|
Righteous Conduct- Proper Time
Management PUZZLE M. K. Kaw Oh! then I was gorged with questions, for in the exuberance of logic I thought of life as a neatly laid out jigsaw puzzle. All I had to do was figure it out, to see with sudden shock a life-size picture Of God. I tried the permutations, picked a piece here, a piece there placed, replaced, displaced them over and over and yet over, slowly, madly, in a frenzy, but nothing fit, no picture formed. All that I created in my agitation was a haze where dim shapes were hinted: before I could define them the vapours shifted into dissimilar contours. That made me frantic, perhaps there was a flaw in my moves, the way I lifted The pieces... If only I knew where to place them the mist would clear and I noise to nose with God. Just lately have I begun to suspect this is not it at all. Life is a squirrel chasing another up the trunk of a tree, down the trunk, across the grass, behind the rock, around the mound... And in between the chaser stops and rises on his
haunches, looks around with his mouse-mouth, and ruins again for the joy of it.. Is there an ultimate purpose here, a divine plan, an earth-shaking dogma, a war between God and Satan? It looks more like a game there all the players are on the same side. You know what I mean, don’t you! Righteous Conduct- Obedience GRANDFATHER Jayanta Mahapatra (Starving, on the point of death, Chintamani Mahapatra embraced Christianity During the terrible famine that struck Orissa in
1866) The yellowed diary’s notes whisper in vernacular. They sound the forgotten posture, the cramped cry that forces me to hear that voice. Now I stumble in your black-paged wake. No uneasy stir of cloud darkened the white skies of your day; the silence of dust grazed in the long afternoon sun, ruling the cracked fallow earth, ate into the laughter of
your flesh. For you it was the hardest question of all. Dead, empty trees stood by the dragging river, past your weakened body, flailing against your
sleep. You thought of the way the jackals moved, to move. Did you hear the young tamarind leaves rustle in the cold mean nights of your belly? Did you see your own death? Watch it tear your cries break them into fits of hard unnatural laughter? How old were you? Haunted, you turned coward and
run, the real animal in you plunging through your bone. You left your family behind, the buried things. the precious clod that praised the quality of a
god. The imperishable that swung your body. turned it inside out? What did faith matter? What Hindu world so ancient and true for you to
hold? Uneasily you dreamed toward the centre of your web. The separate life let you survive, while perhaps the one you left wept in the blur of your heart. Now in a night of sleep and taunting rain my son and I speak of that famine nameless as
stone. A conscience of years is between us. He is young The whirls of glory are breaking down for him
before me. Does he think of the past as a loss we have lived,
our own? Out of silence we look back now at what we do not
know. There is a dawn waiting beside us, whose signs are a hundred-odd years away from you, Grandfather. You are an invisible piece on a board whose move has made our children grow, to know us. carrying us deep where our voices lapse into
silence. We wish we knew you more. We wish we knew what it was to be, against dying to know the dignity. that had to be earned dangerously, your last chance that was blindly terrifying, so
unfair. We wish we had not to wake up with our smiles in the middle of some social order. Righteous Conduct- Courage ADVENTURER Karan Singh For I have gone where men have never been, and wandered over countries far and near and crossed great mountains with no trace of fear, and gazed on many a strange and wondrous scene; on mighty oceans have I plied my raft where monstrous fishes close beneath me played, and endless water heaved and lurched and swayed as tirelessly I hurled my lethal shaft; and through the great primeval forests tall I plied the lonely furrow of my life and slew great monsters, waged untiring strife with creatures of the darkness, great and small; and often as I strove with might and main, and each victory won far renown, I thought that I bad mown my troubles down and conquered fear and death, old age and pain; but ever were my hopes rudely belied, for wander as I might throughout the world I could not rid me of the terror curled somewhere within my being, deep inside; for over all our mortal hopes and gains hovers the constant shadow of the grave, of Time, that dims the glory of the brave and lays at waste our labours and our pains; and what adventure, what exploit will stay with us beyond the folded veil of death ? and what, when we have shed our mortal breath, will speed us on our far, eternal way? Righteous Conduct-Simple living The Boat of Life Fakir Mohan Senapati The boat of my life sails along the ocean of time, guided by the oar of karma. My timorous nature, like turbulent waves, tosses my life's boat up and down. Disease, sorrow, sin, anger, many a tempest, submerged rocks of tarnished acquaintances, too: By all these the boat of my life seems perturbed and harried. Sailing thus, it might get caught In the false salvation-like ties When the mind is possessed by worldly desires. The captain of sound conscience, the only savior, on insignificant one! Keep the polestar in mind. Or else, the dark, violent storm will surely sink your troubled boat. Translated from Oriya by Samanyu Satpathy Righteous Conduct-Respect for
