Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Originally published in Bengali as Nrtya-Vádya-Giita Tine Saḿgiita,
   © 1987 by Ánanda Márga Pracáraka Saḿgha (Central)

© 2007 by Ánanda Márga Pracáraka Saḿgha (Central)

Registered office: Anandanagar
                              P.O. Baglata, Dist. Purulia, W.B.
                              India
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                              India

All rights reserved by the publisher. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the publisher.

ISBN 81-7252-250-9

Translated from the original Bengali by Viiresh Bose, Deváshiiśa and Ác. Priyashivánanda Avt.

Published by:
Publications Secretary (Central)
Ananda Marga Publications

Printed in India by:

Ác. Piiyúśánanda Avt.

and

Shree Kali Art Press
209 C Bidhan Sarani
Kolkata 700006

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

To the sacred memory of the late Ramnidhi Gupta (Nidhu Babu) and the late Ustad Alauddin Khan, two music maestros who brought about epoch-making changes in the world of music.

Shrii Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Shrii Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar understood the urgent need of cultural renaissance for the all-round progress of humanity. As a philosopher, following his own intuitive approach, he focused unprecedented light on various aspects of the cultivation of art, literature, and music. This light included revelations of the importance, for the human spiritual journey, of the discovery of aesthetic science; while one of his greatest contributions was to identify the science of supra-aesthetics and to explain how aesthetics is transformed into supra-aesthetics. And on the practical level, he on the one hand founded institutions that wholeheartedly and explicitly supported and encouraged various aesthetic pursuits; and on the other hand personally composed a body of songs called Prabháta Saḿgiita which finally came to total 5018 compositions. The present book is a compilation that consists of his discourses on the subject of saḿgiita, and also of various of his own Prabháta Saḿgiita songs.

Saḿgiita is the combination of song, dance and instrumental music, so the organization of this book that obviously suggested itself and that we have followed has been to present first the author’s discourses on saḿgiita as a whole, then his discourses on song, then his discourses on dance, and finally his discourses on instrumental music. Following some of the discourses are one or two of the author’s Prabháta Saḿgiita songs that were found to express nicely some of the themes of the preceding discourse. At the beginning of the book also one such song has been given, and at the end, another.

Prabháta Saḿgiita does not only mean songs written by Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar. The word prabháta also means “dawn”, so Prabháta Saḿgiita heralds the dawn of a new era of music. Shrii Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar used the charming and melodious medium of song to doubly ensure that the ideas in his discourses would penetrate the core of listeners’ beings and be translated thence into action. It is worth mentioning here that the author referred to his own Prabháta Saḿgiita songs in one discourse of this book, and also included one of his songs in another discourse.

Out of the vast body of Prabháta Saḿgiita songs (5018 songs in all) there are scores of songs which are in conformity with the contents of various discourses of this book. But only twenty of the most relevant songs have been selected and included.

The publishers would like to think of their work on this book as a very small part of the tribute that they should pay to the author in the year 2007, the silver jubilee year of Prabháta Saḿgiita.

The last four discourses of the Saḿgiita part of the book are on the subject of kiirtana. As the author writes, “So kiirtana is not just song. Dance is also a part of it, and instrumental music is also a part of it.” Therefore kiirtana is saḿgiita. And not only that, “. . . among all forms of saḿgiita, kiirtana is the best.”

Several of the discourses in the book consist of passages excerpted, for the sake of conciseness, from one or more longer discourses. In order to get a more complete idea of the author’s viewpoints on culture, art, literature, aesthetic science, etc., we suggest that the readers try to go through the full discourses.

The author himself selected the discourses for the original Bengali (1987) edition of this book. At the time of making the selection, he decided to change the titles of some of the discourses as compared to titles that had been used previously. This has resulted, in this English edition, in three discourse titles different from the titles used in some previous collection of discourses. In order to help researchers, we have mentioned, at the end of such discourses – along with the source book for the discourse – the original title of the discourse. To summarize that information here: the discourse “Are Saḿgiita and Supra-Aesthetic Science Inseparable?” has appeared previously as “Supra-Aesthetic Science and Music”, “What I Said in Switzerland” as “Dance, Mudrá and Tantra”, and “Táńd́ava Dance – What and Why?” simply as “Táńd́ava”.

To further assist researchers, it is our policy to indicate at the end of these publisher’s notes – in addition to the original language of each speech, the date and place, by whom it was translated, and where, if other than in this book, it was originally published – whether or not a tape of the speech is in existence. At the time of this printing, however, not all the cataloguing of tapes has been finished. Further information as to tapes will be given in future printings.

Footnotes by the translators have all been signed “–Trans.” Unsigned footnotes are those of the author.

Square brackets [   ] in the text are used to indicate translations by the editors or other editorial insertions. Round brackets (   ) indicate a word or words originally given by the author.

Acknowledgements

This book is the result of the assistance and support lent by many persons in various ways. Their sincere efforts are helping us develop an ever more professional system of work, so that the immense contribution of Shrii P.R. Sarkar can be presented in the best possible manner. Some esteemed readers, or better to say, lovers, of Shrii P.R. Sarkar’s books have come forward to make arrangements for the continuous publication of his books over the coming years; thanks to them, progress is being made in building up a committed and dependable sales network. Any interested person can come forward to participate in this effort.

Ideally every new book translation undergoes initially a draft by the main translator, then “first editing”, then “second editing”, then final verification. Other important functions include coordination of the different steps, and the development and management of a sales network. Some of those who have contributed to these efforts: Viiresh Bose translated (from the original Bengali) most of the excerpts from Shabda Cayaniká. Deváshiiśa translated “The Inner Science of Surasaptaka”, “Classifications of Flute” and the second part of “Two Folk Songs – Bhát́iyáli and Bháoyáiá”, and did the final editing of two discourses. Prof. Áditya Mohanty translated the first part of “Two Folk Songs – Bhát́iyáli and Bháoyáiá” and “Táńd́ava Dance – What and Why?” Ácárya Priyashivánanda Avadhúta translated all twenty Prabháta Saḿgiita songs and did the first editing of all portions of the book that had not previously been published in English. Gáyattrii Ghista and Táraka Ghista did the second editing of all portions of the book that had not previously been published in English. Mádhava Basak did typing, DTP work and office work. Avadhútiká Ánanda Gaorii Ácáryá checked and edited ten Prabháta Saḿgiita songs. Shrii Vasanthan Parameswara proofread the entire book after its second editing. Ácárya Nityasatyánanda Avadhúta checked several music-related points for which he was best qualified. Kirit Dave took on sales management and coordination work.

We are also indebted to many others who gave constant encouragement and necessary inputs. Final verification and parts of other tasks were done by the staff of Ananda Marga Publications.

If any defects be found, readers may be sure that they do not derive from the illustrious author, nor are they the responsibility of those who contributed to the work; rather they are the responsibility of the Publications staff alone.

Sources

“Shiva – The Embodiment of Saḿgiita”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Komale-Kat́hore” in Namah Shiváya Shántáya, 1982. First English publication as part of “Shiva – Both Severe and Tender” in Namah Shiváya Shántáya, 1982. Third English publication as part of “Shiva – Both Severe and Tender” in Namah Shiváya Shántáya, 1995, tr. from the original Bengali by ÁVA, Avadhútiká Ánanda Rucirá Ácáryá and ÁAA.

“Saḿgiita as Soft Expressions of Art”. Original language, date and place not identified. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Mánuśer Sáhitya o Shilpa Sádhaná”. First English publication as part of “The Practice of Art and Literature” in Abhimata: The Opinion, 1973. Third English publication as part of “The Practice of Art and Literature” in Prout in a Nutshell 10, 1987, tr. from the original Bengali by ÁVA and Jayanta Kumár.

“Song, Dance and Instrumental Music”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as “Giita, Vádya o Nrtya” in Abhimata Part 3, 1984. First English publication in A Few Problems Solved 3, 1988, tr. by ÁVA and Avadhútiká Ánanda Mitrá Ácáryá.

“Aesthetic Science and Saḿgiita”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as “Nandana Vijiṋána” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 17, 1981. [[First English publication in Prout in a Nutshell 10, 1987. Retr.]] from the original Bengali by VB.

“Are Saḿgiita and Supra-Aesthetic Science Inseparable?” Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as “Mohana Vijiṋána Kii?” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 15, 1980. First English publication as “Supra-Aesthetic Science and Music” in A Few Problems Solved 4, 1988, tr. from the original Bengali by ÁVA and Avadhútiká Ánanda Mitrá Ácáryá.

“Kiirtana: The Panacea for All Afflictions”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in English in the booklet “The Bliss of Kiirtana”, 1982, tr. from the original Bengali by Avadhútiká Ánanda Mitrá Ácáryá. First Bengali publication as “Kiirtana Mahimá – 1” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 22, 1985.

“Kiirtana Dispels Calamities”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in English in the booklet “The Bliss of Kiirtana”, 1982, tr. from the original Bengali by Avadhútiká Ánanda Mitrá Ácáryá. First Bengali publication as “Kiirtana Mahimá – 2” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 22, 1985.

“Serve the Supreme by Kiirtana”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in English in the booklet “The Bliss of Kiirtana”, 1982, tr. from the original Bengali by Avadhútiká Ánanda Mitrá Ácáryá. First Bengali publication as “Kiirtana Mahimá – 3” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 22, 1985.

“Where My Devotees Sing”. Discourse in Hindi. Originally published in Hindi as “Madbhaktá Yatra Gáyanti” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 8, 1993. First English publication in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 9, 2007, tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa.

“The Inner Science of Surasaptaka”. Discourses in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as parts of “A”, “Á” and “Á” (Discourses 9, 10 and 11) in Varńa Vicitrá 2, 1984. Tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa and ÁPA.

“The Musical Octave and Kúrma Nád́ii”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Guńagán” in Shabda Cayaniká 24, 1990. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“The Cosmic Ideation and Unit Ideation of Rágas and Rágiińiis”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Khańd́aparshu” in Shabda Cayaniká 13, 1987. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“Dhrupadii Style of Music”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Case Ending – 2” in Varńa Vijińána, 1983, tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa.

“Meditative Songs Heard from Afar”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Gátu” in Shabda Cayaniká 22, 1989. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“Saḿgiita”. Discourses in Bengali and English. First excerpt originally published in Bengali as part of “Gandharva” in Shabda Cayaniká 19, 1988. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB. Second excerpt originally published in Bengali as part of “Prajiṋá Sampad – 5” in Prajiṋá Sampad, 1981. First English publication as part of “The Faculty of Knowledge – 5” in The Faculty of Knowledge, 1984, tr. from the original Bengali by ÁVA.

“The Virtuoso Of Saḿgiita”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Gáyan” in Shabda Cayaniká 22, 1989. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“Vaekharii Power”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Galavaekharii” in Shabda Cayaniká 21, 1989. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“The Practice of Songs – Sore Throat and Its Remedy”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Gáninii” in Shabda Cayaniká 22, 1989. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“Komalagiiti – Soft-Sounding Songs”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Komalagiiti” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA and ÁAA.

“Carnatic Music”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Kodańd́a” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

“Baul, Jhumur and Kiirtana Songs of Ráŕh”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Chapter 25” in Sabhyatár Ádibindu – Ráŕh, 1981 (“Chapter 24” in the 2004 edition). First English publication as part of “Chapter 25” in Ráŕh: The Cradle of Civilization, 2004, tr. from the original Bengali by VB and ÁAA.

“Two Folk Songs – Bhát́iyáli and Bháoyáiá”. Discourses in Bengali. First excerpt originally published in Bengali as part of “Yatamána” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 10, 1980. First English publication as part of “Yatamána – The Stage of Perseverance” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 10, 2007, tr. from the original Bengali by Prof. Áditya Mohanty. Second excerpt originally published in Bengali as part of “U” (Discourse 21) in Varńa Vicitrá 3, 1984. Tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa.

“What I Said in Switzerland”. Discourse in English. Originally published in English as “Dance, Mudrá and Tantra” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 12, 1980.

“Táńd́ava Dance – What and Why?”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as “Táńd́ava” in Ánanda Vacanámrtam 10, 1980. Tr. from the original Bengali by Prof. Áditya Mohanty.

“Koramudrá – Kaomudii Dance”. Discourses in Bengali. First excerpt originally published in Bengali as part of “Kora” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA. Second excerpt originally published as part of “Kaomudii” in Shabda Cayaniká 9, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA.

“Mudrá”. Discourse in English. Originally published in English as part of Learned and Educated section of “Talks on Education” in Prout in a Nutshell 18, 1980.

“Fine Arts and Mudrá”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Kriyá” in Shabda Cayaniká 10, 1987. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA and ÁAA.

“Ektárá – One-Stringed Musical Instrument”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Kolamba” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA.

“The Science of Instrumental Music Has Multifarious Expressions”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Ekaváda” in Shabda Cayaniká 2, 1985. First English publication as part of “Eka to Ekáuṋga” in Shabda Cayaniká 2, 1995, tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa.

“Classifications of Flute”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Kola” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by Deváshiiśa

“Invention of Various Musical Instruments”. Discourse in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali as part of “Końa” in Shabda Cayaniká 8, 1986. Tr. from the original Bengali by VB.

All Prabháta Saḿgiita songs. Songs in Bengali. Originally published in Bengali in numerical sequence in twenty-five-song Prabháta Saḿgiita booklets, 1982-1990. Second Bengali publication in five-hundred-song Prabháta Saḿgiita books, 1994-2003. Some of the songs underwent a third publication in a second edition of some of the books. Tr. from the original Bengali by ÁPA.

Key:
ÁVA = Ácárya Vijayánanda Avadhúta
VB = Shrii Viiresh Bose
ÁPA = Ácárya Priyashivánanda Avadhúta
ÁAA = Ácárya Acyutánanda Avadhúta

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáne jegechile tumi práńe,
Jágále bhuvane.
Tomár giitir parashe savái meteche haraśe
Bhará mane práńe.

He sraśt́á, rúpakár, surakár,
Átmár átmiiya savákár.
Sav sattár tumi samáhár
Asiimer madhu rańane.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 25/1/85

With songs You arose in the heart,
Awakening the universe.
Stirred by Your music, minds and hearts are filled
And all are rapt in joy.

You exist so we exist;
In Your melody we dance in bliss.
We have loved You alone
In the vibrations of the Divine.

O Creator, Architect and Composer,
The kin of all souls,
Of all entities You are the composite,
Amidst sweet reverberations of the Infinite.

Chapter 1	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

In my previous discourse I said that humans came onto this earth about one million years ago. But human civilization is at the most fifteen thousand years old. If the first mańd́ala [chapter] of the ancient Rgveda is accepted as the starting-point of civilization, then the age of civilization will not exceed fifteen thousand years. But the civilization of those ancient days was not like the one we see in our times. The humans of those days merely followed a few rules and regulations in certain areas – no more than that.

Shiva was born about seven thousand years ago – about eight thousand years after the beginning of the composition of the Rgveda, that is, during the last part of the Rgvedic Age and the first part of the Yajurvedic Age. The civilization we see in the age of the Rgveda may be considered as pre-Shiva, and the civilization we find in the days of the Yajurveda as post-Shiva. From what we observe in the early and medieval periods of the Rgveda, we can conclude that a well-regulated social order was not yet evolved. Social life was not at all systematized.⁽¹⁾

Shiva observed that in the days of the Rgveda, chanda [metre] was known, but rágas and rágińiis [melodies of Oriental music] were not yet invented. Not just any composition with rhythm qualifies to be called music! Suppose people are making dissonant sounds in a particular rhythm – that certainly will not be considered music.

There were seven metres in the Vedic Age, from the days of the Rgveda. Those seven rhythms were gáyattrii, uśńiik, triśt́up, anuśt́up, jagati, brhatii and pauṋkti. The “Savitr Rk” [dedicated to Parama Puruśa, Supreme Consciousness] in the tenth súkta [composition] of the third mańd́ala of the Rgveda, is composed in Gáyattrii chanda. Sometimes people mistakenly call the Gáyattrii chanda, “Gáyattrii Mantra”.

[[So the people of those days were acquainted with chanda, but not with the surasaptaka [seven-note Oriental musical scale]. After close observation, Shiva concluded that the sounds produced by the mouths and tongues of various birds and animals maintain a harmonious adjustment with the undulations of the sound waves of the universe. The eighth step, the eighth note, of this harmony comes very close to the first note.

Based on the sounds of seven creatures, Shiva evolved the surasaptaka. This seven-note scale, which made the rhythm sweeter and more graceful, includes the sounds of śad́aja [peacock], rśabha [ox], gándhára [goat], madhyama [horse], paiṋcama [cuckoo], dhaevata [ass] and niśáda [elephant]. By taking the initials of the seven sounds – sá from śad́aja, re from rśabha, gá from gándhára, má from madhyama, pá from paiṋcama, dhá from dhaevata and ni from niśáda – Shiva made the surasaptaka sá-re-gá-má-pá-dhá-ni; and at the eighth step, the first sound is repeated, although on a different level [of pitch]. In those regions of the world where the influence of Shiva was less, there, in the eighth note of this surasaptaka, there is a little difference (through permutation and combination, endless varieties of sound can be produced), so the second sá is not exactly the same as the first, so in [Western] music, we find do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do: in other words, do is repeated, and it is counted as part of the scale. That is why instead of saying surasaptaka ["seven-note musical scale"] [Western] musicians call their scale an "octave".⁽²⁾]]

Thus by inventing the seven musical notes, Shiva made the world of rhythms sweeter and more delightful. This was no ordinary achievement.

The music of the present-day world is entirely based on these seven musical notes. It is a matter of great regret that people have forgotten this science of music, whose foundation was laid by the intense efforts of Shiva. Nowadays, instead of considering music as a valuable asset to spiritual practice, they take it as a hobby, a means of livelihood, or a mere pastime. The arduous effort which Shiva invested in this science is conspicuously absent today. Some people lament this, saying,

Ár ki Bhárate áche se yantra
Ár ki áche se mohana mantra
Ár ki áche se madhura kańt́ha
Ár ki áche se práń,
Sethá ámi kii gáhiba gán!

[I wonder where in India are those perfect musical instruments –
Where are those charming notes?
Where is that melodious voice?
Where is the soul of music?
Alas, what music shall I sing there?]

To that my reply is: If the followers of Shiva make even one percent of the progress Shiva made, then India and indeed the world and the universe will surely regain that melodious voice and those charming notes. There is no reason for disillusionment. If people only develop their vigour, discipline and simplicity, and make intense effort, then success will come automatically. The lost treasure of the past will be fully restored to human society.

Shiva did not give a systematic form to music only – even to this day people utilize the fruits of His research in the field of phonetics. Phonetics depends on the science of breath, on inhalation and exhalation. Also on the basis of the science of breath, Shiva invested the world of rhythm with mudrá.⁽³⁾ He established harmony between rhythm and dance, and added mudrá to them.

In the pre-Shiva society of the Rgvedic Age, there was chanda, but no mudrá. In order to acquire proficiency in the study of the Vedas, the student had to master the six vedáuṋgas, the six branches of Vedic knowledge: chanda [the science of metre], kalpa [explanation of rites], nirukta [lexicography], jyotiśa [astronomy/astrology], vyákarańa [grammar], and áyurveda or dhanurveda [the science of medicine]. This proves that the people of that time were well acquainted with chanda.

Then how did Shiva introduce mudrá in music? He observed that in the bodies of different creatures, the various glands were either over-active or under-active, either over-secreting or under-secreting. As a result, these creatures expressed themselves in various ways. Shiva intensively researched all these factors, and finally invented mudrá. Each and every mudrá affects certain human glands in a particular way and thus influences people’s minds accordingly. This was Shiva’s contribution to the world of dance. In those days, people wrongly considered the random movement of the limbs to be dance; later, to this random movement of the arms and legs, were added a few Vedic rhythms. But that certainly cannot be accepted as classical dance. Only after the addition of mudrás was it elevated to the status of classical dance.

Regarding the táńd́ava dance invented by Shiva, I will speak a bit later.

