The Abode of Ānanda

Image Credit: SPORG Studio

One night, when I had retired to bed, joyously un-waiting for Mother Sleep to envelop me into her peaceful hug, I was somehow reminded of an episode from Goswami Tulasidasa’s Rāmacaritamānasa. When the mighty Rāmadūta [1] meets the despondent Rāmapriyā [2], at the Aśoka Vātikā in Lanka, her initial joy soon relapses into anxiety as she is painfully reminded of her captivity. She inconsolably laments her separation from her doting husband and lovingly complains why the kindhearted King of the Raghus has forgotten her, his ever-beloved wife. Hanumana, himself dejected at witnessing Sita’s unspeakable misery, assures her of Rāma’s unflinching love for her and proceeds to deliver the message he has brought from her husband.

What struck me was that despite having read this episode umpteen times, I never stopped to appreciate the sheer intensity of Rama’s own sorrow, as expressed in his message. It was as if I had thought it did not merit my attention – some mawkish melodramatic hyperbole, meant just to be glossed over! I sat up as I started to recall the words, which for the first time I heard in the heart rather than in the ears:

कहेउ राम बियोग तव सीता ।

मो कहुँ सकल भए बिपरीता ॥

नव तरु किसलय मनहुँ कृसानू ।

कालनिसा सम निसि ससि भानू ॥

कुबलय बिपिन कुंत बन सरिसा ।

बारिद तपत तेल जनु बरिसा ॥

जे हित रहे करत तेइ पीरा ।

उरग स्वास सम त्रिबिध समीरा ॥

कहेहू तें कछु दुख घटि होई ।

काहि कहौं यह जान न कोई ॥

तत्व प्रेम कर मम अरु तोरा ।

जानत प्रिया एकु मनु मोरा ॥

सो मनु सदा रहत तोहि पाहीं ।

जानु प्रीति रसु एतेनहि माहीं ॥

Says Rama thus: “Ever since my separation from you, oh Sita, everything to me has turned adverse. The fresh new tree-leaves seem [torturous] like flames of fire! Gentle kindly night verily like kālarātri [3] feels and the tender Moon [as agonizing as] the scorching Sun! Swathes of lotuses like a bed of spears appear, and clouds in the sky pour but hot sizzling oil! Those that used to be favourable now cause pain, and the trividha [4] breeze feels verily like the serpent’s venomous breath! One’s sorrow would be alleviated if shared with others; but whom do I share it with? The true meaning of our love, oh my beloved, is known to my heart alone – which heart stays ever with you! Know in the brevity of these words the essence of my love!”

The words suddenly made me restless. I, who consider myself a Ramabhakta, have been so insensitive to Rama’s pain! This young boy lost his wife to an invincible rākṣasa, does not know where she is, under what conditions, or whether she is still alive. Her, a wife who insistently accompanied him to the dreadful araṇya [5] leaving unimaginable comforts and luxuries that come with being princess of one of world’s most prosperous kingdoms, purely out of love and concern! Her, who had never known of sorrow, less misery! Her, a one who is loveliness personified! And to whom can a Rama narrate his unbearable agony? Whoever will be able to feel it? And finally he confides in Hanumana to deliver to her this message of deep anguish. The omnipotent Rama is suddenly just a small child, weeping and opening up his heart to his beloved wife and friend! He is at once pouring out his pent-up feelings and assuring her of his own unflickering love for her.

It is the bane of being strong, that people fail to empathise with you. The mighty Rama seemed too powerful, too superhuman to me to be able to appreciate the agony he too must have endured at losing Sita. And then, he himself says that the essence of his love for Sita could be understood by his heart alone. However, recalling the Goswami’s words that night, I think I did get a fleeting peep into Rama’s heart.

A useful insight

Starting that night, for the next 2-3 months, these verses preoccupied my mind. I would sing them all the time (much to the chagrin of my poor family!) I had stolen a beautiful melody from Mukesh’s matchless rendition of the Rāmacaritamānasa (composed by Murli Manohar Swarup) and would sing nonstop the same lines on loop. They had struck a chord deep in my heart. As I would think excessively about this episode, one day, a beautiful insight dawned on me, one that imparted me peace and joy. Here it goes.

