Shahryar’s Spots of Time: Poetry and Poetics by Mohammad Asim Siddiqui - Post from Re-Markings (www.re-markings.com)

Shahryar’s Spots of Time: Poetry and Poetics

Mohammad Asim Siddiqui

Kunwar Akhlaq Mohammad Khan, better known by his nom de plume ‘Shahryar’, winner of India’s highest literary award Jnanpith in 2011, has written lyrics for a number of Hindi films. His lyrics ‘In aankhon ki masti ke mastane hazzaro hain’, ‘Dil cheez kya hain aap meri jaan lijiye’, immortalized by the voice of Asha Bhosle and ‘seenein mein jalan aankhon mei toofan sa kyon hai’, sung soulfully by Suresh Wadkar have made him too famous for most people to know that he is one of the most important Urdu poets of the Indian subcontinent after independence.  Beginning with Gaman (1978) Shahryar wrote lyrics for Umrao Jaan (1981), Faasle (1985), Anjuman (1986) and some incomplete ventures like Daman, Zooni and Noorjahan but rarely a thought is spared by a English reader to realize that he has six remark-ably well-received collections of poetry. Gulzar, one of our important contemporary poets who edited a book of Shahryar’s poetry, aptly places him very high in the canon of modern Urdu poetry: “Firaq, Faiz and Faraz were the great poets of great poetry; And there is Shahryar” (13).

All important Urdu critics who include Shamsur Rahman Faruqi, Gopi Chand Narang, Shameem Hanafi and others, have written critical essays on Shahryar, recognizing his worth and analyzing his ghazals and nazms. Prem Kumar, a Hindi critic, has published a very useful book of Shahryar’s interviews titled Baaton Mulaqaton Mein Shahryar (Vaani Prakashan, 2013). In this respect the editorial work of Sarvarul Huda, an emerging critic of Urdu literature, who has put together in one voluminous book all important criticism on Shahryar, reviews on his work and his interviews, with a long and insightful introduction cannot be praised enough. For English readers Rakhshanda Jalil’s literary biography of the poet, Shahryar: A Life in Poetry (HarperCollins, 2018) neatly does the job of introducing to the English reader the poet’s life and the context of his poetry, apart from offering a translation of some of his selected nazms and ghazals. Jalil’s translation of Shahryar’s nazms Through the Closed Doorway: A Collection of Nazms by Shahryar (Rupa, 2004) was also remarkable for trying to capture for English readers the rhythm of Shahryar’s nazms. English translations of selected poems of Shahryar have also been done competently by  Baidar Bakht and Marie-Anne Erki which appeared as Selected Poetry of Shahryar (Sahitya Akademi, 2010). Mention must also be made of the work of Rekhta Foundation which has put on its immensely useful website the poetry of Shahryar in Roman script. And not to forget the eminently useful practice in recent years which has seen to it that works of Urdu are available in Devnagri too, a point especially important here because all his life Shahryar maintained very cordial relations with Hindi poets, writers, critics and colleagues.

Shahryar’s first collection of poetry Ism-e-Azam, which metaphorically can be translated as the Holy Grail of Islam, came out in 1965. Dedicated to Khalilur Rahman Azmi, an important Urdu poet and critic and Shahryar’s mentor, the collection was well received and established Shahryar’s reputation as a breathtakingly new voice in Urdu poetry. He was especially welcomed as a poet of jadidiyat which in English can be loosely translated as modernism. His second collection of poetry Saatvan Dar, appeared in 1969 and the third collection Hijr ke Mausam in 1978. His fourth collection Khwab ka Dar Band Hai which bagged the award of UP Urdu academy and also that of Sahitya Akademi in 1987 appeared in 1985. His fifth collection Neend ki Kirche came out in 1995 and Shaam Hone Wali Hai, his last, in 2004. He continued writing poetry after these publications though his production became slow in his later years.

There were competing poetics of the progressives and the modernists when Shahryar appeared on the literary scene in the 1960s. He did admit that he must have been influenced by both. As a matter of fact both the traditional and the experimental aspect of the modern coexist in his poetry increasing the appeal of his poetry. He read all classical poets like Mir, Ghalib and Atish avidly. Among the progressives he particularly liked Faiz Ahmad Faiz. The modernists he took fancy to included N.M. Rashid, Miraji, Akhtarul Iman, Munibur Rahman and Munir Niazi. He agreed with Khalilur Rahman Azmi in his belief that art should be the primary concern of the artist. He did not agree with the idea of writing poetry to a purpose, an idea held by the progressive school, because it could compromise style.