Then again, the mere beating of drums is not the art of vádya [percussion]. This should be harmonized not only with chanda and the musical scale, but also with the rhythms and mudrás of the dance. Shiva Himself added all this to the art of percussion; prior to Him, it was completely unknown.

Shiva did not merely invent nrtya, giita and vádya [dance, song and instrumental music]; He also spread the knowledge of music among the people. He selected Maharshi Bharata as an ideal candidate and said to him, “You must teach the science of music to anyone who wants to learn it, without any consideration of caste or community. You should consider only one thing: whether or not the person has the deep inner urge to learn.” Shiva gave a systematic form and definite structure to everything which was not well-formulated until then. He provided a system not only for music but for each and every expression of human life, so that everything might progress in a rhythmic way, so that nothing would be done haphazardly.

Footnotes

(1) [[Four-and-a-half paragraphs omitted here. –Trans.]]

(2) From the Latin word for [[“eighth”]]. –Trans.

(3) Mudrás are subtle, symbolic gestures characteristic of Oriental dance. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáner e gauṋgottarii ságarer páne dháy,
Kona upaler bádhá e máne ná,
Sumukhe path kare jáy.

Dhvanir neiko sheś nei gánero,
Jeman neiko sheś jiivanero.
Egiye calái káj bhule sav bhaya-láj
Bheuṋge andhakár káráy.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 23/2/85

This perennial river of song races on to the ocean,
Heeding no pebbly barriers,
Eternally coursing ahead.

Sound emerges from an unkonown beginninglessness,
Drifting along currents of time.
Facing numerous obstacles over rugged paths;
This river dances upon streams of melody.

Sound and song are endless, as is life,
Their mission is to forge ahead,
Forgetting fear and shyness,
Smashing shackles of darkness.

[Here the author’s response becomes clear to the doubts expressed in the poem he has quoted above.]

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Tumi esechile viińá bájiyechile,
Jhauṋkár tár ájo bhese jáy,
Sur shikhiyechile gán shuńiyechile,
Se viińár tár manejhalkáy.

Jáo niko tuni dúre, ácho save ghiire ghiire,
Maner maiṋjuśáy tava priiti guiṋjare.
Se tomár rúpe ráge shváshvata anuráge
Varńa varńátiite muracháy.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 5/9/86

You came, playing a viińá,
Whose humming resonance lingers still.
You taught tunes, sang songs,
In our minds Your viińá’s sound resounds.

You left, having mesmerized the earth,
Stirred after long slumber into inexpressible ecstasy,
In Your inner expressions, in Your stirring endless flows,
Golden streams shower upon our hearts.

Never drifting far, encircling all, ever remaining near,
In our mind’s casket Your love reverberates.
In Your beauty and love, in everlasting affection,
All colours dissolve into That beyond hue.

[As the author will explain in later articles, the inventor of the viińá was Lord Shiva.]

Chapter 2	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

As the sense of subtle aesthetics developed in human beings in the course of evolution, a desire to create art also awakened in them. The artist’s ideal is to be established in transcendentality beyond the bounds of the sensory world. So artists, or more precisely, worshippers of fine art, have to be spiritual aspirants if they want to move in the right direction. The cultivation of fine arts by those who have not developed spiritual sentiment or accepted the spiritual ideal as the goal of life is merely a mockery. Only those who look upon all worldly things from a spiritual perspective can realize in everything the blissful Transcendental Entity. The greater the realization of this Transcendental Entity, the greater the understanding of one’s oneness with that Entity, and thus the greater one’s success in the creation of art.

The successful creation of art is absolutely impossible for those who do not seek that subtle Entity, even though they possess some capacity to create. Such people’s thought processes go adrift, like a sailboat with a torn sail. Their mental aberration is reflected in all of their writings, which ultimately become strange and grotesque.

Besides this, in the individual lives of such artists there occurs a serious catastrophe. In the battle between their transitory sense of aesthetics and their desire for material happiness, their strength of character gets destroyed by the tension between the subtle and the crude. That is why we find that in the history of the world those who lacked purity or spiritual ideals and spiritual austerity, no matter how great their genius as poets, sáhityikas or artists, no matter what reputation they earned in their respective fields of art, could not command respect and prestige as human beings in society due to their loose characters. It is due to lack of strength of character that the talents of many good singers, actors and other kinds of artists have prematurely withered away before attaining full development.

As mentioned above, the greater the contact with transcendentality, the greater the success of the artist, for knowingly or unknowingly the human mind is seeking transcendentality. People yearn for the unknown; they cannot remain content with the known. Thus where there is an endeavour to create art merely out of the events of daily life, it does not appeal to the intuitional faculty of the human mind.

Can there be an artist without genius? Is art the result only of sincere endeavour, of hard labour? Quite a knotty question! I think the answer lies in the inherent spiritual thirst of human beings. In other words, a genius is born into this world with a powerful innate spiritual hunger, whether he or she realizes it or not. For those who do not have this spiritual hunger, the endeavour to become artists by effort and labour alone is absolutely useless. But then, if a person who has no creative genius succeeds in kindling his or her spiritual urge and desire for the infinite, it will not be impossible for him or her to develop genius.

Naturalness and Unnaturalness in Art

Another question which has started to be discussed is the question of naturalness in art. According to many, art should faithfully express itself in the same natural way that, for example, people normally eat, sleep and talk; otherwise, they say, it will be defective. In the field of drama much emphasis is being given to this idea these days. This has also affected recitation and other forms of artistic expression. But I cannot fully agree with this view.

Depending upon the theme and nature of the topic, the introduction of diversity in theatrical expression is quite natural. To express crude ideas one must resort to crude language, crude gestures and crude forms of expression in daily life. These, however, cannot be employed to give expression to subtle feelings. For this a particular language, a particular diction and particular gestures will be necessary. Then it will be easy to appreciate the beauty of the dramatic performance at its face value, instead of looking at it as an expression of naturalness.

Actually, the vivid presentation of the artist’s ideas is of primary importance, and to achieve this any means should be adopted. We should not be too concerned with naturalness or unnaturalness; none of the illustrious actors of the world have ever worried about this point. The dogmatic assertion about the importance of naturalness in art has not come from the mouths of important personages of the theatrical world, but from petty people with superficial knowledge.

The combination of language and mudrá [gesture] that makes acting successful must be fully utilized by the actors. To maintain naturalness one should not use confused or incoherent language or make the characters gesture-less and awkward. In individual life, in our so-called natural state, we seek to express our inner ideas, and often the communication of these ideas to others is secondary. In a dramatic performance, however, this communication is of primary importance.

Music

The same holds true for music. The combination of giitá- vádyá-nrtya [song, instrumental music and dance] is called saḿgiita [“music”]. When a song is composed only to express the laughter and tears of ordinary life, it is not very difficult to convey this to the ears and hearts of the people; the song discharges its responsibility well enough using ordinary language and melody. But where the feelings and sensibilities are deep and subtle – where one has to create vibrations in the molecules and atoms of the body, in the chords of the heart – the music has to follow an extraordinary path. Hence, to those who are incapable of ingesting the subtle feelings of the science of music, the álápa [introductory portion of a classical piece] will be nothing but prálápa [delirious raving].

If music must descend to the ordinary level of life to conform to the desire for naturalness, then pre-eminence will be given to doggerels, and the sweetness and charm of real music will become extinct. Indeed, the music that is in vogue in the world today in the name of popular music is nothing but doggerels of this type, though expressed in better language. Language, rhythm and melody are indispensable parts of a song – one cannot exclude any one of them. (The difference between a song and instrumental music is that songs are comprised of rhythm, melody and language, but in [Indian] instrumental music rhythm is predominant, melody is subordinate and language is absolutely nil.)

Dance and Recitation

Dance is customarily divided into two categories: gestural and rhythmic. Many people are loathe to accept that gesture-less, rhythmic dance can be considered dance at all. If one looks at the characteristics of dance, one must admit that both gestures and rhythm are important components of a dance: the gestures give expression to the inner sentiment, and the rhythm gives it dynamism. If dance has only gestures but is devoid of rhythm, it is called pantomime, not dance. And dance devoid of gestures is merely a form of physical exercise – it is not art.

The greatest difference between recitation and acting is that in acting there is both language and gesture, while recitation consists of language only. Thus in acting there is greater scope for the expression of refined aesthetic taste than in recitation.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Bháv khuṋjechila bháśá,
Bháśá ceyechila sur;
Bháv chot́e bhávátiite,
Sur náce ghire’ tava núpur.

Tomáre cinechi ámi,
Kena je esecha námi’;
Nece’ calo náhi thámi’,
Kare’ jata klesh dúr.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 9/10/84

Ideation looked for expression,
Expression yearned for melody;
Ideation surges towards the Transcendental,
Melody dances around Your ankle-bells.

You came in the radiance of love,
Filled me with myriad rhythms,
With a jingling sound, You intoxicated my heart
That had been sad and sullen.

I now recognize You,
I now realize why You have descended;
Keep dancing without pause,
Removing all my afflictions.

Chapter 3	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Once a certain boy asked me to say something on music and dance. I said that the subject was very interesting, that I would write an essay on it in the future – that would be better. Now I will only say something in brief.

Everyone knows that Sadáshiva was the original propounder of the science of music in this world. The same Sadáshiva was the propounder of Áyurveda, the science of medicine. At the same time He invented dances, songs, the science of instrumental music and many other things. Besides these, He found the link between the exhalation and inhalation of breath on one side, and dance, song and instrumental music on the other. This is called Svara Shástra. The collective name of dance, song and instrumental music is saḿgiita, or music. The word giita is derived from the root gae plus the suffix-kta. Now the question is, why was Sadáshiva so interested in the arts of dance, song and instrumental music?

I have already said on many occasions that ours is a subjective approach with objective adjustment – that is, to proceed through objective adjustment towards the fundamental cause. Adjustment means to arrange everything in such a way as to be acceptable. For instance, while cooking something, an expert cook always takes care that things are neither salty, pungent nor sour: everything is in proper proportion. For instance, while preparing pulses (legumes), additional spices are fried in cooking oil and then the whole thing is thoroughly mixed into the dish. This is called Sambára [mixing] or santulan in Bengali. Actually, Santulan means to bring a mixture to the point of being tasty.

When Sadáshiva introduced the science of intuitional practice, He had to keep in mind that there must be adjustment in the objective life of those who followed Dharma sadhana. In the absence of this adjustment, the mind becomes irritated and degenerates, and no concentration in sadhana is possible for such a mind. Thus Shiva selected three things which are very much in use in the objective world but which are, at the same time, immensely helpful in spiritual life as well: these three are collectively known as saḿgiita, of which the first part is giita, or song.

Songs [vocal] are rooted in the physical world, but their impact is on the subtler layers of the human mind. The mental world is the ectoplasmic world, the world composed of ectoplasmic stuff (cittáńu). Songs produce a vibrational wave which makes our mental waves straight, and these straightened mental waves in turn ultimately touch the point of the soul. Now to touch the embodied soul, the songs must have rhythm, melody and feeling (bháva). If there is no feeling, the song will lack sweetness. Therefore, songs must have deep ideas.

Simultaneously, Lord Shiva invented two more things: vádya [playing of instruments] and nrtya [dance]. What is vádya? Indo-Aryan music is divided into two main schools: Hindustani music and Deccan or Carnatic music. The basic characteristics of those two schools of music are that, based on specific rágas or rágińiis, they give expression to different feelings. Then again, there are other sub-schools of music. Each person tries to please Parama Puruśa in a particular style which is unique to him or her; these styles are known as gharáńás. In Bengal there is Viśńupuri gharáńá. In kiirtana there are different musical styles or gharáńá, such as Manoharshahi, Ranihati, Garanhata, Mandaran,⁽¹⁾ etc.

The speciality of these gharáńás is that they channelize a specific mental feeling towards the Supreme Desideratum through the structures of the rágas and rágińiis. Songs have bháva [suggestive meanings] and rhythm and melody also. But their soul is Bháva.

Vádya [playing of musical instruments] is not like that. Then what is the role of vádya? It vibrates the mind and hence directly vibrates the ectoplasm and maintains parallelism with bháva. Once vádya loses its basic property to maintain parallelism with bháva, it becomes useless.

Now, regarding dance: dance expresses inner psychic feelings through chanda [rhythm] and mudrá [specialised gestures], without the help of language or words. In occidental dance, there is more beauty in rhythm. But oriental dance utilizes both rhythm and mudrá. These mudrás because of their close association with rhythmic qualities, have become more expressive and beautiful than the rhythmic occidental music. For instance, when we offer something, we perform a particular mudrá which is called sampradán mudrá. Similarly, there are other mudrás which also indicate different styles of offering, for example, prakśepa and such type of mudrás. We can offer things in any style we choose; we can direct a person to stop with a variety of mudrás also. Here we express ourselves without the use of words.

Now, how do these mudrás originate? The source of all sound is Paráshakti [primordial desire for expression], which is such a vast entity that it cannot be explained in words. Next comes madhyamá shakti, in which we try to translate the bháva or mental form into action. The next stage is vaekharii shakti. When translating bháva into action, we need to take the help of our vocal cords. Then comes dyotamáná shakti. At first we try to express something: we may or may not be able to do so. In your own life, sometimes you might have experienced that you are unable to exactly remember a person, for instance Hari Babu, whom you have seen numerous times: you feel that you have something in your mind to express, but you cannot give any outward expression to your mental image. This is dyotamáná shakti, that is, feelings that you actually want to express.

The last stage is shrutigocará shakti. Now the characteristic of dance is to use mudrás to give expression to this last item, that is shrutigocará shakti, without the help of words. The mudrás of dance are directly related to the ectoplasm: thus the specialities of oriental dance are easily appreciated by all.

Now, for objective adjustment in the physical world, Shiva propounded song, dance and instrumental music in such a manner so that it would directly vibrate the ectoplasm, so that the ectoplasmic movement converges into one point touching the soul point. That is why great people of all ages have encouraged all three aspects of music. In the history of saints, it is known that Maharśi Nárada played violin, sang songs and danced at the same time. In more recent times, Mahaprabhu Caetanya Deva also encouraged these three things: he said that the lyrics of the song should directly reflect Parama Puruśa Himself. And this category of song, directly reflecting Parama Puruśa is known as kiirtana. The other category of song that also reflects Parama Puruśa, but which expresses many ideas before returning to the one central idea of Parama Puruśa, is called bhajana. This is the basic difference between bhajana and kiirtana. In this respect, I fully agree with the previous propounders: I also encourage these three things.

Now lalita mármik dance can maintain adjustment with kiirtana without causing fatigue in the human body. That is why lalita is prescribed in kiirtana. Mahaprabhu also prescribed it as part of kiirtana. Now, mármik means that which touches the innermost recesses of the heart: so it is called lalita mármik. The inventor of this lalita dance was Parvati: Shiva himself did not invent it. He did invent táńd́ava however. The inner motivation of táńd́ava is the following: “Destruction is inevitable, but I will continue to fight against destruction through struggle.” So there is a skull in one hand and a dagger in the other. The skull represents destruction, and the dagger represents fight. The underlying feeling is, “I will not surrender to destruction or death. I will continue the struggle with this dagger.”

Furthermore, it is found that human beings are sometimes affected by various minor diseases; therefore they face minor, if not major, difficulties in practising sadhana. For instance, many small diseases such as liver trouble may cause problems from time to time, and to remove these types of hindrances, I invented the kaośikii dance on the 6th of September 1978. This dance serves as an antidote to twenty-two types of disease. All these things are intended to accomplish the following through objective adjustment: to stir the ectoplasmic stuff, to vibrate it, and finally to concentrate it at a point and to touch Parama Puruśa.

This is, broadly speaking, a reply to the question of the boy. If I am to reply in greater detail, I will write a longer essay on the subject, which I propose to do in the future.

Footnotes

(1) They are names of different places where these gharáńás developed. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Ácha chande ácha táne,
Ácha nrtye ácha gáne;
Ácha hatásháy hatamáne,
Ácha hiyá-bhará abhimáne.

Hena kichu nái játe tumi nái,
Jáhá kichu pái tava karunái;
Tava krpákańá vahiyá veŕái,
Jiivaner prati shváse prati manane.

Gadaipur, Delhi, 28/2/84

You are in rhythm, You are in the resonance of music,
You are in dance, You are in song,
You are in despair, You are in a slighted soul,
You are in a heart laden with suppressed agony.

You are in the heart of the desert, You are in dry streams,
You are in the branches of trees, You are in fresh colours,
You are in language filled with love,
You are in our invocation of the dawn.

Nothing exists where You do not exist,
Whatever I receive is through Your kindness alone,
I carry a particle of Your grace
In every breath, in every thought of my life.

Chapter 4	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You know something about aesthetic science. There are subjects that are not expressed in normal language; subtler feelings are expressed through the most subtle modes of expression. Suppose I saw some particular thing for a certain length of time and enjoyed it. The feeling behind such enjoyment, i.e., the bháva or idea – the reason why I liked it – all these when expressed through sweet, subtle language are what is called aesthetic science. Flowers can be put in a haphazard way on the floor of a house. However, if you instead pick up the flowers and arrange them meticulously in a decorative style, it will come within the purview of aesthetic science. Tables and chairs are not sparse in your house; rather they are at sixes and sevens. The sight is not pleasing. If you regroup them fashionably, it will come under the category of aesthetic science. Suppose you want to convey to others the intrinsic beauty of all things that gives delight to every one. You may arrange those things artistically, or you may not only arrange them, but also convey them to others in a very sweet and lucid language; yet finally you need not even achieve this objective through exquisite language; the message can also be driven home with the help of brush or pen. This is what is known as aesthetic science.

The feeling that is at work behind aesthetic science is nothing but pleasure. But what is behind this pleasure? I like this flower. I take delight in a particular arrangement. I feel amused with a special style of speaking. This is how dramas came into being and how human beings invented recitation. When this pleasure fills my mind, ́I’ becomes the subject or possessive case, and that which enthralls me becomes the objective case. When such a state of affairs continues, a stage is reached when that Entity feels that ́I’ am dear to him. Thus the reverse occurs. If this stage continues over a considerable length of time, one loses oneself. As long as I enjoy, my unit existence persists. As I exist, I can enjoy, and when I lose myself, when ́I’ becomes dear to that Entity, when ́I’ becomes the source of joy to that Entity, a stage is finally reached when my unit existence is completely lost in that Entity. The losing of oneself, the state of being lost or as a matter of fact, the beginning of the process of losing oneself to the very source of joy, is known as mohanavijiṋána, or the science of supra-aesthetics. And the Entity to whom we lose ourselves is Mohana, or the embodiment of enchantment. Parama Puruśa is Mohana as He enchants one and all. Had not Parama Puruśa enchanted the world, no one would have wanted to live here.

Can you imagine the gravity of the countless problems in the world? Exasperated at the acute problems, human beings would have bidden goodbye to the world and fled. But one fails to do this because one has come under the overwhelming influence of Mohana, i.e., Parama Puruśa and thus has become unable to flee from this world. Even if one does not like this world, one somehow remains here due to love for Parama Puruśa. And when one falls in love with Parama Puruśa, and when one is dear to Parama Puruśa, where will one go? For this very reason it has been said that human beings invented Dharma as a result of their love for Mohana, or due to falling into His charming clutches.In this way, Dharma or spirituality first appeared in human life.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gán geye jái tomáke shońái, shońa kiná ámi jáni ná.
Sedhe cali sur, bháve bharpur, bháśár vicár máni ná.

Sura saptake mandritábhoge,
Nrtye chande mathita je ráge.
Mor manoviińá se rańane jáge,
Tá ki tumi priya dekho ná.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 27/3/86

I sing for You, knowing not whether You hear.
Oblivious of language limits, immersed in ideation, I sing and sing.

The earth rotates in bonds of love, in melody, rhythms, in incomprehensible sound;
Only You can realize the harmonies resounding from Your viińá.

