"If you dare question my birth, ask it to my strength, to my sun like aura and my armor - earring. Read my history, if you have the capability in my shining persona. If Arjuna is the mighty Kshatriya he claims to be, then let him come forward and prove it to me. I will let you know my glorious clan after I have acquired his bow and arrow from him." Kripacharya answered " You are getting angry for no cause, dear Karn for only a ruler of a kingdom has the right to fight such a mighty Rajputa."
Unable to face the disgrace, an unquiet occupied Karn. Suyodhana rose "It's a sin that you mock him so, a man who glows like a heavenly orb. It is difficult to realize the power of a river, of a warrior for what is a Kshatriya's real test if not his skills? With pious acts do men become great, only cowards forever beseech their fate. Who did not fail to admire when Karn walked ahead, did not a reverend silence fall upon the crowd? Karn may be a charioteer's son, a Sudra but pale in front of him are all the royalties. Is it fair to jibe at such a jewel of the earth, at such a greatness amongst us mere mortals? If u deem him not fit to be brave without a kingdom, let this be heard by all, I bestow over him the kingdom of Angadesha." The spectators went wild as he lifted the crown from his head and placed it upon Karn. He, the poor lad he had always been, unable to cope with this sudden twist in fate fell into Suyodhana's arms. The latter embracing him said " Friend, why do you act so, for such a trivial reason. This gift of kingdom would not matter to me a bit if in return you just give me your hand in friendship." Karn melted with emotions " Oh, to have a friend too. My dear friend, henceforth we shall be one soul in two bodies. The pride you have bestowed upon me, for the first time in my life can I raise my head in this crowd. How will i repay the mighty gift you give me, O friend tell me of what use can i come to you?"
Humanity flooded across these friends, for haven't humans forever lauded courageousness. No matter how you try to pull down a man, the society does recognize true greatness when at hand. Everyone started showering praises on Karn and soon the stadium was full of flowers and saffron. Karn baffled by these praises bowed and the stadium erupted with the chants of " Long Live Angesh(god of Angadesh)! Long live Angesh!" "King Angesh!" Unable to bear this attack to his ego, Bheema said in absence of anything worthwhile "This is the fault of our society, raises anyone to these exalted position. How can a charioteer's son rule a kingdom?" Duryodhana replied "Bheema! You call yourself the righteous yet why do you murmur so, why do you poison your heart such? For how is a man great if he cannot help others, for acts are the true tests of a man not his birth clan. Wasn't Karn correct when he asked you about your father, if you know the mystery do enlighten us so. This fault in society I cannot overlook, this sudden blindness when measuring their own sins." Kripacharya trying to placate the scene, said "Shame, what slanderous talks you are exchanging. Look dusk is upon us, the sun has almost melted, let us retreat to our abodes now."
So walked the crowd singing praises of Karna to their homes. Only Guru Drona, walked separate along with Arjuna "Alas Arjuna, Who is this new contender we have to face now?"
P.S- Karn was born with an armor attached to his upper abdomen and a pair of earrings.
Thursday, 18 March 2010
Wednesday, 17 March 2010
The Sun's Charioteer
Henceforth I will try to paraphrase two pages out of the epic poem 'Rashmirathi' by Ramdhari Singh Dinkar daily. Rashmirathi in Hindi stands for the Sun's Charioteer. Ramdhari Singh Dinkar was hailed as the "Rashtriya kavi' or the national poet. In this poem, the poet has depicted certain scenes out of the great Indian epic, 'Mahabharata', pertaining to Karn. Karn was the illegitimate son of Kunti and the Sun God. Kunti since she was unmarried when she asked for a son as a boon which was fulfilled in the form of Karn, had set her son adrift in the river to prevent her from being condemned by the society.
Salutations to the man who harbors virtues of the eternal fire for No matter where a flower grows it is still heart warming. A wise man is he who does not recognize the differences of birth, great is he who has learned the art of divine charity. The real warrior is one who knows no fear, the real ascetic is one who is alight with the flame of renunciation.
The wise do not gain praise by showing off their high birth but earn the world's praises by showing of their talents. The society might mock those of lower clan but make their mark they do on history's plan.
His father was Sun and mother Kunti Kumari. To one of such a birth, life could only provide a a broken wicker basket set adrift in river. Brought up amongst charioteers and even without the taste of his mother's milk on his lips, yet Karn grew up to be the greatest among the valorous. Strong of body, sentimental of heart, merciful by nature,not of his birth but of himself was Karn proud. Knowledge of Shastras and of weapons he had full, with his brilliance he gave knowledge in this field a mighty pull. He prayed in his corner, far from the maddening crowd of cities. Selflessly lost in his prayers and practicing his skills day and night, Karn bloomed like the unknown flowers in a forest. Not all that is brilliant grows in the royal gardens for the nature keeps it's dearest deep hidden in its bosom. But hidden in the darkness how long can the sun hide, for one day with the rise of youth rose the son divine.
