Samad Mir's "Tarawatiy"

A Kashmiri Muslim poet's devotional hymn to Goddess Tara

 

 

On a lazy Sunday we were tuned into Radio Sharda(a community radio of Kashmiri Pandits).Moti Lal Kemmu’s (a renowned scholar and an expert on Folk Theatre of Kashmir) interview was being broadcast . The interview was interspersed with requests of songs by Mr.Kemmu. He requested for Samad Mir’s poem “Praran praran Tarawatiye”.It was sung by Ama Kandur in Chakri(Kashmiri folk music) style. Though I had read many of Samad Mir’s poems I hadn’t heard of this one till then.

The poem describes Goddess Tara, her iconography and her attributes. I have heard from some people that Samad Mir’s Tarawati is a Kashmiri Pandit woman (who he might have seen or known) which is erroneous as we will soon discover. While he has contextualized the deity in Kashmiri environs yet the description is essentially of the one who he describes as the “Goddess who emerged victorious in Bengal”.

Goddess Tara (one of the Dash-Mahavidhyas) is primarily a Hindu Goddess who later manifests in Buddhist iconography as well, but the Goddess described by our poet is the one as she is described and worshipped in the Hindu pantheon. To be more precise the description matches the idol of the Goddess at the shrine of Tarapitha (in Bengal).The worship of Goddess Tara is not unknown to Kashmiris. Even today there are atleast two villages in South Kashmir which owe its origin to this Goddess- The village of Tarigom near Kulgam(which now has no traces of any temple) and the village of Taragom near Qazigund(which has a living temple of  considerable antiquity considering the stone sculptures and a spring dedicated to the deity).

I attempt to translate the poem.

Praran praaran tarawatiyay,aitay nazaar traav

Kharran poozaye jhafer phateye*,aitay nazaar traav

For long have I sought thee, Reveal thy true self to me O! Tarawati,

Caskets of marigolds will I entreat you with, Reveal thy true self to me

*The sculpture of Goddess (at the Tarapitha Shrine) is adorned with garlands of marigold flowers

 

Durdaane lab lal yim chey vatheye,khande seet maey vaseraav

Tim chey chamkaan aadam raateye,aitay nazaar trav

Your parted pearl like lips, glowing red with human blood*

Deter me not with that mirage (of external manifestation), Reveal thy true self to me

(* In Mundmala Tantra,Goddess is described as consuming human as well as animal blood. She is said to be fonder of human blood, which is always on her lips. This has esoteric meaning and should not be fallaciously understood by its literal meaning.)

 

Kamane abrunis alifiy khateye,zamaney maey katraav*

Yim Chasme siya chey aafatey, aitay nazaar trav

Eyebrows like arrows on a bow, dark eyes symbolizing annihilation

With scissors of spiritual transcendence, Reveal thy true self to me  

(* The goddess carries scissors in one of her hands with which she cuts the weed of desire and propels her devotees on the path of transcendence)

 

Yim naeze acharvalav maey ditey,tim doptham vateraav

Bhi mare korthas che taem bharketey, aitay nazaar trav

Piercing, your eyelashes, that as boon you bestowed (on me)

Freed me from the bondage of death, Reveal thy true self to me 

 

Aath dare paeth chakh shubaan latiye,paanas kareth paeraav

Kripaye aes aaye aavbhagatay, aitay nazaar trav

Resplendent, in your beauty, Adorable, you sit by the window

We beseech your divine grace, Reveal thy true self to me

 

Mahtaab royas kareth chaaye gateye,aftaab mandechith draav*

Sadaye vodunay prazlaan sitare phateye,  aitay nazaar trav

Circumambulating your moonlike radiant face, dwarfed and disgraced felt the sun

A galaxy lies strewn on your tippet, Reveal thy true self to me

(*In Buddhist iconography the Goddess sits in the orb of the moon with sun forming the exterior orb. This verse could be a reference to that)

 

Daeke tike chyon di lach laal pateye,taakaene haej maey thaav

Zulfan Tal chay noorich bateye, aitay nazaar trav

Thy orb (ajna chakra) is a million rubies,O hide it not(under your headgear)

 Beneath the darkness (of your black hair) shines gnosis, Reveal thy true self to me

 

Kad chyon shamshad Tan sheeshe dateye,seemab tatey mandechaav

Seene aayenay naare pistaan rateye*, aitay nazaar traav

Intense you are, glowing brighter than mercury

Smeared with blood, breasts shining (like fire), Reveal thy true self to me

*Since her lips are open (as mentioned in the second verse-lab chey vatheye) blood keeps oozing out and after falling on her breasts it resembles fire.