Consumed and quivering in Your seven-note scale,
Pulsing out the melody vibrant with your rhythmic dance,
My mind’s viińá awakenes in those resounding vibrations.
Don’t You feel it, my love?

Chapter 5	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Are art, music and supra-aesthetic science inseparable? To proclaim the glories of Parama Puruśa, the Supreme Consciousness, in a loud voice is termed kiirtana. The Saḿskrta root verb kirtt means to "utter something loudly so that others may also hear it"; thus kiirtana means to proclaim the glories of the Lord loudly for all to hear.

Now the question is, does Parama Puruśa really want people to sing His glories? He never tells anyone to do kiirtana for Him: then why should people do kiirtana? There is a subtle science behind kiirtana. Human beings always want to proceed from the crude to the subtle in all spheres of life: they always seek the subtle amidst the crude, and in the subtle they always seek the subtlest – this is how they advance towards greater and greater subtlety.

Primitive human beings in the distant past used to appreciate the harmony of music; they also liked to dance in joy. But the music of the people of the prehistoric age was extremely crude, and so was their style of dance. However, their urge to seek the subtle amidst the crude was very great, and thus in the process they evolved various kinds of rhythmic dance, and various styles of rhythms. Similarly, they came to appreciate subtle aesthetic beauty in melody as well, by bringing songs within a definite system and introducing various rágas and rágińiis. This was largely done by Sadáshiva. Later a perfect blending of song and dance through tála (metre) was developed. It was Shiva who first introduced the particular dance of tańd́ava, and His wife Párvatii who developed another special dance known as lalita lásya. This is how, in the process of the artistic endeavour to advance from the crude to the subtle, people developed the science which is called aesthetic science; and as a result of this subtle development, people no longer appreciated the cruder expressions of life.

Once upon a time people preferred baked or roasted food; in fact, in ancient times they used to eat everything baked or roasted, for they did not know how to cook at all. Gradually they developed the art of cooking by adding spices, and thus they learned how to prepare special and delicious dishes like ghańt́a, shukto, etc. [various delectable food preparations]. Once they experienced the taste of something subtle, they no longer appreciated anything prepared crudely. Similarly, once people had heard something rhythmic and melodious, they could no longer appreciate any crude song or music.

Previously people only watched silent films, but once the "talkies" were introduced, they no longer appreciated those silent movies. Nowadays if silent films are shown in any cinema of a city, even free of charge, there is hardly any gathering – people would much rather go elsewhere, making polite excuses. But at cinemas where contemporary films are shown, people rush to purchase tickets even on the black market.

Thus the general psychology is that once people experience something subtle, they automatically discard the crude. This continuous progress from the crude to the subtle, and from the subtle to the subtlest aspects of life, comes within the scope of aesthetic science, and in this process of movement ultimately we reach a state in which our refined tastes, refined feelings, and refined expressions transport us into the realm of Eternal Beauty. Then those who attain such a state will no longer possess the ability or capacity to taste the beauty of anything: the beauty of music or the beauty of dance will no longer remain an object of experience for them; because at that time they will have attained a state so intoxicated with joy that they will lose their limited identity, and thus their ability to experience anything. This exalted state beyond even aesthetic science is called mohana vijiṋána or supra-aesthetic science. That is, those who are enthralled with delight can no longer experience anything at all, because their very entitative rhythm is almost lost.

The diverse schools of music or dance that people have developed so far, and the many more varied branches of music and dance that will be developed in future, are all meant to provide joy to people through aesthetic science. But kiirtana was first invented by devotees to give joy to Parama Puruśa, and in the process of pleasing and delighting Parama Puruśa, the devotees lost themselves. Thus kiirtana belongs to the category of supra-aesthetic science.

Now the question may be asked, what is supra-aesthetic science? To put it precisely, it is the endeavour to ensconce the microcosmic entity, the individual entitative rhythm, in the eternal being, the infinite rhythm of Parama Puruśa. So among all forms of saḿgiita, kiirtana is the best; and saḿgiita means dance, song and instrumental music – all three. So kiirtana is not just song. Dance is also a part of it, and instrumental music is also a part of it. This combination of dance, song and insrtumental music creates such a pure and heavenly atmosphere that what happens to a person? A person will forget himself or herself. This is the charm, the excellence, of kiirtana. So those who are truly intelligent should certainly do kiirtana. So those who are truly intelligent should certainly do kiirtana either in public, or – if they feel rather shy – in private.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáne gáne
Bhare dile ákásh vátás tumi priya;
Dyuloker álok ánile
Chande tále ramaniya.

Ámár maner randhrapathe
Acená ajáná hate;
Kon se plávan ácamvite vahále
He dhyáner dheya.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 14/11/86

With countless songs
You filled the air and the sky, O dear,
You brought light from heaven,
So exquisite in rhythm and beat.

You drew the far near,
You made the unrelated your kin.
You sang tunes of deep ideation
That still ring in the core of every heart.

Through the various pores of my mind,
From an unknown and unseen world,
What a sudden deluge you let in,
O the object of my meditation.

Chapter 6	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The Supreme Father is the Absolute Truth, the only Truth of the Universe. His creation undergoes transmutation, and thus it may be a moving reality, a relative truth, but not an absolute truth. The Absolute Truth is a singular entity; there cannot be two Absolute Truths, there cannot be two Fundamental Truths.

In the hub of this Absolute Truth there is no change and no movement, no absolute pause, no relative pause. But in the outer arena of the Hub, of the Causal Matrix, there is movement, but there is no second entity. This internal movement, although a movement, is as fundamental as the Absolute Truth.

But in the realm of creation there is relativity; and because there are relativities, that is why there are pains, pleasures, sorrows and afflictions. All human beings reside in that portion of the Supreme Body. But whether plants, animals or human beings, the goal of all is the Supreme Hub. And this pauseless movement towards the Supreme Nave is human progress, progress in the proper spirit of the term. This is spiritual life, and this life is the real life. It is the only path for human beings to follow; no other path can be accepted as the path of progress that does not lead to intellectual growth and spiritual elevation. Only that can be termed as genuine progress which elevates all aspects of human existence - physical, mental and spiritual - and makes them one with the Supreme. This is the path of Sadhana.

In this path of your movement - and remember, movement is essential for you - sometimes obstacles arise, and in future will arise also. In this manifested world, different forces are acting and reacting; some of these forces help humanity in accelerating its movement, whereas some thwart the progress toward the Supreme. Spiritual aspirants will have to advance by fighting all these opposing forces. One should not be concerned about these; rather one should proceed on with greater firmness, smashing all obstacles and continuing tirelessly towards the Supreme Entity. One is sure to reach one’s destination. And what is the destination? To merge into Parama Puruśa, to sit on His Lap.

Along with the obstacles, there will also be certain forces which will assist you. Whatever worldly difficulties might obstruct your path, the best positive or auxiliary force is kiirtana. Kiirtana helps a devotee to accelerate the speed towards the hub of the Universe. Kiirtana will help you in all circumstances; if any mental trouble arises, kiirtana will help you.

People have to pass through so many relativities, so many troubles and afflictions, before attaining that Supreme Hub. Human beings are subject to triple afflictions – physical, psychic and spiritual – and the psychic and spiritual miseries are as painful as the physical ones.

Why do the spiritual afflictions arise? You know that you are the loving sons and daughters of Parama Puruśa. But you don’t feel Him always close to you, you cannot get the chance to sit on His Lap, and because of this you suffer from spiritual afflictions.

The supreme panacea to surmount all these triple afflictions is sadhana. So all human beings must do sadhana as much as possible; it is the main duty of the human life. If sadhana is omitted, then one should omit one’s food and sleep also. Just as food and sleep are essential for human beings, similarly kiirtana, the most essential aid for sadhana, should also be done whenever there is opportunity and time. The educated and uneducated alike should do it.

One must do kiirtana not only to surmount physical afflictions, but psychic and spiritual afflictions as well. It is the best medicine for all physical, psychic and spiritual ailments. It will bring about not only improvement in worldly life but success in the psychic and spiritual spheres. Kiirtana will help you in all circumstances, in all possible ways.

If people do kiirtana with distinct expression of the mantra, their mouths become pure, their tongues become pure, their ears become pure, their whole bodies become pure - and when so many parts of the body become pure, the átmá (self) also becomes pure. By kiirtana you become as pure as if you have taken a “holy dip in the Ganges.” What does a holy dip in the Ganges mean for a sádhaka? It means doing kiirtana constantly.

So instead of wasting your time in gossiping, in useless idle pursuits, you should do kiirtana even for two minutes or five minutes, whenever you get the opportunity. It is foolish to waste one’s valuable time in gossiping. One who has been blessed with a human body is not a fool but an intelligent person. Such people feel internally that they are the children of Parama Puruśa. Why should they waste their time?

By kiirtana you will always feel that you are not an insignificant creature, you are not inferior or low. Kiirtana will always remind you that you are the affectionate children of the Supreme. In kiirtana there is no restriction regarding time, place or person, no distinction between educated and uneducated, between black and white.

So do kiirtana, sing kiirtana, chant kiirtana, whenever and wherever possible.

Chapter 7	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

I was saying yesterday that kiirtana is a valuable aid in spiritual practice (sadhana) to accelerate the speed of human progress towards the Supreme Conciousness - “sádhanásaháyakam.” But kiirtana is not only helpful in the realm of spirituality, but also in all spheres of life; it banishes physical troubles and tribulations as well. Kiirtana fights against all mundane difficulties and finally becomes victorious.

How does this happen? At the time of kiirtana, so many people, so many devotees assemble, and all their collective physical energies function unitedly. But more than that their collective psychic energies are flowing in the same channel under the inspiration of Parama Puruśa. So many minds are being loved by Parama Puruśa, so many minds are being guided and inspired by that Supra-Celestial Entity. So at the place of kiirtana, not only will there be a huge concentration of physical energies, but also of psychic energy which will remove collective accumulated miseries of this material, quinquelemental world.

Moreover, those people doing kiirtana are the devotees of the Lord, and they have already placed a throne for Parama Puruśa in their hearts. So when there is kiirtana, Parama Puruśa immediately comes to sit on the throne of their hearts. The divine seat, the universal hub of Parama Puruśa is shifted there. That spot becomes the capital of Parama Puruśa.

Why does He come there? “I will not sit on the thrones of the devotees’ hearts” – Parama Puruśa cannot say this. He will have to sit there, He will be compelled to sit there. In this way the unit minds, by the inspiration they receive from Parama Puruśa, become irresistibly powerful. No worldly obstacles can stand before their tremendous spiritual force. Thus kiirtana is helpful not only for spiritual sadhana but also for removing worldly difficulties.

The physical afflictions of this material world are caused partly by nature, and partly by human beings themselves. Now, whatever might be the physical miseries – be they natural or man-made – if people collectively chant kiirtana, the calamities are dispelled then and there. In case of natural calamities like flood, famine, drought or epidemic, or man-made calamities, miseries and tortures - if kiirtana is chanted with maximum sincerity, it will bring direct relief in no time.

In addition, kiirtana removes the collective psychic afflictions as well - those which are already existing, and those which have not yet arrived but about which we have premonitions of their impending arrival. If kiirtana is done in advance, those impending troubles disappear. Why do they disappear? They are dispelled not merely because of the collective mental force of so many people, but also due to the impact of so many minds moving with tremendous speed under the inspiration of Parama Puruśa.

At the place of kiirtana, not only the people who are themselves doing kiirtana will be benefited, but also those who are not participating – and even those who are not participating and who do not even like it – they will also be benefited! Those who listen sincerely to the chanting of kiirtana will be benefited and those who do not listen sincerely but simply hear inadvertently without any respect, they too will be benefited. “shraddhayá helayá vá” – “either with veneration or without”.

That is why I say that it is imperative for every intelligent person, every wise person, every clever person, to always do kiirtana, without any consideration of time, place and person. And those who do kiirtana should always remember that the hands of Parama Puruśa bestowing blessing will always be with them.

Chapter 8	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Human existence is trifarious: human beings are neither physical entities, nor psychic, nor spiritual entities – they are three in one. All human expressions and activities take place in those three spheres or strata. We should be strong in all the three arenas of life, and then only is human existence trilateral, in its true and proper spirit.

Now, we must serve the society and also the cosmic father in all the three strata of our existence. We must serve the Parama Puruśa in the physical sphere – how? Living creatures are the progeny of Parama Puruśa, so we can serve Him physically by rendering service to living beings in the physical sphere, by removing their various physical miseries and afflictions and by showing them the path to liberation. We must take upon ourselves the responsibility to lead them forward not by telling them, “Alright, you go ahead, I am behind you!” but rather by saying, “I am going forward – you also come with me!”

This universe is a loving creation of Parama Puruśa. We can give joy to Parama Puruśa by serving His creations – human beings, animals and plants – and this service will be the best application of Neohumanism. This service can be done in four ways – viprocita sevá (intellectual service), kśatriyocita sevá (service of courage), vaeshyocita sevá (economic service) and shudrocita sevá (manual service). None of these is inferior: we cannot ignore any one of them. People should render service according to their capacity. Those who like intellectual service, can do that; those who like manual service, can do so. But it will be best if all the four types are performed.

We cannot call people “good” if they cannot lead people of all walks of life towards welfare. We can call them “goody-goodies” but not good people. Those who are truly good people will move bravely forward and provide inspiration and strength to those mute masses to fight against all kinds of obstacles, and give a clarion call to them to march ahead.

In the psychic sphere also, we must serve Parama Puruśa, since mind is a very important aspect of human existence. And the best way to serve Parama Puruśa in the mental sphere is to do His kiirtana with love and devotion. When Parama Puruśa sees that “a number of minds are flowing towards Me,” He will certainly feel a soothing touch, and thus this collective movement will benefit both the individuals and the collectivity. This synthetic movement towards the Supreme One will surely reduce the degree of complexity that has arisen from the constant conflicts and clashes in the society today.

These days many psychic diseases have appeared as a result of this mental complexity. Many people are committing suicide; many people are becoming lunatics. The reason is that people are unable to adjust with the various types of complexities in life.

The human brain is limited, and its nerve cells also have a limited capacity: they cannot tolerate these growing complexities. Kiirtana gives bliss to Parama Puruśa in the mental sphere, and it also brings joy to human beings both individually and collectively; it leads them on the path of welfare and frees them from all these complexities. It removes all the diseases of the intellect and allows people to think easily and in the proper way.

So intelligent people should do kiirtana as much as possible. When people, due to psychic complexities, cannot find the solution to their difficulties and they are at a loss what to do, if they sit together at any place and do kiirtana wholeheartedly for a while, their psychic complexities will be removed and they will easily seize upon the solution to their problems.

Thus if you have even only one minute’s time, do kiirtana for one minute. If even two or three people gather together, they can do kiirtana collectively; if one thousand people assemble together, then also they can do kiirtana. When you do kiirtana and move towards Parama Puruśa, the Supreme Father, then in Parama Puruśa’s mind also there will be a flow of bliss, because so many minds are coming towards Him with love. He will feel very happy. Seeing the bliss of His devotees, Parama Puruśa will also become overwhelmed with joy, because of His enormous love for His devotees. “How good these devotees are!” – He says. Parama Puruśa loves each and everyone, but He loves those who do kiirtana still more. He will say to them, “Come, come, come – come near to Me.” This is the proper way to serve Parama Puruśa in the mental sphere.

Devotees may or may not be educated; they may or may not be highly qualified; they may or may not be intelligent; but if they do kiirtana they are efficient enough to render service to Parama Puruśa in the psychic realm. So my boys and girls, don’t miss this golden opportunity. You have been blessed with a human body; there must be maximum utilization of this human body by serving Parama Puruśa both physically and mentally, and the best method of rendering psychic service to Parama Puruśa is by doing kiirtana.

One of the names of Parama Puruśa is “Áshutośa”. “Áshu” means “quickly, easily”, so “áshutośa” means one who can be satisfied quickly and easily. Whether good or bad, if people do kiirtana sincerely and wholeheartedly even for five or ten minutes, Parama Puruśa becomes pleased. So it is not difficult to please Him – any person can satisfy Him easily. Parama Puruśa does not make any distinctions between educated and uneducated, between black and white – all are His loving sons and daughters. Even the ugliest child is a precious jewel to its parents. If people do kiirtana for a few minutes only, Parama Puruśa becomes happy.

And in the spiritual sphere, the only way to serve Parama Puruśa is to do what? sadhana. Your sadhana will attain the height of spiritual fulfillment when you will realize that “day and night, in adversity or prosperity, all the time Parama Puruśa is with me – I have nothing to worry about.”

By intensive sadhana, you will move closer and closer to Parama Puruśa. And in this process of forward movement, when you reach near Him you will feel that – although Parama Puruśa has millions of sons and daughters like you who are coming closer to Him – He is in front of you, and you will feel that on the lap of Parama Puruśa there is a vacant seat waiting just for you.

Chapter 9	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You all know that the meaning of the Sanskrit word tańd́u is “jumping” or “leaping”, and tańd́ula means “rice”. Rice is called tańd́ula because the rice kernels jump when they are separated from the husk. Thus táńd́ava also means “jumping”. While jumping, when the knee comes up to the navel or above it then it is called brahmatáńd́ava, and when the knee goes above the anáhata cakra then it is called viśńutáńd́ava , and when the knee crosses the vishuddha cakra it is called rudratáńd́ava. All of you should remember this.

Today at noon I talked about the fundamental principles of devotion. The subject of discourse was “Kiirtaniiyah Sadá Harih”. In it I discussed what should be the cardinal principles of a gentleman, what their nature should be. What is kiirtana, what is Hari? I also talked about that. Did you all understand it properly?

Kiirtaniiyah sadá Harih. The devotee will do the kiirtana of Hari. At that time what will Hari do? That is one question. The devotee is very dear to Hari and Hari is also very dear to the devotee. And Hari steals the devotee’s sins. All this takes place. But when the devotee does the kiirtana of Hari, what will Hari do then? You know, if, when the devotee does kiirtana, the mantra is a siddha mantra (kiirtana has siddha mantras), an aśt́ákśarii siddha mantra, that is, having eight syllables and also being siddha [consecrated and infused with tremendous power], then as a result a certain environment is created, a special wave is created. Why is this wave produced? Each spiritual aspirant while doing kiirtana feels that a special wave is produced. How does it happen? Where does this wave come from? When the devotees do kiirtana they themselves create a certain environment. That wave emanates from the nucleus of this environment. The way that the devotees create this environment is called hariparimańd́ala in the scriptures. Parimańd́ala means “environment”. This wave emanates from the hariparimańd́ala. At that time where does Hari remain? There is a shloka prevalent in the scriptures –

Náhaḿ tiśt́hámi vaekuńt́he yogináḿ hrdaye na ca;
Madbhaktáh yatra gáyanti tatra tiśt́hámi nárada.

Nárada asks the question: “It is true that you are all-pervading, but while you are everywhere you still control everything while remaining in one specific place. You control everything from one particular nucleus – this is also true. But where is this nucleus? Where is your actual residence?” Nárada asks Náráyańa this.

What does the word nárada mean? The word nára has three meanings in Sanskrit. One meaning of the word nára is niira, that is, “water”. The second meaning is Paramá Prakrti, the Supreme Operative Principle. Nára means prakrti and ayańa means “shelter”. Thus the one in whom nára or prakrti is sheltered, prakrti’s shelter, is Náráyańa. Nára means prakrti and ayańa means “shelter”. The ayańa of nára is Náráyańa. And the third meaning of the word nára is “devotion”. Nára + da = nárada. In Sanskrit da means “one who gives”. Hence nárada means “one who gives nára, or devotion, one who distributes devotion”. Nárada was a great devotee. That Nárada’s question was: “Lord, where do you stay? Where is your true dwelling? Where is your nucleus really located? You are everywhere but where is your nucleus?”

