DHANURDAS
[Playlet]
D.
V.
(Translated
from Telugu by B. RAJANIKANTA RAO)
CHARACTERS
Bhagavan
Sri Ramanuja Vishnuchitta
Dhanurdas:
Wrestler
Maruti
Hemangi:
His
wife Balayya
Madhava:
His
servant Andhra Purna
Parasara Gomatharya
Srinivasa
Pilgrim
devotees’ chorus.
Choodamma
Pilgrims
Beggar
Nancharamma
Seenayya
A
party of dancing girls.
PROLOGUE
(A HYMN)
In
him, who is mysteriously playful
in creating, nourishing and destroying the
whole universe,
In
him, who has sworn to be the protector of all
species of beings who
supplicate to him;
In
him, who is the unborn being shining above the
message of scriptures, in
Srinivasa
In
that Supreme Soul, let my brilliance
in the shape of unswerving devotion, ever
remain!
[Place:
Nichulapuri, that is Uraiyur. Home of Dhanurdas. Dhanurdas is seen in a humming mood.]
Hemangi:
So the madness has come down to the stage of singing too!
Dhanurdas:
(Tunefully) Hemangi, O Hemangi!
Hema, Hema, Hemangi! Doesn’t speak; give it up!
Hemangi:
How can one speak? If one is called half a dozen times in one single breath,
how can one respond? If at all I can guess whether it is a song or a calling.
Dhanurdas:
How can I rest without calling you...after such a long time since you went
inside?
Hemangi:
Such a long time? That’s making much of things! It couldn’t be more than ten
minutes.
Dhanurdas:
Why do you say that? Why should it be even ten minutes? Hema!
Don’t you have a yearning to look at me? You don’t seem to be having as much
affection as I have for you.
Hemangi:
(Coyly) Should you say like that? Can I care
less? You speak in that manner! Will it look nice if I expose myself
to such madness as you do?
Dhanurdas:
May it be ten minutes! But, how can you remain without looking at me?
(Sound
of knocking at the door and calling “Dhanurdas!”)
Hemangi:
Right thing at the right moment. Wouldn’t I see how you are kept away?
Dhanurdas:
Can you say the fellow who calls me like that has any brains? If I catch him by
the neck and shake just once, be would fall down like a lily stem.
(From
outside–servant calling “Dhanurdas, O Dhanurdas!”)
Dhanurdas:
Buddy, come. Come inside; don’t shout! What are you excited about? Why are you
dying for breath?
Madhava:
That wrestler from Kerala has arrived. Looks like invincible.
Six feet height! Broad shoulders. And legs like steel
girders!
Dhanurdas:
Enough! Shut up. Arrange for this evening. Let Chennappa
meet him in the bout...in our arena itself.
Madhava:
All right. But...
Dhanurdas:
Get out. (Shouts. Madhava
is frightened and runs away)
Hermangi: My God! How loud you have shouted, my lord! If you go on looking at me even while you were talking to Madhava, what would he think of us?
Dhanurdas:
Care two hoots about his dirty face. He is a monkey.
Hemangi:
No. Please think of it a while. Will it be good, if you go on looking at a
thing, always, however charming it might be? One must divert one’s looks to
other things also. Only thereafter your charming object will be more charming to
look at.
(“Dhanurdas ... Dhanurdas!”
call from outside. Hemangi
laughs, shaking the whole body.)
Dhanurdas:
Now this fellow will be strangled to death in my hands like a
crane, like a frail fox. Calls me not less than ten times whenever be
chooses...this wretched fellow Madhava!
... come in … come in (shouts)
Madhava:
(Panting for breath) Comes from
Dhanurdas:
Stop! Don’t describe further. Assign our Muneyya to
challenge him. Go. Why Don’t you go away? (Exit Madhava)…Hemangi…!
Hemangi:
(Laughing) Your one single yelling catapults
him into the street. My lord, can our people fight with all
these wrestlers?
Dhanurdas:
Yes, they can. But, there is one fellow in Andhra country. If he comes, I alone
will match.
