The Outward Look

                                 POEMS  AND  POETS

                 34. The Outward Look

Great poets everywhere are moved by lasting themes and lofty thought. This connects them in an invisible way with the basic currents of life, though the expressions are conditioned by the immediate cultural context one is familiar with. Hunger is universal, but 'Gives us this day our daily bread'  pleads the Lord's prayer, while our Rudram seeks 'wajascha me, godhumascha me' etc.

Poetic inspiration comes from many sources. It can be spiritual-intuitional, as in the Upanishads; it can be intellectual, or even a mere verbal exuberance and linguistic felicity. But true poetry must leave a hint  at least of something beyond the words or objects described. Thus when Tennyson makes the brook sing " for men may come and men may go, but I go on for ever", it is the  very Time Spirit which is addressing us in the form of the brook. Man's mortality is set against eternity. The site and sounds associated with the brook are beautiful, but it is not just the physical dimension which matters.

Any true artist has to take us beyond the physical medium. He has to use nature to make us transcend it. A painter makes us forget the canvas, or he is no artist. One who just reproduces nature is a photographer, not painter. Photography is limited by the instrument, painting is not, music is not. When we listen to Kenny G, are we mindful of the instrument, or the music? Does not the music take us beyond the instrument ? " That out of three sounds he frame, not a fourth sound but a star.", as said by Browning. Imitation is not art, but creativity is.

The same holds true with words. In the olden days, poetry was read or recited aloud, where the sound suggested something beyond the sense words conveyed. A poet is not a mere wordsmith. True inspiration brings words in its own train.Sri Aurobindo remarks:

"it is not sufficient for poetry to attain high intensities of word and rhythm; it must have, to fill them, an answering intensity of vision and always new and more and more uplifted or inward ranges of experience."

This we see in poets across cultures, ages. Sri Aurobindo, our greatest poet and Rasika writes:

" In spite of a broad gulf of difference we yet find an extraordinary basic kinship between these two very widely separated great ages of poetry, though there was never any possibility of contact between that earlier oriental and this later occidental work,- the dramas of Kalidasa and some of the dramatic romances of Shakespeare, plays like the Sanskrit Seal of Rakshasa and Toy-Cart and Elizabethan historic and melodramatic pieces, the poetry of the Cloud Messenger and erotic Elizabethan poetry, the romantically vivid and descriptive method of Spenser's Faerie Queene and the more intellectually romantic vividness and descriptive elaborateness of the Line of Raghu, the tone and manner of Drayton and that of the much greater work of Bharavi. This kinship arises from the likeness of essential motive and psychological basic type and emerges and asserts itself in spite of the enormous cultural difference."

                                  From: The Future Poetry p.126
                                   Sri Aurobindo Ashram,2000

For the last thousand years or so, India has not expressed its soul in Sanskrit poetry; nor in regional poetry,either, except in the Bhakti movement. In modern times, this spirit briefly raised its head in Bengali, in a Bankim Chandra, or Tagore, and in Tamil in Subramanya Bharati. Alas, it was all too brief.

Providence brought English to India, but the education that became its vehicle made us  revolve "around a lawyer's office and a Government cutcherry, ...far away from the great stream of world's living thought and action"....giving us " the falsest possible education, a knowledge always twenty-five or fifty years behind the time.", in the words of Sri Aurobindo. Even so, the English language and literature remain our only window to the world, painfully small as it is. We have to ensure that this does not fall a victim to cultural chauvinism in the name of narrow patriotism, or linguistic jingoism..

                                                       

Golden Age

                                               POEMS AND POETS

                        25. A GOLDEN AGE?

Societies with a long,continuous tradition generally look up to some past age as being the ideal, in any case better  than the current one. Of course. different people have their own criteria. But the idea of a golden past is common.

This  happens in almost all  fields. Sometimes, we speak of the 'Golden Fifties' in some connection. But in the 50s, my grandfather used to talk of the pre-War (I) as the golden years.. In India, a full silver rupee circulated, and gold was cheap. Movie buffs certainly consider the Hindi movie music of the 50s as golden.

But the trend in the literary field is more firm and gets set in time. This becomes the standard 'canon'  which becomes compulsory reading for subsequent generations. But with the explosion in the publications and literary activity, and the publicity business, this is losing all meaning in our time. The best seller cult is difficult to judge. 