Náhaḿ tiśt́hámi vaekuńt́he. Some people say that Náráyańa remains in vaekuńt́ha [heaven]. Vaekuńt́ha does not mean a far-away land. Kuńt́há means “contraction.” For example, people are contracted in the cold; they are contracted out of fear or shame. So vaekuńt́ha is used in the sense of contraction having passed, that is, where the mind does not undergo any kind of contraction, where it is liberated, free, absorbed in the love of the Paramátmá. Where there is no kuńt́há it is vaekuńt́ha. Vaekuńt́ha does not mean a distant place. When there is no contraction in your mind then there is the dawn of vaekuńt́ha in your mind. This is vaekuńt́ha. But here Náráyańa says, “I do not remain in vaekuńt́ha”– náhaḿ tiśt́hámi vaekuńt́he. Why does he not remain there? It is true that where there is no contraction the devotees get the Lord, because the mind is not contracted. However, here there is no emanation of the wave of kiirtana. Only one person will feel it, will attain bliss. It will not be possible for that person to distribute bliss to everyone. Thus He says, náhaḿ tiśt́hámi vaekuńt́he.

Again He says: yogináḿ hrdaye na ca. What does yogii mean? The word yogii has several meanings. One meaning is: sarvacintáparityágonishcinto yoga ucyate. Or yogashcittavrttinirodhah. Another meaning is: saḿyogo yoga ityuktah jiivátmá paramátmanah. In this way there are many explanations. But what does a yogi do? The yogi brings the cittavrtti, that is, the mental propensities to cessation, suspends and stops them. In that state all the mental propensities cease, that is, all their mental propensities are suspended, remain in a suspended state; there cannot be expression of any of [[one’s]] feelings. If Náráyańa remains there [[the yogi]] will not have any expression. The yogi feels the presence of the Paramátmá in their heart but in this state there cannot be any outward emanation of that wave, as happens in kiirtana. Although Paramátmá is present in a yogi’s heart, it is a kind of dry desert. It is not sweet.

But kiirtana has raso vae sah. He is full of rasa i.e. sweetness, full of bliss. People derive bliss from it. They get bliss from kiirtana. So if Náráyańa were to reside in a yogi’s heart then no one would enjoy bliss; only that yogi would enjoy bliss. So what does Náráyańa say? Madbhaktáh yatra gáyanti tatra tiśt́hámi nárada. He says: “O Nárada, I reside where my devotees do my kiirtana.” In other words, “I go where my devotees are doing kiirtana, where they are creating the Hariparimańd́ala.” This is why people get bliss from kiirtana.

I have said that doing kiirtana is the definite duty of every spiritual aspirant. In kiirtana the mind becomes very elevated. One gets bliss. One gets the wave of Hari, and if a person sits for meditation immediately thereafter then they will also experience great bliss in their meditation. Thus doing kiirtana is definitely a necessity for every spiritual aspirant.

Chapter 10	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The sound a is the seed of creation. But this sound is not only the acoustic root of creation; as the acoustic root of creation, this sound controls the entire musical scale. For example, sya/khya (śad́aja – according to the Yajurveda it can also be pronounced kharaja, but it must be borne in mind that kha is pronounced as a cerebral letter, that is, it is not pronounced like the kha of the ka varga); re/r (rśabha – it can also be pronounced rkhabha, however the kha is not pronounced like the kha of the ka varga); gá (gándhára); má (madhyama); pá (paiṋcama); dhá (dhaevata); ni (niśáda– it can also be pronounced nikháda but again this kha is not pronounced like the kha of the ka varga). So even though this a sound secondarily controls the musical scale, it is the principal controller of śad́aja sound. We use the sound sya as the first letter in the musical scale or sa-re-gá-má (do-re-mi-fa). It must be kept in mind that if this sound is protracted, it does not become the second sound á, but rather a closed a, that is, the pronunciation will not become like a á-á-á-á; it will be somewhat like the north Indian style of pronouncing a; in other words, somewhere between aya and á. Singers (gáyak-gáyakiirá-the word gáyiká is incorrect) will be benefited if they pay some attention to this specific aspect of pronunciation. Since a is the acoustic root of the sound śad́aja, the first step in the study of music is the letter a. The western octave – do, re, mi, fa, sol, la, si, do – arises out of the same conventions; however, here the first note, śad́aja (do), is repeated and included in the scale. As a result, in the Indian tradition, we call the musical scale the surasaptaka, that is, the combination of seven forming one, and in the western tradition it is the octave, that is, the combination of eight forming one.

In any case, Sadáshiva arranged these sounds to form the musical scale, which is both acoustics and rhythmic phonetics. Thus in the cultivation of music we cannot forget Sadáshiva. A little while ago I said that sound has colour. We can also call this colour varńa or rága. The word rága comes from adding the suffix ghaiṋ to raiṋj; it means “to dye, to colour”, or the state of dyeing. By putting sounds together with different permutations and combinations, Shiva created newer and newer acoustic rága and organized them into a system. In this way He created six rágas and thirty-six rágińiis. When considered from this point of view, Sadáshiva’s contribution was unbounded. For this reason, He is called nádatanu [music personified] in the Vedas. Of course, in human society it was Maharśi Bharata who spread these rágas and rágińiis throughout the learned community. These rágas and rágińiis are altered in accordance with the difference in their states of contraction and expansion. However, when considering Indian music, they are chiefly divided into two branches–one is related to the region north of the Vindhya mountains, that is, the land of the Aryans, and the other is related to the region south of the Vindhya mountains, or the Deccan peninsula. The style of the land of the Aryans we call Hindustani music in the spoken language and the style of the Deccan region we call Carnatic.

Today and in the future as well, many new rágas and rágińiis can and will be created. No stoppage should be allowed in this matter. I have also created a few new rágas and rágińiis in Prabháta Saḿgiita⁽¹⁾. However, I have yet to name them.

Footnotes

(1) A body of 5018 spiritual and psycho-spiritual songs composed by Shrii P.R. Sarkar (Shrii Shrii Ánandamúrti). –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The long and pluta [extra-long] pronunciations of saḿvrta [closed] a, vivrta [open] a and tiryak [distorted] a – as well as of saḿvrta á, vivrta á and long á – cannot be properly indicated in the Bengali, Urdu or Hindi alphabets or in various other prevalent alphabets of the world. But it can be done to some extent with the help of lupta a [diminished a], lupta á [diminished á] or, if necessary, other lupta vowels.

There is a definite need for the use of the extra-long a and á vowels – at least in the case of saḿgiita. The inadequacy of letters [to express mental feelings] in general conversation is much more prominent in the case of music. In the Bengali alphabet, this inadequacy can be made up to some extent by the uses of the diminished a, the diminished á, the long a, the long á, the extra-long a, the extra-long á, etc. But not all alphabets of the world have this convenience. Symbols similar to lupta a can be used with various other vowels [to represent long or extra-long vowels]; if used with music, both the teachers and the students of music will be immensely benefited⁽¹⁾ . But I do not find any need to introduce these diminished signs for ordinary or colloquial language.

If I write in Bengali script – áji ele tumi kár mukh cáhi balo, tumi balo – then it does not indicate any elongated expression. But if the same expression is written as– á-áj-i-i ele-e ká-ár mukh cá-áh-i ba-alo tumi ba-alo – then one can get some idea how it was actually pronounced in an elongated manner. So I say again that this convention need not be introduced for ordinary language, but should be introduced for song and recitation. Yet in the practical world, that is, in ordinary language, also, there is some degree of need for diminished a or diminished á, which I mentioned while explaining about the a vowel.

Just as the a sound is the acoustic root of the first note śad́aja (śad́aja or khaŕaja, but the kha is not the kha of ka varga) of the musical octave, similarly the letter á is the acoustic root of second note rśabha (according to Yajurveda, rkhabha will also do, but this kha is not the kha of ka varga). This acoustic root á controls rśabha directly and also indirectly controls gándhára (gá), madhyama (má), paiṋcama (pá), dhaevata (dhá) and niśáda or nikháda (ni). Except in the Rgveda, we commonly find the use of the note ni in the minor scale as well as the same note in the natural major scale (komala ni and sádhárań ni). In the older school of the Rgveda, the subdued variation of the note ni (kad́i ni) was also current, which was pronounced through both sides of the palate. The seven Vedic notes, the seven Tantric notes and two ideational notes – this constituted the sixteen notes which was known as the ́system of sixteen sounds’ (śoŕasha dhvanikalá) in Indo-Aryan science of phonetics. In accordance with the waxing and waning of the moon, and because of the increase and decrease of the duration of [the day and the night], different hours for singing different rágas and rágińiis⁽²⁾ were prescribed.

Footnotes

(1) It is worth mentioning in this context that the author, while giving tunes for the Prabháta Saḿgiita that he composed, introduced the use of an extra-long á sound to be sung in the kheyál style at the end of the first line of each antará [stanza]. He made this singing system a requirement for all of the 5018 songs. –Trans.

(2) Modes of Indian classical Music. Rágas are the six Principal modes, and rágińiis are the thirty-six modes secondary to the Principal modes. Each rága or rágińii is a rhythmic or melodic pattern used as the basis for improvisation. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáner kakhano sheś hay náko,
Surer jagate nahi eká.
Práńer pradiip kabhu neve náko
Tava diipádháre hale rákhá.

Tomár vyáhriti mahá dyotanáya
Surasaptake vahiyá je jáy.
Anantakál tava cetanáy
Sánande samáhita tháká.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 4/8/83

Music never ends,
in the realm of melody none are alone;
The flame of life can never be extinguished,
If it burns on Your lamp stand.

From You have sprung all languages, all melodies;
All songs are only Your gifts, wheels of chariots move for Your glory.

Your utterances, cosmically vibrant,
Stream along seven musical notes;
Eternally Your consciousness
Remains blissfully entranced.

Chapter 11	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The root gae means to express an idea through regular rhythm, beat and cadence. It explains why not only human beings but also animals, birds, worms and insects can sing. In the human body the kúrma nád́ii [energy channels related to vocal cord], expanding and contracting upwards, downwards and sideways, distributes the sounds of a song and thereby nourishes the sapta loakik svar or seven basic musical sounds e.g., śad́aja, rśava, gándhára, madhyama, paiṋcama, dhaevata and niśáda (sá, re, gá, má, pá, dhá, ni). Moreover, they also give expression to the seven Vedic svarapráńa [vocal sound originating deep within] like oṋm, hum, phat́, baośat́, bośat́, sváhá, namah⁽¹⁾, and also the two basic propensities, viśa and amrta⁽²⁾ , symbolizing the hoarseness and mellifluousness of the voice. This is why human beings cannot exert full control over these sixteen basic sounds, i.e., seven basic musical notes plus seven Vedic svarapráńa plus two notes viśa and ámrta (which are related to musical qualities) unless there is some innate quality of the kúrma nád́ii, or there is some inherent power or divine power or intense sadhana or constant music practice.

The functional ambit of the root verb gae comprises of sixteen specific sub-glands which secrete special kinds of hormones. Through specialized concentration on kúrma nád́ii, short, long, elongated and tremolo sounds must be forced out aided by the power (shakti) of vaekharii [force of vocal expression]. Pará, pashyanti, madhyamá, dyotamáná, vaekharii and shrutigocará are the centres of the power in the human body – all arranged in tiers. Hence their usage is to be learnt step by step. In tandem with this learning, the linguistic expression in accompaniment with regular beat, cadence and rhythm is what is known as song. Many of you can sing well, I see. Remember what I have said. You do know and understand the classified arrangements of udárá, mudárá, tárá [the lowest, intermediate and highest musical octaves usually in reference to Indian musical scales].

A bull possesses natural control over its kúrma nád́ii. Control over kúrma nád́ii helps the limbs of the body come under control. You will notice that sometimes a bull, while concentrating on its kúrma nád́ii, can stand still like a statue carved out of stone hour after hour. This you will seldom find in any other being.

The surasaptaka and the occidental musical octave have no basic difference. The seven musical notes sá, re, gá, má, pá, dhá, ni constitutes surasaptaka or the Indian musical notes, and the Western musical octave comprises the eight notes do, re, mi, fá, sol, lá, si, do. … Do comes twice and thus the combination of eight produces the octave.

Footnotes

(1) They also represent seven propensities like the following: acoustic root of creation (oṋm), sound of kula kuńd́alinii (hum), fruition or practication (phat́), development of mundane knowledge (vaośat́), welfare in the subtler sphere (vaśat́), pious resolve and universal welfare (sváhá), surrender to the supreme (namah). –Trans.

(2) viśa – repulsion, poisonous mentality;
     amrta – attraction for the great. –Trans.

Chapter 12	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You all know that to keep the voice at the same level while singing is well-nigh impossible, and even if it is made possible, it is not pleasing to the ears. There ought to be high and low frequencies. Only highness will not suffice, there should be lowness also. Again, if high frequencies dominate a song, pushing the low frequencies to the back seat, then that kind of song, if sung for days together or for a long time daily, may result in constipation coupled with vocal disorder.

Hence, after singing songs which are predominantly high-pitched, the singer should sip a mixture of powdered black pepper and warm ghee.⁽¹⁾ The high frequency part of a song is called khańd́aparshu. While singing, one should hold before one’s eyes the bháva [ideation] of the rága or rágińii⁽²⁾ in which the song is being sung and should also sing meticulously and systematically within the notes prescribed for that particular rága or rágińii. For this, different rágas or rágińiis have specific ideations of their own. To reflect on these ideations, different hours of the day have been prescribed for different rágas and ráginiis. Examples include bhaeroṋ (bhaerava), áshoyárii (áshávarii), kedár, pilu, desh, bágeshrii [different rágas and rágińiis sung at different times of the day]. Deviation from this rule hastens the premature death of a song. The songs of the singer who flouts these rules sound lifeless as those songs ride roughshod over the prescribed norms. The mind has to be led to the mahábháva or cosmic ideation embodied in the different rágas and rágińiis through ańubháva or unit ideation. Of these, bháva, ańubháva and especially the mahábháva are called khańd́aparshu. In ancient times, the impetus that was given to the unit bháva or mahábháva for the sake of rudriikarańa [poignancy], stambhikarańa [stilling the mind] and spaśt́ikarańa [clarity] was called khámbáj.

Footnotes

(1) See also “The Practice of Songs – Sore Throat and Its Remedy”. –Trans.

(2) See the last footnote of “The Inner Science of Surasaptaka”. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Chande chaŕiye dile práń priyatama,
Bháśáy bhariye dile gán.
Ásháya ráuṋále ákásh vátás,
Bhúl bháuṋgále he mahán.

Avyakta múka dhará pare
Rága-rágińii dile kańt́ha bhare.
Ná-thákár duhkha gelo sare,
Elo thákár ánanderi bán.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 11/8/84

Through rhythm, O dearest, You spread Your life force,
Through language filled with song.
With hope You coloured the sky and air,
And broke through illusion, O noble Soul.

Amidst the unknown You brought the known,
You filled the nothingness with your presence,
Showered Your blessings in festive lights, amidst mirths and merriments of life.

You enlivened the mute expressionless earth
With full-throated tunes and melodies,
The anguish of emptiness vanished,
And infinite bliss surged in.

Chapter 13	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

That which is mastered by continued arduous practice is called dhrupada. The Sanskrit language has been bound by the composition of grammar. For this reason, the Sanskrit language is called dhrupadii language. Other dhrupadii languages of this kind are old Arabic, Hebrew, Latin, old Greek and Pali. The Vedic language does not have any grammar, thus in this sense Vedic is not a dhrupadii language.

A certain type of music is also called dhrupadii. Some people mistakenly think that dhrupadii music refers perhaps to a special rága or rágińii or a composition in that raga, but this is not the case. Dhrupada is a certain type of method or style where the music is fixed in a certain scale. This method or style differed from place to place. For example, in Agra, Jaonpur, Lucknow, Gwalior, Varanasi, Betiah, Vishnupur, and so on, each music found expression in its own style. And from each of these distinctive styles arose a separate gharáńá [a particular style or school]. But it is necessary to mention that all of these gharáńás, their rendering styles being rigidly confined to only certain specific notes corresponding to a particular rága or ragińii, gradually came to the point of dying out. Their condition became like that of women wearing the veil. The music became thirsty and anxious for the slightest respite, to breathe a little fresh air [háoyá]. Incidentally, the word hává is a Turkish word. In order to reform the Turkish alphabet and spelling, Kemal Pasha (Kemal Atatürk) introduced Roman script. Similarly, in order to reform the rule-bound style of music and in the hopes of breathing a little fresh air, there was an effort in the Mughal court to breathe some life into dhrupadii music. In this case, although the correct scale was maintained, freedom was given to the vocalist to go here and there. This facility or opportunity was thus the music’s kheyál. This kheyál of dhrupadii saved the music from monotony. Dhrupadii music was cultivated in the Vishnupurii gharáńá of Bengal but it did not create its own kheyál. Bengali music hardly ever used to be sung in dhrupadii style, hence in that respect Bengali music was already somewhat free from this kind of monotony. It was for this reason, of course, that the need for kheyál was not felt in Bengali music.

When saḿgiita (the combined name for instrumental music, vocal music and dance) is not bound fast by the scale, that is, when the singer enjoys sufficient freedom in their vocals, when the dancers can direct their steps to some extent according to their own wishes, when the musicians enjoy a certain freedom with the metre while playing, then this kind of saḿgiita, that is, dance, vocal and instrumental music, can be called folk song, folk music and folk dance. However this does not mean that this folk music will always remain classified as folk music. When it becomes bound by certain rules, it will also rise to the level of dhrupadii, as has happened with Manipurii dance. This rising to the level of dhrupadii has two sides to it. On the one hand, when folk music rises to the level of dhrupadii, it gains a certain respect, a certain prestige. On the other hand, this respect and prestige prevent it from moving ahead on its path. The flowing river full of vitality gets transformed into a swamp choked with water hyacinths – the sun of its fortune sinks forever into the mud and mire.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáner sheś kotháya ke jáne,
Ke jáne go ke jáne,
Anubhúti gáner doláy bhese jáy,
Máná ná máne.

Gáne vasudhá beṋce áche,
Gáner sudháya práń bhareche,
Sriśt́i-sthiti-prańásh náce gáneri abhijiṋáne.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 16/9/86

Where does the song end? Who can say?
Who can say, my friend, who can say?
Feelings swayed by melodies drift on,
Heedless of any restrictions.

The sun rises with melodies of song
Amid crimson colours of music,
The love within music wafts with the pollen
Stirring life into rhythm.

Music keeps the earth alive,
The nectar of music inundates all hearts,
Music symbolizes the eternal dance of creation,
preservation and destruction.

Chapter 14	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

After completing daily spiritual practice, some of you must have heard a musical sound come wafting from afar, as you are standing, sitting or walking in solitary places. The sound becomes clearer on the solitary high terrains of the Himalayas, on the plains of India, along the solitary sea-shore, on the bank of a pond hemmed in by Palmyra trees in Bengal, at Ánandanagar and in undulating river girdles. Suppose disembodied entities are singing kiirtana somewhere. Overwhelmed with the devotional flow of kiirtana, you are listening to that ecstatic music. Whenever the mind gets inundated with even a little flow of devotion, it can hear this meditative music coming from afar. This is in fact the great attraction of the Supreme Entity’s cosmic momentum emanating from the Cosmic Hub. It is said that these strains are sung by disembodied entities like apsarás. Apsarás are those who, from a temporal viewpoint, do not possess bodies made from the five fundamental factors. The virtuous who, after death, have retained a few but not all of the five fundamental factors are called apsarás. In bygone days, people imagined that apsarás were very handsome or lovely. In colloquial Bengali, they are called parii or fairies, and those who are the paragon of beauty are called dánákát́á parii or fairies whose wings have been cut off. In those days, handsome men were also called apsarás. Bridegrooms used to be compared to apsarás. During my stay in Thailand, I saw that the name of a main thoroughfare there is Apsará Road. In a song of Prabháta Saḿgiita, composed in the Himalayas, there is a line:

Apsaráder deshe ese manke jánilám.

[Coming to the land of the apsarás (nymphs of paradise), I came to know my own mind.]