Showing off his skills, Arjuna stood in the stadium while the crowd cheered. Tearing away the crowd, Karn stood up to the former,sneered. "Amongst this accolade why do you grow so proud? Here let me show my skills, my clout.Here watch what all I am capable of and realize how little have you explored these realms" With such vigor Karn displayed his acumen, watched with amazed wonderment Ajuna and every other men and women.
With the chants of 'Sadhu, Sadhu' the crowd grew wild. The royals in their balconies shifted and sweated in fear. The Pandavas, Dronacharya, Bheeshma all worried in their seats while Suyodhana(Duryodhana) alone rose up on his feet and congratulated Karn."'Brilliant. Bravo!" Karn then challenged Arjuna to wrestle him in the very ground but the latter's Guru signaled him to remain seated. Kripacharya (Arjuna's Guru) said' Listen rebel,Arjuna is the grand child of the noble Lord Bharata and you young man are unknown. A proud Kshatriya, Rajput is Arjuna. Do not expect him to fight just any man in the crowd. If you wish to fight Arjuna, then do not feign innocence, break this silence and enlighten us about your heritage, your lineage." "My clan, Alas my clan!" with these thoughts Karn fell silent, with bitter eyes looked up at the sky and proclaimed "Lineage, Birth, that's all that matters to the meek. What do i know of my lineage for my might and my valor is my clan. You might be clad in golden robes but your heart are smeared with ink. Do you feel no shame, when you ask me my father's name. I am the son of a charioteer but who is Arjuna's father i ask? If an ounce of pride do you posses then go ahead answer don't let my question go in vain. Reciting your lineage you walk with your head held high while trampling the poor underneath without uttering a sigh. With fear of those of lower births shiver your souls and it is you who asked for the students thumb."
Salutations to the man who harbors virtues of the eternal fire for No matter where a flower grows it is still heart warming. A wise man is he who does not recognize the differences of birth, great is he who has learned the art of divine charity. The real warrior is one who knows no fear, the real ascetic is one who is alight with the flame of renunciation.
The wise do not gain praise by showing off their high birth but earn the world's praises by showing of their talents. The society might mock those of lower clan but make their mark they do on history's plan.
His father was Sun and mother Kunti Kumari. To one of such a birth, life could only provide a a broken wicker basket set adrift in river. Brought up amongst charioteers and even without the taste of his mother's milk on his lips, yet Karn grew up to be the greatest among the valorous. Strong of body, sentimental of heart, merciful by nature,not of his birth but of himself was Karn proud. Knowledge of Shastras and of weapons he had full, with his brilliance he gave knowledge in this field a mighty pull. He prayed in his corner, far from the maddening crowd of cities. Selflessly lost in his prayers and practicing his skills day and night, Karn bloomed like the unknown flowers in a forest. Not all that is brilliant grows in the royal gardens for the nature keeps it's dearest deep hidden in its bosom. But hidden in the darkness how long can the sun hide, for one day with the rise of youth rose the son divine.
Showing off his skills, Arjuna stood in the stadium while the crowd cheered. Tearing away the crowd, Karn stood up to the former,sneered. "Amongst this accolade why do you grow so proud? Here let me show my skills, my clout.Here watch what all I am capable of and realize how little have you explored these realms" With such vigor Karn displayed his acumen, watched with amazed wonderment Ajuna and every other men and women.
With the chants of 'Sadhu, Sadhu' the crowd grew wild. The royals in their balconies shifted and sweated in fear. The Pandavas, Dronacharya, Bheeshma all worried in their seats while Suyodhana(Duryodhana) alone rose up on his feet and congratulated Karn."'Brilliant. Bravo!" Karn then challenged Arjuna to wrestle him in the very ground but the latter's Guru signaled him to remain seated. Kripacharya (Arjuna's Guru) said' Listen rebel,Arjuna is the grand child of the noble Lord Bharata and you young man are unknown. A proud Kshatriya, Rajput is Arjuna. Do not expect him to fight just any man in the crowd. If you wish to fight Arjuna, then do not feign innocence, break this silence and enlighten us about your heritage, your lineage." "My clan, Alas my clan!" with these thoughts Karn fell silent, with bitter eyes looked up at the sky and proclaimed "Lineage, Birth, that's all that matters to the meek. What do i know of my lineage for my might and my valor is my clan. You might be clad in golden robes but your heart are smeared with ink. Do you feel no shame, when you ask me my father's name. I am the son of a charioteer but who is Arjuna's father i ask? If an ounce of pride do you posses then go ahead answer don't let my question go in vain. Reciting your lineage you walk with your head held high while trampling the poor underneath without uttering a sigh. With fear of those of lower births shiver your souls and it is you who asked for the students thumb."
