HYMN TO DATTATREYA

                                           


                                                                           I
                                                                                                    

                                        Victory to Thee : Son of Atri !

                                        Victory to Thee, Son of Anasuya !

                                        Holiest offspring of holy damsel

                                        Whose arms rocked the cradles

                                        Of the Almighty Trinity

                                        Changed into her tiny tots.

                                                                 II

                                       Core of Vishnu, Rudra and Brahma !

                                       Three-crowned Lord of this universe !

                                       Sitting serene under the holy  shade

                                       Of Audumbar in dark forest glades

                                       Gazing sun-like with a radiant form

                                       Seeing Thyself, Brahman, in all

                                       Hearing “OM”, the mystic call

                                       Breaking  Maya’s adamant wall .

                                                                   III

                                        Master of all Masters  and Hermits great !

                                        Yogi of all bare-limbed monks of Mountains !

                                        All Vedas like hounds of heaven follow Thee :

                                        The divine cow stands humble behind Thee :

                                        Wisdom bowed before Thy mystic penance

                                        Forests becalmed by Thy holy presence ;

                                        Nature’s secrets and spiritual laws

                                        Themselves did reveal to Thy sun-bright eyes :

                                         Deep Truths beyond philosophic lore

                                         Beyond our sense-bound, selfish mortal shore.

                                                                      IV

                                        Sporting Thyself in various forms and guise

                                        You test our minds too fickle to surmise :

                                        May Thou shower Thy boundless grace

                                        Stay before our tottering mental gaze

                                        Set us free from this mighty Maya’s maze :

                                        Lord of Yogis! Show Thy all merciful gracious form !

                                        Holding trident, conch and discus in Thy six arms

                                        Along with drum, vessel and rosary sparkling white

                                       To kill our ignorance with Thy presence bright;

                                        Decked with deer-skin, crystal beads and jasmine wreaths

                                        Scatter rays of wisdom, Thou, Conqueror of Death! 

                                        From Thy three-paired lustrous lotus-eyes ;

                                     

                                                                               V     

                                       Bless us with a glimpse of Thy holiest form !

                                      That dissolves sins of ten thousand births :

                                       Lifting us from this eternal wheel of  illusion :

                                       All is one, before Thy divine stature that rules the world

                                       Untouched like heavenly rays of  many million suns .

                   

                                                          ********************************

  Note :                                                     

           Lord Dattatreya is a very powerful and unique manifestation of Holy trinity (Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva) all merged together in one form. Pleased with the chastity and virtues of Anasuya and her husband Atri Maharshi, the holy trinity granted their wish and became their son. Anasuya withstood the test of the three gods and by her power transformed them into children. Later at the request of the wives of Holy trinity she brought them back to their original forms. The Word "Datta" means "TO give" that is Lord givesor grants boons to those who surrender and pray to him with sincere devotion and faith.

 Lord Dattatreya is Para Brahman who is revered as the Lord of all yogas and wisdom. He is shown with three heads (implying Holy Trinity) with six hands wielding Trident (to kill ego), drum (to awaken souls from ignorance), Conch (symbol of sacred sound OM), discus (Flux in universe), Kamandala (water vessel implying pure wisdom) and rosary (implying his counting of devotees who will be liberated). The four dogs represent the four Vedas which follow the Lord, the ultimate Truth. The holy cow is Kamdhenu, which grants all material and spiritual wishes of the devotees. The Audumbara (sacred fig ) tree is the celestial wish-fulfilling tree under whose shade Lord Dattatreya always dwells.

 Lord dattatreya is seen doing penance on Sahyadri Mountains and on Gandhamadana Mountains. He is Adi Yogi or the first teacher of spiritual enlightenment and is called Teacher of all spiritual preceptors or Gurus.His Avatara remains eternal throughout all yugas. He descended into this world at different times as holy teachers or sages to uplift mankind and Dharma whenever necessary. He is regarded as a boundless ocean of mercy, spiritual wisdom and power. Just by chanting his name with complete surrender will help devotees receive His grace. Especially in this sin-ridden Kali Yuga the name of Dattatreya will help mankind to gain mastery over their desires and receive wisdom.
  
      ****************    OM Dattatreyaya Namaha **********************


12th February, 2017                                                      Somaseshu Gutala
      

 

                         

                                                   

HYMN TO SEVEN HILLS LORD

Lord Venkateshswara (Srinivasa)

   

         


















                             

                     My heart soon flies to Thee, oh God !

                                When I behold your face, sacred seven hills Lord !