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Apsaráder deshe ese manke jánilám;
Aruń áloy bhálabese dinke cinilám .

Rauṋer ámej lágla cokhe,
Madhur parash jágala vuke;
Marmapriiti mohan giiti mane áṋkilám.

Bilaspur, 6/3/84

Coming to the land of the apsarás, I came to know my own mind,
In love with crimson light, I recognize the dawn.

Beneath the pedestal of the blue sky, amidst green leaves and colourful blooms,
I now accept human beings, hills and the forest-fairies are one and indivisible.

The eyes are caressed by colours,
The heart throbs in the sweet touch of the Divine.
Upon my mind, I portray His love and magic music.

Chapter 15	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The combined name of dance, song and instrumental music is saḿgiita (sam + gae + kta). What is sung meticulously, emitting sound in a pleasing sequence in unison with melody, rhythm and beat is giita (song). And if it gets associated with dance and instrumental music, it becomes saḿgiita. With these components remaining intact, if a song is sung with or without sonority, it is called sáma. In any case, this saḿgiita is nothing but gandharva vidyá (science of music). At the first stage it is to be learnt (shikś), then knowing (jiṋá) is required, which calls for the subjectivization of external objectivity. Later it must be made part and parcel of one’s nature. And when it becomes such, it is worthy to be termed gandharva vidyá.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

What is the pure psychic approach? When you receive an object or an idea through either the ocular or auricular nerves you should bring it into a certain rhythm: your object of vision or ideation should dance rhythmically. Such a rhythmic vibration can rectify the defects in the eyes, ears and tongue. For this very purpose the rágas and rágińiis were created: whatever the mind receives through rhythm and melody brings about this proper adjustment. There is no scope for any deviation this way or that. On this basis, Sadáshiva developed the science of musical notes, svara shástra or svarodaya, or shabda shástra. Due to the strict rules as outlined in svara shástra, there is no room for any deviation at the time of singing. If any deviation is attempted, one will have to break the established rules.

While attempting to go beyond the set rules, kheyál was invented and in adjustment with tál (metre), gazal was composed. Indo-Aryan music is based on a system, a rhythm; there is no room for any mistake, no scope for deviation.

When kiirtana first began to develop, it did not have any hard and fast rules, just as folk songs do not conform to hard and fast rules. [[Kiirtana adopted hard and fast rules later on.]] Just as the different schools (gharáńá) of rága and ráginii evolved out of various rhythmic expressions, similarly, as soon as kiirtana was brought within the framework of fixed rules, it came to be elevated from folk music to classical music.

Chapter 16	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Another meaning of gáyan is the rule, method or style of singing songs. In various countries songs are sung differently at particular stages of time in diverse rágas and rágińiis. Again, the style of rendition varies from one saḿgiitajiṋa or virtuoso to another … It is bound to vary with changes in the traditional style of rendition (gharáńás) created by noted families of musicians.

Yes, why have I used here the word saḿgiitajiṋa [virtuoso] and not saḿgiit shilpii for an artist? In Sanskrit, the word shilpana means an activity done with one’s hands that requires artistic skill (in a word, handicraft). Suppose, a certain carpenter made a bedstead. It was done with his or her hands. Hence we shall say that the bedstead is a handicraft and the carpenter an artist. But the song sung by a singer is in no way a work done by hand. So the word saḿgiita shilpii is a misnomer. Be that as it may, those who play a musical instrument have scope to display the dexterity of their hands. Hence you can call an instrumentalist an artist.

Chapter 17	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You know that, according to the science of acoustics, the origin or the seed of a word remains in latent form in paráshakti [the primordial desire for expression]. The latent or dormant condition of a word is called pará. At the first stage of expression, one visualizes that word with one’s inner eye. Then it takes the name of pashyanti (the feminine gender of pashyat with the suffix shatr). Thereafter, the stage of continuous effort that goes on from the navel to the vocal cord regions to transform the visualized word from mental image into an expressible state or language is called madhyamá. The stage that follows this madhyamá, when it goes on pushing … stirring the uvula continuously, is known as dyotamáná. Afterwards, when, with the help of the uvula, it is transformed into an audible sound, it is called vaekharii. At last, when borne by the uvula, it comes out between the parted lips, it is shrutigocará. This very vaekharii shakti manifests itself through the uvula. When human beings attain proficiency in controlling vaekharii power by dint of spiritual sadhana, it is called vaekharii siddhi. Even without following systematic spiritual practice, through continuous normal practice also one can gain control over this vaekharii shakti, though only to some extent. The power required to issue commands or to give orders is called galavaekharii. With the help of this galavaekharii, human beings can augment the depth of the sound, and according to their sweet will can add a quiver to the voice. Adding sweetness to a quivering voice nonetheless warrants concentration of mind in the kúrma nád́ii [energy channels related to vocal cord] which is close to the centre of vaekharii power. Even if the measure of sweetness in the vaekharii shakti is little, this will not be so in the kúrma nád́ii. Insufficient knowledge notwithstanding, many so called scholars triumph over their rivals in a battle of logic by dint of sheer vaekharii shakti. But the ship of their erudition leaks when they have to cope with real pandits.

Vák vaekharii shabdajharii shástravyákhyánakaoshalam
Vaeduśyaḿ viduśaḿ tadvat bhuktaye na tu muktaye.

[Simply by playing on words and thereby confusing people, a section of so-called learned pandits may derive intellectual pleasure, their intellectual thirst may be quenched, but the human heart remains unsatisfied. These intellectuals, steeped in intellectual vanity, may get temporary satisfaction, but they can never attain salvation.]

Chapter 18	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Human beings have been practicing songs since prehistoric times. Once word had first started to form through the human mouth, songs followed close behind, somewhat like the “u” that follows “q”. Even in the first mańd́ala of the ancient Rgveda, we find songs primarily in long and elongated voices. In the Yajurvedic age also we find songs in short, long and elongated forms. In the Atharvaveda as well, we come across songs – chiefly in short and long voices– although we can not say that elongated forms are totally absent.

Vedic songs and modern songs are different in their themes. The beat or sequence of strokes has undergone changes, and new musical instruments have been invented. The viiń of the Vedic Age has metamorphosed into various stringed instruments.⁽¹⁾ These instruments, in synchronization with delicate human voices, have spread the sweetness of music through the atmosphere and the firmament across the horizon. Singing a song certainly requires the use of the uvula (lambiká, kushańd́iká, alijihvá, galashuńd́iká). As the uvula came under strain at the time of singing, in ancient times, just as today, the uvula and other parts of the throat contracted diseases and become painful. In the remote past, people tied gossamer or pashm to the end of a slender stick, dipped it into warm honey and anointed the uvula and other affected parts of the throat.⁽²⁾ Some people used warm or fresh ghee in the same way. It is difficult to say definitively whether people of the Rgvedic Age were familiar with black pepper; however, they certainly became familiar with it in the Yajurvedic Age. During the Rgvedic Age people inhabited the cold regions. To them, threads meant gossamer or pashm. The Hindi word un has its origin in the word urńa (gossamer), the etymology being urńá > uńńá > uńa. The use of nasal ́n’ (n) in the Hindi word una is, therefore, a mistake. The cerebral ́n’ (ń) ought to be used.

Pashm is a Persian word. Pashm means gossamer or fleece, but in Persian it means hair of all kinds.

In any case, the people of the Vedic age were familiar with gossamer. Hence at the time of observing last rites, people of bygone times used to offer gossamer in the name of offering cloth to the departed souls. In that age, during the Vedic rituals pertaining to the rites of yajiṋopaviita [the wearing of sacred threads as religious symbols], the practice of using threads was not in vogue, because cotton (kárpás) was then unknown to people. To serve the purpose of yajiṋopaviita, they would use a wild animal’s skin or sheepskin with little gossamer on the left shoulder.

Yes, probably in the Yajurvedic Age, people first came into contact with cotton. Kárpás (cotton) is a Sanskrit word of Middle Age which intrinsically meant a material with which something is fastened. From kárpás has come the word kápás. In Hindi, it is kapás and in Marathi, it is kápus. The indigenous word for kápás in Angika and Maithili is báuṋgá.

Yes, hence in the Yajurvedic age, if a singer, male or female, suffered from sore throat, they used to fasten cotton to a slender stick or coconut stick (the indigenous Bengali word for coconut stick is khyángrá), soak it in warm ghee or black pepper powder and use it to rub the affected parts of the throat [as throat-paint]⁽³⁾.

Footnotes

(1) Shiva, who invented viiń, “was born during the last part of Rgvedic age and the first part of the Yajurvedic age.” –Trans.

(2) See also “The Cosmic Ideation and Unit Ideation of Rágas and Rágińiis”, and see four paragraphs below. –Trans.

(3) See also “The Cosmic Ideation and Unit Ideation of Rágas and Rágińiis”, and see four paragraphs above. –Trans.

Chapter 19	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Songs and poems that have preponderance of soft and soothing sounds are called komalagiiti. Generally in poetry and lyrics, letters belonging to ca varga and ta varga are considered to be komala [soft], those of ka varga and pa varga are regarded as medium, and those of t́a varga⁽¹⁾ are considered hard. Lyrics sound sweet if letters belonging to the komala vargas [ca varga and ta varga] are used properly within the various lines. The sweetness is enhanced and becomes more pronounced if kathor dhvani [hard sounds – major notes or tones] are scattered through the lines, followed immediately by komala dhvani [soft sounds – minor notes or semi-tones]. Suppose one takes a lot of sweets and hence the tongue loses its desire to taste. If some piquant sauce is then taken, the capacity of the tongue to go on tasting will be restored and enhanced. The situation is exactly like that. Since the Bengali, Maethili, Gujarati, Urdu and French languages have predominantly komala svara [Soft-Sounding letters], they sound quite sweet.

Footnotes

(1) ca varga – ca, cha, ja, jha, iṋa
ta varga – ta, tha, da, dha, na
ka varga – ka, kha, ga, gha, uṋa
pa varga – pa, pha, va, bha, ma
t́a varga – t́a, t́ha, d́a, d́ha, ńa.
–Trans.

Chapter 20	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

To the east of the Arabian Sea, the middle part of the Konkana coast or the western part of Mysore (now known as Karnataka) is called Kodańd́abhumi. In other words, the ancient name of the regions of north Kanarah, south Kanarah and Goa (Gomantaka) etc. is known as Kodańd́a. Accordingly, to some, the southern branch of Indo-Aryan music is Carnatic music, while others say it is Kodańd́a music or Deccan music. The southern branch of Indo-Aryan music is rich in rhythm. Moreover, the Kodańd́a music exquisitely harmonizes swift and slow tempos of rhythm.

Chapter 21	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The world is rhythmic. The subtler reverberations in human brains which manifest themselves in the realm of language are the first mundane expressions of the subtle world. Hence the sound tanmátra⁽¹⁾ is the subtlest of tanmátras. Whether or not an individual is educated, he or she can give ecstatic expression to his or her deep feelings only through language. One may say that the subtlest stratum of art is the lines of drawing, and not words or language spoken or written. This is true, but are not “drawing” and “writing” here just two different names for language? “Aban Tagore writes pictures.” What is the meaning here of the word “writes”? It means that he actually writes language [through painting]. Human beings cannot express in the form of spoken language even one per- cent of what they feel deep inside; they cannot express in writing everything that they can express in spoken language; and they cannot express through drawings everything that they can express in writing. This is why I said elsewhere that the art of painting is a subtler art - because here even higher expressions remain confined within a few lines of drawing. It is like a violin, which has no frets, amid musical instruments studded with frets.⁽²⁾ But the fact of the matter is that the expression is purely acoustic. The resonance of wisdom that lies within these acoustic expressions easily captivates the human mind and seizes human attention, carrying it to the realm of ideas. This evidently happened in the past due to the inspiration created by the Shaeva ideal of Lord Sadáshiva, and thus it was possible to distribute the taste of aesthetic feelings through the medium of the inner sweetness of the human mind. This is Ráŕh’s Baul,⁽³⁾ and that Baul is thoroughly drenched with Shaeva Dharma. The spirit of Baul is: “I am unable to embrace Him and make Him my own – Him whom I know, recognize and realize, and who is my nearest kin, my life and soul (in Rabindranath’s words jiivan devatá) – and in a bid to embrace Him, I roam about, searching him vigorously in heaven, earth and the nether world.”

“Ráŕher Bául, Ráŕher Bául, káre tumi cáo?”
“Cái yáháre pái ne táre kotháy bale dáo.”

[“O Baul of Ráŕh, O Baul of Ráŕh, tell me whom you want.”
“I cannot find Him whom I want, O tell me where He is.”]

If Shiva is the life and soul not only of Ráŕh, but also of the world, we can say that Baul is the worldly reverberation of the Shaeva ideals.

I have already said that kiirtana is prevalent in various places and various forms. But one of the reasons for the ineffability and divine sweetness of Ráŕh’s kiirtana is that it is inspired by the ideas embodied in Baul. The other kinds of affair related to vocal and instrumental music are concerned with body and mind, i.e., their appeal is to body and mind. And therein lies their supremacy and other-worldly charm which can be touched, yet cannot be touched. Ráŕh’s kiirtana, on the other hand, based on Baul, appeals to the mind and also to the soul. So the kiirtana of Ráŕh not only overwhelms the human mind; it causes a person to become completely lost. Kiirtana composed according to nandana vijiṋána induces in a person the tactual perception of mohana vijiṋána⁽⁴⁾. The kiirtana of Ráŕh is not merely saḿgiita [song, dance and instrumental music]; it sways the finite humankind with the vibration of the unlimited and infinite; it makes humans in their little homes hear the call of the far-away blue firmament. Hence it is outstanding and unparalleled.

Kiirtane ár báuler gáne ámrá diyechi khuli,
Maner gopane nibhrta bhuvane dvár chila yataguli.

-Satyendranath Dutta

[Through kiirtana and Baul songs we have opened up –
Opened up all the doors hidden in our minds and in our solitary worlds.]

Let me say one more thing. Kiirtana is not like Baul, which is more verbal than written. Kiirtana is both verbal and written. So of course kiirtana comes within the purview not only of culture, but also of literature.

The life of Ráŕh is ensconced in Baul. The psychology of the people there is basically to be content with little. Once their bare subsistence is more or less assured, they no longer run after money.

The jhumur songs of Ráŕh fall within that part of literature which is connected neither with hita [welfare] nor with ahita [troubles]. I do not mean to say by this that jhumur songs are lacking in subtlety; subtlety is very much there. [Jhumur songs can delight people as long as they are not inclined towards ahita.] Jhumur songs are indigenous to Ráŕh. Bhavakritananda Ojha of Deoghar was the main composer of jhumur songs. Another important composer was Pachai Shaikh of Manbhum. Here is an example of a jhumur song:

Kata baul phot́e-e-e-e-e
Pather dháre go pather dháre,
U gánye yába nái, yába nái, yába nái re.
U gánye yeitye man keman kare
Kiser neshá yena jaŕáni dhare,
D́ar láge kakhan ke cupisáŕe
Yadi paráń káŕe.
U gánye yába nái, yába nái, yába nái re.
U gánye tháke ke jáni nái nám,
Shudhu kánkan váje kár shuńechilam
Hámár buk kana kana sei theikye gela nái re
Dekhái yata ojhá re
U gánye yába nái, yába nái, yába nái re.
Tabu gharke yeitye man náhi sare,
Damká háoyá yena mátál kare,
Mahul phuler jhánjhe neshá dhare,
I rager⁽⁵⁾ upáy kii bale de, bale de re
U gánye yába nái, yába nái, yába nái re.

–Kataras, Dhanbad

[How many bauls⁽⁶⁾ bloom-m-m-m-m
By the side of the path, lo, by the side of the path,
To that village I shall not go, shall not go, shall not go.
To that village I long to go
Inebriated I feel
Afraid lest someone gently
Take my life away.
To that village I shall not go, shall not go, shall not go.
Who lives there I don’t know her name,
Only heard her bangle jingle
Since then the throbs of my heart still nagging
All exorcists have failed.
To that village I shall not go, shall not go, shall not go.
Still undecided to go home,
As though a gusty wind makes me drunken,
Pungent mahul flowers intoxicate me,
Tell me, tell me, the remedy of this malady
To that village I shall not go, shall not go, shall not go.]

What we mean by márga saḿgiita, or classical music, is to control and direct musical notes and rhythmic expression through an approach based on acoustic science and psychology. This classical music (dance-song-instruments) takes on different characteristics in different places. These local characteristics are called gharáńás [styles particular to particular places]. Ráŕhii kiirtana also has four such styles, viz., 1) Manoharshahii, 2) Garanhata, 3) Reneti and 4) Mandaran. In other forms of musical culture also, besides kiirtana, Ráŕh had its own styles. Vishnupur, the capital of Mallabhum, for centuries occupied the highest place in the classical expression of music. Most of the famous singers not only of Ráŕh, but also of Bengal as a whole, hail from Vishnupur or its neighbouring areas. Due to a lack of proper effort and zeal, the Vishnupur style is now on the brink of ruin.

Footnotes

(1) Literally, “minutest fraction of that,” i.e.. of a given rudimental factor of matter. Also translated “generic essence” of “inferential wave”. The various types of tanmátras convey the senses of hearing, touch, form (vision), taste and smell. –Trans.

(2) In A Few Problems Solved Part 1, “The Practice of Art and Literature”, the author has said: “Yet it is in painting and sculpture, which are considered the subtlest of all arts, that we find the true expression of the wonderful aesthetic sense of the human mind. In the calm stillness of a painting or a sculpture, all has to be vividly expressed – laughter and tears, hopes and fears, gestures and language. Indeed, it is the arts of painting and sculpture that beautifully bridge the gap between the mundane and the supramundane.” –Trans.

(3) [[“Baul” most often refers to a community of singers, but it can also refer to an individual member of that community or to the school of music followed by that community. –Trans.]]

(4) Nandana vijiṋána [aesthetic science] is the science of giving joy to others and getting joy from others. Mohana vijiṋána [supra-aesthetic science] is the science by which the supreme draws the microcosms closer to Himself through inferential and other ectoplasmic attractions, or by attracting others to Himself through His irresistible charms. It is the endeavour to ensconce the microcosmic entity, the individual entitative rhythm, in the eternal being, the infinite rhythm of Parama Puruśa. Other music comes within the scope of aesthetic science, but kiirtana comes within the scope of mohana vijiṋána. So of all the branches of music, kiirtana is the best. –Trans.

(5) In the rural language of Rárh, many persons pronounce the word as rag instead of rog [disease]. For example, the word bara rag is used for the disease of leprosy.

(6) Baul means the bakul flower (Spanish cherry, Minuspos elangi) and is not related to Bául, i.e., Bauls. The author has noted here; “In Ráŕhii Bengali, bakul is pronounced baul, e.g., Bakulpur > Baulpur > Bolpur.” –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Tu jakhan áschili mur ghar ke re nit́hur
Mu takhan bhálchili tuke maul rukher áŕále vaisye;
Tur cikan shyámal ánan komal hásite madhur;
Chila je mur nayane mishye.

Sei theikye man kathá shuńe ná, kona mánái mur máne ná;
Belá abelá jáne ná, Tuke cháŕá kichu cáhe ná;
Ráte dine sáṋjh viháne Tukei khuṋje pátál ákáshe.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 24/12/86

When You were coming home, O heartless one,
I was watching You from behind the maul⁽¹⁾ tree,
Your soft lustrous dusky loving face, sweetly smiling,
Got etched in my eyes.

The collyrium of my eyes and the tears of my trance
Were flowing in one stream,
The peacock of my mind, crowned with an ornament,
Was dancing in self-oblivion;
Suddenly You came and left for a far-off land, by whose magic charm?

Since then, my mind no longer listens to me, nor does it heed when I forbid;
It knows no hours, odd or normal, it seeks no one but You;
Night and day, dusk and dawn, it seeks You in hell and in the sky.

