Prosperity

Part I: Happy Birthday

Bonu, my love, my sister, Aritri,

Soldier, maker of your own destiny,

You have grown and gained prosperity,

With house and home, friends and family

All the comforts of life at your feet

 

May you enjoy these and more,

May every year have bounties in store,

May you always help those who are in need,

May you never succumb to greed,

May your wisdom ever increase.

 

You can stop reading here seriously,

عيد ميلاد سعيد (Eid milad saeid), may you be happy,

But if you want to read, I have a story,

Whose meaning I hope you can see,

And live your life accordingly.

 

Part II: Kubera

 

Long ago in the Vedas it is told,

How all creation came to unfold,

There were Gods and Demons, but Bonu did you know?

That apart from these, there were the Others also?

Who were to the humans neither friend nor foe.

 

They were thieves and tricksters, prostitutes and spies,

All useful in their own way, but universally despised,

Which is why they were categorised,

As the amitra jana, the unfriendly ones,

Neither loved nor hated, merely utilized.

 

By those who wanted money, but did not want to earn,

They turned to these outcasts in order to learn,

How to get rich quick at others' expense,

And thus thrived an underworld so dense,

That the wealth of society accumulated in their dens.

 

That is how the king of their secret society

A creature named Kubera, came to be,

The epitome of opulence, the master of stealth,

Even before Lakṣmī became a Goddess,

Kubera was Dhanada, the (original) giver of wealth

 

Stories were written about him, he was invoked,

At coronations, births and weddings, so he'd be stoked,

And grant boons of power and of course hard cash,

But that did not last, and his stocks crashed,

He was replaced by a new Goddess at last.

 

Part III: Lakṣmī

 

Some say she is the daughter of the sea

Others say she was born of a muni

We know her as the Goddess Lakṣmī

Seated on a lotus, decked in finery

Worshipped always by all and sundry

 

But why does this powerful Lady,

Bow always at her husband's feet?

Why when we say 'Lakṣmī has come',

(At the birth of a daughter)

We mean it sarcastically?

 

Before she was known as a Goddess you see,

She was just the representation of money,

To be owned and used at others' mercy,

Just like a woman under Patriarchy.

(And that's why she's a 'she' not a 'he')

 

Wealth circulates, luck is unpredictable,

But she is blamed and called चञ्चला (Chanchalā) the fickle,

Men ruin themselves trying to possess her,

When they fail they call her जया (Jayā) the indomitable,

And proceed to weave an elaborate fable.

 

Of how Vishnu tamed her, made her his wife,

Raped her as Tulsi, made her take her own life,

Because in the end, even the most precious prize,

Is but an object, to be used or abused,

That's why Bonu I hope you realize.

 

Neither the pursuer nor the pursued be,

Lead your life with equanimity,

I know you're the champion of frugality,

This is just a reminder, queen; Forgive me,

For being worried sometimes, as your Didi

Once more on your annual coming of age,

Didi has this special message,

Happy Birthday sister, may you have many more,

May you visit and be welcome at any shore,

May sorrow and woe be gone from your door.

 

Indra and Hanuman

Invocation

 

Upon the waves of the milky ocean,

Using a coiled serpent as his bed,

Lies the shining deity Ranganatha

 

His lotus feet I always seek,

His praises I shall ever sing,

For wisdom lies therein.

 

Story

 

My dearest friend, sister mine,

You had always taken a shine,

To the bedtime stories I once told,

When you were not yet half as old

As you are today.

 

So I tell you another tale,

Of a hero you know and love,

Blessed with strength and fearlessness,

But was too young to know better

And abused it.

 

He liked fruits you see,

Because he was a monkey,

And in his childish fun,

Set his eyes upon the sun,

To eat it.

 

Monkey see and monkey do,

Doesn’t think things through,

Just to fulfil his desire,

Leaps high and flies higher

Into orbit.

 

Unlike another young man,

From another mythology,

Who flew wings held with wax,

Our monkey leapt into the sky,

And didn't die.

 

The sun looked at him and fled,

And to the other Gods he pled,

Save me from that crazy ape,

Who follows with mouth agape,

He'll kill me.

 

Then He who had a thousand eyes,

Firstborn of Aditi, ever wise,

Appeared at his brother's call,

And to stop the monkey small,

He punched him.

