Monday, May 17, 2010

Sankara, A Bee, and A Bird

Sankara, A Bee, and A Bird

Of the many stotras (hymns), Adi Sankara’s “kanakadhara” is unique in many respects. Detailed meaning and commentaries are given by many. [Traditionalists prefer Samkara (శంకర), tracing the word to its two components: Sam and kara (karOti)]. The reader can find help at Kamakoti or Sri Chaganti. There must be numerous other sources on Internet. Perhaps, very well written books in several Indian languages are available in India.

As the writer’s skills are very limited –I humbly refrain from commenting on this work. Here, I solely confine myself to expanding a little bit on one or two stanzas. My intention is only to provide additional material, to what has already been commented extensively (at best this is to just augment a bit, never to replace other commentaries).

In the second stanza, we are referred to imagine a special tree ‘tamalam’. Tamal is the name of a tree. Can we find this tree now, I mean in circa 2010 in India? Where? How does it look? How to grasp and understand the total significance of these four lines that begin with “angam”?

After combing through a number of sources, I come to the view that Xanthochymus pictorius (Roxb) is the tree quoted here. Its features are described as follows: Bark, a bit dark (blackish, dark grey) and the leaves are elongated. White fragrant flowers. The fruit has three (1-4) seeds, tastes a bit sour and ripened ones look a bit yellow. Like a fake mango. Apparently this tree is available in other Asian countries too. But the Garcinia genus is large, accommodating almost fifty species. The flowers (of this tree) attract butterflies (and bees too?).

Here in northeast, over the years, I have watched several flowering trees: cherry, crabapple, magnolia, and rhododendron. Both magnolia and rhododendron exhibit interesting features in early spring. On every tip, on every shoot (little branch) we can see a latent flower bed. Most of the time, each bud will gradually, delicately open into a colorful (and fragrant) blossom. A few buds fail to open – this could be due to frost bite or some pest. Thus, in early April, we suddenly witness the tree (shrub) full of flowers. Though the magnolia flowers are endowed with delicate sweet fragrance, they do not normally attract bees. Why, I am not sure. But the tree does invite little birds, chickadees. These little birds, a bit tinier than sparrows, have a very endearing musical song. With the rhododendrons, the story is different. In winter, its leaves (it does not drop leaves in the fall, as most trees do here) turn a bit tan brown, and are often found curled up when the temperatures are below freezing point (32 degrees F). Come spring, it gets truly excited; every leathery leaf is fully open, with lustrous green color. And on every tip (terminal node) a latent flower bud anxiously waits for warm weather. Suddenly, on one single warm spring day, the buds burst open, and lo, the whole shrub is draped with purple flowers. This is perhaps a grand gesture by the plant. Now it seems the whole plant (tree) got an exciting jolt of electricity (excitement). Is this the real meaning of ‘pulaka-bhushana(పులక భూషణ)’? Here, in northeast, I get that feeling whenever I see apple or cherry trees in full blossoming. Of course, there are a number of tropical trees that go into similar frenzy of inflorescence. I watched in India too such floral festivities – gardenia, jasmine, Rangoon creeper, bougainvillea, gulmohar, and countless other trees.

But tamalam, must be unique too. I can only imagine its magnetism. The dark bark covered with green leaves and flowers. The Telugu name, “chikatimranu (చీకటి మ్రాను)” – is very apt; it conveys the full meaning of original Sanskrit word (tamalam).

Bringa in Sanskrit refers to bee, beetle, wasp. The order for bee is Hymenoptera. Butterflies belong to Lepidoptera. There are similarities and differences among these interesting insects. Most children are familiar with bees, bumblebees, wasps, and butterflies. Innocently as a child, I once inserted my pointing finger into a bumblebee nest (bamboo pole). Of course, I received a just, prompt painful punishment. Here, I watch these little insects in close proximity during spring, summer, and fall. Normally, they never bother nosy humans. They mind their business with utmost devotion, yielding benefit to flowers, farmers, and plants.

I want to share, if I may, two beautiful scenes involving these vivacious insects: In early spring, rhododendron flowers are visited by couple of bumblebees. The yellow jacketed bumblebee will go to each flower and pick up a tiny drop of nectar (and pollen). There are other flowers in the garden – daffodils, tulips, holly. The bee likes purple colored rhododendrons. The other scene involves Monarch butterfly. They visit us during the warm weather. But they spend winters in Mexico in huge colonies on trees. That sight, of hundreds of butterflies, lightly resting on tree leaves in Mexico is truly marvelous! I have seen only photos of this unique phenomenon. Here too I have witnessed such butterfly groups, but they do not visit us in huge colonies.

