The Giver of the Worn Garland KRISHNADEVARAYA'S AMUKTAMALYADA

Home > Other > The Giver of the Worn Garland KRISHNADEVARAYA'S AMUKTAMALYADA > Page 8
The Giver of the Worn Garland KRISHNADEVARAYA'S AMUKTAMALYADA Page 8

by SRINIVAS REDDY


  And the Nārāyaṇa Upaniṣad describes God’s presence,

  which fills all beings both inside and out.

  The Aruṇa Section of the Chāndogya Upaniṣad

  states the same, and explains

  that every syllable and phrase in the world

  is contained within that one pure word nārāyaṇa.

  III.12

  Above all other famous Vedic sayings,

  ‘apahata-pāpmā divyodeva’ from the Subāla Upaniṣad

  establishes that there are no other gods,

  only the one Nārāyaṇa.

  III.13

  The Brahma Sūtras and Vedānta Śāstras explain that the soul, the earth, fire, wind, space, time and death, along with all the sentient and non-sentient realities in the entire universe are the bodies of Viṣṇu. Furthermore, the Vedas declare that all the bodies of the gods are contained in that one body of the endless Nārāyaṇa.

  For someone desiring mokṣa, no matter who they are, who else is there to worship but the Lotus-Eyed Nārāyaṇa? From time to time Viṣṇu takes the shape of Brahma, Śiva, Arjuna, Vyāsa, the Sun, Paraśurāma and others, but these forms are only invoked for the purpose of dharma, artha and kāma—they are not fit for those who seek mokṣa.

  Not only that, there is a permanent connection between God and our consciousness. The Upaniṣads clearly establish that He is mother, father, brother and home. He is protector, friend and destiny. Nārāyaṇa alone is everyone’s ultimate refuge.

  * * *

  CHAPTER IV

  IV.1

  Lord of the Bull Mountain

  you lure cows to pasture with your flute songs.

  With mighty Garuḍa on your flag

  you slew the vainglorious Naraka, son of the Earth

  and recovered the earrings of Aditi, mother of the gods!

  O Śrīnivāsa! Lakṣmi rests gently

  between your broad arms.

  IV.2

  Listen to what’s happening now …

  VIṢṆUCITTA’S VICTORY

  IV.3

  Forcefully, Viṣṇucitta split each knot and broke each string

  one by one, until one thread was left.

  He stood there for a moment, and then, suddenly,

  he snapped the last strand, and with a big bang

  the black bag of coins fell quickly to the ground.

  Celestial drums were beaten, and flowers rained down

  as the fanfare of the gods resounded through heaven.

  IV.4

  In that moment, right then and there,

  the king ordered that Viṣṇucitta be honoured with gifts.

  Crowds of servants rushed, from treasury to assembly hall

  carrying loads of glittering gems, gold jewellery and fine fabrics.

  But in their haste, the gifts slipped from their hands,

  leaving a trail of treasures piled up to their knees

  like a multi-coloured garland for the Goddess of the Earth.

  IV.5

  Viṣṇucitta had defeated the other debaters

  and won the king over with the truth revealed in the Vedas—the Truth of Viṣṇu.

  He immersed the king in the waters of devotion

  and convinced him to take refuge in God

  so that he may better serve the world.

  IV.6

  And when that great scholar had won the contest

  all of heaven was filled with praise—

  the gods used words of wonder, saints used highest praise

  departed souls spoke with reverence,

  and celestial musicians shouted—

  ‘He’s exposed the pride of those petty-minded scholars!’ and finally the demigods proclaimed-

  ‘This Age of Darkness has become a Golden Age!’

  IV.7–8

  Licking their lips in disgust, some stormed out in bare feet

  only to go searching for their sandal bearers.

  Others rushed passed their palanquins, waiting right before their eyes

  and turned back to scream at their carriers.

  Some were approached by their servants, who asked about their duties

  but the scholars paid no heed

  and answered ‘Yes, okay’ to everything.