                                You are the center of cosmic ocean

                                Without you, there is no creation;

                                High upon these lofty hills you stay

                                As if to test our faith amidst life’s fray ;

                                We trust you as our guide, our way ;

                                 With you, we have no fear, doubt and dismay ;

     

                             Bless us with your moon-cool beneficent looks

                              We can’t know you, Lord beyond three holy books ;

                              Bless us, lord seated on holy serpent-bed ;

                              Bless us, Lord of sacred Garuda red :

                              Bless us Lord of Lakshmi, with Thy peace-giving smile 

                          May we ever think of you in our life’s journey, mile after mile .

  Note :            1)   Three holy books  = Three Vedas

                          2)    Serpent-bed      =  Adi Sesha, the serpent symbolizing creation.

                          3)    Garuda red       = The mount of Vishnu symbolizing spiritual 

                                                                      Knowledge and devotion.              

                               ======================================

      27th February, 2017                                                  Somaseshu Gutala 

                                 

   

HYMN TO DAKSHINA MURTY

                                     

                     

                                                               (  I  )

           

                                               Pranams to Thee       

                                               Lord of the South !

                                               Blessed fount of wisdom

                                               Seated on the throne

                                               Of bliss and truth !

                                               With matted locks of brown

                                               With silver crescent crown

                                               With holy Ganges fair

                                               Arising out of Thy hair ;

                                               With black-brown snaky coils

                                               With garlanded grinning skulls

                                               Adorning Thy ash-smeared breast                                            

                                               With crystal rosary and Vedas in palms

                                               You shine like fire  with benign charm

                                               Base desires suppressed like devils

                                               Under Thy lotus-feet, Oh Master Still ! 

                                               Seated upright in lotus-pose

                                               With half-shut radiant eyes

                                               Ensconced in yogic guise

                                               Accept our hymns, oh Master Wise!

                                                                      (  II  )

                                               Pranams to Thee

                                               Lord of the south!

                                               Before whom gods of Heaven

                                               Bow with reverence due ;

                                               And through silence view

                                               To learn the lessons of the soul

                                               And ancient Vedic lore

                                               Through fixed mental gaze

                                              'bove the grip of sensual glee

                                               In divine communion with Thee :

                                               In tranquil, sage forests green

                                               In icy caves of Lord Himavanth

                                               Where Vedic chants are heard

                                               As the Ganges gurgles through rocks ;

                                               The oldest sages sat with rapt attention

                                               Before the youthful Master divine 

                                               Under the wide-spread banyan tree

                                               Submerged in devotion supreme;                                          

                                               Hail to Thee, Mighty majestic master of truth !

                                               Pranams to Thee ! God of Mercy and Ruth .  

                                                      *************************************

                                               Note : Ensconced =    Sit comfortably

                                                             Ruth            =Compassion

                                               

                                                                      

                       

THE TENDER MUSE

Toru Dutt (1856--1877)

                       

                   

                                                   

                            When I beheld thy pretty gems of verse

                        I lived in gorgeous legends of past;

                        I caught that pulse, my soul immerst

                        In lines so few, a panorama vast;

                        When I heard of thy sweet memories sad

                        My soul trembled, bemoaned thy loss ;

                        Thy writings with their beauty made me glad

                        Yet made me sigh, thy too soon death, Alas !

                        Like “Sita” and “Our Casuarina Tree”

                        Like “Savitri” and “Uma” you too

                        Survive forever: thy poetry grew

                        From glory to glory with smooth movement free

                  My eyes that touched thy book turned misty and cold

                 We owe you, Tender Muse, immortal realms of gold!

                                 ********************************************

         14th February, 2017                                Somaseshu Gutala

   

Note :

                                       

    "Sita" "Our Casuarina Tree" etc.  are famous poems found in 

Toru Dutt's collection " Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan" 

published in 1882 with introduction by the famous critic, Edmund 

Gosse.

A Note On Toru Dutt’s Poetry

                                                                                 

                                                    

Toru Dutt was one of the Indo-Anglian writers of Pre-Independence India who died at a very tender age before her poetic talent matured into full bloom. Yet her poems show a great promise of her future career had she lived longer. In this aspect she is compared to John Keats who also died at a very young age. Just like the poetry of Keats her poems are also romantic and sensuous with picturesque images and sonorous rhythm. She was born on 4th March in 1856 in Rambanagar in Calcutta. Her father was a Govt. officer who was popular as a poet and linguist. He published “The Dutt Family Album” in 1870. His other poetical works are “The Loyal Hours” (1876), and “Cherry Stones” (1881).  Her mother Kshetramani  was well-versed in English and Bengali and translated “The Blood of Jesus” from English into Bengali . Her Cousins – Govin Chunder, Hur Chunder and Greece Chunder—were all poets.

According to Bishop Clifford Toru inherited her rich intellectual gifts from her father’s side and the moral beauty and sweetness of character from her mother. In her brief life span she had to face many sudden changes and shocks. When she was six, her family converted to Christianity in 1862. In 1865 her brother Abju died. Toru with her sister studied Milton’s “Paradise Lost” to derive consolation. In 1869 both sisters left for Europe. They attended a school at Nice, a south-eastern city in France. Both of them learnt French in a very short period. When they were in London they started translating works from French to English. In 1871 they made friends with Mary Martin with whom Toru shared her experiences and feeling through letters. In 1873 they returned to India.

