Monday 21 January 2013

The Ethereal Saga





Soft glow radiated from the oil lamps create the illusion of moonlight. The assorted fragrance of sandalwood, incense, jasmine and champak reminds of the gardens of Vrindavan. The majestic Lord Jagannatha depicts the eternal lover Krishna. Trinkling of Manjeera and rhythm of Mridangam echo within the inner sanctum of the Temple. The yarning rendition of blissful music by a young Brahmin transforms the aura to a magical world. His expressive eyes are soaked in ardor and ecstasy. The lyrics of the song reflects his mood;-

उत् मद मदन मनोरथ पथिक वधू जन जनित विलापे
अलि कुल संकुल कुसुम समूह निराकुल बकुल कलापे

(Travellers’ brides are rent by passion, much they wander in their pain
To see Bakula flowers, unruffled; with their swarm of honey bees.)

A celestial beauty is dancing with the music in the middle of the chamber. Attired in blue saree and ornaments of flower; bearing the expression of unrequited love she is reflection of Sri Radha, the lady love of the Lord.

The symphony of dance and music illustrate the ultimate expression of love. Presence of King Choda Gangadeva, minister Ananga Verma, chief priest Martanda Devasharmana become elusive in the enchanting world of devotion.

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A mud hut with beautifully painted walls and a small courtyard remains recluse from the nearby village. A part of the courtyard is bedded with variety of flower plants; at the centre, the platform of sacred basil plant provides a touch of domesticity. The hut is not far from the Puri Temple. With King Choda Gangadeva’s blessing this is the chosen residence of the young poet. Temple attendants bring Maha Prasad twice a day; that suffices his worldly need. Free from the worries of life, poet immerges into the world of creativity.

मेघैः मेदुरम् अंबरम् वन भुवः श्यामाः तमाल द्रुमैः नक्तम्
भीरुः अयम् त्वम् एव तत् इमम् राधे गृहम् प्रापय इत्थम् नन्द निदेशितः
चलितयोः प्रति अध्व   कुंज द्रुमम् राधा माधवयोः जयन्ति यमुना कूले रहः केलयः

(With the thickened cloud and the darkened wood with Tamala tree;
Radha leads Madhava towards home in the path indicated by Nanda,
Each branching arbor near Yamuna helps her to win over Madhava.)


Poet has plunged into the charm of Radha-Madhava; passionate love of the divinity is the subject of his new poetry.


Soft spring time breeze caresses the flower bed, mild gleam of morning sun reflects in the adjacent verandah. Poet returns home after taking bath and enters the hut in his wet clothes. At the corner of the room on a low desk lie the palm leaves, wooden pen and ink pot in orderly manner. A garland of fresh jasmine is placed over the unfinished writing. Burning incense is positioned at the kulungi of the wall. An enchanted smile appears in Poet’s handsome face. She came even today…, the neat arrangement of the room provides evidence. The humble surrounding has turned into a mystic delight with her feminine touch.

-         “Did Sri Radha also arrange Madhavi arbour for Krishna in same way! Did she too prepare garland for her beloved!”

Poet changes clothes and sits at the writing corner. He writes about impatient Radha awaiting her Lord.

It is almost sunset time; the sky is painted with saffron red. Poet fondly waters the flower plants; his other passion in life. Soft chime of trinkets make him look back. Color of the sky reflects on her already blushed countenance; poet imagines Shyam beloved love struck Radha, waiting at the bank of Yamuna.

-         “What have you written today Dev, wouldn’t you read it to me?”

-         “How could I deny you Padma? The couplets come live through your dance portrayal. My poetry is incomplete without you.”

-         “Don’t say that! You are the great poet, favored by mighty king. I am a temple dancer of humble origin.”

-         “You are not commonplace either; you are Sri Radha of my imagination. Your devotion to the Lord Vanamali inspires me. Let me read out the latest poem.”

माधविका परिमल ललिते नव मालिक जाति सुगन्धौ
मुनि मनसाम् अपि मोहन कारिणि तरुण अ कारण बन्धौ

(The springtime fragnance of flowers like Madhavi, Jasmine
Can cause bafflement to even heart of saints)

Padmavati soaks in to the passion of the poem, tears roll down. She thinks inwardly;

-         “Lord, forgive me. My love is not unattached; I am committed to the poet. I have worshiped you within him.”