In the ādhyātmika [6] interpretation of the Ramayana, Rama is taken to be the Paramātman [7] and Sita the Jīvātman [8], and the abduction of Sita translates into the separation of the Jivatman from the Paramatman [9] (with Ravana being equated to ahaṁkāra [10].) Now, this episode shows that, just like Sita, Rama too is drenched in agony at their separation and as much as Sita is dying to reunite with Him, he too is equally pining for Her. I therefore concluded that, analogously, just like the suffering the Jivatman is undergoing at its separation from the Paramatman, the Paramatman too is all-eager to have the Jivatman reunite with Itself. Not only that, but just like Rama Himself engaged in war to kill Ravana and reunite with Sita, even so the Paramatman too is ever-active to ‘kill’ ahamkara and effect the Jivatman’s reunion with Itself. The Infinitude of the Paramatman Itself is backing the Jivatman’s Mukti [11]. What a powerful thought!

I felt empowered and infinitely reassured. Incidentally, the next verse expresses similar joyous sentiment on the part of Sita:

प्रभु संदेसु सुनत बैदेही ।

मगन प्रेम तन सुधि नहिं तेही ॥

Upon hearing Prabhu [Rama’s] message, Sita was overwhelmed with love and lost body-consciousness!

Although I am sure I could not gather as much intensity as Mother Sita, I did get a hint of this feeling of sheer joy myself.

A poem is born

Over the next few weeks I continued singing the verses, now with greater vigour and deeper appreciation. The intensity of the new insight kept growing on me. After a few weeks it occurred to me that I should pen something to share it with others.

However I was stuck even before I could start. I could write prose but I feared it would not convey the depth of my feelings adequately. As for poetry, I had neither education, nor training. However, against all odds, I took up the project. Perhaps, ‘misadventure’ would describe my undertaking more accurately, since not only would I attempt to write poetry, but also I chose a language that I know only cursorily – Avadhi. I thought I would style the poem after the Ramacaritamanasa, which was my inspiration anyway. In about a month’s time, spending around 30 minutes a day on an average, the poem was completed [12]: Ānandadhāma [13] Siyārāma (आनन्दधाम सियाराम).

While factually I am the poet, I claim no originality or credit. All aspects of the poem – the metres, the style, the devices, the diction – have all been taken, directly or indirectly, from Goswamiji’s inimitable work [14]. Even the very theme of the poem has been given by him, as explained earlier. As I read and reread the verses, I am unable to reconcile their origin in me. I feel there is a pool of bhaktibhāva [15] which is the common heritage of all bhakta-s, and I was somehow blessed with an access to it.

If the poem brings peace and joy to anyone, as it does to me, they have just their own bhakti and Goswamiji to thank and should rejoice to have touched the same common heritage where this poem has its origin.

[1] Hanumāna; literally, messenger of Rāma [2] Sītā; literally, beloved of Rāma [3] The dreadful destructive night of the dissolution of the phenomenal world [4] Of a breeze, characterized by three favourable features: coolness, gentleness and subtle fragrance [5] Deep, wild forest [6] Related to the realm and the contemplation of the Ātman, the Subject or the Self [7] The Divine Being, the Absolute, the Transcendental, the One beyond the realm of conceptuality or relativity [8] The Living Being, considered as a combination of the consciousness principle, Puruşa or Ātman, and the conceptuality principle, Prakŗti [9] From a bhakti point of view, Rama and Sita would be analogous to the Bhagawan and the bhakta respectively. [10] The deep constitutional principle of identifying oneself as an individual, an entity separate from the rest, taken as the very germ of one’s bondage to the phenomenal world. (Literally, I-ness, from Saṃskrita ahaṃ = I, the first person singular pronoun). [11] Realisation of one’s true Identity in Immortality and freedom from the bondage of life and death and other dualities [12] c. February 2023 [13] Abode of Ānanda, the Absolute Illimited Bliss of Self-realisation [14] Of course, the imperfections and the errors are all purely mine, and may be kindly disregarded in generosity. [15] Deep sentiment of bhakti (devotion to the Divine, characterized by self-surrender and unconditional love.)