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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Originally published in Bengali
© 1986 by Ánanda Márga Pracáraka Saḿgha (Central)
© 2007 by Ánanda Márga Pracáraka Saḿgha (Central)
Registered office: Anandanagar
P.O. Baglata, Dist. Purulia, W.B.
India
Camp office: 527 VIP Nagar
Kolkata 700100
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 81-7252-258-4
Translated from the original Bengali by
Prof. (Retd.) Mohit Ray, Prof. (Retd.) Visvanath Chatterjee
and Deváshiisa
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
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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I offer my respectful salutations to
the sacred memory of those
who have illumined the path of human progress through
literature, culture, intellect and erudition.
Following in their footsteps,
Shrii Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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On the 8th of September, 1985, the author, and founder of Ananda Marga, Shrii Prabhat Ranjan Sarkar, began an extraordinary series of Sunday lectures in Bengali that would eventually fill a total of twenty-six volumes over the next five years. The title he gave to this series was Shabda Cayaniká, which translates into English as “A Collection of Words”. As the title suggests, each discourse consists of a discussion of a certain number of words from the Bengali language, beginning, in the first discourse, with the first letter of the Bengali alphabet, a, and continuing on alphabetically. What results, then, is neither an encyclopaedia, nor a dictionary, but something unique in the fields of scholarship and literature.
Ostensibly, Shabda Cayaniká is a series devoted to the linguistics and philology of the Bengali language, but in reality it is much more than that. The author uses the platform of the word as a point of departure to take the reader on a journey through all the varied landscapes of human knowledge – history, geography, medicine, science, art, religion, philosophy, etc. – and in the process adds the indelible stamp of his own unique wisdom, enriching our experience with new ideas and enabling us to see our human heritage in a way we have never been able to before.
Like most great authors, he is a consummate storyteller, using a seemingly inexhaustible supply of anecdotes, personal experiences and stories to capture the reader’s interest and lead him or her effortlessly through the garden of human knowledge. Along the way the author refines and develops a language that is the world’s fifth most widely spoken and the closest living language to its great classical ancestor, Sanskrit.
The English versions of Shabda Cayaniká Part 1 and Part 2, the first two books of this series, were published in 1996. The English Shabda Cayaniká Part 3 was published in 1999. Thereafter the publication of this important series could not immediately be continued for various reasons, but requests for further parts of the series kept pouring in from our readers. We have therefore decided to publish several of the remaining parts of Shabda Cayaniká each year in order to complete the series within a reasonable period of time.
As mentioned earlier, the author of this series has touched on a vast number of subjects of human knowledge. Therefore in this book we have provided an index of words and subjects at the end to help researchers and the general reader.
Weighing the feedback of our readers and all other considerations, we decided to print Parts 4 and 5 of Shabda Cayaniká in one volume and to use a bigger and more conventional book size than had been used previously for the Shabda Cayaniká series. Henceforward, the various parts of the series will all be published in this manner.
Footnotes by the translators have all been signed “–Trans.” Unsigned footnotes are those of the author.
Many readers are concerned that the author’s discourses, as published, should adhere as closely as possible to the precise wording the author used in speaking. For this reason, in the case of discourses given originally in English, the editors do not alter pronouns and other terms which the author in his life time considered “common-gender” words. As the author once said, “You know, ‘man’ is not only masculine gender, ‘man’ is common gender also. ‘Man is mortal’ – here ‘man’ means both male and female.”
The author was a natural advocate of women’s rights and on at least one occasion indicated that “lopsided justice” in language should be eliminated at some future date. In keeping with his guideline and with present-day trends, it is our policy in the case of translated discourses (where the published wording will necessarily be that of the translators) to use gender-neutral language.
The author was of the strong opinion that the Bengali alphabet should provide for a distinction between two slightly-different sounds, which he called “initial-la” and “end-lra”. To make possible this distinction, he proposed that the initial-la should be represented by an existing alphabetical character (ল), while for the end-lra there should be a new character (ল়) formed by adding a dot below the initial-la character. In the roman system invented by the author, the two sounds are rendered by la and lra respectively. Though in the original Bengali Shabda Cayaniká series the new character has been used wherever the lra sound occurs, in these English translations we have avoided using lra each time that the sound occurs (so that words familiar to speakers of Bengali should not be unrecognizable to them), and we provide instead, especially for the benefit of researchers, a list of all words in each book which should be read with the end-lra sound. For this book the words are as follows:
| spelled as | should be read as | |
| Discourse 23 | kála | kálra |
| Discourse 24 | káliká káliuṋga | kálriká kálriuṋga |
| Discourse 25 | kálii | kálrii |
| Discourse 26 | kilaka kishala kishalay kiila | kilraka kishalra kishalray kiilra |
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.
The author used a certain shorthand for explaining the etymologies of words. Under this system, a minus sign (–) follows a prefix, and a plus sign (+) precedes a suffix. Thus ava – tr + ghaiṋ = avatára can be read, “the root tr prefixed by ava and suffixed by ghaiṋ becomes avatára.”
Acknowledgements
This book is the result of the assistance and the 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 arrangement 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: Dr. Mohit Ray, retired professor of English, translated all seven discourses of Shabda Cayaniká Part 4, and the first editing of those discourses was done by Ácárya Priyashivánanda Avadhúta. Gáyattrii Ghista and Táraka Ghista did the second editing of those discourses. Dr. Visvanath Chatterjee, retired professor of English, translated all seven discourses of Shabda Cayaniká Part 5, and the first editing of those discourses was done by Ácárya Priyashivánanda Avadhúta. Deváshiiśa did the second editing and first verification of those discourses. Mádhava Basak did typing, layout work and DTP work for the entire book, as well as related office work. Kirit Dave took on sales management and coordination work.
We are also indebted to many others who gave constant encouragement and vital input. 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.
Kirit Dave also prepared the cover page of the book. We like to express our sincere gratitude to Ms. Kate B., USA, for her kind gift of allowing us to use the photograph for the front cover of this book. The photograph, protected by the copyright laws, is the property of Ms. Kate, and may not be reproduced without her expressed permission.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kut́a
The root verb kut́a is used with several different meanings, for example, “to walk a crooked [kut́ila] path”, “to make somebody walk a crooked path”, “to be dishonest”, “to make somebody dishonest”, “to walk on the path of adharma [unrighteousness]”, “to make somebody walk on the path of adharma”, “to strike”, “to create obstructions in the path of honesty”, “to cut into pieces”, “to build a wall of obstacles”, “to peck or to nibble”. There are also different etymological meanings based on these usages. The colloquial usages of the word kut́a are as follows:
When the word kálakút́a is used for a poisonous tree, then it is understood that its poison is very strong. In that case kút́a must be spelled with ú. In addition to poisonous trees, the word kálakút́a is also used to refer to any kind of poisonous plant. There is an amusing observation in this regard. Many people playfully call tobacco (támáka) támakút́a [támrakút́a], but this is merely in jest. There is no original Sanskrit word for tobacco since tobacco was introduced into this country from abroad during the Mughal era. At that time it was not given a Sanskrit name, as was the case with guava (perukam, biijapúrakam), chilli (kat́ubiijam), papaya (amrtaphalam – the Bengali word peṋpe is derived from the English word “papaya” as is the Ráŕhii Bengali word piphá) and so on, all of which came from outside India. The actual meaning of the word támrakút́a is “copper mountain”, not tobacco. The scholars of earlier times used to say in jest:
Támakút́aḿ mahaddravyaḿ shraddhayá diiyate yadi,
Ashvamedhasamapuńyaḿ t́áne t́áne bhaviśyati.
That is, tobacco is indeed great. If somebody offers someone tobacco with reverence, then with each puff of tobacco the person takes, the donor receives a benefit equal to that derived from the Ashvamedha Yajiṋa [Horse Sacrifice].
In ancient times the hard shells of ripe coconuts were also used for drinking water. So kut́a also means the shell of the ripe coconut. If a coconut shell is broken into two pieces, the pieces are also called málá. Many people use this coconut málá for storing kitchen spices.
Kut́a does not only mean large mountains. It also refers to all its diminutive forms such as hills, knolls, mounds and hillocks.
In ancient India there used to be a temple or mosque adjacent to a fort. In the Puranic era some people used to keep a durgá báŕii [house of Durgá] or a durgá mandir [temple of Durgá] inside a fort in honour of the goddess Durgá, the presiding deity of a durga. The eight-armed mythical goddess Durgá was considered to be the goddess of weapons. The concept of a ten-armed Durgá came later on. The ten-armed Durgá was first introduced in Bengal at Taherpur in the district of Rajshahi in Barendrabhúmi [North Bengal]. The king of that region, Kaḿsanáráyańa Roy, was the first to worship Durgá on Bengali soil, for which he spent seven lakhs of rupees.
In this respect, you should have a clear idea of the distinction between the words gháti and gháṋt́i. Gháṋt́i means “centre of power” and ghát́i means “valley” (not an avaváhiká or basin). Some of you may know that in the area known as Ráŕh, especially western Ráŕh, there is often a mountainous or hilly valley or ghát́i on the way from one prosperous region to another. Robbers would often attack in these ghát́is. The kings of western Ráŕh used to employ a particular kind of officer to save innocent people from the hands of these ghát́i robbers. They were called ghát́wáls. I knew a gentleman who had the surname Sengupta. When asked for the name of his father, he used to give the word Ghát́wál as his surname. When questioned further, he explained that his forefathers had worked for generations as ghát́wáls in Ráŕh, so they used the surname Ghát́wál. The word kut́a cannot be used for this ghát́i.
In Bengali we use the word báksa. The Bengali word báksa came from the English word “box” during the early days of British rule. (None of you should ever pronounce it baska, even by mistake. Likewise, do not say decki [for dekci, “cooking pail”], riská [for “rickshaw”], phuruli [for phuluri, “fried gramflour drop”]; also do not say liil ákásh [for niil ákásh, “blue sky”] or nál gorut́á [for lál gorut́á, “that red cow”]. Before the word báksa was introduced in this country, the words pyaṋt́rá, pyáŕá etc. were used. Although they are now no longer used, we sometimes still use the expression báksa-pyáṋt́rá .
In certain parts of Ráŕh a sport called káŕákhuṋt́o was common not so long ago. Perhaps it still exists to some extent. In this fight a male buffalo was tied and there was a man in the arena. If the man was injured in the fight then the people used to kill the buffalo. Although the fighting was heroic in nature, it was also somewhat repulsive. At any rate, when this bullfighting was between bulls, then in many instances the horn of the defeated bull used to break and the bull lost a great deal of blood from its head. This bull with a broken horn is also called kut́a. These bullfights stopped after the cow became recognized as a deity, although not completely.
If mango glue is kept in a container and bird seed is put on it and a bird fearlessly alights to take that food and then cannot fly away because its feet are stuck in the glue, and if a fowler takes this opportunity to put it into a cage, then that would certainly be called cheating. So since ancient times people have condemned both catching fish with a fishhook and the fowler’s way of catching birds. No honest man should do it. It is not cheating when fish are caught with a net. For this reason the fisherman’s profession was not considered as despicable as the fowler’s, because they do not kill innocent creatures by making them swallow bait. Under no circumstance can harming a person or a creature after winning their confidence by tempting them with food be considered the deed of an honest person.
Many years ago I used to hear about a class of people who would cheat others by promising them that their gold would be doubled. Generally they used to visit the women when the men were out and tell them that they could double their gold with their magical power. If the women did not trust them they were welcome to put them to the test. These housewives would test them by first giving them a small gold ring or an earring or any similar trinket and asking them to double it. These fellows used to keep a stock of light ornaments. They would ask the women to shut their eyes and the women would shut their eyes. Then they would add rings or earrings from their stash and show to the women that their ring or earring was doubled. Once the women were firmly convinced after seeing these feats they would bring out their gold ornaments, place them before the cheats and ask them to double them. Again the women were asked to keep their eyes shut. Then they would tie the ornaments into a small bundle and made good their escape. They were swindlers. They used to realize their own selfish ends after gaining the confidence of the common people. One word for such “confidence men” is kut́a.
Mithyá is that which is not factual. That which is created from this sort of idea or imagination is called aliika [unreal]. And when aliika is expressed it is called mithyá (mithyá > michchá > michá > miche: gáner lipiká sundara kare kata ná madhur miche kathá – “the lyrics of a song render beautiful so many sweet but false words”). Kut́a is used in Sanskrit for both aliika and mithyá.
Speaking of aliika, this reminds of an incident about which it is difficult to decide, even today, whether it was aliika or real.
On that day I had reached Howrah station early in the morning. I was coming from Jamalpur and on my way to my aunt’s house in Belgachia. The moment I came out of the station I ran into Sujit, yes, Sujit, our Sujit, Sujit Mitter, my playmate from the old days, my study companion. He was studying in Bhagalpur College and I in Kolkata. We were great friends. We used to look forward to seeing each other during holidays and vacations. We would meet in Jamalpur by the reservoir, or near the field, or on one bench or another. Sujit was greatly interested in Bengali literature, particularly in the field of Bengali literature’s speciality, its portrayal of society. I was more inclined towards astrology and was completely uninitiated in literary matters, an unknown traveler in that realm. Even though Bengali was my mother tongue, I could only speak it; I had never approached its literary shores. The little education I had was in English. My limited ability to move in that literary realm owed everything to the little I had heard from Sujit.
Then I ran into that very Sujit. There we were, face-to-face. Sujit was the scion of an aristocratic family. He had a refined and tasteful bearing and conduct. Anyone would have wanted such a friend.
The moment he saw me, he came running over and clasped both my hands. “Where are you going?” he asked.
I told him my destination. Then he asked me, “Does your aunt or any other relation know that you are going there now?”
“No,” I replied. “But they know this much, that I have some important work there.”
“Since they don’t know that you are going there today”, Sujit said, “then you have to change your course, at least for one day. That is, now you have to go to Ghusuŕi instead of Belgachia.”
“Ghusuŕi!” I exclaimed, greatly surprised.
“Yes.”
“But I don’t know anyone in Ghusuŕi.”
“You may not know it,” he said, “but one of your relatives lives in Ghusuŕi.”
“And who might that be, pray tell?” I asked.
“It’s me, me. Now you have to come to Ghusuŕi.”
“You couldn’t find any place in this whole wide world other than Ghusuŕi to build your nest?”
“It’s one house on top of another at Kambulit́olá in Kolkata where we have our ancestral home,” he said. “There’s not an iota of land left for gardening. You know that jhumur song from Ráŕh”:
Kolkátáte dekhe elam gharer upar ghar lo,
Gharer upar ghar.
[I have come back from Kolkata where I saw rooms on top of rooms. Oh my dear! Rooms on top of rooms.]
“You know very well that I love wide-open spaces. Ghusuŕi may be a village today, but it has a great deal of promise. Alongside the house there is also some land for gardening. So I knowingly exiled myself to Ghusuŕi. You can say that this is my self-exile.”
We arrived at the bus stand. The people from the bus company were shouting at the top of their lungs with a somewhat distorted Bengali pronounciation: “Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, going to Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, going to Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii.”
I realized that it wasn’t going to do much good reasoning with Sujit. There was no way to avoid him, so I got into the bus with him. The conductor continued yelling out: “Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, .Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii.”
They are hard-working people. They came to work hard and from a long distance away. It is said in the Vedas that the serene beauty that is found in sweating human beings has no parallel anywhere. Náná shrántáya shriiranti. But it is really quite difficult to rub shoulders with these sweating human beings or to sit near them for a few minutes. This seems to be the austere penance of the deep night.
It was quite some time later when we reached the outskirts of Ghusuŕi after crossing a large portion of the city of Howrah. The city of Howrah is high in some places, low in others, replete with factories and neighborhoods of gentle, civilized folk. Howrah has been an industrial town since its very inception. There was a time when there was a factory here at every turn. It is difficult to find another such industrial town anywhere in the world, although at present Ludhiana and Batala of the Punjab can boast of a similar glory. This is quite good, no doubt, but Howrah should not lose its distinction. Both government and private agencies derive a very good income from this industrial town, although in general we can say that the city is neglected. Only a very small fraction of what is spent for the improvement of Kolkata is spent on Howrah. Moreover, the sacrifices that Howrah has made for the improvement of Kolkata are indisputable. Kolkata is like a golden lamp with a slender wick made of fine cotton and clarified butter for fuel, while Howrah is like the lamp-stand that bears it on its head. It seems to bear the black stain from the lamp’s burnt oil. Will no one pay any attention to Howrah? The British did not neglect the town in this way when they founded it in an area of marshy wetlands [háoŕ] after draining the water and filling in the holes and ditches. A botanical garden was developed here as well as one of India’s oldest engineering colleges. The Shalimar gardens were fashioned in imitation of the Shalimar gardens of Kashmir. The place is still commonly known today as Shalimar.
The Howrah district was second to none in the area of scholarship. There was a time when a large number of Sanskrit scholars used to live at Máju, Shyampur, Andul, Peṋŕo-Vasantapur and Sáṋtrágáchi. They were quite erudite. The British selected Howrah, as a developing area of Bengal, to be the residence of the representative from Bhutan. Later on that particular place became known as Bhot́bágán.