others Devi Hussain Rabi Gandhi From Naoakhali to Nuapali beyond the threshold of the lakshman rekha of hunger, it is the dense jungle of mall sahi or sonagachhi, where perched on the hunting scaffold, the trident of civilization lurks for the kill. The pirate beyond the seas has drawn the lakhsman rekha of hunger. If you cry you are doomed, if you laugh, you are doomed. Your womanhood is being bargained, your modesty is being auctioned. Your honor is being marked. If you sell your honor, you are the Miss World, If not, you are primeval. woman on house arrest. His highness has ordained that you will be empowered; you will be granted shakti. The Dusshashan of the twenty first century is trying to disrobe you in the electronic court of the Kurus. You are already disrobed. You are being paraded on fashion ramp with your shoulders Laden with the merchandise Of the tycoons across the seas. His majesty has Made repeated declarations that the globalized consumerist God be worshipped, and you be empowered. Whether you are strong or weak, you yourself know not. For self-realization you must see yourself in the mirror as mother, sister, or wife. And then, to assume sakti, ascend the throne. Become Devi. Become the mother of the universe. Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu
Satpathy. Righteous Conduct- Service to
others Let My Body Mingle Gopabandhu Das Compatriots, friends, and kinsmen! Are you perturbed over my imprisonment? This was not unexpected. So why are you pained? Timidity is the sign of the infirm. The brave kills or is killed in action. The brave knows no retreat He dies not in mortal fear. I know this to be a war of peace, being fought, not with weapons nor canons, nor strength nor wealth nor chariots, horses, or elephants. This is a psychological battle to break the arrogance of brute strength. Abandoning material bondage I am armed with the shield of non-cooperation. Only those who are strong with the power of non-violence can find a place in this battlefield. Here the first reward is imprisonment: the next, maybe, the dismemberment of the body. I have joined the battle knowing this full well. I am not at all bothered by thoughts of shame or
infamy. May my body merge with the soil of this land, let my countrymen march on my back! Let all the pitfalls on the road to swarat be filled up by my flesh and bones. Let my sacrifice make men advance, however little, in the path of freedom. All ordained by the almighty, may my last prayer be fulfilled in this life! Translated from Oriya by Sumanyu
Satpathy Righteous Conduct-Faithfulness The Tragic Plight Kumaran Asan Awake! Awake! 0, gardeners! Make yourselves busy. The spring has dawned. Remember, in this garden, made beautiful By innumerable blossoms, high and low, There is not a single flower That does not give joy to the Great Gardener. Every blossom deeply desires to grow slowly And attain its perfection According to the will of God. Beware! Lest some cantankerous power Should cast a stumbling block in that way The Almighty doles out to them With never-fading beneficence And without discrimination Blissful air and gracious sunshine And sanctified rainfall everyday. Let them all blossom and shower fragrance! Let them all spread their dazzling radiance! Let them all grow their soft petals Long and broad and enjoy delight. Thread into garlands such flowers That will enrich themselves in mutual harmony. It will be pleasing to God; indeed, It is the policy of the Almighty Creator, Protect them from destruction, Take steps to destroy the cankers Like envy and prejudice and hatred That eat into the vitals of the human heart. Water their beds with love every day And give all the flowers unstinted sympathy. Build around them a fence with the golden thread Of customs proper to the times. The garden that you rear up thus Will fill with virtuous qualities And in its dazzling brightness outshine The heavenly grove. Almighty God Will congratulate and bless you Revered Brahmins! I dare say this Even if you deem it improper, Considering the country and the faith And the people and your own sacred selves. Times have changed and the strings Of traditional customs are old and crumbling. The awakened people will not be bound down By these frail threads. Come forward with boldness, Replace your traditional customs and conventions Or they will certainly displace you. Echoing these very words all through The tumultuous winds of change Blow through Kerela today. Time gives the same message from all quarters: And the grumblings of unrest are surging From underneath the feat. In your sick hurry and the din Of the eulogies of your fawning flutters, You may not consider these exhortations. And these words may not reach your ears. If my words in this Tragic Plight Which I utter in my emotional excitement And my righteous indignation, Are not soft enough, forgive me For the purity of my purpose I beg of you, O revered ones! To think with a little kindness what My lowly self has said. And I salute you And place before you this simple song. My humble manifesto. Translated from Malayalam by P.C.