 Aru died on July 23, 1874 at the age of twenty. Toru was very much saddened by her sister’s untimely death. In 1875 she started learning Sanskrit and within ten months she was able to read Sanskrit classics like The Ramayana, The Mahabharata, Vishnu Purana, Sakuntala and Bhagavata Purana. In March 1876 her book “A Sheaf Gleaned from French Fields” was published.   In this book she translated poems  from one hundred French poets.  She started translating ancient Indian stories from Sanskrit to English. But she did not live to see her book “Ancient Ballads and Legends of Hindustan” in print. She died of T.B. on August 30, 1877 in Calcutta. She was buried at the C.M.S. cemetery in Calcutta near her beloved brother and sister. Her book was later published in 1882 with introduction written by Edmund Gosse.  Out of the nine poems only seven were found. Her father completed the gap with “The Legend of Dhruva” and “The royal Ascetic and the Hind”.  Her other books are “Bianca or young Spanish Maiden” and a French Novel by name “Le Journal de Mlle D’Arvers”, a romance of 259 pages. 

           . 

Toru Dutt’s desire for identity and her study of Sanskrit prompted her to write these poems. She recollected the old stories told by her mother and gave poetic expression to them without deviating from the spirit of the original version. The common feature in all these ballads is the use of octosyllabic meter (Eight syllables in each line) she borrowed from the English Ballad. She also used blank verse in poems like “Sita”. These poems show her intense love of her own land and for its traditions. This is “her chief legacy to posterity.” Her poems reveal the soul of India through the medium of English poetry. She had a great gift of story-telling arousing interest and curiosity in the minds of readers. In descriptive poetry she is superior.  According to Srinivasa Iyyengar :  she is “a good craftsman in verse, her feeling for words impeccable, and her eye and ear were alike trained for poetic description or dialogue. We find the ideals of Indian womanhood, essentials of Indian philosophy and scenes and sights of Indian landscape in her lyrical poems.

 Her Poem “Sita” is one of the best ballads in which she decribes the chaste surroundings of Valmiki’s ashram with a delicate pathos in the closing lines;”when shall those children by their mother’s side/ Gather, ah, me! As erst even tide!” In “Savitri”, the longest poem in five parts, she expressed the Hindu philosophy and Karma Siddhantha in a dramtic way. Her stories are true to their originals in Sanskrit and objective in treatment. Her lyrical descriptions do not obstruct the flow of the narratives. She gave a modern turn or interpretation to some of the ancient legends. By using dramatic speeches she excelled in portraying women characters like Savitri, Sita and Uma.  Her verse reminds that of Keats in sensitiveness and worship of beauty.

 Her poem “The Lotus” shows her imaginative power and deft handling of the sonnet form. The poem “Our Casuarina Tree” written in eleven line Stanza form recaptures the past memories of her childhood in the company of her family and contrasts the impermanence of human life with the immortality of Nature symbolized by the Casuarina tree. The casuarina tree with its rugged trunk and with creepers winding around it stood like a huge python. It is the shelter for humming bees and singing birds. In the morning the poet is awakened by the voice of singing birds and the sight of grey baboon sitting on the branches with her puny baby monkeys. But the poet says : “ But not because of its magnificence / Dear is the casurina tree to my soul/ Beneath it we have played; though years may roll/ O sweet companions, loved with love intense,/  For your sakes shall the tree be ever dear ! “  The poet pays a glowing tribute to the casurina tree as it brings to her mind her happy past memories and the tree is a perpetual reminder of her family members who are no more. The tree like Keats’ nightingale is deathless with its perpetual glory for ever stored in people’s minds.

 In “ Prehlad “ the story is narrated in a simple and straightforward manner with apt dialogues. The incarnation of Narasimha was just touched upon without closer details. : “A stately sable warrior sprang/ Like some phantasma of the brain/ He had a lion head and eyes/ A human body, feet and hands/ colossal…”.  The child devotee Prehlad informs his father: “The wise wait patiently on time.” “That is true knowledge which can show / the glory of the living gods.  “That is true knowledge which can change / Our very natures with its glow.  “The sciences whate’er their range / Feed but the flesh and make a show.” “When the boy was threatened with death punishment, he says “Is death annihilation-No ? / New worlds will open on my view/ When persecuted hence I go / The right is right—the true is true.”