It is this Howrah that we are passing through, neglected by history just as Urmila, the wife of Lakśmańa, was neglected in the Rámáyańa. We reached Ghusuŕi and arrived at Sujit’s house some seven or eight minutes after getting down at the bus-stand. It was a neat, middle-sized, fashionable house, with the kind of lovely, colorful gardens in front and on the sides known as kut́apa in Sanskrit literature. I could not help but praise Sujit’s taste. I also had to admire his choice of place. Truly there is no space left even fora til [sesame] seed in the Tilottamá-like city of Kolkata.(5) Perhaps after some time there will be no space left in Ghusuŕi for even a poppy seed, what to speak of a sesame seed.
We spent a few hours together in free and intimate conversation– laughing, gossiping and dining. Sujit’s wife Sunanda came from an aristocratic family and was a simple and unassuming woman who was also a paragon of hospitality. Sujit’s son, Sudhii, was then about five years old.
The noon hour passed and it became afternoon, time to return. In those days Ghusuŕi was half-urban and half-rural. With the onset of the evening, silence reigned, and after nine at night it became completely deserted. People were going to sleep around that time. I returned to my aunt’s house in Belgachia. As I was leaving, Sujit made me promise to visit him in Ghusuŕi whenever I came to Kolkata and could spare a little time. I also thought that I must certainly visit Ghusuŕi – the gold bracelet of Sujit’s love.
Ghusuŕi – Ghusuŕii-ii-ii, Ghusuŕii-ii-ii, going to Ghusuŕi?
Many years passed after that. Much water had flowed down the Ganges. I was then staying in the Baluabari area of Dinajpur(6), no longer on the banks of the Ganges but on the banks of the Punarbhava, surrounded by the simple and sinless people of the land of Barendra. I still remember that scene. A certain Faizul Miaṋá used to supply us with firewood every morning. He could never leave without conversing with me for a few minutes about his daily joys and sorrows. Everyday, when he would lift the bundle of firewood to his head, that is, just when he was leaving, he used to ask, “Sir, do you like this land?”
I would answer: “Yes, I like it very much?”
Then he would ask, “Then why don’t you settle down here?”
I would just smile.
Today that Dinajpur of long ago sometimes haunts the dark alleys of my mind. My mind waxes nostalgic when I remember those dreamy days. I breathe a sigh and then realize that this sigh is futile. It is our fault that the country has been fragmented. Is it altogether impossible for this divided country to be made whole again if we are willing to work to rebuild it? As many wise and learned people say, human history does not recognize the word “impossible”. The word “impossible” has no lasting value in the lexicon of humanity.
It was Monday. A telegram arrived from Ghusuŕi from Sunanda informing me that Sujit was seriously ill; it would be good if I could go there.
It was a shock to my mind. Sujit was my childhood friend, my playmate, my study companion and a distant relation as well. It is hard to imagine how much he loved me.
I decided to leave the next day. Towards the end of the night I dreamed that Sujit was telling me: “You gave me your word that you would come to Ghusuŕi whenever you had a chance. So many days have passed but you haven’t come. What sort of promise is that? You must have received today’s telegram. This time you must certainly come.”
Then I woke up. It was three o’clock in the morning.
In those days, in order to travel from Dinajpur to Sealdah, one had to first travel to Parvatipura on metre gauge [track] and then take the broad gauge from Parvatipura (Siliguri – Sealdah route) to Kolkata. I started from Dinajpur on Tuesday and reached Sealdah early Wednesday morning. After finishing a few urgent tasks during the day, I bought some fruits and other suitable food for Sujit, and by the time I reached Howrah it was already evening. When I arrived, I heard that due to some temporary trouble the buses were not running to Ghusuŕi, though efforts were being made to resume the bus service. After some time I heard that an understanding had been reached and the buses were running again. I could hear the sound: “Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii, going to Ghus-suŕii-ii-ii?”
I boarded the bus thinking of Sujit. He must have been very seriously ill, otherwise Sunanda would never have sent the telegram. When he was in college he once contracted bronchitis and afterwards his health was somewhat affected, but he scrupulously observed the rules of health and hygiene. For this reason he was hardly ever sick, and when he was he would always fight it.
We were passing through the city of Howrah. I could see the changes that had taken place there. As the population had grown, so had the number of houses, as well as the number of vehicles. It was the last bus of the day and it was late at night by the time I reached Ghusuŕi, after nine, a solitary hour. When I reached – Ájike duár ruddha bhavane bhavane [“Doors are shut in house after house today”.]
Only a few passengers got down with me from the bus. I found myself in that half-urban, half-rural Ghusuŕi during the dark fortnight of the moon. Although Ghusuŕi was then moving fast towards urbanity, it still clearly showed its rural chracteristics.
The passengers who got down all went their separate ways and I found myself alone. It had been a long time since I had been there, so I wasn’t sure of the way to Sujit’s house. I stood there for some time thinking which way to go when suddenly Sujit showed up in person panting.
“You are ill!” I said, “Why did you come?”
“After a hard day’s work,” Sujit replied, “Sudhii fell asleep sitting on the bench, so I did not want to wake him. I felt sorry for him. He’s been under a lot of stress the past couple of days. How can a young college boy bear up under such pressure? Sunanda wanted to come but I didn’t let her because even though Ghusuŕi is on the edge of becoming a true township, it’s still rural at heart. After nine everything is completely still, the solitude of silence. Here the women don’t go outside after nightfall. So I forbade Sunanda to come and I came myself with the help of a stick.”
“You have done yourself a grave injustice,” I told him. “Anyway, keep the stick in one hand and let me hold the other.”
In this way I started for Sujit’s house holding his hand. From the little I could make out in the darkness, I could see that most of the ponds and pits had been filled up. There were hardly any bamboo groves to be seen, just one or two in the distance. But one could still hear the droning of crickets in Ghusuŕi as evening fell.
I told Sujit, “One can hear the sound of crickets here.”
“They have been consulting the almanac,” Sujit said, “to determine which day they will leave Ghusuŕi for good. Not much time is left now. They also have to go; they must go.”
“You never did return,” Sujit continued, “since you left the last time. Tell me, why have you been living incognito?”
“You have also been incognito,” I told him. “You didn’t write a single letter. Thankfully, Sunanda sent a telegram. That’s why I’ve come. You are more guilty of living incognito than I am.”
Sujit smiled sadly and said, “Yes, you are right. I have been living incognito. There is no proper adjective, good or bad, that can be used to describe or signify this living incognito. The only thing that can be said about this living incognito is that it is natural. This happens in a man’s life; it has to happen. What I would like, then, is that you should also keep in touch with those who are living incognito in the same way that you do with those who are not.”
While we were walking I realized that we were approaching Sujit’s house. Yes, there was that neatly decorated house and the lovely, colorful garden.
“Let us have some fun,” Sujit said. “You ring the doorbell and I’ll stay back a little and hide. Sunanda will be surprised to see you. It will be great fun.”
I rang the doorbell. From outside I could hear that inside the house everything was silent. After I had rung the doorbell for quite some time, Sunanda finally opened the door. When she recognized me, she burst into tears and then collapsed on the ground in front of me. After a few moments Sudhii came running up. When Sunanda told him who I was, he looked at me and then he also burst out crying.
I looked behind me only to find that Sujit was not there where he was supposed to be. Perhaps he had moved back a little, a little further away, to a more distant hiding place.
It was from Sudhii that I learned that Sujit had died the previous Monday at three in the morning.
In the next stage of Sindhu-Saoviira, the Aryans reached Haritdhánya (Haritdhánya > Hariahánna > Hariháná > Hariyáná). In the following stage they reached Brahmávartta and Brahmarśidesha (the confluence of the rivers Ganges and Yamuna rivers, also known as Prayág). During the age of the Mahábhárata, a large part of Brahmávarta was known as the kingdom of Shúrasena with its capital at Mathura; its king was Kaḿsa and afterwards Krśńa. The Shúrasena Kayasthas are called Mathurá Kayasthas.(7)
In the subsequent stage they reached the kingdom of Káshii. When they attempted to proceed from Káshii towards Magadha and Videha they faced great resistance. They even declared Magadha to be a non-Vedic or non-Aryan land. Upon conquering Videha after great struggle, they performed the trihotriiya sacrifice (a ritual sacrifice performed by three sacrificial priests; generally a sacrifice is performed by one) and named it the Trihotriiya land or Tirhut (the name Mithila is almost contemporary with Videha). After somehow conquering Mithila and Magadha, they proceeded towards Ráŕh and there they met with insurmountable opposition.
This conflict between Ráŕh and the Aryan civilization kept Bengal beyond the ambit of Áryávarta until the end. Bengal belongs neither to Áryávarta nor to the Deccan. Even though the Bengali language is one of the luminaries of Sanskrit and Aryan language group, the Dravidian influence is predominant in the physical composition of the Bengali race. This proves that the Aryans could not settle here permanently; the physical composition of Bengalis reflects a far greater Austric-Dravidian influence than Aryan influence. There is also considerable Mongolian influence, especially in North, East and Southeast Bengal. The Dravidian influence is extremely strong in Ráŕh (thus, according to anthropology, Bengalis are Austrico-Mongolo-Negroid). Not only did the Aryans meet with resistance at the borders of Ráŕh, it is rumored that at Barjyabhúmi (Birbhum) when they saw the Aryans, the [local indigenous] population unleashed their pet dogs and wolves (vrkavyághra) against them. So the Aryans used to say that the land of Ráŕh had to be abandoned (Barjjyaniiya), that is, it is Bajjyabhúmi. Regarding Bengal it was said: “We do not understand what the people of that land say in their chirping bird language.” In later times many smártas [scholars of social scriptures] made an injunction that, except for the Gauṋgáságara pilgrimage, if anyone came to Bengal, then they would be considered to have committed a sin both of commission and omission. They used to arrive by boat during the Gauṋgáságara pilgrimage, take their bath and return again by water without ever touching the soil of Bengal; thus they avoided the crime of touching the land.
Just as the Aryans met with resistance to the east in Bengal, similarly in the south they came up against the insurmountable summits of the Satpura and Vindhya Mountains. Since the Vindhya Mountains were so difficult to cross, the following areas remained out of the Aryan reach: the southern areas of Maharastra that lie across the Vindhya Mountains (Vidarbha is part of Áryávarta but Márát́há and Kouṋkańa are part of the Deccan), Triliuṋgabhúmi (Telengana or Andhra), Karnát́akdesh (or the land of Kannada), Gomantaka (Goa), Drámila (Tamil Nadu), Kerala and the southern part of Orissa (Utkala: the northwestern part of Orissa, which was known as Koshala or south Koshla, however, was regarded as a part of Áryávarta, and that is why even today there still remains a significant cultural and psychological gap between Koshala and Utkala). For similar reasons, the Pathans and Mughals also failed to significantly extend their dominion over this area. It is said that Maharishi Agastya was the first to cross the Vindhya Mountains along with his followers and extend the Aryan influence into the south. From that time onwards, the area south of the Vindhyas came to be known as Dákśińátya or Dakśińápatha or Dákśińa (the word Deccan is derived from the word dákśińa).
According to a story in the Puranas, Maharshi Agastya had to use diplomacy [kut́abuddhi] when he entered the Deccan. The Vindhya Mountains were very high peaks. The Aryans were not able to cross to the other side. So they said to Agastya: “Nobody is your equal in diplomacy. Please find some way to destroy the height of the Vindhya Mountains.” Maharshi proceeded south. When the Vindhyas saw Maharshi Agastya approaching, they bowed down their head in his honour. Agastya said: “Bless you. I am headed south. Unless and until I return, you should remain in the same state of salutation, that is, with your head bowed.”
The Maharshi proceeded south and never returned. The Vindhyas remained with their heads bowed and the Aryans were able to easily enter the south. Because of this fame for diplomacy [kutábudhi], Maharshi Agastya became famous as kut́amuni or kut́arśi. So you see, one meaning of kut́amuni, kut́arśi or kut́aja is Maharshi Agastya.
This word agastya is also found in Hebrew and Latin as “Augustine.” The name of the month of August is also derived from the word agastya.
This is what happened in the case of Dronacarya. His son’s name was Ashvaththama, and Ashvaththama was also the name of an elephant killed in the Mahábhárata war. Dronacarya was informed of the death of Ashvaththama, the elephant, when Yudhisthira proclaimed ashvaththámá hatah [Ashvaththama is dead]. When he said iti gaja [the elephant] in a soft voice, the drums and tom-toms were loud enough that Dronacarya could not hear that portion. He thought that it was his son, Ashvaththama, who was dead. He became so upset on the battlefield that he was killed in the battle. According to a Puranic story, Ashvaththama was blessed with the boon of immortality (like Hanuman), thus Ashvaththama did not die nor can he [ever]. In olden times some people used to consider Ashvaththama a virtuous person [puńyashloka]. In later times people used to consider Vaedehii instead of Ashvaththama as virtuous:
Puńyashloka Ńala rájá puńyashloka Yudhist́hirah,
Puńyashloka ca Vaedehii puńyashloka Janárdanah.
[The king Nala is virtuous. Yudhisthira is virtuous and Vaedehii, i.e., Sita, is virtuous. Janardana, i.e., Krśńa, is also virtuous.]
Dronacarya had great affection for Ashvaththama, not only because he was his own son but also because Ashvaththama was revered and considered virtuous by many.
Thus the death of Dronacarya resulted from his hearing, through a diplomatic stratagem, the bad news of Ashvaththama’s death. Since the time of the Mahábhárata, kut́a has also meant Dronacarya.
Káyet(8) mare jale bháse
Kák bale kon chale áche.
[The káyet is dead and floating on the water; the crow says: there must be some trick up his sleeve.]
In other words, if the dead body of a Kayastha is floating on the water a crow will not peck at it. The crow thinks that surely the man is not dead; he is pretending, dissimulating, lying there like that. I shall be in trouble if I go near him. It is difficult to say for certain whether or not the Kayasthas have marked diplomatic abilities, but it is true that the Kayasthas are an educated, intelligent, devout and self-respecting community. One of the meanings of the word kut́a is Kayastha.
The use of only the word kut́a for kut́astha caitanya is rarely found. The compound word kut́astha-caitanya is used.
Kut́aja
Kut́a + jan + d́a = kut́aja. The etymological meaning of kut́aja is “that which grows in mountains”.
Kut́apa
Kut́a + pá + d́a = kut́apa. Kut́apa means a flower garden prepared in the front or on the side of a house. If there are flowering plants in tubs in the front of the house or in the front part of the terrace, these also can be called kut́apa. Kut́apa in neuter gender (kut́apaḿ – kut́ape – kut́apáni) means “lotus”.
Kut́ara
Kut́a + rá +d́a = kut́ara.
Kut́t́a
The verbal root kut́t́ (kut́t́i) + ka = kut́t́a. The verbal root kut́t́ means “to grind”, “to make fit for use”, “to cut into pieces”, “to beat boiled paddy into flattened rice”, “to mince vegetables”, “to husk paddy”, etc. The etymological meaning of kut́t́a is “that which has been made fit for use or which has been ground”. Colloquially kut́t́a refers to vegetables that have been rendered suitable for cooking after cutting and slicing.
Kut́t́aka
Kut́t́a + kan = kut́t́aka. The etymological meaning of kut́t́aka is “that which multiplies qualities” (invests with qualities).
Kut́t́ima
Kut́t́a + imac = kut́t́ima. The etymological meaning is “that which is used for cutting” or “that which has been created by cutting”. Colloquially the word kut́t́ima is used in a variety of senses:
Footnotes
(1) Usage is accepted because of popularity despite being grammatically incorrect. –Trans
(2) A Sanskrit word used in unaltered form in Bengali. –Trans.
(3) A rule of Sanskrit grammar which states that the second case-ending is used when an expression is associated with time or place. –Trans.
(4) A rule of Sanskrit grammar which states that the third case-ending is used when an expression is associated with the resultant of action. –Trans.
(5) In mythology Tilottamá was a beautiful maiden created by a god. –Trans.
(6) Presently in Bangladesh. This district was divided between India and Bangladesh. -Trans.
(7) While it is true that there is some small difference in appearance between the Kayasthas and non-Kayasthas of Bengal, the difference is not so vast. You can recognize Kayasthas when you see them. Even if they differ somewhat in appearance, they are also Bengalis. There is a vast difference in appearance between the Brahmins of Maharastra and the Márát́hás. By comparison, the difference between the Kayasthas and non-Kayasthas of Bengal is negligible. It often goes unperceived. Moreover, it cannot be denied that there has been racial intermingling.
(8) Kayastha > Káyattha > Káyet
(9) A famous mathematician of middleage India. –Trans.
(10) The lime that is prepared throughout southern Bengal by burning the shells of snails and oysters is called quicklime or kalicun. Our city got the name Kalikátá due to the quicklime and coir-rope [kátádaŕi] business. Hence, whitewashing a wall is called kali pheráno in southern Bengal. Since there is plenty of limestone or ghuting in Ráŕh, especially western Ráŕh, the lime that was produced or is produced there by burning limestone is called “stone lime” [páthure cun]. There is no necessity in western Ráŕh of producing quicklime. For this reason, whitewashing a house is not called kali pheráno. Charcoal is called auṋgára (áuṋgára) there and mineral coal is called “stone coal” [páthure kaylá].
