The First Steps in a Spiritual Journey: Kannadasan and Bhaja Govindam

The paradox in life is this: to appreciate the beauty of life we have to become acutely aware of its ugliness.  To be at peace in a family, we have to know the boundaries of our relationships.  To enjoy the blessings of wealth, we ought to have a thorough appraisal of its limitations. Otherwise, we are bound to feel extremely disappointed and bitter with the very people and possessions that were the objects of our pursuits, passion and devotion.

Kannadasan brings this idea to expression in his famous song வீடு வறை உறவு 

வீடு வரை உறவு 

வீதி வரை மனைவி 

காடு வரை பிள்ளை 

கடைசி வரை யாரோ 

ஆடும் வரை ஆட்டம் 

ஆயிரத்தில் நாட்டம் 

கூடி வரும் கூட்டம் 

கொள்ளி வரை வருமா ....

விட்டுவிடும் ஆவி 

பட்டுவிடும் மேனி 

சுட்டுவிடும் நெருப்பு 

சூனியத்தில் நிலைப்பு 

Translating this song is to transfigure it.  For people who do not understand Tamil, please understand that this song, which stings with its cold brutality, eludes even an expert translator, leave alone an amateur writer like me. (I have chosen to go with the spirit of the song rather than the literal word-to-word translation)

The relatives stay behind in the house

The wife comes up to the street

The son accompanies you to the ground

But who comes with you till the end?

You dance while you can, 

With your eyes on the millions

The posse fuss about you

But where are they when they burn you?

Your life quits on you

Your body wilts soon 

The fire burns it down

You end up in eternal nothing

It is probably a divine coincidence that these verses of Kannadasan echo the thoughts of one of the greatest saints that ever lived- Sri Adi Sankara Bhagavadpada.  In his Bhaja Govindam, Sri Sankara lovingly exhorts us, delivering one stinging rebuke after another, to re-appraise, re-analyze

 and recalibrate our relationships with our possessions, passions and pursuits. 

भज गोविन्दं भज गोविन्दं 

गोविन्दं भज मूदमते 

संप्राप्ते सन्निहिते काले 

नहि नहि रक्षति डुक्रुन् करणे ...

यावत्वित्तोपार्जन सक्तः 

तावन्निज परिवारो रक्तः 

पश्चाद जीवति जर्जर देहे 

वार्तां कोपि न पृच्छति गेहे 

यावत्पवनो निवसति देहे 

तावत्पृच्छति  कुशलं गेहे 

गतवति वायो देहापाये 

भार्या बिब्यति तस्मिन् 

भज गोविन्दं भज गोविन्दं 

गोविन्दं भज मूदमते 

Seek Govind, seek Govind

Govind alone you seek O fool

Once your time is done and gone

Not will rescue you, your grammar rules

So long you are strong and can build the fortune of yours

They love and swarm, this family of yours

When your spirit withers and your body dithers

Ain't there anybody that even bothers 

As long as your breath stays in you

You are liked and loved and they ask about you

But alas, once your breath deserts you

Even your wife recoils with what is left of you

Seek Govind, seek Govind 

Govind alone you seek O fool

Unlike Sri Sankara, Kannadasan, in his song, does not offer the positive exhortation to surrender to and seek the Almighty; he gets there, however, in another song which starts with the same theme after the death of a loved one: 

போனால் போகட்டும் போடா (Ponaal pokattum poda)

போனால் போகட்டும் போடா 

இந்த பூமியில் நிலையாய் வாழ்ந்தவர் யாரடா 

If it's gone, let it go

Who has lived forever in this world? 

Didn't Kannadasan's Lord, Sri Krishna Himself, advise a despondent Arjuna?

जातस्य हि ध्रुवो मृत्युः ध्रुवं जन्म मृतस्य च
तस्मादपरिहार्येते नत्वम् शोचितुमर्हसि

Death is certain to all those born, certain is birth to all those dead
What you cannot help is not worthy to be grieved upon.