Only a few books stand out at any time, stand in time. 'Gone with the Wind' became celebrated, its author becoming world famous with just a single book. But its appeal is only to a limited audience. Personally, I like to think of 'To Kill A Mocking Bird' ( Harper Lee) and 'To Sir With Love' ( Braithwaite) as the outstanding stories of our time. Fortunately, both were made into good movies, which is rather rare. The message was simple, and its effect was humanising-we all wanted to become better people. I liked the sober quality of Nevil Shute's novels. I like him immensely. I liked A.J.Cronin, but somehow his 'The Judas Tree' deeply disturbed me. I gave up reading novels thereafter. There were a few stray ones- like Fate is the Hunter by Ernest K.Gann, A Ram in the Thicket by Frank G.Robertson,etc which I enjoyed. I liked Ralph Moody too, whatever people may say about the 'crude language'. His 'Man  of the Family' affected me deeply. It is such books that influence us in the long run. I confess I am also a fan of Louis L'Amour. Not for the action, but for the way he depicts an age and its mores. His descriptions of the landscape are the best I like after Thomas Hardy. I  found many sentences worthy of being underlined. But I get only hardbound editions- the mass market paperbacks are worse than saw dust.

I feel a book must make us better in some way. There is no point in reading a book to merely 'spend time' as if time is standing still and will accumulate  without our spending it. It seems so absurd to me. It has become so difficult to get a simple magazine with simple, nice stories and poems. 

Or, even books. I have been buying books for over 50 years. Good books are costly. The so called paperbacks  are outrageously badly printed and bound. It is a blot on our civilization. The classics in the paperback editions-by any international publisher- are just horribly printed and bound.  Even standard reputed publishers seem to  have forgotten  or given up the art of making a durable book, with sewn binding at affordable prices..But the more durable editions will not only put a hole in your pocket, they will set your house on fire. Try getting a good edition of Palgrave's Golden Treasury now! The fall in the standards of book manufacture seems to match the fall in the quality of current writing. Anything can be written, and anything  will sell.

This trend was identified by Wordsworth 200 years ago! He wrote in 1802: 

"a multitude of causes, unknown to former times, are now acting with a combined force to blunt the discriminating powers of the mind, and unfitting it for all voluntary exertion to reduce it to a state of almost savage torpor. The most effective of these causes are the great national events which are daily taking place, and the increasing accumulation of men in cities, where the uniformity of their occupations produces a craving for extraordinary incident, which the rapid communication of intelligence hourly gratifies. To this tendency of life and manners the literature and the theatrical exhibitions of the country have conformed themselves."

How stunningly prescient these words are, written two hundred years ago! This is the poets' sensibility we have been talking about! These words constitute poetry in prose!  The glorification of trivia in the national press, all the focus and attention on the seamy side of human affairs, all the meaningless entertainment beamed non-stop  by the TV channels have all  been foreseen here! What is the responsibility of a writer then? Wordsworth's words again:

" the human mind is capable of being excited without the application of  gross and violent stimulants; and he must have a very faint perception of its beauty and dignity who does not know this, and who does not further know, that one being is elevated above another, in proportion as he possesses this capability......to endeavour to produce or enlarge this capability is one of the best services in which, at any period, a Writer can be engaged; but this service, excellent at all times,is especially so at the present day."

Alas! These have become  a cry in the wilderness. "The degrading thirst after outrageous stimulation" has become the mark of  the literary work of our day, and dominates our visual media. And everyone says this is what people want, or "goes". But we go down with them!

It is little wonder then that Wordsworth looked up to a past age with nostalgia, and upon past greats with  undisguised admiration.

Wordsworth
'Great Men have been among us'

Great  Men have been among us; hands that penned
And Tongues that uttered wisdom, better none:
The later Sydney,Marvel,Harrington,
Young Vane, and others who called Milton Friend.
These Moralists could act and comprehend:
They knew how genuine glory was put on;
Taught us how rightfully a nation shone
In splendour: what strength was, that would not bend
But in magnanimous meekness.

'Not to bend our knees before insolent might', wrote Tagore.
What happens when a country lacks them?