Months pass by; poet carries on with his poetry. Padma’s life goes on much the same way.


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It is almost noon Poet is stuck at the nineteenth verse. At this stage, the love of Radha-Madhava has evolved into the eternal ardor of submission. Poet wants to write;-
स्मरगरलखण्डनं मम शिरसि मण्डनं
देहिपदपल्लवमुदारम्।
(To counteract the venom of cupid, to ornament my cranium,
I seek for your lotus feet.)

He hesitates, how could he make the Lord seek for mortal Radha’s feet? Is it his own love for Padmavati that has put him in such consternation? Has he failed in his complete devotion to Krishna? Devastated and perturbed, poet forgets about time.

-         “Haven’t you taken bath yet?”

Padmavati appears at the doorstep holding Maha Prasad.

-         “I have completely failed Padma. I can not write anymore.”

-         “You are agitated for some reason. Please take bath and have Prasad. Then I shall listen to you.”

She forces him to go for bath, meanwhile gets busy in laying the food.

-         “You finished so fast! Come and sit for food.” Padma smiles at poet.

-         “Padma, why do you take such great care of me? Is it because of my poetry?”

She keeps silent for some time, then answers,

-         “You know so much of Sri Radha’s feelings; yet, don’t understand any of mine.”

-         “I understand Padma and I have just realized that I am imperfect without you. If I snub this truth, my poetry will remain incomplete. I have overcome all my hesitations; now I can finish the new couplet.”

Poet finishes food and sits at his desk. He completes the couplet with the words he could not ink before;

‘Dehi Pada Pallava Mudaram’

(I seek for your lotus feet.)

On finishing the line he comes to Padmavati,

-         “I am going now to meet the king and seek for your hand. Do you accept me?”

Padmavati breaks down at his feet, poet leaves. She waits at the doorstep, oblivious of the time.

-         “Why are you sitting like this Padma? I am a bit late.” Poet sounds apologetic.

Astounded Padma asks,

-         “Are you trying to tease me Dev?”

-         “What are you saying Padma?”

-         “Haven’t you just finished your lunch? Look at the left over still lying on your plate. Look at that palm leaf where you just finished your couplet.”

Poet flabbergasted, rushes to the desk where the ink is yet to dry on the freshly written palm leaf.

‘I seek for your lotus feet.’

-         “Lord, you have expunged my hesitation with your gracious presence! Now I shall express your divine love through earthly emotions. Padma was lucky to see you; I have only your writing to treasure for life.” Poet bows down at the writing.


Epilogue

Poet marries Devdasi Padmavati. King Choda Gangadev has been too glad to offer his blessing to the nuptials already approved by Lord Jagannatha himself. Poet finishes his verse. The epic-poem is named ‘Geet-Govindam’. Poet Jayadeva becomes immortal through his great creation and so is his lady love Padmavati.

Note:

Geet Govindam depicts the Radha Krishna Love saga through basic mortal emotions that ultimately culminate into spirituality. It is not imperative to say that Jayadeva inculcated his own emotions in his poetry and visualized Padmavati as Radha. Many believe, Jayadeva was already married to Padmavati while writing Geet Govindam, but I have taken liberty with the view that the longing to embrace beloved and articulate love can only ignite in such wonderful verse. Marrying a Devdasi was also against the norm of society which can be justified with the legend of Lord Krishna appearing in disguise to finish the couplet.

Vocabulary:
Manjeera – a musical instrument, speciality of eastern part of India
Mridangam – ancient form of Drums
Kulungi – a small cut in the wall, used for storing small utilities
Madhava, Vanamali, Shyam – names of Lord Krishna
Madhavi – favourite flower of Lord Krishna, madhavi arbour was the meeting place for Radha Krishna
Maha Prasad – Holy food offered to God


©2013 ananyapal ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Friday 4 January 2013

Tilak Dhari


A little girl of around five is waiting at the gate of her house with an eager look. She is little restless, anxious to be taken to school. A sudden ringing of bell lifts her mood; a strong middle aged man with weather beaten look arrives with his cycle rickshaw. He descends, lifts her softly and places carefully inside the rickshaw along with her bag. The girl smiles, he nods and starts towards another house to pick the other girl passenger.