Continuing, Kannadasan reassures us that there is a Divine Hand at play

நமக்கும் மேலே ஒருவனடா 

நாலும் தெரிந்த தலைவனடா - தினம் 

நாடகம் ஆடும் கலைஞனடா  

There is a Guy above us all

The Captain, He, verily, knows all 

An artist, He directs the play of us all

He alone is Real.  He alone is Permanent. He alone is worth seeking.

Hence coming back to Sri Sankara's exortations: Seek Govind, seek Govind, Govind alone we shall seek

Is Reality a Choice? Nirpadhuve, Nadappadhuve by Bharathiyar

Romanticism is the intoxicating elixir that the poet sips, gulps and bathes in.  A simple blacksmith going about his daily business becomes immortalized in the words of a Longfellow:
Under a spreading chestnut-tree, 
The village smithy stands;
The smith, a mighty man is he, 
With large and sinewy hands

The sight of colorful blooming daffodils sends Wordsworth into raptures:
I wandered lonely as a cloud
That floats on high o'er vales and hills,
When all at once I saw a crowd,
A host, of golden daffodils;
Beside the lake, beneath the trees,
Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.

Needless to say, a majestic tiger with its chiselled physique and chilling glare would have to have its own tribute:
Tyger, tyger burning bright
In the forests of the night;
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?

These poetic flights of imagination can, however, be dragged down into the pedestrian world of gravity by cold factual information. The information possessed by the sociologist, botanist or a zoologist only makes them all the more poorer as it deprives them of the spine-chilling thrills that Longfellow, Wordsworth and Blake experienced in their moments of wonderment.

Bharathiar had to make a choice. He had to choose between the black- and-white view of the world provided by philosophy or the exploding spectrum of colors that his poetic vision had blessed him with.

Bharathiar was well versed in philosophy- the hard-core philosophy of Advaita where the very existence of everything is questioned; the entire creation is a mirage, a figment of imagination, a dream. God alone is Real; the World is illusory; there is no difference between the individual soul and God 

ब्रह्म सत्यं जगन् मित्य जीवो ब्रह्मैव नापरः 

To a poet, this brings in to question everything that he cherishes– the lofty peaks, the roaring rivers, the majestic animals, the melodious birds. He thus wonders

நிற்பதுவே நடப்பதுவே பறப்பதுவே
நீங்களெல்லாம் சொப்பனந்தானோ
பல தோற்ற மயக்கங்களோ

Ye, who stand and walk and fly
Are you all just a dream?
Just a delusory form?

கற்பதுவே கேட்பதுவே கருதுவதே
நீங்களெல்லாம் அற்ப மாயைகளோ
உம்முள் ஆழ்ந்த பொருளில்லையோ

Ye, that is learnt, that is heard, that is thought
Are you all mere illusions?
Is there nothing deeper in you

If the enchanting garden of the world outside, and the mysterious forests of the world within are to be scythed ruthlessly by the uncompromising blade of cold reasoning, "What about my very existence?" as he enquires later in the song.

போனதெல்லாம் கனவினைப்போல்
புதைந்தழிந்தே போனதனால்
நானும் ஓர் கனவோ
இந்த ஞாலமும் பொய் தானோ?

If what is past, like a dream
gets buried and disappears
Am I also a dream
Is the world also just a lie?

But what about that magical moment?– that was tangible, the thrill that was felt, even if only fleeting, that which was majestic in its grandeur, albeit for a moment, before disappearing into the depths of the invisible abyss of the past. Was that moment unreal just because it has disappeared, never to be seen again?

Bharathiar begs to differ. He uses a reverse logic to justify his viewpoint.

காண்பவெல்லாம் மறையுமென்றால்
மறைந்ததெல்லாம் காண்பமன்றோ

If everything that is seen would disappear
Hadn't everything that disappeared been seen?

காண்பதுவே உறுதிகண்டோம்
காண்பதல்லால் உறுதியில்லை
காண்பது சத்தியமாம்
இந்த காட்சி சத்தியமாம்

What we see, we feel firm about
If unseen, it is not proven
What is seen is the truth, we aver
This sight we see is true, we aver

Bharathiar decides to make a choice. He has his feet firmly planted in the world even as his heart soars to the clouds and beyond. He is of this world; he breathes its air, sucks the nectar of its blooms, partakes of its fruits, and serves it with the last ember of his spirit.

