Being happy is difficult, isn’t it?
As a school boy, i used to wake up to Suprabhatam by MS Subbulaxmi. It’s hard to imagine it in anybody else’s voice. Some may even mistake…
As a school boy, i used to wake up to Suprabhatam by MS Subbulaxmi. It’s hard to imagine it in anybody else’s voice. Some may even mistake her to be the composer of this timeless poem. For the record, Anantacharya wrote it centuries ago but, perhaps, it was destined to be MS’s signature. Similarly, when Abida Parveen croons soulful verses invoking ‘Bullah’, we somehow tend to forget that they were penned by Bulleh Shah almost half a millennium ago. A similar public behaviour can be seen when references are made to classic Bollywood songs from the ’50s, ’60s and the early ’70s. You’ll hear the names of marvelous singers being dropped with hardly anybody bothering to reveal the lyricists behind those beautiful tracks. Apparently, those who sat at those lonely tables don’t deserve to be applauded for their genius. Which is also why the ubiquitous nature of admiration reserved for poets like Gulzar saab and Leonard Cohen is such a relief!
Anyway, you’re reading this post thanks to Ravana. Yes, that mythical figure who challenged the gods but also happened to be a huge devotee (fanboy, for the millennials) of Shiva. In my amateurish study of Sanskrit, i keep stumbling upon ancient poems and the poetic maneuver of this magnificent language. The clarity in Vedic knowledge, despite its often vague conclusions, is indeed remarkable. What strikes me most is the expanse of vocabulary invested. There’s negligible space for mediocre syntax. Richness persists throughout. There’s no such a thing as a short poem either; at least the popular ones are amazingly vast and refuses to end anytime soon. I am impressed by whoever wrote them and more often than not, you’ll have to dig deeper to learn the author’s name.
Take for instance, the stotram (hymn) shared above. A compelling piece of poetry featuring Ravana’s description of Shiva. The chosen words are immaculate and leaves you with praise for the Lankan king. Although Shiva is being addressed, you’ll be more in awe of Ravana provided you try to find the author of this hymn. All credible sources lead you to believe that Ravana himself wrote it. Now, when a dohe by Nanak is rendered, you know for sure that it comes from a person within the boundaries of recorded history. Can this boundary stretch to Ravana? Most probably not. Because our historians, in collusion with scientists, don’t go beyond a certain past in terms of years. Everything else is myth and tales for kids to keep their eyes wide open. It’s an understandable approach though. We in 2017 are yet to figure out whether Shakespeare really wrote all those plays himself. Or for that matter, what is Voynich manuscript all about. How are we to ascertain that Ved Vyas went ahead and wrote the longest epic of all time with zero assistance from his contemporary events or people? If you think JRR Tolkien or George RR Martin are incredibly awesome — which they are for their colossal body of work — wonder where one should place Vyas in the pyramid of literature? In a confusing event like this, an optimist would avoid the debate and seek happiness in the fact that at least the work exists, even if there are doubts about its authorship.
Speaking of happiness, there is a brilliant stanza in the aforementioned stotram, wherein Ravana asks Shiva the reasons behind his discontentment. Simply put, why is he not happy despite having everything a man can wish for?
Unfortunately, Shiva wasn’t/isn’t into poetry of the literary kind, so, we’ll never know the answer to this glorious question.
Our bad.