The girls chat and giggle, at times even argue on their way to and fro. They ask the man several questions about his house, children and his village home. He answers patiently, breaking into a smile. He is often requested to pluck flowers from road side trees on the way towards home. Each time he obliges, the adoring smile of the girls thrill him, bring softness to his otherwise stern face.

His name is Tilak Dhari, a man from a village of Bihar. Like many of his fellow neighbors, he came to the big city in search of work. His current dwelling is in the nearby slum with his wife and children. An illiterate man in a humble profession, his natural grace and gentleness distinguishes him from others of his class.

His obedience and patience delights the girls, causing envy to their friends. They are in awe with his muscular strong look. He emerges to them as a brave hero glorious in his vehicle.

Time passes, the little girl grows; stops going to school in cycle rickshaw. She prefers walking down along with other girls. Gradually, Tilak Dhari fades from her world.

The little girl is now a young lady, newly married at a near by town. She comes to meet her parents with young husband at her side. From the bus stop they take a cycle rickshaw to reach home. The rickshaw puller being an old man rides slowly, the young man gets impatient. They reach her house, parents come running to welcome their son in law. Father offers fare to the rickshaw puller. He suddenly recognizes and calls, ‘Is it Tilak? It is such a long time, how are you?’ The man (by now sweating profusely) breaks into a smile. ‘Yes sir, I am Tilak. Where is our baby?’ Father proudly introduces the daughter and son in law. Tilak is awestruck, finding it hard to communicate with the lady. Father pays him some extra, he shyly takes leave.

The young lady stares at the departing figure of a stooped old man, secretly hiding tears in her eyes.

Wednesday 2 January 2013

The Death Defier


                                       

The first gleam of sunlight reflected within the cave, illuminates the ancient temple. Somber recital of shlokas from the Shivamahapuran fills the air.  Magnificent Linga of Neelkant creates an aura of the meditating Lord. Today is the first day of Gangaur Utsav. Chief priest is busy in preparation for the grand offering. Majestic figures of Bhairav and Parvati near the gateway, is being decorated by junior priests. King Keerat Rai Singh is expected any moment along with his queen, Haimavati.

King and queen emerge from the royal carriage, followed by carriages transporting ladies from royal household. Devaki, the lady in waiting of Haimavati carries a grand offering meant for the royal couple. King in his mid forties is still a handsome man. Strong jaw and wide forehead radiates strength of his character; while the softness in those eyes reveals care and affection. Haimavati, the first wife and already a grandmother is like a reflection of Devi Uma, the eternal Goddess mother. The royal entourage proceeds towards the temple after offering garlands to Bhairav and Parvati.

Gangaur is the biggest festival in Kalinjar; Lord Neelkanth being the main deity of Chandela dynasty. It will last for eighteen days and the royal couple will observe fast for the entire tenure taking meal only once in a day. All the houses within the fort are decorated with flowers and banyan-leaves; specially adorned gateways are erected at the crossroads.

Young girls worship Lord Shiva to get a suitable groom, married ones seek blessing for wealth and prosperity of their husbands. A large fair has been set up like every year in the open ground overlooking Pandu Kund; a beautiful lake beside the massive structure of reclined Lord Vishnu at his eternal sleep. Festivity of the town has also spread in the royal household.

Champa, the fourteen years old aide of Devaki Dei looks flushed with excitement.
Ladies serving as companion to queens and princesses come from noble families. They are except from any arduous work. It is prestigious for the chieftains to send their daughters to royalty for learning etiquettes. This often helps in finding prospective grooms, especially from the inner circle of the king. Champa, daughter of a commander in the cavalry of royal army has been practically brought up by Devaki. Haimavati is often indulgent to her, ever since, her only daughter Durgavati had been married off four years ego.
Champa at her budding youth has a captivating persona, capable of illuminating the surrounding with her sheer presence.