Hemangi:
Why have so many wrestlers arrived here now, my dear?
Dhanurdas:
They are on their way to the spring festival in Srirangam.
Hemangi:
Is it a fact? Is it a fact? (Affectionately) Then my dear, I have a
desire. Will you do it? Promise! It is not enough if you just say “yes.” (Laughing)
Don’t nod your head. You would be diverted from looking at me. Say
“Promise” and lay your hand in mine.
Dhanurdas:
Promise. (Lays his hand in hers)
Hemangi:
Shh! Ahh! don’t pinch my palm dear...(with pain)
Dhanurdas:
Hey Madhava! We are leaving for Srirangam.
Make arrangements.
Madhava:
Then, how about the wrestling bout in the evening?
Dhanurdas:
Get out...dragging your feet like a cadaver. You dare advise me with your
brains and servant’s status. What a dirty face!
(Madhava goes out. Dhanurdas
sings. Exit Hemangi and Dhanurdas.)
SCENE
II
[Noises of festival crowd.
Lord Sriranganatha of Srirangam
is at the head of a procession. From a distance is heard sonorous Nagaswaram recital along with drum and bronze-beat. Dhanurdas and Hemangi enter the
procession. People go about, moving in groups and talking.]
Parasara:
Seenu, how far is the festival procession? What a huge
crowd!
Srinivasa: Look here Parasara! Procession seems to have reached the turning. It
is alright, but, who is he? What is the fun of his holding the umbrella to her,
while keeping on looking at her eyes? Is he a poet? He
does’t seem to care about the
festival.
Parasara:
Oh! It is Dhanurdas … of Uraiyur.
Well-known wrestler. She might be his wife or a
mistress. People refer to her as Hemangi.
Srinivasa: Whosoever
it might be, what is this show of umbrella and all that?
(The
crowd laughs)
Choodamma:
Dear me! Dear me! Have a look at that couple, Nancharamma.
Nanchar:
May you have the pleasure, Choodamma, of staring at
that pair of love-birds?
Choodamma:
It is alright if he holds the umbrella for her. He is the he-man, what else? He
might do whatever he likes. However much accomplished she might be, should she not feel shy? What is this
coquetry and fashion parade in the middle of the street? Would it not be
uncomfortable for us to witness? She must know how to feel shy.
Nanchar:
O blessed woman! What is all this? Out of all, why should you feel
uncomfortable? Poor dear! For her part, she appears to be feeling shy.
Although, Choodamma, what is it that has come to your
mind?
(Laughter
of women’s crowd)
Seenayya:
My God! this blessed couple is pushing me aside! What
is all this public flirtation? This festival and procession do not seem to mean
anything to them. He has trampled upon my foot. He has hurt my eye with his
umbrella. Why do you carry it in this congested crowd? Don’t you have brains! O
my God! what a bone-breaking push!
(Laughter
of crowd)
Dhanurdas:
Hemangi, don’t turn your head like that.
Sways
over your eyes, the cool shade of the blue umbrella held in my hand;
Envelops
around you, the warm shade of the stainless umbrella of my sleepless and ever
wakeful love;
My
dear, do not bend even a wee bit this side or that.
Hemangi:
Shhh...What is this...even here? People will laugh at
us My lord, to which village does that Bhajan party belong?
Srinivasa: Looks like
a poet. Poor fellow. I have already thought of it.
Parasara:
That is not the thing. The Bhajan party is coming.
Bhajan
Party:
To
the heavenly city on earth, you’re welcome O my lord;
Bring
all the treasures of priceless gems, you are having with
you;
For your sake and my sake and for the welfare of us all.
The
boon-giver has left the heaven, so, there he blesses us all!
In
the fountain stream of Cauveri, have a dip in the
Collecting
a variety of blossoms from the temple yard;
For
worshipping our Lord Hari, who presided over there
Along
with consort having a heart more delicate than fragrance!
Hemangi:
Oh, what a deep devotion is yours! Where do you come from?