 

Mighty though he was, the ape,

Was no match for Indra the great,

And fell to the ground nearly dead,

But at his father Vayu's request,

Indra raised him.

 

Little monkey you are small but bold,

You will know better when you're old,

Until then your powers I keep,

Under lock and key, for you to use,

In emergency.

 

I resurrect you, said the King,

And heal your broken jaw,

Because in Sanskrit the same,

Is called a हनु (hanu), your name,

Shall be Hanuman.

 

Thus it happened when the time

To leap to Lanka came around

To rescue Sita and report to Ram

His awesome powers were unbound

The rest you know.

 

Benediction

 

Bonu, like your favourite God,

You have reached many heights,

The clan, the country and career,

All behold you with pride

And always will.

 

In telling you this ancient tale,

I hope to not only regale,

And pass the time, but also tell,

Know your powers and know also

Your limits.

 

Know your foes, choose your friends

For their bravery and good sense

So that they will not hesitate

To either praise you or punch you

To set you straight.

 

As in heaven the thunder wielder

As on earth the immortal ape

Guide their respective realms

So may my sister lead and protect

Her dependents.

화유기 2

(Hwayugi 2)

On the occasion of Vijayadaśami, and the departure of the Goddess, I wrote this summary of the mythological Korean Drama Hwayugi in Sanskrit, dedicating it to the Goddess Gwan-eum (Sanskrit: Avalokitasvarā) who secretly controls the plot of this story in the form of 'the peddler'. May the Goddess bless us all.

धर्मार्थकामदां देवीं नमामि शोकनाशिनीं ।
निर्वाणरूपांवरदां आर्यामवलोकितस्वराम् ।।

I bow to the noble Goddess Avalokitasvarā, who is the provider of dharma, artha and kāma, the destroyer of grief, the granter of boons and the embodiment of nirvāṇa.

बन्ध्नासित्वं हरिश्रेष्ठं चञ्चलं प्रीतिनिग्रहे ।
येनसः रतिमान्लेभे दैवैपि विजयं शुभम् ।।

You bind the best of monkeys, who is capricious, in the bonds of love, owing to which the smitten one achieves victory even over fate.

याजातातवप्रसादेन अहिंहन्यतेतया ।
सुबोधिनः च देवानाम् सिध्यतैवतारया ।। 

The dragon is slain by the woman born by your grace; (the mission) of Subodhi and the Gods is accomplished by that Avatar.

सुरासुरयोः मध्येत्वं संधिंघटयसिप्रियम् ।
रक्षसि वृशभपुत्रं क्षमसेतस्यमातरम् ।।

You cause a delightful union between the Gods and Monsters; you protect the son of the Bull and forgive his mother (i.e. the Bull's wife).

एषा कथा रमणीया कीर्तिभिः तव प्रेरिता ।
विरचिता हङ् स्वसृभ्यां भासतांमेहृदिसदा ।।

May this gratifying tale inspired by your exploits and composed by the two Hong sisters always shine in my heart.

Note: Feedback on errors in my Sanskrit composition are welcome. 

화유기

(Hwayugi)

Invocation

तुष्यत देव देवेश अन्याः श्रेष्ठाः च द्वादशाः ।
मोक्षयात तापात्दीनान्  श्रेयसि यान्तु ते सदा ।।

Tale

I dreamt I was Indiana Jones
Chased by a rolling stone
But the tunnel was a Mobius strip
And there was no way back home

The ceiling was broken in parts
Opening out to the sky

But for the purpose of escape
It was just a bit too high

On and on and on again
I ran then fell then walked
As soon as I thought it was gone
The stubborn stone appeared

Unable to run, unable to rest
Too hopeful to die
I was trapped in this cycle
Too weary even to cry

Cornered then I had no choice
But to turn around and look
And observe my nemesis
As the ground it shook

And I found the boulder then
Was of a curious sort
Just slow enough to outrun
But too fast for comfort

So placing my trust in my brains
And my heart in my hand
I braced myself for impact
Making it my last stand

Lo and behold! The boulder bold
Stopped right there in its track
The walls all came tumbling down
And I woke up on my back

This parable that Morpheus wove
I do now understand,
The Gods may write a cruel fate
But not one we can’t stand

With pluck and smarts and faith besides
All doom is overcome
The monkey with the heart of stone
Will to the monk succumb

Epilogue

I am no good at verse or to converse (to), but around good company I begin to think that although no meteor may cross my sky, the stars will always be bright.