  In “Sindhu” the devotion of Shravan Kumar (here named as Sindhu) towards his aged and blind parents is vividly portrayed. The hunting scene in the forest is described in detail. Sindhu did not think that king Dasarath was guilty of killing an innocent boy. He says that once he killed a male bird with his stone sling causing grief to the living female bird. So he is now punished for his unworthy act of killing an innocent bird.  “Unwittingly the deed was done/ It is my destiny/ O fear not thou, but pity one/ Whose fate is thus to die.” He requests Dasarath to carry the pitcher of water to his hungry parents. The anxious waiting of parents for their only dear son was touchingly described. When Dasarath placed the dead child in their lap, father said: “Our hearts are broken. Come, dear wife/ On earth no more we dwell; / Now welcome death, and farewell Life, / And thou, O king, farewell!”  “ We do not curse thee, God forbid/ But to my inner eye/ The future is no longer hid, / Thou too shalt like us die.”  “ Die-for a son’s untimely loss!?  Die –with a broken heart!  Now help us to our to our bed of moss/ And let us both depart.”

In “Sita” the three children after hearing the tale of Sita from their mother imaginatively view at the hermitage where Sita spent her time after being abandoned by Rama. The chaste surroundings of the hermitage reveal the chaste character of Sita also. “The white swans glide; there, “whirring from the brake/ The peacock springs; there herds of wild deer race; / There patches gleam with yellow waving grain;/ There blue smoke from strange altars rises light/ There dwells in peace, the poet-anchorite.”The grief of Sita evoked grief in the hearts of three children also. The poem ends on a nostalgic note when the poet says “When shall those children by their mother’s side/ Gather, ah me! As erst  eventide?”

In “Jogadya Uma” Toru Dutt showed her skill in portraying a supernatural character of Uma with deft, suggestive touches. The vendor of shell-bracelets saw a beautiful maid by the lakeside. The shell-bracelet perfectly fitted her “Fairer hand”. The pedlar was afraid to see her face as “she was lovely, but her look/ had something of a high command “. She directed him to go to her father and take money. Her father was a priest who stays near the temple in his humble cottage. She says that If her father says that he had no money, then let him open the red streaked box in which he would find coins to pay the price of the bangle covered with enamel.  The pedlar thought that the maiden seemed like “the goddess on the Latmos hill “and no painter could paint her beauty and grace. ‘Though her eyes were soft, a ray/ Lit them at times, which kings who saw/ would never dare to disobey.” When the pedlar approached the priest and told him about the maid and the bracelet, the priest laughed and said that he had no daughters and someone had cheated him.  But when the pedlar informed him about the red box, the priest opened the box and found money just equal to the exact price of the bracelet.  Then he realized the maid was none other than the Goddess whom he worshipped in the temple. He felt sad that he had not seen her in spite of his prayers while the pedlar had seen her directly near the lake. Both of them ran towards the lake to find her out and none was seen. When the priest requested her to show the proof of Her presence, suddenly they heard the sound of silver bells and saw “a rounded arm amidst the lotus buds “lifted from the lake with the bracelet. Both of them felt happy and took one lotus flower each in memory of the day when they saw the divine hand.  Every year the descendants of the pedlar offer shell bracelets to the goddess as a token of this happy event.

   Though Toru Dutt’s poetic output is slender, she showed maturity and perfection even at such a young age and her contribution to Indian English literature will be always remembered by posterity. "Toru Dutt remains one of the most astonishing women that ever lived …. Fiery and unconquerable of soul. These poems are sufficient to place Toru Dutt in the small class of women who have written English verse that can stand". (E.J.Thomson )

 According to Lotika Basu, a literary critic, Ancient Ballads, "for the first time reveals to the West the soul of India through the medium of English poetry". In fact, scholars are profuse in their praise of this work for its finely-knit verses full of vigour and variety.

                               *****************************************************

9th February, 2017                                                Somaseshu Gutala

                                                   

THE SINGER

                           Singer of joys and Love ! What magic wand

                         You wield in your pretty hand !

                         What brush, so wonderfully transforms

                         Whatever you saw into colorful forms !

                          A row of glittering models new

                          To see India, a panoramic view ;

                          Snake-charmers, hawkers and weavers gay

                          In diverse activities' delightful play ;

                                 

                          A lovely creation of joy, your art   

                         Unmarred by miseries, human lot ;

                         Words sparkle like gems on a string   

                          Thy verse, a star-studded heavenly swing

                          With a sweet bird-like melodious ring

                          With a fresh child-like rapture you sing 

                           Let dry, cold critics say what they like

          

                           Thy verse thrills like Spring all alike.

                  ******************************************************

    Note :  "The Snake-Charmer" "Indian Weavers","The Palanquin-Bearers,"In the Bazaars of Hyderabad", "Corn-grinders" and "The Coromandel Fishers" are from Sarojini Naidu's Collections "Golden Threshold' (1905), "The Bird Of Time" (1912) published from London.

                                 

 29th January, 2017                                          Somaseshu Gutala