Footnotes

(1) Mahuyá, Indian olive (Madhuca indica J.F. Gmel). –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Ei ná! Sońá-jhará prabháte álo-bhará nishiithe,
Svapna-gherá Ajay⁽¹⁾ tire din je ket́e jáy,
Ámár din je ket́e jáy.

He nad, tomáy bási bhálo, tumi ámár áshár álo,
Tava dyuti t́hikre paŕe svarńaválukáy.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 3/10/83

Look! Yonder, through many a golden dawn and effulgent night,
My days glide along the banks of the river Ajay, surrounded by colourful dreams.
The river streams dancing down the cákái hill,
The river races on to eastern lands in harmony with the tune of Hiuṋgulá and Kunur.

The red soil of Birbhum and the green villages of Vardhamán,
Touching all serene hearts, merge in the borders of Nadia.

The river, sanctified by the dust of Tagore’s feet,
Remains ever fragrant with the perfume of nágkeshara flowers amidst exquisitely sweet beauty.

O river, I love you; you are the light of my hope,
Your radiance bounces off the glittering golden sands.

Footnotes

(1) A big river that passes through different districts including Birbhum, Vardhaman, Nadia districts of West Bengal. – Trans.

(2) A mountain situated in Jharkhand–Bihar border areas wherefrom river Ajay originates. – Trans.

(3) A tributary of river Ajay. – Trans.

(4) A tributary of river Ajay. – Trans.

(5) A district which is considered to be the birth place of Baul. – Trans.

(6) Another adjacent district locally written as burdwan. – Trans.

(7) A district in the plains of West Bengal. – Trans.

(8) Ravindranath Tagore. – Trans.

(9) A variety of magnolia flower. – Trans.

Chapter 22	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

When a boat is rowed downstream, how do you express it in Bengali? It is said – váṋt́ite cáláno hocche naoká [“the boat is being propelled in down stream”]. There is no need of any effort at that time. If the sail is set, the boat moves smoothly. Since [in bhát́i, downstream movement] there is no need to toil, the song which is sung at that time is called bhát́iyáli. Since there is no labour involved here, the boat is being propelled by the wind. The boat is racing along with the sail unfurled. Since one has more leisure, one has at least five minutes to prolong the sound while singing bandhure [“Oh! My friend …”] in an elongated style. But when the boat is moving upstream, one has to struggle against the tide. Then one has to utter a battling sound like hṋei…. hṋei… [“pull… pull…”] while struggling against the current. It is strenuous exercise for the oarsman as well as for the boatman. Under such circumstances, there is not enough leisure to sing bandhure… in a prolonged style.

Káiye dhán kháilore
   Khedáner mánuś nái
Kháivár beláy áche mánuś
   Kámer beláye nái.
   Kámer mánuś nái.

[Look, the crow eats up the paddy,
There is no one to scare it away;
Most men only eat, do not work,
People of action are indeed scarce.]

While pronouncing this, one has to give stress. Every syllable is accented.⁽¹⁾

There are different expressions in human existence. What do these expressions signify? Some are concerned with existence, livelihood, life and death, and some others pertain to the domain of nandana vijiṋána. Nandana vijiṋána – “aesthetic science” in English – is the science which has for its basis the joy derived from the expressions of the mind at different stages or from the various ways in which the mind becomes concentrated in its different expressions.

The influence of the environment on various expressions of aesthetic science can hardly be denied. Although they are basically psychic in nature, the definite influence of the environment can never be disputed, because a certain environment, a certain ambience, leads the mind to a certain state. The songs which you like singing in the blinding darkness, the kind of thoughts that come to your mind, the kind of sadhana you yearn to pursue, are not what they would be on a moonlit night. For that is an altogether different environment.⁽²⁾

Environment has a tremendous impact on every human expression. The gigantic River Padma is racing ahead. Neither side of it can be seen. One is overtaken by the feeling that the unfamiliar environment surrounding me is verily my friend. Because there is no other friend around. There is no one else by my side. Then whom do I find as my friend? Yes, I find the unknown environment to be my only friend. Hence, addressing this unknown environment, I sing out bandhure … [“Oh! My friend”], prolonging, in particular, the re [“oh”] sound so that this elongated re sound, while floating along with the sonic vibrations of nature, merges with the Unknown Friend. This is the speciality of bhát́iyáli songs. And what is the speciality of bháoyáiyá [the song which is sung when the boat is moving upstream]? The characteristic of bháoyáiyá is that it will propel human’s working power, working will and working zeal, towards a known environment and not towards the Unknown Friend. I am toiling hard to move towards my own home. The bháoyáiyá of Bengal is based on this.

Human progress can take place in the material world or in aesthetic science. What is the speciality of this aesthetic science? When does aesthetic science become sweet and fascinating? It becomes so when internal psychic expressions move towards the supra-sensuous. It becomes crude in the absence of the supra-sensuous. But when there is dominance of the supra-sensuous, it establishes human beings in intuitive ideation (prajiṋábháva). When we cultivate a particular part or aspect of the science of music or aesthetic science, it is to be remembered that aesthetic science will have to be based on mysticism. What is mysticism? Mysticism is the never-ending endeavour to find out a link between the finite and the Infinite. I do not find any proper synonym in Bengali. I call it mystikváda. Some call it rahasyaváda. But it is not logically sound.

Humanity, in its all-out quest for this aesthetic science, attained spirituality. One must acknowledge this. Herein lies the excellence of aesthetic science. For this reason, I have given my whole-hearted and explicit support for nandana vijiṋána. You know that there are certain religions which do not encourage aesthetic pursuits. You will notice that in those religions inertia, inferiority complexes and a sense of violence are predominant.

Footnotes

(1) [[Some Bengali poetry and commentary on the poetry omitted here. –Trans.]]

(2) [[Four paragraphs omitted here. –Trans.]]

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Ujána: Ut – ja + anat. Movement in an upward direction is called ujána. The natural flow of a river is from the hill to the ocean, that is, downstream (bhát́i). If the flow is unnatural and reverse, i.e., if it is from the ocean to the hill, it will be called ujána. When a boat moves downstream, it sails along the flow of currents. If the wind blows in its favour, and the sail is raised, it moves very smoothly. The boatsman only has to rest holding the rudder. The oarsmen have hardly anything to do. In that situation, the song people sing in an open voice, in elongated sound, that song sung with the downstream flow, is, in Bengali, called bhát́iyáli. If the movement is from the sea to the hill, i.e., if it is upstream, the oarsmen have to make hard toil. Making a sound like hṋeiyo, hṋeiyo, they have to enhance their finger movement. At that time, it is well nigh impossible to sing in an open voice. And to sing in an elongated voice is still more impossible. This song sung when moving upstream should have been called ujániá or ujiálii. But in Bengali, this kind of song is generally called bháoyáiyá. In Bengal, the people living in areas where rivers flow uphill are called ujánii or ujániá. They are called similarly in Assam. For example, areas like Shivsagar, Tinsukia, Dibrugarh, etc. are called ujána Assam. And areas like Kamrup, Nawgong are called bhát́i Assam.

Chapter 23	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Áj bhát́ir t́áne priitir gáne tariikháni hacche cáláte,
Ei álo-jhará sudháy bhará paráń-káŕá cándra nishiithe.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 30/9/83

Today, rowing downstream, singing the song of love, I glide the boat along,
On this effulgent and enchanting moonlit night filled with nectar divine.

Chapter 24	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You know that even before Sadáshiva there was dance, there was music; people used to sing, also; but everything was in a disorderly manner. The dexterous hands of Sadáshiva made it a science – rather, an artistic science.

It is not an easy job to dance properly and correctly. The fundamental requirements, or the fundamental spirit, of dance, instrumental music, and song were brought within the framework of science by Sadáshiva, and that is why He is also known as “Nat́arája”: “Nat́arája” means “King of the Dancers”. (And another name of Sadáshiva is “Nádatanu”, that is, “music personified”.)

Dance is a highly-developed art. In the Oriental variety of music, you know, three items come within the fold of saḿgiita, or music: dance, song, and instrumental music. The collective name in Sanskrit is saḿgiita. Lord Sadáshiva brought everything within the framework of science, and just now I called it “artistic science”.

In the Oriental variety of dance there are several mudrás, that is, postures. When giving something to a living being, the mudrá is like this [demonstrates]. When giving something to something past, not present in the world, the mudrá is like this [demonstrates]. The “don’t fear” mudrá is like this. The “take what you want” mudrá is like this. The “come forward” mudrá is like this. The “be serpentine” mudrá is like this. “Be subtle, maintain a link with the earth” is like this. There are so many mudrás used in the Oriental variety of dance. It is not an easy job to learn it, but rather a very difficult job.

Now the fundamentality, or rather the primordial phase of Oriental dance, is táńd́ava. It is not a very easy job either. The knees must cross the navel. When they cross the navel it is called Brahma táńd́ava. When they cross the anáhata [mid-point of the chest] it is called Viśńu táńd́ava. When they cross this portion [indicates the throat], it is called Rudra táńd́ava. It is very difficult to dance Rudra táńd́ava. It requires long practice.

That is why Lord Sadáshiva is known as Nat́arája. And when these boys [indicates them] were dancing, it was just like a picture of Nat́arája in táńd́ava mudrá. It is called táńd́ava; táńd́ava is a mudrá.

Why is it called táńd́ava? In Sanskrit tańd́ means “to jump”. Tańd́u means “of jumping habit”. Táńd́ava means “having the use of tańd́u, the use of jumping”. But jumping in the proper style, not in a disorderly manner. You should learn it properly in a disciplined way.

And táńd́ava represents life; you know Tantra is a cult of life, it is not a cult of death. For Tantra you should be strong physically, mentally and spiritually. First in the present tense; Lord Shiva says all your expressions, all your manifestations, must be based on the present tense. So this táńd́ava is the starting phase of Tantra.

This táńd́ava I said represents life, it represents vitality. There are so many forces that want to destroy you, so many forces forces that are inimical to you by nature. Say a snake – a snake is a born enemy. There are many such born enemies. As Tantra represents life, táńd́ava says that one’s spirit should be based on vitality, based on the principle of survival.

This human skull represents death. You are surrounded by death, but you must not be defeated, you must not develop the psychology of fear or defeatism. So the knife is with you to fight against death.⁽¹⁾ Yours is a fight for survival. In the daytime one may also use a snake to represent death – not an ordinary snake, but a venomous snake. In India our boys dance with a snake. But at nighttime neither a skull nor a snake will be visible. Here there is light, they will be visible, but in a burial ground, in a cremation ground, where there is darkness, a snake or skull will not be visible. There you may use fire to represent death.

This is the spirit of Tantra. To fight, to fight for survival. [[It is the normal wont of all living beings to fight for survival.]] It is normal life moving towards the supreme state of abnormality.

Lord Shiva started this táńd́ava dance, and his spouse, Párvatii, started the lalita dance, lalita mármika. What you did just at present while singing kiirtana, that is called lalita. Lalita represents that now we are enjoying bliss, we are in a happy mood. We are in a happy mood, and the hands should be above ninety degrees. Do you follow? I think you followed me. Lalita represents a happy mood, and it was invented by Párvatii, Lord Shiva’s spouse. Lalita helps people in their spiritual progress and psychic expansion.

Now the devas, the Tantrics of that era, about seven thousand years ago, learned táńd́ava and lalita and wanted there to be a musical expression for the general public. That is your RAWA.⁽²⁾

For the general public there was the middle course. This middle course is called madhyama márga in Sanskrit, majhjhimá mágga in Buddhist scriptures. And that path, where the subtle aspects of spirituality combined with the subtle aspects of vitality, was represented by [tála].

A middle course was invented, and in Oriental music it is called tála. Oriental music is based on tála. Tála means – the first sound of táńd́ava is tá, and the first sound of lalita is la – tá plus la.

Yes, this was the origin. And on the basis of tála, Oriental music invented so many rágas and ráginiis, so many tunes and sub-tunes, in the hoary past.

Now in all of South Asia and Southeast Asia the music is based on this tála. It is the happy blending of táńd́ava and lalita, and in it there are two main offshoots. One is known as the Áryávarta offshoot, from Persia to Vietnam, and the other is the Dákśińátya offshoot of all South India, Ceylon, Indonesia, Malaysia and up to Australia.

This is the science, and this science was invented by Sadáshiva. It is to be learned with proper care and proper respect. These boys displayed excellently what I am trying to say. I am extremely pleased with the sweetness they displayed.

Footnotes

(1) Táńd́ava is performed with a skull or a snake in the left hand, and a knife or d́ambaru [a small drum shaped like an hourglass] in the right hand. Regarding the use of fire (a mashál, a torch), compare the last sentence of this paragraph with “Táńd́ava Dance – What and Why?” in the author’s Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music. –Eds.

(2) Renaissance Artists’ and Writers’ Association. –Eds.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Táńd́av náce metecha he Bhaerav,
Kálbhaerav;
Dhurjat́ijat́á khulecho,
Vilále vaebhav.

Nágpásheri bandhanete
Baddha járá chilo cite;
Táder báṋdhan khule’ dite
Jágla viśán rav.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 24/12/85

O Bhaerav!⁽¹⁾ You are rapt in the táńd́ava dance,⁽²⁾
You are Kálbhaerav!⁽³⁾
You have undone Your matted hair,
You shower Your spiritual wealth to all.

In the turbulence of Your rhythms and beats
The tranquil earth was stirred into intoxication,
The heat of volcanoes spurred all atoms to dance.

Those who were tied with snake-snares,
Those whose minds were closed –
To untie their knots,
The sound of Your horn roared in.

Footnotes

(1) In mythology, a fearsome manifestation of Shiva. –Trans.

(2) A vigorous dance for male spiritual aspirants, originally formulated by Shiva. It develops the glands in a way that enhances courage and fearlessness. When Shiva Himself does this dance (Shiva Nat́arája), the dance becomes a metaphor in which Supreme Consciousness sends vibrations throughout the universe and causes all objects of the universe in turn to radiate vibrations. –Trans.

(3) In mythology, a yet more fearsome manifestation of Shiva. –Trans.

Chapter 25	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

You know about the cultural diversities among the Aryans and the non-Aryans. In the land of the non-Aryans, the instrument by which paddy and other such grains are threshed is called dheṋki in Bengali. According to the system of Aryan civilization, that which is used for threshing is called udukhala.⁽¹⁾ In Hindi, it is kupri. There is no Sanskrit equivalent of dheṋki. Dheṋki is an indigenous expression.

So the Aryans used the term udukhala. One has to strain oneself more while using the udukhala. One has to exert the strength of the hand for threshing. This is not done while using the dheṋki, only the leg is used. In udukhala, one has to thresh using the hands. Particles jump up while the dheṋki is used; so is the case with the udukhala. The rice granules bounce about, and in the course of this jumping, rice is prepared. Rice cannot come out of the paddy without this jumping. So, that whose nature is to jump is called tańd́ula in Sanskrit. Tańd́u + la + da become tańd́ula. The Bengali equivalent of tańd́ula is cául. In contemporary Bengali, it is cál. Cául used to be sold [in the market] during the period of the Mauṋgalkávya.⁽²⁾

In the Mauṋgalkávya, there is a description: One day at noon, on returning from the cremation ground, Shiva said to Párvatii, “Give me rice.” What did Párvatii reply? “Do you ever care to keep track of the supplies? There is nothing, the earthen pot is empty.” Then what did Shiva say?

“Shák nái, shukta nái, vyáiṋjana yadi nái
Cáulo váŕanta tabe phen bhát cái.”

[“Well, if there are no vegetables or other dishes,
And if there is no rice, then give me only rice gruel.”]

Then Párvatii observed, “If there is no rice grain, how can there be cooked rice?” Indeed, how can there be rice gruel (phen bhát) without rice (cául). Shiva retorted, “What is the matter? I received so much rice and pulse as alms; is everything exhausted already?” Then Párvatii explained the reality –

“Bhándárete rákhá chilo páli chay dhán,
Gańesher muśáte karilo jalpán.”

[“We had some six measures of rice in our storeroom,
But the mouse of Gańesha ate them for breakfast.”]

The Bengali word [for dhán, uncooked rice] is cául. How is cául derived? As “that which has been cálá [winnowed] >by a súrpa or kulo [a winnowing basket].” How is it winnowed? First the chaff is separated out, then the khud [small fragments], then the husk; then only does one get cául or cál [uncooked rice]. The word khud is derived from the Sanskrit word kśudra. So, that which is left after being sifted is called cául. In old Bengali it is cául. Anything which has been winnowed [cálá] is called cául. It may not necessarily be rice grains.

Táńd́ava is that which is related to jumping (lamphan). Táńd́ava involves ullamphan. What is the difference between lamphan and ullamphan? Lamphan involves jumping while remaining connected with the earth. One can jump while standing and touching the earth. However, when jumping high, there must be separation from the earth. This is called ́ullamphan’ (ut-lamphan = ullamphan). So what is the táńd́ava dance? Is it ullamphan or lamphan? It is ullamphan.

Sadáshiva introduced the táńd́ava dance. Why did He do that? How did He do it? There are many lymphatic glands and endocrine glands in our body. Hormones secreted from these glands permeate the entire body. The hormones secreted through táńd́ava generate greater manliness and courage in the person. That is why hormones are secreted from the lymphatic glands and greater manliness is produced in those who practise táńd́ava.

Since the practice of táńd́ava stimulates manliness, it is prohibited for women. What are other results that follow? The pineal gland (sahasrára cakra) and pituitary gland (ájiṋácakra) are activated. As a result of this, the memory is enhanced and the brain is strengthened. Cells in the brain are also strengthened. There is no specific exercise for the brain. Táńd́ava is the only exercise for the brain. So considering all these, táńd́ava dance was introduced.

But what do the dancers carry in their hands? Completeness in human life is brought about through struggles and clashes. One who loves struggle, will have to wade through struggles, and one who does not like it, will also have to pass through struggle. One cannot afford to avoid struggle. If someone says, “I do not want to struggle,” it is an impossibility. What shall such a person do when one is hit by a hammer? Then, they will go to those who love struggle and say, “Save me, brother, save me.” Is it not better that while bearing the blows, one prepares oneself to counter the challenges ahead?

If a person has the potential to give a strong counter-blow, what is the point in shying away from encounters? Now, what is the significance of objects which the dancers carry in their hands while doing táńd́ava? They signify, “I am moving ahead, wading through clashes and counter-clashes.” Force can be applied for the collective welfare as and when it is necessary.

There are three pathways in Tantra – dakśiń márga [rightward path], váma márga [leftward path] and madhyama márga [middle path]. In Buddhist philosophy there is neither right nor left path. There is only the middle path (madhyamá márga or madhyam márga). What are the things that find a place in the dancer’s hands? The dancer, may, for instance, hold a human skull in the left hand and a dagger in the right hand. Or in the daytime one may, if one wishes, hold a snake in the left hand. [At night] one may hold a d́ambaru [a small drum shaped like an hourglass] or a mashál [torch] in the right hand. One can recognize everything by the light of a torch and can understand by the sound of a drum. Otherwise at night, neither a skull nor a snake can be recognized. In the left hand, there is the symbol of destruction and death.

How does the individual move ahead? There is Hari on one side and Hara on the other. On the one side there is progress; on the other side there is destruction. While Hara symbolizes destruction, Hari symbolizes creation. The world moves on through the clash of Hari and Hara (Hariharátmaka). A small and beautiful bud appears on a plant.The flower blooms, unfolds itself completely. Till now, there is the sport of Hari. Thereafter the play of Hara begins. The petals wither and fall off, one after the other. As there is creation on the one hand, destruction awaits on the other. Sometimes we die and sometimes we live. The individual has to move ahead through struggles. One has nothing to fear. Why should one fear death? People have to attain immortality by waging war against death. This is our sadhana. Humanity is moving ahead with great speed, with the vigour and power of the Supreme Entity. Why should one yield to any obstruction? Nothing should awaken fear. Even if fear stares one in the face, one must not fear. Having been defeated, the fear will rapidly recede. The God of struggle, Sadáshiva, is the death of death. That is to say, He is as dreadful as death, for death itself.