The Bell of Mithra

I found in an abandoned temple

A bell, wrapped in cobwebs and silence

That once honored an ancient deity

Who even now lay asleep within

Curious, my heathen hand

Reached out to the sacred metal

And along with the silvery peals

A whisper filled the air

Softly, it spoke of the memories

Of the exploits of that divinity

The prayers answered, The miracles wrought

The feats achieved by the devoted flock

Until one day when the winds of chance

Filled the sails of their ambitions

And drove them, each to divers ports

Away from their community

"Some carried the light of their faith"

Said the voice, "and that is why"

"Despite their distance and my age

Uninvoked, I am still alive"

"And who are you?", I asked the presence

"What is the faith that sustains you?

How is it that you fell asleep?

And how come you are now awake?"

"I am Mithra, Lord of the Covenant

Friendship is the faith that sustains me

Space and time may send me to slumber

But remembrance will awaken me"

"Whether you be part of a fleet

Or single ships that pass in the night

I am the basis of your joy

I am the pillar of your comfort"

"My bell is none but your lines and cables

Borne on pylons and buried under the sea

This copper and glass, it lies in wait

For those who would communicate"

"Dwell not on the encounters of the past

Or of the years lost in separation

But ring my bell, here and now

So new memories may be made"

And thus enlightened I dedicate

This year past and the year forthcoming

To the old friends in distant ports

To the new ones that are not yet so

Fortune I thank for bringing us together

More than once in our lifetime

But to you I owe a greater debt

For you have never let me go.

स्वयं विधाता

शिव - गौरी के चौसड़ के खेल में
हम गोटी नहीं खिलाड़ी हैं
करमजोग के जो है पुजारी 
पूजें उन्हें त्रिपुरारी है

Gravel - Part I

Hail! Samarkand, end of all roads

Proud abode of the great and good

Light of the desert, sight for sore eyes

Balm to the weary of heart and foot.

The sun sets on Her pearly domes

And shatters into a million lights

Her bazaars fill with men and wares

Her gardens with all earthly delights.

As they walk past Her blessed gates

Both men and beasts sigh in relief

For the day's journey has come to an end

And tomorrow is but a distant dream.

Among this throng of travellers

Is a Viking of the Russian tribe

And a Moroccan and a Chinaman

With a hundred more of every stripe.

They marvel at the sights and sounds

And enjoy the moonlit scented breeze

They plod along the winding lanes

In search of a meal and a place of ease.

Between the palm-lined cobbled streets

Runs a lonely dark gravel-lined lane

It harbours nought but a lonely inn

At whose door stood our heroes fain.

Well met good Sirs, the innkeeper said

Please step over my humble threshold

But the price of my hospitality

Mark thee! Is not to be paid in gold.

A tale I seek from each of you

In exchange for victuals and rest

As long as you can entertain me

Your honours can remain my guest.

Though puzzled by this clause unique

They entered and sat at his table

And as soon as their meal was done

The Moroccan began his fable.

The Punishment

Disclaimer:

No disrespect meant to any people and places. The world is a family.

Banupriya is real. She really calls me Roy. She is a scientist in a laboratory. Her laboratory is not in Lahore.

Also, she is not one to curse people lightly. Especially my sister and me. So if you are Banupriya, please don't curse me for casting you in my story.

I don't live in Beirut. I have no reason to be there.

I miss my sister, who is really at home.

The Blood Sacrifice

"Drink! I implore you!"
"No."
"I command you in the name of my great grandmother twice removed! Drink and discharge your duty!"
"You know?"
"I know. NOW DRINK."
"I can't, young mistress. Your blood will poison me."
"That's a lie you were fed with. Just drink. Please!"

But his fear was too great. Granted, he wasn't much use dead. But it was a lie that held him ransom.
I had no choice. I slit my radial artery with his fingernails, and let the blood trickle into his mouth. It took him two seconds to verify my statement, and soon he was drinking of his own accord.

A hundred and sixty years ago his blood had saved my village from the clutches of drought. A vampire had promised the location of an underground spring in exchange for a successor and a blood sacrifice.
But we humans are wily creatures. Once our ends were met, the vampire was burnt and his successor tamed.