Devotee: From the
country of Kalinga. We belong to Pithapuram,
mother. (Bhajan party moves away)
Hemangi:
Who are they, my Lord?
Dhanurdas:
Hema, come under the umbrella.
Hemangi:
Poor dear! How far are these widows coming from?
Widows chorus’:
Cauveri Ranga Ranga, my Lord, Kasturi Ranga Ranga
Would
not your queen appraise you of our supplication and save us?
Life
is reduced to half, my Lord, it’s a burden unbearable;
A guilt awaits at every step,
father, save us from fear!
Having
left the heavenly city, father, having crossed all universes;
To
wipe away my tears, have you come to protect me?
Unique
compassion is yours, my Lord, unique deity are you!
Unique
poor woman am I, father, incapable of even this song!
Hemangi:
Oh, what a nice song! Which is the country you come from?
Widow: We come from Orugallu in Telengana.
Dhanurdas:
Hemangi, why do you go far away?
Hemangi:
Wait a minute...a blind beggar is singing a good philosophic lyric. Please
listen.
Beggar: May it be of
green leaves, or even of golden bars,
Why
do you choose to live in a cage, O parrot?
May
you ascend the ladders of light,
ever, brightening the blue heavens parrot!
In
the heavenly city on the banks of the Viraja
There
is a park of orchids, parrot!
Hidden
behind the leaf and flower is
The
fruit of immortality, parrot!
Hcmangi:
Take this, old man. Which is the village you come from?
Beggar: My mother, my
mother, I come from Kamalapuram in Karnataka.
Hemangi:
My Lord, look at that group of dancing girls. How nicely she is acting before
the Lord! Which is the native place of this party?
Voice: We arc from
Kanchi. Our leader is Kamasundari.
(Song
of the dancing girls’ party)
What
is the worth of a woman’s birth?
O
woman it is but futile!
What
is the worth of one thousand
jasmine-white garments?
Of
what worth is it to don
the garlands of nine gems?
Of
what use, if one decorates
herself full of blossoms,
If
she is not in union with
Lord
Kasturi Ranga!
(Different
voices from the pilgrims’ crowd in the procession)
“Arrives,
the Lord Arrives! The Lord is giving Darsan”
Garudalvar! Garudalvar!” Is this not the
day of lion-riding
for the Lord? “O my father Ranga, Rangasayi,
Ranganatha, Rangayya,
Ranga, Ranga”
“Oh,
look up there! there comes Sri Ramanuja!”
The
great Yatiraja is amidst the devotees!
Oh,
he shines like the moon amidst the stars.”
(Then
the party reciting the Dravida devotional lyrics
arrives)
(Dravidian
devotional lyrics)
May
anyone wanting to know about Kannan,
understand that it means nothing
else except
the sacred name of Lord Narayana!
with the body shining like the saphire hill, the mouth like the coral reef and the eyes
like the red lotus
the indisplaceable,
worshipped by the immortals, and a pet of the cowherds;
rather than giving up the
taste of his grace, I wouldn’t mind refusing the taste of even Indra’s Heaven. O Lord of Srirangam;
the garden full of the buz
of the bees,
the garden where the peacocks revel in
dance,
the garden where the blue clouds throng;
the garden where the cuckoos sing,
the garden where the Almighty presides,
that is what Srirangam
is…a locket-piece on the bosom of the earth!
Snatch
away the edibles from the ignorants;
better feed the dog with them
(Tondaradippodi Alwar)
(The
noises of the procession, etc., move away further)
Sri Ramanuja: Vishnuchitta!
Vishnuchitta:
Yes, your worshipful!
Sri Ramanuja: Who is
that-man with the halo?
Vishnuchitta:
Whom is your worshipful referring to?
Sri Ramanuja: He who
holds the umbrella to the eyes of that woman.
Vishnuchitta:
He is a wrestler called Dhanurdas.
Maruti:
He comes from Uraiyur, master!
Balarya:
The woman is Hemangi, his wife.
Andhra Purna: Day and night, he keeps on looking at her eyes and
worshipping them. How do your worshipful see a halo around him?
