I am the dutiful, beautiful wife of Rania,
my story is toe best observance of dharama
not withstanding the harsh tests of life and time.
There are anticipations and obligations that I cannot
renounce. There is a pyramid of liabilities for me,
that I must achieve with self-mastery, ceasing
to be passion's slave. I am the wife of the
ideal man, the impeccable, unblemished human. For father's
honour, you left your privilege to Kosala's
throne, vowed to serve an exile of fourteen years
in forest alone! With foreboding
gratefully acknowledged, I knew instantaneously the
meaning of wifehood. With my veiled acquisitiveness
coming into the vulnerable, I was only running
a self-surpassing contest en route for annihilation.
In God's garden of consciousness, I, and
Laxman orchestrated our symphonies
and went on to the forest with you. Oh Rama,
please tell me, what was the blunder of the shy Urmila?
Her defying comprehension, faith, courage and
holiness left her alone to dry-up petal by petal, without her husband,
for long fourteen years, more than one yug! Where did your
unending compassion to values and duty
vanish in this agenda of pain for her?
In your Rama Rajya, in the rules of
Happiness, peace, prosperity and justice for
all, what is this disclosure to the performance
of unremitting heart-throbbing, where does
she stand? In your endless regiment
of abundant love for all, what was essayed for her?
My Lord! Still your praises remove
the contaminations of the Kaliyuga, soothe the
soul, you are the home of peace and prosperity.
Severe is the encumbrance of immorality in the
kaliyuga, nor faith, neither wisdom,
nor contemplation, neither atonement console me.
I am perceptive because I abandon all faith
except Rama-Nama, Hari-Nama. You
are faith. My faith. Oh human! Faith
is the only fruit to boost your lifeblood.
Wherever Raghupati passes in your
soul being the 'faith', mists make
a shadow in the heaven. Let faith
put up with the moon in your night sky.
Because that is the regulator of all passion,
disputes and pain, the conqueror
of death, the enchantment of the corporation called heaven,
the source of compassion,
at once impersonal and personified, like
and unlike, gifted with a form yet
formless, surpassing all understanding,
speech and perception; untainted, impeccable,
illimitable faith is Rama-Nama. Adore
Him, surrender to Him. He is the cure to all urge,
cupidity, immodesty, desire; He is the
channel to cross the deep-sea of life.
He is the ménage of power, the curer
of all haze, the patron of magic,
the congregation of rectitude, honesty.
I adore Him. I am the woman in love.
Yes, I was the woman in love, the imminent queen of
Ayodhya, getting down from the palanquin.
We met on our way to Ayodhya the
wife of Sage Gautama, Ahalya. She was
incontestably effervescent, and her voice
an authority of charm. She narrated the
tale of Indra's lust for her. And the
myths of Sati Anasuya, Rishi Atri's wife,
and Sati Savitri, who saved Satyavana's life.
Me, Vaidehi, the new woman, would ask you
oh Lord! Can the grace of a woman redeem
only with the touch of .a man? And can
the grace of woman wane only with
the fraudulent touch of a man? The
human psyche is designed to move ahead
and reach superior pinnacles with time.
What would you explain of rocked-Ahalya who lost her
purity and then her human form and invocation?
I can see, woman, no more you are the
holiness and the power - epithet
of dignity, potency, magnificence, compassion,
love, splendor. You aren't adored
like Maheswari or Saraswati. Wake up to
the call of Nirbhaya, let them call it blasphemy.
You are the tarnished, deflated doll, t
he consumerist piece to be obtained, battered
bartered, sold, wronged, cast away.
Can you be the harbinger of a time
when Nirbhaya would be adept to stand firm
despite a thousand scars on her body and soul?
Can you be the harbinger of a time
When no Kaikeyis would scheme a sketch
to cast away Rama and Sita to crown
their boosting egos? Can lightning
and thunder stop splitting you apart
as creatures weak, callous and concomitant ?
I received a hearty welcome in the heart
of my Lord Rama and in Ayodhya.
King Dasharatha was like the highest light.
His three queens Kaushalya, Kaikeyi and
Sumitra, our blissful mothers now,
were like deeper poise in our spirits by alchemic power.
Accompanying Rama in his expedition of the city
I felt like a voice for the voiceless.
I was your surefire strength, innermost brainwave .
You saw in me your internal self, your intuition
'Jai Siya-Ram' was the melody of the masses
I was your soul-mate, peace and paragon.
King Dasharatha sought discharge from the
cares of the crown, the common man's yank
of optimism and assumption saw Rama and Sita
as the herald of a golden age, the
Rama-Rajya of peace and glory.
But the hunchback ,crooked, scheming Manthara, queen
Kaikeyi's confidante and attendant, cooked
our future. Bharata, the son of
Kaikeyi, should be the future king, and not
Rama, queen Kaushalya's son. Rama has
to go for exile into the woods for fourteen years!
Meticulously stimulated and spewing out billows
of lethal melanoma, she convinced
her mistress. Kaikeyi sulked, raved, raged,
retiring into her Chamber of Protest.
King Dasharatha had promised her two boons
years back for saving his life
by serving him. The boons were settled.
We were exiled. No my Lord! No one
Exiled me, your Sita. I have been
the audacious, adamant, self -willed, self-motivated
woman, forever. I joined you, because
that was my dharma, my duties to my
husband. Lakshmana, your doting brother,
and Sita, your devoted soul-mate wife
redeemed your father's words thus
demanding the moral order.