So the individual has to keep on fighting. A person must continue to fight without any respite. The dagger is the functional symbol of struggle. So wage a vigorous struggle against obstacles that have come or shall come on the path of progress. And what should one have as one’s garment? The tiger skin or a red garment. The tiger skin (vyághracarma) in actuality means mrgacarma [forest-animal skin]. In Sanskrit, mrga means animals that live in the forest. Many think that mrga means only deer. But this is not so. All those animals that live in the forest are called mrga. Monkeys are called shákhámrga because they live on the shákhá [branches] of trees. In olden days kings used to visit the forest for hunting (mrgayá), but not only to hunt the deer. So the animal skin or the red garment means, “I am using it as my cloth by annihilating the brute force.” A red garment means that I am sitting on the mutative force and I am using the mutative quality as my outer clothing. The red colour is indicative of the mutative quality.⁽³⁾

Mrtyu tore dive háná
Váre váre pábi máná,
Ei tor nava varśer ashiirvád
Ei tor rudrer prasád.

[Death will ever haunt you,
You will be forbidden again and again,
For you, let this be the New Year’s blessing,
Let this be the grace of Lord Rudra.]

Footnotes

(1) A mortar used for grinding or husking corn. – Trans.

(2) Poetic works by various thirteenth and fourteenth century poets in Bengal such as Dharmamauṋgal, Candimauṋgal, Annadámauṋgal. – Trans.

(3) The reference about tiger skin has come here in connection with the author’s explanation of a shloka, and in that context he also explained the true meaning of the word mrga. His own teaching regarding garments for táńd́ava dance is to wear an orange garment. –Trans.

Chapter 26	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

As I show you here, when two fingers are interlocked, their movement get restrained or blocked. As a result, hands can still be moved….. other fingers can also be moved, but the relative position between the fingers remains unassailable. This mudrá has potential for expression, but it is not really getting expressed. Hence this mudrá is called koramudrá. In Indian school of dance, when conveying a gesture of yearning, this koramudrá is formed with the help of the index finger and the middle finger. For a prolonged display of koramudrá, the arrangement of fingers have to be turned upwards. Anyway, the word kora will also mean this koramudrá or special kind of finger arrangement.

Chapter 27	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

In ancient times, the full moon day in the month of kártika [seventh month of the Bengali calendar] was set apart for a special kind of dance called kaomudii dance. While singing the second line of specific song at the time of dance, the knees had to be loosened a bit.

The song of the kaomudii dance goes like this:

Ravi du cakká kahitahu pakká
ahme na karitahu adhamha sakká.

[I say firmly that one must forsake the company of dishonest persons.]

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Nrtyer tále bhuvan mátále,
Saḿgiiter sure bhásáile.
Citter końe mana-upavane
Spandan vaháiyá dile.

Alkhaniraiṋjana tháko anukśańa
Mor májhe madhuratá d́hele.

Madhukarńiká, Anandanagar, 29/5/83

With rhythmic dance You intoxicate the universe,
Flooding it with tunes of exquisite music.
In an inner corner of my heart-mind grove,
You released a deluge of divine vibrations.

Come near, come nearer still,
Within the grasp of my touch and reach,
As You dye me with Your myriad forms and hues.

O invisible and immaculate, stay ever near,
Pouring into me Your ambrosial nectar.

Chapter 28	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

To communicate ideas through gesture and posture is called “mudrá”. In the East, we find that dance is dominated by mudrá, and in the West, we find that it is dominated by rhythm. Indian folk dance and classical dance are also mudrá-dominant. Mudrá is more subtle than rhythm.

What is saḿgiita or music? Singing, the playing of instruments and dancing are together called “saḿgiita”. Where there is only singing and the playing of instruments but no dance, it is called “giita”. In the time of the Mahábhárata, what Krśńa said was called “Giitá” because He only told it, He did not dance. If Krśńa had explained the nature of Dharma while dancing, then it would not have been called “Giitá”, it would have been called “Saḿgiita”.

“Yá Bhagavatá giitá sá Giitá.”

“Whatever Bhagaván has said is Giitá.”

There are six primary rágas and thirty six primary rágińiis. Today we find two types of dance in India. First, there is Aryavarta Nrtya or North Indian style. Secondly, there is Dákśinátya Nrtya or Carnatic or the South Indian style. Both styles were given by Lord Shiva, but credit for bringing them to the public goes to Maharshi Bharata.

In the Vedas there is rhythm, because most of the Vedas come from outside India. The propagators of the Veda could not go against rhythm. They had to accept rhythm but not grammar. For this reason, there are many grammatical mistakes in the Vedas.

In Tantra, mudrá is dominant. Rhythm is guided by mudrá. In a few places, the Vedas also use mudrá. For example, in shráddha (last rites) there is pińd́adán mudrá which is also called “auṋkush mudrá”. In pitr yajiṋa, there are also mudrás, which are called namah mudrá, abhaya mudrá, varada mudrá, etc., are found in the Vedas. The portion of the Vedas which was made in India [like the Atharvaveda] is responsible for these mudrás.

Instrumental music is also based on mudrá. In western countries, only instruments such as the violin are based on mudrá. Mańipurii dance, folk dance, Cho dance and Rámvásha dance, all have a predominance of mudrá. Rámvásha dance has less mudrá because it is a war dance. Cho dance⁽¹⁾, which is performed after battle during times of rest in the military camp, has more mudrá in it. The dancer only dances, and does not sing. Another person sings and narrates in song what is taking place. In the táńd́ava nrtya of Lord Shiva, there is more rhythm, and in Parvatii’s lalita dance there is the dominance of mudrá, sweet and refined. Both these dances make a person tired quickly in India because India is a hot country.

In the word “tál”, “tá” is derived from táńd́ava and “la” from lalita, so it has become tál. Tál is the adjustment of both, that is why it has become more popular.

Footnotes

(1) Cho means unusual gestures, or decorative dress or adornments. Cho dance is an ancient martial dance with decorative dress still very popular in Ráŕh areas. –Trans.

Chapter 29	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Human beings express their feelings in different ways. One way is that one brings one’s vibrations from the realm of ideation down to the physical world, makes them descend to the quinquielmental world with the help of sensory and motor organs. Another way is that with the help of the subtler artistic aspects of that expression, one transports it to one’s psychic realm making use of one’s subtler sensory feelings. The feeling human beings express in the physical realm, is called worldly action. When expression is brought to the psychic realm, it is called lalita carcana [the cultivation of fine arts]. Lalita carcana is also called simply “the fine arts” or “subtler arts”. In ancient literature, the word cárukalá [cáru means “charming” and kalá means “art”] was used more often than the word lalitakalá. Women who were adept in fine arts were known in the society of Gupta age as cárushiilá. In expression through language, it is necessary to use punctuation marks in order to properly divide and join sentences, and it is necessary to construct sentences properly. Similarly, in fine arts, the need persists and will persist forever. Such measured phases of pause and action in expressions of fine arts are also called kriyá [action]. When a dancer is expressing the sampradán [offering] of something of the subtle world, he or she uses the sampradán mudrá; in some other situation, he or she uses aiṋkush mudrá [to lend dynamism to the action]. Such phases – first a phase of sampradán mudrá, then a phase of auṋkush mudrá, the one stopping and the other starting – are also known as kriyá or action.

Chapter 30	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

The colloquial meaning of the word kolamba is a stringed instrument when it is without strings, that is, when strings are added to a kolamba it turns into a stringed instrument. The original stringed instrument is the ektárá. This ektárá [one stringed musical instrument] was invented during prehistoric times to bring resonance to the sound of the string. Shiva improved upon this ektárá and made the viiń or viińá. This viiń or viińá is the first musical instrument so devised as to maintain unison with surasaptaka or musical octave. This viiń was gradually refined and improved upon, and different other string instruments came into being, such as the sitar, esraj, violin, and so on. The violin was invented in eastern Italy and the sitar in Persia (Iran). Nearly all the other stringed instruments were invented in India. The ektárá was first used by the baul community in Ráŕh. Experienced bauls show some melodic virtuosity on the ektárá although this requires a special kind of dexterity in the fingers. If you take away the string from ektara, the part that is left we can call kolamba.

By adding the suffix kan to kolamba we get kolambaka. The lower portion of the kolamba was made from the hard, dry shell of the ripe gourd in olden times. In some places it is used still now. This shell especially helps to deepen the sound, thereby the sound becomes harmonious.

It is said that although the kat́utumbii (bitter gourd) is unsuitable as food, it makes an excellent medicine and an excellent shell for stringed instruments. This lowest portion of stringed instruments, which at one time used to be made from gourd shells, is called kolambaka.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Udayácale mana májhe ele,
Manke rauńiye dile,
Sure táne bharile
Práńe udvel kará kii tále.

Nayana meliyá jata dúre cái
Tumi cháŕá ár keha kothá nái,
Nayana mudiyá hiyáte cáhiyá
Sekháneo dekhi liilá cale.
Tava liilá cale prati pale.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 31/8/83

You came in my mind with the sunrise
Colouring all my thoughts.
You filled me with your melodies,
Overwhelming me with rhythm.

Playing Your viińá, tuned to the seven-note scale,
You remain ever ensconced in my lotus heart,
Merged in a trance of transcendental cognition.
What a unique melodies do You pour forth?

As far as my vision can stretch,
I see none but You.
Even when I close my eyes and look within,
I glimpse You,
Revealing every second Your inscrutable play.

Chapter 31	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Eka + vad + ghaiṋ. That musical instrument which produces sound in harmony (mutually related notes of the scale) is called ekaváda. Among the musical instruments familiar to us, the harmonium and the tamboura fall into this category. Among insects and animals, the cricket, owl, frog and jackal follow to some extent this same system [producing sound in harmony]. The donkey, cuckoo and Indian nightingale follow it to a limited degree. The sitar or esraj do not fall into the category of ekaváda. Some people think that ekaváda means ekatárá [a one-stringed instrument]. No, the Sanskrit word for ekatárá is samaváda, not ekaváda.

The subject of ekaváda brings back a forgotten memory. At that time myself and Prasenjit used to go to the hills every evening to practise the esraj [four-stringed bowed instrument]. The esraj belonged to Prasenjit. I was trying to see if the esraj could be played as an ekaváda or not; and, if it could, how would it effect the surasaptaka [musical octave]? In what measure would it produce major and minor notes? Things sound very different under ordinary conditions and ekaváda conditions.

Every evening, after we had been practising for a little while, we seemed to be hearing someone playing an unknown rágińii [musical tunes] on an unknown instrument coming from the distant hills. Both of us would listen for some time. We couldn’t see anyone. Sometimes we would think that we were hearing the echoes of our esraj but after a few moments we would realize our mistake because how could the echoes of the esraj last so long? And moreover what we were playing was not the rágińii we were hearing in the echo. But there was no instrumentalist, no instrument that we could see anywhere. After spending some time in that astonishing environment, we would again come down from the hills. When we would get down to the plain at the bottom, that music would disappear over the horizon.

On this particular day it had gotten quite late. Why Prasenjit hadn’t come I didn’t know. Normally he would come first and I would come later.

I was sitting there alone when that intoxicating melody, that rapturous sound, came floating over the forest of shál [Shorea robusta] and palásh [Butea monosperma] trees. I thought to myself: As long as Prasenjit is not here, nor his esraj, why don’t I go on ahead a bit and look for that unknown, unfamiliar instrumentalist.

I started climbing. The moon had come out and everything was clearly visible. After the hill where I was there was a huge, uneven plateau filled with pebbles and broken stones and a catechu jungle. A few jackals sitting under a plum tree eating plums fled when they saw me coming. A little further on I saw three or four hyenas (gobághá, háṋŕol, tarakśu) sitting quietly; when they saw me they first tried to guess whether I was their friend or foe. After they saw that I wasn’t moving in their direction they continued sitting where they were. A bárshiuṋga deer appeared, running swiftly from north to south; perhaps a tiger had been chasing him.

I went ahead, on and on and on. The melody came in waves, sometimes clear and sometimes faint, sometimes close and sometimes far, very far. A little farther on I came to a small piyáshál (piyál – a kind of shál) jungle; the shál flowers were then in blossom, full of intoxicating nectar.

The music grew even clearer. Everything was glittering in the moonlight. I went ahead. The sound now seemed to be quite near. I came to a palásh jungle and started reciting a poem to myself:

Kiḿshuk bane áji nirjane ke tumi viińá bájáo
Dekhá dáo more dekhá dáo.
Aḿshuk-sama ujjval mane mádhurii chaŕiye jáo.
Cáoná to tumi kichu kakhano, hayto neiko prayojan kono
Bháver atiite vijane nibhrte e kii váńii shońáo
Ámár maner rikta nilaye, dhará deve ki ná-bale, ná-kaye
Jyotsná-snáta prayáta pradośe asiimer gán gáo.⁽¹⁾

[Who are you, playing the viińá today, alone in the kiḿshuk forest?
Show yourself to me, show yourself.
Scatter the radiant, moon-like sweetness of your mind.
You never want anything, perhaps you have no need of anything.
What a message you play, beyond thought, in this lonely, solitary place.
In this empty abode of my mind, will you let me catch you without speaking?
Sing the song of endlessness in this late evening bathed in moonlight.]

The blooming flowers of the palásh trees looked as if they were lit with fire. In the middle of the jungle, in a place where the trees were sparser, I saw a young man about my age, nineteen or twenty, seated on a mound. His body was like a motion picture, a play of light and shadow. His face was bright and he was wearing an ornament in his ear and glittering bangles around his wrists. In his hands was a stringed instrument and he was playing according to his inspiration. When I approached he stopped playing, stood up and said to me in Sanskrit: “I’ve been waiting for you – for ma-a-a-ny days now.”

“Yes, I’ve often heard you play,” I replied. “What is that instrument you have?”

“It’s an ancient viińá, viiń in the spoken language. Seven or seven and a half thousand years ago this was the only musical instrument in the world. When Shiva first started his musical sadhana then he had to do it with this viińá. Can you tell me how long ago that was?”

“That was 7500 years ago,” I replied.

“Yes, I also guess it to be the same. I’ve been playing this viińá for the last 7500 years. For a long time I’ve had the desire to play once for you. This viińá is a quite simple stringed instrument. You must have heard its harmonies.”

“Certainly,” I replied.

“Over time,” he continued, “this viińá changed into different kinds of viińás and viińs, the sitar, esraj, tamboura, violin and so many others. Some of them had frets and others not. Just think of it! Shiva had to make practically superhuman efforts with this primitive viińá. He had to invent the scale. He had to string his instrument very carefully to get the proper sound. It was Shiva who made the rágas and rágińiis. He introduced soul-stirring modulation into them. He felt the need for musical metre – without metre and tempo there could be no song. To maintain the rhythm he invented the horn and the d́ambaru [a small drum shaped like an hourglass]. In the post-Shiva, Vedic era this tabor and horn took the form of the mrdauṋga. That was during the end of the Yajurvedic era and the beginning of the Atharvavedic era. From the original mrdauṋga developed in later times the Benares mrdauṋga and the Bengal mrdauṋga or khola (the Vaeśńavas also sometimes call it shriikhola). The mrdauṋga and khola, however, are not identical, so their sound is also not the same.

“Our tabla is a metamorphosed form of this mrdauṋga. Some people believe that the tabla came from Persia but this is not the case; the tabla originated in this country. From Persia we have gotten the sitar and the gazal, from Turkey, hává-gazal. Although the viiń originated in this country and has been here since the time of Shiva, we have gotten its descendant, the violin, from Italy. This viiń that I am holding fell out of use nearly six thousand years ago. I was thinking that I should play it for you, so I’ve been sitting here, day after day, night after night, playing it. I haven’t slept but neither my body nor my mind has become tired. I am a sound wave, the musical modulation in the minds of human beings.”

“I wasn’t able to hear the entire melody of the piece you were playing,” I said. “If it’s okay with you would you play once more?”

“Why just once? I’ll play a hundred times! The only reason I came to this shál-palásh forest was to play for you.”

He started to play. His fingers were remarkable, the way they danced over the strings. After he stopped I asked: “Was that the very ancient sindhubhaeravii that has disappeared?”

“You are quite correct. That was sindhubhaeravii.”

“Now I must go.”

“Okay. I’ll accompany you to the edge of the mountains.”

I started heading back with that extraordinary genius by my side. After a little way I stopped and asked: “Those luminous bodies⁽²⁾ who used to cultivate music were called gandharva. Those who used to cultivate various things in subtler spheres were called vidyádhara and those who were skilled in dressing or enamoured of beauty were called kinnara. Which of the three are you?”

He kept quiet. The luminous face of his luminous body glittered even brighter as he smiled and remained silent.

I kept on walking with him alongside me, that original viiń still in his hands.

“Do you know?” he said. “The world of music today is like a person without a proper guru or proper training. People want to show they can play without having paid their dues. They are selling themselves for gold without realizing that the real value of music is being lost thereby. Gold is becoming even cheaper than glass. Whenever a rágińii is a little difficult they only show that they can play the notes without going deep into the music. There is no way of doing this with sindhubhaeravii, the same with múltánii vasanta (not vasantabáhár), so you no longer hear either one of them.”

“You are right,” I replied. “I don’t hear anyone play sindhubhaeravii, nor múltáni vasanta any longer. I have heard one or two pieces going by the name of sindhubhaeravii. One or two songs also. But judging by the scale I could see that they were not sindhubhaeravii. They were different local styles of darvárii.”

“Right you are, quite right. That’s just what I wanted to say. You must have noticed that in sindhubhaeravii one must pay special attention to ascending and descending in the scale. Since such profound attention makes it difficult to articulate the notes, singers nowadays don’t want to take the risk.”

“Exactly,” I said. “Quite right.”

“It would be great if you would compose a song in pure sindhubhaeravii.”

“If I have sufficient time and capacity then I will try but I cannot give my word on it; I love music, you see, but I am not well-versed in it. Now, you didn’t tell me whether you were a ghandarva, vidyádhara or kinnara, but I can tell that you are one of them because you have a light-body.”

He smiled even more and said: “I am none of these three.”

“Where do you live? Do you live in this palásh forest?”

“I don’t live in the forest, I live in the mind. I’ve been living in your mind for these past seven thousand years.”

We reached the end of the mountains. I looked at him and suddenly saw his body slowly begin to dissolve into the moonlight; as it did I heard the sound of music floating over the top of the palásh forest. This time it wasn’t sindhubhaeravii; it was meghamallára. From the northeast I noticed a wisp of cloud in the sky.⁽³⁾

The next evening I went back to the hill and heard again the same sound wave floating to my ears. Prasenjit hadn’t shown up the day before; who knows why, but again today he hadn’t come. The reason for it I couldn’t fathom. He was not like that. Whenever he couldn’t come for some reason he would inform me the day before.

Suddenly I saw Prasenjit rapidly approaching, esraj in hand. I said in a half-laughing, half-annoyed tone of voice: “What’s the matter? Yesterday you didn’t come and today also you are late. This isn’t like you.”

“You really upset me yesterday,” he replied. “I thought perhaps that you might drop by our house today knowing how much you upset me, so I waited for you for some time before starting off. That’s why I’m late today.”

“What did I do to upset you yesterday? Can you give me the details?”

I smiled a little.

“Is it a laughing matter to cause pain to another person?” he replied.

“Then I’ll say it in all seriousness. What did I do to upset you?”

“First you showed up just when I was leaving with the esraj to come here. Why couldn’t you have come a little earlier? Why couldn’t you have informed me earlier that you were coming? What objection did you have to taking a snack at my house?”

I was astonished. I kept quiet.

“Why aren’t you saying anything?” he asked.

“Say what you have to say,” I replied. “List your complaints.”

“You came into my house,” he went on, “but you wouldn’t sit down anywhere, neither on the cot, nor on a chair, nor even on a mat. Is that proper, I ask you, to remain standing like that when you visit someone’s home.”

I kept quiet.

“So you still have nothing to say? No answer at all. What’s going on with you?”

Again, I held fast to my silence.