Sunday, 14 March 2010
A dirty Sheet IV
How beautiful is this concept of a full-stop. The reader never knows how long the gap between a full stop is.The two sentences could have been separated by a year or by mere moments. Yes, it has been time since i wrote last. Life suddenly engulfs you and like a wave takes you far away from the shore and somewhere in the sea it leaves you alone. All alone to swim back against the same wave to the shore. Guess i have reached shore at last. I read these sheets before i start typing them and i believe the mad man had had some education. Where? How? I guess we shall never know. Anyways, you do not care about my stories, so we shall move ahead with the diaries:
"
Gandhi came by yesterday. Sad old man he is now. Killed by his son, for wasn't he the Father of the Nation. The anguish of partition had already obliterated his former belief in humanity, the bullet was just a means to dispose off his human body. I didn't ask him, but he sat down beside me anyways. What was I supposed to tell him? Console him for his nation was not all that bad or question him about his anti-mechanization , anti-Patel tirades? He spoke first, "Times have changed but have the people? How does my nation do now?". I said reassuringly "Baapu (what else was i supposed to call him? Mohandas? Gandhi?), poverty has decreased, this is a stronger nation now. Everything's just fine". For what use was troubling this frail old man with your problems. "Do you remember me?" I was taken aback. Remember me? Ha, i remembered you, you who are imprinted on Rupee notes were in my palms once, but then now i have lost even that touch with you. "They do, baapu. You are remembered everywhere, from parks to streets to our currency notes. They see to it no one forgets you." He wasn't amused, with downcast eyes and a sigh he sat silent now. It was morning already, the rush had begun, the queue for taxi had started forming. This town teeming with people had begun the daily cycle already. "You all question me don't you? They are angry with me. My sons doubt me, my grandchildren mock me. If I was to be derided by future generations, I wish someone had drowned me to have no processions after my death, to have no grave. Do i know not that you think i am a coward, a hapless old fool. I who...". Suddenly he choked on tears that did not shed from his eyes, the emotions exhausted him. The dogs had formed an audience for this sketch. I was at a loss of words, I was supposed to be seated at the station entrance,begging now. "Baapu, they don't mock you Baapu. It's just that they are juvenile yet and haven't realized your reasoning yet. They will understand someday. Be proud that at least they are doing good. For haven't children always thought themselves better than their parents and haven't they always done the opposite of what their fathers asked them to do?" He looked questioningly at me. "What about you?" "What about me?" "Do you hate me?" I sat silent. Did I? Did I hate the guy who wasted his life, his family, himself for this nation of mine? Did i abhor his non-violent victimization of a nation? He kept looking at me with eyes which understood the meaning of the silence. A tremor passed through my body, had i betrayed him? Should i question him? And he was gone. Like the memories of childhood he had faded away. The distinct un-easiness remained with me through out the day. The collection in the begging bowl was good today, maybe because of the pain reflected in my eyes reminiscing his words. But then these are changed times and you all have changed. Have you? "
"
Gandhi came by yesterday. Sad old man he is now. Killed by his son, for wasn't he the Father of the Nation. The anguish of partition had already obliterated his former belief in humanity, the bullet was just a means to dispose off his human body. I didn't ask him, but he sat down beside me anyways. What was I supposed to tell him? Console him for his nation was not all that bad or question him about his anti-mechanization , anti-Patel tirades? He spoke first, "Times have changed but have the people? How does my nation do now?". I said reassuringly "Baapu (what else was i supposed to call him? Mohandas? Gandhi?), poverty has decreased, this is a stronger nation now. Everything's just fine". For what use was troubling this frail old man with your problems. "Do you remember me?" I was taken aback. Remember me? Ha, i remembered you, you who are imprinted on Rupee notes were in my palms once, but then now i have lost even that touch with you. "They do, baapu. You are remembered everywhere, from parks to streets to our currency notes. They see to it no one forgets you." He wasn't amused, with downcast eyes and a sigh he sat silent now. It was morning already, the rush had begun, the queue for taxi had started forming. This town teeming with people had begun the daily cycle already. "You all question me don't you? They are angry with me. My sons doubt me, my grandchildren mock me. If I was to be derided by future generations, I wish someone had drowned me to have no processions after my death, to have no grave. Do i know not that you think i am a coward, a hapless old fool. I who...". Suddenly he choked on tears that did not shed from his eyes, the emotions exhausted him. The dogs had formed an audience for this sketch. I was at a loss of words, I was supposed to be seated at the station entrance,begging now. "Baapu, they don't mock you Baapu. It's just that they are juvenile yet and haven't realized your reasoning yet. They will understand someday. Be proud that at least they are doing good. For haven't children always thought themselves better than their parents and haven't they always done the opposite of what their fathers asked them to do?" He looked questioningly at me. "What about you?" "What about me?" "Do you hate me?" I sat silent. Did I? Did I hate the guy who wasted his life, his family, himself for this nation of mine? Did i abhor his non-violent victimization of a nation? He kept looking at me with eyes which understood the meaning of the silence. A tremor passed through my body, had i betrayed him? Should i question him? And he was gone. Like the memories of childhood he had faded away. The distinct un-easiness remained with me through out the day. The collection in the begging bowl was good today, maybe because of the pain reflected in my eyes reminiscing his words. But then these are changed times and you all have changed. Have you? "
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