  Many split up and scattered to the palace outskirts

  only to stand and wait for their fellow scholars to join them.

  Meeting at the crossroads, their eyes still set on the palace

  the scholars stood and spoke in secret—

  ‘What has become of this debate?’ they grumbled.

  ‘The king is lost, he’s partial to that slave!’

  ‘Yes, yes! It’s true!’ clamoured the others.

  ‘He’s distanced himself from discernment!’

  ‘Who could remain there in his presence!’ they shouted,

  and finally left for their homes.

  IV.9

  Then, for the fame and glory of the king

  Viṣṇucitta was asked to ascend the royal elephant.

  ‘Parade him through the city

  and escort him back to his home in Śrī Villiputtūr!’ ordered the king.

  And as soon as Viṣṇucitta mounted the great elephant,

  he was surrounded—

  lords on one side and princes on the other

  with elephants and horses all decorated with bells.

  As the royal procession made its way down the city lane

  the jingling anklets of city courtesans were drowned out

  by blaring trumpets and endless praise from minstrels.

  IV.10

  Like a cloth of double-weave,

  dyed with vermilion-red and vitriol-blue

  the sky suddenly turned to a light purple,

  reflecting his layered wings.

  The wind began to blow, fragrant

  with the smell of fresh cream from the Milky Ocean

  and a loud cry echoed throughout the atmosphere.

  Then Viṣṇucitta saw that great King of Birds,

  and on his back …

  IV.11

  The Lotus-Eyed God appeared in his form with four limbs,

  arms like the boughs of the Wish-Fulfilling Tree,

  strong hands carrying both conch and discus

  like a white-winged swan and a spiralling whirlwind of pollen.

  His divine lotus feet reddened the centre of Garuḍa’s wings

  golden-red, like the tips of snake-gourd flowers.

  His smooth black body was wrapped in garments of gold

  reflecting the play of colors, cast from his mount’s wings.

  His hanging pearl necklace was shining pure

  like the genuine wishes in the hearts of yogis,

  and his crocodile earrings fashioned from precious jewels

  were like Lakṣmi’s ocean playmates

  whispering secrets in his ear.

  IV.12

  All thirty-three million immortal gods

  stood in heaven to watch that muni Viṣṇucitta,

  but as soon as Lord Viṣṇu came into view,

  they quickly closed their open parasols.

  IV.13

  With wonder, a host of demons and ghosts came to see Lord Viṣṇu but as soon as they felt the rushing wind from the Snake-Eater’s wings they all fled in fear, flying away like pithless grains

  beaten on a threshing floor, scattered by a winnowing fan.

  IV.14

  The gods rained down an endless shower of safflowers

  filled with the buzz of big black bees, harmonizing

  and ever rising like the Sāman songs of Vedic praise.

  IV.15

  When the muni Viṣṇucitta saw the Lotus-Eyed God

  suspended in that space between heaven and earth

  his body was electrified and he burst into tears.

  And using the elephant bells like a cymbal beat

  he began his praise to that Greatest of Yogis …

  TH
E TEN DESCENTS

  IV.16

  Jaya jaya wielder of sword and wheel, of bow and mace

  summoned to split the demon race!

  Jaya jaya splendour of a thousand suns, and a million moons

  lustrous body black and hewn!

  Jaya jaya source of the Gaṅga’s flow, sprung from lotus feet below

  emerging pure with a pistil’s glow!

  Jaya jaya killer of the demon Keśi! King of Ka and Lord of Īśa!

  Jaya jaya Hari, in the line of Śūra

  whose eyes are like the autumn.

  IV.17

  Taking the form of a giant fish, You ripped the Vedas

  from the monster Somaka, dreaded demon of the gods!

  Breaking through the ocean waves, scattering

  white water in your wake, your scaly body glistened

  like a row of pure white letters, derived from the sacred mantras

  as you returned the hymns to Brahma in the Land of Truth.

