract even the tiniest drop of rasa out of the present moment. There’s nothing to do, not a soul to be heard; the world is quiet and still . Deben has left already… nobody to share a word. I don’t even feel like reading anything. Clouds, fields, beel till when can one possibly stare at an unchanging naturescape? O how I would cherish a some rain at this moment! Dutta will be back by evening. Even the cigarette supplies are exhausted. What to do…what do I do?
Suddenly I remember the unfinished pack of biscuits on my table. That should do for the moment. I bring the packet from my room and sit down on the verandah. I take out a biscuit and start munching it slowly. In the languid silence, the crunch of the biscuits sound pleasing. I eat as slowly as I can…. This time, I feel the heat. I go in and pour myself a glass of water from the filter. I return to the verandah and once again settle comfortably on my chair.
It is only now that I notice the leaden clouds hoarding the sky. From the west, a massive chunk of thick clouds draw near... As it sweeps the sky, it casts its enormous shadow over the paddy facing me—as though it were a gigantic hairy caterpillar. The sun has in the meanwhile hidden behind the clouds. A light breeze sails through nature. The leaves of the sonaru shiver gently. On the edge of the beel , two storks are fighting over a water snake. The paddy dances in the wind, sending tumultuous waves of green. A pleasant odour tickles my nose buds—I can make out the scent of unripe rice grains, wild flowers and of the mud of the river bank blended in sweet harmony.
Gir-gir-gir… the world reverberates with the thunder. This time around, I can easily smell the chaste intense rain that drawing closer. Gradually the clouds cast their shadow over the land--as far and wide as the eye can see. The wind is in a tumult. The firmament is illumined by incessant flashes of lightning; the sky rings constantly with bellow of thunder.
Outside the compound wall, a calf darts away--tail raised in fright. The family of goats hurriedly gets on to the verandah. The roar of wind drowns the frenzied bleating of the baby goats.
With a sharp creaking sound a branch of the sonaru breaks and falls down. A strong gust of wind forces open the wooden gate of the House. And at that moment in time, a rain descends. At first it falls in large droplets—tup-tup tup-tup. They fall on the tin roof of the Circuit House, evoking melodious notes of tin-tin-tin-tin. It feels as though I have long long awaited these magical notes—tup-tup tin-tin. How beautiful!!
The rain descends in increasingly heavier columns. Nature seems to have ensheathed herself in a sheet of misty silver. The rain, showing no signs of abating, showers over the green paddy. Once in a while a gentle flurry of the wind would unsettle the silvery droplets over the rice plants; making them sways and dance in the wind. Much of the paddy is by now immersed in water. There are puddles here and there, on which silvery raindrops play, like a bunch of toddlers splashing in the rain.
The showering rain sprays its mist over me…and I remain where I am. For the first time in life, I am witnessing such a rain, and I have already fallen in love with it…
It was indeed a heavy downpour …
For a long time, I sat motionless thus, soaking in the rain, like sand dunes in a desert.
I was hardly aware when dusk fell, and darkness wove its curtain all around me. I could only hear the rain falling… jir-jir-jir… and the wind sweeping the world. I got up and pressed the switch; the bulb remained as it was--load shedding. I returned to my chair, and closed my eyes. In this ensheathing darkness, I tried to listen to the faint ektaala playing on the Rain God’s instrument.
I’m not aware till when I was seated thus. Suddenly, I heard somebody clearing his throat; I gently opened my eyes. I could see nothing in the darkness.
“Is it Deben?” I asked.
“No sir, its me”, a deep voice tumbled out, in response. I looked in the direction of the voice, and thought I could discern a man standing, umbrella in hand.
“Whom do you want?” I asked again.
“Isn’t S.D.O. sir around?”
“No”
“I have come with hopes of some monetary help from S.D.O. sir. In the earlier deluge, I had worked hard on his behalf”, the man said
“Kindly wait awhile. He will soon be here..”
“No I can’t. I have a long way to go. Its ok sir, I’ll take your leave.”, without showing any interest in extending the conversation, the stranger turned to leave.
I offered-- “Then please tell me about yourself. May be I could pass on the message when he comes.”
The man paused. In the dark, he fumbled for something, and drew closer—“Here is my address.”
He placed a coarse paper on my outstretched palm. I put it carefully in my pocket. Will have to give it to Dutta when he returns, I thought.
Meanwhile, the man dissolved into the darkness.
Just then, the rain too lightened. I went inside, lit a candle and lay down on my bed. I felt tired, and at once fell into a deep slumber. It was only when Dutta shook me hard that I woke up with a start.
The candle had almost extinguished. Dutta quickly lit it a new one. He took out his bottle of Brandy and pouring some measures into two glasses, offered me one and settling comfortably on my bed, began—
“So, how did you spend your day?”
Just then, Deben arrived with the cigarettes. At Dutta’s order, he hurried to the kitchen.
“Well…tell me—how did you spend your day?” emptying his glass at one gulp, Dutta repeated his question.
“what else? enjoyed the rain…that’s all.”
“Rain!!where…and when?” Dutta seemed surprised
“Since afternoon. Such a heavy downpour!”
“What?? were you dreaming?”, Dutta laughed out loud
“No, I’m not joking. I’m serious. Where were you in the afternoon?” I questioned.
“That is precisely why I’m asking you. Were you dreaming ?I had been at my office since morning. And you know, it’s hardly a furlong from here. Wouldn’t I know if there was rain?” Dutta broke out into peals of laughter.
It felt really awkward. I tried to read Dutta’s expression in the flickering candle light, but couldn’t tell whether he was having fun at my expense.
This time, I elaborated before Dutta the entire experience of the afternoon. I told him, how the rain fell heavily, and how long it lasted. I told him about the broken sonaru branch , the family of goats taking shelter in the verandah, the gate that had opened by itself in the wind. I even told him about the frightened calf that sprang hurriedly in the rain.
But Dutta was in fits. He laughed till he could laugh no more. Controlling himself with some effort, he asked—“ok, if there had been a heavy downpour—as you say—there must be puddles on the ground outside.”
“Yes—definitely” I was confident.
This time, Dutta eyed me with suspicion. Nonetheless he continued—“ok, then let’s go out and see.”
Both of us went.
The night sky was illuminated with a thousand stars. Dutta looked up and smiled. He switched on his torch—its powerful beam swept across the ground beneath his feet. The grass was dry!! He then tore a few leaves from a flower plant in the garden and showed me—a thin film of dust layered the leaves. He next shone his torch on the green corrugated roof of the Circuit House. It was virtually caked with dust.
“Satisfied?” Dutta said.
“One of the branches of the sonaru had broken off!”
“It can break in the wind anyway.Is it necessary to check that?” I was desisted.
Just then, hearing somebody humming a tune just outside, Dutta shouted out—
“Hey—who’s that?”
“Its me—S.D.O. sahib” a crude voice replied.
“Who me?”
“Anil Kamaan--the cartpuller”
“Did it rain here today?”
“What does sahib say—ha ha ha”, laughing, Anil Kamaan moved on pushing his pushcart
This time, Dutta shouted out to deben. He came running out of the kitchen. He too gave a similar answer—
“Rain!!today?where, when? not at all!!”
“Forget it, I suppose you were dreaming…. It happens sometimes though…. Let’s go inside--”with these words, Dutta walked in. Wondering whether I was actually alive, or long dead, I too followed.
Dutta became busy pouring a new peg, while I started scrapping the caverns of my memory to retrieve the experiences of the afternoon.
That beautiful firmament— the firmament hoarded with dark clouds, the incessant falling rain streaks, Nature dancing to the rain’s melody—all this…were all this not there? a mere figment of my imagination?
At about ten that evening, we had our dinner. Candle in hand, Deben took Dutta to his room.
“I suppose the current won’t return tonight after all.”
I changed into my nightshirt. After that I took the candle and went up to the dressing table. Terrified I peered into the mirror. Am I indeed the person standing in front of the mirror?
Suddenly, a lightning struck inside my mind. –“That man!” Of course, there was that man, who had come to meet Dutta. He had come when it was raining heavily. With an umbrella in hand, that man had stood amidst the dark—right there--before my eyes. He’d given me a piece of paper with his address on it, and had left in the rain itself. Yes—that paper, that coarse bit of paper. Where was it now… where had I kept it?
I searched frantically for that paper. That man will certainly know about the rain. He had come amidst the rain itself.
But if it was indeed raining heavily, how come the paper was so dry? How did it dry so easily? Why was there no trace of rain? I was bewildered.
Whatever—the most important thing at the moment was to get that paper with the man’s address on it…where had I kept it?
I remembered—it was in my pant pocket.
I almost hauled the pant from the cloth stand. Thank heavens!!The paper was still there…
At once, I put my hand inside my pocket, and drew it out. At the same moment, I was taken aback.
It was not a piece of paper—but a lotus leaf, folded in the middle. A pleasant scent tickled my nostrils once again—it was the scent of unripe rice grains, of wild flowers and mud of the river bank mix’t in sweet harmony.
Slowly, I opened the folded leaf. On the leaf, with scratch marks made by a light stick, was written in a beautiful hand—“Rainseller”
--------------xxxxxxxxx---------------
( published in 'Cottonian' the college magazine of Cotton College,Guwahati)
(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami)
Mustards in full bloom are a succour to the weary eye…
You know, on his beautiful evening, Majuli is swathed in green ink--floating in the swirls of Aapong, the young S.D.O. made vain attempts at scooping out a few flakes of verse.
But then, its true—presently, Majuli is a riot of myriad shades of green.
That patch of mustard on my left is yet to blossom. facing me, the paddy fields that stretch out to the horizon, are luxuriantly green too.
I have indeed come to Majuli in a pleasant clime. It was here that I got acquainted with Pranay Dutta, the young S.D.O. of Majuli. Presently lodged in the Government Circuit House, Dutta helped me finish my work well ahead of time.
“Sir, is your work over?” It was Deben, the chowkidaar of the Circuit House standing beside me, bag in hand.
“Yeah…I’m leaving tomorrow. Are you going to the bazaar?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then please bring me a pack of cigarettes” I took out my wallet and handed him some money.
“But I might be a little late sir. It is only after the evening ferry arrives that the cigarettes will be available”, with these words, Deben left.
This, is Majuli after all. From the man selling knick-knacks to the kerosene-seller, all trade subsists on the ferry that sails from Nimatighat on the other side of the river.
I relax my body on the arm chair. It feels good sitting out here in the verandah.
A warm afternoon in the month of Kati. A multitude of clouds hover in the blue sky above; clouds as white as the conch , … Clouds..megh…meghdoot… messenger of clouds…
In the distance, a number of snow white storks hover about the beel. Lotus leaves float on its surface. There are no flowers.
Onto one of the branches of the giant barren sonaru nearby, two birds are perched … languid, silent. Inside the compound, a black she-goat, along with her brood nibble away at the grass. Two of her little ones tug at the baby leaves of a plant in the unkempt garden; presently though they are seen pulling themselves away from the plant. Apparently, the leaves are not tasty.
Suddenly, the surroundings seem to close in on me—stifling me. Unlike Kalidas however, I am unable to extract even the tiniest drop of rasa out of the present moment. There’s nothing to do, not a soul to be heard; the world is quiet and still . Deben has left already… nobody to share a word. I don’t even feel like reading anything. Clouds, fields, beel till when can one possibly stare at an unchanging naturescape? O how I would cherish a some rain at this moment! Dutta will be back by evening. Even the cigarette supplies are exhausted. What to do…what do I do?
Suddenly I remember the unfinished pack of biscuits on my table. That should do for the moment. I bring the packet from my room and sit down on the verandah. I take out a biscuit and start munching it slowly. In the languid silence, the crunch of the biscuits sound pleasing. I eat as slowly as I can…. This time, I feel the heat. I go in and pour myself a glass of water from the filter. I return to the verandah and once again settle comfortably on my chair.
It is only now that I notice the leaden clouds hoarding the sky. From the west, a massive chunk of thick clouds draw near... As it sweeps the sky, it casts its enormous shadow over the paddy facing me—as though it were a gigantic hairy caterpillar. The sun has in the meanwhile hidden behind the clouds. A light breeze sails through nature. The leaves of the sonaru shiver gently. On the edge of the beel , two storks are fighting over a water snake. The paddy dances in the wind, sending tumultuous waves of green. A pleasant odour tickles my nose buds—I can make out the scent of unripe rice grains, wild flowers and of the mud of the river bank blended in sweet harmony.
Gir-gir-gir… the world reverberates with the thunder. This time around, I can easily smell the chaste intense rain that drawing closer. Gradually the clouds cast their shadow over the land--as far and wide as the eye can see. The wind is in a tumult. The firmament is illumined by incessant flashes of lightning; the sky rings constantly with bellow of thunder.
Outside the compound wall, a calf darts away--tail raised in fright. The family of goats hurriedly gets on to the verandah. The roar of wind drowns the frenzied bleating of the baby goats.
With a sharp creaking sound a branch of the sonaru breaks and falls down. A strong gust of wind forces open the wooden gate of the House. And at that moment in time, a rain descends. At first it falls in large droplets—tup-tup tup-tup. They fall on the tin roof of the Circuit House, evoking melodious notes of tin-tin-tin-tin. It feels as though I have long long awaited these magical notes—tup-tup tin-tin. How beautiful!!