While talking about the tangible world as the truth, Bharathiar does not decry God or a Higher Truth. In fact, he sees Him everywhere. How do we know?  Every fan of Bharathiar knows what comes next. Let us discuss that in our next post

An Appeal Disavowed: Rahul Dravid and Thiruvalluvar

To punish wrong, with kindly benefits the doers ply;

Thus shame their souls. . . .

(Thiruvalluvar, translated by G.U.  Pope)

Yep, the bowler was appealing.  Adam Gilchrist was not amused.  2013, Mohali, Punjab.  Gilchrist was playing for the Kings XI Punjab team, against the Rajasthan Royals, in the Indian Premier League. The ball had gone directly to the fielder, and the throw was on its way.  Gilchrist, who was backing up at the non-striker’s end, had to scramble to the safety of the crease. Just then, the ball hit Gilchrist on the glove, and ended up in the hands of Ajit Chandila,the bowler.  Gilchrist was caught well short of the crease.  Chandila immediately dislodged the bails, and appealed for a run-out.

Gilchrist, arguably the greatest wicket-keeper batsman ever in international cricket, was fuming.  This was clearly against the spirit of the game.  Here was this upstart, no-name bowler, tearing down centuries of tradition.  The umpires were caught off-guard by what was happening. An ugly confrontation was about to erupt.

Only one person could defuse the situation- the captain of the bowling team.  As luck would have it, the general on the field was one of the finest gentlemen that the game had ever seen.  A man with a steely determination, impeccable technique, unyielding spirit and unimpeachable character, Rahul Dravid was a man respected as much for his game as for the class with which he conducted himself.

The irony of the situation was, however, not lost on anybody.  Just five years earlier, the roles had been reversed.  Dravid had been at the receiving end of a controversial appeal by Gilchrist.  This happened in Sydney, Australia in 2008.  The stench from that infamous game,    to this day, taints the atmosphere of any India-Australia cricket match.  Indian fans and players alike are unlikely to forget this game, the cricketing equivalent of “The hand of God goal” game, that the English football fans have had to endure.

The clash was inevitable. Cricket had, but, one empire. The Australians dominated the game much like another island nation that had established an "Empire on which the Sun never sets." The Indian cricket team, initially an itinerant, irritant to the mighty Australians, had gradually grown to become a thorn in their flesh. They reflected the new-found confidence of the Indian nation. Their economy had started to gain strength in the new millennium, and the world could not ignore the reverberations as the mighty Indian elephant thundered ahead. In 2008, as Mukul Kesavan wrote in the Telegraph, "...the two grand narratives of 21st century cricket, India's growing economic clout and Australia's cricketing hegemony, met like unsheathed live wires.

Australia had won the first test match in Melbourne quite handily. The second test was fought more evenly. The cricket was, however, overshadowed by ugly gamesmanship. On more than one occasion, the Australian batsmen had clearly been out, caught, and had refused to walk. While fielding, they had claimed catches that were grounded. One of the Indian players, Harbhajan Singh, was even accused of racially insulting Andrew Symonds from Australia.

The men in charge, the umpires, in a perfect storm, had been equally pathetic. Calling the umpiring as sub-standard would have been insulting to the standard itself. The law of averages would dictate that in a five day game, the erroneous calls would even out between the two teams. However, due to sheer incompetence of the umpires, or for reasons hard to fathom. the game was decidedly being tilted towards Australia, much to the chagrin of the Indians.

A cricket test is as much a war of attrition as it is a clash of skills. By the final day of the match, tempers were frayed, patience was running thin, nerves were raw, and emotions were running high.

Rahul Dravid was the lone warrior on the bridge, holding the Aussies at bay. His was the prized wicket that the Australians needed for the win. Not for nothing was he nicknamed "The Wall". Anything directed at the stumps was met with a defence that could not be breached; every delivery away was left with a saintly dispassion. The fast bowlers had hurled every weapon at their disposal at him, but Dravid had survived. Ricky Ponting, the Australian captain, had to bring on his trundler, Andrew Symonds– hardly somebody who kept Rahul awake at night.

