TAPASVINĪ
Original Oriya Epic Poem By : Poet Gańgādhara Meher (1862-1924)
Complete English Translation By : Dr. Harekrishna Meher
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[Canto-3 has been taken from pages 33-46 of my English Book
‘ Tapasvinī of Gańgādhara Meher ’
Published by : R.N. Bhattacharya, A-217, Road No.4, HB Town, Sodepur,
Kolkata-700110, India, First Edition : 2009, ISBN : 81-87661-63-1]
*
For Introduction, please see,
‘ Tapasvinī of Gańgādhara Meher : A Critical Observation ’ :
Link : http://hkmeher.blogspot.com/2007/08/tapasvini-of-gangadhara-meher-critical.html
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Tapasvinī [Canto-3]
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On the bank of Bhāgīrathī , while
Lakshmaņa deserted Sītā to exile,
Sunshine had spread that moment
all over the regions
of the world along with oceans
neath the fair firmament.
As if it was a white screen
draped over by Sun
after deliberation
that a shame it would be, if the affliction
of Rāma’s Queen was seen
to the deities’ dominion.
Knowing that secret discreetly,
to disclose the flaw of Sun’s race,
Dusk lifted swiftly
the screen from earth’s surface.
Called by the birds nearby,
Stars in the courtyard of sky,
coming one after another
hugely assembled together.
They viewed :
Rāmachandra, the scion of Sun’s ancestry,
has sat alone in the yard, vast solitary.
With tears appeared
his eyes were bedewed ;
with dejection visage withered.
He was thinking :
“The right of a king
is in fact a guise
of great slavery.
In this high seat,
the only job is
to render service sincerely,
at the people’s feet.
While hundreds of mouth
together a lie tell,
it is oft accepted as truth
obeying them very well,
though to be sure,
it’s known falsehood pure.
In the peace-sacrifice of public, again
king’s happiness is oblation indeed.
Fastened with the strong duty-chain
in his work he can’t proceed.
What is done coronation
is really a mere reformation.
What shall we call fanning the chowries ?
It’s nothing but whisking flies.
There might, of course,
be no remourse
in happiness even in the heart of a deity.
The king, therefore,
is a great god and furthermore
relishes the ambrosia of celebrity.
People’s blood forms water-drops.
Acquiring the throne of high props
the king becomes cloud mere,
for the public welfare.
In the water of earth, no thunder resides;
but in cloud, it naturally abides.
Mace in the hands of public
is not a matter of power,
but it’s terrific
in the hands of the emperor.
By the fire of lightning,
burnt may be own heart however,
compelled is cloud to give water.
Forsaking all the happiness, when the king
keeps his people gratified,
he, as an object
of supreme respect,
becomes identified.
Forming the highly elevated
head of ladder to heaven, if kingship
in the world-circle, is deviated
from own destination,
the king suffers destruction
falling into the doom’s abysm deep.
With equal vision and equal feeling,
holding a sceptre,
and rejoicing on kingship’s string,
he, magician-like,
turning very meek
doesn’t think of own life-chapter.
If the acrobat doesn’t proceed
after placing feet on the string,
some spectators shall indeed
jeer at him by clapping.
There the drum-holder
shall scold him further.
With life slackened verily
by severe separation
from my beloved Maithili,
if I don’t perform any action,
the human society
shall taunt me more in reality.
From people’s lips remark will slip :
‘In Raghu’s royal race
Rāma was born a disgrace.
And niggard in being scrupulous,
he abandoned the kingship
turning uxorious.’
Best is the Vānaprastha state;
but for me, it’s not the time appropriate.
To discharge the duties of mine indeed
how shall Bharata be agreed ?
Day by day, affection
for a thing on lap deteriorates ;
since it’s observed very often.
When empty becomes the lap,
pining for the same thing after gap,
the hearty affection proliferates
many multiplied times to measure
like a zero-suffixed mathematical number. [1]
Never immortal is the gross body.
Ever immortal is mind only.
When link is not severed from mind,
happiness is happiness in true sense to find.
Has anybody kept his life for ever,
by earning material treasure
in the world of mortals
and adorning the gold crown
on his head own ?
As his rivals,
glory and slander, being uncontrolled
by time, stand very bold.