Maruti:
Out of all people, if your worshipful speak in that
manner…
Balarya:
He is a mere womaniser.
Vishnuchitta:
He does all this in the very presence of Lord Ranganatha.
Sri
Ramanuja; Vishnuchitta.
Andhra Purna, my son Balarya,
look at his single-minded devotion which is not practicable even to a great
sage. Maruti, now, you say he is a slave of
that woman’s eyes. By evening today he will become a slave of the divine pair
of eyes. Gomatha, this evening you go to the choultry where he is putting up and bring him to the
Maruthi:
Master!
Balarya:
Lord!
Vishnuchitta:
Acharya, will he come?
Gomatharya:
Should he be brought to the temple?
Sri Ramanuja: Yes.
Without fail, he will come. I know, my son. I am visualising
clearly. Dhanurdas is a great devotee. Oh, what an
affection! What a determination! What a concentration! Dhanurdas
is the best of all devotees.
(From
a distance, music on Nagaswaram rises triumphantly
and in an exciting manner.)
[Evening. Ringing of the temple
bells is heard. In the
Gomatha:
Come on Dhanurdas, come into the temple. Why do you
hesitate?
Dhanurdas:
Master, may I know your good name?
Gomatha:
Gomatharya.
Dhanurdas:
May I guess that you are a disciple of Srimad
Ramanuja?
Gomatha:
I am a particle of dust of the great teacher’s sacred feet.
Dhanurdas:
Sir, really is it me, that the great teacher has invited?
Gomatha:
Yes, my son. It is his order. Unless one is virtuous one rarely gets it. Why do
you hesitate like that, Dhanurdas?
Dhanurdas:
Master, should I come?...Hema,
Hemangi...are you also coming?…Master, why does that
bell ring continuously like that?…Sir, are all these people devotees? Oh! Oh!
This sweet fragrance...does it come from the burning incense and lights from
within the sanctum? ...Hemangi, are you accompanying
me? Please be with me. Master, are they preparing here the sandal paste for
Lord Sriranganatha? How nice! Who has needled these
garlands? How nicely they have placed them in clusters! Sir, why are this
ringing of the bells, these fragrances, and the brilliance of all these lights
getting mixed up…getting merged into one halo in my mind? Master, why so many
lights?…Hemangi don’t leave
my hand. My God, what a crowd of pilgrims! Master, are all of them devotees of
the Lord? Is that the sanctum! Oh, ah…there, there...who...who...(hesitating)
Gomatha:
Dhanurdas, it is he, the great Guru, Srimad Ramanuja.
(Starts
in a slow soft distant voice, becomes gradually louder as if coming nearer, in
deep bass like thunder, melodiously set to a Raga, the prayers of Srimad Ramanuja in respect of the Lord’s cansort and the Lord are heard.)
Sri Ramanuja: (Prayer
to Goddess Lakshmi)
Whosoever
is bestowed with own form, beauty, talents, pomp, prosperity, character, and
all other endless, innumerable auspicious attributes quite appropriately
manifested according to the will of Lord Narayana,
whosoever resides in the lake of lotuses, Goddess, the presiding deity of
riches, eternally unendangered, unblemished, the
divine consort of the Lord of all immortals, the mother of all the universes,
my mother, the only refuge to the one, who has no refuge, to her I surrender,
and take refuge in her. (Silence for a moment)
Dhanurdas:
(With fear, in whispering voice) Master, shall I too come in.
Come in, Hemangi.
Sri Ramanuja: (Prayer
to God Narayana)
One
who is opposed to all detestable things,
Concentration
of all that is auspicious,
Who
is the personification of boundless, unspecified knowledge
–specifying
of all objects whether pertaining to self or beyond;
Who
takes the only form conforming to one’s own conception;
Who
is of unthinkable, divine, wonderful, eternal,
unblemished, unsurpassed
brilliance, beauty,
sweet fragrance, delicateness, elegance,
youthfulness
and other heavenly attributes;
endless wonder of a variety of
rarities appropriate to
one’s own self; eternal unblemished,
unsurpassed
fragrance, unsurpassed sense of
happiness of touch;
who is decorated by the crown, crown-piece,
ear-rings,
necklaces, garlands, armlets,
mole and amulet,
pearls, the yellow silk lower
garment and the golden zone,
and who has been the Almighty, the Super-man,
the Lord of Vaikuntha,
O
Lord, there is no other refuge for me excepting the pair of
your sacred feet, before which, I surrender
myself!