The rain descends in increasingly heavier columns. Nature seems to have ensheathed herself in a sheet of misty silver. The rain, showing no signs of abating, showers over the green paddy. Once in a while a gentle flurry of the wind would unsettle the silvery droplets over the rice plants; making them sways and dance in the wind. Much of the paddy is by now immersed in water. There are puddles here and there, on which silvery raindrops play, like a bunch of toddlers splashing in the rain.
The showering rain sprays its mist over me…and I remain where I am. For the first time in life, I am witnessing such a rain, and I have already fallen in love with it…
It was indeed a heavy downpour …
For a long time, I sat motionless thus, soaking in the rain, like sand dunes in a desert.
I was hardly aware when dusk fell, and darkness wove its curtain all around me. I could only hear the rain falling… jir-jir-jir… and the wind sweeping the world. I got up and pressed the switch; the bulb remained as it was--load shedding. I returned to my chair, and closed my eyes. In this ensheathing darkness, I tried to listen to the faint ektaala playing on the Rain God’s instrument.
I’m not aware till when I was seated thus. Suddenly, I heard somebody clearing his throat; I gently opened my eyes. I could see nothing in the darkness.
“Is it Deben?” I asked.
“No sir, its me”, a deep voice tumbled out, in response. I looked in the direction of the voice, and thought I could discern a man standing, umbrella in hand.
“Whom do you want?” I asked again.
“Isn’t S.D.O. sir around?”
“No”
“I have come with hopes of some monetary help from S.D.O. sir. In the earlier deluge, I had worked hard on his behalf”, the man said
“Kindly wait awhile. He will soon be here..”
“No I can’t. I have a long way to go. Its ok sir, I’ll take your leave.”, without showing any interest in extending the conversation, the stranger turned to leave.
I offered-- “Then please tell me about yourself. May be I could pass on the message when he comes.”
The man paused. In the dark, he fumbled for something, and drew closer—“Here is my address.”
He placed a coarse paper on my outstretched palm. I put it carefully in my pocket. Will have to give it to Dutta when he returns, I thought.
Meanwhile, the man dissolved into the darkness.
Just then, the rain too lightened. I went inside, lit a candle and lay down on my bed. I felt tired, and at once fell into a deep slumber. It was only when Dutta shook me hard that I woke up with a start.
The candle had almost extinguished. Dutta quickly lit it a new one. He took out his bottle of Brandy and pouring some measures into two glasses, offered me one and settling comfortably on my bed, began—
“So, how did you spend your day?”
Just then, Deben arrived with the cigarettes. At Dutta’s order, he hurried to the kitchen.
“Well…tell me—how did you spend your day?” emptying his glass at one gulp, Dutta repeated his question.
“what else? enjoyed the rain…that’s all.”
“Rain!!where…and when?” Dutta seemed surprised
“Since afternoon. Such a heavy downpour!”
“What?? were you dreaming?”, Dutta laughed out loud
“No, I’m not joking. I’m serious. Where were you in the afternoon?” I questioned.
“That is precisely why I’m asking you. Were you dreaming ?I had been at my office since morning. And you know, it’s hardly a furlong from here. Wouldn’t I know if there was rain?” Dutta broke out into peals of laughter.
It felt really awkward. I tried to read Dutta’s expression in the flickering candle light, but couldn’t tell whether he was having fun at my expense.
This time, I elaborated before Dutta the entire experience of the afternoon. I told him, how the rain fell heavily, and how long it lasted. I told him about the broken sonaru branch , the family of goats taking shelter in the verandah, the gate that had opened by itself in the wind. I even told him about the frightened calf that sprang hurriedly in the rain.
But Dutta was in fits. He laughed till he could laugh no more. Controlling himself with some effort, he asked—“ok, if there had been a heavy downpour—as you say—there must be puddles on the ground outside.”
“Yes—definitely” I was confident.
This time, Dutta eyed me with suspicion. Nonetheless he continued—“ok, then let’s go out and see.”
Both of us went.
The night sky was illuminated with a thousand stars. Dutta looked up and smiled. He switched on his torch—its powerful beam swept across the ground beneath his feet. The grass was dry!! He then tore a few leaves from a flower plant in the garden and showed me—a thin film of dust layered the leaves. He next shone his torch on the green corrugated roof of the Circuit House. It was virtually caked with dust.
“Satisfied?” Dutta said.
“One of the branches of the sonaru had broken off!”
“It can break in the wind anyway.Is it necessary to check that?” I was desisted.
Just then, hearing somebody humming a tune just outside, Dutta shouted out—
“Hey—who’s that?”
“Its me—S.D.O. sahib” a crude voice replied.
“Who me?”
“Anil Kamaan--the cartpuller”
“Did it rain here today?”
“What does sahib say—ha ha ha”, laughing, Anil Kamaan moved on pushing his pushcart
This time, Dutta shouted out to deben. He came running out of the kitchen. He too gave a similar answer—
“Rain!!today?where, when? not at all!!”
“Forget it, I suppose you were dreaming…. It happens sometimes though…. Let’s go inside--”with these words, Dutta walked in. Wondering whether I was actually alive, or long dead, I too followed.
Dutta became busy pouring a new peg, while I started scrapping the caverns of my memory to retrieve the experiences of the afternoon.
That beautiful firmament— the firmament hoarded with dark clouds, the incessant falling rain streaks, Nature dancing to the rain’s melody—all this…were all this not there? a mere figment of my imagination?
At about ten that evening, we had our dinner. Candle in hand, Deben took Dutta to his room.
“I suppose the current won’t return tonight after all.”
I changed into my nightshirt. After that I took the candle and went up to the dressing table. Terrified I peered into the mirror. Am I indeed the person standing in front of the mirror?
Suddenly, a lightning struck inside my mind. –“That man!” Of course, there was that man, who had come to meet Dutta. He had come when it was raining heavily. With an umbrella in hand, that man had stood amidst the dark—right there--before my eyes. He’d given me a piece of paper with his address on it, and had left in the rain itself. Yes—that paper, that coarse bit of paper. Where was it now… where had I kept it?
I searched frantically for that paper. That man will certainly know about the rain. He had come amidst the rain itself.
But if it was indeed raining heavily, how come the paper was so dry? How did it dry so easily? Why was there no trace of rain? I was bewildered.
Whatever—the most important thing at the moment was to get that paper with the man’s address on it…where had I kept it?
I remembered—it was in my pant pocket.
I almost hauled the pant from the cloth stand. Thank heavens!!The paper was still there…
At once, I put my hand inside my pocket, and drew it out. At the same moment, I was taken aback.
It was not a piece of paper—but a lotus leaf, folded in the middle. A pleasant scent tickled my nostrils once again—it was the scent of unripe rice grains, of wild flowers and mud of the river bank mix’t in sweet harmony.
Slowly, I opened the folded leaf. On the leaf, with scratch marks made by a light stick, was written in a beautiful hand—“Rainseller”
--------------xxxxxxxxx---------------
( published in 'Cottonian' the college magazine of Cotton College,Guwahati)
Saturday, September 26, 2009
Bihu in Satras of Assam
Sri Sri Pitambar Dev Goswami
(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami)
In a year there are two ayan i.e. the half year in which the sun is in the north or south of the earth. These are Uttarayan and Dakhinayan . Each ayan has three ritu or seasons—of which hemanta (Autumn), baxanta (spring) and xeet (winter) seasons fall in Uttarayan . Bihu celebrated in each of these three seasons. Taken together these three comprise the mainspring of the socio-cultural life of the Assamese society and the Assamese race. Each festival has its distinctive traits and traditions, customs and mores. i) While The Bohag Bihu falls on the Mahavishuv Sankranti on the domaahi or the last day of the month of Sot and Bohag months (respectively the last and first months) in the Assamese calendar ii) the kati bihu falls on the domahi of ahin and kati (the sixth and seven months in the Assamese calendar respectively ) on the Jalavishuv Sankranti iii) the Magh bihu falls on the makar-vishuv sankranti of the Pooh-Magh domahi (Pooh is the ninth and magh the tenth month of the Assamese calendar year).The history of Assam can be broadly divided into three ages—a)Ancient age—from 2nd /3rd century to the end of 12th century A.D. till the fall of the Pal dynasty b) from Middle age—from 13th century A.D. to the beginning of 19th century A.D. i.e. from the advent of the Ahoms till the advent of the British. C)Modern age—from the 19th century onwards till the present times.[Sarbeswar Rajguru, Itihaaxor Paat Meli]There is no recorded evidence of the celebration of Bihu festival in the Pragjyotishpur and Kamrup of the ancient times. Though some scholars tend to trace the origin of the songs and dances intrinsically associated with the Bihu celebrations to the Austrics [ R.M. Nath, The Background of Assamese Culture] . The era of Sri Sri Sankardeva and the Navavaishnav Andolan or the Neo-Vaishnavite Movement falls in the Middle Age. During that period, Bihu was celebrated amongst the masses, but there is no specific mention in the Gurucharit (the sacred text) of Bihu being celebrated or observed in the Satras. Though it is difficult to determine the precise moment of initiation of Bihu celebrations into the Satra institution, it is undoubtable that observation of the Bihu festival in the Satras traces its origin to royal patronage: satras that enjoyed royal benefaction saw incorporation and intermingling of certain royal traditions, customs and mores into its aesthetic world. (From this point of view, Bihu celebration in the satras of Assam dates back to the middle of 17th century). Bihu being primarily an agricultural or agro-centric festival, Bihu (celebration) in the Satras that differs considerably from the Bihu (celebration) in the Assamese social life. Thus while songs , dances and merriment occupy centre stage in Bihu celebration amidst the masses, Bihu in the Satras is observed, keeping in view the aesthetic and spiritual aspects of the festival—that are in accordance with the objectives of the Satra institution.Bohag Bihu:Also known as Rongali Bihu or Sotor Bihu, Bohag Bihu is celebrated for three days. Though the Bihu songs-and-dances do not find in the Satriya way of life, the husori-- that precedes the Bihu songs-and-dances and that has aesthetic connotations-- is performed in the grihee satras(i.e. satras whose inhabitants are householders) by the local people . In keeping with its objectives, the Satra institution has a tradition of devotional songs and dances during Bohag Bihu.The three days of Bohag Bihu as observed in the Satras are similar to that observed amongst the masses—a) Goru Bihu—which entails worshipping and ritual purification of the cow(goru) as well as the cowshed (gohaali) b) manuhor bihu—that entails veneration towards man (who is believed to be the incarnation of God Narayan)[manuh means ‘man’] c)sera bihu—which implies the end of the main Bihu festival. Of course different activities related to this festival extend over the entire month of Bohag. In the Satras, this includes—naam kirtan, special puja, donning of new clothes, feasting, different games et al. Of course all these activities are marked by a restraint that follows the injunctions of Mahapurush Sri Sri Sankardeva. On the day before the Sankranti—the Uruka—the namghar precints—especially the manikut, the storehouse, the gurugrih(the abode of the teacher), the tenements of the bhakats, are all swept and wiped clean. The tenements are wiped with cow dung; in an agrarian society the importance of the cow is unquestionable. Cow dung, cow urine, milk, curd, ghee –these are considered highly sacrosanct. In the Satras, the cow is deemed as equivalent to a devata. It is believed, that all the devatas and religious shrines of the Hindu pantheon reside in the cow. On the day of goru bihu the cows are rubbed clean with a mixture of grounded gram , haldi and mustard oil and taken to the neighboring water bodies like beel, ponds or river for a bathe. After which they are left to graze. In the meanwhile the cowshed is swept and wiped clean. In the evening, the cows are led back to their sheds with mild swaps of makhiyoti and digholoti leaves. These leaves are believed to have medicinal properties. The gohali or cowshed is smoked by burning straw, leaves of hemp (bhang) etc. to drive away mosquitoes and flies. Each of the cows is tied with a new rope (called pogha). Rongali Bihu being the festival of merriment, different games are also organized in the Satras. These games can be played by men of all age-groups and they include, amongst others—posi khel, pasha, mangalpaat, baghmani, hoi-gudu, dhora-gudu, tekeli bhanga(breaking of pots) . Some of these games extend upto a month. The play of cymbals in the namghar herald The end of the day’s games. Accordingly, the bhakats head reverentially towards the namghar the evening’s hiyanaam .Along with the main events, the entire day is spent in naam-prasang in which all Vaishnavites of the Satra take part.On manuh bihu, the day begins with boka khel or mud-games—in which all men young and old participate. These mud-games are reminiscent of the festival of holi. The mud is prepared by mixing earth with cow dung water. These games are believed to—firstly protect the skin from skin diseases; secondly , cow dung is considered sacrosanct; thirdly, digging earth for the mud makes the soil fertile and prepares it for the next crop cycle. After cleaning the mud off the body, the Satra residents rub themselves with a paste of maah-haldi and mustard oil. This ritual is believed to not only prevent skin diseases but also purify the individual for the whole year. This ritual is observed by the people on all three days of the Bihu. After their bathes, the residents of the Satra proceed to the namghar to seek blessings of the mahaprabhu i.e. Lord Vishnu . After that before the traditional jalpaan(meal) , the people consume a few neem leaves and some grains of the masur dal. It is believed that consuming this mixture of neem leaves and masur dal protects a person from the venom of snake bite.Another specialty of this Bihu is donning of new clothes. As Nature puts on a new colour, the Satra residents too don new clothes on this first day of the new year. A typical dress in the Satra comprises dhoti, kurta, seleng (a thin cloth wrapped around the body or thrown over the shoulders ), gamosa etc. Besides, the manikut –the vestry or the room attached to the namghar in which the bhagawat is kept–and other clothes and hangings in the namghar and other quarters in the Satra are removed to hang new clothes.On the last day of Bihu—the sera bihu—the day is spent in naam-prasang as in the previous two days.Interestingly, there are minor variations in the way Bohag Bihu is celebrated in different satras. For instance in the Dakhinpat Satra, Bihu is celebrated primarily on the day of Sankranti. While in the Garmur Satra, Bihu is celebrated for two days--on the day of goru bihu and manuh bihu.In the Bengenaati Satra, special importance is given to the meal cooked on the day of sera bihu. Curd and bitter gourd are essential components in this meal. Another custom associated with this meal is the use of bisoni(hand fan made of bamboo and cane) to fan the bhakats eating the meal. In the grihee satras (where bhakats get married and live with their families ) this act is performed by the lady of the household while in the udaashin