  IV.18

  Murāntaka! You stirred the waters at the End of Time

  with your cavernous jaws and mountainous fins

  as You dove to seize the Vedic mantras!

  Sea monsters thrashed in the stormy waves

  and pounded against your massive body

  striking the deathly victory drum

  heard throughout the universe!

  IV.19

  Beyond the limits of the world You grew

  bigger and bigger, making giant Somaka

  look smaller and smaller.

  But you’re not a carnivore who eats little fish,

  the floodwaters of creation rushed into your mouth

  as You gently exhaled the Vedas!

  IV.20

  I worship You as the tortoise Kūrma, for You became a giant mill

  with Mandara spinning on your diamond shell

  grinding pearls, and gems, and oyster shells

  to make a plaster paste, and coat the muddy floating Earth

  dissolving in the churning flood.

  IV.21

  When You transformed into a giant boar,

  the waters of dissolution swelled through the heavens

  and cracked the Cosmic Egg, returning to Earth

  in an arch of water, like the golden nose ring

  that adorns Her, the infinite Source of Creation

  lying beyond the limits.

  IV.22

  As the ferocious Man-Lion, You used your hard white claws

  to rip open the chest of the evil Hiraṇyakaśipu!

  And in his fire-pit heart of pure clear blood,

  You saw your own reflection as an attacking enemy lion.

  With rage You plunged at the dense thick mane

  and gored out the entrails of that Demon Lord!

  IV.23

  At first your claws were a stark bright white,

  but when You split that demon’s chest,

  they became redder and redder

  and as You dug deeper and deeper, and deeper still

  his evil heart coloured them a deep dark black.

  It’s as if your power was reflecting the Trinity—white, red and black.

  What’s this illusion, are You lord or lion?

  IV.24

  The Demon King Bali made the universe his home

  and filled it up with darkness and fear

  as he ruled from high with a fiery glow.

  But You rose through the sky, your black body extending

  beyond the constellation called Crocodile,

  casting a vast shadow to extinguish that fire.

  IV.25

  O Paraśurāma, the Battle-Axe Wielder!

  The rain of tears from widowed queens sends your fame

  to the arrow-cleaved passage of Krauñca.

  Even today when the monsoon comes,

  flocks of swans migrate through that mountain pass,

  acting on instinct, following the flight of their ancestors.

  IV.26

  O Rāma! Lord of Rama in the Line of Raghu!

  With one swift arrow You easily felled seven sāla trees

  as if You were practicing for that fateful day

  when you’d cut through the seven organs of Rāvaṇa,

  slashed, with one swift swing of your thunderbolt.

  IV.27

  The barrage of arrows launched from your divine bow,

  so dense that it gives shade to your tired steeds,

  purifies the skies above Laṅka!

  Twang! goes the bowstring with the speed of hurricane winds

  retarding Your war chariot driven by Mātali.

  Ttsssss! go fire-tipped missiles, extinguished in the bloodbath

  flowing from Rāvaṇa’s flesh-eating demons.

  Tatt! Tatt! go the arrows as they hit armoured warriors,

  piercing through their hearts and lodging into stones.

  Even Śeṣa, the Lord of Serpents, lets out a sigh,

  for his hoods are burdened, bent by the weight

  of decapitated demons!

  IV.28

  O Balarāma! Plough-Bearer!

  Why did You dig by the banks of the Yamuna?

  You tilled and tilled with no self-control, your body pale

  from pining, as you searched the Earth and screamed,

  ‘Where are you my Sīta? Risen and sunken, dust to dust!’

  IV.29

  Hero of the Yadu Clan!

  For seven long nights You held up Govardhana

  protecting the cowherds and cattle from rain.

  Down the mountain the waters streamed

  like a thousand clear sheets of moonlight,

  reflecting your image in armoured splendour

  as the people sang your protective prayer!