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kut́t́ii
Kut́t́ + ii = Kut́t́ii. Kut́t́ii means “that which cuts”, “that which grinds”, “that whose blow smashes and destroys things”. Colloquially kut́t́ii means “hill”. Kut́t́ii + rá + d́a = kut́t́iira. Kut́t́iira means “high hill” or “mountain”, or else a house that rises very high within a small space. Remember that kut́ira [hut] has one t́ while kutt́t́iirra has two; there is a short i in kut́ira while kut́t́iira has a long ii. Kut́t́iira must be spelled with long ii.
Kut́ha
Kut́h + ka = kut́ha. The verbal root kut́h means “sitting idle at one place”, or “spreading a net all around while remaining in one place”. The verbal root kut́h is the verbal form for laziness. That is why kuŕe, which is derived from the root kut́h, means “lazy” (kut́haka > kud́haa > kuŕhaa >kuŕe). The colloquial meaning of kut́ha is:
Kut́hára
Kut́ha + r +d́a + ań (or its elongated form). The meaning of the root r is “to move forward”, from which the word árya [Aryan] is derived. The etymological meaning of the word kut́hára is “that which moves towards kut́ha or tree”. Colloquially the word kut́hára means “axe”.
One meaning of the word ra, derived from the root verb r, is “one who moves forward”. In ancient times when people started using horses to pull carts, they used to cry out ra to urge the horse to move forward. They used to say “ra-ra-ra” and the horse moved forward. And when they said tha, they were telling it to stop (tha-tha-tha, i.e., sthá + d́a = stha > tha). That cart or carriage or vehicle was called ratha [chariot].
Kut́háriká
Kut́háriká means “a small axe”, one that is usually not used for cutting trees.
Kut́háru
The word kut́háru is derived by adding the suffix uń to kut́h + r. Its etymological meaning is “that which moves towards a tree”. The colloquial meanings of kut́háru are:
Kut́hi
Kut́h + i = kut́hi. The etymological meaning is “one who stands idle and motionless”. Colloquially kut́hi refers to:
Kut́hera
Kut́h + erach = kut́hera. The etymological meaning of kut́hera is “one whose movement is towards the quality of a tree”, that is, one who wants timber. The colloquial meanings of kut́hera are:
Generally the swallow wort [Calotropis gigantia], tamarind and cactus are planted as auxiliary plants. This species of sandalwood prefers a somewhat dry climate but it does not like intense heat. It dies in its infancy in Bengal as well as in areas of heavy rainfall, and it also does not survive in the extremely hot areas of North India either; it dries up in the intense heat. Apart from South India, the area most suitable for it is the Ráŕh region of Bengal, that is, the areas of Purulia, Birbhum and Bankura, where it can grow easily. The tree begins emitting its scent when it reaches about twenty years of age. It takes longer for trees belonging to the Indonesian species to begin producing scent. I have seen a tree belonging to the Indonesian species that was not producing any scent even after twenty-eight years of age.
The red sandalwood is a forest tree with mildly fragrant red timber; it generally prefers somewhat hilly areas with medium rainfall. Red sandalwood can grow very easily in Assam, Bengal and Orissa. Red sandalwood trees grow fast and are larger than white sandalwood. In most cases where there is a red sandalwood tree near a white sandalwood tree, it is found that the white sandalwood tree dies under the dominance of the red sandalwood tree. The red sandalwood tree has indomitable vitality. However, red sandalwood has hardly any utility value compared to white sandalwood. Followers of orthodox religion generally use red sandalwood for worship of the goddess Kali and for sun worship. At one time the use of red sandalwood was widely prevalent among the Shákadviipii Brahmans. Today it is no longer so. Black sandalwood is a sub-species of white sandalwood. This sandalwood is generally used for oil preparation.
Normally the basil with larger-sized green leaves that does not grow very large is called rádhá tulasii. Rádhá tulasii is mainly of two species. The leaves of one species have a light green colour and a stronger, soft scent. The other species has even lighter green leaves – whitish-green you can say. Its scent is weaker but its wood is relatively stronger.
Basil garlands are made from the wood of this whitish rádhá tulasii and certain communities use them as a necklace. Another meaning of the word kut́hera is this rádhá tulasii with whitish-green leaves.
Kut́heraka
Kut́hera + kan = kut́heraka. The etymological meaning of kut́heraka is kut́hera or “white basil”, or “that which is connected with white sandalwood”. The whitish wood of rádhá tulasii from which necklaces are made, and which produces a kind of paste called vrajapralepa when rubbed on a candanpiṋŕi [stone-mortar used for sandalwood], is also called kut́heraka.
Kut́heru
Kut́her + uń = kut́heru. The etymological meaning of kut́heru is “that which is stable”, or “that which is set in limited surroundings”. The colloquial meanings of kut́heru are:
Since well water is stagnant, people in ancient times would not use this water for different kinds of religious rites. They would use Ganges water, or if that was not available then the water of some other river. If that was also not available then they would use the water of a large lake (báṋdh in Ráŕhii Bengali) and purify that water with the help of sacred incantations. Sarah or sarobara (báṋdh in Ráŕhii Bengali) refers to a water reservoir with large waves in which fish eggs burst open and young fish are born. Those reservoirs that have small waves due to being smaller in size, and in which fish eggs do not burst open, are called puśkarińii (pukura – in Ráŕhii Bengali pokurá), taŕága, diirghiká (diighi), gaŕe or d́obá [varieties of ponds]. The fish that live in these kinds of small bodies of water can be generally divided into three groups: (1) Long-lived fish (anabas, catfish, barbel, etc.). These long-lived fish can survive for quite some time after being taken out of the water. Since they can be kept alive for a long time in a pot with a little water they are called jiiyal [long-lived] fish(3) (2) The second group is called cárá fish [small fish]. Khayrá, khorsolá, saral puṋt́i (also called sar puṋt́i), belegugli, pet́haldii and so on, belong to this group. Their eggs sometimes open due to the impact of the waves but often they do not. (3)The third group is called kuco or bhuso fish [tiny fish], for example, teṋto puṋt́i, chot́o khayrá, tecoká, prawn, shrimp, etc. Their eggs open in small bodies of water, even in the puddles of autumn paddy fields.
The water in puśkarińii, taŕága, diirghiká (diighi), gaŕe and d́obá is also considered to be stagnant water and thus impure. Mánasa Sarobara [in Tibet] is a huge body of water and for this reason its water is considered sacred.
Kud́a
Kud́ + ka = kud́a. The verbal root kud́ means: “to indulge in childish pranks” (in a pejorative sense, just as in English the word “childish” is used in a pejorative sense while the word “childlike” is used in a praiseworthy sense), “to cling to something without reason, or refusal to give it up”, “to gulp down food in a great hurry without a sense of etiquette”, “to flail one’s arms and legs, or to hurt somebody without any intention of striking them”, “to burn something, thus making it fit for use (for example, a clay pot)”. Etymologically kud́ refers to different states of matter originating from some action. In colloquial usage kud́ means:
Kud́i
Kud́ + i = Kud́i (the pronunciation should be kuŕi as there is no separate letter ŕ in the Sanskrit alphabet). Kud́i means “the entire human body with twenty fingers and toes”. In old Austric language also the human body was called kuŕŕ. The word kuŕi [twenty] is derived from this kuŕŕ. In olden days when the Austric people were not well versed in calculation of numbers, they were naturally not acquainted with numerals. To indicate one they showed one finger; to indicate five they showed one hand; to indicate ten they showed two hands; to indicate fifteen they showed two hands and one foot; and to indicate twenty they showed the entire human body with its twenty fingers and toes. In this way the word kuŕi was introduced into Bengali. In some people’s opinion the word kuŕi is adopted into Sanskrit, that is, it is originally Austric and then later accepted in Sanskrit.
Kud́upa
Kud́ + uń +pá +d́a = kud́upa. The etymological meaning of kud́upa is “that which holds something or clings to it”, that is, a ring-like object. Colloquially kud́upa has several meanings.
Kitáboṋ kii kuṋjii tere háthoṋmeṋ hái,
Agar yád karleṋ to kyá vát hái.
[The keys of the books are in your hands. If you commit them to memory how nice it would be.]
The word cábi has been in use in Bengali for nearly four hundred years, but we have not yet completely discarded the word kát́hi. For instance, even now we often say cábikát́hi (sindukt́i tomár cábi-kát́hi ámár– “the chest is yours, the key is mine”.
Although there is no separate letter ŕa in Sanskrit, if the letter d́a occurs in the middle or at the end of a word it is pronounced ŕa. So we write kud́upa but pronounce it kuŕupa. You know that the letter d́ha is not always pronounced in the same way. It is pronounced d́ha at the beginning of a word but ŕha in the middle or end, for example, d́hakká [drum] but Áśá[d́]ŕha [third month of Bengali calendar]; similarly d́anká [trumpet] but á [d́]ŕhambara [pomp and grandeur]. However, in those cases where the letters are pronounced without the terminal vowel, the rule is that if they are joined to an antahstha(4) letter [ya, ra, la, va], then their original pronunciation is retained. For example, in the spelling kud́ya the letter d́a does not occur at the beginning of the word. So for this reason it should have been kuŕya, but it is not because here the antahstha letter ya has been joined to d́a. So even though the letter d́a occurs in the middle or at the end, it is not pronounced ŕa, but rather d́a. Similarly, in the spelling of the word áryya the letter ya is not at the beginning. For that reason its pronunciation should have been like antahstha, i.e., áryya. Since in this case the antahstha letter ra has been conjoined to the letter ya, the pronunciation should be árya [árja] and not áryya. For this reason the pronunciations káryyálaya, káryyakrama, áryya, paryyaya are not correct; they should be káryálaya, káryakrama, árya, paryáya, etc.
Kud́ya
Kud́ + yac = kud́ya. Kud́ya means “that which has been hardened by burning”. Colloquially kud́ya means:
Kuńd́a
Kud́ (kud́i) + ach gives us the word kuńd́a whose etymo-logical meaning is “something fixed or measured”. One colloquial meaning of kuńd́a is:
The word kuńd́a has also been used to refer to undesirable intruders or floating population; that is, in this sense kuńd́a means “vagrant” or “gipsy”.
Kuńd́akiit́a
Kúnd́a means “a limited body of water”. Various kinds of moss-eating insects take shelter in stagnant ponds, and different varieties of lizards and members of the iguana and chameleon families gather there in order to eat these moss-eating insects. All of them are confined to this limited domain; they cannot go outside it. Even if they are driven out they return to that place. A person who remains within a limited domain, who does not see the outside world, we call a “frog in the well” (kúpamańd́uka in Bengali; kúyá ke med́haka in Hindi).
The word med́haka in Hindi comes from mańd́uka. The d́a of the original word has changed to d́ha. This happens only with ńd́a, that is, it is not prevalent or ubiquitous. The same type of change occurs with the word d́heṋki, which is derived from d́hend́haka or d́hend́hakii. Of course, the word d́hend́haka or d́hend́hakii was once quite common in Sanskrit. Whether or not a person is a frog in the well, they are called kuńd́akiit́a [kuńd́a insect] if their thought has no external movement, that is, if their thought remains circumscribed, if they are guided by dogma, or if they cannot think of the external world due to being guided by dogma.
Someone who resides in Bajepratappur of Burdwan District and who has never been out of Bajepratappur, we call a frog in the well, while we cannot call someone a frog in the well if they have been outside of Burdwan on numerous occasions. But if that person shows poverty of thought, if they cannot move even a single step outside the bounds of dogma or do not have the courage to move ahead, then instead of calling them a frog in the well we can call them a kuńd́akiit́a.
Kuńd́ala
Kuńd́a + lá + d́a = kuńd́ala. Its etymological meaning is “that which holds the kuńd́a”. There is another view which holds that the word kuńd́ala is also derived by adding the suffix alac to the root verb kud́. The root verb lá begins with la. Notwithstanding those who assert that the word is derived by adding the suffix alac, I will point out that the la of alac is a suffixed la; here it must be an initial la. Thus an initial la is used to spell kund́ala. The colloquial meanings of kuńd́ala are:
When I mention that kuńd́ala means “shirt collar”, a small incident flashes before my mind’s eye.
I was traveling from Máju to Mákaŕd́á. On the way I suddenly ran into Manimohana Manna. Many of you know our Manimohana. We say about people who are artful talkers that puffed rice bursts open from their mouths, but in the case of Manimohana I would say that puffed rice coated with raw sugar bursts open from his mouth. He is an expert talker but his every word is so sugarcoated that it seems to be puffed rice dipped in the famous palm raw sugar of Kolaghat.
Anyhow I was travelling from Máju to Mákaŕd́á. This part of Howrah District is very fertile. It has been densely populated since ancient times. When Howrah fell within the jurisdiction of Burdwan it was the pride of Bengal. Afterwards, when it came within Hooghly District, it was regarded as one of the prosperous areas of Hooghly District. Later on, when Hooghly District was divided and Howrah District was formed, this area remained within Howrah District. Partially without industry, partially industrialized, it was the jewel of the region, shedding its lustre on the whole of Bengal through its scholarship, industriousness and erudition. There was a time when the vast Sarasvatii River used to flow through this area. The Sarasvatii River came out of the main branch of the Bhagiirathii River at Triveńi in Hooghly District’s Mogra Thana. It came out from the right side of the Bhagiirathii. The Yamuna River came from the exact opposite direction, that is, from the left side of the Bhagiirathii through the Chakda and Haringhata Thanas of what was then Nadia District, the adjoining region. This confluence of the rivers Ganges, Yamuna and Sarasvatii Rivers is renowned as the Triveńitiirtha [holy confluence of three rivers] or the Mukta [liberated] Triveńii.
Muktaveńiir Gauṋgá jetháya mukti vitare rauńge.
[The liberated stream of the Ganges joyously bestows liberation.]
From there the Sarasvatii flowed through the fertile, verdant grasslands and grain fields of Hooghly District until it reached Howrah District. There it used to flow past the meadows of Kenduá on its right side. What we call nowadays the Kenduá meadows was a vast lake in prehistoric times. The lake gradually filled up and turned into the Kenduá marshlands or Kenduá meadows. Up until a hundred years ago the rice and paddy crops never failed in the Kenduá marshlands. Rice and rice paddy used to be exported from the port of Amta by ship to foreign lands along the Damodara River. Those days are gone. Nowadays the Damodara is almost dried up. Its water is not even knee-deep now, so the plying of ships is out of the question.
After moving a little to the south it joined the Bhagiirathii near Andul. This Sarasvatiii river basin was at one time one of the wonders of the world for its people and wealth. The wealth and scholarship there used to humble even the most arrogant. Though that glory no longer exists, its memory remains, and that is precious enough. It is a matter of regret that Howrah District, like the city of Howrah, lies neglected and uncared for, though its prospects and possibilities are enormous.
Mákaŕd́á was situated close to the Sarasvatii River in those days. Although a large part of the external trade of Bengal at that time was carried out from the Port de Bauṋgálá (Cattagram) and the Port de Grandi (Saptagram), Mákaŕd́á also was a busy port. Merchants belonging to the Sáhá, Támbuli, Gandhabańika and Suvarńabańika communities were the principle contributors to the growth of its wealth. Brahmans and Kayasthas brought the glow of scholarship, and the skilful peasants of the Máhiśya and Sadgope communities produced golden harvests. The heroism of the Kaivarta fishing community became famous far and wide. They were respected in the society as “Bara” [a surname], the best, and were primarily responsible for the formation of the navy of independent Bengal. This area was also home at that time to a shipbuilding factory where indigenous methods were used. That industry perished during British rule. The expert carpenters and Kaivarta fishermen of this place built those ships. The merchants of this area also set out to sea after loading their goods on those ships.
Today things have changed. Mákaŕd́á or Sarasvatii has moved on, the Sarasvatii has dried up, and the wealth of Mákaŕd́á has been transferred to other places. There are three chief reasons for this. The first reason is the changing of course and subsequent drying-up of the Sarasvatii. The second reason is the decline of rural industries. The third reason is the loss of economic balance and equilibrium owing to defects in education and the social system. In general, in order to build a strong economy in a certain area thirty to forty percent of the population of that area – neither more nor less – should be dependent directly on agriculture. If it is less then agriculture is neglected; conversely, if it is more, then there will be a heavy strain on agriculture. That is exactly what has happened in this Máju-Mákaŕd́á region. What to speak of Máju-Mákaŕd́á, the same thing has happened throughout Ráŕh, throughout Bengal, throughout India, and even in China and the whole of the Southeast Asia. To combat this problem a new social and economic evaluation is necessary.