satras (i.e. where men embrace celibacy) this is done by the senior most resident of the boha or the bhakats house in the Satra. Traditionally the bisoni cannot be used before this. However in the Bihampur Satra of Majuli, there is a Gosain bihu on the day after sera bihu. . On that day, towards the evening mahaprabhu is fanned by the bisoni and only after that the others use their bisoni. Towards the evening, on sera bihu a special curry is prepared with a hundred and seven herbs and other edible plants. This curry has medicinal properties.It is imperative to note that the traditions prevalent in the Satras during Bihu celebration originate from the customs and mores of the society at large. The Assamese society is a composite society created from intermingling of different races and sub-races over time. As the Assamese culture took shape, Bihu evolved as a festival that reflected this diverse culture. As the centre of religion, the Satras are not isolated from the developments in society. Thus, many of the popular beliefs and traditions prevalent in society have been adapted and given a spiritual and aesthetic significance by the Satra institution.Kati BihuAlso known as Kongali Bihu, this Bihu falls in the month of kartik that is known as kati in Assamese and is the seventh month of the Assamese calendar. Though it is generally celebrated for one day, in some parts of Assam—including the Satras—there is a tradition of lighting of lamps especially of sky lamps for an entire month. Generally, this time of the year, in Assam is a period of shortage –with the harvest season still some months away. Therefore, this Bihu is marked by a considerable degree of restraint in merriment. Also, there is an almost unusual proliferation of pests and insects during this time; the lamps lit attract these insects et al and devour them in their flames—thereby reducing considerably the problem of pests and bugs. Further, this festival is remarkable for its greater emphasis on spirituality. On the day of the Sankranti, every household creates(the bohas in the Satras) a small raised platform of mud on the ground—and plant a sapling of the tulsi plant. An earthen lamp is lit beneath the tulsi plant with devotion and religious fervour. Because of this, in the Satras, emphasis is given on tulsi puja and lighting of sky lamps. The month of Kati or kartik is said to be the favourite of Lord Vishnu. It is believed that if one fasts during this month and pays obeisance to the Lord Vishnu with tulsi puja, the Lord is greatly pleased. Owing to this, people abstain from all kinds of non-vegetarian food. In the Satras, the bhakats abstain from taking fish all through the month of Kati.Considered sacrosanct, and a much loved plant of Lord Vishnu, the tulsi plant is at the centre of the activities and traditions associated with Kati Bihu.The other important aspect of this festival is the lighting sky lamps . “Lamps are hung in the sky in small baskets from pole tops. They rise tier above tier along the banks of rivers with continuous flights of steps as may be seen in Banaras and Mathura. The custom is to keep these sky lamps burning all through Kartikka to light the path of departed spirits across the sky.” [The Cultural Heritage of India, vol. IV Ed. Haridas Bhattacharjya, p.488]. In the Satras, the sky-lamps range from one to twenty-one in number. In addition to the earthen lamps lit beneath the newly planted tulsi saplings in each boha , arrangements are made for a communal lighting of the sky-lamps in the middle of the Satra. As in Rongali Bihu, in Kati Bihu as well there are different devotional activities in the Satra pertaining to the Bihu—these include naam-prasang, puja et al. Four lamps are lit in the morning itself—in the manikut grih (i.e.the place where the manikut is kept)—and placed at the feet of (dedicated to ) the Mahaprabhu. After that, a lamp each is lit and dedicated to the Satradhikar, Gobindapuriya Vaishnav, disciples, all other residents and finally all the people at large. In the evening, at the end of the day’s dihanaam, gayan-bayan, ojapali et al sung/performed on the occasion of Bihu, the dedicated lamps are taken and reverentially used to lit the common sky lamps .The traditions of Kati Bihu have been raised to the level of religious rites in the Satras.Magh BihuThe festival of Magh Bihu, also called Bhogali Bihu is centered around the harvest of crops. It falls in the month of Magh—the tenth month of the Assamese calendar. Agni puja, community feast, cooking of delicacies (which are otherwise made in all the three Bihus but there greater feasting in Magh Bihu) are the characteristics of this Bihu . On the morning of the Bihu—the meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar—-- is set afire, and offerings are made to the Agni devata or Fire God. This meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar , made of firewood, straw, bamboo etc. is built on the previous day itself. According to the manner in which it is made it is known by different names . For instance in Lower Assam it is made of straw—and is called bhela ghar.However, unlike the broader society where Magh Bihu celebration predominantly takes place in the open fields, in the Satras, Magh Bihu is observed essentially in the namghar. Especially agni puja, naam-kirtan etc. take place in the namghar. Of course the lighting of the meji and the community feast on Uruka—i.e. the day before the Sankranti—takes place in the open(within the Satra precints). Even here, there are certain norms. For one, the food can be cooked only by a Vaishnav whose assigned task, in the Satra is to cook. Further, the meji is prepared by placing firewood in a particular manner inside a square formed by planting four uprooted banana trees.After this, four entrances are made into the meji on four sides by digging four holes in the ground beneath the meji. It is imperative to note that in the Satra, importance is not ascribed in making meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar. The firewood is simply placed inside that square. After the meji has been made, a humble yet reverential offering of betel nut-paan and an earthen lamp to Agni devata is made after which the fire is lit and cooking for the feast commences. After the food has been prepared and all the bhakats including the Satradhikar and the other high officials of the Satra have assembled, there is invocation to Lord Hari or Vishnu (hari- dhwani) and the feast begins. In some Satras, there is a tradition of sankirtan or Sabahuwa naam( communal ) at the meji-site after the feast is over. The next morning, the bhakats especially the youths rise at the break of dawn and after performing their morning ablutions and purifying themselves they set to light the meji. A branch of mango tree is lit and is inserted into the meji from the entrance dug in the ground in the eastern direction—and the meji is set afire. After this, of betel nut-paan, different delicacies prepared for Bihu etc. are offered on plantain leaves to the fire in the meji. During the day, agni puja is performed according to Vedic rituals in many Satras—during which the Vaishnavs take part in naam-prasang that extends all through the day. After the agni puja is over, there is ojapali, gayan-bayan, hiya naam, diha naam etc. in the namghar. In many Satras, naam-kirtan extends well into the night.There are several customs and mores associated with Magh Bihu that are observed in the Satras—especially pertaining to food.This includes—eating of kaath aloo( a kind of hard yam ) and mitha aloo(sweet potato), gotkarai or maahkarai [ mixture prepared from newly harvested mati maah(Phaseolus radiatus), bora saul(a kind of rice), til(sesame)] Of course,This gotkarai or maahkarai is first dedicated to the mahaprabhu ;only after that is the gotkarai or maahkarai distributed amidst the inhabitants of the Satra from the manikut ghar.In the preparation of food—including the delicacies of Bihu, the Vaishnav reveals a dexterity that is at par with an average Assamese housewife.
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[published in the journal Quest published by the Vivekananda Kendra Institute of Culture, a Research Centre recognised under the Dibrugarh University]
(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami)
In a year there are two ayan i.e. the half year in which the sun is in the north or south of the earth. These are Uttarayan and Dakhinayan . Each ayan has three ritu or seasons—of which hemanta (Autumn), baxanta (spring) and xeet (winter) seasons fall in Uttarayan . Bihu celebrated in each of these three seasons. Taken together these three comprise the mainspring of the socio-cultural life of the Assamese society and the Assamese race. Each festival has its distinctive traits and traditions, customs and mores. i) While The Bohag Bihu falls on the Mahavishuv Sankranti on the domaahi or the last day of the month of Sot and Bohag months (respectively the last and first months) in the Assamese calendar ii) the kati bihu falls on the domahi of ahin and kati (the sixth and seven months in the Assamese calendar respectively ) on the Jalavishuv Sankranti iii) the Magh bihu falls on the makar-vishuv sankranti of the Pooh-Magh domahi (Pooh is the ninth and magh the tenth month of the Assamese calendar year).The history of Assam can be broadly divided into three ages—a)Ancient age—from 2nd /3rd century to the end of 12th century A.D. till the fall of the Pal dynasty b) from Middle age—from 13th century A.D. to the beginning of 19th century A.D. i.e. from the advent of the Ahoms till the advent of the British. C)Modern age—from the 19th century onwards till the present times.[Sarbeswar Rajguru, Itihaaxor Paat Meli]There is no recorded evidence of the celebration of Bihu festival in the Pragjyotishpur and Kamrup of the ancient times. Though some scholars tend to trace the origin of the songs and dances intrinsically associated with the Bihu celebrations to the Austrics [ R.M. Nath, The Background of Assamese Culture] . The era of Sri Sri Sankardeva and the Navavaishnav Andolan or the Neo-Vaishnavite Movement falls in the Middle Age. During that period, Bihu was celebrated amongst the masses, but there is no specific mention in the Gurucharit (the sacred text) of Bihu being celebrated or observed in the Satras. Though it is difficult to determine the precise moment of initiation of Bihu celebrations into the Satra institution, it is undoubtable that observation of the Bihu festival in the Satras traces its origin to royal patronage: satras that enjoyed royal benefaction saw incorporation and intermingling of certain royal traditions, customs and mores into its aesthetic world. (From this point of view, Bihu celebration in the satras of Assam dates back to the middle of 17th century). Bihu being primarily an agricultural or agro-centric festival, Bihu (celebration) in the Satras that differs considerably from the Bihu (celebration) in the Assamese social life. Thus while songs , dances and merriment occupy centre stage in Bihu celebration amidst the masses, Bihu in the Satras is observed, keeping in view the aesthetic and spiritual aspects of the festival—that are in accordance with the objectives of the Satra institution.Bohag Bihu:Also known as Rongali Bihu or Sotor Bihu, Bohag Bihu is celebrated for three days. Though the Bihu songs-and-dances do not find in the Satriya way of life, the husori-- that precedes the Bihu songs-and-dances and that has aesthetic connotations-- is performed in the grihee satras(i.e. satras whose inhabitants are householders) by the local people . In keeping with its objectives, the Satra institution has a tradition of devotional songs and dances during Bohag Bihu.The three days of Bohag Bihu as observed in the Satras are similar to that observed amongst the masses—a) Goru Bihu—which entails worshipping and ritual purification of the cow(goru) as well as the cowshed (gohaali) b) manuhor bihu—that entails veneration towards man (who is believed to be the incarnation of God Narayan)[manuh means ‘man’] c)sera bihu—which implies the end of the main Bihu festival. Of course different activities related to this festival extend over the entire month of Bohag. In the Satras, this includes—naam kirtan, special puja, donning of new clothes, feasting, different games et al. Of course all these activities are marked by a restraint that follows the injunctions of Mahapurush Sri Sri Sankardeva. On the day before the Sankranti—the Uruka—the namghar precints—especially the manikut, the storehouse, the gurugrih(the abode of the teacher), the tenements of the bhakats, are all swept and wiped clean. The tenements are wiped with cow dung; in an agrarian society the importance of the cow is unquestionable. Cow dung, cow urine, milk, curd, ghee –these are considered highly sacrosanct. In the Satras, the cow is deemed as equivalent to a devata. It is believed, that all the devatas and religious shrines of the Hindu pantheon reside in the cow. On the day of goru bihu the cows are rubbed clean with a mixture of grounded gram , haldi and mustard oil and taken to the neighboring water bodies like beel, ponds or river for a bathe. After which they are left to graze. In the meanwhile the cowshed is swept and wiped clean. In the evening, the cows are led back to their sheds with mild swaps of makhiyoti and digholoti leaves. These leaves are believed to have medicinal properties. The gohali or cowshed is smoked by burning straw, leaves of hemp (bhang) etc. to drive away mosquitoes and flies. Each of the cows is tied with a new rope (called pogha). Rongali Bihu being the festival of merriment, different games are also organized in the Satras. These games can be played by men of all age-groups and they include, amongst others—posi khel, pasha, mangalpaat, baghmani, hoi-gudu, dhora-gudu, tekeli bhanga(breaking of pots) . Some of these games extend upto a month. The play of cymbals in the namghar herald The end of the day’s games. Accordingly, the bhakats head reverentially towards the namghar the evening’s hiyanaam .Along with the main events, the entire day is spent in naam-prasang in which all Vaishnavites of the Satra take part.On manuh bihu, the day begins with boka khel or mud-games—in which all men young and old participate. These mud-games are reminiscent of the festival of holi. The mud is prepared by mixing earth with cow dung water. These games are believed to—firstly protect the skin from skin diseases; secondly , cow dung is considered sacrosanct; thirdly, digging earth for the mud makes the soil fertile and prepares it for the next crop cycle. After cleaning the mud off the body, the Satra residents rub themselves with a paste of maah-haldi and mustard oil. This ritual is believed to not only prevent skin diseases but also purify the individual for the whole year. This ritual is observed by the people on all three days of the Bihu. After their bathes, the residents of the Satra proceed to the namghar to seek blessings of the mahaprabhu i.e. Lord Vishnu . After that before the traditional jalpaan(meal) , the people consume a few neem leaves and some grains of the masur dal. It is believed that consuming this mixture of neem leaves and masur dal protects a person from the venom of snake bite.Another specialty of this Bihu is donning of new clothes. As Nature puts on a new colour, the Satra residents too don new clothes on this first day of the new year. A typical dress in the Satra comprises dhoti, kurta, seleng (a thin cloth wrapped around the body or thrown over the shoulders ), gamosa etc. Besides, the manikut –the vestry or the room attached to the namghar in which the bhagawat is kept–and other clothes and hangings in the namghar and other quarters in the Satra are removed to hang new clothes.On the last day of Bihu—the sera bihu—the day is spent in naam-prasang as in the previous two days.Interestingly, there are minor variations in the way Bohag Bihu is celebrated in different satras. For instance in the Dakhinpat Satra, Bihu is celebrated primarily on