XXII. THE TYRANNY OF A DIVIDED WILLMother, how often shall I make my complaint to thee? I am floating like weeds in a sea of misery. I am without root and without station or direction. Six several ways the Six Passions pull me, and sorely hurt I fall in the midst of them. Twice-born Rāmprasād says: Mother, now I know that you are without mercy. Fulfil this life of mine by granting me vision once of thee standing in my temple. XXIII. KĀLĪ NEGLECTS HER WORSHIPPER, IN MAD DANCE All this is a girl's madcap pleasure, in whose enchantment the three worlds swoon into forgetfulness. She is mad, her lord is mad, his two disciples[107] are mad. Her beauty and her nature, her gestures and her thought, surpass all speech. If one takes her name, one's happiness flames into ashes,[108] [46]and the burning pain of poison comes into the throat.[109] FOOTNOTES: [107] Nandī and Bhriṅgī, two faithful demons, who attend on Śiva; comic characters, but mischievous and powerful, and ruthless in execution of his orders. [108] Literally, 'the forehead is burnt,' an extremely common expression. It is believed that the sutures of the front of the skull are a man's written fate. 'It is worse than vain, it is misery to worship so careless a goddess.' [109] Śiva drank the poison which came out when the gods and giants churned the ocean and which threatened all lives. Hence his throat became stained blue, and he was Nīlakaṇṭha, blue-throated. XXIV. KĀLĪ THE BATTLE-QUEEN Ever art thou dancing in battle, Mother. Never was beauty like thine, as, with thy hair flowing about thee, thou dost ever dance, a naked warrior on the breast of Śiva.[110] Heads of thy sons, daily freshly killed, hang as a garland around thy neck. How is thy waist adorned with human hands! Little children are thy ear-rings. Faultless are thy lovely lips; thy teeth are fair as the kunda [111] in full bloom. Thy face is bright as the lotus-flower, and terrible is its constant smiling. Beautiful as the rain-clouds is thy form; all blood-stained are thy Feet. Prasād says: My mind is as one that dances. No longer can my eyes behold such beauty. FOOTNOTES: [110] Kālī is usually represented standing on Śiva's body. After slaying the demon Mahishāsura she danced, shaking the world. In her excitement she ignored even her husband's request that she should atop. So he lay down; and, when she found herself on his body, she thrust out her tongue in dismay. Rāmprasād in some poems takes this story symbolically; Kālī is over Śiva, is greater than he. [111] A jasmine. XXV. ŚIVA UNDER KĀLĪ'S FEET Come down from Hara's[112] breast and dance no more, you mad old hag. Śiva is not dead, he is alive; he, the great saint, is lost in meditation. Such is the strength of those feet of yours that with your dancing you will break Bhōlā's ribs. [47] Śiva, you know, has swallowed poison[113] and so his strength has gone. Come down, and do your dancing, Mother, you who are loved by Śiva. He whom the poison could not kill, why should he die today? Says Rāmprasād: He is feigning death that he may possess your blood-stained Feet. FOOTNOTES: [112] 'He who takes away, who destroys,' i.e. Śiva. [113] See note to XXIII. XXVI. THE STORM-PROCESSION OF ŚIVA Jagadambā's watchmen go out into dread, black night, Jagadambā's watchmen! 'Victory! Victory to Kālī!' they cry, and, clapping their hands and striking upon their cheeks, they shout Bam, Bam. That worshippers may tremble, the flowery chariot is in the sky and in it rides the ghosts, in it too are bhairavas and vetālas. [114] Upon their heads is the half-moon crest,[115] in their hands the dreadful trident; to their feet hangs down their matted hair. With them first come the serpents strong as death, then follow mighty tigers, monstrous bears. They roll their red eyes before the worshippers, who, half-dead with fear, cry out, no longer able to sit at their devotions. Can aught evil befall the true worshipper? Rather in his delight he finds all things are good. By the power of that Dread-visaged one,[116] thy prayers are made effectual, thou dost conquer both in this life and the next. [48] Rāmprasād, a poet and her slave, is swimming in a sea of happiness. Can misfortune come to one who worships? What cares he for these dread things? He sits vīrāsana [117] at his devotions and takes the name of Kālī as his shield. FOOTNOTES: [114] Ghosts (bhūtas) are ordinary sinful spirits; Bhairava (the terrible one) is a name of Śiva, but is also used for his lieutenants who command the demon-world under him; vetālas are the spirits of people who have died by accident or by suicide, without having completed their allotted term. [115] Chandra the Moon was husband of the twenty-seven stars of the Hindu zodiac, the daughters of Daksha. He neglected them all for one of them, Rōhiṇī. The twenty-six complained to their father, who laid on the Moon the curse that he should waste away. The Moon besought Śiva's aid; and he wears the crescent moon always, lest the Moon fade out of existence. [116] Kālī. [117] Vīrāsana, 'the hero-seat,' with both legs crossed, the right foot above the left thigh, the left foot above the right thigh. One of the attitudes prescribed for meditation to the followers of the yōga philosophy. The Śākta authorities variously estimate the number of these attitudes, from eighty-four to eight million four hundred thousand. Practically any Hindu can adopt the vīrāsana attitude; but the translators, both accustomed to English athletic exercises all their lives, cannot manage it. XXVII. THE WORSHIPPER'S HEART IS KĀLĪ'S HOME The Happy One is in my heart; ever is she playing there. I meditate on thoughts that come to me, but never do I forget her name. Though both my eyes are closed, yet in my heart I see her, garlanded with heads of men. Possessions, understanding, all are gone, and men say I am mad. Let them say what they will; but at last, I pray thee, spurn me not. Rāmprasād says: Present art thou within my lotus-heart.[118] Spurn me not at the last, Mother, me who have found refuge at thy Feet. FOOTNOTES: [118] See notes to XI and XV.
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