Gangadhar. Righteous Conduct-Equality Onam Singers Vyloppilli Sreedhara Menon 1. Fondly singing Onam songs, And along the long roads trudging, We are poor folk, always half-starved And wrapped in tattered rags. What once had blazed, generations back As Onam's golden light Now dwells a dim and subdued gleam In our aged heads Gray-haired like sprinkled snow. 2. In the fragrant land of Kerala Redolent of numerous spices old, On the Ganga's widespread plains Where sanyasins conic in streams Mingle and flow, In the numerous tents that rise On the great desert, silent, solemn, bare, In the palm groves on the Nile's vast shores, In the ever-enchanting isles of Greece, In the rice-fields guarded by the poor In China with her face all awrinkle, In far-away eastern cities Where moonlit mansions crowd Like lovely lotus buds, In Russian steppes Where gypsies, doughty horsemen, Crowd round camp-fires, On the distant southern ranges, Where the wondrous Mayan culture Had its foundations laid, In many lands, in many garbs, In many a tongue, we tell The story of the radiant Onam That had dawned and set in days primeval. Drum and pipe and flute and lyre Accompany the song we sing. Honey, and milk, and juice of grape And the young coconut's delicious milk Blend their sweetness in our song. 3. Before the dawn of history Before the birth-cry of religions, A monarch reigned, a king of kings, Whose umbrella was like the sky Beneath which the whole world snuggled. He was like a mountain huge, His ministers tall like hills, Long and white their beards flowed Glistening in their smiles, Smiles that were the silver spray Of their welling wisdom deep. Great were their people too, Their bodies handsome, of disease free. Nobly generous were their minds. Human beings virtuous, perfect On an earth that knew no gods. The earth, for them, did spread her green And served them to their fill Like some noble skilful housewife Serving distinguished guests, Like flowers in a floral design, Like a variety of melodious notes In exquisite harmony blending, When a group of musicians sings, Men lofty of spirit lived In mutual concord bound In the glory of exalted thought and deed And obeying an unwritten code. Though unfettered The women were pure of nature, sweetly affable; Though of supreme valour The men were mercy-incarnate, deeply humble. Sharp as spear-grass sparkled their brains Untouched by evil's devious ways. Even in old age glowed their hearts With the joyous relish of blossoming youth. To their arts an intimate audience were The mountains majestically grave, The oceans with their rollicking waves, And the sky to subtle feelings vibrating. Though they adored no gods Their entire life was an act of worship, Their epoch an auspicious Onam Rich with endless flowers of virtuous deeds. 4. Some say While a thousand years spring-spangled Were winging their way forward, Suddenly the sea surged in Gorged on the glories of the earth And flowed back. Other ancients say. Vamana the primal god descended, Importuned the king, tricked him, And trampled him down into darkness and ruin. Nobody knows the truth, But aeons passed, and at
last When history her baby-eyes did open There on earth's head like a grey hair Were gods and priests and wicked lords. On the earth where true men Had once walked about Now walked bent-headed dwarfs Their thoughts too in pettiness enclosed. For three feet of ground they beg and steal and
kill, And perish on their own. They play with the toys of trivial pleasures, Break them and cry themselves to a weary sleep. Trampling down all glorious virtues, And making ghastly the beauteous earth They cry out to blind ascetic ways To lead them on to paradise But even in this growing gloom In our heads there dimly flicker The golden gleams of Onam days That long long ago had blazed. Science says they are but dreams, History scorns them as mere lies But truer far the radiant truth Whispered by our hearts to us. Clear to us that inner truth, The message that comes from beauty, The message our memories hum to us. It keeps us, travellers on the path of art, In a sweat restlessness every day And what is more, With eyes that once had kissed A golden age in the distant past We see once more the glimmer of Onam Far away where the future is shaped. We see the vision of human life Sculpted to a glorious form. And rising from the woeful chaos Of mankind in this modern age. Like birds incessantly flying From spring-abandoned sites To lands luxuriant of spring, Like stars lightly linking The twilight hours of dusk and dawn Our thoughts and dreams refulgent Are bounding forward in intense faith From what is lost to what is yet to bloom In some distant, unknown future. Our songs are the cord Tautly tied to the tips of time’s golden bow Let the clang of the cord embrace the earth. Look, Along the plains on the earth’s side Where moonlight gleams Like the scornful smile of the gods A radiant figure comes walking tall and straight, On his coming the flowers wake up and laugh The flowers are our witness. Come, let us receive him Let us prepare an Onam for the morrow. Translated from Malyalam by
B.Hridayakumari. Righteous Conduct- Honesty O ocean, my soul is in agony Vinayak Damodar Savarkar Take me, take me back to my motherland O ocean, my soul is in agony I had always seen you washing the feet of my motherland; You said to me, "Come, let us go to other countries and see the variety in this world." Upon that, my mother's heart pained with the fear of agony of separation But you gave her your word "I know all the ways, and shall myself carry him on my surface, and soon shall bring him back" Seeing your solemn resolve, I believed in your promise I felt I shall attain perfection, learning from the world "Soon shall I return". I told her and
left her. 0 ocean, my soul is in agony.... A parrot should enter a cage or a deer a snare - so is this deception! How shall I continuously suffer hereafter my separation from my motherland! Everywhere about me. darkness thickens I gathered flowers of virtues with the intention that she should relish their fragrance! If my learning cannot be completely consumed for her emancipation, then this entire learning is a futile burden. 0 ocean, that affection of the mango tree. those auspicious creepers weaving new blown