Now, coming back to the second stanza, starting with ‘angam Hare’. What is the original picture? A tree full of black bees? A tree full of butterflies? Bees on flowers? That, one has to investigate oneself. I cannot immediately go and find that tree in India. Is it in Kerala? Is it prevalent on the eastern ghats in Andhra? Which part of India? When do we find such trees decorated with bees? What season? Things are getting difficult now. I may never see that “black tamalam tree”. Though, I may succeed in imagining (visualizing) now. At least I have seen a bee on flower, a Monarch butterfly, a rhododendron shrub in full bloom, and a magnolia tree with scented flowers on every dancing node. Rest I have to arduously trek the path with sensitive imagination.

In the most pivotal stanza, the line, ‘..vihanga sisau vishaNNe’ catches everyone’s attention. Commentators usually cite, a bird ‘cataka’ for explaining this line. Here, sitting thousands of miles away, across at least seven seas from Indian subcontinent, I want to imagine this bird. Only the most immediate moment (rather instant) and the most proximate God (Deva) are of value to the earnest devotee. Everything else is secondary. One needs salvation (i.e., the solution) now, here – not somewhere on Kailas mountain, not in distant future. So, I want to understand this ‘bird’ now, here. Luckily that is possible. All we have to do is to look at a pair of morning (they are named erroneously as ‘mourning doves’. I’ve never noticed any sadness in their soft cooing) doves. How lovely are they? Have you looked at them when they gracefully strut, with their soft coo-cooing? It is the most peaceful pleasant sight. Here, I get to see them. In the driveway, on evergreen trees, on overhead electric wires, or on rooftop. Only once did I get a chance to see them make a nest. They are so shy, yet so sweet to watch. I never knew that rearing their young involves so much trouble. How could I peer into their nest? It was perched in the thick evergreen needles, up somewhere in the dense branches. The parent dove feeds the very young helpless chick (squab) with crop milk for a week or two. That is the only way the squab can gain growth and energy – it is totally dependent on the mother (or father). We cannot feed directly any solid food to the young bird. With extreme care, humans can feed young dove chicks liquid food. But, such human intervention, even if it occurs in some zoos or ornithology labs, it must be extremely rare.

So, is this the picture, Adi Sankara wanted to convey? We will know only through sincere exploration and meditation. (Two stories, of Raghavendra and a Nayanar briefly show up on mental screen.)Thus, the being (as all sentient entities are) is utterly dependent on the Mother for sustenance and progress. There is no other avenue left for the individual; one can, in ignorance, foolishly seek help from other agents – when in utter distress. But it is doubtful, whether such desperate attempts (like entreating rich landlords, ministers, officers, bosses, etc.) yield any fruitful results. The Mother will never deny help. In the mundane cruel world, things are different, are always harsh. I believe once I watched a rare tragic circumstance in nature. It was a chilly damp spring day near a pond. There was a bunch of tiny chicks following a Mallard duck. Perhaps there were six or seven newly hatched ducklings walking behind the hen. But one duckling was very weak and it could not maneuver the rocky uneven road near the pond’s edge. It slipped into a crevice between the boulders and its life was very precarious.

Life too is precarious, full of pitfalls at times. Only Mother’s grace, Her affectionate glance can help. Only She, and She alone can effortlessly remove that prickly karma. I may not know what is a cataka bird. But I get a little (a microscopic) glimpse at the whole distressing situation of a ‘lost, forlorn hungry little bird’. Now, all the life seems to be in that ‘little bird’, struggling to survive. Only She can intervene. No one, no human being can help to ease the situation. I remember now, how helpless I was near the struggling duckling.

Certainly one needs many skills to comprehend this stotra. Mere erudition, even a total mastery of Sanskrit is not enough. After all, words or speech can only guide us so far. Beyond that point, all intellect ceases to work. I bow to Sankara, Govindapada, and many preceptors in gratitude.

The writer’s intent is not to change, distort, or misinterpret the original Sanskrit hymn. Never. It is hoped the foregoing elaboration may help some, may motivate a few to further contemplate on this exquisite devotional poem. It may aid in further explorations – into meditation. Whether it is art, poetry, religion, or science – the individual has to make the effort and (s)he has to undertake the journey – for a true discovery. Every sincere student learns one important fact: Only that knowledge, which is totally assimilated, comprehended, and internalized – only that morsel of wisdom is useful in the end. We can strenuously listen to others, read books – but we must discover many things in life first hand. Unfortunately, there is no other way. Except, there is one great exception to this rule, i.e., Mother’s grace.

Ah, all this is just for two lines of devotional poem. What a delight to meditate on these Sanskrit lines!

(Posted earlier at Sulekha. Copyright 2010 by the author)