I watched him as he finally revived, this guardian of my family for 5 generations, who had nearly died fighting off his rabid brethren - trying to protect me. He licked my bleeding wrist, healing the cut.

"You need the hospital."
"So call an ambulance."
"You'll be dead by the time it gets here."
"And you'll be recognized and burnt if you carry me there."
"That's a risk I'm willing to take."

Imhotep & Mithra

The city of Takshashilà, in Emperor Janmajeya’s reign, was host to a university of great repute. The city had the distinction, among similar centres of learning, of also having one of the highest GDP’s, owing to a number of emerald and silver mines unearthed by the snake-worshipping tribes who once resided here.

Here lived, in the twenty eighth year of the regent’s career, a student of law, named Sandhàtà. He came from a clan of low-caste miners in the forests of northern Jhàrkhanda. At 14 he had displayed a very organized, very different approach towards mining and metallurgy, which was fortunately seen as a sign of a promising academic career by the tribal elders. He was sent to Pàtaliputra that very year during the annual tribute payments to the King of Magadha, who in an act of rare benevolence recommended him to theTakshashilà University in Gandhàra.

Also among the university’s cosmopolitan students that year was a student of astronomy, known as Jeb. He belonged to a family of affluent Assyrian traders in Thinis, the capital of Upper Egypt, settled there for nearly eight generations now. His family had gained favour with the Pharaoh by forging critical marriage alliances with the nobility. And it was in exchange for a promise of such compliance that Jeb’s mother had allowed him to get toTakshashilà on a myrrh-trading ship.

And so it was fated that the two would meet in this charming city, during the picturesque festival of Sharada Navaràtri, which culminated in the beginning of the academic year. On the ninth day, the day of the feastingof sacrificial meat, in a stall selling pork buns, Sandhàtà accidentally dropped his hot bun on Jeb’s lap.

They spoke to each other in Sanskrit, a language foreign to both. Sandhàtà’s few, yet eloquent words drew a cascade of wit and pleasantries from Jeb, and soon he was drawn to the other as a river is drawn towards the ocean.

Their friendship blossomed over the year like lotuses bloom with the rising of the sun. Their days began with bunking the perfunctory prayer sessions and ended in walks in the city’s gardens or in games of dice.They talked of what shone in the heavens and what lay in the bowels of the earth, of the waves of the ocean and the vagaries of human nature. In time they became inseparable, and in the second year of their study, Jeb accompanied his friend to his abode in the South of Magadha.

It was here, during the tribal festival dedicated to the yakshinìs or fertility goddesses of the forests, that Jeb‘s kohl-lined gray eyes met the anjanì-lined brown eyes of Mahua, the betrothed of Sandhàtà. Neither uttered a word, for there was nothing between them that words could give expression to.They rejoiced with Sandhàtà’s kin, as details of the wedding were planned. And in this bittersweet disposition, Jeb left with his friend.

The months rolled by in Takshashilà just as happily as before and soon it was Vijayàdashami again. But ill winds blew in the news ofthe death of the Kuru emperor, and the King of Magadha showing his true colours withdrew all scholarships he had issued – including Sandhàtà’s. Needless to say, Jeb came to the rescue.

They completed their studies without further event. Both being fine youths of 21 summers now, it was time for Jeb to return to Egypt, where hewas to continue the family tradition of marrying the only daughters of powerful matriarchs, and for Sandhàtà to pursue a career in the court of Pàtaliputra. But the gods had other ideas.

One of Jeb’s elder sisters’ fleets had been caught smuggling olive oil from Cyprus, and in an act of extreme xenophobia, the whole family was sentenced to exile in Muab. News of this scandal reached them in Gandhàra, and Sandhàtà who was now a Doctor of Law boldly decided to cross the seas and accompany his friend to Egypt.

In Thinis his credentials were accepted by the Pharaoh Narmer, then reigning for the twenty first year, and as counsel to Jeb’s family he was able to restrict the sentence to just his elder sister and her children. Impressed by Sandhàtà’s erudition, an influential scribe offered his daughter Renizneb’s hand in marriage to him, with the promise of establishing him in theThinite court. Silenced by gratitude, Jeb witnessed his friend’s fall to temptation.