Just as agriculture should be built up on an advanced scientific foundation, industry should also be organized in perfect adjustment with agriculture. The percentage of the population depending directly on agriculture should not exceed forty percent. Where rural industries have been destroyed, a major part of the population once engaged in that sector is now moving towards agriculture. Just as the percentage of people depending directly on agriculture should be thirty to forty percent for balanced economic development, about twenty percent of the people should depend on agro-industries, twenty percent on agrico-industries, ten percent on general trade and commerce, and ten percent on intellectual or white collar jobs.
Because village industries have been ruined, those who depended on those industries have turned to agriculture. The percentage of merchants has not increased much; rather the opportunities for further growth have decreased. However the number of people looking for white-collar jobs has increased, resulting in soaring unemployment.
The sons of farmers, after receiving a little education, are no longer willing to labour in the fields. They want to become Babus [title of a Hindu gentleman]; they consider farm work to be menial labour. As a consequence there is a dearth of educated youths in agriculture on the one hand, and on the other an increasing number of people from other vocations turning towards agriculture. In the rural areas the percentage of the population depending primarily on agriculture has gone up to seventy or eighty percent. What an unbearable situation! So just as social and economic life in other parts of Bengal has been turned upside down, Máju-Mákaŕd́á is no exception. This Máju-Mákaŕd́á region was Howrah District’s greatest potential for economic development but that hope has been shattered. Today the city of Howrah is neglected, so it is not capable of supplying vital energy to rural Bengal.
Non-agricultural industry (such as steel plants, brass industry, metal industry, oil refineries, salt industry and non-plant based pharmaceuticals) refers to those industries that are neither direct agrico-industries (such as the production of pick-axes, spades and tractors) nor industries that are directly dependent on agriculture, that is, agro-industries (such as jute mills, cloth factories, flour mills, paper mills and plant-based medicines). The percentage of people engaged in non-agricultural industry should be formed by reducing the percentage of people depending directly on agriculture, reducing the percentage of people depending on agrico-industries and reducing the percentage of people engaged in agro-industries. The percentage of people engaged in non-agricultural industries should be kept within twenty to thirty of the total population. If the percentage is less than twenty percent, the country is said to be industrially undeveloped and the per capita income of the people cannot be very high. The standard of living also cannot be very high because the purchasing capacity of the people remains very limited. Due to the reduced capacity for purchasing consumer goods, the import index remains lower than the export index or the area has to remain a satellite of a developed country. As a consequence, the balance of power in the world is jeopardized and the possibility of war is always around the corner.
If the percentage of people engaged in non-agricultural industry is kept between twenty and thirty percent of the population, then it creates a state of balance, a balanced socio-economic system. If the percentage goes beyond thirty percent it becomes an industrially developed area. The more the percentage rises beyond thirty percent, the more the area goes from industrially developed to industrially over-developed. In order to procure agricultural produce the industrially over-developed countries try to convert agriculturally predominant regions into their satellites. They feel the need to keep these industrially undeveloped countries under their control in order to serve as a market for their finished goods. If they do not obtain markets for their industrially produced consumer goods, they will have to suffer from economic recessions and growing unemployment.
In this regard, there is no difference between communist and non-communist countries. All of them are equally aggressive in their approach. They are desperately searching for the wish-fulfilling cow, which they want to keep tied to their door, feeding it the minimum amount of fodder. Is it any wonder there are so many wars and conflicts in the world, so much war psychosis and sabre-rattling! Efforts must be made so that each and every country of the world can enjoy a balanced state in both agriculture and industry; otherwise the socio-economic balance of the world is bound to be destroyed.
The negative consequences of over-industrialization result in the deterioration of the personal, social and political health; due to the gradual psychic degeneration of both individuals and the collective, a kind of psychic epidemic may become rampant any moment which can endanger or jeopardize every expression of life. It may not happen today, but it will surely happen in the near future.
Where the industrial system (whether it is agro-industry, agrico-industry or non-agricultural industry) depends on outside labourers, the situation becomes precarious. The speed of psychic degeneration accelerates. Such a region will suffer from a chronic scarcity of food. The possibility of expanding the markets for their consumer goods will be gradually become curtailed. As an example, we can look at Howrah, Hooghly, 24-Parganas and Burdwan. Since the labourers there are outsiders, the local people will never see good days. However developed or over-developed these areas might become, they will have to endure the ill effects of over-industrialization without being able to enjoy any of the benefits of industrialization. This sort of scenario can be seen daily in Howrah District. Moreover there are still many such areas in India where ninety percent of the population consists of farmers. There is no industry whatsoever in those areas. They are completely surplus labour areas. A balanced socio-economic structure will have neither surplus labour nor deficit labour. It cannot be permitted.
The agricultural system should be built up similar to the industrial system; that is, the prices of agricultural produce should be determined by considering basic factors like agricultural income, expenses and necessities. In other words, the farmers of Burdwan and Birbhum should not be forced to sell their rice at throwaway prices. Similarly, the farmers of Hooghly district should not be compelled to sell their potatoes at cheap prices, and the farmers of Nadia District should not be forced to sell their jute at low prices in order to pay off their debts.
Yes, Mákaŕd́á is still some distance away. I remember now that old history of Mákaŕd́á. Rich in scholarship and wealth, Mákaŕd́á was once a center of Maháyána Buddhism. Just as Támralipta (Tamluk) was a center of Maháyána Buddhism and an external port, so also was Mákaŕd́á. Tamluk’s Vargabhiimá is a goddess of the Buddhist period. Even though Mákaŕd́á’s Mákaŕdácańd́ii (Márkańd́eyii Cámuńd́ii or Márkańd́eyii Vajratárá; both are canonized in Buddhist Tantric treatises) cannot exactly be said to be a Buddhist goddess; she is nevertheless a popular goddess from the Buddhist period.
When the Bengalees abandoned Buddhism and they kept Mákaŕdácańd́ii but gave her a different name. But the fact that Mákaŕdácańd́ii is a popular goddess from the Buddhist period is suggested by its dhyanamantra [incantation for meditation] and by its similarity to the idol. It also clearly indicates that Mákaŕd́á is not from the present period.
Anyhow I ran into Manimohana Manna. He was going from his maternal uncle’s place in Máju to the house of his paternal aunt in Mákaŕd́á, planning to enjoy some delicious sweet pies and sweet-rice there before returning to his home in Mauriigrama.
“What are you up to nowadays?” I asked him, “taking so much holiday time, so many visits to your uncle’s house and your aunt’s house!”
“I have taken a long leave,” he replied. “As you know, our Howrah District’s Paośa festival is a very big festival. There are sweet pies and sweet-rice in every house.”
Sukher shishir kála sukhapurńa dhará,
Eta bhauṋga bauṋgadesh tabu rauṋge bhará.
[The world brims with joy in these dewy, happy times. So broken is the land of Bengal, yet so colorful.]
“Yes, you can say that”, I told him, “but what are you doing now?”
“I’m a bench clerk nowadays.”
“Bench clerk! That’s quite a respectable position, is it not?”
“It’s respectable, no doubt, but that respect is not worth anything if the magistrate is no good.”
“I can guess from what you are saying that perhaps you are not lucky enough to have a suitable magistrate these days.”
“You are exactly right.”
“What is your problem?”
“This magistrate is overly fastidious. Magistrates generally don’t bother about petty matters; they leave that to their bench clerks. Fixing the dates for court cases is surely the bench clerk’s job. However this magistrate is different. He asks me for reports about everything. He thinks over everything and then makes his own decisions. I find myself in a trying situation. Should a bench clerk have to submit so many reports? A bench clerk (peshkára) is someone who submits (pesh kará) or places (nyás kará) papers before the collector. He places or deposits (upanyás kará) them with the magistrate, so the Sanskrit word for bench clerk is aopanyásika (upa means near). But this magistrate is making my life a hell. I had to get out of there.”
“Is your magistrate a full magistrate?” I asked.
“No. Had he been a full magistrate it would not be so difficult. Full magistrates are learned, intelligent and sympathetic to the sorrows of others. He hasn’t passed to magistrate yet; he is an anáhárii(5) magistrate. That is why I have to suffer so much.”
“He may trouble you, but what do the peons and orderlies say?”
“The orderly Master Bigan Singh went on leave because he couldn’t take it any more.”
“Bigan Singh! What a funny name!”
“In Magadh for ‘throwing away something’ one says big dená. Parents who lose many children leave (big dená) their baby in a garbage bin in a last effort to save them. Then they take their baby back into their lap pretending that they are picking up some trash from the dustbin. Their secret hope is that by being something picked up from the garbage bin, the god of death might not touch the child, that is, take it to the house of death.”
“All sahibs are not the same,” I told him. “Some are gentle, some ill-tempered, some miserly and some generous. The bench clerk has to understand all this and keep the magistrate in a good mood. Have you forgotten that different offerings have to be arranged to please the different deities?”
“You are quite right,” Manimohana replied, “but I can’t stand it any more. I am thinking of going on extended leave. When this anáhárii magistrate is no longer here and when my emotional wounds have healed, then I will go back to work.”
“It’s not only that this anáhárii magistrate is troublesome,” Manimohana continued. “Because we humour him, the other employees criticize and ridicule us.”
“How so?” I asked.
“I’ll tell you one small incident. Our sahib, this anáhárii magistrate, is a skinflint, downright niggardly. But when it comes to himself he is quite generous. Recently he ordered an expensive imported shirt with a French silk collar from Paris, the capital of France. He even attended the office wearing this shirt once or twice but over the shirt he wore an ordinary, cheap coat. You may remember that there was a cyclone some days back which hit the southwest coast of Bengal. On the radio they said that there was a low-pressure system over the Bay of Bengal, or some such thing. There was a heavy rainstorm in the city that day. Everyone was completely drenched on their way to court. What could the magistrates do? They took off their coats and shirts and sat in the courtroom in their undershirts. The ordinary employees took off their shirts and brightened the room by sitting in their chairs bare-chested, like the roly-poly god Gańesha. I sat there with my torn undershirt on. The cool breeze was coming in through a hole in the undershirt; actually it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. Our sahib, however, was unwilling to take off his coat. I could see that underneath the coat he was wearing the same expensive French silk shirt with its dazzling collar. The sahib’s coat was completely drenched.”
“I told him, ́Sahib, please give me your coat. I’ll get it dried. It will be dry before we return home. Don’t you see that the sun is shining outside?’”
“The sahib was reluctant to take off his coat. There was a secret desire in my mind that I would make my human life blessed by fixing my greedy eyes again and again on his French silk shirt. Our luck was never going to favour us with such a shirt. Nor did I entertain such a dream. But the sahib was still reluctant to take off his coat. ́Sir, please take off your coat,’ I told him, ́your body will be wet and you will fall ill.’ Good or bad, the sahib said nothing.”
“The other magistrates have taken off their coats and shirts and are in their undershirts,’ I told him, ́but you can continue to wear your shirt. However, it would not be wise to continue wearing that wet coat.’”
“Even then the sahib said nothing.”
“Then I took the initiative and started unbuttoning his coat. This time the sahib had no more objections. There were a few newspaper reporters around. Had the sahib objected, they might have published in the newspapers that there was an uproar and a scuffle in the court, a tussle between the bench clerk and the anáhárii magistrate.”
“As there was no hindrance from the sahib, I took off his coat. But can you believe it! The collar of the sahib’s French silk shirt was fine, so were the buttonholes, but the back of the shirt was missing. Nor did it have a front or any sleeves. The sahib had bought a torn shirt from some second-hand shop and worn it inside his coat to show off in front of us. He had told us that his paternal aunt’s son’s paternal uncle’s daughter’s niece’s husband’s paternal aunt’s son had paid a French tailor five thousand rupees to make the shirt and then had sent it here by air.”
“I was flabbergasted. The sahib ran off to his personal chamber and bolted the door behind him. He did not come out until court was over for the day. The court orderly, Bigan Singh, recited a little ditty, uparme phit́phát́ niice mokámághát́ [spick and span on the surface, a dirty wharf below]. From then on the court employees were afraid to recite the ditty they had learned from Bigan within earshot of the Sahib, but whenever they saw us they repeated it – uparme phit́phát́ niice mokámághát́.”
“Now tell me what I should do. What else can I do but go on extended leave?”
“Your anáhárii magistrate certainly has a great sense of humour,” I told him. “He is a juicy humorist like a sweet, juicy drop of pulped pigeon pea dipped in date-palm raw sugar.”
“A hundred percent correct, a hundred percent, but I want to be rid of that sweet, juicy drop.”
“What is the name of your anáhárii magistrate?” I asked.
“His name is Shrii Akalmand Singh, address Sińt́i Shavapura, ledger number 6,000,000 (sixty lakhs), plot number 666.”
Kuńd́aliká
A coil-shaped sweet fried in oil and soaked in raw sugar.
Kuńd́alin
Kuńd́ala + in = kuńd́alin. The etymological meaning of kuńd́alin is “connected with kuńd́alii (coil)”.
The colloquial meanings of kuńd́alin are:
Kuńd́alinii
Kuńd́ala +ṋiic = kuńd́alinii. Kuńd́alinii means:
Kuńd́alii
Kuńd́u
Kuńd́ +ú = kuńd́u. The etymological meaning is, “one who clings”, that is, the owner of enormous wealth. The colloquial meaning is shreśt́hii, that is, one who is the owner of five lakhs [500,000] of gold coins. In a general sense kuńd́u refers to any merchant. The words shet́h, shet́hii, cettii, cettiar, and so on, are derived from shreśt́hii.
Footnotes
(1) In the Kolkata garden of this writer there are different species of white and red sandalwood. Any interested person, after taking permission from the garden authorities, can come and examine personally the difference between the two types of sandalwood.
(2) There are fourteen species of basil from different countries in the author’s garden. One of these species is called “camphor basil” and camphor can be derived from its sap. Of course, there are also camphor trees. In the modern world camphor produced chemically in a factory (synthetic camphor) is more widely used than herbal camphor.
(3) Jii means “life” in Bengali.
(4) Antahstha varńa: These letters are not pure consonants but rather midway between consonants and vowels; thus they are called antahstha varńa [letters lying in between]. –Trans.
(5) Literally “starving;” jocular for “honorary”.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kukśa
The verbal root kuś means “to extract”, “to prepare an essence”. For example, to draw honey from a honeycomb, to extract honey by squeezing the wax, to extract honey from flowers, to extract floral nectar from flowers, to prepare a floral essence, to extract medicinal material from green papaya and green spinach – all are functions of the verbal root kuś. The verbal root kuś also means, “to make a hole in the ground”. Kukśa is derived from the verbal root kuś and the suffix sa. The etymological meaning of kukśa is, “that in which a void or vacuum is created after extracting something”. If the abdomen is compressed, then the abdominal air moves. In colloquial usage, the hollow or void that appears in the upper part of the abdomen is called kukśa.
Kukśi
Kuś +ksi = kukśi. Usually the suffix i is used both in an affectionate sense and in a general sense; the suffix ki is used in a general sense and to denote result. And the suffix ksi is used in several specific senses. In ancient times certain scholars did not like to use the suffix ksi but other eminent scholars retained it because of its specific uses. You can also retain it since its use does not cause any serious complications. Etymologically kukśi refers to that void or nothingness that cannot be seen or discerned from the outside. The suffix ksi has been used here because it has this special connotation. Colloquially kukśi means “that void created inside the stomach due to hunger or any other reason”. Suppose a crocodile is hungry. A kukśi or void has been created inside its stomach. In this situation, if it eats a goat, then that kukśi will no longer exist. We say that a crocodile has devoured (kukśigata) a goat. Generally, if the second part of a compound word ends with the suffix kta or lyut́ then ii is inserted at the end of the preceding part. For instance, bhasma + bhúta = bhasmiibhúta [reduced to ashes]. Here the word bhúta ends with the suffix kta, so ii is inserted at the end of the word bhasma. In other words, the compound word becomes bhasmiibhúta. Similarly, sarala + krta = saraliikrta [simplification], nava + karańa = naviikarańa [renovation], khand́a + bhavana = khand́iibhavana [balkanization]. There is an i in the word kukśi, so kukśi + gata will not be kukśiigata but rather kukśigata; the i remains.
Kuńa
Kuńati is formed by adding ti in the present tense to the verbal root kuń. In this case the meaning of the root verb kuń is “to emit sounds intermittently”, “to eat while making occasional sounds”, “to move something around”. These are the etymological meanings of the word kuń. The colloquial meaning of the word kuń is “one who moves around in the midst of many others”. The Bengali word ekuńa is derived from this word kuń. The word ekuńa means “accumulation” or “cumulative figure”. If the present tense ti is added to the root kuń to form kuńayati, then it means “to converse about some important matter” or “to give advice”. If five people sit and discuss an important matter, then we can call their conversation kuńa; we can also use the word kuńacarcá. If a lawyer gives someone advice, we can also call it kuńayati. In this sense kuń + kan = kuńaka; the word means “lawyer” or “adviser in an important matter”.
In dysentery the pain that is sometimes present around the navel area is called kuńan. The word is derived from kuń + lyut́. In colloquial Bengali we also call it pet́ kuńan [pain in the belly]. By this you can understand that the expression pet́ kuńan is not native Bengali; it is a Sanskrit tatsama.