 

Tot aaye aashiq naendere hateye*,Kate chak te kya chuy naav

Sandere tyake chane chanderaymateye, aitay nazaar traav

Bereft of sleep, your devotees seek (you), bewildered and mesmerized

In rapture, by the grace of vermillion (on your forehead), Reveal thy true self to me

*The opportune time to invoke the blessings of the Goddess is between midnight and breaking of dawn, which explains why devotees are bereft of sleep (naendere hateye)

Yim Chah Afsoone Saaz aaye paatiye,Bengaale zyunuth daav

Yim naeze kaem jodugaaran ditiye, aitay nazaar traav

You the embodiment of art, who reigns over Bengal

What hath gave thy absolute wisdom, Reveal thy true self to me

In the concluding two verses the poet teaches us about the means with which one can realize the Goddess

Saat paaev haer khas pateye pateye,lagecth che daentuv khraav

Zoone dabe baethek nich bhagwateye*, aitay nazaar traav

Rise through the seven chakras of Kundlani, purified like ivory

Awakened, you will realize the Goddess, Delve into thyself

*There are seven ladders in awakening (Jagriti) of self. It is called the rise of Kundalini.He/She who reaches the highest ladder(Sahasrar Chakra) is considered the realized one and the one who sits (metaphorically) near his/her deity.

Yehlok manz kar kar adityae,Parlok manz parkhaav

Nish Samad Miras haech zagratye, aitay nazaar traav

Perfect this art here, triumphant will you emerge there

From Samad Mir, learn the art of awakening (the kundalini), Delve into thyself 

   

Huma Asli Maheshwar Bood by Ali Mardan Khan

The collage painting by  Claudia Dose represents the 36 tatvaas of Kashmir Saivism. One can clearly see the influence of the great Kashmiri Master of Neo-tantric art Ghulam Rasool Santosh.

 

 

Not many people in Kashmir would have known the name, Ali Mardan Khan, had it not been for the small area in downtown Srinagar that is named after this Afghan Governor. Despite this he would have remained a name in the books of history like many others rulers but for the verses that immortalized him in Kashmiri Folklore, despite him not being a Kashmiri. The verses were written at a time which was clearly our dark ages. It was forbidden for non Muslims (read Hindus) to read their scriptures or practice their religion openly. I am not sure if it is entirely true but it is widely believed that the Hindus were ordered not to recite Sanskrit verses thus forcing them to make Persian as their language of connect to their deities. Whatever may be the historical accuracy of this “order”, to this day we recite Bhakti verses in Persian and there is one in particular which I remember and goes something like this:

 

Chakreshwari Hajat rawa,Sajath gada ra padshah

Vaah Vaah chi Lakshmi Thapna,shree sharika devi nama

That Goddess Chakreshwari, who can turn a beggar into a king

She who listens to our prayers and answers them

I salute, thee, Seat of Lakshmi, who incarnates in the form of Sharika (in Kashmir)

 

To cut a long story short, one evening Ali Mardan had a vision which took the shape of a beautiful Persian Devotional Poem .Most of us keep rendering them at religious and social festivals with fervor & devotion. Thanks to the oral tradition that has helped carry this poem in its totality to us. It also is a commonplace in most of our Leela* renditions. I am using the version published in Sahaj Kosam (compiled by Moti Lal Saqi) for Mast Bab Ashram. It is slightly different from the version (the last verse differs) that comes down to us via the oral route .I make an attempt to transliterate the verses.

Huma Asli Maheshwar Bhood,Shab Shahi ki Man Deedam

Ghazanfar Charma-e-barbood,Shab Shahi Ki Man Deedam.