People of the world very well
determine the way to heaven and hell.
Setting aside all rumours of others,
the mean mind endeavours
to hanker after the enjoyment,
material and transient.
At home she’s not present;
no matter however.
In the love-lake of heart, efflorescent
is my beloved Lotus-bud alone,
and my mind’s drone
is rapt in relishing her flavour.
O Eyes ! perplexed, why
are you showering water ?
If the lake becomes dry,
my Lotus-maiden shall terribly totter.
O Chest !
Be the dam strongest.
Check the canals of water from eyes.
O Breath ! Blow not strong ; otherwise
my life-shelter
shall severely falter.
Lakshmaņa shall come and intimate
all the matters
about my beloved life-mate.
O Dear Ears !
Don’t be restless.
You’ll hear and discard distress.
O Heated Skin !
Breeze shall remove very well
your perspirations within.
It’s coming anear
by wafting the sweet smell
of holy limbs of my dear
lotus-fragrant heat-soothing
sedative beloved darling.
One thing more I like to tell ;
Be united with mind and hasten to dwell
in the lake of heart where bliss sublime,
you all will sportively enjoy for endless time.
There abides my life-mate
new Lotus-maiden in full efflorescence.
Ever-scintillating and never-set
remains the Sun of reminiscence.
Don’t get involved, Ye Tongue ! therein.
Abide by the words of mine.
From the people,
you’ve eaten wealth ample.
By whose wealth you are nurtured,
to follow them don’t feel demurred.
In the mundane sphere,
public welfare
ought to be maintained.
Hence my life has sustained.
Otherwise, see,
how could have it
drunk the thunderbolt unsplit
by liquefying like ghee ?
Myna and parrot,
out of the cage shall go further.
Dawned let the night be.
I’ll make them free
from their chain.
They shall utter not
the word ‘Sītā’ again
to pester you hereafter.
Fawn will go to my darling
whose feet are dyed
with painting lac charming.
For the neck indeed,
the line of lac, I muse,
forms the coloured strong fastening noose.
Why shall the peacock-pair remain
crying again and again ?
Let Bhīmarāja bird go sharp. [2]
Emulating whose voice it will chirp ?
Sans the sweet tone
of the proficient beloved music-mistress,
how shall the lute
gain the glory of grace ?
Consigned to the fault of destiny of own,
it shall remain mute.”
Rāma then for a moment
with own eyes shut,
making an ascent
to the peak of the mountain of thought,
beheld the time’s current
rushing forth with terrible torrent.
Emerging from its profound womb,
all the movable
and the immovable
vanish there to doom.
For a while like bubble
someone stays,
and someone becomes able
to last for a few days.
The mountain of glory
with lofty head,
never counting any dread,
kissing the firmament high,
within the stream terrible,
has remained bold and stable.
The brilliant-figured devoted chaste ladies
with their husbands couple-wise,
at the mountain-peak in exhilarations
meander for aeons and aeons.
There many a king
adorned with ornaments of flowers divine,
group-wise appear charming
seated in many a bejewelled shrine.
Poets, the mountain-dwellers,
greet them by holding hands of theirs,
the boats of whose bodies
have borne profuse
wealth of virtues
earned by means not with ease.
Some unscrupulous wicked fellows
try to climb there perforce,
and bearing thunderous pummellings
done by the poets, of course,
there stay with sorrows
and severe sufferings.
Observing their plight
when Rāma opened his sight,
beheld there, darkness dire
has enveloped the world entire.
With faces effulgent,
Stars are twinkling adorning the sky azure.
Nectarean Moon is not present;
yet unhindered is their pleasure.
“ O Stars ! You all are free,”
said Rāma, “In the prison
of Moon’s love, you’re not bound.
Abiding by the Destiny’s decree,
with concentration profound,
you rotate around the constellation.
Utterly difficult to bear
may be the distress of estrangement
from your dear lover;
yet for the world’s well-being,
forgetting the plight
and sincerely adhering
to your own commitment,
engrossed you’re in giving light.
Reaching the hermitage of Vālmīki,
the great noble seer,
please immediately impart
the holy learning
of your duty’s initiation.
Moonbeam of my heart,
my darling Jānakī,
sitting lonesome there,
with single concentration
on me, will be moaning.
