Of Kritical Importance: The Faith that Prevailed
From calm to calm through ripples of grief and sorrow
How does one deal with grief? Or sorrow?
Come across any hardship in life, and the first thing we want to do is to try and free ourselves from the burden we feel — the burden of sorrow, anguish, fear and desolation. If you are someone who believes in the existence of a higher power, then your times of trouble are probably when you turn to this faith to seek peace and solace.
As Kabir Das, Indian mystic-poet rightly said in his ‘doha’ (couplet):
दुःख में सुमिरन सब करे सुख में करै न कोय।
जो सुख में सुमिरन करे तो दुःख काहे को होय ॥Translation:
“In anguish everyone prays to Him, in joy does none; for one who prays in happiness, why would there be any misery?”
The idea of holding someone above us responsible for our troubles and problems, and asking that someone take it all away is very easily appealing. But it is just as easy to forget that ‘someone’ when we are feeling happy and content.
But such was not the case with India’s most celebrated Musician-Saint, Thyagaraja.
Thyagaraja’s love for his Lord, Shri Rama was like that of a doting child for his mother — the purest form of devotion. Rama made up the very fabric of Thyagaraja’s existence. This relationship warranted Thyagaraja’s compositions accounting for his every emotion; and communicating them to his Lord. Every step of the way, he would run to his Rama — be it to pray, explain, question, beg, complain or just muse.
It was his father, Ramabrahmam who introduced and ingrained in him the concept of Rama Bhakti. The worship of Lord Rama — King of Ayodhya, hero of the masses, the quintessence of virtue and nobility — was as much a part of Thyagaraja’s life as was breathing.
After losing his father at the tender age of 20, Shri Thyagaraja knew only one way to cope — by completely surrendering himself to Lord Rama, by immersing himself into the realm of constant Rama Nama Japam or chanting of the Lord’s sacred name. It was in this period of grief and desolation that he wrote one of the absolute gems in literary and musical history — ‘Sadhinchane’. As the third of the Pancharatna Kritis, a masterpiece in its own merit, set in the auspicious Carnatic Raga Arabhi, Sadhinchane explores yet another side to the mind-boggling poet.
In ‘Sadhinchane’, Thyagaraja playfully chides the Lord for his hypocrisy and questions the fairness of His actions. Except, this time it is not his usual hero Lord Rama; but it is Lord Krishna — next-in-line in the series of Hindu God Vishnu’s ten incarnations on earth, known as the Dashavatar.
Krishna — the name itself brings to our hearts a familiar and profound sense of fondness and warmth. The perfect blend of love, wisdom and mischief, who better than the Creator of Maya (illusion) himself, Lord Krishna, to be the protagonist of this narrative.
In spite of being set to a sweet and cheerful melody, one can sense the undertones of deep emotion, as we hear Thyagaraja playfully scold Lord Krishna for all the mischief that makes up the story of His life on earth. This is the magic of Raga Arabhi, often described to be pleasing, yet beautifully haunting to the ears.
What starts off with the powerful line: ‘Sadhinchane, O Manasa’, which basically means ‘you have achieved’; this Kriti goes on to say that by not coming to him and evading him despite all the prayer, the Lord has managed to get his own way.
Following this is yet another hard-hitting verse:
bOdhincina sanmArga vacanamula
bonku jEsi tA paTTina paTTu
As much as we’d like to look up to someone in our lives for guidance and advice, we aren’t ones to just let it slide when they don’t actually practice what they preach. In this line, Thyagaraja says that The Lord has falsified his own teachings of righteousness and integrity.
Sadhinchane teases Krishna, calling Him out on his hypocrisy; and calling His words undependable as they change to suit the circumstances.