It was Shiva, the real God, the King I saw that night

Adorned was his body with Lion Skin, the King I saw that night

 

Ze  Basmash Jam-e-bar-tan,Zunar-ish mar-e-bar garden

Ravanish Gang-e-bar sarbood,Shab Shahi…….

Besmeared with ash, Instead of the scared thread a snake coiled around his neck

Un ebbed flow the Ganga from his locks, the King I saw that night

 

Sah Chashmash bar-jabee-daarad,Zi mahro maaha roshan tar

Se Karan Daste-Bastah Bood,Shab Shahi…….**

Brighter than sun and moon, shone his three eyes

In Salutations to him stood Vishnu, Brahma and Shiva (the 3 causes of the universe), the King……….

**This verse needs a little explanation, the three reasons though commonly understood as Shiva,Vishnu and Mahesh are seen in a different way by the Saivities of Kashmir. The Will (Iccha Shakti of Citi-Supreme Consciousness) in itself has the triple process of manifesting, maintaining and dissolving the universe. So the three reasons could also be understood as attainment of Swantraya (Freedom from Bondage of Ignorance)

 

Be Dastash AAb-e-Kaunsar,Ve bekh Nakoosay Nilofar

Hilalash Taj Bar Sar Bood,Shab Shahi…….

With a conch of Lotus Shoot in one hand and the pitcher of nectar in another

The Crescent Moon embellished his forehead, the King……….……

 

Uma az soi-chip-binger, Zi Sad Khursheed Taban-tar

Savare Kulb-e-nar bood,Shab Shahi…….

Uma on his left, effulgent, like a thousand suns

Beseated on Nandi, I saw the king that night……

 

Ajab Sanyasa deedam,Namo Narayanay Guftam

Be Khakhay Paye Bosidam,Shab Shahi….

Wonderstruck I said Namo Narayan, incredible sage he was

In reverence, I bowed to touch the specks of dust at his feet, the King……….

 

Nighahay bar mane Miskeen,Namud-e-az- chasme taaban-tar

Makanash La maaken tar bood,Shab Shahi……

With his divine grace (Anugraha) ,he showered his radiance

Immersed me in the universe of consciousness, the King……….

 

Manam Mardan Ali Khanam,Ghulam-e-Shahe-Shahanam

Ajab Israr Main Beenam,Shab Shahi…….

I Ali Mardan Khan who is the servant of the king of the kings

Is witness to a mystic experience, the King……….

Another version of the last verse is Manam Mardan Musalmanam,Ali Khanam Namee Dhanam,which means

 I Ali Mardan a devout Muslim , who owes every breath to Ali (the Caliph).

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This poem is also a reiteration of the Kashmiri Saivate standpoint of the world being real as against the Vedantic concept of it being Maya (unreal).That the poet’s vision is not of a formless deity but one that he describes in great detail with its physical attributes and iconography reinforces the Kashmiri Saiva thought of the creation being real when Unmesh (broadly translated as opening of eye/thought )happens.

Note:  I would welcome improvements in translation. Persian is not a language I am well versed with. I thank my friend Geetika, without her help this translation would not have been possible.

*Leela is a Kashmiri Devotional Poem.

Landscape of Loss

An Audio Documentary produced by three students of Mass Communication, Jamia Millia Islamia.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1xeuti29BvU