Kuńiká
Kuń + ikan + tá = kuńiká. The word kuńiká means “that with which non-liquid items (e.g., rice and pulse) are measured”, what we call kuńke in the spoken language.
Kuńi
Kuńa + i = kuńi. The word kuńi means “blunt weapon”. Its second meaning is “one who uses a blunt weapon”. Another meaning is “handicapped”, e.g., one who is without fingers, one whose fingers are crooked, a lame person, one who has a hare-lip (ganná kát́a), etc.
Kuńapa
Kuńa +apac = kuńapa, or kuńa + pá +d́a = kuńapa. In neuter gender the word kuńapa means “bad smell” or “foul smell”.
Kutanu
Ku + tan +un = kutanu. Its etymological meaning is “ugly form” or “body made of clay” or “clay image” or “clay doll”. The verbal root tan means “to expand”. The word tanu is used etymologically to mean “that which increases” or “that whose nature is to increase”. The colloquial meaning of the word tanu is “physical body”.
The human body develops over the course of some months in the mother’s womb. Then after birth it continues to develop up until approximately the age of thirty-nine (in tropical countries). Hence up until the age of thirty-nine the human body is called tanu. In tropical countries the human body after the age of thirty-nine should be called shariira, that whose nature is to become thin or emaciated.
In colloquial usage kutanu means:
When they accidentally come face to face with one another it turns into a women’s battlefield at Kurukshetra. What to speak of their neighbours, even if the great sage Narada were to appear, he would not be able to stop the fight. If you tell the daughter-in-law, “Why can’t you hold your tongue? How long is your mother-in-law going to live?” She will immediately retort: “You’ll see; I’ll die and a banyan tree will grow on my grave and even then my mother-in-law won’t die.” If you tell the mother-in-law – “Why more? Haven’t you had enough of worldly life? Go, retire to Kashii [Varanasi].” She will immediately jump up and say: “I have barely turned eighty; is this any age to be going to Kashii? Let me live a worldly life for at least another twenty years more. Let me see my great-grandson be born and then I will think about going to Kashii. I am not going to give up my house keys so easily.” In this case the mother-in-law and the daughter-in-law are kutanu for each other.
If a visarga [aspirant letter] is added to the word kutanu, then its meaning becomes “Kubera”, the god of wealth. Kutanu means “Kubera” and atanu means “Cupid”, or the god of love.
Kutapa
Ku +tapa = kutapa, or ku + tapas = kutapah. Ku means “diminishing”, ku means “the Earth”, and ku means “that which has decayed”. The etymological meaning of kutapa is “that fire which has lost its heat”.
According to the great sage Maharshi Kańáda, the first propounder of the atomic theory, instead of fixing only eight seconds for this, the time that is actually spent on the announcement, or expected to be spent, should be regarded as kutapa. This period of time can be less than eight seconds, exactly eight seconds or even a little more. Even though Maharshi Kańáda’s assertion is logical, it would not be proper to allow an indefinite period of time to indicate a particular hour. So it would be best to continue observing the tradition of adding eight seconds.
Kutu/Kutú
The word kutu is derived by adding the suffix uń to the verbal root kut (kuńt/kuti). The word kutú can also be derived by adding the suffix us. Both have the same meaning. The pronunciation in the Vedic age was kutu and in popular Sanskrit kutú. The meaning of the root kut is “to touch the ground”, “to make a bubbling sound”. Thus the etymological meaning of kutu/kutú is “that which touches the ground”, or “that which flutters” or “that which makes a bubbling sound”. In colloquial usage kutu means “large bottle”.
Kutuka
Kutu + kan = kutuka. The etymological meaning of kutuka is “the desire to know something in the hopes of getting pleasure”. Suppose somebody gives you led́ikeni [a kind of milk-sweet] to eat. You could well understand before you eat it that it is something delicious. While you understand that it is something delicious before eating it, you cannot determine what its name is; whether it is led́ikeni, pantuá or chánábaŕa [varieties of similar sweets]. Nor do you know how it is prepared. If you learn about it after eating it, then you might not relish the taste as much as you might have had you known beforehand, nor might you take as long to eat it. You might even think that had I known beforehand, I would have taken a little longer to enjoy it. Then when you come to know that it is made from milk curds – some ground milk curds [cheese] mixed together with semolina and then mixed with the remaining milk curds – it becomes all the more delicious. Then if the same preparation is fried in ghee, kept warm and then soaked in warm sugar syrup, its name would be led́ikeni. Once when Lord Canning came to Kolkata the Bengal government arranged for some famous confectioners to prepare this sweet in order to please the palate of this dignitary. It was given the name “Lady Canning” in honour of Mrs. Canning. Today it has become led́ikeni in Bengali, lat́kanii in Hindi (it is a feminine word; i.e., lat́kaniyáṋ biik rahii hai [lat́kaniyás are on sale]). After hearing this, one feels eager to know how it tasted. You should also take your time to enjoy it. Thus you will feel some curiosity to get to know this sweet.
Now you may have heard that when dried sweetened condensed milk (kśiira) is ground and mixed with milk curds along with some rice powder, its name is pántuá. Since it has comparatively more semolina, there is a hint of aristocracy in the flavour and scent of pántuá. Pántuá should have some syrup inside, but it will not be dripping wet or thoroughly soaked. Pánii means water; toya also means water. But both pánii and toya would be speechless to see the pantuá’s syrupy water. Thus the confectioners of Bengal towards the end of the Mughal era gave it the name pániitoya. That pániitoya has today become pántuá. So it is only natural that you have a sweet curiosity or kutuka to know that pániitoya!
When the capital of Bengal was transferred from Dacca to Murshidabad towards the end of the Mughal era, the best confectioners there, by order of the Nawab, prepared a milk- curd sweet and gave it the name chánábaŕa, and by doing so gave Lalbagh a place in history. Its specialty with respect to other sweets is that it is prepared from fresh, light cow’s milk curds. If it is prepared in good ghee, then it can be made very large. It is said that in olden times, a confectioner in Bahrampur prepared a chánábaŕá which weighed almost forty kilos. If true it would be rather amazing. So you must naturally have a sweet kutuka to know all about chánábaŕá.
Now if you find that the shape of the sweet is elongated, with rice powder mixed with the milk curds, but heated so that it absorbs sufficient syrup, much of which will come out if pressed, and the taste lingers in the mouth for a long time; for example, the lyáḿcá of Sháktigaŕa (many people mistakenly pronounce Burdwan’s Sháktigaŕa as Shaktigaŕa), then it is only natural that you will be interested in knowing all about lyáḿcá also.
So now you understand that kutuka means a desire to know whose final consequence is sweet – madhureńa samápayet [a meal should end with something sweet]. We derive the word kautuka [fun] by adding the suffix ań to kutuka.
The other meaning of the word kutuka is “small bottle”. Kutukii/kutikii means “phial”. It can also be spelled kutiiki/kutiki.
Kutupa
Kut+hupac/úpac = kutupa/kutúpa. Kutupa means “a leather bottle”, the kind that was used as a container for oil in ancient India. Even today in certain places in North India the oil extracted from jasmine flowers is sold in a kutupa. During our childhood in Bihar we saw the kutupa used in this way. We used to joke about the vendors who sold jasmine oil in kutupas:
Kyá terii kudrat kyá terá khel,
Chuchundar ká shar par cámeli ká tel.
[What is their divine power and what is their divine sport? Look, there is jasmine oil on the head of a mole.]
Kutupii means “leather phial”.
Kutuhala/Kutúhala
The etymological meaning of kutu/kutú is “that which makes a bubbling sound”. In colloquial usage it means “bottle”. Hala means “that which draws a line”. Its colloquial meaning is “plough”. The meaning of the word kutuhala/kutúhala is “to be filled with happiness by getting something”, or “to rejoice when getting something one likes or hearing news one likes”.
Talking about the meaning of kutúhala reminds me of an incident that happened long ago.
It was long ago, towards the end of British rule. One evening I went for a walk towards the hills. I was walking rather quickly. Suddenly I felt somebody walking behind me even faster. I ignored it. I did not look back.
Then I heard someone saying several times in a loud voice: “What a rascal, this Hirańakashipu’s rascal son Pellád, Hirańyakashipu’s rascal son Pellád.”
I turned back to find a familiar face, Viru da of Monghyr, Viru Roy. But once again I turned away. I thought that perhaps Viru Roy was in a somewhat unnatural state. You can certainly guess what I mean by “unnatural state”.
Yes, your guess is correct. Have I not told you that story of Krishnagar? One night a certain inveterate drunkard who had finished off an enormous kutú [bottle] fell in the gutter and was rolling around until he became senseless, exactly when no one knows. This memorable event of that night is not today a part of recorded history. Then dawn broke. The touch of the cold morning breeze and the cold water of the gutter sobered him. He opened his eyes and saw a large gathering of people around him. Someone was saying, “Oh, the fellow is dead!” Someone else was saying, “He drank so heavily that he passed out.” Yet another person was saying, “The fellow may not be drunk at all; it might be some other malady.” The drunkard was listening to everything, but out of shame he kept his eyes closed. Still, how long can one remain like that? One has to shake it off and get up. And so he had to open his eyes. As chance would have it, the moment he opened his eyes and looked at the crowd, he saw his son’s father-in-law standing directly in front of him. Then without any embarrassment at all, he said [to son’s father-in-law]: “Brother, it is not that what you think. It is my epilepsy.”
Anyhow, I was thinking what I was thinking about Viru Roy. Viru Roy was saying: “What a rascal, this Hirańakashipu’s rascal son Pellád, Hirańyakashipu’s rascal son Pellád.”
So, as I was saying, it was towards the end of British rule. As far as we know, in the Vedic age there was a tendency towards alcoholism. Perhaps even certain sages and saints also were also not immune to its influence. There was a great demand for bottles full of wine in the wine-seller’s shop [shaońd́ika(1)]. This influence of the Vedic age continued into the pre-Buddhist period, and, it can be surmised, somewhat increased. During wartime, the king, bureaucrats and landlords of Magadha drank plenty of alcohol. Buddha reined in this behavoiur. He was concerned lest the good taste and refinements of society be washed away by alcohol addiction. Buddha spoke out against alcohol consumption. History shows that it was Buddha who directly opposed the consumption of alcohol in an outspoken manner. Buddha did not turn his attention to social reform. Had he done so, it would have been a very happy combination – sone meṋ sugandh [adding perfume to gold]. Still, owing to the influence of Buddha’s ethical doctrine there was a significant decrease in alcohol addiction, prostitution and gambling in social life. When people from other countries arrived in Sri Lanka for the first time, they were amazed to see the moral standard of the Sri Lankan Buddhist population. There was hardly any alcohol addiction, no visible prostitution and no gambling in their social life. Any rational person is forced to admit the fact that Buddha created an impetus toward morality in the psyche of the people of the world; however, it is not enough to propagate morality in the society. It also requires persons capable of tightly holding the reins of morality and keeping them under control. If there are no restraints in social life then morality flashes and disappears like lightning; it will not last. This is exactly what happened during the Buddhist era. Towards the end of that era, pollution crept into the Buddhist Tantric vámácára and kulácára, complete darkness.
When the Puranic religion (Brahminical religion) arose in the country, it did not make any attempt to stop the flow of alcohol. Royalty drank freely and that had an influence on their subjects. By then the Jain and Buddhist ethical doctrines had become extremely weak. There was not much heard about the impact of alcoholism among emperors during the Pathan era, but there was no effort to control alcoholic addiction in public life. The great souls who appeared in India towards the end of the Pathan era were people of the highest standard, but while none of them supported drinking, some were silent on the subject and others spoke very little about it. No one dealt a heavy blow to the consumption of alcohol. However, all of them strove to keep the society healthy.
Alcohol addiction decreased significantly in public life in ancient Bengal due to the impact of Maháprabhu Caitanyadeva. Even today drinking in the Bengali Vaiśńava community is not only disliked but in fact detasted. Drinking is condemned in the Muslin community on religious grounds. If any Vaiśńava or Muslim is addicted to drinking, then he or she loses all social prestige. It is worth noting that in those places in Bengal where there is a strong Vaiśńava or Muslim influence in social life, raw sugar is prepared from the date palm and palm tree, while in those areas where their influence is non-existence or relatively little the people prepare toddy from these palms.
The first influx of western civilization into India began approximately four hundred years ago. The western social outlook and lifestyle have been both beneficial and harmful for India. No doubt the benefit has been greater. But one of the negative effects is that it has led to an increase in alcohol addiction. Since the time of the Portuguese, different types of liquor have been manufactured and imported. Alcohol has gradually spread into the different strata of social life. Many poor and middle-class families have been washed away in a flood of alcohol, burnt to ashes in the fire of alcohol.
In pre-British India, the city police chief could take action against anyone if they were found inebriated in public, but that system went out of vogue after the Mughal period. Many Mughal emperors and kings were addicted to alcohol. Seeing them alcohol addiction increased among the upper classes. Drinking became a status symbol. This tradition continued during British rule. Rather than decreasing, alcohol addiction has increased after independence – there is no one whatsoever to curb it.
So, as I was saying, it seemed that Viru Roy was in an unnatural state. Viru Ray, I felt Viru Roy draw close to me. He was saying: “What a rascal this Hirańyakashipu’s rascal son Pellád, Hirańyakashipu’s rascal son Pellád.”
I assumed that there was singing and dancing throughout the night in the Sahibs’ club. Viru Roy was the manager of that club. There must have been some dregs left in the bottom of each bottle. Viru Roy must have poured the dregs of a hundred bottles into five bottles and drunk them off. Still I asked him, “O Viruda, who have you found for Hirańyakashipu, and who for Pellád? Oh I know, the sola hat on your head is Pellád. I have been seeing for the last five years that it neither grows nor decays. Pellád came through unscathed in any situation, whether rain or cold, in the forest or the mountains, and was always immune to any kind of decline, and your hat is just like him. If I take you to be Hirańyakashipu, then I have to call your hat Pellád.”
“No, no, no,” he replied, “you don’t know. In my house there is a real-life, flesh and blood Pellád.”
“How so?”
“My own brat, Tuntun Roy.”
“How so?” I asked again.
“This time Tuntun passed his matriculation examination. I have managed to forget that he failed five times. Today Tuntun passed. This pride of victory has made me jubilant.”
“Yes, indeed,” I said. “That’s simply splendid. This is a glittering festive joy, an outpouring of the heart.”
“What eighty-seven generations could not accomplish”, Viru Roy continued, “my rascal son Tuntun has done. Tell me then, in eighty-seven generations in my family no one has passed matriculation, and Tuntun has done it! What could make me prouder? What could make me happier? That is why I say that this rascal is Hirańyakashipu’s son Pellád, Hirańyakashipu’s son Pellád.”
“What arrangements are you making to commemorate this day?”
“I am going to entertain everyone in the neighborhood with laddoos and puris [sweets and fried bread]. So tonight you must return from your walk a little early.”
“I remember something which happened a long time ago,” I told him. “When Nakchedi Roy of our nearby village Milkichowk(2) passed the matriculation exam, his grandfather, Harasita Roy, invited a large number of villagers and entertained them with cuŕá (pressed rice: cuŕá in Hindi, ciŕá, ciŕe in Bengali, cipit́aka in Sanskrit), peŕá [a milk sweet], and yoghurt, as much as they could eat. There was the famous pressed rice of Auṋgadesh’s Jagadishpur, peŕá from Punsia and yoghurt from Gauchárii.”
I happened to ask, rather unpsychologically, “In which division has he passed?”
“I have not enquired about the division,” Viru Roy replied, “but it is likely to be number 111 (III).”
The meaning of the neuter form of the word kutuhala/kutúhala, that is, kutuhalaḿ, is “question” or “inquisitiveness”. Kutuhala/kutúhala + ań = kautuhala, kautúhala.
Kunta
Kunta is derived from kut + ka. Etymologically kunta refers to that which is connected with land.
Kuntala
Kunta + lá + d́a or kańt + alac = kuntala. Whether it is derived from the verbal root lá or from the inflection alac, the la of kuntala must be the initial la. Its etymological meaning is “involved with work connected with the soil” or “that which flutters” or “that which emits a fluttering sound”. Colloquially kuntala is used in several ways.
Yeman teman naiko ámi viirer mata viira,
Ekti háte Rámer dhanu arek háte tiira,
Márle jore kacurpáte ekebáre caocir.
Yeman teman naiko ámi bábur mata bábu,
Ek cumuke kheye pheli sáre tin ser sábu,
Gauṋgá phariḿ dekhle pare amni bhaye kábu.
[I am no ordinary fellow; I am a great hero.
I have the bow of Rama in one hand and an arrow in the
other.
If I strike an arum leaf it is totally torn.
I am no ordinary fellow; I am a great babu.
I drink three and a half seers of sago in one swallow,
But turn grey with fear the moment I see a green
grasshopper.]
Footnotes
(1) Shaońd́ika > shaońd́ia > shaoṋŕia > shuṋŕi. In North India the word kalála is more common.