Krishna subjected His birth parents, Devaki and Vasudeva to numerous trials in their lives. He let Yashoda, His foster-mother believe that He was her own. Each time she would kiss him, He would smile back at her, not giving anything away. He let the Gopis or the young maidens of Vrindavan fall for His charms. He knew that He could never completely be theirs, or fulfill their hearts’ desires, He taunted them nonetheless.
parama bhakta vatsaluDu suguNa pArAvaruNDa janma mana ghUDi kali
bAdhalu dIrcu vADanucu nE hrdambujamuna jUcu cuNDaga
In these verses from our composition ‘Sadhinchane’, Thyagaraja says: in spite of Krishna being one to grace every devotee with unbiased love; and being the epitome of virtue, He failed to free me from the struggles of the Kaliyuga.
According to Hindu scriptures and Vedic reckoning we are now in the Kali Yuga or the ‘Dark Age’, an unspiritual 432,000 year period of ignorance, sin and short lifespan. So effectively, you, me and Saint Thyagaraja — all exist and have existed in this ‘yuga’. Ironically, according to scriptures, it was Krishna’s departure from the Earth that marked the beginning of this age wherein us mortals are the farthest away from God and spiritual consciousness.
Let’s rewind a bit to the opening line: ‘Sadhinchane, Oh manasa!’ While I translated the word ‘Sadhinchane’ to ‘you have achieved’, I didn’t translate the second half of the line that shows us who he is actually addressing. ‘Oh manasa’ is Thyagaraja’s typical way of calling out to his own heart in quite a few of his thousands of compositions. One thing we are sure of, is that despite how convincing Thyagaraja makes his scolding of the Lord, he is in fact only introspecting within himself — never once does he actually doubt his saviour, his hero.
This is not the only Kriti in which Thyagaraja pleads for a way to end his suffering; pleads for Him to come to him and mitigate his ache and longing. We can see a striking similarity in yet another extremely popular composition of this genius gifted musician, ‘Nagumomu Ganaleni’.
nagumōmu ganalēni nā jāli telisi
nanu brōvaga rādā śrī raghuvara nīTranslation:
Knowing that bereft of Your smiling face,
Distraught is my state,
Foremost of the Raghus, won’t You
Come to me, to alleviate?
One can only imagine the extent of desperation in Thyagaraja’s heart as he wrote these verses. Yet, ironically, it is set in Raga Abheri — known to be happy, pleasant and soothing. In today’s Carnatic Music world, Nagumomu is a crowd-favourite; and a must-have piece in any artist’s set list.
I wonder why these two beautiful yet sorrowful Kritis are set in the Ragas Arabhi (vibrant and full of valour) and Abheri (mood-elevator). As a Carnatic Music Rasika myself, I have listened to both these compositions being performed live to an audience; and I have to say, the energy in the room was tangible, and the vibes I got were nothing but pleasant. When listening to these songs, never once did I stop to contemplate the actual meaning or emotion behind the words. In my opinion, these two Ragas aesthetically disguise these strong emotions. This kind of a balance in Thyagaraja’s kritis reminds me of the Japanese saying :
“水の心” — “mizu no kokoro”
Translation:
Mind like still water
rather what Thyagaraja would have referred to as “Sthiramaina nīru vaṇṭi manas’su”. When we perturb our steady water-like conscience with a pebble of hardship, we are stirred with ripples of grief and sorrow. But, one must realize that any such emotion should be commensurate with what caused it. Moreover, one must train on swiftly returning back to the still and calm state of one’s steady water-like mind.
Although the bhavas derived from the two Ragas are quite contrasting to the emotions expressed by the lyrics, I’d like to believe that these weren’t mere coincidences.
I’d like to believe, it must’ve been Thyagaraja’s intent to preach the fact that all grief and sorrow that our mind experiences, is draped in an ultimate sense of stillness, peace and calm. Heart like still water.
I’d like to believe that despite his anguish, deep within, he was lost in his own blissful love and unwavering faith for his Lord. Faith like still water.
I’d like to believe that the reason was to show us all that true faith does prevail. Truth like still water.
This article has been written in collaboration with Shashvat Jayakrishnan.