The Garden of Solitude-A Review by Rashneek Kher

http://greaterkashmir.com/news/2011/Feb/1/the-garden-of-solitude-9.asp

That it took twenty-one years for a Kashmiri Pandit to write the first account of the exodus is but a sad reflection on the scholarship of a community that prides itself for being the only one in the world to have hundred percent literacy rate. Among many other things that the community is slowly losing the most telling has been its scholarship or so I thought.
Siddhartha Gigoo’s , ‘The Garden of Solitude’ is a chip of the old block genre of literature. It may disappoint the reader for it does not have the magic realism of a Rushdie or the intricacies that one finds in Tarun Tejpal’s writings. Siddartha’s writing is as simple as the ones that we read as children in our text books, simple but loaded with meaning. The jargon is intentionally kept out as is the bitterness of being in exile. It is this lucidity of the novel that makes it stand out in the swamp of present day modern English literature.
Sridar, a rather uncommon name for a Kashmiri Pandit boy born in seventies, but name apart Siddartha’s protagonist could be anyone of us who was born in Kashmir during those times, when today’s Kashmir could simply have been dismissed as a bad dream. The Garden of Solitude is a docu-novel that recounts the beautiful times of peace in Kashmir, the onset of the armed insurgency, the forced exodus of Pandits and its aftermath. Sridar is not just an eyewitness like the Sanjaya of Bhagwad Gita but is himself a character, a sufferer in every sense of the word. As the novel progresses the author gets a firmer grip on the plot and its characters. His earlier accounts give the impression of being sketchy and a little lost in the maze of his memory. It recounts the days of his growing up in the neighborhood of the downtown Srinagar. At some length the author delves upon the complex relationships between Pandits and Muslims and how suspicion creeps into the fragile peace of these relationships once the call of Azaadi reverberates across the valley much to the chagrin of the Pandits.
Till then the novel is paced even. It is from here on that the lid on the crucible that had held together the different strains breaks free and the novel takes itself out of the cozy confines. It does not mince words and remains honest to the plot. Suddenly the ugly Kashmir (sic) reveals itself.T he contained entropy takes the shape of a hideous beast. The novel travels out and crosses the Jawahar Tunnel for the first time but only to return at a later date.
It records and documents the exodus of a community from what had been its home ever since one knew of history. When the novel takes us to the chaos of refugee camps & schools it speaks of the sordid condition and the inhuman existence in which the Pandits are forced to live. It talks of stink and hopelessness, of rot and dirt, of despair and existential and identity crisis but does not give its opinion. It does not wallow in self pity nor does it bring in the prejudice of a victim. The story is told as it is seen. The author’s protagonist merely mentions to us what he lives through.
Sridar is fortunate not to have lived in refugee camp for long but for all those who suffer them without a hope of freedom from them find voice in the extremely well sketched character of Pamposh, a reticent boy living in one of the many refugee camps in Jammu, who has no more than a cameo in the novel but one that leaves an indelible mark. Through Pamposh one feels the pain of exile and rootlessness but more than the apparent symptoms the putrefaction of the mind that such a state of being brings in with itself, where his grandfather wants to smell the urine of his own granddaughter.
Sridar has shades of Kafka in his character. The meaninglessness of life and existence occupies his mind and that makes him a wandering soul. To me the most beautiful part of the novel is Sridar’s travel to the picturesque Leh. It is here that the novel attains the meaning that it may not seek to find. Sridar meets the mysterious but truly mesmerizing Ameira-a woman without a past as she is described to Sridar. But then the shell crumbles, just a little and we discover a half Kashmiri girl who comes looking for a past eventually to settle in the anonymity of the oblivion. The silence between the two of them and the moment where Sridar’s trembling hands hold hers could easily have been the culmination of the novel.
Dreams and their meanings have a special significance in the novel and it is one such dream that brings Sridar back to the refugee camps that he had left behind. He searches for his friends and their stories but finds none. Time seems to have devoured them all. The world seems to have forgotten the Pandits. Sridar finds a purpose in his living-The book of ancestors!
The novel comes back to Kashmir. Sridar comes home but the occupants aren’t the same.The daughter of the new owners asks her mother who could this man be who speaks Kashmiri like them but isn’t one. The unusual homecoming smells of hope and underlines somehow the layers of complexity that’s inherent in relations between the two Kashmiri communities. He is welcome everywhere and people are cordial but that doesn’t take away the fact that he is seen as someone who has come from Delhi,a guest.
The book ends on a note of optimism or pessimism depending upon how we look at it. The Book of ancestors is published but released on a hot sultry day not in Kashmir but in Jammu where the exiles live. It begins to rain as soon the book launch finishes. The author leaves it open ended. Like everyone else he too isn’t sure if the Pandits will ever return to their Garden of the Solitude.