Thus, when Sandhàtà returned home to bid his tribe farewell and be married a second time, he was accompanied by his new bride and old friend. Seeing this state of affairs, Mahua refused the alliance and in defiance of Sandhàtà boldly asked for Jeb’s hand in public. Jeb was momentarily shocked, but was encouraged by his friend to accept, which strengthened his own will. And so our newly-wed heroes proceeded to Egypt, never to return.

Mahua and Jeb’s marriage, as was inevitable, was frowned upon by his family, who went to the extreme step of disowning him when he refused to divorce her. Luckily, Jeb was offered the position of The Master ofthe Temple Scribes in the holy town of Sais in Lower Egypt, which he gladly accepted.

Two years passed thus, as Sandhàtà’s influence grew in the capital, and Jeb’s repute rose among the priests and scholars. The political divide between Upper and Lower Egypt was scarcely strong enough to keep the friends apart, as they frequently sailed up and down the river. Even the times were changing in conspiracy with their friendship. Young Menes, son of Narmer and heir to the throne of Thinis was eyeing the conquest of the Nile Delta, to fulfil an ambitious plan of uniting the two kingdoms.

In the twenty third year of the Pharaoh’s reign, Mahua and Jeb were blessed with a daughter. An overjoyed Sandhàtà immediately sailed downriver to see his friend. Renizneb, who was still childless and green-eyed, hatched an evil plot as she invited Jeb and his family to Thinis.

Renizneb’s family was a key supporter of Menes’ design and her uncle a prominent part of its execution. She plotted with him to have all four of them caught in the revolts in the river port of Ankh Tawy en route to Thinis.The ingenuity lay in the fact that she and her husband would easily slip through due to her allegiances, and Mahua & her child would be put to death.

Well things went wrong, for her, as her uncle was slain and the revolt quelled by the forces of the Lower Kingdom. Sandhàtà was found guilty of conspiring with her uncle and sentenced. Jeb, in spite of being in danger of condemnation himself, pled on his behalf. His pleas fell on deaf ears. However Sandhàtà could convince them that Renizneb was innocent and was given time to escort her back to Thinis, during which Jeb would stand as his bail & proxy.

Once in Thinis, Renizneb knew it would be a matter of time before Menes’ forces turned the tables and Jeb would become more than a proxy.She delayed her husband long enough, and soon he was out of danger. Fortunately he realized her scheme in that duration, and fled to Jeb’s aid after divorcing her.

He reached Ankh Tawy just as Jeb was about to be thrown to the crocodiles, and narrated his tale. Astonished by his devotion to his friend, the newly crowned Menes pardoned both of them and established them in the new capital of united Egypt.

Sandhàtà married again eventually, and left the bar for good. He went on to become a polymath – architect, physician, scribe and High Priest, and served four Pharaohs – including the Pharaoh Djoser, under whose reign he was deified as Imhotep (Egyptian for Sandhàtà). Egyptologists today search for his tomb in vain, because he was cremated in accordance with his native religion.

Jeb wrote several texts on astronomy and mathematics, and was most celebrated in his ancestors’ land of Assyria, where his works were published under the name of Mithra (Sanskrit for Jeb), and was also deified later by the followers of Zoroaster.

Though the chroniclers of their time have rendered these celebrated names disparate, their tale is whispered still in the cells of the university ruins and the harbours along the Nile. The sands around Thinis and sacred Santhal groves narrate till this day, this story of true fraternity that was not established by ties of blood. This tale I dedicate to my friends everywhere, with a promise of sorority, just as true.

---

This story is composed of exactly eighteen references to a legend, mystery or historical event. Happy Hunting! – Ishita Roy

Jatayu & Sampati

Jatayu & Sampati

Mors Mortis

Death is a poorly understood phenomenon, in spite of the sheer volume of philosophy and research dedicated to understanding it. One potent indicator of this is the prevalence of myths and legends about the undead.

These lores and legends talk about the consequences of an interrupted transition to the afterlife. The creatures that are born out of such consequences have been described differently across the ages, and much can be surmised about the original purpose behind describing them and the inspiration behind those descriptions.

Classification

I.            Incorporeals – Ghosts, Spirits, Poltergeists, Banshees, etc.

These are apparitions which arise spontaneously as a consequence of the deceased having unfulfilled desires. More often than not, the cause of death is foul play, but COD and post-mortem treatment are not a major criterion for their origin.

