Rabindranath Tagore - दीनो दान
महान रचनाकार 'गुरुदेव' रबींद्रनाथ टैगोर का 7 अगस्त 1941 को अवसान
हुआ था। महाकाव्य गीतांजलि के लिए टैगोर को साहित्य का नोबेल दिया
गया था। यहाँ प्रस्तुत कविता 'दीनो दान' 120 वर्ष पहले लिखी गई है मगर
यह आज के परिवेश में भी प्रासंगिक बनी हुई है। आज रबींद्रनाथ टैगोर की
पुण्यतिथि पर पूरा देश उन्हें इस रचना के जरिए याद कर रहा है।
Tagore's original date mark on this poem is 20th of Shravan, 1307, which happened to fall on August 5th of this year. On 5th August 2020, there was a grand show of by the Trust of Ram Mandir at Ayodhya. The Prime Minister was invited. The live telecast of the gala event was witnessed by billions of people over electronic media. The Live Streamed on social media was also greeted with warm emotions by devotees of Lord Ram.
While the people involved in the act tries to narrate the event with their version of truth, the truth which is loved by the majority of the day, the truth which seems to be so sweety sweerty and goody goody that all love to talk about it with ornamental language.
Well, the same event which is so loved by the majority of the people (of the day) may not be seen exactly in same light by literary imagination. The mind's eye of the true littérateur imagines the same event is quite an opposite way.
Rabindranath Tagore was one such creative genius. It is an ironical coincidence that Tagore's poem is said to be written on 5th August. This date may be debated as it was marked with Bengali date but his death anniversary fall just on the second day of the euphoria of the Ram Temper Foundation Stone Ceremony, i.e. 7th August.
It is but obvious that people will read Tagore on his death anniversary and may be surprised to see this poem written by him. The poem is so relevant as well as so succinctly reminds us of the way we should have been behaving in the times of nationalistic religiosity in the times of Corona Pandemic #Covid19.
Here is the Hindi translation of the Bengali Poem. Below it is the English version of the poem.
“उस मंदिर में कोई प्रभु नहीं हैं”, कहा सन्त ने।
राजा क्रुद्ध हो गया;
“कोई प्रभु नहीं? हे सन्त! क्या तुम
किसी नास्तिक जैसे नहीं बात कर रहे?
अनमोल रत्नजरित सिंहासन पर,
स्वर्णिम मूर्ति चमक रही है,
फिर भी तुम कहते वह यहाँ नहीं है?”
“खाली नहीं यह मंदिर, इसमे भरा पड़ा है
राजसी दंभ।
तुमने अपना ही मान बढ़ाया है, हे राजा!
संसार के स्वामी का नहीं”,
यूं कहा सन्त ने।
झुंझलाया था फिर राजा, “बीस लाख सिक्के सोने के
बरसाए हमने उस महान कृति पर गगनचुंबी है जो,
और देवताओं को किया समर्पित
सब आवश्यक अनुष्ठानों के बाद,
और तुम्हारी यह धृष्टता कि कहो
नहीं इस विराट मंदिर में भगवान”?
शांति से बोला संत, “उसी साल जब,
दो करोड़ तुम्हारी प्रजा
पीड़ित थी भयंकर सूखे से;
रोटी और छत विहीन विपन्न लोग!
आए तुम्हारे दर पर मांगने सहारा,
मिली बस दुत्कार,
बाध्य हुए वह ढूँढने को आसरा,
जंगलों, कन्दराओं में, पथ-किनारे वृक्षों के नीचे
और खंडहहर पुराने मंदिरों में;
और फिर उसी साल
जब तुमने बीस लाख स्वर्ण मुद्राएं खर्च कर
बनाया अपना यह मंदिर आलीशान,
वही था वह दिन जब भगवान ने कहा:
“मेरा घर तो जगमगाता है
सदा प्रज्ज्वलित दीपों से,
नीले गगन के बीच,
मेरे घर की बुनियादें बनीं हैं मूल्यों से:
सच, शांति, करुणा और प्रेम के।
वह राजा, निर्धन निर्बल कृपण,
अपनी ही प्रजा को जो दे न सका
आश्रय,
क्या वह सच में आशा रखता है
मेरा घर बना सकने की?”