the day of Sankranti. While in the Garmur Satra, Bihu is celebrated for two days--on the day of goru bihu and manuh bihu.In the Bengenaati Satra, special importance is given to the meal cooked on the day of sera bihu. Curd and bitter gourd are essential components in this meal. Another custom associated with this meal is the use of bisoni(hand fan made of bamboo and cane) to fan the bhakats eating the meal. In the grihee satras (where bhakats get married and live with their families ) this act is performed by the lady of the household while in the udaashin satras (i.e. where men embrace celibacy) this is done by the senior most resident of the boha or the bhakats house in the Satra. Traditionally the bisoni cannot be used before this. However in the Bihampur Satra of Majuli, there is a Gosain bihu on the day after sera bihu. . On that day, towards the evening mahaprabhu is fanned by the bisoni and only after that the others use their bisoni. Towards the evening, on sera bihu a special curry is prepared with a hundred and seven herbs and other edible plants. This curry has medicinal properties.It is imperative to note that the traditions prevalent in the Satras during Bihu celebration originate from the customs and mores of the society at large. The Assamese society is a composite society created from intermingling of different races and sub-races over time. As the Assamese culture took shape, Bihu evolved as a festival that reflected this diverse culture. As the centre of religion, the Satras are not isolated from the developments in society. Thus, many of the popular beliefs and traditions prevalent in society have been adapted and given a spiritual and aesthetic significance by the Satra institution.Kati BihuAlso known as Kongali Bihu, this Bihu falls in the month of kartik that is known as kati in Assamese and is the seventh month of the Assamese calendar. Though it is generally celebrated for one day, in some parts of Assam—including the Satras—there is a tradition of lighting of lamps especially of sky lamps for an entire month. Generally, this time of the year, in Assam is a period of shortage –with the harvest season still some months away. Therefore, this Bihu is marked by a considerable degree of restraint in merriment. Also, there is an almost unusual proliferation of pests and insects during this time; the lamps lit attract these insects et al and devour them in their flames—thereby reducing considerably the problem of pests and bugs. Further, this festival is remarkable for its greater emphasis on spirituality. On the day of the Sankranti, every household creates(the bohas in the Satras) a small raised platform of mud on the ground—and plant a sapling of the tulsi plant. An earthen lamp is lit beneath the tulsi plant with devotion and religious fervour. Because of this, in the Satras, emphasis is given on tulsi puja and lighting of sky lamps. The month of Kati or kartik is said to be the favourite of Lord Vishnu. It is believed that if one fasts during this month and pays obeisance to the Lord Vishnu with tulsi puja, the Lord is greatly pleased. Owing to this, people abstain from all kinds of non-vegetarian food. In the Satras, the bhakats abstain from taking fish all through the month of Kati.Considered sacrosanct, and a much loved plant of Lord Vishnu, the tulsi plant is at the centre of the activities and traditions associated with Kati Bihu.The other important aspect of this festival is the lighting sky lamps . “Lamps are hung in the sky in small baskets from pole tops. They rise tier above tier along the banks of rivers with continuous flights of steps as may be seen in Banaras and Mathura. The custom is to keep these sky lamps burning all through Kartikka to light the path of departed spirits across the sky.” [The Cultural Heritage of India, vol. IV Ed. Haridas Bhattacharjya, p.488]. In the Satras, the sky-lamps range from one to twenty-one in number. In addition to the earthen lamps lit beneath the newly planted tulsi saplings in each boha , arrangements are made for a communal lighting of the sky-lamps in the middle of the Satra. As in Rongali Bihu, in Kati Bihu as well there are different devotional activities in the Satra pertaining to the Bihu—these include naam-prasang, puja et al. Four lamps are lit in the morning itself—in the manikut grih (i.e.the place where the manikut is kept)—and placed at the feet of (dedicated to ) the Mahaprabhu. After that, a lamp each is lit and dedicated to the Satradhikar, Gobindapuriya Vaishnav, disciples, all other residents and finally all the people at large. In the evening, at the end of the day’s dihanaam, gayan-bayan, ojapali et al sung/performed on the occasion of Bihu, the dedicated lamps are taken and reverentially used to lit the common sky lamps .The traditions of Kati Bihu have been raised to the level of religious rites in the Satras.Magh BihuThe festival of Magh Bihu, also called Bhogali Bihu is centered around the harvest of crops. It falls in the month of Magh—the tenth month of the Assamese calendar. Agni puja, community feast, cooking of delicacies (which are otherwise made in all the three Bihus but there greater feasting in Magh Bihu) are the characteristics of this Bihu . On the morning of the Bihu—the meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar—-- is set afire, and offerings are made to the Agni devata or Fire God. This meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar , made of firewood, straw, bamboo etc. is built on the previous day itself. According to the manner in which it is made it is known by different names . For instance in Lower Assam it is made of straw—and is called bhela ghar.However, unlike the broader society where Magh Bihu celebration predominantly takes place in the open fields, in the Satras, Magh Bihu is observed essentially in the namghar. Especially agni puja, naam-kirtan etc. take place in the namghar. Of course the lighting of the meji and the community feast on Uruka—i.e. the day before the Sankranti—takes place in the open(within the Satra precints). Even here, there are certain norms. For one, the food can be cooked only by a Vaishnav whose assigned task, in the Satra is to cook. Further, the meji is prepared by placing firewood in a particular manner inside a square formed by planting four uprooted banana trees.After this, four entrances are made into the meji on four sides by digging four holes in the ground beneath the meji. It is imperative to note that in the Satra, importance is not ascribed in making meji ghar, bhela ghar or haaroli ghar. The firewood is simply placed inside that square. After the meji has been made, a humble yet reverential offering of betel nut-paan and an earthen lamp to Agni devata is made after which the fire is lit and cooking for the feast commences. After the food has been prepared and all the bhakats including the Satradhikar and the other high officials of the Satra have assembled, there is invocation to Lord Hari or Vishnu (hari- dhwani) and the feast begins. In some Satras, there is a tradition of sankirtan or Sabahuwa naam( communal ) at the meji-site after the feast is over. The next morning, the bhakats especially the youths rise at the break of dawn and after performing their morning ablutions and purifying themselves they set to light the meji. A branch of mango tree is lit and is inserted into the meji from the entrance dug in the ground in the eastern direction—and the meji is set afire. After this, of betel nut-paan, different delicacies prepared for Bihu etc. are offered on plantain leaves to the fire in the meji. During the day, agni puja is performed according to Vedic rituals in many Satras—during which the Vaishnavs take part in naam-prasang that extends all through the day. After the agni puja is over, there is ojapali, gayan-bayan, hiya naam, diha naam etc. in the namghar. In many Satras, naam-kirtan extends well into the night.There are several customs and mores associated with Magh Bihu that are observed in the Satras—especially pertaining to food.This includes—eating of kaath aloo( a kind of hard yam ) and mitha aloo(sweet potato), gotkarai or maahkarai [ mixture prepared from newly harvested mati maah(Phaseolus radiatus), bora saul(a kind of rice), til(sesame)] Of course,This gotkarai or maahkarai is first dedicated to the mahaprabhu ;only after that is the gotkarai or maahkarai distributed amidst the inhabitants of the Satra from the manikut ghar.In the preparation of food—including the delicacies of Bihu, the Vaishnav reveals a dexterity that is at par with an average Assamese housewife.
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[published in the journal Quest published by the Vivekananda Kendra Institute of Culture, a Research Centre recognised under the Dibrugarh University]
Ankiya Bhaona
Dr. Pitambar Dev Goswami
(Translated from the Asomiya original by Stuti Goswami)
Ankiya Bhaona comprise one of the strongest foundations of the culture of the Assamese race. With Bhaona as its base, the people of Assam build their moral, spiritual and cultural edifices. Especially in the rural areas, Bhaona is the principal means of imparting knowledge and education. At the same time, it instills in people organizational capacities; for the Bhaona requires participation of a considerable number of persons to take care of its different aspects. Right from the grassroot level to respectable personages of society, Bhaona offers honour and dignity to evryone. It engenders creativity and contributes towards economic upliftment in society.However, the main contribution of the Bhaona is the awakening of Bhagavat Bhakti in the masses. Burnt firewood is of no value; likewise a life without devotion to Lord Krishna too is of no value. The shloka sung by the Gayan –Bayan at the beginning of the Bhaona stresses on this facet of the Bhaona. The same has been supported by the doctrines of Mahapurush Srimanta Shankardev as also by “Udvat Saagor”. The “Mridanga” too reproaches a man with no devotion to Lord Krishna. The shloka is --Jeshang Srimad Jashoda Suta Pada KamaleNasti Bhakti NaraanaangJeshang Aabhiro Kanya Priyo Guno KothoneNaanu Raktaa RasagyaaJeshang Srikrishna Leela LalitaaniSaadoro Naibo KaarnonDhikotwang Dhikotwang DhikotwangKathoyoti Niyotong Kirtonostu Mridanga”At the end of each boson the Sutradhaar (interlocutor) cautions men against drifting away from the path of Krishna Bhakti thus--“Desoho Sunoho Nirantore Hari Boolo Hari”The customs of the Ankiya Bhaona are interesting and highly significant. In all, there are five main elements of the performance of an Ankiya Bhaona. These customs carry forward the objectives of the Bhaona; at the same time they also provide or rasa to the audience, an audience that comprise people from different sections of society; and foster unity amongst the people. The seven elements or rasas are described as thus—“Saptarase Naatoko Rananaa KoroyoSuniyuko Sapta Rasar AnwayoGayana-Bayana Sabe Sabha Jaya KoreSutro Natya Gane Rasikara Mana HoreGeeto Artha Bujibeko Dwijo LabhyaganoBrajabhaasi Bhashako Bujibe Graami LokeSo Mukha Dekhibeko Agya Murho LokoSuddha ba Asuddha Tothapitu Krishna NamoEi Saptarasa naatoko Anupaamo.”The first element of the Ankiya Bhaona is Gayan-Bayan. The principal task of the gayan-bayan is to perform(and demonstrate) the khela or the leela of the Lord. These khela are also known as the dhemali. These dhemali are divided into two categories. They are—Boha Sahini and Utha Sahini. In all there are twelve dhemalis. In Boha Sahini we have hand movement of the Gayan-bayan in accompaniment to the instruments(vadya) and in Utha Sahini we have extensive movement of the feet. Tewai Juti, Saaj are the principal ornaments(alankar) of the Pada Chalana or feet movement. However these ‘ornaments’ are meant not merely to enhance the beauty of the Sahini .They serve to keep pace with the rhythm(tala) as well as maintain ones fitness. Through the ‘bol’ of their instruments(vadya) and their body movement (anga saalon) the Gayan-Bayan express their devotion to the Lord. Mor importantly however these dhemalis serve to create a congenial intellectual environment for the presentation of the Bhaona.Sutra and Natya Charitra: This is the second element of the Ankiya Bhaona. This element concerns body movement (anga sonsaalon) and utterance (bol)of the characters. Through this, it is endeavoured to provide rasa to the audience. Through their body movement (anga sonsaalon),the Sutradhaar(interlocutor) and the characters(Natya Charitra) express their devotion to Lord Krishna ,the reigning deity; and this is a form of worship through bodily movements (angik aradhana).Shloka: In the Ankiya Bhaona, there is profound use of the Sanskrit Shlokas. These shlokas hold for the consideration of the scholars in Sanskrit philosophy. The incorporation of poetic metaphors (kabyik byanjana) in the application of the shlokas is another striking feature of the Ankiya Bhaona.Fourthly, the principal medium of giving expression to the subject matter and description of the environment or context of the Bhaona are the Naandigeet: Bhotima, Poyar, Jhuna, Muktaawoli chanda, Totoi, Sopoi. These geet (songs) generate a musical environment and aestheticism in society. There are different chanda(rhyme) and tala (rhythm) integral to these geet ; thus there are ample evidences of classical elements in these geet.Fifthly, Brajawali is the principal language of the Ankiya Bhaona. A language created out of mixture of Sanskrit, Maithili and ancient Asomiya language, Brajawali is easily comprehensible for the common people; and serves to generate religious feeling and devotion in the masses.The masks are the sixth and a significant part of the performance of an Ankiya Bhaona. The mukha or masks are important for a proper understanding of the theme or substance of the Bhaona especially by the unlettered masses.The seventh and final element of the Ankiya Bhaona is Krishna naam or the name of Lord Krishna. Krishna consciousness and an exposition of the Krishna philosophy is a significant aspect and a prime objective of the Ankiya Bhaona. Krishna naam is one of the main attractions for both the devotees and the aficionados of this art form.In addition to these seven elements, the performance of Ankiya Bhaona entails four other elements. They are—a)Aangik b) Kabyik c)Aharjyo d)SaatwikAangik (i.e. body movement) and kabyik (i.e. songs and poetry) of the Bhaona have been discussed already. Aharjyo is another significant aspect of the Ankiya Bhaona. By Aharjyo, we understand the costume, the paints (i.e. cosmetics), ornaments et al donned by the characters and the various properties or props used by them during the Bhaona. On the other hand, by Satwik we understand the following eight unnatural ‘states’1.Starto i.e. the state of remaining motionless2.Shedojol i.e. perspiration3.Romance or Horipilation4.Bepothu i.e. trembling5.Ashru i.e. tears6.Swarabhed i.e. change of voice7.Boivorno i.e. change of colour8.Proloy i.e. faintingThese eight states provide a specific direction to the acting performances; and serve to provide a distinct form to the understanding or comprehension of the theme or subject matter of the Ankiya Bhaona.Although the Ankiya Bhaona is performed through the aid of the above elements, there are a few associated customs or reeti which too are to be taken under consideration. In the performance of the Ankiya Bhaona, these reeti have their impact on the Ankiya Bhaona and enhance its glory.These are as follows—1.Agnigarh 2. aariya 3. Jor 4. Mohota 5. Bhota saaki 6.Aalok Sajja 7. Dohaar Tholi 8. So Ghar etc.Just as Naandigeet and Naandi shlokas are sung at the beginning of the Bhaona to pay obeisance to the presiding deity and seek blessings in the interests of the Ankiya Bhaona. At the end of the Bhaona too, Mukti Mangal Bhotima is sung to seek forgiveness for any wrong unintentionally done.Thus, the Ankiya Bhaona is performed in a vibrant , respectable and attractive way. With Guru, deu, naam , bhakat incorporated, the Ankiya Bhaona is hardly visible at the national level.