Of all forms of Urdu poetry, ghazal has evoked a very intense discussion. How should it be composed? Should it have an inner continuity or a unity of mood and tone or each couplet of a ghazal can go in different directions, are questions which have been discussed routinely in Urdu criticism. Shahryar also has clear opinions about the form of ghazal. He notes that in the classical tradition even contradictory thoughts could be seen in a ghazal. But after Altaf Husain Hali’s intervention more and more poets, particularly contemporary poets, started avoiding contradictory thoughts in a ghazal. He agrees in principle with the idea that each couplet of a ghazal is independent and complete but he was aware of the trend, followed in his time, where contradictory thoughts in a ghazal were avoided by his contem-poraries.

Shahryar considered it a good change in the form of ghazal. He explained that in earlier poetry style was everything and there was no interest in thought or idea. A good idiom or a good use of zeugma (our Dictionary defines it as a poetic device “that uses one word to refer to two or more different things, in more than one day”) could get a poet praise. Not anymore. Now it is seen if the experience, which includes style, has any newness or novelty.  For Shahryar a sense of wonder is a must for poetry. He further stresses that style cannot be separated from thought. Without style, one cannot imagine an experience. Referring to oft-quoted body and soul dichotomy, Shahryar said that he cannot imagine a soul without its body.

Rakhshanda Jalil discusses Halqa-e Arbaab-Zauq (The Circle of the Men of Good Taste), a literary school which opposed the poetics of Progressive Writers’ Movement and insisted on exploring the inner world and themes like “alienation of the self, the ennui and angst of modernism” to place Shahryar in a larger perspective. Miraji, an important new voice in poetry, was the intellectual force behind this group. Starting with Miraji, new nazm in Urdu has been used both by Shahryar and poets coming after him. The new nazm, which includes many experiments in prose nazms such as nasri nazams (prose nazms) and azaad nazms (free nazms), has invited a lot of discussion. Shahryar did not shy away from writing prose nazms either. However, he aptly remarks Urdu readers’ poetic sensibility is in tune with ghazals and they do not derive as much pleasure from nazms as from ghazals. One reason for this is that a nazm consists of not one or two but many poetic units. Unlike a ghazal, a nazm has a unity of tone and subject and requires multiple readings for its proper comprehension.

There is a richness and plentifulness of emotions in his poetry. Often one can find different shades of an emotion, an emotion and its contrary emotion, but all true to experience. It is because of this richness of emotions and experiences and the variety of themes in his poetry that a lot of his couplets in ghazals and many nazms stand independently and are quoted in different contexts.  A lot of his poems are about dreams about which so much has been written that the first thing that comes to his reader’s mind is that he is a poet of dreams. Night and time are other dominant motifs in his poetry. But his poetry also explores the pangs of loneliness, virtue of solitude, the playful and serious aspect of lover-beloved relationship, lack in our life expressed philosophically, the beauty and pain of fleeting emotions and sensa-tions and the serious environmental concerns. It is not only dreams but also water, sea, river, and sand images that abound in his poetry. Most importantly he is a poet of city life who advocates rationalism, time-tested human values, composite culture of India and usually shuns religious imagery in his poetry. Like many modernist poets self is also a major subject in his poetry and a lot of his poems explore the injury caused to self in his urban setup.

Shahryar is never loud in his poetry. He is more a master of under-statement than raising a slogan. The tone in his poetry is always gentle. In his poetry one feels as if the poet is talking to himself. His addressee in his poetry is a very interesting non-presence.

For constraints of space, it is not possible to talk about all these themes and motifs in his poetry. However, his poems, both nazms and ghazals, devoted to the treatment of time, can give us some idea about the nature of his poetry.