flowers, those blooming little rose buds.... Alas! now I am bereft of that flower-garden! O ocean, my soul is in agony .... Stars are in plenty in the sky -- but to me, the dearest one is India. Palaces here are charming --- but my mother's hut is dearest to me. Without her I won't accept a kingdom too Even the exile in her forest is entirely dearer to
me. Luring me is futile now, 0 ocean 0 Lord of rivers, river is so darlingly precious to your heart, I put you on her oath, 0 ocean, my soul is in agony.... O ruthless one, how cheekily you laugh the sham laughter of foam. Translated
from Marathi by Pradeep Gopal Deshpande. Righteous Conduct- Dignity of
Labour Reap the Paddy Hiren Bhattacharja Somewhere in my *Kolong and *Kapili Paddy is swelling Towards the places where I rest my head and my feet In the sticky soil of love. Reap the paddy with your lotus hand. Let the full-blown sunlight bubble on your smooth
dusky face. Bring the paddy, thresh the paddy, let the four directions resound with the rise and fall of your
feet. *Two rivers of Assam Translated from Assamese by Ajit Barua. Righteous Conduct- Simple Living In Memoriam Aboni Chakravarti No, not while the drill of breathing was on, but trooped in no that he is dead to plant cut flowers at his feet. He was not in uniform then, not at one with the drills, the uniform , the routine---- Yet We'd know a man from the uniform he wears. Poetry disdains that alien garb Yet we'd annoint the naked body of truth and surrender to the explosions. In that crucial act Caesar was flanked by Brutus As Jesus by two unwary thieves For what will never occur again I want to spread out my arms on nails to die this once , then again, Translated from Assamese by the author. Righteous Conduct-Self Sacrifice Self-Restraint Tirukkural Self-restraint wins us a place with the gods passion is the road to hell. Foster self-control as wealth beyond price; there's no greater source of good. The man schooled in self-restraint duly earns the laudation of the wise. Taller than a mountain is the stature of one with stern self-control. All need humility: more so the rich. for whom it's the truer wealth. Who-- tortoise-like -- controls the five senses. will harvest for seven lives. Restraint in speech is basic discipline, failing which--mere misery! A single hurtful word can damage all the good things one may have done. The fire-caused wound heals soon enough, but not one made by a scalding tongue! Virtue greets him who has mastered anger, and is wise and self-controlled. Translated from Tamil by K.R.Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Self-help Righteous Conduct-Service to
others Giving Tirukkural What we give the poor is gift; with others there's the hope of recompense. The poor are praised, the rich condemned; but when the poor beg, giving is good. The high-born, even when he's poor, gives still, and dosen't wail "I'm destitute!" Seeing the beggar's pained face, the giver feels sad, till it smiles again. Askesis is reared on hunger; greater is the gift that ends hunger! Of what use is wealth except for ending the hunger of the hopeless? Who practises sharing food with the poor will never know hunger's pangs. Don't the misers that save and lose their wealth know the great joy of giving? Alas! it's worse misery than begging to hoard wealth and feed alone. Ah, worse than death is the sad plight of one with nothing for charity. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Loyalty to Duty Human Perfection Tirukkural Men wedded to duty and goodness see duty in all good actions. What determines the worth of the worthy? The light within, nothing else! Perfection involves love, truth, sense of shame, sharing, and benevolence. Ahimsa is the saints mark: avoidance of foul speech, that of good men. With humility, the strong stoop to win, the worthy disarm their foes. The wise own defeat by the wise, although inferior otherwise. Human excellence lies in doing good to one's enemies themselves. Poverty shames not the man who is heir to the wealth of character. The Elect stand their ground, although all change and the worlds crack and explode. The Earth must grow weary of its burden should the Elect themselves fail. Translated from Tamil by K.R.
Srinivasa Iyengar Righteous Conduct-Respect to others Courtesy Tirukkural Courtesy is the crown of nature that receives all men with ease. Courtesy grows out of native goodness and excellent fostering. It's inner affinity, not outer likeness, that sustains friendship. The world esteems those whose actions flow from justice, virtue, helpfulness. The courteous speak not scornfully, even in jest, or to their foemen. But for the wise men who keep it going, the Earth would crash and perish. Steel-sharp their brains, yet lacking good manners, such men are but wooden blocks. Discourtesy, even towards one's foes, is an unbecoming trait. He that can never smile sees only dark, dark, even in broad daylight. Wealth with the miserly is like pure milk soured in an unclean vessel. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Self-help I Sing in Praise of Dreams Kulo Thungan The dreams of a poet create an epic; Those of the lovers shall enrich life itself; Our dreams on earth may herald an epoch. Dreams do ripen; praise be to the dreams. In front of our eyes we see the bounds: We close our eyelids and all limits vanish; To all that we perceive time sets limits. Blessed be the dreams: they transcend time. A dream today shall be real tomorrow; We shall transform our ambtions to attainments; Mind, like the Vamana*, known no bounds: Let our dreams grow and humanity blossom! Translated from Tamil by V.C.Kulandai Swamy Righteous Conduct-Justice Muthuray Ouvvay Who statedly with floral gifts attend, Before the trunk-faced red-one's1 footstool bend, And pious homage reverently pay, Shall from the goddess lotus-throned 2 acqiure wit, eloquence, and all that they desire, And never sink in bodily decay. 