(Translated from the Asomiya original by Stuti Goswami)
Ankiya Bhaona comprise one of the strongest foundations of the culture of the Assamese race. With Bhaona as its base, the people of Assam build their moral, spiritual and cultural edifices. Especially in the rural areas, Bhaona is the principal means of imparting knowledge and education. At the same time, it instills in people organizational capacities; for the Bhaona requires participation of a considerable number of persons to take care of its different aspects. Right from the grassroot level to respectable personages of society, Bhaona offers honour and dignity to evryone. It engenders creativity and contributes towards economic upliftment in society.However, the main contribution of the Bhaona is the awakening of Bhagavat Bhakti in the masses. Burnt firewood is of no value; likewise a life without devotion to Lord Krishna too is of no value. The shloka sung by the Gayan –Bayan at the beginning of the Bhaona stresses on this facet of the Bhaona. The same has been supported by the doctrines of Mahapurush Srimanta Shankardev as also by “Udvat Saagor”. The “Mridanga” too reproaches a man with no devotion to Lord Krishna. The shloka is --Jeshang Srimad Jashoda Suta Pada KamaleNasti Bhakti NaraanaangJeshang Aabhiro Kanya Priyo Guno KothoneNaanu Raktaa RasagyaaJeshang Srikrishna Leela LalitaaniSaadoro Naibo KaarnonDhikotwang Dhikotwang DhikotwangKathoyoti Niyotong Kirtonostu Mridanga”At the end of each boson the Sutradhaar (interlocutor) cautions men against drifting away from the path of Krishna Bhakti thus--“Desoho Sunoho Nirantore Hari Boolo Hari”The customs of the Ankiya Bhaona are interesting and highly significant. In all, there are five main elements of the performance of an Ankiya Bhaona. These customs carry forward the objectives of the Bhaona; at the same time they also provide or rasa to the audience, an audience that comprise people from different sections of society; and foster unity amongst the people. The seven elements or rasas are described as thus—“Saptarase Naatoko Rananaa KoroyoSuniyuko Sapta Rasar AnwayoGayana-Bayana Sabe Sabha Jaya KoreSutro Natya Gane Rasikara Mana HoreGeeto Artha Bujibeko Dwijo LabhyaganoBrajabhaasi Bhashako Bujibe Graami LokeSo Mukha Dekhibeko Agya Murho LokoSuddha ba Asuddha Tothapitu Krishna NamoEi Saptarasa naatoko Anupaamo.”The first element of the Ankiya Bhaona is Gayan-Bayan. The principal task of the gayan-bayan is to perform(and demonstrate) the khela or the leela of the Lord. These khela are also known as the dhemali. These dhemali are divided into two categories. They are—Boha Sahini and Utha Sahini. In all there are twelve dhemalis. In Boha Sahini we have hand movement of the Gayan-bayan in accompaniment to the instruments(vadya) and in Utha Sahini we have extensive movement of the feet. Tewai Juti, Saaj are the principal ornaments(alankar) of the Pada Chalana or feet movement. However these ‘ornaments’ are meant not merely to enhance the beauty of the Sahini .They serve to keep pace with the rhythm(tala) as well as maintain ones fitness. Through the ‘bol’ of their instruments(vadya) and their body movement (anga saalon) the Gayan-Bayan express their devotion to the Lord. Mor importantly however these dhemalis serve to create a congenial intellectual environment for the presentation of the Bhaona.Sutra and Natya Charitra: This is the second element of the Ankiya Bhaona. This element concerns body movement (anga sonsaalon) and utterance (bol)of the characters. Through this, it is endeavoured to provide rasa to the audience. Through their body movement (anga sonsaalon),the Sutradhaar(interlocutor) and the characters(Natya Charitra) express their devotion to Lord Krishna ,the reigning deity; and this is a form of worship through bodily movements (angik aradhana).Shloka: In the Ankiya Bhaona, there is profound use of the Sanskrit Shlokas. These shlokas hold for the consideration of the scholars in Sanskrit philosophy. The incorporation of poetic metaphors (kabyik byanjana) in the application of the shlokas is another striking feature of the Ankiya Bhaona.Fourthly, the principal medium of giving expression to the subject matter and description of the environment or context of the Bhaona are the Naandigeet: Bhotima, Poyar, Jhuna, Muktaawoli chanda, Totoi, Sopoi. These geet (songs) generate a musical environment and aestheticism in society. There are different chanda(rhyme) and tala (rhythm) integral to these geet ; thus there are ample evidences of classical elements in these geet.Fifthly, Brajawali is the principal language of the Ankiya Bhaona. A language created out of mixture of Sanskrit, Maithili and ancient Asomiya language, Brajawali is easily comprehensible for the common people; and serves to generate religious feeling and devotion in the masses.The masks are the sixth and a significant part of the performance of an Ankiya Bhaona. The mukha or masks are important for a proper understanding of the theme or substance of the Bhaona especially by the unlettered masses.The seventh and final element of the Ankiya Bhaona is Krishna naam or the name of Lord Krishna. Krishna consciousness and an exposition of the Krishna philosophy is a significant aspect and a prime objective of the Ankiya Bhaona. Krishna naam is one of the main attractions for both the devotees and the aficionados of this art form.In addition to these seven elements, the performance of Ankiya Bhaona entails four other elements. They are—a)Aangik b) Kabyik c)Aharjyo d)SaatwikAangik (i.e. body movement) and kabyik (i.e. songs and poetry) of the Bhaona have been discussed already. Aharjyo is another significant aspect of the Ankiya Bhaona. By Aharjyo, we understand the costume, the paints (i.e. cosmetics), ornaments et al donned by the characters and the various properties or props used by them during the Bhaona. On the other hand, by Satwik we understand the following eight unnatural ‘states’1.Starto i.e. the state of remaining motionless2.Shedojol i.e. perspiration3.Romance or Horipilation4.Bepothu i.e. trembling5.Ashru i.e. tears6.Swarabhed i.e. change of voice7.Boivorno i.e. change of colour8.Proloy i.e. faintingThese eight states provide a specific direction to the acting performances; and serve to provide a distinct form to the understanding or comprehension of the theme or subject matter of the Ankiya Bhaona.Although the Ankiya Bhaona is performed through the aid of the above elements, there are a few associated customs or reeti which too are to be taken under consideration. In the performance of the Ankiya Bhaona, these reeti have their impact on the Ankiya Bhaona and enhance its glory.These are as follows—1.Agnigarh 2. aariya 3. Jor 4. Mohota 5. Bhota saaki 6.Aalok Sajja 7. Dohaar Tholi 8. So Ghar etc.Just as Naandigeet and Naandi shlokas are sung at the beginning of the Bhaona to pay obeisance to the presiding deity and seek blessings in the interests of the Ankiya Bhaona. At the end of the Bhaona too, Mukti Mangal Bhotima is sung to seek forgiveness for any wrong unintentionally done.Thus, the Ankiya Bhaona is performed in a vibrant , respectable and attractive way. With Guru, deu, naam , bhakat incorporated, the Ankiya Bhaona is hardly visible at the national level.
Monday, September 21, 2009
If
IF...
Atanu Bhattacharjee
(Translated from the original Assamese "Jodi" by Stuti Goswami)
It perhaps could have happened otherwise. … But it happened that way… and a mild excitement resonated all over. It was as though people had suddenly found a new drink to guzzle. The newspapers registered a sudden rise in circulation.
And I pondered over this woman’s destiny. So many changes had come over her life’s journey. Her body—more than that her mind —were to be readied for an uncertain road ahead. Probably it had grown tremendously restless within. Confined to her shed for several days, she now wanted to go out. But she knew not where ……...
Of course things are no longer as simple. . Any moment, a malicious remark might fall upon her ears. Any moment, an offensive yell might pierce her heart. When her mind is working properly, such words pain her no end. It is then, that she silently weeps. But today in all probability//probably that river has dried.
Occasionally, the symptoms (re)surface. During such moments an iskra flares somewhere within her. A blazing wind swirls and attempts to rise inside the caverns of her brain--almost overpowering her with the desire of breaking everything down and plunging into the river to let it swallow her in its folds. But even then, the fierce desire to live lingers. At the last moment, she abandons all thoughts of annihilation.
Frantically she runs. Stones in hand, a swarm of school boys run after her. The street dogs too join in the chase. Her soiled clothes fly irreverently in the wind as she runs faster to save herself from this assault of stones and barks. Her unkempt long tresses fly wildly behind her.
In time, tired and out of breath, the woman lurches onto the verandah of the decrepit post office.
Presently, she is contemplating a stroll on the streets like the other respectable dwellers of the city. Somehow, she is reminded of Alaka Baideo. That day when she had first visited her, along with some others, Alaka Baideo had handed her a handful of notes. That money is still there—tied into a bundle at one end of her soiled saador. Nearing the bazaar, she even feels like buying herself something to eat. But I suppose she won’t be able to do anything of that sort. The man at the cash-counter would be in a hurry to send her away with a stale bit of bread or some leftovers. Apparently, there is some difficulty in letting this woman mingle with the crowd that can afford to spend money on itself.
Probably the same thought came over her as well; (for) at once she withdrew from the vicinity of the sweet shop she was approaching. However, her attention was suddenly riveted by a photograph on the front page of a newspaper hanging in one of the stationary shops nearby. For a moment there was a glint// a glint passed over her face. It had been ages since she saw herself in the mirror. Still it wasn’t difficult for her to recognize her own photograph.
Scars left behind by chicken pox on her pale withered face figure prominently in the photograph. Her eyes, pale like a dead fish’s, reveal the want of proper food and healthy environment in her life. In the photograph, her eyes have a haunting look…a frenzied expression, that one confronts in horror stories. Encompassing that hysteria are some powerful letters… nay, devouring flames of fire in the form of letters …Of course, that fire can no longer harm her.
That day when the girl from the newspaper had arrived to cover the news, she had brought along with her a camera. She had taken out her notebook and asked many questions. Occasionally her mobile had beeped. The voice at the other end had stressed that this was a scoop-news with incredible news-value. The girl too must have realized that this incident had tremendous news-value and that everything depended on a proper presentation.
Four months ago, in a shack in a isolated corner of the city, an injustice has been committed on this woman. For three months, this felony—like so many others the world over —had not seen the light of day. And then, the misfortune began. The woman’s enlarging belly gradually began attracting attention. The searching eye of a multitude generated a massive wave of curiosity. Today, a question suspends in mid-air.
Someone is heard ruing —“humanity is dying a sad death.”