His famous nazm “Vaqt” (Time-IA) personifies time, talks about its characteristics while at the same time announcing that it is not like human beings. Human beings may look back but not time which has an irrevocable march. Human beings have feelings and sentiments but time has no such feelings. Time, as the poet suggests, is not human and human beings should not have any illusions about it:

Naqsh hain hum pairon ke us ke

Jab hi peeche chod gaya hai

Apni raah chala jaata hai

Hum aur tum ahsaas ke putle

Soch rahe hain

Shayad dekhe mud ke idhar bhi

Hum sadah nadaan nahin hain

Voh koi insaan nahin hai

(We are the mark of his steps/ So it has left us behind/ It goes its own way/ We and you dummy of feelings/ Thinking/ Perhaps it will turn back to see this side too/ We are not naïve/ It is not a human being).¹

In another nazm “Zindagi jo aane wali Hai” (Life that is about to Come-IA) the poet views time transcending all limits going beyond its flow from beginning to eternity. Using imperative voice in the poem, which assumes an addressee, though the poem is more in the nature of a discourse, the poem uses a number of metaphors to suggest the idea of sadness, quietness, loss and timelessness:

Azal aur abad ki hadon se bahut door

Khamoshiyon ke

Samundar ke afsurdah saahil se

Takraate sahra mein dekho

(Much beyond the limits of eternity and the beginning/ From sad shores of sea/ of silences/ See in the colliding desert).

The contrasting images of “sad shores of the sea,” which contrast with deserts, also picture the vastness and variety in the world. The poem builds its argument and atmosphere through many unusual collo-cations, which rely on the poetic device of personification, drawn from the world of nature. The note of sadness in the poem is evoked when the poet says that the prophets of sounds have disappeared in the “deluge of wandering winds (bhatakti havao ke sailab mei).” “The desolate eyes of an awake shadow (kisi jagte saye ki sooni ankhon mei)” contain the sobbing support of days gone by. In the hope of the music of the smouldering and mysterious breaths somebody is still asking a stone-hearted idol its whereabouts in the light of a sinking outline.

The division of time in different units like days, nights, hours and minutes, manifests itself in different ways in Shahryar’s poetry. The passing of time is also identified with a sense of futility in his nazm “Ek Do Jaam” (One or Two Goblets-IA). The speaker in this poem feels a philosophical void and he tries to escape into drinking to give time a slip. But time has a sense of inevitability and shows a cruel indiffe-rence to others’ moods. For the lonely souls night is an even more cruel dimension of time. The speaker in this poem notices the futility of the passing of time:

Raat ke baad subah ayegi

Subah ke baad dopahar aur sham

Aur phir raat

Ek bhayanak raat

Ek do jam aur aaj ki sham

(After night will come morning/ After morning, noon and evening/ And again night/ A dreadful night/ A goblet or two for today’s evening).

The use of the word ‘bhayanak’, an unpleasant and scary adjective before the night, and his decision to drown the evening in drinking shows his dread of night which is associated with loneliness and a sense of psychological torture in the poem.

The meaningless passing of time is also the dominant idea in his nazm “Ek Aur Maut” (Another Death-IA). This poem begins with mentioning the passing of day and evening and the coming of night. The poet also invokes the scientific idea of the revolution of earth on its axis:

Kat gaya din, dhali sham, shab aa gayee

Phir zameen apne mahvar se hatne lagi

(The day passed, evening left, came night/ Again the earth started moving from its axis).

Time and its division in day and night is also the subject of “Raat Din aur Phir Raat” (SD). In this modernist poem the poet traces the journey of day from the dawn to the onset of night. The poet identifies day with both the temporal and spiritual plane of activities:

Raat ki zad se bhagta hua din

Pahle thahra ghane darakhto par

Phir lagayee zameen par is ne jist

(The day running away from the reach of night/ First paused on thick trees/ Then it staged a leap on the land).

The day enters both mosques and temples; it reaches lanes and bylanes of the city. It not only finds entry in open houses but also means of transport like buses. The day can also touch small objects like files in tall buildings and it can also register its presence in coffee houses and mills with smoke chimneys. The day, seen in opposition to night, is a welcome entity, whereas the night appears to be a scary possibility. The day is also vulnerable before the night as it has to escape the “reach of the night.” The journey of the day ends in some violence:

Phir kisi sakht shai se takraya

Aur phir raat, har taraf hi raat

(Then it rammed into a hard object/ And again night, night every-where).

The nazm titled “Besabaat Taghiuur” (Dying Change-SD) measures time in terms of its duration to sustain and tolerate pain which follows an endless cycle:

Lakeerei, dayere, dhabbe, naqooshpa

Meri ankho ke darvazon se

Meri jism ke andar utar jatei hain

Khoon ban kar rago mei raqs karte hain

(Lines, circles, stains, footmarks/ Enter the inside of my body/ From the doors of my eyes/ Turning into blood, dance into the veins).