(Sri
Ramanuja gets into ecstasy, as he goes on further)
O
the great one wearing on his person, the sun, the moon and the stars
like the most precious jewels, the brilliance
of which
makes him look most elegant,
decorated with bracelets
anklets, crown, necklaces
and shining ear-rings, the magnificent
effulgence
of which encompasses the boundless horizons,
to you, I bow, to you, I bow, to you, I bow!
(Silence
for one moment)
Gomatharya:
Master of masters! Dhanurdas is taking refuge
in the pair of your sacred feet.
Sri Ramanuja: My
son, Dhanurdas.
Dhanurdas:
Master, I have come. My Lord, have you graciously ordered me to come? Is that
really me?...Hema ...are you
there?
Sri Ramanuja: (Affectionately)
Dhanurdas, have you come?
Dhanurdas:
Master! Is it me that you have ordered to come?
Sri Ramanuja: Dhanurdas, why have you taken so long?
Dhanurdas:
My Lord, quickly I came up to the temple campus. Ever since the morning, my
mind has not been quiet. It was not steady. When even the blind and deaf destitutes and beggars were calling “Ranga”,
“Ranga” I was not courageous enough to enter the
temple.
In spite of all, I
could not stay away my Lord; was it me that you asked to come?
Sri Ramanuja: Yes,
it is very much you; I wanted Dhanurdas to come.
Dhanurdas:
Master! It is me that you sent word for! How fortunate!
Saying, “Come, come and nourish us
O
compassionate master”
as the deaf and blind destitutes
waiting at the threshold
raise their beads and cry aloud,
some vague fear or hesitation
inside the heart pushed me
behind
then and there rang out the resonance of
your sublime invitation saying
“O
Dhanurdas, come in, my dear, come!”
Sri Ramanuja: (Smiling
with graciousness)
My
son, you do not know the way in which Sriranganayaka’s
graciousness manifests itself!
Standing
at the threshold
in the precincts of the home of
the Lord who lies down on the submarine
serpentine couch
and raising his full-throated voice,
if even the worst sinner calls aloud
“Ranga, Ranga,” the heaven
certainly
comes down with all parental affection!
Dhanurdas, who is this woman?
Dhanurdas:
My wife, Hemangi.
Sri Ramanuja: A real
beauty. Fine eyes! Dhanurdas, when our Lord Srirangadeva was moving in procession, were you not there
in the festival?
Dhanurdas:
Yes...Yes...Master...I... I…(stops
hesltatlngly)
Sri Ramanuja: You…?
Dhanurdas:
Myself and Hemangi. Hemangi
is my wife.
Sri Ramanuja: If that
is so, Dhanurdas, why should one come to the spring
festival and to the august presence of the Lord? Your looks do not appear to
have been turned at all to the Lord. Poor dear! How steadily you were holding
the umbrella to your wife! Were you not holding it only to protect her eyes? Dhanurdas, why did you hold the umbrella to her eyes?
Dhanurdas:
(Starting with hesitation and picking up courage gradually) My
Lord, there are no eyes more beautiful than those of Hemangi.
I am living for them. I cannot divert, even for a moment, my attention from
them. I do not know how long would I thrive, and what would happen to me
later…Diverting my look towards any other object, I don’t want to miss even a
single moment.
Sri Ramanuja: Dear me!
Dear me!...In case there are eyes more beautiful than
hers?
Dhanurdas:
There can’t be! They are nowhere.
Sri Ramanuja: If at all
there are?
Dhanurdas:
Only to them, day and night, I offer my service.