“Such culprits should be dragged through the streets and feted with sandals”, someone thrusts his rapier into airy nothingness
A third remarks, “men are not to be trusted anymore”
A fourth prophesizes out of experience—“What’s the use? Few days on, people will forget all this and life will go on.”
Comprehending all this, my sixth sense paints me a frightening future. I fear lest this woman chooses the path of suicide. Yet I have not discerned in her any sign that might substantiate my fear.
In the meanwhile, the symptoms have recurred frequently. On several occasions, she has had to run for life, to save herself from the assault of youths and barking dogs. Out of breath from running long, she seeks refuge in the verandah of some empty school building or a dilapidated post office. Out of sheer pity, if someone has thrown a roti or two her way, she has devoured that with utter relish. Yet , her mind is still working properly to not feel like gnawing at the roti thrown on the ground.
That day, Alaka Baideo and her friends had been nice to her. They told her they came//had come from a Mahila Ayog formed by the Government to work especially for women like her. She was told that there exists in this world a ferocious beast called man who has --like all other beasts- piercing nails and teeth. Of course she couldn’t understand why Alaka Baideo’s friends had brought along a video camera with them.
These days, curiosity fills every eye that inundates the roads. Surprisingly, no one seems interested in hurling stones or abuses at her. If not anything else, the newspapers have at least given her, albeit indirectly, a respectability. This case of wrong done to a mentally deranged woman in the dark of the night has been taken seriously.
One day, a group of students comes to her and tells her reassuringly, “Do not fear. We are with you”,
One day, a group of men in kurta-pyjamas approaches her and tells her—“Do not worry. We are with you.”
With time however it is getting increasingly blurred as to who stands beside whom. The kurta-pyjama party has claimed that the accused belongs to the party in power. Whereas, the most powerful leader of that party has termed such accusations as part of a conspiracy to dent the image of his party.
In a subsequent issue, the newspaper has carried a/the photograph of a wane faced rickshaw puller. According to them, this man is responsible for the crime. However, refusing to leave the matter halfway through, they have requested the readership to look forward to the next issue where they promise to satisfy the reader’s curiosity with the confessional statement of the accused along with a detailed report.
Amidst all this, the police came to her with the photograph published in the newspaper. Maintaining a safe distance, two women constables became anxious to start their interrogation… Seeing the photograph however , the woman suddenly became livid. It was as though a squirt of hot air burst out of her sanity , raging in a tornado inside the caverns of her brain. As though one possessed, she started running bizarrely-- like a mad horse.
Not in the verandah of a post-office, not in a school, this time the woman found refuge in the lock-up of a police station. But then it is inconvenient for the Government to provide shelter to such people. For one, supporting such people for a long time entails considerable expenses. Secondly, the Police thana is vulnerable from regular intrusions of precarious people as television reporters and women’s rights activists. Eventually the woman was returned to her hovel...
For several days now, she has been holed-up in the darkness like a frightened bug, rusty knife in hand, sitting on the edge of her broken cot. Three young men from a local NGO has had to return without seeing her. The freelance journalist from a women’s magazine who had hoped to do a cover story on her has had to return without seeing her.
And I ponder as to what would have happened had this befallen a beautiful, rich young woman instead of this diseased, helpless, lonely woman. What would have happened had this incident occurred, not in these dirty, stinking surroundings but in the soft velvety bed in some posh locale. What would have happened had that newspaper journalist found herself at the centre of such a betrayal?... or had it been Alaka Baideo’s college-going daughter…?
Nah!! It is futile thinking all these things anymore…
I came to know that, owing to the untiring efforts of the Mahila Ayog the Government has promised financial assistance to this ill-fated woman. Consequently, Alaka Baideo and her associates are extremely busy these days. However, it has been reported in sections of the media that a rift has already appeared within the Mahila Ayog over this money…
Is there nobody on whom one can repose some faith? I question myself indignantly. Of course I noted that the lady had no such indignation writ on her face. Presently, she walks underneath the open sky… unhurried, deep in thought. I try to gauge. Where is she heading to? Alaka Baideo’s residence? The newspaper office?.
The woman cannot decide. She loiters about the streets aimlessly. Tired, she rests awhile on the steps of a mandir. Seeing her condition a devout-looking man hands her some Prasad to eat. Eventually she returns to her hovel.
Outside, the storm is still raging. The supposed confessional statement might be someone’s making! Someone might even have allured him with money to forcibly frame charges against him? The concerned denizens of the city have written to the editor of the newspaper demanding a proper enquiry into nabbing of the real culprit. A city-based Rehabilitation centre that shelters such woman is trying its utmost to take her under its care. But will Alaka Baideo’s group will allow this case to slip out of its hands?
This matter has been further complicated by something else, that is currently causing much agitation. It is feared if the rickshaw puller is proven guilty, (keeping religious considerations in mind) the city might break into communal outburst. A fundamentalist organization has already threatened against this woman delivering her child.
It saddened me to see that this woman is mentally unhinged to comprehend these issues. At the same time, it reassured me to see that her present condition would at least enable her to leave this world silently— unaware of the many bitter truths of life. These earthly pain and disillusionments will not bother her as much as the civilized denizens of society accustomed to a normal way of life.
For several days on end she has been trying in vain to catch some sleep on her broken bed. In her present condition, she badly needs some rest. But, does she sleep peacefully? Does she ever dream?
I can make out that she is dreaming a dream. In her dream, a shadowy figure approaches her and stands right next to her. A face—indistinct yet discernible—stoops close to her scarred face... and she screams—“do not draw near…do not touch me”.
The face that resembles the one in the newspaper speaks, in a hushed tone—“but in the end, you embraced me too, didn’t you?”
I notice that even in her dream, the woman shrinks in embarrassment....
This means (that) even in the midst of an injustice, a mishap this woman has had her moment of bliss, one that she would probably never have had in any other way. Thus, there was no likelihood that it could have happened otherwise.
With my sixth sense I sought to feel the soul of this mentally disturbed woman—unhinged and deteriorating. I helplessly endeavored to fathom the depths of her silences …the tempest raging within her. To me, the world appeared insufferably ugly. I felt as though , with each passing day, it is growing ever more difficult to survive in this world. Yet, beneath this desolation I also realized that, one moment of happiness can sustain life in this bleak world.
Deep in slumber, the woman gently touched the bloated belly…
That one touch shook me up all of a sudden. I-- the life attaining contours inside her womb, felt my veins fill with love inside my as-yet unformed body.
And I decided that I shall be born. Leaving all hazards far behind, one day—I shall take in my first gulp of air under the open sky. With all of my five senses I shall feel and enjoy the sights—sounds—essences of this beautiful world.
And One day, before long, I shall embrace an ailing, helpless woman in a decrepit hut…and speak to her, “Maa”.
Published on 21-09-2009 in the Durga Puja special edition on 'melange' the Sunday Supplementary magazine of 'The Sentinel'
-- ---------x-------------
Atanu Bhattacharjee
(Translated from the original Assamese "Jodi" by Stuti Goswami)
It perhaps could have happened otherwise. … But it happened that way… and a mild excitement resonated all over. It was as though people had suddenly found a new drink to guzzle. The newspapers registered a sudden rise in circulation.
And I pondered over this woman’s destiny. So many changes had come over her life’s journey. Her body—more than that her mind —were to be readied for an uncertain road ahead. Probably it had grown tremendously restless within. Confined to her shed for several days, she now wanted to go out. But she knew not where ……...
Of course things are no longer as simple. . Any moment, a malicious remark might fall upon her ears. Any moment, an offensive yell might pierce her heart. When her mind is working properly, such words pain her no end. It is then, that she silently weeps. But today in all probability//probably that river has dried.
Occasionally, the symptoms (re)surface. During such moments an iskra flares somewhere within her. A blazing wind swirls and attempts to rise inside the caverns of her brain--almost overpowering her with the desire of breaking everything down and plunging into the river to let it swallow her in its folds. But even then, the fierce desire to live lingers. At the last moment, she abandons all thoughts of annihilation.
Frantically she runs. Stones in hand, a swarm of school boys run after her. The street dogs too join in the chase. Her soiled clothes fly irreverently in the wind as she runs faster to save herself from this assault of stones and barks. Her unkempt long tresses fly wildly behind her.
In time, tired and out of breath, the woman lurches onto the verandah of the decrepit post office.
Presently, she is contemplating a stroll on the streets like the other respectable dwellers of the city. Somehow, she is reminded of Alaka Baideo. That day when she had first visited her, along with some others, Alaka Baideo had handed her a handful of notes. That money is still there—tied into a bundle at one end of her soiled saador. Nearing the bazaar, she even feels like buying herself something to eat. But I suppose she won’t be able to do anything of that sort. The man at the cash-counter would be in a hurry to send her away with a stale bit of bread or some leftovers. Apparently, there is some difficulty in letting this woman mingle with the crowd that can afford to spend money on itself.
Probably the same thought came over her as well; (for) at once she withdrew from the vicinity of the sweet shop she was approaching. However, her attention was suddenly riveted by a photograph on the front page of a newspaper hanging in one of the stationary shops nearby. For a moment there was a glint// a glint passed over her face. It had been ages since she saw herself in the mirror. Still it wasn’t difficult for her to recognize her own photograph.
Scars left behind by chicken pox on her pale withered face figure prominently in the photograph. Her eyes, pale like a dead fish’s, reveal the want of proper food and healthy environment in her life. In the photograph, her eyes have a haunting look…a frenzied expression, that one confronts in horror stories. Encompassing that hysteria are some powerful letters… nay, devouring flames of fire in the form of letters …Of course, that fire can no longer harm her.
That day when the girl from the newspaper had arrived to cover the news, she had brought along with her a camera. She had taken out her notebook and asked many questions. Occasionally her mobile had beeped. The voice at the other end had stressed that this was a scoop-news with incredible news-value. The girl too must have realized that this incident had tremendous news-value and that everything depended on a proper presentation.
Four months ago, in a shack in a isolated corner of the city, an injustice has been committed on this woman. For three months, this felony—like so many others the world over —had not seen the light of day. And then, the misfortune began. The woman’s enlarging belly gradually began attracting attention. The searching eye of a multitude generated a massive wave of curiosity. Today, a question suspends in mid-air.
Someone is heard ruing —“humanity is dying a sad death.”
“Such culprits should be dragged through the streets and feted with sandals”, someone thrusts his rapier into airy nothingness
A third remarks, “men are not to be trusted anymore”
A fourth prophesizes out of experience—“What’s the use? Few days on, people will forget all this and life will go on.”
Comprehending all this, my sixth sense paints me a frightening future. I fear lest this woman chooses the path of suicide. Yet I have not discerned in her any sign that might substantiate my fear.
In the meanwhile, the symptoms have recurred frequently. On several occasions, she has had to run for life, to save herself from the assault of youths and barking dogs. Out of breath from running long, she seeks refuge in the verandah of some empty school building or a dilapidated post office. Out of sheer pity, if someone has thrown a roti or two her way, she has devoured that with utter relish. Yet , her mind is still working properly to not feel like gnawing at the roti thrown on the ground.
That day, Alaka Baideo and her friends had been nice to her. They told her they came//had come from a Mahila Ayog formed by the Government to work especially for women like her. She was told that there exists in this world a ferocious beast called man who has --like all other beasts- piercing nails and teeth. Of course she couldn’t understand why Alaka Baideo’s friends had brought along a video camera with them.
These days, curiosity fills every eye that inundates the roads. Surprisingly, no one seems interested in hurling stones or abuses at her. If not anything else, the newspapers have at least given her, albeit indirectly, a respectability. This case of wrong done to a mentally deranged woman in the dark of the night has been taken seriously.
One day, a group of students comes to her and tells her reassuringly, “Do not fear. We are with you”,
One day, a group of men in kurta-pyjamas approaches her and tells her—“Do not worry. We are with you.”
With time however it is getting increasingly blurred as to who stands beside whom. The kurta-pyjama party has claimed that the accused belongs to the party in power. Whereas, the most powerful leader of that party has termed such accusations as part of a conspiracy to dent the image of his party.
In a subsequent issue, the newspaper has carried a/the photograph of a wane faced rickshaw puller. According to them, this man is responsible for the crime. However, refusing to leave the matter halfway through, they have requested the readership to look forward to the next issue where they promise to satisfy the reader’s curiosity with the confessional statement of the accused along with a detailed report.
Amidst all this, the police came to her with the photograph published in the newspaper. Maintaining a safe distance, two women constables became anxious to start their interrogation… Seeing the photograph however , the woman suddenly became livid. It was as though a squirt of hot air burst out of her sanity , raging in a tornado inside the caverns of her brain. As though one possessed, she started running bizarrely-- like a mad horse.
Not in the verandah of a post-office, not in a school, this time the woman found refuge in the lock-up of a police station. But then it is inconvenient for the Government to provide shelter to such people. For one, supporting such people for a long time entails considerable expenses. Secondly, the Police thana is vulnerable from regular intrusions of precarious people as television reporters and women’s rights activists. Eventually the woman was returned to her hovel...
For several days now, she has been holed-up in the darkness like a frightened bug, rusty knife in hand, sitting on the edge of her broken cot. Three young men from a local NGO has had to return without seeing her. The freelance journalist from a women’s magazine who had hoped to do a cover story on her has had to return without seeing her.