The visualization of pain in its various shapes such as lines, circles, stains and footmarks concretises the experiential aspect of pain. It sometimes troubles the speaker momentarily, sometimes for the duration of night and sometimes some days. But then the pain disappears through his tears which have a therapeutic role in his recovery from pain. The pain disappears only to give way to more pain in an endless cycle of pain. The tears which fall on the ground and which provide him a relief from pain acquire the shape of those lines, circles, stains and marks of pain which entered his whole being in the first place. The vision in this poem is very close to the Buddhist concept of the ubiquity and permanence of dukha in human life. The poem suggests that pain, sadness, and sense of hurt are integral part of human life. The whole idea in the poem along with the reference to shapes of pain at the beginning and end of the poem impart the poem a certain round structure. The exterior and interior dimension of pain and its endless cycle are beautifully brought out in the poem.

Time is also the subject of his nazm “Vaqt ke Sahra Mein” (In the Desert of Time-IA) but it is not necessarily the night but time as a whole which the poet identifies with life in general. Desert in the title suggests not only the idea of vastness but also that of loneliness. For the poet there are some inescapable facts of life like desire, loneliness and problems in relationships. Using the imperative voice and exploit-ting the power of verbs, the speaker asks his addressee to continue burning his body under sun during day, to continue colliding with the hard rocks of distances in relations and continue igniting the fire of desires in his heart. The sense of futility and hopelessness is carried forward in the last line when the poet asks his addressee to continue stumbling like this in the desert of time:

Waqt ke sahra mein yunhi thokrein khate raho

(Continue to stumble like this in the desert of time).

This endless cycle of slow pain, constant efforts, hopeless desires and continuous blows appears to be the routine for lonely souls. They should feel this sense of futility and torture endlessly. They should feel the effect of time like this in their life.

Time is also an important concern in Shahryar’s ghazals. One impor-tant aspect of modernity is our attitude to time. The measurement of time and time’s conversion into money, labour and wages causes a sense of anxiety about its passing:

Ajeeb cheez hai ye vaqt jis ko kahte hain

Ki aane paata nahin aur beet jaata hai—IA

(Strange thing is this what is called time/ It hardly comes then it elapses).

There is a race against time for everyone in urban life. Everyone is in competition with everyone to race ahead. But the speaker of Shahryar’s ghazal refuses to join this rat race. At such moments the speaker is confident that he will reach his destination before everyone at his own pace:

Chaahe jitna tez chalo mujh se tum mere humsafro

Pahunch na paoge tum lekin mujh se pahle manzil par—IA

(However fast you walk than me my friends/ You will not reach the destination before me).

Time is such an oppressive force that even for writing about time one needs some allowance from time. Time is often measured in its experiential aspect. It is not the calculation of time in terms of its units, but the memory of time in terms of moments of happiness and unhappiness that is the concern of the poet. The poet will write about his difficult times when he gets time:

Fursat vaqt ne dee to hum bhi likhenge is ki rudaad

Kaise toofanon se nikle, pahunche kaise saahil par—IA

(We will also write its account if time permits/ How we escaped storms, reached the shore).

An important aspect of time is to take proper decisions at the proper time. Sometimes these decisions can be life-saving. The speaker in the following couplet issues a timely warning to his listeners to save themselves from waters which are life-threatening:

In paanion se koi salamat nahin gaya

Hai vaqt ab bhi kishtian le jayo mod ke—HKM

(None escaped safe from these waters/ There is still time, take away boats by taking a turn).

The two key images in this couplet are waters and boats which apparently form a close metonymic relationship. But the water image is more complex. It could be waters in the sea but it could also be tears of an insincere lover which will indicate a different line of interpretation for this couplet. If water is taken to mean tears, boats will indicate the figurative meaning of a firm decision to turn back.

An important aspect of time that is gone is the memory of that time. Memories can be an escape for a person but they can also sustain troubled souls. For Shahryar his memories are very comforting:

Ab jee ke bahalne ki hai ek yehi soorat

Beeti hui kuchch batein hum yaad karein phir se—KKDBH

(Now there is only one way to comfort the heart/ We should remember some past conversations again).

