Master, what are you saying?
To go to the desolate place where three mountain peaks meet,
To the silent valley near it,
To build a lonely hut in a tiny tribal hamlet there,
And to live there, far away from everyone –
Was I picked up from the streets by you?
Did I come to you of my own accord?
Was I bred and brought up all alone?
Mother and father I have;
Kith and kin have I;
Elder and younger sisters I have;
Friends and companions have I; and,
Relatives and acquaintances I have.
I cannot forget all these people;
Even if it means to lose my life.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
(Enraged with his wife’s refusal to swear an oath of fidelity, Neelegowda takes her to a desolate place and builds a tiny hut there; and still tries to persuade her to swear an oath. But Sankamma is unshakable in her decision.)
But, in this dark and desolate forest,
There are no crows to crow nor any owls to hoot;
No birds to chirp, nor any fowls to twitter,
And not a sound of human beings.
Why do you ask me to swear an oath in such a place, master?
Do not say so, my wife.
Supposing you bring bamboo-rice,
And, to prepare gruel, you start a fire;
In this dark and dense forest,
When the smoke, long and thin, rises high,
It will cover the entire hill, and then,
The merchants will sight it.
Aha! There is some hamlet here;
There seems to be some settlement here;
There could be children under their mother’s care;
There could be wives under their mothers-in-law’s care;
We could do good business here – thinking thus,
In time and out of time,
From the Northern country,
There comes a bangle-seller.
‘Bangles’ ‘bangles’ – he shouts.
You will notice the bangle-seller,
And beckon him near you.
Wife, you will beckon the bangle-seller,
And he will come near you.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
In this forest, on this path,
If a bangle-seller passes by,
Shouting ‘bangles’ ‘Bombay
A creature of a woman like you,
Just adores turmeric, kunkum, flowers and bangles.
Even when you are dying from hunger,
You will yearn for those things --
Then you will invite the bangle-seller with your gestures.
The bangle-seller approaches you;
He lays down the gunny-sack from his shoulder,
And spread it on the floor.
He places on it the string of bangles.
Come, child; select the bangles you like – he says.
You come near and sit before him.
You hold a few bangles to the light, and then,
Ask the bangle-seller to put them on your wrist,
And so extend your hand.
Then, clasping your soft hand,
Caressing your smooth arms,
The bangle-seller,
He gazes at your smooth and round arms.
Listen, my wife!
He puts one bangle on your arm, for your beauty;
He puts another bangle on your arm, for your charm;
He puts one more bangle on your arm, for your looks;
He puts still one more on your arm, for your features.
Wife,
He puts one bangle on your arm for your beauty,
And he puts one more on your arm for your charm.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
Look you, my wife Sankenne!
He will put shining bangles
On both of your right and left arms.
Then, you will bow to the string of bangles,
Get up and go inside.
If there be money at home, you will give him money;
If there be food-grains, you will give him food-grains.
Sankenne! My wife Sankenne! Look!
You will then pace here and there, because
There is neither money nor food-grains at home.
The bangle- seller, sitting there, observes you for a while.
This woman, pacing here and there, is all alone –
With this thought, my wife,
He observes your figure and features;
He observes your beauty and charm.
He notices your shape and curves;
He notices your gait and style.
Wife, he then caresses you with love,
And cajoles you to elope with him.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
Wife, you will run away with the bangle-seller,
To my total ruin and disgrace.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
O my master!
I will bear your feet on my head, please.
Don’t you trust the Sky above and Mother Earth below?
In the house of my in-laws,
I swore in the name of my sisters and relatives.
But who is here with me in this dark and desolate forest?
The Sun and the Moon are my father and mother;
The trees and plants here are my kith and kin.
With these trees and plants as my witnesses,
I will not, my husband, swear an oath.
Master, once I swear an oath, my dharma won’t survive.
In this universe, master,
Aren’t there other female beings like me?
Aren’t there other male beings like you?
Do you demand an oath from me, master?
Sir, pay heed to my words;
Sir, go to the hills of wild honeycombs.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
(Neelegowda, mad with rage, screams at her.)
Wife,
If I have to go leaving you alone, then,
Take off the saree you are wearing;
Take off the blouse you have put on;
And, take off your colourful golden trinkets.
Remove the belt of gold from your waist;
Remove the bracelets from your arms;
And remove the string of pearls from your forehead.
Take off the saree you are wearing, my wife,
I will give you a different one in its place;
Take off the saree you are wearing.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
Alas! Shiva-Shiva! Master,
Mother, father, kith and kin,
Brothers and sisters …forgetting all of them,
With the firm belief,
That I have only my husband’s feet to depend on,
That my salvation lies only with my husband,
That I will reach Heaven only through my husband,
That a wife without her husband is worse than a worthless rock,
I came here, trusting you alone, my husband.
Don’t you utter such sinful words, master;
I will bear your feet on my head.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
The hills bow to thee, Madeva;
The bamboo groves bow to you.
O Madappa, the Lord of the hills!
He who touches you bows to you.
Sankamma, the devotee of Shiva,
She looked down at Mother Earth, she looked up at the Sky.
O Mother Earth! O Sky above!
In this dark and desolate forest,
You are my father and mother; you are my kith and kin.
I have left behind all of my relatives already;
And these golden trinkets aren’t greater than my relatives;
It matters little even if my husband takes away my life –
With such thoughts, standing inside that thatch-hut,
Sankamma, full of grief:
Sir,
Why do I need the saree I have worn?
Why do I need the blouse I have put on?
Why do I need colours and gold?
Why do I need the girdle around my waist?
Why do I need the anklets on my feet?
Why do I need the bracelets on my arms?
Why do I need the string of pearls on my forehead?
Why do I need the girdle around my waist?
That virtuous woman pulls off the saree with her left hand,
And wipes the tears in her eyes with her right hand.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
O Madeva of Alambady!
Cast a kind glance at us.
The garlands round the water-pots
Flutter and wave in the wind.
Sankamma, the devotee of Shiva,
Removed all the gold and other ornaments on her body,
Took off the saree she wore and the blouse she had on,
Bundled them all together, and said:
Master! My master!
Take back your paint and gold.
She placed the bundle outside her thatch-hut,
And, as if she was just born from her mother’s womb,
She lay prostrate on the ground, completely naked.
(Having stripped herself bare to the bone, Sankamma covers her body with the thorny leaves and creepers her husband throws at her. Still not satisfied with the punishment meted out to her, Neelegowda throws her on the ground, and savagely, …)
Sir,
He pricks her eyes with needles,
He punctures her ears with a bodkin;
He pricks her eyes with needles,
And puts a lock onto her mouth;
He ties her hands at the back,
He ties her wrists together,
And fetters her legs.
Neelayya, the Soliga of the hills,
He roughens her and bundles her up,
And throws her down on the ground.
// Give alms to the sage on the mountain peak. //
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. C.N. Ramachandran
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dr. C.N. Ramachandran
No comments:
Post a Comment