The fateful ball pitched well outside the off-stump; its line and length had been telegraphed to Rahul the minute it left the bowler's hand. Outside the offstump: no stroke. He tucked the bat safely out of harm's way, behind his pads. One more ball safely negotiated. Get ready for the next delivery. Dravid's precise decision-making and measured movements would have made any robotic engineer proud.

The ball grazed Rahul's front pad and landed in the gloves os Adam Gilchrist. Symonds went up in celebration as he appealed for a catch. So did the Australian fielders. Most surprisingly, Gilchrist, glorified by none other than the MCC as to "...encapsulate the Spirit of Cricket" threw the ball up in the air to celebrate a catch. The ball had gone clearly off the pad; only the most rabid of supporters, jaundiced by misplaced patriotism, could have been blind to it.

It is implausible that the wicketkeeper could not have known that the ball had hit the pad and not the bat. The video evidence (see 6:18 of the video clip) suggests that Gilchrist was watching the path of the ball until it reached his glove. As Peter Roebuck wrote in The Age, "...Doubtless the fieldsmen heard a noise, but canvas and wood make different sounds, a fact known to every cricketer. That the bat was hidden away behind the body was surely more obvious from behind."

Gilchrist maintained that he had appealed because of his uncertainty as to whether the ball had hit pad or bat. later, he wrote in his autobiography, True Colors, "...I appealed for something which I genuinely thought was out, and then replays showed that it wasn't. It may have come as a surprise to peter Roebuck and other critics, but I was not perfect...I thought Dravid had hit it. I was wrong!"

The entire episode should have been relegated to the place that it deserved– an inconsequential moment in a fascinating game lasting five days. Umpire Steve Bucknor made sure that it wasn't. he raised the dreaded finger.

R Dravid c Gilchrist b Symonds 38.

Rahul shook his head on his way back to the pavilion– as forceful an act of remonstration that this gentleman cricketer would ever display on the field. India went on to lose the game.

Coming back to Mohali, Punjab, Gilchrist was now at the receiving end of the appeal. He had been caught outside the crease, albeit of a deflected ball. Spirit of the game or not, this was professional cricket with high financial stakes. The bowler was appealing for a runout. Gilchrist was furious and was letting fly some choice epithets.

Rahul Dravid, the captain of the Rajasthan Royals, had to make a decision. In poetic justice, Dravid, the gentleman, stayed true to his colors. He quickly took charge of the situation and prevented it from getting any uglier.

Dravid rescinded the appeal. He walked up to the agitated Gilchrist and calmed him down. The game continued with but a minor hiccup. Rahul's spirit of sportsmanship and sense of ethics had defused a potentially explosive situation.

Rahul was, however, nobody's fool. He knew very well as to how and when to get his point across.

During the Cricket World Cup in 2015, Rahul was in the commentary box. The conversation meandered to the question of appealing by wicketkeepers in the face of a clear, non-catch. Rahul. Rahul asserted that most wicketkeepers, including himself, would appeal for fear of falling out of favor with the bowlers. A fellow commentator suggested that perhaps Gilchrist might be the exception, who would not.

Dravid stated: "Sydney Test– Rahul Dravid, caught Adam Gilchrist, bowled Andrew Symonds, is all am going to say."

"Missed the ball, did yo?" he was asked

"By miles."

Dravid's response was just as good as his cover drive– cool, measured, precise with perfect timing. And then he got ready for the next ball.

Read this story and others in The Goal Keeper in Midfield and Other Sports Stories"- coming soon to amazon.co.in and flipkart.com

Who arbitrates morality? Jesus Christ, Krishna and Kannadasan: Ilakkanam Marutho?

John 8:3- a dramatic scene from the New Testament. The teachers of religious law bring a woman accusing her of adultery. They want to stone her to death. Talking about fairness, there was no concern that the act had required a consenting partner. The Apostle of Peace answered, "Let anyone of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her." As one by one, her shamed accusers left, Christ advised her to go home and leave her life of sin.