Shahryar is an optimist. His poetry also celebrates virtues of rationalism and man’s progress in the world. Time can throw such surprises that its revolution can make our world better than moon. Traditionally moon is a symbol of beauty. Calling earth better than moon reveals a vision which is happy with all the progress made by the world:

Gardish-vaqt ka kitna bada ehsaan hai ki aaj

Ye zameen chaand se behtar nazar aati hai hamein—IA

(How big is the favour of the revolution of time today/ This earth looks better than moon to us).

NOTES AND REFERENCES

1. All translations in English from Urdu, unless otherwise stated, are mine.

Gulzar, “Shahryar Suno!” in 44 Jananpith Award, Sunday 18 September 2011. Gulzar’s short essay is taken by the magazine from his edited book in Hindi Shahryar Suno: Chuninda Nazmein aur Ghazlein. New Delhi: Bhartiya Jnanpith, 2011. Print.

Huda, Sarwarul. ed. Shahryar. New Delhi: Maktaba Jamia, 2010. Print.

Shahryar’s opinions on the Urdu poetics cited in the texts are taken from his interview recorded at Shamsur Rahman Faruqi’s home in Allahabad on 31 August 1996. The interviewers were Asim Shahnawaz Shibli, Ahmad Mahfooz, Asrar Gandhi and Shamsur Rahman Faruqi. The transcript of the interview is included in Sarwarul Huda’s edited volume of Shahryar criticism.

Jalil, Rakhshanda. Shahryar: A Life in Poetry. Noida: HarperCollins, 2018. Print.

Shahryar, Sooraj ko Nikalta Dekhu (Let Me See Sun Rising): Kulliyaat Shahryar, ed. Sarwarul Huda. (Aligarh: Educational Book House, 2013). This complete anthology contains all six collections of Shahryar’s poetry. The text of the paper uses abbreviated forms of the titles of his individual collections.

·        Dr. Mohammad Asim Siddiqui is a Professor of English at Aligarh Muslim University, Aligarh. His articles have appeared in The Guardian, Asiatic, Social Scientist, Studies in Humanities and Social Sciences (IIAS), Third Frame: Literature, Culture and Society (Cambridge University Press), The Aligarh Journal of English Studies and Re-Markings. He writes regular columns on arts and culture in The Hindu, NDTV.com, Rediff.com, and News Central 24x7. His articles have also appeared in Frontline, India Today, Hindustan Times, The Statesman, The Indian Express and The Pioneer. He was a Fulbright fellow at New York University, USA in 2007. Presently, he is the Managing Editor of the project of the Urdu translation of Complete Works of Dr. B. R. Ambedkar (CWBA), a project of Dr. Ambedkar Foundation, Ministry of Social Justice and Empowerment, Government of India. His long monograph on Shahryar is due for publication by Sahitya Akademi.

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Published in Re-Markings celebratory 40th Issue Vol 18 No.2 September 2019.
Copyright: Nibir K. Ghosh 2019.

Posts from Celebratory 40th Issue of Re-Markings Vol 18 No.2 September 2019

Short Story

The Non-Veg Prasad

Manoranjan Behura

Udayanath, the self proclaimed richest man of Basantapur, looked very much busy though he did not have any work to do for the grand annual feast he had been arranging near the shrine of the village deity for a decade. He was a tall, whitish man having a big rounded belly which seemed an extra burden for him. His grey hair often stood straight.  He often took the help of mustard oil to keep the unruly hair of his head in proper order. He felt smart putting on a new white dhoti. He put on a new dhoti and clad in a gamcha both ocher in color that symbolized sacrifice. Udayanath put a long and wide sandal paste that covered his entire forehead and he walked barefoot.

It was dawn but Basantpur was vibrating with the sound of DJ loud speakers so no one could sleep. Many people including men, women and children were going to the river Birupa for early bath to earn blessings because it was Kartika Purnima. The riverside also resound-ded with fire crackers. The young people threw fire crackers in the air to burst loudly whenever they saw the village belle enter the river water. Some firecrackers fell on the river water without bursting and some functioned partially emitting only a spark of light. The young boys immediately used unparliamentary language against manufac-turers of firecrackers for cheating.

The Sun piped out emitting its red color. The river water looked red. Small boats made of colored paper and thermocol filled the river water. The candle twinkling in these boats began to mingle and some other went out failing to bear the stocks of the wind. The riverside was empty and the river water was filled with boats and fragments of half- burnt palm leaves.