France,'tis strange,
Hath brought forth no such souls as we had then,
Perpetual emptiness! unceasing change!
No single Volume paramount, no code,
No master spirit, no determined road;
But equally a want of Books and Men!

We have to let these words sink in us,touch our consciousness. Great men live us in their books after them. But in the absence of both  great books and great men, we have nothing more than a glamorous emptiness and unceasing change! Let us recall how one great man like Bankim Chandra or Rabindranath Tagore raised our awareness and electrified the nation! They symbolised the whole nation and the human spirit. Let us ask ourselves whether any thing or any one moves us so, now?

Wordsworth can be even more specific.

London ( 1802)

Milton! thou should'st be living at this hour:
England hath need of thee: she is a fen
Of stagnant waters: altar,sword, and pen,
Fireside, the heroic wealth of hall and bower,
Have forfeited their ancient English dower
Of inward happiness. We are selfish men;
Oh! raise us up, return to us again;
And give us manners, virtue,freedom, power.
Thy soul was like a Star and dwelt apart;
Thou hadst a voice whose sound was like the sea;
Pure as the naked heavens,majestic,free,
So didst thou travel on life's common way,
In chearful godliness, and yet thy heart
The lowliest duties on itself did lay.

It is great men who, by their life and works provide us the ideals by which to live. Which nation can aspire to greatness, and its people to happiness if it lacks the example of such great lives before them?

The importance of the presence of wise people in a society is brought to us from an obscure corner of the ancient Tamil land. Grey hair is usually taken as the sign of advancing age, and /or undue worry. But in a village, an old man is found without grey hair! People are surprised, and they ask him. This is what he tells them.

Pisiraandaiyaar

If you ask me  how come that my hair
Has not turned grey, though my age is advanced far,
Now, listen:
My virtuous wife is ever supportive;
My children are full in learning and virtue;
My servants complete tasks, knowing my mind:
The king- he refrains from unbecoming acts, and
                                   protects the righteous way.
But above all this:
In the place where I live-
There live many virtuous elders, who
Having overcome the temptations of the flesh,
Inquired into Truth and settled in that Peace
That has become their forte.


How can an age which sets store by material standards ever understand such things? After all, they do not figure in the GDP!

One World And Work!

 

                               Poets and Poems

                                 Musings on Life and Letters

                      13. One World And Work

All great people-  philosophers or poets, economists or statesmen, why even conquerors- have risen above the limitations of their origin and dreamt of one world. Their methods varied. Indian Nobel Laureate Rabindranath Tagore gave voice to this universal aspiration of enlightened minds in these immortal words:

        "Where the world has not been broken up into

            fragments by narrow domestic walls"

An Indian quoting it now may not sound authentic  or carry conviction, seeing how India itself has been balkanised by narrow linguistic walls, after Independence. Whatever may be the real and imagined demerits of  introduction of the English language that Indian politicians drum up, ( ironically, Gandhi also belonged to this tribe) English has been the language of educated India for 200 years.

Providence has endowed India with a rich variety of native tongues,with which to sing her many splendoured glories.There are hundreds of dialects, but they are fast shrinking. In modern days, Hindi itself has gobbled up many of the North Indian dialects. This is a danger faced by the whole world, where many old languages are going out of use, under the impact of modernisation.

The major Indian languages are unimaginably rich in literature. There is a common core of philosophy in them all- weather Telugu or Tamil, Kannada or Malayalam, Gujarati or Marathi, Odiya or Bengali, or any of the dialects like Kari Baoli, Braj Basha, Awadhi, Rajasthani,etc, which are now grouped under Hindi, the basic religious /philosophical theme is the same : human life has four-fold aim, and the purpose of life is Liberation from mundane existence, whatever may be the method. Modern bookish scholars are fond of saying that India shows 'Unity in diversity'. This is utter nonsense considering how the basic conception of life is the same. What we have in India is the diverse expression of the Unity. This is the historical greatness of India. It never confused unity with uniformity, or enforced it brutally. As Alain Danielou pointed out, India stood for a "natural ordering of diversity". This accounts for the maddening variety in everything in India. Even in religion, you can treverse all the way from the grossest superstition to the highest Vedanta, still in practice! No trace of human thought is allowed to be lost on this blessed land! This is because there is something peculiar about Hinduism. As Alain Danielou wrote:
 "Hinduism is not a dogmatic religion.It is not even a religion in the Judeo-Christian sense of the word. What binds Hindus together is a common search..... to pierce the enigma of the visible and invisible world". 
The word for the common search is the 'Dharma' which is the same in all Indian languages. Classical Tamil calls it "Aram".