And I ponder as to what would have happened had this befallen a beautiful, rich young woman instead of this diseased, helpless, lonely woman. What would have happened had this incident occurred, not in these dirty, stinking surroundings but in the soft velvety bed in some posh locale. What would have happened had that newspaper journalist found herself at the centre of such a betrayal?... or had it been Alaka Baideo’s college-going daughter…?
Nah!! It is futile thinking all these things anymore…
I came to know that, owing to the untiring efforts of the Mahila Ayog the Government has promised financial assistance to this ill-fated woman. Consequently, Alaka Baideo and her associates are extremely busy these days. However, it has been reported in sections of the media that a rift has already appeared within the Mahila Ayog over this money…
Is there nobody on whom one can repose some faith? I question myself indignantly. Of course I noted that the lady had no such indignation writ on her face. Presently, she walks underneath the open sky… unhurried, deep in thought. I try to gauge. Where is she heading to? Alaka Baideo’s residence? The newspaper office?.
The woman cannot decide. She loiters about the streets aimlessly. Tired, she rests awhile on the steps of a mandir. Seeing her condition a devout-looking man hands her some Prasad to eat. Eventually she returns to her hovel.
Outside, the storm is still raging. The supposed confessional statement might be someone’s making! Someone might even have allured him with money to forcibly frame charges against him? The concerned denizens of the city have written to the editor of the newspaper demanding a proper enquiry into nabbing of the real culprit. A city-based Rehabilitation centre that shelters such woman is trying its utmost to take her under its care. But will Alaka Baideo’s group will allow this case to slip out of its hands?
This matter has been further complicated by something else, that is currently causing much agitation. It is feared if the rickshaw puller is proven guilty, (keeping religious considerations in mind) the city might break into communal outburst. A fundamentalist organization has already threatened against this woman delivering her child.
It saddened me to see that this woman is mentally unhinged to comprehend these issues. At the same time, it reassured me to see that her present condition would at least enable her to leave this world silently— unaware of the many bitter truths of life. These earthly pain and disillusionments will not bother her as much as the civilized denizens of society accustomed to a normal way of life.
For several days on end she has been trying in vain to catch some sleep on her broken bed. In her present condition, she badly needs some rest. But, does she sleep peacefully? Does she ever dream?
I can make out that she is dreaming a dream. In her dream, a shadowy figure approaches her and stands right next to her. A face—indistinct yet discernible—stoops close to her scarred face... and she screams—“do not draw near…do not touch me”.
The face that resembles the one in the newspaper speaks, in a hushed tone—“but in the end, you embraced me too, didn’t you?”
I notice that even in her dream, the woman shrinks in embarrassment....
This means (that) even in the midst of an injustice, a mishap this woman has had her moment of bliss, one that she would probably never have had in any other way. Thus, there was no likelihood that it could have happened otherwise.
With my sixth sense I sought to feel the soul of this mentally disturbed woman—unhinged and deteriorating. I helplessly endeavored to fathom the depths of her silences …the tempest raging within her. To me, the world appeared insufferably ugly. I felt as though , with each passing day, it is growing ever more difficult to survive in this world. Yet, beneath this desolation I also realized that, one moment of happiness can sustain life in this bleak world.
Deep in slumber, the woman gently touched the bloated belly…
That one touch shook me up all of a sudden. I-- the life attaining contours inside her womb, felt my veins fill with love inside my as-yet unformed body.
And I decided that I shall be born. Leaving all hazards far behind, one day—I shall take in my first gulp of air under the open sky. With all of my five senses I shall feel and enjoy the sights—sounds—essences of this beautiful world.
And One day, before long, I shall embrace an ailing, helpless woman in a decrepit hut…and speak to her, “Maa”.
Published on 21-09-2009 in the Durga Puja special edition on 'melange' the Sunday Supplementary magazine of 'The Sentinel'
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Thursday, July 23, 2009
Geet-Gobinda
Dr. Sri Sri Pitambar Dev Goswami
Born in a village called Kendu Bilwa on the banks of the river Ajay in district Beerbhum in present-day Orissa Jaidev the composer of Geet Gobinda was the son of Bhojdev and Bamadevi.
At a very young age, Jaidev Goswami took celibacy and left his native village of Kendu Bilwa for the holy shrine of Shri Shri Jagannath Mahaprabhu in Puri. Moved at his intense devotion and dedication for the Bhagawat, the ruler of Utkal as a mark of respect to Jaidev made him a poet in his court. Lord Jagannath too was greatly pleased at the intense devotion and dedication of his devotee. Although he had chosen the life of a celibate, Jaidev eventually married a devout lady by the name of Padmawati. There is however an interesting story in this regard. It so happened that once a childless Brahman couple offering their prayers to the Lord Jagannath entreated for a child, at the same time as they (also) gave their word(before the Lord) that they would give up their first born to serve the Lord. Soon afterwards, the couple was blessed with a girl child. When she came of age, fulfilling their pledge, the couple placed their daughter (whom they had named Padmawati) at the Lord's feet. Won over by the girl's devotion, Lord Jagannath realised that Padmawati would be the ideal partner for the pious Jaidev. Consequently, the Lord appeared in the Brahman's dreams and commanded him to marry their daughter to Jaidev. Following the Lord's command, Padmawati's parents set off in search of Jaidev. However, when he heard of this Jaidev refused to marry Padmawati, for he was a celibate. The couple insisted that they were doing so at the directive of Lord Jagannath Himself. Even then, when Jaidev refused to comply with their request Padmawati's parents unable to decide anything left their daughter at Jaidev's place; for they could under no circumstance, disobey the Lord. Jaidev's parents Bhojdev and Bamadevi were now in a dilemma. They asked Padmawati as to what she intended to do now that she was left behind by her parents while Jaidev had already spurned her. She replied that following the command of Lord Jagannath since her parents had left her with Jaidev; hence, he was her husband (swami), teacher (guru) and master (devta). She would not leave Jaidev's side for the world. When he heard Padmawati speak thus, he could no longer refuse her. Tying the knot with Padmawati Jaidev left the life of celibacy and became a worldly man.
A few days later, Lord Jagannath appeared in Jaidev's trance. Following the Lord's directive, Jaidev along with his wife Padmawati returned to his native village of Kenduli in Beerbhum and devoted himself to the worship of the deity of Radha-Madhab, which was in fact a partial incarnation of Lord Jagannath. The husband-wife duo devoted themselves totally to the worship of the Lord, their hearts overflowing with veneration for the Almighty.
Jaidev was well versed with the Bhakti shatra. Impressed with his immense knowledge as also his talent, Lakshman Sen, the ruler of Gour, made Jaidev the Poet-Laureate of his court. Thus, comfortably settled in the worldly sense, Jaidev dedicated himself to the worship of the deity of Radha-Madhab and soon brought out the verse work Shri Gobinda. In the knowledge of the Sanskrit language as also in the knowledge of the verses and in music, Jaidev and Padmawati were unparalleled. Jaidev's stature in music can be easily gauged by the following incident: it so happened that once there was a great Brahman singer by the name of Burha Mishra. One day, performing at the court of Lakshman Sen, Burha Mishra garnered the admiration of the entire court including the king. Because he had managed to achieve great feats through the sheer power of his music, the king was on the verge of offering him the great honour of Sangeet Sadhak, when Jaidev appeared on the scene and stated that what Burha Mishra had achieved was in reality no extraordinary feat. The Brahman singer had, while singing made the trees shed their leaves. However, Jaidev reasoned the shedding of leaves by the trees was a natural occurrence at that time of the year since it was the advent of the spring season. Through his music Jaidev then made new leaves appear on the branches of the now barren trees, leaving everybody including the king stunned at his feat. Convinced of his greatness as a singer, King Lakshman Sen then bestowed the honour of the greatest singer onto Jaidev.
Upon completing his Geet-Gobinda, Jaidev went to the holy shrine of Jagannath Puri and dedicated this work to Shri Shri Jagannath Mahaprabhu. The songs and verses of this epic soon became highly popular among the devotees; the popularity spread all around and was accepted and approved of by the aficionados. The devotional Shri Gobinda Geet resonated all through the religious world.
Once it so happened that a malini, all by herself, was singing the Geet Gobinda in a garden with all her devotion. The melody of the verses added to her devotion gave rise to a symphony so mellifluous that the Lord Jagannath Himself came down to the earth, and entering the garden, listened to the melodious devotional songs, mesmerized. The Lord was so enchanted by her melodious rendition that He became oblivious to the happenings around him, to an extent that he was unaware of his attire being soiled with dust and thorns. The moment he heard of this, the ruler of Orissa sent a palanquin to bring the malini to the temple and made her sing the Geet Gobinda before the deity of Lord Jagannath; and this he made her do every morning . Thus began the tradition of singing the Geet Gobinda every morning at the Jagannath temple. Today, without beginning the day with a recital of the Geet Gobinda, the Jagannath prayers are considered incomplete. Also, at the time of initiating this tradition in the hallowed Jagannath temple, the king of Utkal (Orissa) made it a rule that the Geet Gobinda will no longer be recited in unholy places and in the roads and streets but only in those places that have the deities of Jagannath and Gobinda. This was done such that Lord Jagannath does not have to go anywhere to listen to these devotional songs.
About four hundred years ago, Gobinda Mahaprabhu came to Upper Assam and was consecrated at Auniati Satra. And ever since, the custom of recital of the Geet Gobinda at the Jagannath shrine has been in existence at the Auniati Satra with as much fervour and devotion...Hence, even today the Vaishnavs of the Satra render the holy songs before the Godhead to its fullest perfection keeping in view the Taal, raag etc...Just as the Geet Gobinda is sung in the Jagannath temple first thing in the morning before offering any prayers to the Almighty, in the Auniati Satra as well rendering the Geet Gobinda as the morning prayers is a time-honoured custom. The first stanza of these devotional songs glorifying the greatness of Gobinda, composed in Sanskrit is the panegyric called Dashawatar stotra. This stotra is still sung to the accompaniment of the Dashawatar Nritya (dance) in the said Satra. It is worth mentioning that in the present times this is the sole Satra to continue the study and research as well as the tradition of performance of the Dashawatar Nritya. This is not only a custom, which the Satra is carrying forward; on the contrary, this has had a significant influence on the Sattriya tradition of song, dance and drama. This is especially so in the Sattriya song and drama forms, where there has been incorporation of Sanskrit terms/words and certain definite taalas and raagas of Geet Gobinda. Thus, there are many verses, which have been composed in the Satra following the precedents of the Geet Gobinda, and these are in preserved form in the Satra: even today, there is much research going on in this field... Some of the Sanskrit Dashawatar verses of the Geet Gobinda which have been much researched upon in the Satra will be performed here. Also, a few of the songs of the Geet Gobinda will be played today. Following is an analysis of each of the Stotras of Dashawatar:
Geet Gobindam Dashawatar Stotra
Malav Gouro-Rupak Taal
1. Pralaya Prayudhi Jole Dhritobanoxi Vedang
Bihito Bahitra Charitramakhedom
Keshavadhrito Meeno Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a fish; and
in the stormy waters, like a boat swam easily rescued the Vedas. This is your greatness. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
2. Khitiroti Bipulotore Tisthoti Tobo Pristhe
Dhoroni Dhoreno Kino Sokro Goristhe
Keshaba Dhrito Kossopo Rupo
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava you who have assumed the form of a tortoise; in the broad expanse of your back, the world rests, and you assumed this form solely to hold the world. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
3. Boxoti Doxono Sikhore Dharani Tobo Lagna
Sosini kolonko Kolebo Nimogna
Keshaba Dhrito Sukoro Rupo
Jagadisho Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a pig; just as the moon signifies the notion of being scarred, you too by holding the world by your teeth. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
4. Tobo Kore Kamala Bore Nokhomodbhuto Dosringong
Dolito Hironyokoshipu Tonu Bhringomo
Keshaba Dhrito Narahari Rupo
Jaya jagadisha hare.
O lord you who have assumed the form of Narasingha; with the sharp nails of your hand, you ripped apart the body of Hironyokoshipu. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
5.Soloyoxi Bikromone Bolimodbhuto Bamano
Podo nokho niroJonito Jono Pabono
Keshaba Dhrito Bamono Rupo
Jaya Jogodisho Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a Bamono (a dwarf); you who have connived against the King Boli through your glory. And with the water washed off your feet you have sanctified the people. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
6. Khyotriyorudhiromoye Jogodopogoto Papong
Poyoxi Xomito Bhobo Tapom
Keshaba Dhrito Bhrigupotirupo
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Bhrigupoti (another name for Parasurama); you cleansed the world of evil (paap) by demolishing the Khyatriyos. However prior to that, bathing in holy Kurukshetra you had calmed the Bhava-taap (fire/heat of Siva's anger) within you...therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
7. Bitorosi Dikhyorone Dikpoti Romoniyong
Doxomukho MouliBoling Romoniyom
Keshaba Dhrito Ramo Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Rama; you had offered the ten beautiful heads of Dashanan (Ravana) as a sacrifice to the Devatas. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
8. Bahaxi Bapusi Bishada Basam Jaldavang
Halahati Bhiti Milito Jamunabhom
Keshaba Dhrito haladhar Rupo
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a Haladhar (Balaram, holding a plough); we entreat you to put on, on your massive body the cloudy attire of the river Yamuna tinged with the bluish hue. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
9. Nindoxi Jogyo Bidherohoho Shruti Jatong
Sadaya Hridaya Dorxito Poxughatom
Keshaba Dhrito Buddha Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Buddha; your benign heart pains at the philosophy of animal sacrifice, so you criticise the Vedic yagyas. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
10. Mlesso Niboho NidhoneKalayaxi Karaalam
Dhumketu miboKimopi Koralom
Keshava Dhrito Kolki Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who assume the form of Kolki; we entreat you to alight on this earth, bearing a Koral Axi (sword) in hand, and demolish all the barbarians. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
It is our sincerest and earnest desire that there should be extensive publicity of the raagas, taalas, tunes and verses of the Geet Gobinda. For it is only that way that we have a beautiful identity of the devotional literature of Vaishnavism.