The village Basantapur was quaking. What one said in his room the other could not listen. The DJ loud speakers set near the shrine of village deity Mangala were overpowering all voices. If anybody wanted to communicate on phone, he had to use the sms mode. The old diseased people who could not walk properly felt living in hell and consoled themselves seeing their grandchildren enjoying.

Binod Kar, a ninety-one-year-old priest, said to his grandson, “What the loud speakers say I cannot understand. It is only emitting high pitched sound like a giant that I had read in the great epics.” His young grandson Ramesh, who was a volunteer, said in a stammering voice, “Grandpa, it is DJ. Without lou…lou…louder spea…speakers the village deity cannot be worshipped.” Grandfather noticed that Ramesh was under the spell of alcohol though he seemed in a controlled state.

Binod Kar rarely went outside because he couldn’t move. Sitting on the verandah he had to bear the old-age pain. The high pitched loud speakers had doubled his suffering. One of his neighbours and contemporaries Gopinatha came to him to pass time. Gopinath said, while sitting near him on the ground, “Binod have you taken Prasad? Today is Kartika Purnima, the most pious day of the year. It may be our last Kartika Purnima.” “If it is my last Kartika Purnima, then god has granted my prayer” said Binod Kar with disgust.

The young people were enjoying most. Some of them were dancing near the shrine of the village deity. Here a grand party had been arranged by Udayanath. He arranged a feast here every year for more than thousand people. The meal called Prasad was first offered to the deity then served to the people.

Preparation of the Prasad started in the early morning hours. More than three cooks and five helpers were busy in the preparation. People from the nearby areas started gathering. The meal would be served at noon. Before that people including children thronged here to take Prasad. It was named Prasad but really it was the most delicious food prepared. Udayanath had been arranging such feast for a decade.

It was said that his only son Bapi failed twice in the matriculation examination. The entire family felt humiliated because Udayanath was a government servant. He earned a handsome salary. Almost all the people of the area called him Udaya Babu. When his neighbor Ghanashyam’s son passed in the first division, the blood pressure of Udayanath rose. He spent many sleepless nights thinking how Ghanasyam’s son passed. The next year his son Bapi took the exam but failed again. Udayanath was very much perturbed. His wife promised to offer Prasad to the village deity if their son passed the supplementary examination. Luckily, his only son managed to pass due to the teachers’ strike during the exam. Since that year Udayanath has been arranging Prasad on the occasion of the Kartika Purnima.

Really, the Prasad distribution became a grand function. People of Basantpur and its neighboring areas came voluntarily to take Prasad which was very delicious. In this way Udayanath earned a lot of reputation. All over the area everybody talked before a month that Udaya Babu’s function would be an important function because he distributed grand meals and earned a lot of dharma.  Such comments encouraged Udayanath and his family to expand the feast even adding other items like khir and paneer.

When the function was going on Udayanath went to the middle of the row where people ate and asked how it tasted? People known to him said, “Well Udaya, the Prasad of goddess is really ambrosia.”  Udaya-nath’s chest expanded and his reddish eyes were rounded and swelled with water. With folded palms he said, “I am a mere man but everything is done by Maa, the deity.”  

The crowded place vibrated with the loud speakers and the village young men who acted as volunteers had set six boxes of loud speakers on the ground. The sound was likely to crack the ears of a healthy man. Everybody felt uneasy but nobody spoke anything and were tolerant in the name of the deity. Some said, “Let us bear the pain till evening. Only once in a year is Kartika Purnima.”

Some educated young people who could not tolerate the sound put the index figures of their two hands on the ears. They often requested them to reduce the volume of the loud speakers but their request was turned down citing that money had been paid so that they should utilize it fully. The high-pitched sound compelled them to leave the place without taking Prasad.

People felt irritated and they seemed to have no patience to wait. Some people waited to take Prasad and some others stood for their turn behind the people who were seated in a row. When a man rose up from his place after taking the Prasad the man behind him immediately filled his seat though the used plate had not been removed. In this way the two big rows on the dusty road continued without break till the end.

Some people of the nearby area brought pots to take different items because their family members could not come to the place. The volunteers who served in the different pots filled in the pots full and half as per their personal relationship. If one asked for more khir or curry the volunteers said, “No, lots of people are there to eat. There may be a shortage of Prasad.”

