Harishchandra (4)

4. Journey to Kashi

"You are cruel, God!" weeping people cried

to see their king begin his southward march

with just a staff to ward all dangers off

for they with simple, honest minds could not

fathom divine workings on human life;

for them this was a thoughtless instance of

His indifference on human destiny.

"You are cruel, God!" says man when he feels

a pang of misfortune that comes his way

and judges God like does a growing child—

whose lack of ripeness and his fancies wild

together with a confidence that gives

the strength to uphold that which he believes—

his parents; but then such accusation,

a mixture of impatience and sorrow,

falls flat to the ground against divine will.

Knowing full well this truth, Harishchandra

accused no one, but praised the Lord that he

received a lovely chance for charity.

So, thankful to the Lord he trod along

the road that led the three further away

from rich palace, capital, kingdom, home,

to distant lands, through villages and towns.

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 erected 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."

"Alas ! Good friends !" the pauper king, he cried,

on hearing such expectations from one

who was in no position now to give.

" Alas the day when I have not a thread

to give as charity to those who need.

I, Harishchandra, humbly ask of you

not to take offence at long travel's end

at one who has offered up all he had

to sage Vishwamitra. Friends, I travel

in the company of my wife and son

to distant lands where I must earn my bread.

We go to Kashi. Go, you two, ahead

and seek the sage, for he is kind and wise.

He will listen with compassion, provide

for you and grant you what you sorely need."

So saying he blessed their journey, took leave,

and started once again the long, long trek.

It certainly was a long, hard journey

for those who walked only among flowers,

on green, grassy lawns and carpeted halls;

yet their slow and steady progress, though hard

and physically demanding, brought them close

to the bright city of lights, Kashi called,

vast, fertile land of holy greenery.

'Twas here the newly wedded Mahadev

brought home his bride Parvati, for he thought

there was no better spot on earth beside

Kailash, his permanent residence,

so that Vishwanatha, phallus divine,

has found worship at the holy centre

that radiates to temples ten miles thence.

Sweetly flows the Ganges, fed by Asi

and Varuna, two rivers that here flank

a pilgrimmage, one of seven gateways

to salvation, now Varanasi called,

where the agèd and the wise, having left

domestic and worldly charges behind,

having raised children, done their social works,

next seek a spiritual salvation

even as they await their sure demise.

'Twas here Harishchandra with wife and son

came with great hopes of finding bread and home;

for they had received food and other aids

to travel from kind fellow pilgrims who

sought company to pass the distance long;

these too had found in wise Harishchandra

a learnèd man of great experience.

And now to Kashi they arrived with heart

joyous at having accomplished the march,

but miserable too, for they knew not

where to go or whom to seek for support.

Descending to the banks of Ganges fair,

they cleansed the dirt of travel and their sins

with holy ablution, and then they walked

towards the clustered habitation dense

surrounded by a landscape so immense

and unmolested that the human soul

could not forget that it was part of whole.

Yet in the sinuous lanes that tunnelled,

funnelled or opened out to wide bazaars,

they lost themselves although it mattered not

for they did not have a place to go.

Cows, bulls, calfs and buffaloes wandered free,

secure in that they had a shed to go;

hostile dogs barked at the small family

huddled in the shade of a small abode.

'Twas now the moment to act with wisdom.

Turning to his wife, Harishchandra spoke:

"Shaibya dear ! Our darker days have come.

We now have to part with each other too

for no one needs three servants in their house.

Rohitashwa is too young to be left

alone to his evil fate. Therefore, he

must remain with you wherever you go

and feel your love shine bright upon his night.

I will find some work, whatever it be,

but you shall work for a good family

until we both have earned enough to pay

the sage's dues. Let us seek work to do."

The queen was ready to work, not to part

from her belovèd husband dear to her;

so deeply did she feel this heavy blow

upon her heart that there she swooned away

and fell upon the ground. Rohitashwa cried.

Onlookers saw the fall and kindly ones

approached to understand the malady

but saw sad tears come tumbling down the eyes

of Harishchandra, brave man who now cried.

First they tended to Shaibya on the ground,

sprinkled water on her face and gave to sip

and when she sat up dizzy still with pang,

one asked, "What ails you, Sir? Your wife is sick

it seems, or has exhaustion o'ertaken

pilgrims from a distant land? Bless you ! Speak !"

"We are poor travellers come to Kashi bright

with brighter hopes of finding work to do.

And now we're here, I from my darling wife

must part, this parting almost takes our life.

My wife and child, kind Sir, will both serve you

while I another who will hire me.

We have nothing with us but what we wear,

yet must live through the darkest days of life.

Be kind, O holy dwellers of this town,

procure our service, let us serve you here."

To one who had throughout his life given

alms and charity to seekers it was

natural to expect that the world

would be just as charitable as he;

but no, the selfish ones abound like fish

and multiply as fast in this wide world,

and man is quicker to receive than give.

"I have a servant at home and don't need

another one to serve me," said this man.

This was the general answer given

by everyone whom he approached and none

would hire him or Shaibya; yet he called

to everyone passing by. Darker grew

the day and hopes of finding employment.

But then as if by destiny dispatched

a brahmin man came walking slowly by

when the darkling street was quite deserted

and the moon was already in the sky.

He seemed less to see than to hear a plea

that dropped from an able man hopelessly;

he stopped, he peered, then took a step ahead,

but turned around and peered again at one

who was indeed a queen of loveliness.

"Can you work?" he asked. "Cook, clean, sweep and wash?

And fetch and carry water from the well?

Maintain the garden? Bring the firewood?

And after the chores, feed the cattle too?

If so," said he, "follow me or else stay."

"I will do all that and more, kind Sir !"

replied Shaibya. "I have a son who will

stay with me too and help me do the work."

"One more mouth to feed," complained the brahmin.

"Will he do everything he can to help

and not just loiter and pass useless time?"

"I will," replied the boy and so they left.

And in the gloom sad Harishchandra felt

a prick of thousand thorns in tender heart

that throbbed madly inside his chest. His brow

upon his palm, his other hand on chest,

he stood and watched the night and unknown street

swallow wife and son, while his own future

was yet uncertain. Doors and windows closed

the cold outside and life went on inside

as if the whole humanity at large

remained secure from hunger, thirst and cold.

For who can know the pains he has not had?

For who in warm hearths ever feels the cold?

For who with meals two times a day can know

the vice-like grip of hunger in the guts

of those that seek to find an honest job

but go without both job and food for days?

Having nowhere to go he stood confused,

wondering how and where to pass the night;

sometimes he counted stars, at times he thought

to simply knock upon a door, a heart,

to test what human virtue would impart.

As night grew young, a tall and bearded man,

unkempt and coarse, with a thick staff in hand,

came walking out of darkness of the night

like a dreadful shade from another realm.

He was a chandala, most despised mix

of brahmin mother and sudra father,

a mere bedside product of loathsome lust

cast down the rungs of social hierarchy

right to the bottom bog whence never he

could rise to levels of humanity.

Yet he, a chandala, seeing a man

sitting with his back against the cold wall

this late at night, inquired of his fate,

and, learning it, quick replied, "If you please,

I'll hire you, for you look strong and brave,

to burn dead bodies at the holy ghat

by night so that I may rest. I will too

demand daylight service for board and food."

"God be thanked ! Good man ! For whatever work

it is, it still is work, for I must work

to raise the dues and make a livelihood.

So I will serve you willingly, give you

such satisfaction by my labour that

you'll not regret what you have done for me."

So saying, overjoyed with prospect new,

picking up his staff, Harishchandra stood

ready to serve his master all for good.