In all, there are 24 songs in the Geet Gobinda. Composed in Sanskrit, it has been divided into twelve chapters. Each chapter incorporates the following topics, raagas, and taalas:
Topic Raag Taal
1st chapter Saamod-Daamodar Malev Gour Rupak
2nd chapter Aklesh Keshava Sujari Nihsaar
3rd chapter Mugdha Madhusudon Basanta Joti
4th chapter Snigdho Madhusudon Baamkiri Joti
5th chapter Saakanka Pundori Kaakhyo Gujjori Joti
6thchapter Dhristo Boikuntho Maalav Gour Ektaal
7th chapter Naagar Narayan Gujjori Joti
8th chapter Bilakhya Lakhmi Pati Kanati Ektaal
9th chapter Mugdho Mukundo Desaashyo Ektaal
10th chapter Mugdho Madhab Boraari Rupak
11thchapter Saananda Gobindo Gujori Ektaal
12thchapter Suprito Pitaambor Gunokaari Rupak.
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(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami. This paper was presented in a convocation at Utkal University, Orissa)
Dr. Sri Sri Pitambar Dev Goswami
Born in a village called Kendu Bilwa on the banks of the river Ajay in district Beerbhum in present-day Orissa Jaidev the composer of Geet Gobinda was the son of Bhojdev and Bamadevi.
At a very young age, Jaidev Goswami took celibacy and left his native village of Kendu Bilwa for the holy shrine of Shri Shri Jagannath Mahaprabhu in Puri. Moved at his intense devotion and dedication for the Bhagawat, the ruler of Utkal as a mark of respect to Jaidev made him a poet in his court. Lord Jagannath too was greatly pleased at the intense devotion and dedication of his devotee. Although he had chosen the life of a celibate, Jaidev eventually married a devout lady by the name of Padmawati. There is however an interesting story in this regard. It so happened that once a childless Brahman couple offering their prayers to the Lord Jagannath entreated for a child, at the same time as they (also) gave their word(before the Lord) that they would give up their first born to serve the Lord. Soon afterwards, the couple was blessed with a girl child. When she came of age, fulfilling their pledge, the couple placed their daughter (whom they had named Padmawati) at the Lord's feet. Won over by the girl's devotion, Lord Jagannath realised that Padmawati would be the ideal partner for the pious Jaidev. Consequently, the Lord appeared in the Brahman's dreams and commanded him to marry their daughter to Jaidev. Following the Lord's command, Padmawati's parents set off in search of Jaidev. However, when he heard of this Jaidev refused to marry Padmawati, for he was a celibate. The couple insisted that they were doing so at the directive of Lord Jagannath Himself. Even then, when Jaidev refused to comply with their request Padmawati's parents unable to decide anything left their daughter at Jaidev's place; for they could under no circumstance, disobey the Lord. Jaidev's parents Bhojdev and Bamadevi were now in a dilemma. They asked Padmawati as to what she intended to do now that she was left behind by her parents while Jaidev had already spurned her. She replied that following the command of Lord Jagannath since her parents had left her with Jaidev; hence, he was her husband (swami), teacher (guru) and master (devta). She would not leave Jaidev's side for the world. When he heard Padmawati speak thus, he could no longer refuse her. Tying the knot with Padmawati Jaidev left the life of celibacy and became a worldly man.
A few days later, Lord Jagannath appeared in Jaidev's trance. Following the Lord's directive, Jaidev along with his wife Padmawati returned to his native village of Kenduli in Beerbhum and devoted himself to the worship of the deity of Radha-Madhab, which was in fact a partial incarnation of Lord Jagannath. The husband-wife duo devoted themselves totally to the worship of the Lord, their hearts overflowing with veneration for the Almighty.
Jaidev was well versed with the Bhakti shatra. Impressed with his immense knowledge as also his talent, Lakshman Sen, the ruler of Gour, made Jaidev the Poet-Laureate of his court. Thus, comfortably settled in the worldly sense, Jaidev dedicated himself to the worship of the deity of Radha-Madhab and soon brought out the verse work Shri Gobinda. In the knowledge of the Sanskrit language as also in the knowledge of the verses and in music, Jaidev and Padmawati were unparalleled. Jaidev's stature in music can be easily gauged by the following incident: it so happened that once there was a great Brahman singer by the name of Burha Mishra. One day, performing at the court of Lakshman Sen, Burha Mishra garnered the admiration of the entire court including the king. Because he had managed to achieve great feats through the sheer power of his music, the king was on the verge of offering him the great honour of Sangeet Sadhak, when Jaidev appeared on the scene and stated that what Burha Mishra had achieved was in reality no extraordinary feat. The Brahman singer had, while singing made the trees shed their leaves. However, Jaidev reasoned the shedding of leaves by the trees was a natural occurrence at that time of the year since it was the advent of the spring season. Through his music Jaidev then made new leaves appear on the branches of the now barren trees, leaving everybody including the king stunned at his feat. Convinced of his greatness as a singer, King Lakshman Sen then bestowed the honour of the greatest singer onto Jaidev.
Upon completing his Geet-Gobinda, Jaidev went to the holy shrine of Jagannath Puri and dedicated this work to Shri Shri Jagannath Mahaprabhu. The songs and verses of this epic soon became highly popular among the devotees; the popularity spread all around and was accepted and approved of by the aficionados. The devotional Shri Gobinda Geet resonated all through the religious world.
Once it so happened that a malini, all by herself, was singing the Geet Gobinda in a garden with all her devotion. The melody of the verses added to her devotion gave rise to a symphony so mellifluous that the Lord Jagannath Himself came down to the earth, and entering the garden, listened to the melodious devotional songs, mesmerized. The Lord was so enchanted by her melodious rendition that He became oblivious to the happenings around him, to an extent that he was unaware of his attire being soiled with dust and thorns. The moment he heard of this, the ruler of Orissa sent a palanquin to bring the malini to the temple and made her sing the Geet Gobinda before the deity of Lord Jagannath; and this he made her do every morning . Thus began the tradition of singing the Geet Gobinda every morning at the Jagannath temple. Today, without beginning the day with a recital of the Geet Gobinda, the Jagannath prayers are considered incomplete. Also, at the time of initiating this tradition in the hallowed Jagannath temple, the king of Utkal (Orissa) made it a rule that the Geet Gobinda will no longer be recited in unholy places and in the roads and streets but only in those places that have the deities of Jagannath and Gobinda. This was done such that Lord Jagannath does not have to go anywhere to listen to these devotional songs.
About four hundred years ago, Gobinda Mahaprabhu came to Upper Assam and was consecrated at Auniati Satra. And ever since, the custom of recital of the Geet Gobinda at the Jagannath shrine has been in existence at the Auniati Satra with as much fervour and devotion...Hence, even today the Vaishnavs of the Satra render the holy songs before the Godhead to its fullest perfection keeping in view the Taal, raag etc...Just as the Geet Gobinda is sung in the Jagannath temple first thing in the morning before offering any prayers to the Almighty, in the Auniati Satra as well rendering the Geet Gobinda as the morning prayers is a time-honoured custom. The first stanza of these devotional songs glorifying the greatness of Gobinda, composed in Sanskrit is the panegyric called Dashawatar stotra. This stotra is still sung to the accompaniment of the Dashawatar Nritya (dance) in the said Satra. It is worth mentioning that in the present times this is the sole Satra to continue the study and research as well as the tradition of performance of the Dashawatar Nritya. This is not only a custom, which the Satra is carrying forward; on the contrary, this has had a significant influence on the Sattriya tradition of song, dance and drama. This is especially so in the Sattriya song and drama forms, where there has been incorporation of Sanskrit terms/words and certain definite taalas and raagas of Geet Gobinda. Thus, there are many verses, which have been composed in the Satra following the precedents of the Geet Gobinda, and these are in preserved form in the Satra: even today, there is much research going on in this field... Some of the Sanskrit Dashawatar verses of the Geet Gobinda which have been much researched upon in the Satra will be performed here. Also, a few of the songs of the Geet Gobinda will be played today. Following is an analysis of each of the Stotras of Dashawatar:
Geet Gobindam Dashawatar Stotra
Malav Gouro-Rupak Taal
1. Pralaya Prayudhi Jole Dhritobanoxi Vedang
Bihito Bahitra Charitramakhedom
Keshavadhrito Meeno Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a fish; and
in the stormy waters, like a boat swam easily rescued the Vedas. This is your greatness. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
2. Khitiroti Bipulotore Tisthoti Tobo Pristhe
Dhoroni Dhoreno Kino Sokro Goristhe
Keshaba Dhrito Kossopo Rupo
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava you who have assumed the form of a tortoise; in the broad expanse of your back, the world rests, and you assumed this form solely to hold the world. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
3. Boxoti Doxono Sikhore Dharani Tobo Lagna
Sosini kolonko Kolebo Nimogna
Keshaba Dhrito Sukoro Rupo
Jagadisho Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a pig; just as the moon signifies the notion of being scarred, you too by holding the world by your teeth. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
4. Tobo Kore Kamala Bore Nokhomodbhuto Dosringong
Dolito Hironyokoshipu Tonu Bhringomo
Keshaba Dhrito Narahari Rupo
Jaya jagadisha hare.
O lord you who have assumed the form of Narasingha; with the sharp nails of your hand, you ripped apart the body of Hironyokoshipu. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
5.Soloyoxi Bikromone Bolimodbhuto Bamano
Podo nokho niroJonito Jono Pabono
Keshaba Dhrito Bamono Rupo
Jaya Jogodisho Hare.
O Lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a Bamono (a dwarf); you who have connived against the King Boli through your glory. And with the water washed off your feet you have sanctified the people. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
6. Khyotriyorudhiromoye Jogodopogoto Papong
Poyoxi Xomito Bhobo Tapom
Keshaba Dhrito Bhrigupotirupo
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Bhrigupoti (another name for Parasurama); you cleansed the world of evil (paap) by demolishing the Khyatriyos. However prior to that, bathing in holy Kurukshetra you had calmed the Bhava-taap (fire/heat of Siva's anger) within you...therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
7. Bitorosi Dikhyorone Dikpoti Romoniyong
Doxomukho MouliBoling Romoniyom
Keshaba Dhrito Ramo Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisho Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Rama; you had offered the ten beautiful heads of Dashanan (Ravana) as a sacrifice to the Devatas. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
8. Bahaxi Bapusi Bishada Basam Jaldavang
Halahati Bhiti Milito Jamunabhom
Keshaba Dhrito haladhar Rupo
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of a Haladhar (Balaram, holding a plough); we entreat you to put on, on your massive body the cloudy attire of the river Yamuna tinged with the bluish hue. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
9. Nindoxi Jogyo Bidherohoho Shruti Jatong
Sadaya Hridaya Dorxito Poxughatom
Keshaba Dhrito Buddha Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who have assumed the form of Buddha; your benign heart pains at the philosophy of animal sacrifice, so you criticise the Vedic yagyas. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
10. Mlesso Niboho NidhoneKalayaxi Karaalam
Dhumketu miboKimopi Koralom
Keshava Dhrito Kolki Xoriro
Jaya Jagadisha Hare.
O lord Keshava, you who assume the form of Kolki; we entreat you to alight on this earth, bearing a Koral Axi (sword) in hand, and demolish all the barbarians. Therefore, praise be the lord of the Universe.
It is our sincerest and earnest desire that there should be extensive publicity of the raagas, taalas, tunes and verses of the Geet Gobinda. For it is only that way that we have a beautiful identity of the devotional literature of Vaishnavism.
In all, there are 24 songs in the Geet Gobinda. Composed in Sanskrit, it has been divided into twelve chapters. Each chapter incorporates the following topics, raagas, and taalas:
Topic Raag Taal
1st chapter Saamod-Daamodar Malev Gour Rupak
2nd chapter Aklesh Keshava Sujari Nihsaar
3rd chapter Mugdha Madhusudon Basanta Joti
4th chapter Snigdho Madhusudon Baamkiri Joti
5th chapter Saakanka Pundori Kaakhyo Gujjori Joti
6thchapter Dhristo Boikuntho Maalav Gour Ektaal
7th chapter Naagar Narayan Gujjori Joti
8th chapter Bilakhya Lakhmi Pati Kanati Ektaal
9th chapter Mugdho Mukundo Desaashyo Ektaal
10th chapter Mugdho Madhab Boraari Rupak
11thchapter Saananda Gobindo Gujori Ektaal
12thchapter Suprito Pitaambor Gunokaari Rupak.
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(translated from the original Assamese by Stuti Goswami. This paper was presented in a convocation at Utkal University, Orissa)
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