It is easy to judge. All of us are the very barometers of what is right and what is not. Any perceived positioning of an individual below our estimate of our own moral values, certainly, is a cause for derision and name-calling. Anything above that, usually, sends us into a frenzy of fact-finding, to explore for possible skeletons in the cupboard of the glorified individual.  The success of TMZ, National Enquirer, and the several tabloids that line the aisles of the check out lanes of the grocery stores are proof enough.

There is no doubt that laws are and should be Universal. There cannot be too many interpretations of what is right and what is wrong; even then, we do have exceptions and expediating circumstances.

The ethical line, typically, stands less clearly demarcated, with more scope to interpret. Most professions demand and insist on an ethical standard that is to be maintained higher than the legal line. As a doctor, one cannot have an intimate relationship with a patient; the law of consenting adults do not apply.

The tricky question comes when moral issues are concerned. We have standards: some are derived from parents, some from society, some from books- more often sacred than secular, some from the pulpits and rarely, some from intuition.

Kannadasan has brought this issue of moral questioning into focus in one of his famous songs- இலக்கணம் மாறுதோ, இலக்கியம் ஆனதோ- Has Grammar transformed into literature?  from the movie "நிழல் நிஜமாகிறது." - A shadow becomes reality

A simpleton from a village, barely in her late teens, has a dream of becoming a princess; and why not? As a servant maid in a house, she presumes that the handsome, rich owner is the prince of her dreams, and falls for his overtures. About to be burdened with a child, whose father refuses to acknowledge his paternity, this young girl is now the object of scorn in society.

Is she immoral? Is she a gold-digger? Is she a vile temptress? With poverty preventing even a semblance of chance at redemption, here is this young girl, suddenly having to grow up and face the wrath of the self- appointed moral guardians.




தள்ளாடும் பிள்ளை உள்ளமும் வெள்ளை
தாலாட்டு பாட ஆதாரம் இல்லை
தெய்வங்கள் எல்லாம் உனக்காகப் பாடும்
பாடாமல் போனால் எது தெய்வம் ஆகும்
மறுபடி பிறக்கும் உனக்கொறு பாதை
உரைப்பது கீதை

Struggling kid, with a heart so pure
To sing a lullaby, doesn't have a proof
All the Gods shall sing for you
If they don't, what kind of Gods are they?
You will get another chance
Thus avers the Gita

Kannadasan goes to the aid of this girl, whose life has been swept into a vortex by currents that she can hardly fathom, let alone negotiate. He points his verbal arrows directly at the moral cops, who read the scriptures superficially, forgetting that morality devoid of humanity is to be discarded. Kannadasan questions the very validity of these self-appointed moral guardians dare condemn this unfortunate girl.

Good or evil, moral or vulgar, sacred or satanic, selfless or selfish- Oh and one of the best of them all- patriotic or treasonous- all it takes is a quick look or a superficial reading of a situation and we are happy to sit on our own moral thrones and pass judgement. Fortunately, in many civilized countries, we are not the juries and executioners. We are only painfully made aware of the societies that are the exceptions.

It is very tempting to feel secure, ensconsced in our own moral cocoons, and take potshots at the  so-called sinners of the world. We do not hesitate to ponder, as exemplified by the holy martyr Bradford. It is said that whenever he saw a man condemned for his sins, John Bradford would exclaim with utmost humility, "There, but for the Grace of God, goes me."- indicating that Bradford himself could have very well ended up as a sinner, if it were not for the Grace of the Almighty

In the final two lines of the quoted verse, Kannadasan assures the young girl of redemption, quoting the Gita. Every saint has a past and every sinner has a future. There, perhaps, cannot be a better example for this than Kannadasan himself. He was well known for his debauchery and moral transgressions, which he openly admitted to. His transformation into a philosopher-poet was as dramatic as they come.

अपिचेत सुधुरचारो भजते मां अनन्यभाक्
साधुरेवस मन्तव्यः  सम्यग्  व्यवसितो हिसः  (IX: 30)

क्षिप्रं भवति धर्मात्मा शस्वच्छान्तिम् निगच्छति
कौन्तेय प्रतिजानीहि नमे भक्तः प्रणश्यति (IX: 31)

Lord Krishna assures, "Even if a sinner worships Me with undivided devotion, he would be considered a saint, for he has the proper resolve.
Ere long he becomes righteous and attains peace everlasting. O Arjuna, know it for certain, that my devotee never perishes."

