Journey to Kashi (Poem)

Extract from: Harishchandra, "4. Journey to Kashi"

Padma Devkota

The autumn sun that fell behind the trees
glowed like an ember, splintered into rays
that shot not towards the earth but away
and far into a mellow sky that turned
red like the tearful eyes of a lover
lost to hopes of any reunion.
The further they went, darker grew the town
they left behind in the evening gloam,
fawns on their haunches sat and brooded long
as they chewed the remaining grass which they
dangled from their mouth, sparrows did not sport,
canaries were silent in their cages
and smoke did not rise from roofs, not this night !
The golden ocean of rich paddy field
stirred by a cooling vesper wind surged up
with hopes of winning Harishchandra's heart
and subsided to saddest dejection,
then seemed to wave and call the travellers
back to where their sorry journey begun.
The forest darkened, darkened fields and plains,
the road-side river mumbled, grumbled on,
sharp grit and pebbles bit into the sole
of their soft feet as if to slow their march
if not to stop them from their dark exile.

Yet on they trod on weary legs as night
soon met them in the wilderness alone.
Although the argent moon with fullness shrunk
by a quarter perhaps still illumined
their coiling path, although the stars too shone
with brilliance in the vast nocturnal sky,
they stumbled, staggered, struggled, slipped and strode
with hopes to find a human dwelling near
where they could share the comfort of a porch.
But there were no huts or cottages near,
no village or hermit's abode, just vast
wilderness where roamed hungry, stealthy cats
and tigers that sought the sorry prey.
There was but little else to do but walk
against the squeaking flesh and melting bone,
so they plodded on until they arrived
at a road-side shelter errected by
a thoughtful merchant for the pilgrim's rest
by day a cooling spot, by night a nest.

There, thanking God, three tired travellers
found a dark, warm corner wherein to rest.
'Twas one small room, a ten by eight perhaps,
and another couple lay huddled where
the wind was less likely to wander free.
Without disturbing those who slumbered there
these lay upon the cold but safer floor,
nor wanted more for weary flesh was quick
to welcome healthy sleep, a blessing great;
but when early birds chirrupped in their nests,
when like a sleepless lover's eyes the sun
rose red through trees over the vast plain
that breathed a thick layer of vapour white,
the travellers were already up and out.
Harishchandra, having bathed himself
at the water-spout of well-carvèd rock,
said his morning prayers with folded palms,
sighted Adhitya through netted fingers
and wished joy and peace to all the world.
He then addressed his fellow sojourners
at the shelter and inquired of them
their source, their destination and their name.

"We come from distant northern hills that rise
like devoted aspirants that look up
to the highest snowy peak that supports
the whole blue dome like a central pillar
of exquisitely variegated earth.
Long have we travelled, covered distance great
and are thankful that we have almost reached
Ayodhya's gate, where Harishchandra rules.
Truthful king of generous soul, kind heart,
whose immense fame has travelled all the way
e'en to us, draws us now to him. We go
to seek his charity and find a home
in his industrious country where we
intend to make a living better than
at home where we were living less than man."