Monday, December 27, 2010

White-Bellied Woodpecker

I must say i am getting exceedingly lucky with woodpeckers, the reason could be that woodpeckers make that characteristic tapping noise which is hard to miss and once spotted they seem more bothered in their own business, so it is possible to sneak quite close undisturbed. This one was few feet away from me, busy extracting some grub as also defending quite furiously against a persistent squirrel. Then it saw me and hid behind the trunk to peek- really was quite funny, it flew away rather irritated. White bellied Woodpecker has all the characteristics of a woodpecker except that its flights are not undulating, much larger in size they are striking to look at. Also referred to as Great Blacks, the nominate species habitat Europe. White bellied extend from peninsular India to east Asia right up to Philippines. The other day I saw in TV that woodpecker while they tap the tree take in force that is equivalent to 20 times the knockout punch in boxing bout!!. They are able to do that with special adaptation in the skull.

Sanskrit : a classical language that gets sweeter with age

Sanskrit is an ancient language and a melodious one that but unfortunately was misused by the ‘Brahmins’ to create division and misery, the reason why it couldn’t thrive or reach its rightful place in modern India. Rarely has a language suffered because of the misdeeds of few. Sanskrit does survive in other languages though, for instance Malayalam has a major share of Sanskrit in it. Indeed Malayalam is a confluence of Tamil (Dravidian) and Sanskrit (Aryan). You can easily imagine the beauty of Sanskrit poems by listening to recitation of Malayalam poems. I always loved listening to Malayalam poetry, did had cassettes of it sometime back, and have attended few programs while in Kerala. Malayalam poems are so very musical, a pleasure to listen. Rarely is a Malayalam poem frivolous, deep tenor, rendition one of the finest- an art in itself. It’s immensely satisfying to listen to Malayalam poetry recitation; there are also programs in TV channels. I also have strong liking for renditions of Tamil poems too, it brims with energy and passion.

The word Sanskrit means ‘refined’...i wouldn’t really agree to that, it would imply others have shortcomings and that’s unacceptable. And yes God had better things to do than creating languages, every language is deva vani. Considering the socio-cultural context i would even call it pretentious. Language is a language nothing more or less.

I need point out here that there are some who make audacious statements like Urdu being only language for poems...they get away with these dumb and rather chauvinist statements i guess under the guise of secularism. Everyone loves their mother tongue and finds it no less poetic. And yes I have listened to Urdu and haven’t really found anything special, irritatingly sinuous sometimes (i have a word for it- zamzamahat!). Though i have nothing against Urdu and do like some of the poets- in particular Faiz, but exaggeration by pretentious people is where the problem is. There is also a sinister attempt to classify Urdu as Muslim language! A language has no religion, as much as Sanskrit doesn’t belong to Brahmins. I happen to visit Mattur a village near Shimoga that is being tagged as Sanskrit village...well this blogger didn’t find anything worthy here other than bunch of arrogant threaded types who call themselves Brahmins and pass it on to their offspring as culture!. If obnoxious Brahminism is what they are trying to bring back under the guise of Sanskrit then it will be resisted, this blogger even brand this as blatant casteism (the pic is that of two students observing the river).

Kalidasa: Bhaso hasah, Kalidaso vilasah (Bhasa is mirth, Kalidasa is grace)

The water lily closes, but
With wonderful reluctancy;
As if it troubled her to shut
Her door of welcome to the bee.

Undoubtedly Sanskrit has one of the richest collection of literature, some even elevated to the status of holy. Where Sanskrit really enchants is the poems, Kalidasa in particular, he writes (i found this fine English translation, difficult since Sanskrit poems followed strict metre and has complex sound patterns).

Is poetry always worthy when it’s old?
And is it worthless, then, because it’s new?
Reader, decide yourself if this is true:
Fools suspend judgment, waiting to be told.