1.If suffering worth to acts of kindness move, Dismiss the fear your bounty may not prove And source at last of profit and delight: The water furnished to its early root, In sweeter draughts from future plenteous fruit The cocoa's crown will gratefully requite.3 2.The valued favours the deserving gain Like sculpture in eternal rock remain; Of virtue's tribute charity is sure: But vain is kindness to the worthless shown, Who debts and duties ever more disown; On water written words as well endure. 3.When senseless grief the live-long day englooms, In vain attractively the garden blooms; In vain the spouseless maid her beauty wears: So youth when needy is a tiresome stage, And wealth but misery in helpless age, A bitter mockery of peevish cares. 4.To love, though loved, the callous base ne'er learn; But love for love the good and wise return; Their greatness through calamities remains; A purer whiteness as the sea-shell shows, When fiercely the containing furnace glows; As seething milk its flavour still retains. 5.Although in foliage richly dressed they rise, In figure faultless, and mature in size, As trees no fruit except in season bear, In any project sooner to succeed, And gain the end before the time decreed, Nor wealth avails, nor toil, nor wakeful care. 6.Not softly yielding as the building towers, Not bending gently when the load overpowers, The stony column will asunder fly: So they who scorn their honour to survive 'Gainst overwheliming adversaries strive, Refusing homage though they muster nigh. 7.The depth and surface of the pool decide The growth and limit of the lily's pride: So erudition is on study based; So riches show accumulated worth By penance purchased in a previous birth; So character from son to sire is traced. 8.Happy the eyes that on the pious rest, The ears that hear their useful words are bless'd, And bless'd the lips that all their virtues tell; More happy they, their character who wear, Their friendship gain, their reputation share, Their sacred paths frequent, and with them dwell. 9.The very sight of wicked men is ill, Their graceless words the ear with evil fill, The lips with risk their attributes portray, And ' its the height of self-inflicted wrong To mingle with their sin-infectious throng, Attend their cursed step, and with them stay. 10.The water turn'd to where the rice-crop grows Refreshes kindly, as it thither flows, The common grass that in its channel lies; In every age, the genial rains that fall To cheer the good , are shared alike by all, And virtue 's revenue the world supplies. 11.To instruments the grate their glory owe; The lofty are supported by the low; Without assistance rank and skill were vain: Too oft we spurn the object we should prize; The rice denuded unproductive dies, The husk we scorn preserves the living grain. 12. In bulk the scentless taly 4 far excels; The little magul flowers more sweetly smells : In seeming meanness may be hidden worth: The spacious sea, with all its vauntful roar, E'en for ablution fits not,5 while ashore The humble spring with nectar gushes forth. 13.The branching trees that in the jungle grow No excellence like cultured palms can show; Appearing proudly with the learned, he Who, lacking skill to scan the proffer'd verse, Or seize the sense of what the rest rehrearse, Is disconcerted , stands a jungle tree. 1. Ganapathi 2. Lakshmi. 3. The young cocoa-nut needs copious and frequent watering . The fluid of its fresh is a pleasant and abundant drink. 4. A coarse wild flowor. 5. The saline deposite spoils the look of the brown skin. English blue-jackets sometimes drive canoes away, and make room for their own boat, by naughtily dipping a hand in the sea, and dashing some water on the shoulders of the native sailors. Translated from Tamil by Edward Jewitt Robinson. Righteous Conduct- Courage, Leadership and Team
Spirit. Mother, Motherland Subhash Mukhopadhyay I loved my mother, oh so dearly But I could never spell it out In so many words Sometimes I saved the money Meant for snacks And got her oranges Her eyes would fill with tears As she lay in bed But I could never tell her in words Just how much I loved her. Oh mother, my motherland, I don't know how to Tell you the same! You are the land Where I took my first steps Holding on to you with all my might Your feel is firmly imprinted Within my toes and fingers, No matter what I touch It's you I find Oh mother, it's you who play The lute within my heart. Mother dear, we're not afraid Of those who have dared to plant Their cruel talons Upon your sacred soil We shall grab them by the neck And throw them out of our realm. We shall face life our own way The way we've always done We're not afraid, just vexed because Our yajna has been disturbed. Mother dear, we shall hold our tongue And let our busy hands Spell out our love! Translated from Bengali by Swapna Dutta. Righteous Conduct- Leadership and Courage My Work Subhash Mukhopadhyay I want my words to stand on their feet I want each shadow to have eyes And provide motion to still paintings I don't want them to call me a poet I just yearn to be able to walk Shoulder to shoulder with the others Until the last day of my life And be able to lay down my pen beside the tractor And say, "Brother, I'm through--- Give me a whiff of fire!" Translated from Bengali by by Swapna Dutta. Righteous Conduct- Self-Reliance O, My Countryman! Abul Ahad Azad The fire of your honour is out. Awake, my countryman! Do not sleep like a worm Buried deep in the mud of fear. Come out in your hooded majesty. Awake ,my countryman! Caught in a whirlpool, you are amazed to see Your stone become glass, your quicksilver water, The pearls of your necklace worthless beads. Awake, my countryman! Let flames leap out of the oven of your heart! Fall like lightning on noxious nettles, And meadows of flowers will live wothout fear. Awake, my countryman! Translated from Kashmiri by Trilokinath Raina Righteous Conduct- Honesty The Betrayal