During this night,
while Chakravākī will be
mourning with embarrassed heart there,
my beloved companion,
overpowered by compassion,
under a deep swoon might lie.
Her life she might
forsake further.
Showing the lake soon,
instance of lilies you’ll give.
Even in the absence
of the dearest Moon,
they do survive
with inner patience.
Matter of union, again you’ll deem not
to be a critical knot.
Extremely beauteous
the union of hearts is.
Very well you know thus;
so convince her please.
My lotus-eyed beloved companion
in this matter shall find there
no room for suspicion.
You’ll certainly tell her.
My feelings all of you really perceive.
Witness therefore you’ll give.
Flow of my own Self, moreover,
has spread in her womb there.
This matter you’ll speak while,
she’ll never say it futile.”
Was levity able to touch
the cavity of Rāma’s heart as such ?
With efforts fruitless,
the stars stared anon,
bringing darkness
in the path of vision.
Without understanding
the noble qualities of others, if a person
with interest deliberate,
becomes an expert in fault-finding,
there is probability of ridicule sheer,
destined by fate,
in the high position
of the very fault-seer.
The Stars had thought to derive delight
by seeing Rāma’s loopholes all;
but beholding the height
of his heart, they became
pallid, bent with shame
and suffered downfall.
Intolerant of seeing Rāma’s affliction,
there arose soon,
leaving the milk-ocean
at the advent of nocturnal hour,
the nectarean Moon
bearing heart torn with dolour.
Mocking at Chakravāka in spite,
Chakora bird loudly said :
“Don’t worry,
don’t worry.
Fasting has been writ
on your forehead.”
Such thing so far
why won’t he state ?
Destiny has poured nectar
into his mouth straight.
Observing other’s adversity verily,
the wealthy ones clap saddistically.
On this side
suffering estrangement,
King Rāma’s bride,
refraining herself from enjoyment
of royal harems
illumed with gems,
and of ivory-decked pleasure-couch,
was recalling the by-gone touch,
now abiding in the past-acquainted cottage
furnished with foliage,
occupying therein
a seat of deer-skin.
Of her life-lord
the sayings, word by word,
love-imbued and nectarine,
in her heart’s phonograph finding record,
of their own accord,
were ringing with tune distinctly fine.
His arms, straight, benign,
comely and emerald-lustred,
that discard all the dread,
were perspicuously visible within,
before her head,
in meditation mentally fostered.
Shunning sleep, remaining his escort,
as beforehand now
wielding arrow with bow,
Lakshmaņa, the companion-warrior,
not far off, alert,
was apparent in her memory’s mirror.
When she pondered
that the very life-lord of hers
along with half-brother,
has deserted her,
like lotuses dew-suffered,
her pallid eyes turned suffused with tears.
Beaten by the hand of date-plucker,
as Date-tree, still and mute,
gives up juice in woes,
so became Sītā’s condition thither
smitten by the blows
of anguish acute.
Thus the beloved and the lover
with recurring reminiscence
of feelings of each other,
resting on the seat of sorrow
and holding the sword of patience,
were hewing the nights somehow.
Caused by exhaustions
of Self and head, perspirations
in innumerable beads
with flow continuous,
were penetrating the cheeks thus,
further washing the bushes of eye-lids.
Bearing the shape
of an owl, Night expressed cry
and having short life in gradual manner,
encompassing the sky
with blood, survived there
by means of escape.
Surrendering ego of theirs
at the feet of the lover
and of the beloved as well,
the Stars in the form of flowers,
on earth there fell,
and to his noble self sought shelter.
King Rāma, the affectionate succour
of the refugees, established honour
with no pretensions
and conferred the boon with grace :
“For aeons and aeons
on heads, you all will find a place.”
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(Footnotes :
[1] The poet has used the word ‘Ańka’ which means both ‘lap’ and ‘number’. ‘Śūnya’ means ‘empty’ as well as ‘zero’. The number increases many times.
For example, 1 suffixed with zero or zeroes, becomes 10, 100, 1000 and so on.
[2] Bhīmarāja is a bird that utters various kinds of sounds; Mocking Bird.)
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(Canto-III of Tapasvinī ends.)
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