“Devaki Dei, have you heard of the acrobatics performed every evening? Padma says it is wonderful! Some men from a distant land perform on horseback. When will we visit the fair?”
         
“Champa, you are grown up now, can not go to a crowded fair unescorted. I have more than enough on my plate to indulge in such foolery.”

“But you promised me yesterday….. How can you go back on you words?” Her eyes shine with mischievous smile.

Devaki caught in the situation, surrenders;

“Ok, I shall request Darbar Singh to accompany you, take Padma and Naina along.”


“Oh no! Old Darbar talks too much, he won’t allow us to concentrate on the performance!” Champa makes a face and runs away.

A dashing soldier in his early youth rides the horse at brisk pace, followed by a distinguished carriage. Constant giggles divulge the presence of young girls within the enclosure; their young escort Veer Singh being the source of amusement. Veer Singh the nephew of Darbar Singh, is a new recruit in the brigade of Royal Palace Guards. Darbar Singh’s gout attack explains his current responsibility.
Veer looks unperturbed by the noise; only a thin smile betrays his apparent indifference. He knows Champa for some time now and aspires for a greater responsibility in future; Champa is not averse to the idea.


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An elaborate convoy of army has flooded over, dominating the landscape of Bundelkhand. A sea of tents of different sizes and status have congregated across the centre. Tents are arranged in layers of circles, providing security walls to the innermost sphere. Sher Shah Suri is engrossed in meeting with his commanders inside the centre-most tent. Sher Shah like all Afghans, tall and massive carries the bearing of a warrior more than an Emperor. Simplicity of the interior of his current lodging also substantiates that fact. The issue of the ongoing discussion involves King Kirat Rai Singh.

Chittor recently has succumbed to the valor of the great Emperor without resistance. King Udai Singh (II), merely a child was no match to the master strategist of war. Now it is time to take over Bundelkhand. Subjugation of Rajputana is crucial for building a strong empire.

Sher Shah is not in favor of unnecessary bloodshed. He intends to invite the Chandela King for discussion.

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A deathly silence prevails in the court of Kirat Rai Singh; Emperor’s summon has reached the king in that very afternoon. The invisible shadow of the impending aggressor clouds the festive milieu.

‘There is no question of meeting the Afghan for sure.” Commander in chief Jagat Rai speaks out.

“War is inevitable, in that case. Are we ready for it?” Chieftain Baldeo responds.

“In fair battle, Kalinjar is invincible; advantage of height and our fortification proved that in the past. But when have these infidels fought ethical war?” retorts minister Udham rai.

King breaks his silence at last, “We don’t really have a choice, for that matter. Let us strengthen our defense. Lord Neelkanth be with us.”
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The South Eastern wing of the palace overlooks a garden dominated by colorful flowers and artificial fountains. A duet statue of Kamdev and Rati represent one of the many architectural splendors of the palace. In the pathway, Young Veer Singh is showcasing his archery skill to a few on duty Royal guards. Probably his target audience remains within one of the palace balconies.

Veer selects four arrows from his quiver and place them on the ground. Then bent on knees he Shoots them in quick succession towards the sky. The arrows join each other in perfect chain and fall on the ground beside. Onlookers remain awestruck with the performance. There is one more witness to this act; Minister Udham Rai Singh on his way to the treasury notices the entire episode.

He comes forward at the end of the act, his presence makes others nervous. Ignoring everyone else he reaches Veer and asks him to repeat the action. Veer Singh obliges, not once but twice.

Udham Singh enquires his whereabouts and takes him along.


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It has been over ten months, since; Sher Shah has initiated aggression against Kalinjar. All attempts of infiltration have failed so far. It is impossible to cause any serious harm to the defenders at that height. Scaling the mountain or the wall has also proved to be fatal.

It is early in the morning; eastern sky is painted with the rising sun. The Emperor, standing on a heightened platform is overseeing the cavalry arrangement. A fresh attempt is being initiated to attack the fort wall.

While supervising the shooting of arrows, he curiously notices the archers on elephant mount. Their shoots consistently being reached further than those on horse back. A shrewd smile breaks in his grave face.

Sher Shah has invented a unique strategy that raises hope in the Army. He has ordered his men to erect several mounds at strategic points. From a considerable height, it will be possible to fire shells, even arrows inside the fort.