Sri Ramanuja: Well, Dhanurdas, first of all, look at me steadily.
Dhanurdas:
(After a second’s silence) Master, why are you looking at me like that?
Something within me is getting, dissolved. Some unknown power is possessing me. My Lord, My Lord!
(Pause
for a few moments)
Sri Ramanuja: (Steadily
and in deep bass voice) My son, Dhanurdas, look at that side...there, the divine pair of
eyes of Lord Sriranganayaka favouring
us with his august presence
...Oh great Lord, Srirangadeva!…
One eye is the
stupendous solar corona
emitting
ferocious fumes of summer heat;
While the other
autumnal lunar halo
of
cool misty veil;
You are the sovereign
of the universes, and
my
beloved merciful master;
and
now, where is the fear, if you open
the pair of eyes at once, O Ranganayaka!”
(Speaks in
a whispering voice) ...
Dhanurdas!
Dhanurdas:
Aha! (In a low ecstatic whisper) Aha!
(Voices of people
standing around exclaiming):
“Aha, aha” “Oho” “Oho”
“Look, Dhanurdas swooned!
Oh, what an enigma! Sri
Ramanuja is too furious and
too
cool at the same time”…Look, look, Dhanurdas
regains
consciousness and rises.” (Silence for a moment.)
Dhanurdas:
O Great Lord, Sriranganayaka (weeping)
“Have you no compassion
at all?
Why have you hidden all
these days,
the
lilting dance of the lightning curve of your
loving
looks
within
the corners of your eyes
unravelling your mysterious
playfulness?
Had I ever witnessed
the same wouldn’t I have
spurned
and come out of the stony immobility?
O Lord of Srirangam, ocean of blissful beauty,
wouldn’t
I have danced in raptures like a peacock?
(Still weeping) Father,
what a gracious favour you have
extended
to this Dhanurdas?
O my father, my life is
a wilderness burnt up since long;
from
the festoon of monsoon clouds
which
is verily the same as your side long glance
shining
with your graciousness be sprinkled at least once,
so
that, the fire of thirst is quenched and life becomes
a
bit cool...my Lord!
(Still weeping)
If the eyes become lily
blossoms,
the
line of collyrium ... a warm of bees
and
the fine look an arrow ...
what
else will be the outcome
except
devastation, deceit and distress? …
O unexpendable
ocean of compassion,
would
it unveil the paths inside the blind oblivion
or
erect new heavens before me, O Ranganayaka?
Merely one may
perceive some things
to
be eyes; or some to be blue lilies, but,
doesn’t
the coolness of a myriad dewy rays
surpass
and contain the effulgence of a myriad suns?
As I go on staring at,
where
can I discern your eye or sky?
what
is the basement of your feet?
where
is the basement of the sea?
I am unable to know
how could your formless self
at
all be contained in this pair of eyes?
Do you look without or
do you look within
and
from now on,
may
it be without or within
is
it light or delight
O Lord of Lakshmi,
I am unable to know
whether
it is blue depths or blue heights!
Sri Ramanuja: Dhanurdas, here is the sacred water sanctified by the touch
of Lord’s feet; come on, have it. Child Hemangi, you
too have it. Come on, come here. Parasara, Balarya, Gomatha and Vishnuchitta, all of you have it. Child Hemangi,
come here.
(Devotional
Chorus)
May
you triumph, may you triumph!
Lord
of Lakshmi, may you triumph!
Auspicious
ideal, may you triumph!
No
disease, no death, may you triumph!
Let
good hopes only prevail ever
Having
the pair of feet ever washed by
Honey
dripping from the blossoms which
Decorate
the heads of Suras and Asuras
May
you triumph, may you triumph!
You
are the harbour protecting ever
Movable
and immovable beings,
O
Lord full of grace, may you triumph!
O
Lord with sacred pair of feet,
Painted
red by the shining rubies
Of
the looks of holy sages
O
Lord wearing the garland of gems
Comprising
the sun, the moon and stars
Lying
on the serpent couch in milky-way
May
you triumph, may you triumph!
(
FINISH