The Sun went westward. The winter started to exercise its influence. The dinner near the village deity was about to end, leaving the place dirty. The left-out food items filled the dining area. As a result, the dusts were running out for twilight. The piles of plates were thrown on the two sides of the roads where street dogs were fighting among themselves. Suddenly the loud speakers ceased to function leaving the place calm. Everybody uttered spontaneously, “Oh! What a peace! Power cut is a blessing for us.”

Udayanath told the volunteers, “You have worked a lot. You must be hungry, please let us take the Prasad.” Kalia, a college-going boy said, “No, we have taken Prasad while distributing. When we go to the hearths we eat khir and our stomach is full. Only you are left to take prasasd.” Udayanath realized Kalia was dead drunk and preferred to remain silent.

The Sun did not look red though it was in the western sky. A car stopped on the square where the deity was installed. A man came out of the car and pranammed the deity. Udayanath and other volunteers marked him. Udayanath shouted, “Oh Sadhuji, you are here! Please bless me taking the Prasad.” The Sadhu was about to enter into the car and looked back when Udayanath said so. He approached the Sadhu with folded hands and touched his feet for blessing. Other volunteers also followed Udayanath and touched the feet of the Sadhu for blessing. With a smiling face the Sadhu said, “May god bless you.”

The ever-smiling Sadhu said, “May god bless you but I can’t eat this though I desperately need food now.” The Sadhu raised his hand towards his disciple. The young disciple handed him over a bottle of water. He sipped that water and smiled. Again, Udayanath prayed to him to take Prasad saying, “you are the son of a landlord. Leaving the lucrative government job you have been spreading the message of love, sacrifice and tolerance for three decades. I would be pleased if you take Prasad.” The smiling of the sadhu had not dissolved on his face; he again widened the smiling and said, “If you want to give me something then give me the banana that lies near the deserted kalasa.” One young boy suddenly picked up the banana and handed it over to the Sadhu. The Sadhu skinned it, took it with great pleasure and said, “May god keep the man who has grown up such sweet banana happy and disease-free forever.” Without applying any sense, Udayanath said, “Sadhuji my octogenarian father has grown this banana in our yard. I often requested him to take rest but he still keeps working.” The Sadhu looked grave and told after a pause, “Such types of great souls who provide us veg-food will be found no more after some days and the entire food will be non-veg. Actually, I generally take veg…” The Sadhu had not finished his sentence. Udayanath said folding his hands again, “Sadhuji, all the items prepared before the deity are veg.” Sadhu smiled and told, “My son you should know everything earned by labour is accepted by god. Anything earned under the table will not please god if served as Prasad, rather god will be displeased with it. You know all the Prasads served now-a-days are non-veg as they contain the sweat and blood of the poor who were made to pay bribes to the government employees.”

The whitish face of Udayanath looked pale. He did not know what to do. He understood the essence of what the Sadhu said.

The Sadhu’s face was radiating with smile. He opened the door of his car and entered into it. Udayanath and his team approached the Sadhu. Udayanath bent down and touched the feet of the Sadhu and said, “I may kindly be pardoned.” The Sadhu said, “You can get the cosmic pardon if you realize your deeds.” The car rolled away and disappeared in a moment but the words of the sadhu lingered in his mind.

The young boys of the village were busy folding the tents and some were carrying the pot to clean and other were packing food in the polythene packs. Udayanath sat on the shrine of the deity unmoved as if he was meditating. All left. the Sun had already set before the Sadhu’s departure but Udayanath was still sitting at the shrine.

The Sun had set covering the world in darkness but a new Sun rose inside Udayanath dispelling all the darkness inside him. He felt he had found the right route. Without any remorse for the past, he had to proceed on the new path he accidentally discovered. He could see how the poor and backward people bribed him for their work. Actually, they did not have the capacity to pay but they had to pay out of compulsion otherwise their work would not be done. The hard-earned money often went in bribe with which they could have eaten twice a day.

Udaynath realized how much money he had earned as bribe in his thirty years’ career. He spent these in unnecessary activities for earning false applause. He realized that the work assigned to him by the Almighty should be performed by him perfectly so that he could earn the blessings of the god.

·        Dr. Manoranjan Behura is Lecturer in English at Mahanga Puspgiri Mahavidyalaya, Erakana, Cuttack, Odisha.

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Published in Re-Markings Vol. 18 No. 2 September 2019 (www.re-markings.com)
Copyright Nibir K. Ghosh 2019.

For hard copy of the issue write to ghoshnk@hotmail.com