(2) There was a time when very high quality milk was available in the village in great quantities. The sahibs of our area used to visit this place to buy good milk and eat good yoghurt. They used to say, “The milk in this village is very nice.” Since the sahibs called it “milk”, the name of the village eventually became Milkichowk. Long ago the people of the villages of Auṋgadesha used to give me yoghurt and dry condensed milk which they carried packed in a cloth. Even in those days the yoghurt of that place was so thick; its taste was exquisite and it was mixed with the essence of love.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kuńála
Kuń + alac = kuńála or ku + ńála/nála = kuńála, kunála. The meaning of the root kuń is “to make a halting sound”, “to eat while making a halting sound”, “to move something around”, “to feel pain”, etc. Thus the etymological meaning of the word kuńála is “that which inflicts pain” or “that place which is full of much hardship or troubles when one goes there”.
Ku also means “soil”. Kuńála or kunála means “that tubular stalk which maintains contact with the soil”. So the etymological meaning of kuńála/kunála is that stalk or pipe which is very long and which maintains contact with the soil. Colloquially kuńála or kunála refers to the lotus stalk, another name of which is mrińála/mrinála.
In the history of the Buddhist era, Kuńála, the son of Ashoka, was a venerable gentleman. So one of the meanings of kuńála is the son of Ashoka, he who was the victim of his stepmother Tiśyarakśitá’s jealousy.
Kuńála means “that land which is difficult to cross”, where there is a high, insurmountable mountain range, an impassable mountain belt obstructing the journey. Thus the impassable Kouṋkańa and Malabar coasts were called kuńála. The people of these places were called Kuńáleya. Another name for the narrow strip of land that lies between the mountains and the Arabian Sea, beyond the Pashcimghat mountain range, is Kuntala, and one name for the people of that place is Kuntaláh (the plural form of the word nara).
Kuntha
The meaning of the verbal root kunth (kuth/kuthi) is “to put pressure”, “to inflict pain” or “to spread or scatter some-thing about”. Kunthana, derived by adding the suffix lyut́, means “to strain while evacuating”. Kunth + ka = kuntha.
Kunda
Kund + ka / ac = kunda. The root kund means “to lie in wait” or “to ambush”. The verbal root kund can be used to mean the preparatory process before performing any deed. The etymological meaning of the word kund is “one who is lying in wait”, “one who is lying in ambush”, “one who is preparing to do something”. The colloquial meaning of kunda is:
There are three main varieties of the malliká family of flowers (jasmine, jesminá, jesáminá):
a) Belá. In Bengali it is belphul [Jasminum sambae], in North India beli, and in Urdu motiiyá. In Punjabi the word magrá is more common.
b) Yúthiká (juṋi in Bengali, juṋhi in Urdu).
c) Kunda.
Belphul blooms during spring and summer; its scent is strong and intense. The plant is a bush, neither very high nor very broad. Juṋi blooms during the rainy season and in autumn. Its scent is stronger but less intense than that of belphul. Rather, it is somewhat soothing. The plant is a creeper with white flowers. Kunda blooms in early winter and winter. Its scent is almost non-existent. It is a bush but has very long branches. Its flowers are normally bright white in colour. Rose-coloured and dark brown kundas do exist but they are rare. All these three flowers, bel, juṋi and kunda, have year-round varieties as well.
The kunda flower has been celebrated in Sanskrit literature since ancient times on account of its bright white colour. People with teeth as white as the kunda flower used to be praised as being kundadanta or kundadata – in feminine form, kundadantii or kundadatii. The word kundadatii was very popular. In Bankim’s novel, Viśabrikśa, the name of a woman character is Kundanandinii.
In ancient times the word navaratna was commonly used for the principal nine precious gems.
a) One of them is máńikya (chunii in Bengali, “ruby” in English).
b) Cat’s eye (vaeduryamańii);
c) Coral (prabála in Sanskrit, palá in Bengali, muṋgá in Urdu);
d) Topaz (pokhráj);
e) Pearl (muktá in Bengali, motii in Urdu);
f) Diamond (hiirá/hiire in Bengali, hiirá in Urdu);
g) Sapphire (niilkantamańii in Sanskrit, nillá in Bengali, niilam in Urdu);
h) Zircon (gomeda);
i) Emerald (marakatamańii in Sanskrit, panná in Urdu).
According to a story from the Puranas, these gems are kept in the treasury in the part of heaven where the god of wealth resides. In this treasury there are nine different compartments for the nine precious gems. Whatever gem the god of wealth considers to be the most precious he keeps in the ninth compartment. The name of this ninth compartment is kunda.
Kundana
Kund + lyut́. The etymological meaning of kundana is “one who by nature lies in wait”, or “one who by nature lies in ambush”. One of the colloquial meanings of the word kundana is:
Kundama
Kundama (kunda + má + d́a or kuḿ + dama) also means “tomcat,” kundamá in feminine form. One etymological meaning of the word kundama is “one who is expert at lying in wait”. Another etymological meaning is “one who is difficult to subdue”.
Kundu
Kund + uń = kundu. The etymological meaning is “one whose nature is to lurk”. Suppose there are seven hundred rats in a room. A cat enters the room. The rats immediately know it; they understand the situation. Suddenly, from that very moment, they stop all movement, stop making any noise. Silence reigns in the room. It would be hard for anyone to know that seven hundred rats were lurking. So one colloquial meaning of the word kundu is a rat of any kind, whether a rat or a mouse. In Hindi a rat is called cuhá and a mouse is called cuhiyá. In Bihar the big ones are called muś, the small ones cut́ri. For a woodland rat or field mouse the word ákhu was common in old Sanskrit. In later times the word went almost completely out of use. Múśika or iṋdura refers to all kinds of rodents. Muśá was common in old Bengali. Now it has gone out of use.
Bháńd́árete rákhá chilo páli chaya dhán,
Gańesher muśáte karila jalapán.
[There were six pots of rice in the storehouse, The mouse of Ganesha made a good meal out of them.]
There is a particular community that is known as “Muśáhara” because they eat rats. Generally in Bihar large rats are called muśá and medium-sized rats are called muśa. These words are not used in standard Hindi and Urdu, however.
Kup
The root verb kup is used in many senses. In the form kupyati (kup in present tense) it means “to be angry”, “to be greatly annoyed”. We do not come across its causative form. The root kup in present tense is also kopayati, which means “to shine”. This root verb is like the root verb bhakśa. It becomes kopayayati in the causative form but it is hardly used.
Another form of the root kup in present tense is kumpati, which means “to scatter”, “to spatter”, “to remember”. Another form of this root verb is kumpayati. We do not come across any causative form for it.
Kupáńi
Ku + páńi. The etymological meaning of kupáńi is “one whose hand is bad”, or “one who has a low quality hand”, or “one whose hand is ill-shaped”. The colloquial meaning of the word kupáńi is “antisocial person”, that is, one who does evil actions, who causes innocent people to suffer, or who encourages antisocial activities from behind the scenes.
Kupita
Kup + kta = kupita. Both the etymological meaning as well as the colloquial meaning of kupita is “one who is angry or greatly annoyed”, or “one who has suddenly turned red in anger”. You know that in the Ráŕh region there is normally very little water in ordinary rivers and streams. These rivers are rain-fed or fed by riverbed springs. In general, such springs generally do not normally descend from the mountains. They originate because here and there the underground water levels are high. They generate more water during the rainy season. The water pressure falls during winter. Sometimes during the summer the springs dry up due to lack of water pressure. There are quite a few of these subterranean springs in western Ráŕh.
Streams fed by rainwater flourish and swell whenever there is sudden rainfall near their source. Such a flash flood is called haŕká in Ráŕhii Bengali. While it is true that flash floods last only a few hours, they inflict heavy losses during that time. Small rivers that used to cause this type of heavy damage were given names according to their nature. Today people call the river Káṋsái by the name Kaḿsávatii but in former times people used to call it Káṋsái, which means “butcher”. Since its nature was like that of a butcher it was given the name “Káṋsái”. In Ráŕh the river Kopái in Birbhum District and the river Kupái in Purulia District derive their names from the word kupitá (kupitá > kupiá > kupái/kopái). The name “Álkusi” is used in western Ráŕh for that kind of river in which a flash flood creates sudden havoc. There is a small river Álkusi in Purulia District. There is also a small river called Kupá (kopavatii).
Kupyah
Kup + kyap = kupya. Its etymological meaning is “that which can be easily melted or moulded”. The colloquial meaning of kupya is “cheap and inferior metal”, that is, lead, zinc, tin, copper, bronze, etc. Generally in Sanskrit kupya refers to all metals except for gold and silver. Since dishonest attempts are made to pass these ordinary metals off as gold or silver, they all fall into the category kupya.
Kupyashálá
Kupya + shálá = kupyashálá. Etymologically it means a place where kupya metals are processed. The colloquial meaning of kupyashálá is “smithy”.
Kumára
Kumár + ac. Kumár + ti in present tense = kumárayati, which means “acting in a childlike manner”, “acting like a child”. The etymological meaning of the word kumára is “one who behaves like a child”. The colloquial meanings of kumára are:
Kumáraka
By adding the suffix kan to the root word kumára we get the word kumáraka which means someone who has crossed boyhood and reached the stage of adolescence. There is a controversy among scholars about the age range of adolescence. Moreover it also differs in different countries. In cold countries a person reaches adolescence somewhat latter than one does in tropical countries. But in general, adolescence covers the period from fifteen or sixteen to eighteen or nineteen. Some are of the opinion that adolescence lasts until the growth of one’s wisdom teeth. Boys of this age were called chokrá in the Bengali of yesteryear. They are called chukrá in Hindi – choṋŕá in slang – and, chuṋŕii in feminine form. They are called “lad” in English and “lass” in feminine form. The word kumáraka means a boy of this age.
Kumárii
Kumára+iṋiic = kumárii.
Atasii Aparájitá
Yáte Durgá haraśitá.
[Atasii and aparajitá make Durgá joyful.]
Kumuda
Ku + mud + ka = kumuda. The etymological meaning is “that which has been recognised as small”. Colloquially kumuda means:
Áhá, kii sundara nishi
Candramár udaýa,
Kaomudii ráshite yeno
Dhaota dharátala.
[O, how beautiful is the night, the moon has risen, the earth seems flooded with an abundance of Kaomudii.]
Kumbha
Kumbh + ka/ac = kumbha. The meaning of the root verb ku is “to fill”, “to stuff”, “to fill up”. The etymological meaning of the word kumbha is “that which is filled”. The colloquial meaning of the word kumbha is:
Kumbhi
Kumbh + i = kumbhi. The word kumbhi means “earthen lid”. An earthen pan (used for warming up bread or making pancakes) is also called kumbhi.
Kumbhila
Kumbh + ilac. The etymological meaning of kumbhila is “that which remains full”, or “one who fills”, or “one for whom something is filled”. The word kumbhila has a number of colloquial meanings:
Kumbhika
Kumbh + ikan = kumbhika. Kumbhika means “brothers-in-law”. Suppose there are two sisters. Their husbands are kumbhika to each other. In some places in Bengal such brothers-in-law are called shyáliipatibhái and in some other places they are called sáŕhubhái. Kumbhika also refers to a kind of pancake or the South Indian dhosá. Madhukumbhika means “sweet patty”.
Kumbhii
Kumbh+ii=kumbhii. Kumbhii means ghat́i [metal water-pot].
Kumbhiipáka
Kumbhii + pac + ghaiṋ = kumbhiipáka. According to the Puranas, kumbhiipáka is the name of a type of hell. According to some Puranas the sinner is made to revolve in this hell. Others believe that the sinner is cooked in a hot cauldron in this hell, while still others believe that in this hell the sinner is fried in oil (fried repeatedly like frying anabas fish).
Kumbhiira
Kumbhii+rá+d́a=kumbhiira. The etymological meaning is “that which makes a gulping sound while eating”. The colloquial meaning of kumbhiira is “man-eating crocodile” (Crocodile gangelitis). Among the fish-eating crocodiles, those with long snouts eat in the same way. Hence kumbhiira also means “alligator”. In North India man-eating crocodiles are called magarmaccha. The word is derived from the word makara. At one time this crocodile was found in large numbers in the Ganges, so in the Puranas the mount of the goddess Gauṋga is a crocodile. Thus one name of the goddess Gauṋga is Makaraváhinii. In Bihar, especially in the Auṋga region, this type of crocodile is called boṋchhá. The fish-eating crocodile is also called ghaŕiyál in many places in Bengal and northern India. What is called kumbhiiráshru [crocodile tears] in proper Bengali, is called ghaŕiyalii áṋshu in North India. At one time in Bengal, ghaŕiyál was used as an adjective for clever and skilful people. Even now it is occasionally said: lokt́á khub ghaŕel [that person is extremely clever].
Footnotes
(1) This can be found in the author’s garden in Kolkata.
(2) Shada means raw or cooked vegetables.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kup
Last Sunday I said something about the root verb kup, did I not? Different verbal forms of the root verb kup are used with different meanings. For instance, if ti is added, forming the present tense kupyati, it means “to get angry”. On rare occasions kupyate can also be seen in Sanskrit literature; in other words, the verbal root is used in both types of conjugation. If one says kopayati, it means “that which glitters”. Then its form becomes similar to the root verb bhakś in causative form – kopayayati in causative form. If the verbal root kup changes to kumpati or kumpayati, kumpayayati in the causative, then it means “to spray”, “to sprinkle”, “to remember”, “to retain in one’s memory”, etc.
People attempt to pass off cheap items by copying valuable items, that is, they want to sell cheap goods as expensive goods in the community or in the market. Greedy people want to pass off inferior metals as gold or silver. That is why all relatively cheap metals, excluding gold and silver, are called kupya (kup + kyap). They want to substitute gold tinsel for gold and silver tinsel for silver. So we can call gold tinsel svarńakupya and silver tinsel rajatakupya. In olden times those who practiced idol worship used to make clay or stone ornaments at the time they were making their icons. That is why you find ear ornaments, nose ornaments, head ornaments, hand ornaments, waist ornaments and foot ornaments alongside the icons found from olden times. You will find similar ornaments on many clay images of today. There is a story about a sahib named Dock. He told the artisans of this country in his mispronounced Bengali: “Why are you decorating with clay ornaments? Why don’t you decorate with gold or silver tinsel instead? That will make them all the more beautiful.” From that time onwards many artisans began decorating the images with gold and silver tinsel and other such cheap things. Such types of ornamentation were named d́ák decorations or the d́ák ornaments after Mr. Dock.
Jagatke sájácchen ye má
Diye kato ratna náná,
Tumi sájáte cáyo sei máyere
Diye chár dáker gahaná.
[The Mother who is decorating the earth with so many gems and jewels, you want to decorate her with these rubbish d́ák ornaments!]
Kurat́
Ku + rat́ = kurat́. The meaning of the root verb rat́ is “to spread certain words around” or “to circulate”. Rat́antii means “that woman’s words which are circulated all around” (in a eulogistic or a pejorative sense) or “that woman who circulates words all around” (in a eulogistic or pejorative sense). The etymological meaning of kurat́a is “one whose words are not proper”, “one whose words are uncultured”. The colloquial meaning of kurat́a is “one who sells tanned (cured) leather” or “one who manufactures consumer goods from tanned or cured leather” or “one who gets such things made and sells them”. Most of you must be aware that, as long as the leather is on the body of the animals it is called gátracarma, in English “skin”. When the skin is removed from the body of a dead animal (khál khicná in Urdu, in English “flaying”), then that separated skin is called “raw leather” or “hide”. When this leather is processed or tanned, then it is called cured cámŕa in Bengali, in English “leather”. In olden days these jobs were performed by the people who belonged to the cobbler class. Those who manufactured or got consumer leather goods manufactured and sold them were known as kurat́a.
Kurava
Ku + rava = kurava. The etymological meaning of kurava is “cacophonous or harsh sound.” The colloquial meanings of kurava are:
Kuravaka
Ku + rava + kan. Kuravaka means “raven” because the sound of the raven is very harsh. The heron [vaka] flower is somewhat curved. The heron’s beak is also somewhat crooked, that is, the heron accomplishes its aims by bending its beak somewhat. That is why we derive the word vaka by adding the suffix ac to vak. That flower which is curved or bent is called kuravaka. However, kuravaka does not refer to all vaka flowers, only to the flower that is deep red in colour.
Kurála
Kura + alac (kalac) = kurála. Etymologically kurála means “a speical kind of fast animal”. Colloquially kurála refers to a rare kind of horse (aśva: ash+van) which used to inhabit central Asia and northwest India in olden times. These rare horses were very expensive. They were tall and golden-coloured with dark black legs. These kurála horses are not found in today’s world. Nowadays they are as extinct as the dodo.
The kurála horse was a high-bred species. The sheen of their coat was dazzling. So the aristocratic ladies of those days used to make petticoats of the same colour. Those petticoats were very long; they used to reach to the soles of their feet. The upper part was golden and the lower part, that is, the border, was jet black. After that, in the language of those days, kurála used to mean “petticoat”.
