The Mahatmas
KUTHUMI
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(This poem is purely a play of the imaginative, a poetic reconstruction of the central idea only of Mahatmahood.)
The seven mountains and the seven seas Surround me. Over me the eightfold Sun Blazing with various colours – green and blue, Scarlet and rose, violet and gold and white, And the dark disk that rides in the mortal cave – Looks down on me in flame. Below spread wide The worlds of the immortals, tier on tier Like a great mountain climbing to the skies, And on their summit Shiva dwells. Of old My doings were familiar with the earth, The mortals over whom I hold control Were then my fellows. But I followed not The usual path, the common thoughts of men. A thirst of knowledge and a sense of power, A passion of divine beneficence Pursued me through a hundred lives. I rose From birth to birth, until I reached the peak Of human knowledge, then in Bharat born, I, Kuthumi, the Kshatriya, the adept, The mighty Yogin of Dwaipayan’s school, ToVyasa came, our great original sage. He looked upon me with the eyes that see And smiled august and awful. “Kuthumi,” He cried, “now gather back what thou hast earned In many lives, remember all thy past, Cease from thy round of human births, resume The eightfold powers that make a man as God. Then come again and learn thy grandiose work, For thou art of the souls to death denied.” I went into the mountains by the sea That thunders pitilessly from night to morn, And sung to by that rude relentless sound Amidst the cries of beasts, the howl of winds, Page-83 Surrounded by the gnashing demon hordes, I did the Hathayoga in three days, Which men with anguish through ten lives effect, Not that now practised by earth’s feeble race, But that which Ravan knew in Lanka, Dhruv Fulfilled, Hiranyakashipu performed, The Yoga of the old Lemurian Kings. I felt the strength of Titans in my veins, The joy of Gods, the pride of Siddhas. Tall And mighty like a striding God I came To Vyasa; but he shook his dense piled locks, Denying me; “Thou art not pure,” he cried. I went in anger to Himaloy’s peaks And on the highest in the breathless snow Sat dumb for many years. Then knowledge came Streaming upon me and the hills around Shook with the feet of the descending power. I did the Rajayoga in three days, Which men with care and accuracy minute Ceaselessly follow for an age in vain– Not Kali’s Rajayoga, but the means Of perfect knowledge, purity and force Bali the Titan learned and gave to men, The Yoga of the old Atlantic Kings. I came to Vyasa, shining like a sun. He smiled and said, “Now seek the world’s Great Soul, Sri Krishna, where he lives on earth concealed, Give up to him all that thou know’st and hast; For thou art he, elect from mortal men To guard the knowledge, yet an easy task While the third age preserves man’s godlike form. But when thou seest the iron Kali come And he from Dwarca leaves the Earth, know then The time of trial, help endangered men, Preserve the knowledge that preserves the world, Until Sri Krishna utterly returns. Then art thou from thy mighty work released Into the worlds of bliss for endless years To rest, until another aeon comes, When of the seven Rishis thou art one.” Page-84 I sent my knowledge forth across the land. It found him not in Bharat’s princely halls, In quiet asrams, nor in temples pure, Nor where the wealthy traffickers resort – Brahmin nor Kshatriya body housed the Lord, Vaisya nor Sudra nor outcaste. At length To a bare hut on a wild mountain’s verge Led by the star I came. A hermit mad Of the wild Abhirs, who sat dumbed or laughed And ran and leaped and danced upon the hills But told the reason of his joy to none, In him I saw the Lord, behind the man Perceived the spirit that contains the world. I fell before him, but he leapt and ran And smote me with his foot and out of me All knowledge, all desire, all strength was gone Into its source. I sat an infant child. He laughed aloud and said, “Take back thy gifts, O beggar!” and went leaping down the slope. Then full of light and strength and bliss I soared Beyond the spheres, above the mighty Gods And left my human body on the snows. And others gathered to me, more or less In puissance to assist, but mine the charge By Vishnu given. I gather knowledge here, Then to my human frame awhile descend And walk mid men, choosing my instruments, Testing, rejecting and confirming souls – Vessels of the Spirit; for the golden age In Kali comes, the iron lined with gold, The Yoga shall be given back to men, The sects shall cease, the grim debates die out And atheism perish from the Earth, Blasted with knowledge; love and brotherhood And wisdom repossess Sri Krishna’s world. Page-85 |