This is especially confusing to the modern mind, which is fast-fed on a uniform lifestyle in the name of modernisation.

The basic source of all our religious/philosophic ideas is the Veda- curiously, both when people accept its authority, or they don't , as in the case of Buddhism and Jainism! This is couched in Sanskrit, but it is of an entirely different class or order from the classical. This language again is not fixed or dogmatic, but intuitive and elastic, suggestive and imaginative. In the post-Vedic period, the original ideas have been adapted and preserved in  innumerable derivative works in classical Sanskrit. 

Tamil is the most ancient language of India, after Sanskrit. Unfortunately, lot of controversy was created about the relationship between the two by British colonial and  Christian missionary interests. Political forces, ever the running dog of little minds and bloated egos, seized on this and sowed seeds of discord and hatred. The colonial forces and following them  so called Indologists cooked up a theory of Aryan invasion, called the Tamils Dravidians- all part of their infamous 'divide and rule' strategy. Max Muller propounded the Aryan concept on linguistic basis, but soon it aquired racial colour, with Hitler embracing it  with ferocious zeal, with the result the whole world knows. Max Muller himself clarified later that he used the word in a purely linguistic sense, but this fell on deaf ears and blind eyes, and closed minds. Later on, Tamil chauvinists seized on this, with unfortunate political and social consequences. In the process, every one has overlooked that the word "Dravid" is itself  Sanskrit and a people who are supposed to be so entirely different from Sanskrit, as the North Pole is from the South, have no word of their own for their race! And it is also overlooked that there is absolutely no reference to a Dravidian race  or of an Aryan invasion in ancient Tamil literature, which is at least 2000 years old. ( It is  necessary to remember these facts when dealing with ancient Tamil literature.)

Coming to the idea or vision of "One World", the Vedic literature talks of " Vasudaiva kutumbakam" - the universe as one family. It also addresses people of the world as the children of Immortal Bliss-  " Shrunvantu Vishve Amrutasya Putra:" - " Hear all ye of the world, children of Immortal Bliss". Hindus do not have the concept of original sin.

Let us see how this idea is expressed by Tamil poets of 2000 years ago, in their so called "Sangam " period. This poem occurs in a collection of 400 songs by different poets, called Purananooru. It is difficult to transliterate the Tamil, so I crave indulgence to provide a mere translation.

Kaniyan Poongkunranaar
Yaadum Oore, Yavarum Kelir

Every place is my place, every one is my kinsman!
Our pains and gains- these are not caused by anyone else!
Our illness and their relief- these also likewise ( are not caused by any one else)

Death is not a novel occurrence.
We are not elated when life is happy.
Nor do we curse it as bad,  in anger and frustration,
when misfortune befalls us.

Life goes on in the world, obeying an inscrutable Order.
Like a boat being carried  by the waters of a wild river in full,fresh floods, amid all those stones jutting out.
This is what we have understood from the insightful teaching of the Wise Sages.

Therefore we are not dazzled by the so called great people.
Nor do we decry and denigrate and despise the small ones.

Several things are to be noted here. The basic reason for the idea of unity is the teaching of the Sages, who have had "intuitive insight". ( Tiravor kaatchi- it is called in Tamil; kaatchi  actually meaning :"sight" viz what is seen with the eye of intuition. In Sanskrit it is called "Darshana".Implied here is also the idea of karma, which dispenses our individual destinies. The Order here mentioned - the Tamil word used is "Murai"- is what in Vedic terminology is called "Rta", which governs everything in the microcosm and macrocosm. Once one is reconciled to the ancient fact of death, - " paths of glory lead but to the grave", and not indulge in "denial of death"  ( cf. Carl Becker's book of that name), one overcomes all fear, and takes life as it comes.

It is simply marvellous how great minds think so very alike! Let us see Browning!

Robert Browning: Pippa Passes

No mere mortal has a right
To carry that exalted air,
Best people are not yet angels quite.