These beings are not attached to corpses, but are very location specific.

II.            Reanimated Corpses – Zombies, Mummies, Inferi, etc.

These creatures are generated by special post-mortem treatment and usually have limited sentience. In the rare occasions that they have a will of their own, such as in the case of Frankenstein, it is usually derived from the past experiences of the inhabitant of the corpse in question. Cause of death is deciding factor.

III.            Modified Corpses – Vampires, Lycanthropes, Dementors, etc.

The living body is sustained by food, breath and water, and has corresponding powers and limitations. When the body loses the capability to sustain itself and hence its life-force, death occurs. Theoretically, death can be ‘cheated’ by modifying the mode of sustenance. Naturally this gives rise to a whole new creature, with different powers and limitations. The term Undead is most usually applied to such creatures.

Lycanthropes, such as werewolves, and Mr. Hyde, are creatures that are capable of dual existence i.e. both in human and supernatural forms, the latter being parasitic on the former. Vampires, on the other hand, are immortals, requiring blood or some other form of life force – ichor, or chi, for example – for sustenance.

Vampires

Vampire lore is one of the most enduring legends in the world. Its timeless appeal is attributable to both its foundations and its adaptability. I present here some of the key components of the lore.

Blood

Blood is one of the two liquid connective tissues, and along with breath, the very symbol of vitality. It is unsurprising, therefore, that it is held in reverence. But unlike breath, blood is also intimately linked to procreation, which makes it especially venerable; fit for a sacrifice to the gods, even.

World over, various rites and practices have been reported that are founded upon the sanctity of blood. These practices range from the Mayan human sacrifices, to the smearing of jurors’ lips with blood before they passed judgment, in Ancient China. Most notable among these is the Catholic tradition of Corpus Christi – the symbolic partaking of the blood and the body of Christ.

Thus, one of the original reasons for condemning vampires was that they partake of the essence of godliness, the divine offering – in effect denying and denouncing the divinity of the Deity.

Evil

What makes a vampire fundamentally different from a mosquito? A mosquito wreaks much more havoc, is zealously hunted, yet never condemned – merely accepted as a part of creation. Why then, are vampires not treated as a separate species and left at that?

More often than not, it seems, vampires are punished as humans are, because they have lost their humanity. But is the resemblance to a human adequate reason for judging a vampire on the human scales of good and evil?

Is it that like the humans, vampires are damned by an Original Sin of their own, because their progenitor was created out of an act of heresy or a curse?

These are only some of the questions that arise out of the possibility of such creatures. The fact remains that evil has been as misunderstood by humans as death has been. Perhaps the vampire legends are an indicator – a litmus test of sorts – for the concepts of good and evil popular during the creation of those legends. Dracula, for example, is described as being wholly evil. Modern tales like the Vampire Diaries and the Twilight Saga, however, ascribe to them a choice, an attempt at redemption.

Eternity

The fact that senescence and death are essential to the renewal of life on this planet, give them a place of honour among the theistic laws of the universe – all those are born, must die. The vampire legends give them the powers of immortality, but not invincibility – they can still be destroyed.

Nevertheless, the vampires’ existence, if only in theory, tells of a way to flout this divine law. And it is for the transcendence of this law that vampires are also often condemned. But all legends concur on one thing – that eternal life itself is punishment for seeking it.

Life can be harsh, even for those who are seemingly well provided for. It requires courage to face the here and now, and live every moment. Much has been written about life being wasted on the living. Imagine how much harder it would be to try to live on for eternity, with nothing but a conscience (if any) for company.

This is most prominent in Anne Rice’s works, whose vampire protagonists fight the eternal battle between the loneliness of the damned and their lust for preternatural power.

Whatever they may be, sentient, or evilly so, or maybe just a glorified human, the concept of vampires is definitely unfamiliar to those who do not see death as an end or to those who’ve never believed in any evil force like The Adversary, and generally find both death and evil easier to accept.

The western mentality makes it hard to accept both Death and Evil. And hence the origin of the lore surrounding the Undead in the Occident. Creatures who have cheated death. Creatures who resemble humans yet prey upon them. Creatures who must do evil to sustain themselves.

These things, vampires and such, are powerful insights into occidental ideas of death and evil. The lore is ubiquitous and contemporary, because they deal with questions which are eternally on the western mind.