“You picked up the esraj and started playing a strange rágińii. I asked you its name many times but you wouldn’t answer. If you had told me while you were playing perhaps I could have picked it up. But you told me much later, after I could no longer remember what I had heard.”

“Do you remember what name I told you,” I asked.

“Certainly I remember,” he replied. “You told me its name was sindhubhaeravii, and that it was a 7000 year old rágińii which has been lost nowadays. There were also some Sanskrit songs composed at one time in this rágińii but these songs have also been lost. You said that one must pay special attention to ascending and descending in the scale in sindhubhaeravii and that most singers are not prepared to take such a risk; for that reason the real sindhubhaeravii has disappeared. It has mixed with the moonlight and fled into the unknown.”

“And what else made you get upset?”

“The way you left so suddenly; it seemed to me as if you too had gotten lost in the moonlight. I looked everywhere but I couldn’t find you. I could only hear a vague melody floating in the air. It seemed to be meghamallár. And then a steady rain started falling.”

“Didn’t you get wet while you were walking home,” he asked.

“No, I didn’t get wet,” I replied.

I started listening attentively and Prasenjit as well, but that day we didn’t hear any rága or rágińii floating in from the shál-palásh forest.

I had listened to what Prasenjit had to say and it left me dumbfounded. I had no answer to give.

Where had that unknown player gone? Had he gotten himself lost in his own shál-palásh forest? Perhaps he really had gotten lost and with him the grandeur of so many unknown, unplayed, unsung melodies. Or perhaps he hadn’t gotten lost. Perhaps he was just waiting for the right persons capable of bringing to life again the world of melody, infusing it with the vital energy of the rágas and rágińiis.

Prasenjit and I climbed down from the hills. As we did an indistinct music seemed to start up, floating towards us from hidden recesses of the shál-palásh forest. I listened closely; it seemed as if someone was playing múltáni vasanta.

Footnotes

(1) This song is composed by the author in Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata on 6/12/85; Prabhát Saḿgiita No. 3242. –Trans.

(2) Luminous bodies are entities which do not have a physical body made of five fundamental factors, but rather a structure comprised of three factors only – luminous, aerial and ethereal – in which the mind functions. –Trans.

(3) Megh means “cloud”. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Gáner jagat asheś shońa sunayaná.
Bháver náhiko parisheś, jata kara racaná.

Áloker dhárá dhare asiim utsa pathe,
Saḿgiita bháse jhauṋkáre múrchanáte.
Ke táre karive bala sheś járe bhává jáya ná.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 26/8/84

Listen O beautiful-eyed one, the world of song is endless.
Ideas are boundless, however many are composed.

From beyond the ocean of darkness
Waves of song roll in on currents of melody and rhythm.
However many are counted, there is never a remainder.

From an infinite source, along rivers of light,
Music flows in endless resonance and cadence,
Who can end it, O beautiful-eyed one, that which is beyond thought.

Chapter 32	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Kola also refers to the áŕabáṋshii [a kind of flute placed on the lower lip and played with a bow]. There are various types of flutes; they are also fabricated out of different materials. Different types of flutes were also used in ancient Bengal but the most common was the áŕabáṋshii . The word báṋshii comes from báṋsha (baḿsha) and its synonyms are báṋsharii, muralii, etc. However kola is not a common synonym for báṋshii, it is only used for the áŕabáṋshii. In ancient times people used to be exposed to danger in their life whenever they were moving about outside their homes; they used to live constantly in the midst of danger. So they used to commonly carry with them a convenient-sized bamboo that they could use to defend themselves against threats. Later they realized that a solid bamboo served better to defend themselves against their enemies; so for self-protection or for battle, they started using more solid (niiret) bamboo instead of a hollow bamboo. Eventually this solid bamboo became the cudgel (nadranád or nádná or lát́hi or dauṋg). While using the hollow bamboos, they observed that when wind would pass through the opening, it would produce different kinds of sounds. So from these hollow bamboos, they fashioned the primary musical instruments. From báṋsha [bamboo] comes báṋshii [flute]. The different sounds created when the flow of air is divided and obstructed came to be called flute sounds. This bamboo flute was the first musical instrument created by nature. In the beginning, the same bamboo would be used as weapon as well as flute.

Kii báṋshii bájáli re tui bájáli
Tur báṋshiite nái phut́á.

[What a flute you played that has no holes]

Afterwards, by regulating the passage of air through the bamboo in musical rhythm and time, the musical scale was brought forth. Advanced instruments were created out of bamboo. When people started deriving this collection of notes from bamboo, they gave the name kola to that collection of flute sounds. When human beings heard these flute sounds in external nature and started to investigate the Surasáptaka (just like internal flute sounds) in their inner nature, they felt that those internal sounds were flute sounds being played by their inner deity, the beginningless and endless Unknown Consciousness, goal of all pilgrimages, the hidden, the dearest, entity. This was Krśńa’s flute, the divine flautist of Gokul.

Maramiyá, bájáo báṋshuriyá re.

[O mystic one, play your divine flute.]

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Báṋshiite kareche utalá,
Náhi máne belá-abelá.
Báṋshii báje paiṋcame dhariyá ámár náme,
Chut́i bhule láj ekelá.

Bhavi káńe tuliba ná,
Ár sáŕá dobo ná,
Jatai dákuk more,
Shuńeo shuńiba ná.
Ná shuńiyá náhi pári,
Bheve pare láje mari,
Tomrá bala e kii jválá.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 28/3/85

The sound of the flute unsettles me,
Day in, day out, heedless of time.
The fifth note calls me by name,
And I rush out alone, forgetting any shame.

I cannot focus on my work,
The flute sound haunts me over and over again,
And I lose myself in those ruinous strains.

I think that I will listen no more,
Nor shall I respond again,
No matter how ardent the call,
I will not hear, I will feign.
But I can’t help hearing,
And I die with shame.
Tell me, what agony is this?

Chapter 33	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

In ancient times, human beings used to sing songs in unison with the reverberations of bird’s twittering. At the very first dawn in the history of the human race i.e., at the crimson dawn of humanity’s first appearance on earth, there emerged the rágas⁽¹⁾ of songs … as a casket of jingles of an outlandish musical octave surasaptaka. In order to impart rhythm to that nameless rága, human beings used to strike together various material objects … Percussion instruments, born out of such impact, thus came into existence. Later on came also the primeval forms of mrdauṋga, tabla, khol, ghatam etc. In course of time, human beings, in a bid to fill their minds with the raptures arising from impact-oriented instruments, created musical treasures from artificially created empty space. They wrapped such spaces with animal skin or any other soft covering. In this way there came into existence various rhythm-producing [percussion] instruments. Even then, contentment eluded them. They craved for instruments that would maintain unison with the song, in an unfamiliar language, drenched in sweetness … that would flow in harmony with the tune … Thus stringed instruments came into being. Shiva and Párvatii invented stringed instruments in a scientific manner. The science of rhythm (tála) was formed out of tá, the first letter of the táńd́ava dance of Shiva and la, the first letter of the lalita dance of Párvatii. With the harmonious blending of the resonance of the stringed instrument with the seven basic musical notes emerged the first viińa or viiń or rudraviińá of Shiva. Various kinds of stringed instruments were built later on by fixing bridges and frets to this first stringed instrument. By retaining the initial form of this viińá, ektárá [one stringed instrument] was created. By enhancing the strings and thereby producing sustained resonance, and by making use of bowing, the violin was made. This violin, whose birthplace is Italy (the actual name is Italia), migrated to India from abroad. The sitar also came from abroad. Its birthplace is Áryanyavraja or Iran or Persia. The word ́sitar’ means a combination of three strings. There are a variety of stringed instruments … of various fashions and styles. But the soul of all musical instruments is the same, and that is to pour into the ear sweetness of the musical octave by producing resonance in the sounds emanating from the strings. All kinds of stringed instruments have the same nomenclature – końa or końamátrká.

Usually people do not play stringed instruments directly with the fingers. They play either with a bow, or an object to strike with or a finger cap. These accessories that people hold in their hand to play the stringed instruments are also called końa or końaka. Bear in mind that the word końaka also means ladle for stirring cooked pulse (dál). That is, the ladle that women use to mash the half-boiled pulse is końaka. Also remember that końaka further means a churning stick.

Musical instruments [especially the Indian variety of drums] used to maintain rhythm, are played with the palms and fingers if the drums have delicate skins. This skin is made to bear the brunt of strokes – both emphatic and mild – by using a resin-coating collected from mangosteen. In the age of modern science, other materials are also being used for this purpose. Tablá, khol, mridauṋga etc. are instruments of this kind. But if the drum-skin is hard and yet rapid beating is required, the palms or fingers will not suffice. In that case, a harder object is utilized. A small hourglass-shaped instrument, small variety of tom-tom, bigger variety of tom-tom, drum, war-drum, victory-drum etc. (d́ugd́ugi, d́holak, d́hol, d́hák, dámámá, jaid́hák, etc) belong to this category. In colloquial Bengali, this hard object so used is called kát́hi (stick) e.g. drum stick.

The tuning pegs used to loosen or tighten the strings on a stringed instrument are also called końa. The word końakarńa has the same meaning. The master artists who have the expertise of when and how to tune the strings correctly in order to show off their skill, steal the lime light. Many a time, the strings are to be loosened or tightened in order to bring a distinction between a note in the natural major scale and a note in the natural minor scale …. for the following purpose on the part of the artists: either to please the audience or to play so as exhibit one’s specialized skills. In any case, the common people, let alone the master artists, know that sound is not emitted if the strings are loosened too much and the soft and delicate strings snap if they are tightened too much. Human life is also like this. If one practises too much austerity (in some cases, if one makes a parade of austerity), tender human sensitivities snap and break into smithereens … the soft, delicate parts of the mind get charred and petrified. On the other hand, if life is made akin to a loose string, the nobler yearnings of life will never be fulfilled. In other words, that kind of life degenerates into the life of an animal characterized only by bathing, eating and sleeping. Hence one must never allow the string of life to be loose. But also the string of life should not be left to snap due to excessive strain. The ideal course of life is neither left-oriented nor right-oriented. This kind of life will be conspicuous by the absence of strife, mayhem or horror of the leftists and of toleration of injustices⁽²⁾ by the rightists in their loose, careless and sloppy life. It is this ideal course that will usher in a life worth yearning for a super-human existence, divinely exquisite and shining brightly on the banner of gold.

Álgá tare bol ut́he ná
t́ánle cheŕe komal t́ár.

[In a loose string, the melody remains mute
If pulled, the delicate string is torn apart.]

This is what has been referred to by Buddha as the middle path or majjhimá mágga.

The regions or points on the lower part of a stringed instrument and its upper part between which the strings remain attached are called końa or końavindu. As Shiva could tune the stringed instruments very well, He was called końesh. It is noteworthy that as the first stringed instrument of the world, viiń or viińá (lyre) was invented by Shiva, the other name of viińá is shivakoná.

Footnotes

(1) See last footnote of “The Inner Science of Surasaptaka”. –Trans.

(2) Toleration of injustices is another defect of rightists. –Trans.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Tomár e gán anádi káler,
Anante meshe;
Sure tále
Nabhoniile jáy je bhese.

Tomár gáne Tumi ácho,
Vishve dolá jágiyecho;
Purńa práńer chande náco
Madhuratama áveshe.

Madhumálaiṋca, Kolkata, 13/7/86

This song of Yours flows out of eternity
And merges in infinity;
In countless melodies and rhythms,
It drifts on to the blue ethereal void.

No one knows when it began,
Even if grasped, it can’t be held back;
In the inner core of the mind, it comes and goes
In an infinite sequence of finitude and infinitude.

In Your songs You are ever present,
You have stirred vibrations in the universe;
You dance in rhythm with a soul that has attained fulfilment
In the sweetest divine ecstasy.

	Saḿgiita: Song, Dance and Instrumental Music [a compilation]

Words in this glossary have been alphabetized according to the English alphabet, not the Bengali. Accented letters have been treated the same as unaccented (e.g., Á the same as A).

ÁJIṊÁ CAKRA. Sixth psycho-spiritual plexus, located between the eyebrows; the “yogic wisdom eye”. See also CAKRA.
ANÁHATA CAKRA. Fourth psycho-spiritual plexus, located at the midpoint of the chest; “yogic heart”. See also CAKRA.
ANANDA MARGA. Path of divine bliss; Ánanda Márga Pracáraka Saḿgha (Ananda Marga organization).
ANANDANAGAR. Situated in the hilly terrain of Purulia District (West Bengal), in the midst of beautiful natural surroundings, this is the registered headquarters of Ananda Marga where multifarious welfare activities such as education, relief, ecological preservation, integrated village development, etc., are conducted. Many old Tantra piit́has (spiritual meditation sites) are situated here.
ATHARVAVEDA. The last Veda, composed approximately 3000 years ago, older than the Jain scriptures.
ÁTMÁ, ÁTMAN. Soul, consciousness, Puruśa, pure cognition. The átman of the Cosmos is Paramátman, and that of the unit is the jiivátman.

BHAGAVÁN. The owner of bhaga, one who has fully imbibed the six qualities; Lord.
BHAJANA. Devotional song.
BRAHMA. Supreme Entity, comprising both Puruśa, or
SHIVA, and Prakrti, or Shakti.
BUDDHA. One who has attained bodhi, intuition. Lord Buddha , the propounder of Buddhism, appeared approximately 2500 years ago.

CAKRA. Cycle or circle; psycho-spiritual centre, or plexus. The cakras in the human body are all located along the suśumná canal which passes through the length of the spinal column and extends up to the crown of the head. Some cakras, however, are associated with external concentration points. The concentration points: (1) for the múládhára cakra, the base of the spine, above the perineum; (2) for the svádhiśt́hána, the genital organ; (3) for the mańipura, the navel; (4) for the anáhata, the midpoint of the chest; (5) for the vishuddha, the throat; (6) for the ájiṋá, between the eyebrows; and (7) for the sahasrára, the crown of the head. There are two other cakras which are needed in higher spiritual practice, so the cakras are nine in number.

DEVA. Mythologically, a God, a deity; philosophically, any vibration, or expression, emanating from the Cosmic Nucleus.
DHARMA. Characteristic property; spirituality; the path of righteousness in social affairs.

GANDHARVA. One of the seven devayonis, or luminous bodies, disembodied entities having a structure composed of three factors only – luminous, aerial and ethereal. The type of person who is good but has a longing for music, will be a gandharva in their next life. This is the reason that music is called gandharva vidyá. Also, a class of positive microvita.

HARA. The entity which is instrumental for the withdrawal of everything. The word is derived from ha and ra – ha is the acoustic root of the ethereal factor and ra is the acoustic root of energy; another name of Lord Shiva.
HARI. Literally, “that which steals”; one who steals others’ sins to lighten their burden and pave the way for their liberation; another name of Parama Puruśa – the entity responsible for the preservation of unit beings.

IŚT́A. Goal; one’s personal deity or object of meditation, goal in life.

KARMA. Action; sometimes, positive or negative action which produces positive or negative reactive momenta.
KIIRTANA. Collective singing of the name of the Lord, combined with instrumental music and with a dance that expresses the spirit of surrender.
KINNARA/KINNARAH. Literally, “handsome or beautiful person”; one of the seven devayonis, or luminous bodies, disembodied entities having a structure composed of three factors only – luminous, aerial and ethereal. The type of person who is good but has some aesthetic attraction for beautification and physical objects such as ornaments and cosmetics, will be a kinnara in their next life. Also, a class of positive microvita.
KŚATRIYA. Written as kśatriya, a person whose mentality is to dominate over matter with physical power; written as “Kśatriya”, a member of the second-highest caste in India.
KŚATRIYOCITA SEVÁ. Serving others with courage and vigour.
KUŃD́ALINII/KULAKUŃD́ALINII. Literally, “coiled serpentine”; sleeping divinity; the force dormant in the kula (lowest vertebra) of the body, which, when awakened, rises up the spinal column to develop all one’s spiritual potentialities.
KRŚŃA. Literally, the entity which attracts everything of the universe towards its own self, Parama Puruśa; a great Tantric guru of 1500 BCE.

MANTRA. A sound or collection of sounds which, when meditated upon, will lead to spiritual liberation. A mantra is incantative, pulsative and ideative.
MOKŚA. Spiritual emancipation, non-qualified liberation.

PARAMA PURUŚA. Supreme Consciousness.
PÁRVATII. A wife of SHIVA and an elevated spiritualist.
PARAMÁ PRAKRTI. Supreme Operative Principle.
PADMÁ. A long and very big river passing through Bangladesh and West Bengal and emptying into the Bay of Bengal.

QUINQUELEMENTAL. Composed of the ethereal, aerial, luminous, liquid and solid factors, or elements.

RÁŔH. The territory, mostly in modern-day Bengal and Jharkhand, stretching from the West Bank of the Bhagirathi river to the Parasnath hills.
RGVEDA. The oldest Veda, composed over the period between fifteen thousand years ago and ten thousand years ago.
RUDRA. Literally, “one who makes others shed tears”; a name of Shiva.

SADHANA. Literally, “ sustained effort”; spiritual practice; meditation.
SAHASRÁRA CAKRA. Highest, or pineal, psychic-nerve plexus, located at the crown of the head. See also CAKRA.
SAḾSKÁRA. Mental reactive momentum, potential mental reaction.
SAḾVRTA. The style of pronounciation prevailing in Bengal, Orissa; closed vowel.
SHIVA. A great Tantric guru of 5000 BCE who guided society while His mind was absorbed in Consciousness, hence, Infinite Consciousness, Puruśa.
SADÁSHIVA. SHIVA (literally, “eternal Shiva”).
SHAEVA DHARMA. Shaevism; the theoretical or philosophical side of spirituality as taught by Shiva.
SHLOKA. A Sanskrit couplet expressing one idea.
SHÚDRA. Written as shúdra, a person with a mentality of physical enjoyment only, a member of the labourer social class; written as “Shúdra”, a member of the lowest caste in India;
SHÚDROCITA SEVÁ. Manual service.
SIDDHA MANTRA. A mantra “perfected” by the guru.

TANMÁTRA. Literally, “minutest fraction of that,” i.e., of a given rudimental factor of matter. Also translated “generic essence” or “inferential wave”. The various types of tanmátras convey the senses of hearing, touch, form (vision), taste and smell.
TANTRA. A spiritual tradition which originated in India in prehistoric times and was first systematized by Shiva. It emphasizes the development of human vigour, both through meditation and through confrontation of difficult external situations, to overcome all fears and weakness. Also, a scripture expounding that tradition.
TIRYAK. The style of pronunciation prevailing in southern and western India; distorted vowel.

VAESHYA. Written as vaeshya, a person of acquisitive mentality, a member of the capitalist social class; written as “Vaeshya”, a member of the second-lowest caste in India.
VAESHYOCITA SEVÁ. Giving economic service to others.
VAEŚŃAVA. Vaishnavite; pertaining to the Viśńu Cult or Religion.
VEDA. Literally, “knowledge”; hence, a composition imparting spiritual knowledge. Also, a religious or philosophical school which originated among the Aryans and was brought by them to India. It is based on the Vedas and emphasizes the use of ritual to gain the intervention of the gods.
VIDYÁDHARA. One of the seven devayonis, or luminous bodies, disembodied entities having a structure composed of three factors only – luminous, aerial and ethereal. The type of person who is good but gives more importance to intellectual attainment than to realizing Parama Puruśa, will be a vidyádhara in their next life. Also, a class of positive microvita.
VIŚŃU. Literally, “entity which pervades each and every thing”; All-Pervading Entity; Preserving Entity; a mythological God.
VISHUDDHA CAKRA. Cakra related to the vocal cord and to the thyroid and parathyroid glands; controls sixteen propensities. See also CAKRA.
VIVRTA. The style of pronunciation prevailing in Western Uttar Pradesh; open vowel.

YAJURVEDA. A VEDA composed over a period between ten thousand years ago and seven thousand years ago. There was no script at that time.