Nirala The face yellowed. The spine curved. The hands joined. Darkness rose in the eyes. Centuries passed. The great sages, saints and poets arrived. Each laid down the law. Some said that one is three, Others that three is three. Some felt the pulse, some watched the lotus. Some revelled, some kissed the fingers. The people said, `Blessed are we. But the tambourine held out. The mridanga split into the tabla. The vina became the surbahar. We now hear the spinet. The day breaks. The lips of the four cardinals redden. Morning's polecats are night's. The Age of Betrayal betrays us. Translated from Hindi by Arvind Krishna Mehrotra. Righteous Conduct-Courage and Faithfulness A Single Shooting Star Gajanan Madhav Muktibodh A single shooting star A distant star shoots through the blue of space Here, someone measures its speed, records the rise and set. But nothingness of space, assumed to blue, must spell an answer inaccessible. To stretching scope eye muscle's strain. Astronomers describe its pace and spatial shift; account for its time concealed in tunnels of shade. Yet it tracks only itself, oblivious to sketch and sketcher, eye and scope. With equal speed another lone star seems to move across the space So in moving out of shades of evil , reining self, riding the void, each star becomes the image seeing its own fearless offspring--- because of this I shall put faith in every man, in every man's son. Translated from Hindi by James Mauch. Righteous Conduct- Self-sacrifice Mother Dr. P. Lankesh My mother, black, prolific earth, green leaf, a festival of white flowers. With every burn, the earthier; with every pang more fruit and petal. Limbs that thrill to children's kicks. Laying down the basket on her head, she groaned, and closed eyes never again to open. Raised a hundred measures of millet to please father and win a bracelet for the arm, swilling water for each clod of earth; pepper, pea, millet and grain she ploughed with her hand, blossoming in flowers, ripening in fruit, she watched over cereal fields, spending all youth in a tatter of sarees. She died, she did: What's the age of a hag bent double? How many New Year moons, how many festivals of sweet bread Over the live coal? How many times she wept, this old woman, for coin, for dead calf and ruined grain? roamed villages, how many times, for an ancient run away buffalo? No, not Savitri, Janaki, nor Urmila; nor a heroine out of history books, tranquil, fair, grave in dignity; nor like the wives of Gandhi and Ramakrishna. Did not worship the gods, nor listen to holy legends, nor did she wear like a good auspicious wife any vermilion on her brow. A wild bear bearing a litter of little ones, she reared a husband, saved coins in knots of cloth; like a hurt bitch, she snarled, grumbled and fought. Mean, crooked, ready to scratch like a monkey; the only rule: whatever raises a family. Would flare up and burn only if son went wild or husband elsewhere. A wild jungle bear has no need for your Gita. My mother lived for stick and grain, labour and babies; for rafter overhead, rice, bread, a blanket; to walk upright among equals. Admiration , tears of thanks: for bearing and raising; living in mud and soil , and for living as she did ,as if leaving home for the fields, cool, in the middle of small talk. Translated from Kannada by A.K.Ramanujan. Righteous Conduct- Simple Living A Lesson Dr. K. S. Nishar Ahmed The poets of the Wordsworthian clan counselled the beatnik Gregory Corso: "Brother, open your inward eye and write, Stop being a slave to the so-called reality of life's misery and complexity. Let a scene from nature teach you a lesson. Look at that tree, free from life's ugliness, generous and harmless. Be happy and give it your thanks." Corso banged the table before him and said, "This is the gratitude we have shown to that noble, wonderful tree." Translated from Kannada by Dr. S.K.Desai Righteous Conduct-Self-help Avoidance of Envy Tirukkural Prize avoidance of envy as a part Of exemplary conduct. There’s no human excellence as worthy As the freedom from envy. Nor wealth nor virtue is his who envies Others, not delights in them. Knowing the wages of envy, the wise Succumb not to the evil. The envious need no adversary, For envy can eat itself. Viewing gifts to another with envy Provokes penury and death. Fortune spurns the envious man, who now Comes under Misfortune’s sway. The evil of envy destroys one’s wealth And dooms the soul to hell-fire. One disbelieves when the envious win Or the great unjealous fail. The green-eyed sinner is not for the heights; The sinless can’t miss them. Translated from Tamil by K.R, Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Equality Equality Tirukkural Rright behaviour towards friends, foes, strangers is alone equality. Justly won wealth endures undiminished, and with the progeny too. Give up gains, though useful, if ill acquired; ends don’t justify the means. Posthumous fame shows whether one had lived A just life on earth or not. Loss and gain are no chancy things: the wise face them with equality. He who swerves from justice and turns to wrong sets upon his road to ruin. The wise don't look down upon the good man though he lives in poverty. What marks the wise is their equality unswerving like weighing scales. Where the mind is without twist or untruth. speech too blazons rectitude. What's the mark of a good trader? He guards another’s goods as his own. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Self-sacrifice Forbearance Tirukkural Even as the earth suffers its diggers, the wise bear with their critics. Forbearance of a wrong is always good; better still to forget it. Poverty's worst is to turn back one's guests; and sure strength to suffer fools. For sustaining the honour of one's name perseverance is the key. The wise dismiss the vengeful as worthless; sufferance is prized as gold. Revenge means a day's joy, but forbearance wins a good name for ever. Better meet injury with sufferance, and pity the poor sinner. When the proud hurtfully assail, meet them with patience and transform them. Those that suffer hurtful speech from the proud, know them as true ascetics. Praised be abstinence from food, but glory to those who suffer foul speech. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Service to others Sharing Tirukkural Generosity seeks no recompense: what do we pay to the clouds? Wherefore the accumulation of wealth, unless it leads to sharing? In this world or in heaven, there's nothing nobler than sharing one's wealth. He who practises sharing truly lives: the rest are as good as dead. The wise man of benevolence is like a tank's life-giving waters. A generous man's wealth is like ripe fruit on a tree, open to all. Like a balm-giving tree is the rich man who shares his largesse with all. Even if they're poor, the wise continue their acts of beneficence. 'Tis his inability to share wealth that hurts the poor worthy man. Even by selling himself, the good man will do deeds of charity. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Dignity of
Labour Greatness Tirukkural Greatness is willed achievement: Acquiescing in one's sloth is littleness. All have a similar birth: men differ only the way they live. The base are base although raised high: the great are great although pushed below. Chastity is woman's guarded treasure: such is man's sustained glory. Even under stress, the great find the means to attain difficult ends. The petty are allergic to the great and will learn nothing from them. If wealth and fame comes to the petty ones, their pride will exceed all bounds. The great are gentle and humble, but pride is the badge of little men. Greatness can make everyone feel at home: meanness thrives on insolence. Greatness softness the defects of others: littleness makes much of them. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srinivasa Iyengar. Righteous Conduct-Obedience Sensitivity to Shame Tirukkural The recoil from shame is true modesty : all else is maidenly blush. Food, raiment, children are the marks of all; modesty is a rare gift. The body houses life, but modesty houses human excellence. Without the jewel of modesty, man's swagger but insults the eye. Some blush for others' shame as if it's theirs; they're the home of Modesty. Were it even to gain a realm, the wise will not cross modesty's bounds. The modest forego life for honour's sake, and not honour for life's sake. Virtue will flee from those that fail to feel as the sensitive ones do. Want of breeding injures one's family: shamelessness ruins everything. Lack of all modesty disgraces man into a puppetry piece. Translated from Tamil by K.R. Srivasa Iyengar Righteous Conduct- Their Fatherland Kapilar The dark planet may smoulder; Or the earth be enveloped in smoke; Or the silver planet fly southwards; Yet crops teem there in the fields, And flowers blossom on the shrubs, And herds of tender --eyed kine With their calves tethered in the homestead Browse at ease on Lush grass. Wise and good men throng there even more; The welcome rain never fail, his fields; And green;-leaved jasmine abounds with buds Sharp and white like kitten's teeth In the glorious fatherland Of these charming maidens bangled bright Since the sceptre of their father Is ever straight. Translated from Tamil by P. N. Appuswamy Righteous Conduct-Justice No Heaven to Gain: No Hell to Fear Kulo Thungan We know no other light but knowledge and wisdom: The puzzles , that are beyond our grasp today, we shall find the way to solve one day. In search of truth we wander in all directions: Ours an open mind, an ever expanding philosophy. Never shall we accept any law of life that fails to accept this simple rule: "Change is but a proof that we are
alive". We seek and strive to create out of a particle of
dust, wealth enough to sustain all that lives and exist. The twin missions in life we have; We contemplate and we create, Our aim is a world with justice for all! Posterity is our concern and for its health, We sweat and toil; forego food and sleep--- in so doing we find infinite joy. This ,the only happiness ,we know; we care. Beyond this bliss, we have no heaven to gain and no hell to fear. Translated from Tamil by V.C.Kulandai Swamy Righteous Conduct-Self Sacrifice It Does Not Matter Kedar Nath Sigh Every time I return and check in my house gets a surprise and says: 'Hail'. O Lord God! Isn't it a miracle that where ever I go I come back here all the time. On the road they do not demand your identity card and in the mirror you do not need a proof and what a big facility it is that whether we are all at home or in a tram all curiosities are set at rest with just a railway timetable. The sky on every bent folds me up a little and then leaves me alone, to me only; to take another step or just sit down. And this is the place where once you have arrived the shrieks of stones can already be heard. But the truth in fact is that it does not make a difference here or anywhere. Where you once wrote 'Love' you now write 'Road' but it does not make a difference. The catch-word of my age is it does not make a difference'. It often seems as if the faces of the friend sitting beside you and the terminal points of the indistinct African rivers have become indistinguishable. And what I want to give words to is not on my tongue but is sticking somewhere between my teeth. I might as well start my argument but things are passing through such a phase that calling the table , opposite you. 'Table' is like lifting it from there and placing it among unnamed criminals. And this is the point which every bloody vein Gets severed from the body and the time when a small nail in my shoe starts pinching the stars. Translated from Hindi by Apu Vajpeyi Righteous Conduct- Equality Of Equality Kazi Nazrul Islam Of equality I sing where all barriers and differences between man and man have vanished, where Hindus, Muslims, Buddhists and Christians have mingled together. Of equality I sing. What are you a Parsi, a Jain a Jew? Or a Santal, Bhil or Garo A confusion or a follower of Charvak the atheist? Go on, say more. Yet , friends, be whatever you may please, whatever books and manuscripts you may carry in your insides or on your backs or shoulders--- be it the Quran, the Puranas, the Vedas, Vedanta, the Bible, Tripitaka, Zendavesta, Granthsahib-- and whatever you may read of these as you please, yet why this vain labour, this driving of an auger into your brain ? Why this haggling as in a shop?--- Fresh flowers are blooming along the way ! Within you are all the books, the wisdom of all