  IV.30

  O Nārāyaṇa! Young Manmatha used his pentad of arrows

  on groups of demon women, but You slew their husbands

  with one swift shot! Why did You move so fast?

  Ah, yes, your intentions are Known!

  You made it impossible for anyone to penetrate

  the women’s armour of chastity.

  IV.31

  I worship You Kalki, the Great Master Horse Rider,

  making your steed move in all the Five Gaits,

  training him to trample the Five Dreadful Sins!

  In your hands twin daggers, twirling, deflecting

  the volley of arrows from barbarian attacks

  that spark off links for a suit of armour.

  * * *

  IV.32

  After being praised in this way, Lord Viṣṇu

  turned to Viśvakarma, the divine carpenter, and said—

  ‘Look, this ultimate yogi Viṣṇucitta will soon be a pauper. The Pāṇḍya king presented him with so much wealth but he wants to donate it all to my temples and worshippers. What a pity! Go to his village. Build him a fine home and decorate it with gems.’

  IV.33

  And Viśvakarma the architect did just that.

  Afterwards, the Lotus-Eyed God

  blessed Viṣṇucitta

  and disappeared out of sight.

  And as soon as the citizens of Madhura

  began to praise that great ṛṣi,

  he immediately set out for Śrī Villiputtūr.

  * * *

  CHAPTER V

  V.1

  You are the bumblebee that plays in the lotus hearts of

  Lakṣmi, Nīḷa and Jāmbavati.

  Your body reflects the shimmering blackness

  of the Yamuna flowing from Mount Kaḷinda.

  O Yellow-Eyed Lion roaming the Hills of Śeṣa

  Your image divine is formed of myriad bodies!

  V.2

  Listen to what’s happening with Viṣṇucitta …

  GODA

  V.3

  One day in a mango grove, in the middle of a thicket

  filled with tender leaves and fresh new flowers

  a couple made a bed of
love. And all was well.

  She was above him, breathing hard

  but tired easily and laid back down,

  the sweat making mango leaves stick to her back

  as if Love was announcing his victory.

  V.4

  There, near a wide garden path

  beyond a clearing decorated with muggulu

  that sparkled like emeralds in the shade of green trees,

  next to a pond filled with white water lilies

  by the edge of a holy tulasi grove—

  He saw a baby girl, the Auspicious One,

  her little feet, and hands and lips, shining like tiny rubies.

  V.5

  Astonished, he slowly approached the baby girl

  and examined her delicate body,

  glowing with every mark of beauty.

  And as he gazed for a while upon her divine radiance,

  he suddenly noticed that she never blinked!

  Viṣṇucitta rejoiced—

  ‘O Mukunda!’ he thought to himself,

  ‘You yourself have blessed this childless man

  with a beautiful baby daughter.’

  V.6

  He gently picked her up and brought her home

  to his pious wife, who swelled with happiness

  at becoming a mother.

  She lovingly fed her with breast milk

  and tenderly raised her with joy, and gradually

  gradually, Goda grew up.

  * * *

  GODA’S BEAUTY

  V.7

  As her beauty matured

  she watched the world with half-open eyes.

  She grew quiet, reserved, her eyebrows darkened

  and she frowned at playing with childish dolls.

  The palms of her hands and the soles of her feet

  turned beautifully pink, and her hair grew long and curly.

  Her waist became thin and her breasts grew full,

  pushing away her childhood.

  And though the others didn’t notice these changes,

  she grew aware of her body.

  And in this way, day by day, her childhood slipped away.

  V.8

  Her body had a golden glow,

  her lips were a bright bright red

  and her face was clear as the moon,

  but she wasn’t known by those colours,

  she wasn’t called by those names.

  Her dark and lustrous hair, thick and heavy

  surpassed the beauty of big black bees

  and She was called Śyāma, the Dark One,

  a radiant woman, beautiful and young.

 

‹ Prev