Construction work on mounds is at full swing, Emperor administers with satisfaction. He remembers his days as a private in Bengal Army, the zest that made him the conqueror has not yet faded. He will win this war too.


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Kirat Singh at his private court is engrossed in deep conversation with five most trusted confederates. The months long battle has disheveled his normal serenity. Sher Shah with his new tact has managed to reach out to the fort wall with constant shelling. The out come of the war is evident; it is only a matter of time for him to break the final defense.
“We need to do something to prevent this catastrophe. Sher Shah needs to be stopped at any cost.”

“What are you hinting at Udham Singh? Be specific” Kings looks curious.

“To win over the infidels, we need to think in their way. If Sher Shah can not be confronted in battle field the only solution is Assassination.” Udham Singh utters in a voice of steel.

“But how? Who can penetrate the security of the Afghan Army?”

“He does not need to breach the security. Rajan, trust me and don’t insist on divulging further. Secrecy is the key to success in this mission.”

“You have my permission Udham, I need to protect my people from savagery at any cost.”


It is second prahar of a moonless night. Veer Singh is being escorted to the secret passage of the fort that leads to the foothill. Dressed as a conjurer, his bow and arrow is camouflaged with other jugglery instruments. A silent figure waits patiently at the doorway. Veer stops to take leave from Champa.

          “I will wait for you on your return.’’ Her voice sounds wet.

She hands over a small cage with a messenger pigeon to Veer;-

“Free it once you succeed on your mission, I shall know your home coming.”

“I will come back Champa, for you, for my homeland.”


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The Imperial army is ready for final assault; Sher Shah on the highest mound near the fort wall glares with fervor. A large stock of gun powder is heaped near by. Skilled musket men have been deputed on other mounds targeting the fort wall. Shelling starts at his signal; Emperor himself targets inside the fort.

Township is being massacred by unrelenting shoot, helpless cries of innocents fill the air. Rajput warriors are busy in fighting their last battle. Ladies of the Fort prepare for Jauhar (mass self immolation).  

An arrow with fireball falls on the mass of gun powder resulting in massive explosion. Deafening sound shakes the battle ground; Sher Shah falls-out of the mound. Commanders rush to his rescue causing a great chaos. Emperor gravely burnt does not loose consciousness. He urges to continue the assault; he should die victorious.

Inside the imperial tent, Sher Shah lies on banana leaves. His body is plastered with sandal paste. The severity of his pain could not overpower the great warrior. Even a small sound outside the tent alerts him.

Late in the afternoon, Commander Nimatullah enters the tent softly; Emperor looks up. Nimatullah nods, a sigh escapes;-

          “Praise be to God; this was my very desire.” Emperor utters his last word.


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The town within the fort carries silence of death. Houses are massacred; bodies lie scattered in the open. Even the palace reflects a picture of devastated debris. Not a dog dares to bark, neither a bird sings.

Far above in the afternoon sky, a white pigeon peacefully makes its way towards the south-east wing of the palace.


Epilogue


King Kirat Rai Singh along with seventy Rajput officers hid in a building at the rear of the fort. He probably wanted to flee and accumulate force from other Rajput kingdoms in order to avenge the destruction. Post Sher Shah’s death his commanders captured them and brutally slaughtered. Sher Shah’s son Islam Shah ascended the throne of Suri Dynasty.


Note:

This is a fictional story surrounding the accidental death of Sher Shah Suri while capturing Kalinjar fort. Sher Shah, Commander Nimatullah, King Kirat Rai Singh, his legendary daughter Durgavati were real characters from history, while rest are result of my imagination. The death of such a mighty Emperor Sher Shah by a mere accidental misfire of shell has never been convincing to me, hence, nudged my imagination in writing the story.

‘Kalinjar (the defier of death) was named after ‘Neelkanth Mahadev’; as believed to be resting on that hill after consuming the poison evolved while extracting Amrit. In my story there are two defier of death; the fort that still stand high reminding us of the glorious past and the indomitable Sher Shah considered to be one of the most gifted Emperors.


©2013 ananyapal ALL RIGHTS RESERVED