You and me, side by side, left
the coronation, took the path to paradise;
I swore, I'll carve up all, endure all, still smile.
We talk of feminine-frailty in accepted
hypothesis. Do we remember the courage
and conviction of Savitri g Sita, Gargi,
Maitreyi, Apala Ghosha, Visvavar
Mother Teresa a, Helen Keller, Florence Nightingale
and Malala? It was no discounted g d adolescent
Passion, nor feminine stubbornness. True, I was
used to the placates of life in a generous manor.
Woman knows when to spare the securities
of home and take up weathered severity.
Her sole religion is to render service to
nature and man and give solace and comfort.
We gave away our wealth and belongings
to the creditable, poor and needy.
And left for the woods in the midst
of burning, irrepressible grief
of Dasharatha, your three mothers, two
brothers, our friends, kith and kin, our companions.
Father Dasharatha died heart-broken
after our departure. Bereaved Bharata
came with Shatrughna and people of
Ayodhya to our cottage in Chitrakuta
rejecting the crown, forswearing his mother
and banishing himself with us. Elder
brother directed him to take his vows
back. Went back Bharata with the
dharma of his father and sacred sandals
of Rama, to place those on the throne
and rule Ayodhya as brother's ambassador.
True, our notions of justice are prejudiced.
True, dharma surpasses all metamorphosis .
Dharma redeems us all. Breaking the quietude of trepidation
and assumptions wood-ward we moved.
IV
मैं हूँ राम की कर्तव्यपरायण, सुंदर पत्नी
मेरा जीवन, धर्म की सबसे अच्छी कहानी
अनेक यतनाएँ झेलने के बाद भी,सुनो मेरे मुंह-जबानी।
अनेक प्रत्याशाओं-दायित्वों का करना मुझे परिवहन
मेरे कंधों पर उत्तरदायित्त्वों का बोझ, करना होगा निपुणता से निर्वहन, बिना गला घोंटे उन्मुक्त-मन ।
मैं निर्दोष,आदर्श, निष्कलंक आदमी की धर्म-पत्नी
पिता के वचनों के खातिर, छोड़ा जिसने कोसल-राज्य-सिंहासन
और शपथ खाई भोगने को अकेले चौदह साल निर्वासन !
पूर्वाभास भाँपकर कृतज्ञता से किया मैंने स्वीकार
उसी समय पता चला मुझे पत्नी होने का अर्थ
और पहना मैंने पतिव्रता का हार ।
मेरे भाग्य पर गहराया विकट संकट,
भागने लगी मैं पथ, भरे जिसमें केवल कंटक
आत्म-क्रीडारत, ईश-चेतना के उपवन ।
मैं और लक्ष्मण गए तुम्हारे साथ वन
पर क्या झंझावात उठ रहे होंगे उर्मिला के मन ?
क्यों भुगतेगी वह, पति के बिना अकेलापन ?
लंबे चौदह वर्षों की दीर्घ अवधि, कहाँ चले गए तुम्हारे मूल्य-कर्तव्य
दर्द-करुणा का नहीं कोई नाम, तुम्हारे इस राम-राज्य, हे राम !
ध्वस्त हो गए खुशी, शांति, समृद्धि और न्याय के सारे नियम ?
उर्मिला की वेदना देख, क्यों नहीं धड़का तुम्हारा हृदय ?
तुम्हारे राम-राज्य का अंतहीन प्रेम-प्राचुर्य
नहीं मिटा सका उसके हृदय की पीर ?
मेरे प्रभु! फिर भी तुम्हारी आराधना से होता है दूर
कलियुग का प्रदूषण
शांत होती है आत्मा, तुम हो शांति और समृद्धि के घर ।
अनैतिकता का कलियुग में अतिक्रमण
न विश्वास, न ज्ञान,
न चिंतन, न ही प्रायश्चित मन ।
मैं आश्वस्त हूँ कि मैं हूँ बोधगम्य
सारे विश्वासों का कर दिया मैंने परित्याग
राम-नाम, हरि-नाम के सिवाय ।
हे राम! तुम हो मेरी आस्था, मेरे जीवन का आधार
रघुपति की आस्था खोलती मेरे आत्मा का द्वार
स्वर्ग में करती कुहुरीली छाया का चमत्कार ।
हे राम! अमावस्या में चाँद की तरह मैं अटूट अभय
सभी भावों के तुम नियामक, मृत्योर्मा अमृतम् गमय
तुम हो करुणा का स्रोत अदम्य ।
अवैयक्तिक और वैयक्तिक, और इसके विपरीत,
साकार होते हुए भी निराकार,
सभी की समझ से परे है तुम्हारी रीत ।
संभाषण और धारणा; निखून, निर्दोष, असीम विश्वास
राम-नाम का प्रेम-प्रकाश,
चमकता उसी समर्पण के साथ मेरे आकाश ।
तर्क,अंतर्द्वंद्व,कामना,वासना का भव-सागर
तुम्हारे सहारे जीवन-नौका करती पार
मिटाकर जीवन का घनघोर अंधकार ।
तुम चमत्कारों के संरक्षक,ईमानदारी के पक्षधर
मैं तुम्हारी प्रशंसक इस धरा पर
करती हूँ मैं तुम्हें दिल से प्यार ।
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