यही वह दिन था
जब त्याग दिया प्रभु ने तुम्हारा वह मंदिर।
और जा मिले पथ किनारे कंगालों से,
पेड़ों के नीचे।
विशाल समुद्र के झाग की रिक्तता की तरह,
तुम्हारा मंदिर भी खाली है।
धन और दंभ मात्र का यह बुलबुला है।
गरजा था फिर राजा,
“अरे धोखेबाज बेवकूफ इंसान,
निकल जा मेरे राज्य से अभी”।
सन्त बोला शांति से,
“वही जगह जहां तुमने किया है निर्वासित भगवान को,
वहीं भेज दो भक्त को भी”।
(अनुवादक: गौरव)
A 120-year-old Bengali poem written by Rabindranath Tegore: Translation in English
“There is no god in that temple”, said the Saint.
The King was enraged;
“No God? Oh Saint, aren’t you speaking like an atheist?
On that throne studded with priceless gems, beams the golden idol,
And yet, you proclaim that it is empty?”
“It is not empty; rather, it is full of royal pride.
You have bestowed yourself, oh King, not the God of this world”,
Remarked the saint.
The King frowned, “2 million golden coins
were showered on that grand structure that kisses the sky,
I offered it to the Gods after performing all the necessary rituals,
And you dare claim that in such a grand temple,
There is no presence of God”?
The Saint calmly replied
“In the very year in which twenty million of your subjects were struck by a terrible drought;
The desperate masses without any food or shelter,
came begging at your door crying for help, only to be turned away,
they were forced to take refuge in forests, caves, camping under roadside foliages, derelict old temples;
and in that very year,
when you spent 2 million gold coins to build that grand temple of yours,
that was the day when God pronounced:
‘My eternal home is lit by everlasting lamps,
in the midst of an azure sky.
In my home the foundations are built with the values
of Truth, Peace, Compassion and Love.
This poverty-stricken puny miser,
Who could not provide shelter to his own homeless subjects,
Does he really fancy he can give Me a home?’
That is the day God left that Temple of yours.
And joined the poor beside the roads, under the trees.
Like the emptiness of the froth in the vast seas,
Your mundane temple is hollow.
It is just a bubble of wealth and pride.”
The enraged King howled,
“oh you sham cretin of a person,
Leave my kingdom this instant”.
The Saint replied calmly,
“To the very place to which you have exiled the Divine,
Banish now the devout too”.
- Rabindranath Tagore,
20th of Shravan, 1307 (as per Bengali Calendar)
A better version of translation is here
[From Deen Daan]
by Rabindranath Tagore
Thus offered the royal servant-
“Your Highness, despite much pleading
Narottama, the greatest of the Sadhus,
Shunning the opulent shelter of your golden temple
Is engaged upon the sacred devotions of sankirtana
Under the shade of a tree by the roadside.
Scores of devotees swarm the holy man
Tears of uncontrollable bliss overflow their
Down-turned faces, and cleanse the earth with
Waves of piety.Your temple stands near-empty;
As the honeybee, driven wild by the first wafting
Of the perfume from the lotus grove, instantly rejects
The gilded pot of honey and flies briskly over to
Where the lotuses have blossomed in profusion, eager
To quench his thirst, likewise, the great multitudes,
(Caringnot for the glittering temple) run from
Far and wide to there, where down by the edge
Of the street, from the lotus blossom of the
Devotee’s heart, there emanates the fragrance of Heaven.
Upon the jewel-studded throne- the lonesome Deity
Suffers silently in ultimate rejection.”
Hearing this, and understandably vexed, the monarch
Stepped off the royal throne, and with due haste
Rushed to where under the shade below the bough
Sat the sadhu upon his grassy seat. Offeringpranam
At his feet, he spoke thus. “Behold, Father, yonder
Royal temple with the golden dome- its crest
Piercing the sky itself! Why, pray, would you
Reject such grandeur, and offer praises to the divine
Here by the dusty street?”
“The divine resides not inside that vacuous temple,”
The sadhu responded. “Resides not?” retorted
The sovereign in fury. “O Sannyasi- you blaspheme
Like an atheist! Radiant upon a jewel-encrusted throne
Sits in glory the luminous icon of divinity. You call
That empty and vacuous?”
“Not empty, Your Highness, it is full only of Royal
Arrogance. Within that hall of glamor, it is yourself
You have installed, not the benevolent devata.”
With knotted brow, the irate sovereign then spoke thus.
“With the princely sum of two million pieces of gold
Have I created this unblemished temple which
Rises past the clouds, and through the chanting of
Potent puja mantras consecrated to the sacred divinity-
And you tell me that the devatahas not a place within
This temple of glory?”