Other Sanskrit poets of repute included Bhavabhuti, Bhartrhari, Varahamihira, Dandin, Sudraka and so on (by the way even King Harsha), but it is Kalidasa who stands out, he was a master poet. A genius of sort, he was one of the most read Indian poet for fifteen hundred years. Look at these insightful lines (again only half as charming in translation):

Who was artificer at her creation?
Was it the moon, bestowing its own charm?
Was it the graceful month of spring, itself
Compact with love, a garden full of flowers?
That ancient saint there, sitting in trance,
Bemused by prayers and dull theology,
Cares naught for beauty: how could he create
Such loveliness, the old religious fool

How charming!. This is where Sanskrit really belongs, not some ritual pit that it is being reduced to. How about this one

If a scholar thinks what matters most
is to have gained an academic post
Where he can earn a livelihood, and then
neglect research, let controversy rest,
He’s but a petty tradesman at the best,
selling retail the work of other men.

Kalidasa lived around 4th century and was considered as ‘nine gem’ in the court of King Chandragupta Vikramaditya of Ujjain-a great patron of art. Some of the other nine gems were also poets, others represented science—astronomy, medicine, lexicography. Details of Kalidasa’s life is rather sketchy, in ancient times writings was contribution of passion and pleasure than aggrandisement the reason he rarely mentions himself, thus making it difficult. Indeed he mentions himself in the prologue of three plays with much reluctance and modesty!!

Kalidasa is known for epic plays like Malavikagnimitra, Shakuntalam (i have listened to that story many times as also had a copy of Amar Chitra Katha). Kalidasa also wrote two epic poems titled Kumaarasambhava and Raghuvamsha. As also very popular lyric poems Meghaduttam (cloud messenger) and the Ritusamhara (description of the seasons). Meghaduttam is one of the finest works; the beauty of Sanskrit is unmatched. Kalidasa is about love- between man and woman, the nature and not to miss the children. Love as natural instinct. It was 7th century poet Bana who wrote

Where find a soul that does not thrill
In Kalidasa's verse to meet
The smooth, inevitable lines
Like blossom-clusters, honey-sweet?

A minute observer of nature, Kalidasa describes mountains in detail, the trees, river, flowers (indeed he is the only Sanskrit poet who has described a certain flower that grows in Kashmir). I quote these lines from Shankuntalam.

Learn first, O cloud, the road that thou must go,
Then hear my message ere thou speed away;
Before thee mountains rise and rivers flow:
When thou art weary, on the mountains stay,
And when exhausted, drink the rivers' driven spray.

Though thou be pledged to ease my darling's pain,
Yet I foresee delay on every hill
Where jasmines blow, and where the peacock-train
Cries forth with joyful tears a welcome shrill;
Thy sacrifice is great, but haste thy journey still.

Drink where the golden lotus dots the lake;
Serve Indra's elephant as a veil to hide
His drinking; then the tree of wishing shake,
Whose branches like silk garments flutter wide:
With sports like these, O cloud, enjoy the mountain side

The ashoka-tree, with sweetly dancing lines,
The favourite bakul-tree, are near the bower
Of amaranth-engirdled jasmine-vines;
Like me, they wait to feel the winning power
Of her persuasion, ere they blossom into flower.

Small as the elephant cub thou must become
For easy entrance; rest where gems enhance
The glory of the hill beside my home,
And peep into the house with lightning-glance,
But make its brightness dim as fireflies' twinkling dance.

Himalaya's breeze blows gently from the north,
Unsheathing twigs upon the deodar
And sweet with sap that it entices forth—I embrace it lovingly; it came so far,
Perhaps it touched thee first, my life's unchanging star!

Kalidasa was an inspiration to generations of people throughout the centuries. The painting of course is by Raja Ravi Varma and happens to be one of my favourite, how beautifully he captures nuances of these lines by Kalidasa about 1400 years later!!. Spellbinding, art its best.

Although she does not speak to me,
She listens while I speak;
Her eyes turn not to see my face,
But nothing else they seek.

When I was near, she could not look at me;
She smiled—but not to me—and half denied it;
She would not show her love for modesty,
Yet did not try so very hard to hide it.

When she had hardly left my side,
"I cannot walk," the maiden cried,
And turned her face, and feigned to free
The dress not caught upon the tree

Ravi Varma did his own modification, i guess since south indian women during those days didn't wear loose cloths that could get 'caught upon the tree', he makes it a thorn on the foot that she fakes!. I love everything about this painting. How charming.