Kurpara
Kur + kvip + para = kurpara. The etymological meaning is “that which helps a person to walk” or “that which must be swung frequently”. The colloquial meanings of kurpara are:
In the same sense kurpara also means a short sleeve vest or t-shirt. In order to make a distinction between a phatuyá [loose cotton waistcoat] and underwear, a phatuyá was also called úrdhva kurpara. You can also use the word úrdhva-kurpara if necessary. However, if there is no possibility of confusing phatuyá and underwear, it is fine to simply use kurpara instead of the compound word úrdhva-kurpara.
Kurpás
Kur + pás. Kurpás means “woman’s blouse”. The Sanskrit word for “bra”, that is, káṋculi in old Bengali, is kurpásaka.
Kurbása
Kur + bása. The etymological meaning is “the garment which makes noise”. The colloquial meanings of kurbása are “jacket”, “sweater”, “pullover”, etc. For the sake of distinction, a jacket or a sleeveless sweater or vest or t-shirt was called kurbása, and a short sleeve sweater or vest or t-shirt was called kurpara or úrdhvakurpara, while a long sleeve sweater or pullover was called kurbásika.
Kuru
Kr + imperative hi = kuru. The etymological meaning is “that which gives directions for work” (present continuous tense). Colloquially kuru refers to:
The inner meaning of the word kurukśetra is “that kśetra or land which always says kuru-kuru-kuru [do, do, do]”; in other words, that supplies inspiration for action. The colloquial meaning of the word kurukśetra is “this battlefield of a world where you cannot rest even for a moment”. You have to work all the time. Whoever does not want to work becomes an outcaste. They lose sight of the purpose of life and are banished beyond the curtain of oblivion.
Kuruvilva
Kuru + vil + van = kuruvilva. The meaning of the root verb vil is “to make a hole”. The etymological meaning of kuruvilva is “that which is pierced”, or “that which can be pierced”, or “metal used after making a hole in it”. Colloquially kuruvilva refers to any of the nine gems, but more specifically the ruby.
Kurumba
Kur + umbac = kurumba. The etymological meaning of kurumba is “that which emits sound when used”. Colloquially kurumba refers to a large type of orange. Another proper name for the orange known as Sylheti orange in the market is kurumba. Similarly, kut́umba [kinsman] is derived by adding the suffix umbac to the verbal root kut́, and hud́umba [puffed rice] by adding it to the verbal root hud́.
Kuruvaka
Kuru + vak + ac = kuruvaka. The meaning of the root vak is “to bend” or “to bend something”. The etymological meaning of the word kuruvaka is “one who is bent” or “one who is on the way to becoming bent”. Colloquially kuruvaka refers to:
Kuruvinda
Kuru + vind + sha. The meaning of the root verb vind is “to get something”, or “to benefit” or “to manifest”. So the etymological meaning of the word kuruvinda is “that which is manifest through action”. For instance, the meaning of the word arabinda or aravinda is “that which is manifest through spokes [ara]”, that is, the wheel. The other meaning of ara is “petal”. So another meaning of the word arabinda is “that which is manifest through petals”, that is, the lotus. Carańáravinda means “lotus-foot”. Go means “organ”. So govinda means jiivátmá [unit consciousness] or Pratyagátmá [supreme consciousness], that is, the one due to whose presence the organs are manifest. Despite a dead body having eyes, ears, and nose, these organs cannot function because there is no consciousness or átman. The meaning of the expression rádhágovinda is “one who worships” and “one who is worshipped”, both the unit being [jiivbháva] and the Supreme Being [shivbháva] who resides near the unit-being. The meaning of the word rádhá is “one who worships” and the meaning of govinda is pratyagátma, that is, “that which is worshipped”. The colloquial meanings of kuruvinda are:
The root verb vind used to be written in old Sanskrit with both the consonantal ba and antahastha va. However, at present antahastha va is used. So the word arabinda must be spelled aravinda in English or Roman Sanskrit.
Kurúpa
Ku + rúpa. The etymological meaning of kurúpa is “bad-looking”, “ugly”.
Kurúpya
Ku + rúp + kyap = kurúpya. The etymological meaning of kurúpya is “inferior quality silver”. The colloquial meaning of kurúpya is “tin”, bauṋga in Sanskrit.
When something spurious is passed off as the genuine article it is also called kurúpya. In this connection I will tell you a story.
I was sitting down flipping through the pages of a newspaper and found myself reading the same news over again. I held out some faint hope that I might come across any new piece of news. But where could any new news come from, I thought? How could any important piece of news surface, when even a small particle could not avoid the censor’s scissors?
Then I ran into our local Sergeant-Major. He was working in the military. It was the year 1942. All employees had had their leave cancelled due to the emergency situation and had been ordered to return to the army. So he also was returning.
The trumpets of the Second World War were sounding then in different corners of the globe. That sound of the kettle drum could also be heard in different parts of India if one paid attention. Part of India had become a battlefield at that time with the Indian National Army crossing the border into India. We used to listen with bated breath to the Indian National Army Radio news broadcasts behind closed doors and windows. The mechanism they had in place for collecting and broadcasting the news was quite efficient. Though we had not yet received any local news of a skirmish that had taken place between the army and the public only an hour earlier a scant twenty miles from the city, we found out about it from the Indian National Army Radio broadcast from Germany. I made enquiries and came to know that the news was entirely correct. The Indian National Army had conquered the Andaman and Nicobar Islands and had, I believe, given them the names Svarája Dviipa [Freedom Island] and Shahiid Dviipa [Martyrs’ Island]. The army had also entered Manipur and hoisted the tricolour flag. The Indian National Army submarines could also be seen off the Indian coast. The situation was grave. India had openly turned into the Kurukśetra of the twentieth century.
A certain judge made our colleagues swear allegiance anew in Bengali to British India. The Indian soldiers could no longer be trusted that much, as if it were a portent of the Sepoy Mutiny in a larger context, a newer terror in public life.
The suffering of the people reached its zenith point. Food, clothes and consumer goods were not only costly but hard to come by. Millions of poor people were dying of starvation, their knees buckling as they fell headlong to the ground. No one had time to shed salty tears over them when seeing their suffering. Such incidents were so frequent; people saw so much of this, that their tears dried up.
The transport system had completely broken down. Cycles and boats had been confiscated in rural Bengal. Buses were running on kerosene. Even that was scarce. People were somehow making their way here and there, crowding on the tops of buses. Regular train service was curtailed, and instead the number of military trains was increased. Soldiers were also crowding into the regular trains. Occasionally for urgent work, people were undergoing great hardship by holding on to the handles of the wagons and hanging like bats in order to travel to their required destination. The suffering was extreme. Such suffering had not been seen even in the battle of Kurukśetra, nor during the battle of Lanka, the Trojan war, nor even the First World War. Everyone is compelled to admit that Gandhijii brought a new consciousness to the public mind, whether one supported his role in India’s freedom struggle or not. Even those in whom this consciousness had not awakened under the influence of Gandhijii were looking for some kind of change to find relief from that unbearable situation. Many people were saying that they wanted change whether it was for the better or for the worse.
On the one hand, all consumer items were hard to come by; the people’s purchasing power had become exhausted. On the other hand, promissory notes valued at millions of rupees were being circulated in the market to help cope with the situation. The small group of people in whose hands a large part of these notes fell became the nouveau riche, their bellies swollen with affluence. On the one hand there were scenes of extreme poverty and scarcity, and on the other the abundance of wealth. As a result, the lives of millions of people were reduced to the level of slaves. The dignity of women was trampled in the dirt due to the economic might of greedy people. Poverty was destroying middle-class families. I was sitting and flipping through the pages of the newspaper during this unbearable situation.
The Sergeant-Major came and stood beside me. I looked at his face and saw wrinkles of worry etched on his forehead.
“What’s happening?” I asked. “Why do you look so pale?”
He hesitated to answer.
“Nobody is free from worries,” I told him. “You, me, we all are affected. There is a new public awareness, yet a large number of unwilling people in this vast country are being driven to war to further the interests of the imperialists. There is a new consciousness in the public mind, popular unrest has gathered momentum, and an explosion is inevitable. Even if the Allies win this war, they can no longer deny India her freedom. If they try to keep her subjugated, they will only be throwing out the baby with the bathwater. To govern the country by driving a steamroller over the bodies of discontented people needs such an investment in manpower and wealth that the remedy will be worse than the disease. The price won’t be worth it. So whether the Allies win or lose the war, imperialism has to quit India. Rather it would be fruitful for them if India was granted her freedom and some secret understanding reached with a few top leaders. In that case India would be reduced to a satellite of the affluent countries. It would supply the raw materials and then buy the finished goods from the factories of those countries. So, willingly or unwillingly, the imperialists have to leave India, and they will try for a peaceful transfer of power.”
Ataeva eso, amrá sandhi kari
Pratyupokáre virodhi svártha sádhi,
Tumi niye calo ámáre lokottare
Tomáre bandhu ámi lokáyate báṋdhi.
[So come, let us have an agreement. Let us mutually further our opposing interests. You lead me to the transcendental sphere, and I will bind you, my friend, to the mundane sphere.]
“There is much to be gained from this furtherance of mutual interests. In this manner, neither Gandhijii’s non-violence movement nor the terrorist movement will win. It will point to the victory of the public mind inspired and overwhelmed by a new consciousness.”
“I do not understand all this,” the Sergeant-Major said.
“Mr. Sergeant-Major, why would you not understand this? These are the lessons of history [itihás]. Do you not turn the pages of history?”
“I don’t understand this history-bistory business,” the Sergeant-Major replied. “There are only two kinds of háṋs among my poultry, the rájaháṋs [swan] and the pátiháṋs [duck].”
“You needn’t study history,” I told him. “Just open your eyes to whatever floats in front of you.”
“Nowadays I often find Shyamal Shasmal of Tamluk by your side,” he asked. “Why is it I don’t see him today?”
“You’ll never see him again. Yesterday he heard the unexpected news through the Indian National Army Radio that a people’s government had been formed in Tamluk. When he heard the news he felt restless for a good while. Then he told me, ́I also cannot remain idle any longer. If I die, please send information to my village home and my dear elder brother.’”
“I stared at him intently. No, this man does not want to be a minister. He does not want to be a historical figure with his name inscribed on a metal casket. He is pure gold. I couldn’t even imagine how I would feel sending the news to his village home.”
“This morning I received the news that he was shot dead by the military while uprooting railway tracks late last night. So you see, Mr. Sergeant-Major, you will never see him again with me. You know, I suppose that after India attains independence the historical accounts of those who have made great contributions (or even negative contributions) to the cause of freedom will be put into metal caskets and buried, in the same way that Emperor Ashoka left his historical accounts on different pillars and inscriptions. There will certainly be nothing of the kind for our Shyamal Shasmal. How many such Shyamal Shasmals have come and gone? Can we afford to think about them? Perhaps only the names of those leaders who were prisoners (not convicts) of the highest class will be written in the caskets of history, while the Shyamal Shasmals will sink into darkness.”
“I came to you for some work,” the Sergeant-Major told me.
“What work would that be, pray tell?”
“Please have a look at the back of my shirt.”
“Yes, I see it. I don’t see anything unusual.”
“Innocent people have been fired on in many of the surrounding villages and many have died. In protest, the government servants of this area have refused to attend work. But I have dedicated my body, mind and soul to the service of imperialism. How can I stay away from my duties? So I set out from home. The local people started hurling abuse and harsh words at me. I didn’t let it upset me, nor did I forget even for a moment that my life was dedicated to the service of imperialist power. It won’t do for me to stop. I have to join my duty.”
“That much I understand,” I told him. “I can see that with my own eyes. But what happened to your back as a result?”
“The young as well as the old people of the area all started spitting at me. I could feel that much of my back became drenched with spit. So I came to show you. Please check and let me know how much of my back is wet.”
“Your shirt is not yet wet,” I told him. “It may become a little wet if you dive in an ocean of spit for the next seven hundred more lives. Come back to me then.”
“You told me that the name of Shyamal Shasmal won’t be remembered by history, nor will it be on the metal casket. So you will record his name in your story. But what is going to happen to me?”
“You will also be one of the protagonists of my story. Your name must be there in the story.”
The Sergeant-Major’s face brightened up.
“From today onwards you are a person of historic importance,” I told him. “I used to know you only as the Sergeant-Major. I cannot understand into what depths your real name has sunk. Would you tell me your real name, just once? Only then can I make a place for you in my story.”
“My name is Akalmand Singh,” the Sergeant replied.
Kula
By adding the suffix ka to kul we get the word kula. The meaning of the root verb kul is “to save money,” “to collect,” “to bring together.” That is why we call “sum total” sákulya and “grand total” sarvasákulya.
We can also derive the word kula by adding the suffixes la and d́a to ku. Kula means “manifestation of solid factor.” So the word kula means “physical expression.” The colloquial meaning of kula is:
Aśt́akulácalah saptasamudrah
Brahma-Purandara-Dinakarah-Rudráh.
Na tvaḿ náhaḿ ná ayaḿ lokah
Vyárthah kimarthaḿ kriyate shokah.
[The eight great mountains and the seven oceans; Brahma, Purandara, the sun and the Rudras; neither I, nor you, nor this world is real; why grieve in vain?]
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kulaka
Kul + kan = kulaka. The etymological meaning is “related to kula”; in a greater or wider sense kulaka is used to mean kula.
The feminine form of kulaka is kulaká/kulakii. Kulaká means “that woman who has been born into a good family” or “that woman who acts as a representative of artists”. A woman who is not kulaká herself but the wife of a kulaka is called kulakii.
There is a controversy over whether or not this láud́agá snake actually bites people, whether or not they are poisonous at all, and whether or not they belong to the snake suborder or the kakt́esiyás order. But many people believe that they are poisonous. They are one among a number of creatures who live or keep themselves alive by camouflage. But they are not chameleons. Nor are they related in any way to the kakt́asiyás [prehistoric reptiles] family creature that we call the chameleon. They are natural camouflage artists, and like other such creatures they camouflage themselves to hunt their prey or to protect themselves from hunters. Lions, giraffes, and several species of deer are also creatures that create natural camouflage. There is a variety of tame deer that survives through natural camouflage. Generally lions, giraffes, and certain types of deer and golden iguana live in larger numbers in the desert areas or in areas where the surrounding natural colours are grey or sandy. Their enemies, their hunters and their prey cannot recognize them because their colour mergeswith the colour of their surroundings. This is called“natural camouflage”. Creating confusion in the mind of the enemy through camouflage has been practiced since ancient times in different armies of different countries by wearing khaki dress and other such colours. The purpose was to camouflage their presence by having the colour of the army dress merge into that of their surroundings. In any case, this láud́agá snake takes full advantage of the opportunity afforded by camouflage.
The mole’s burrow is also called kulaka. One proper name for the mole is kulakeya, in the sense of “kulaka-dweller”, kulakeyii in feminine gender. Do you not call “the mole” that type of firework which runs about hither and thither during the Diipavali [light festival] just like a mole does, making a sharp hissing sound? This mole firework does not stay in a kulaka; it is kept in a box or in one’s pocket. The mole’s hole is called kulaka, but do you know the name of the rat’s hole? It is good that you do. If you do not know, then listen well. The word is kundubil. Kundu means “rat”; bil means “hole” or “opening”. The word bil is used in Hindi and in a few North Indian languages to mean “hole”.
The proper Bengali word for poppy seed is pośita. Its colloquial form posta is derived from pośita. Pośita is spelled with śa, but posta is spelled with sa because the cerebral letter śa and the dental letter ta cannot be conjoined. So it must take sa. If śa is retained then we have to use t́a instead of ta. In that case the word becomes pośt́a, but it is not pronounced pośt́a but rather puś + kta = puśt́a. The word puśt́a, however, is used with a different meaning. In the months of caetra, vaeshákha and jyaeśt́a, jhiuṋge-posta in small quantities is good for health. Jhiuṋge soup with ginger paste (known as kaŕui in certain places) is considered to eliminate food aversion, increase appetite and increase blood circulation.
Jhiuṋge buds blossom together towards the afternoon with mild crackling sounds. So a person whose virtues flourish all of a sudden is praised in conversational Bengali by comparing them to the jhiuṋge flower.
The matter of water gourd crops up in connection with jhiuṋge. The proper name for water gourd is jalatumbii. This water gourd has hardly any beneficial quality; it is mostly just water.
Kusumastavakasyeva dve vrtti tu manasvinah,
Sarveśaḿ murdhańi tiśt́het visrijedathvábane.
[The wise, like flower petals, have two traits; either they stay at the top of everybody or they spread out in forests.]
Kulakka
Ku + lak + kan = kulakka. The etymological meaning of the word kulakka is “to harmonize psychic feelings with worldly expression”. Colloquially it means synchronizing the time of a song with its structure, guessing the period of time by singing a song within a specified time limit.
Kulaghna
Kula + han + d́a = kulaghna. The etymological meaning is “one who has killed the family or lineage”. Colloquially, one whose actions greatly harm their family, community or mankind, and who are thus forced to endure the pain ofthat humiliation, is called kulaghna. A fifth columnist or a person engaged in a work of sabotage may also be called kulaghna.