With an unruffled voice, the sadhu responded-
“That year when a raging wildfire consumed their
Homes and impoverished twenty thousand of your
Subjects- homeless, penniless and desperately hungry,
They stood at your palace door, begging for relief from
Your royal hands. Their collective pleas fell upon deaf
Ears, and without hope, they retreated to the deepest
Forests, into caverns, under the shades of trees by
Street-sides, the courtyards of abandoned old temples
Split asunder by overgrown invading wildasath. That very
Same year,spending your two million pieces of gold
Your Highness created your temple of gold
And consecrated to the divine. That day Bhagwan,
The Compassionate One, spoke thus. “My timeless
Home spread across the limitless Universe is strewn
With countless luminous points of light dispersed
Beyond the endless blue of the sky. That refuge of
Mine is founded ever upon the four pillars of Truth,
Peace, Compassion and Love. The lowly, impoverished
Miser who cannot provide even shelter and safety to his
Own homeless subjects- he dare offer me a home!”
That instant the Compassionate One departed to where
Under the shades of trees languished the impoverished.
The refuge-giver joined his flock, the refugees. Empty
As the bloated foam riding the vast seas- likewise is
Your vaunted temple empty under the vast skies-
Nothing but bubbles of gold and vanity.”
Lighting up like a conflagration, the monarch thundered,
“Bogus lowlife charlatan, leave my kingdom forthwith-
Make haste and begone!”
His voice calm and resolute, the sannyasi replied-
“Where you expelled, my dear King, the beloved of the
Devotees- Your Highness, pray expel me there.”
[Rabindranath Tagore, the timeless cultural icon, identified consistently with the cause of the oppressed and colonized around the world, and spoke out decisively for them in his speeches, lectures, during travels worldwide and conversationswith the greatest minds of his time (which included, rather importantly, some of the greatest in human history, including Albert Einstein, Romain Rolland, H.G. Wells, and many other luminaries including a great many who were influenced and inspired by his work and his message). Most of all, his empathy for the poor, the downtrodden, the tyrannized of the world is graphically emblazoned across his literary writings, and it is well past time that many of these be brought before the world as a whole. Given Tagore’s immense oeuvre, this is a massive task indeed. This translator intends to present some of these, in bits and pieces as long as fate provides the necessary time.
Tagore’s DeenaDaan is a story narrative whose relevance extends far beyond both the space of the kingdom where the event takes place, and also the time frame which extends to all time. It underscores the obscenity of extravagance on the part of the rich and powerful (here depicted through the grandiose actions of a monarch, and yet just as applicable to the obscenity of imperials looters and plunderers, many, many from the haughty Western world, who routinely lay to waste the precious resources of the earth and pile up unimaginable plunder and heartless consumption at the cost of millions of the poor and deprived whose lives are piled high with suffering and violence to keep running the machinery of the inherent evil and arrogance of the mighty). In this balladic story, a vainglorious monarchexpends enormous quantities of gold to build up a glittering temple to benevolent God while at the same time heartlessly turning away thousands of suffering subjects rendered paupers by a wildfire which consumed their all. The arrogant King is taught a lesson in humanity and morality by a highly revered sage who chooses to offer his devotions to God under the trees and upon the dust of the green earth instead of the King’s opulent temple. There is truth here which applies to the imperial, consumerist and market-economy world (the government, business and military nexus which is running berserk in the capitals in Washington, London, Paris and elsewhere) and its heartless greed and arrogance right now in our times.
Narottama– name of the sannyasi; literally, the highest among men.
Sadhu– a holy man, a renunciate, a recluse.
Sankirtana– sacred devotional chants usually to the Lord Krishna practiced by Bengal’s Vaishnavas.
Pranam– the Hindu practice of touching an elder’s feet out of reverence.
Sannyasi- an alternative name for Sadhu; literally, one who has renounced the world.
Devata– the deity or divinity being worshipped.
Asath- also called aswath or the peepul tree, similar to tree of enlightenment associated with the Buddha.
Bhagwan- the Lord of Destiny in Hinduism; often implying God.
Translated with comments by ©Monish R. Chatterjee.
Monish R. Chatterjee, Ph.D. Professor, ECE, Dept. of ECE University of Dayton
Sources:
https://countercurrents.org/2017/03/the-impoverished-gift/
https://www.humsamvet.com/literature/rabindranath-tagore-death-anniversary-poem-deeno-daan-4019
https://blog.dilipbarad.com/2020/05/tagore-and-nationalism.html
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