ages and you need only to open wide your soul to find all the scriptures there. In you are all religions, all the prophets of ages; your heart is the universal temple of all the gods
of men. What makes you, man of religion, seek God in the the dead bones of treatises ? He smiles in the silent privacy of your immortal
heart. This is no lie I speak, my friends-- it is here that all royal crowns lay themselves prostrate. It is the heart that is the sacred seat of
Jagannath, is Banaras ,Mathura, Brindaban, Bodh Gaya, Jerusalem, Medina and the shrine of the Kaaba. The heart is the mosque, the temple and the church; it is here that Jesus and Moses discovered Truth. The heart is the battlefield. where Krishna sang the great Gita, It is the field where the shepherd magi made
friends with God. This heart is the cave of meditation where Buddha heard the call of humanity's deep distress and renounced his throne. In this retreat the darling son of Araby heard the
great call; it's here that he sang the song divine that is the
Quran I haven't heard it wrong , friend---- there's no temple or Kaaba greater that this heart
of man. Of equality I sing. There is nothing greater nor than man! No distinction of time, place or circumstance--- indivisible is the community of man in religion, for in all times and climes and in every home God is everyman's kith and kin. The hypocrites worship the scriptures. Listen,you fools, it is men that have produced scriptures and not scriptures that have produced men! Adam, David, Jesus, Moses, Abrahan, Muhammad, Krishna, Buddha, Nanak, Kabir are the priceless heritage of the world; they are our great ancestors, and their blood courses more or less in every vein of these our bodies ! We are their own offspring. and have the shape same as theirs--- and who knows but we may grow to their stature some time or other ? Laugh not, friend ! This self of mine is so fathomless and infinite that I don't know what highest of the high indwells in me. Translated from Bengal by Basudha Chakrabarty Righteous Conduct-Proper Time Management Song of the Road Alok Ranjan Dasgupta We shall not linger on the steps Of the waiting room In the dusky twilight of the setting sun When the moon is rising With its halo bright We shall not linger on the steps Of the waiting room. We shall not pause in aching hope Of a second kiss The door of clouds is open Where our throne is set The throne which feels The lash of storm The touch of rain We shall not pause in aching hope Of a second kiss! Translated from Bengali by Swapna Dutta Righteous Conduct-Team Spirit Morning Dia Nath Nadim Alone, the morning star is truly forlorn, Left behind by the shining caravan, The poor so journey has lost his way And scans the sky for his comrades. The tulip, pitying his plight, dragged him down Into her lap in the form of dew; Bounteous earth blesses him with increase; Buds on bushes blossomed in twins. Alone in the sky, coming down he became many; Happy comradeship cured the false pride of height. A flower among flowers, and pearl in the breeze-- The garden taught him the great secret of life. Erase your ego, and you move forward with the many; In isolation a bleak death crowns a pointless life. Translated from Kashmiri by the author. Righteous Conduct- Appreciation of other Cultures In Bhilai Ashok Bajpeyi Even there, where the stretched-out long and burning hands of iron are chopped off by the machine, I'll sleep soundly, and without getting nabbed by a nightmare wake to the wealth of sum as usual. All your words and gestures may fade but I'll remember you; in an endless summer the sense of seasons will be lost and yet I'll recognise those fragrant days when your fresh youth blooms in my arms. A deadening noise will be all around and my heart like melted incandescent iron will flow towards you in numberless streams: and quietly, you will mould it into happiness. then one night your blood and your heart and your love will grow heavy like the steel, from beneath the railway-trains carrying people and coal from behind the lampposts keeping watch over tranquil towns; the earth will be dumb like a dark and heavy fear, and the overhanging sky be still like death. My innumerable parts will wait for you at the machine-gate. Translated from Hindi by the author. Righteous Conduct-Team Spirit and Courage Our Reply Gaurish Kaikimi Let us march step in step And shoulder to shoulder. Let us reshape the age we live in And move the world to wonder. Let's sing the song of terror and destruction. The song of victory. Where is the time for courtesies now? Come old, come young, come one and all. Men and women----they are equal when The nation's debt is settled. Come, we will fight the battle. The enemy has broken into our temple, Red Bear in the house of God. The Himalayas are on fire. Come, soldiers, march forward And cast out this menace! We will break, we will burn The dogged enemy, part and whole, Run his camp to rack and ruin And our trumpets blow triumphant And tear horizons asunder. We are heirs of Immortality. Of the tribe of Indra, the mountain-breaker, And friends of Siva, the death-vanquisher. Our valour knows no bounds Nor our greatness any fall. Chamundi invites, the goddess of war. We acknowledge it with blood. Our very faces are transparent Mirrors to the nation's soul. All that we have held as ours Is an offering to the Goal. The crookedness of fate Has wound its way through the Manasa lake To Mount Kailas. The crocodile has caught the Gajendra, The elephant of Bharat Lakshmi. We will bless the forehead of our tri-colour With the blood-mark of the crocodile. |