No doubt, some way or other,
               hymns say right
All service ranks the same with God,
With God, whose puppets,best and worst,
Are we: there is no last and first. 

Then, how should one lead one's life?
This is addressed by another classical Tamil poet.

Nakkiranaar.
Then kadal valaagam

Whether one is an Emperor reigning over all the lands surrounded by the wide oceans,
Or an unlettered hunter, chasing a wild animal in the dark forest in the thick of night, searching his next meal-
How much can he eat? How much dress?
One fourth of a litre ( of rice)? ( only as much as his stomach can hold at a time)
Two pieces of cloth- one to cover the upper part, one below the waist:
These are what the whole of humanity needs, too!

Then what is the purpose of earning ( and keeping the excess)?
It is only to give to others!
If anyone thinks he will alone consume all his wealth, he is missing out many (finer) things in life!

It will immediately strike one that  this sentiment sounds familiar! Yes, it is what we encountered in the first mantra of the Isha Upnishad: Tena tyaktena bhunjitha ie enjoy by renunciation!


These poems taken together provide a basic wisdom to guide our life. Death marks the end of physical existence for all. The realisation of this Reality  will  only give us the proper perspective on life. In the light of this ultimate truth, all our human notions of grandeur have no value. So this life should be spent in service.
It is not that only eastern people or Indians had such ideas. Let us see this idea from an English poet.

James Shirley: 1596-1666
Death the Leveller

The glories of our blood and state
Are shadows, not substantial things;
There is no armour against Fate;
Death lays his icy hands on kings:
     Sceptre and Crown
     Must tumble down,
And in the dust be equal made
With the poor crooked scythe and spade.

Some men with swords may reap the field,
And plant fresh laurels where they kill;
But their strong nerves at last must yield;
They tame but one another still:
      Early or late,
      They stoop to fate,
And must give up their murmuring breath
When they, pale captives, stoop to death.

The garlands wither on your brow
Then boast no more your mighty deeds!
Upon death's purple altar now
See where victor-victim bleeds.
     Your heads must come
     To the cold tomb:
Only the actions of the just
Smell sweet and blossom in the dust.

Well, is not all this too pessimistic? Will not such contemplation make us morbid? No. It is such contemplation will lead on to the correct action: like considering the heavy traffic makes us negotiate it better. All we have to remember is that we have to reach somewhere, this world is not the end or the goal.

The Gate at the End of Things: Unknown author.

Some people say the world's all a stage
   Where each plays a part in life;
While others proclaim that life is quite real,
   Its joys, its battles, its strife.
Some say it's a joke, we should laugh it along,
   Should smile at the knocks and stings;
Whatever is true just takes this from me,
   There's a gate at the end of things.

Don't try to kid yourself with the thought,
   You can do as you please all the while;
Don't think yo can kick the poor fellow who's down,
   While you can climb to the top of the pile.
Don't go back on your pal, just because 
                                        he won't know,
Oh, in his eyes you may be a king;
Some day he will see you just as you are,
At the gate at the end of things.

Live like a man, it don't cost any more,
   To act on the square and be right.
It's reward enough to know you're a man,
   To hear people say, " He's White".
You can look everybody straight in the eye,
   And your voice has sincerity's ring;
Then you are ready to go and pass through
                                        with the bunch,
At the gate at the end of things.

The purpose of contemplating the transitory nature or impermanence of things is not to make us inactive ( as unfortunately the followers of Buddha and Sankara's Advaita Vedanta misinterpreted) but to work better in the world, at the same time not falling into the trap of considering it as the be-all. There is a gate at the end, but only those who live well will have a smooth passage through it!

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A Psalm of Life

Tell me not in mournful numbers
   "Life is but an empty dream!"
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
   And things are not what they seem.

Life is real, life is earnest!
   And the grave is not its goal;
"Dust thou art, to dust returnest",
   Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
   Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
   Finds us farther than to-day.

In the world's broad field of battle,
   In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb,driven cattle!
   Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no future, howe'er pleasant!
   Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,- act in the living present!
   Heart within, and God o'erhead!

Let us then be up and doing,
   With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving,still pursuing,
   Learn to labour  and to wait.


So is this a call  "to strive to seek to find and not to yield"?
"To scorn delights and live laborious days"?
Surely, each one of us must decide on his own! Godspeed!