Is it All Perception Alone? Ullam Enbadhu Aamai

Does God exist? Does God need to exist? Did God create man? Did man create God? These questions are bound to elicit a lot of heat with only a modicum of light, which itself gets obscured by the dark cloud of emotions.

Kannadasan, the label-defying Tamil poet and accidental philosopher, deals with this question in his own unique way in one of his most famous songs "உள்ளம் என்பது ஆமை"- "the Mind is a turtle." The mind is a monkey- we have heard that one before, but a turtle? The mind is nimble, quick, sharp, incisive- in fact, the farthest from the legendarily slow, plodding turtle.  When Kannadasan starts his song thus, it makes one scratch his head until the song fully unfolds. His use of metaphors were original to say the least.

உள்ளம் என்பது ஆமை 
அதில் உண்மை என்பது ஊமை 
சொல்லில் வருவது பாதி- நெஞ்சில்
தூங்கிக் கிடப்பது மீதி

The mind is a turtle
Truth in it is silent
What comes out in words is just a part
The rest is asleep in the heart

A master, in a verbal stroke, paints the half-truths that people speak as the partly seen head of the turtle.  At the same time, the near silent nature of the turtle is taken advantage of in extending the metaphor further.  The poet does not forget rhyme and meter either.  No wonder that Kannadasan was a class unto himself.

The next stanza is when Kannadasan takes this song to immortality:

தெய்வம் என்றால் அது தெய்வம்- அது
சிலை என்றால் வெறும் சிலை தான்
உண்டென்றால் அது உண்டு
இல்லை என்றால் அது இல்லை

If you claim it is God, it is God— 'tis
A statue if you say, then it is a statue
It exists, if you say It exists
It does not, if you say it does not

Kannadasan believed in his personal God.  He was an atheist who later became a devoted Hindu. The socio-political landscape in Tamil Nadu, at that time, was dominated by atheists. The movie industry had its fair share of these free-thinkers. Was Kannadasan speaking to his erstwhile colleagues, justifying his new-found faith when he wrote this verse?—one can only speculate.

Materilaism and atheism are not new concepts.  In India, they were prevalent more than 2500 years ago.  The Charvakas (sweet-tongued) were one of the foremost skeptics, unapologetically materialistic, refusing to believe in anything that was not directly evident or perceptible.

There is no other world other than this:
There is no heaven and no hell;
The realm of Shiva and like regions,
are invented by stupid monsters. 

A more bold declaration cannot be made even today.  It is a reflection of the tolerance in ancient India, that nobody was burnt at the stake, or chopped with machetes (unlike what we see today) for these blasphemous statements.  The atheists were not branded, banned, threatened or dismembered.

The Charvakas firmly believed that perception alone is the source of knowledge, and consequently, only the objects of perception are real.

Only the perceived exists; the unperceivable does not exist, by reason for its not having been perceived...

There is no heaven, no afterlife. The Charvakas therefore had no qualms about hedonism— eat, drink and make merry was their motto. Pursuing worldly pleasures was encouraged, nay, insisted upon. What morality? Why ethics?

If direct perception alone is the standard of truth as the materialists insist, how infallible is perception? Only so long as it is not disproved. Many a wandering traveler has been misled by a vision of inviting water in the desert.

Kannadasan brings this point across with the freedom afforded to by his poetic license:

தண்ணீர் தணல் போல் எரியும்-
செந்தணலும் நீர் போல் குளிறும்

Water may glow like fire
Sizzling fire may cool like water

Is sensory perception the only barometer of truth? Is everything that is imperceptible to our senses then unreal? Are love, kindness, pity, affection unreal just because they are imperceptible? Is it foolish to prioritize them over sensory pleasures?

Society seemed to have made a decision. The Charvakas faded from the mainstream of Indian philosophy over time, in spite of offering freedom from the shackles of ethics and guilt of moralities. Maybe man did decide that a God was needed after all.

Ref: 
1. Billington, Ray. "5. The Heterodox Systems I." Understanding Eastern Philosophy. London: Routledge, 1997. 44-45.