Kulaja
Kula + jan + d́a = kulaja. The etymological meaning is “one who has been born into a good family”. The colloquial meaning of kulaja is:
Kulapati
In ancient times students used to study in the residences of their teachers during the period of their education. After the child had attained a certain level of knowledge, intelligence and sense, their guardian used to take him to the house of the teacher and leave him there. He used to be educated in the school attached to the teacher’s residence up to the age of twenty-four. Arrangements were made for free housing, food and clothes. The student used to return home at the age of twenty-four after receiving a certificate. Many intelligent students were able to complete their studies before the age of twenty-four and returned to their own homes in their own countries with their certificates.
In those days, the places in India which were recognized as famous centres of learning included Kancipuram (people mispronounce it as Kanchibharam), southern Mathura (Madurai), Trichur, Udiipii, Puńyanagrii (the holy city) or Pune, Ujjayinii, Avantiká, Bhrgukaccha (Bharoch), Shrishaelam (Salem), Vishakhapattanam, Vidisha, Shivapuri, Taxila (Takśashilá), Varáhamúlá (Baramula), Jullunder, Kányakubja (Kanauja), Vit́hura (Vrśńipura), Prayága, Kashii, Uruvilva (Gaya), Sauráth (Mithila), Madhuvanii (Mithila), Banagráma (Mithila), Maheshii (Mithila – the village of famous scholar Mańd́ana Mishra), Vispii (Visarpii – the birthplace of the poet Vidyapati Thakura), Bhagadattapura/Bhárgavapura (Bhagalapur– Auṋgadesh), Kalhangrám (Kahalgaon –Auṋgadesh), Jayanagara, Janakapura (Nepal), Kanthiká or Contai (Midnapore), Tamralipta, Burdwan, Ekacakrá (Birbhum), Indrahása (Birbhum), Indrahása (Bankura), Kantakiipura (Katwa – Burdwan), Navadwip, Káliná (Kalna–Burdwan), Vaḿishavát́iká (Banshberia), Dvaravasinii, Janai (Hooghly), Páńduká or Peṋŕo (Howrah), Jagaddala (24 Parganas), Vilvapuśkarińii (Nadia), Paṋcastúpii or Páiṋcathupii (Murshidabad), Phullashrii/Gaelá (Bakhargunje), Kot́álipáŕá (Faridpur), Vikramapura (Dacca), Kálikaccha (a District of British Tripura – the district headquarters, or karvat́a, was Comilla), Shrihat́t́a (Sylhet), Shonitapura (Prágjyotiśpura – Assam), Bhat́t́apalli or Bhatpaŕa, Kumárahat́t́a or Halishahar, Darshaná (Nadiá – at present in Kusthia), Jagatii (Nadia – at present in Kusthia), Shrikhanda (Burdwan), and so on. The guardians felt proud to send their wards to such places for their education.
Generally the lecturers or assistant lecturers would teach, teaching were controlled by the professors, the professors’ work was looked after by the acáryas, and the acáryas were assisted in their work by upácáryas. The meaning of the word ácárya is ácarańát pát́hayati ya sa ácárya, “one who teaches through ones conduct”. In other words, the ácárya must teach and have conduct worthy of respect. Only then will the education they imparted have a strong base and be assimilated.
Those who were in charge of those centers of learning, whether big or small, were not rich themselves. Their wealth or capital was the scholarship they had acquired through tireless endeavour. The public, rich people and royalty used to help them with monetary and other kinds of assistance. This was given unconditionally, that is, there were no pre-conditions imposed on them to sing the praises of the kings in return. These centres were not the supporters, carriers or promoters of any “ism”. Their only work was to spread the streams of knowledge and wisdom far and wide, independent of any external interference.
The scholarship of the heads of the centres of learning or mahávidyálaya (college or residential university: a large centre of learning in which every branch of knowledge was taught) was renowned far and wide. People used to pay them more respect than they would to royalty. Even the king used to stand up from his throne when he saw them. Those among these pundits or great scholars who used to arrange for free food, clothing, lodging and education for ten thousand students in an educational institution were called kulapati. I find nowadays that in certain regions of northern India the chancellor of a university is called kulapati and the vice-chancellor is called upakulapati. (In earlier times a university was called a gurukula. The word vishvavidyálaya is quite recent. It is the literal translation of the word “university”). This creates a certain semantic confusion regarding these words because a chancellor does not make arrangements for free food, clothing, lodging and education for thousands of students. However, if somebody has done this or does so in the future, then they will certainly be categorized as kulapati. In Bengali the chancellor is erroneously called ácárya and the vice-chancellor upácárya. This is also a misuse of the words. The ácáryas and upácáryas are neither teaching nor serving as examples of conduct. The words used for this should be prajiṋádhiipaka or vidyádhiipaka.
So I hope that you have correctly understood the meaning of the word kulapati.
Kulashreśt́ha
Kulácárya
Kula + ácárya.
At one time in Mithila the genealogists exerted a great influence among the Maethila Brahman and Maithila Kayastha (Maethilakarańa) communities. Brides and bridegrooms were generally chosen in a large mango garden called Saorát́ha near Madhuvanii. The Saorát́ha fairgrounds were called Sabhágáchi. There the guardians would come with the prospective brides and bridegrooms, or sometimes without them, and finalize the choice of bride and bridegroom and the date and time of marriage with the help of these genealogists. Sabhágáchi still exists but the Saorát́ha fair is no longer very important. These genealogists had the main role in this Sabhágáchi. This Sabhagáchi of Saorát́ha had more influence among the Maethila Brahmans than among the Maethila Kayasthas (whose surnames were Karańa-Kayastha Kańt́ha, Láladása, Datta, Sharańa, Mallika, etc.). The genealogists are one of the four main branches of the Maethila Brahmans. The three other branches are Shrotriya, Yoga and Jáyavára. The word kulácárya has been used from ancient times for these genealogists or matchmakers.
Kulát́a
Kula + at́a or kula + áta. The etymological meaning of kulát́a is “that which roams near the kula or shore”. The colloquial meaning of kulát́a is “prawn.”
Kulát́a + kan = kulát́aka. Kulát́aka means “large prawn”.
Kulát́a refers to all kinds of crusaceans – mud-prawn, small prawn, lobster, and crayfish of all varieties. But kulát́aka refers to the lobster, crayfish, and the reddish sea prawn of the southern Sundarabans. The word kulát́aka can also be used for the huge “monster prawn” which is found in certain places in the sea.
Kulála
Kula + alac/álac (kalac/kálac). Kulála means:
The intense kulála consciousness that stimulated and churned public opinion on the eve of Indian Independence was the result of the kaolálika role [exceptionally brilliant role] of Subhash Bose in the political arena. The day has come for those who want to remain neutral in matters of judgment to ponder the issue carefully. I can say, without showing the slightest disrespect to the Indian leaders of those days, they not only lacked social and revolutionary consciousness but also a clear vision of a well-defined and sound economic structure. They wanted to irritate the British by swaying public opinion in various ways and then reap the harvest of Indian freedom, like cutting a crop gently with a sickle and storing it in a granary. “Kill the snake but do not break the stick.” Those who think that the policy of non-violence is no policy at all, that it is merely the political strategy of people with no other alternative, should remember that the mental attitude of the leaders of those days was not the result of having no other alternatives. With the help of the influence they had over the people, they could have tried to gain independence by vigorously stirring the collective consciousness.
No one can deny that Mahatma Gandhi aroused the consciousness of the public, but he could not direct that awakened consciousness to the path of struggle. It can be said that the uniqueness of their policies centered around a kind of negativism and lack of struggle. The excellence of Subhash Bose was of a different kind. He wanted to capture freedom by exploiting the situation, or in plainer language, overpowering and stunning the opposition by adopting a policy of “strike while the iron is hot”. Herein lies the qualitative difference between him and other leaders of that time.
Although simplicity and straightforwardness was not completely lacking in the so-called creed of non-violence of Gandhism, it was somewhat absent. Gandhi’s followers were perhaps not as simple as he was in his personal life; as a result this kulálatva difference [qualitative difference of leadership] became more pronounced in the public eye. The Congress chairman was called the President of the State in those days. Was this not rather ludicrous? There was no state; how could there be a state president? If there is no head then how can there be a crown on that head? The contest between Subhash Bose and Pattabhi Sitaramaiya for the Congress party chairmanship was a contest of this kulálatva.
Gandhiji was a simple man. So when Subhash Bose won and Sitaramaiya was defeated in that contest, he said openly, “Sitaramiya’s defeat is my defeat.” Subhash Bose never allowed this difference in kulálatva with Gandhiji to become personal, nor did Gandhiji. But some ambitious Congress leaders did just that. And their spewing of venom, as well as use of the chains of non-violence, at the personal level, were two of the many reasons for Subhash Bose’s emigration. Those who used to call Subhash Bose a traitor or a misguided patriot based on mere superficial knowledge, without any deep understanding of politics, or being goaded by different kinds of motives, had perhaps lost sight of one fact. If Britain, France and the United States could dine together with Russia in order to protect their countries’ freedom, despite being poles apart in economic outlook, then what serious fault did Subhash Bose commit when he sought the help from the Axis powers (Germany, Japan and Italy) in the cause of a country having no military strength and aspiring for freedom? Actually the war was between two imperialist as well as expansionist forces. Neither of the parties was pure and holy. Whichever side Subhash Bose had joined for the cause of freedom of the country, his opponents would have certainly condemned him. Those who call the working plan or ideology of Subhash Bose “Subhashism” are mistaken. There is no such “ism” as “Subhashism”. Subhash Bose wanted freedom for the country and he wanted it very strongly. So he took the role of a pragmatist and an opportunist. If some have condemned him for this, then it has to be understood that they wanted success the easiest way possible without suffering any scratches themselves in their political life.
If the Allied forces (Britain, France, America and Russia) condemn Subhash Bose for political or social reasons of their own, or punish Tojo declaring him to be a war criminal, would it be proper for an Indian at that time to join chorus with them to oppose Subhash Bose, in spite of his being an embodiment of kulála [ideal leaders]? The fact of the matter is that a person’s thinking becomes clouded if there is a marked difference between them and someone else in respect to kulálatva. With their clouded thinking they muddy the waters of social life, hardly a sign of elevated thinking. This kind of mentality is diametrically opposed to clear thinking and is the worst result of geo-sentiment. Anyhow, I hope you have properly understood the meaning and idea of the word kulála in this context.
Kuláya
Kula + ay a + ac = kuláya. The etymological meaning of kuláya is “to run towards kula or family”. The colloquial meanings of kuláya are:
Mára ár dhara ámi pithe bendhechi kulo,
Baka ár jhaka ámi káńe diyechi tulo.
–Bharatchandra
[You may hit me and hold me captive, but I have tied a winnowing tray to my back. You may rebuke me, but I will continue to turn a deaf ear.]
The word shúrpa has been used in the sense of “winnowing tray” since ancient times. In the Rámáyańa the name of Ravana’s sister is Shurpanakha. In other words, one whose nails (nakha) are as large as a shúrpa or winnowing tray is Shurpanakha. According to grammar, if there is ra, r or sa in the first word, then na is used in the following word, not ńa; however the word shúrpańakhá is an exception. Examples of this exception are ayańa, ahńa, úhińii, grámiińa and shúrpańakhá.
Kulmáśa
Kul + kvip + maś + ghaiṋ = kulmáśa.
Kulira/Kuliira
Kuli + rá + d́a or kulii + rá + d́a. Both spellings, kulira and kuliira, are correct.
Kulisha
Kuli + shii + d́a = kulisha. The word kulisha is generally used in two senses .
Kuliina
Kul + iin = kuliina. The etymological meaning of kuliina is “one who is established in kula”, or “theory connected with kula”.
If three lineages remain kuliina (the mother’s, one’s own and the father-in-law’s), it is known as naekaśya kuliina [pure kuliina]. If the three lineages are not kuliina, but if every daughter has been married to a kuliina, it is called normal kuliina or natural kuliina. If a daughter marries into a non-kuliina family, it is called broken kuliina – bhauṋga kuliina, káp kuliina or shuddha maolik. If this continues for seven generations they are called shrotriiya or ordinary maolika. If shrotriiyas or ordinary maolikas have no marital relations with shrotriiyas or ordinary maolikas, then they become known as pure shrotriiyas or pure maolikas. Otherwise they are known after seventh generation as Vaḿshaja Brahmans or Kayasthas ( váuṋsh bámun or váuṋsh káyet – “non-kuliina of defective lineage”). In the case of Brahmans, in the absence of a royal directive if their link with their original settlement is lost, then they lose their kuliina status. For instance, a resident of the village Bandyoghatii in Ráŕh (the person’s name was Guro Bandyopadhyaya) who started living in the Másacát́aka area of Bhuluyá, that is, Noakhali, lost their kuliina status and became shrotriiya, that is, their surname became Másacaŕaka, which became transformed into Másacát́aka/Másacáŕaka/Cakravartii.
How advantageous this kuliina system was, it is difficult to say. But its main disadvantage was that these kuliinas were often forced to marry their daughters to a man with many wives in order to preserve their kuliina status. Often they were compelled to marry their underage daughter to an old man with many wives. Quite often their daughter had to remain unmarried all her life. On the other side the disadvantage was that while individual kuliinas had many marriages (Ram Chandra Mukhopadhyaya of the village of Janai married one hundred sixty-five times), the shrotriiya or non-kuliina men could not find brides. Many men had to remain bachelors. As a result, while on one hand the number of kuliinas increased by leaps and bounds, the shrotriiya families were on the verge of extinction. Consequently all sorts of improper behaviour was seen in society. Unmarried daughters of kuliina families and unmarried men from shrotriiya families created social problems. Finding no way out, society had to close its eyes to such improper conduct. Such a state of affairs cannot bode well for any community.
As a result of this faulty kuliina system the number of Banerjees, Mukherjees and Chatterjees in the Bengali Brahman community increased like wildfire, while the number of Másacáŕakas, Kusháriis, Bat́abyals, Káṋijláls, Pákŕáháshis, Pálodhis, Patitundis, Diirgháuṋgiis, and Gaŕhgaŕhis, etc. decreased almost to the verge of extinction. The Ghoshas (Dash Ghośa), Vasus and Mitras of the Bengali Kayasthas increased in large numbers, while the number of pure maolika – Sena, Siḿha, Deva, Dutta, Kara, Guha, Das and Palita decreased considerably. The normal maolikas such as the Sura, Pal, Niyogi, Rudra, Dhar, Brahma, Bhaiṋjas, Damas, Naha, Raha, Aikat, Aica, Chandra, Cáki, Nandi, etc., nearly reached the point of extinction.
The situation reached such a critical stage during the Pathan era in Bengal when the Nawab was Hussain Shah. Hussain Shah found the situation alarming. He consulted his prime minister Purandar Khan(1) and attempted to change the system. Purandar Khan held a large meeting with the kuliina Kayasthas and changed the kuliina system from a system of lineage through the daughter to a system of lineage through the eldest son. That is, a kuliina Kayastha would be able to give his daughter in marriage to any kuliina or pure maolika or ordinary maolika bridegroom. He would be able to arrange the marriage of his other sons to any such family.But the firstborn son would have to be married to a kuliina Kayastha. In other words, a Kayastha with the surname Ghosh would be obligated to marry their firstborn son to someone in a Basu or Mitra family, but they would be at liberty to arrange the marriage of their other sons and daughters with any family. This both preserved the kuliina system in the Kayastha community and also prevented the degeneration of their scholarly genius.
The Nawab and Purandar Khan attempted to arrange such a meeting with the Brahmans as well, but they did not agree to their proposal. As a result, the kuliina system among the Brahmans continued to be passed on through the daughters. In later times it was discovered that there were hardly any kuliinas left among the Brahmans. Anyhow, some Brahmans and some Kayasthas continued to be called kuliina in accordance with the kuliina system introduced by Ballal Sena among the Brahmans and Kayasthas of Bengal.
Kulottha
Kula + ut – sthá + d́a = kulottha. Its etymological meaning is “that which has risen in family status”. The colloquial meanings of kulottha are:
Kulottha [Dolichos biflorus] is a very ancient variety of pulse. Although it is somewhat substandard in quality, its use is quite widespread among the common people. Since it is not properly boiled even after a long time, people fry it and make it into a powder that they mix with rice. Kulottha powder has a strange smell. One meaning of the word kulottha in feminine gender (kulotthá) is “blue stone”. The other meaning is a grain of the millet family that is used as an alternative to wheat.
Kulotthaka is derived by adding the suffix kan; it means a pearl with a slightly reddish tint. Its second meaning is mándára [Atrocarpus lakoocha Roxb] (also called d́yáphala in certain regions). The third meaning is a grain of the millet family that is used as an alternative to wheat.
Footnotes
(1) He was a resident of Kuliinagrama near Jaogram railway station in the Jamalpur police station of Burdwan district. His original name was Gopiinatha Vasu. Purandar Khan was the name given by the Nawab. Subhash Chandra Bose was his descendant. Maladhar Basu, brother of this Gopiinatha Basu, translated the Bhagavata scripture into Bengali. The Nawab was pleased; he bestowed on him feudal status and gave him the name Guńarája Khan. The Nawab gave the title Srikrishna Vijaya to the Bengali translation of the Bhagavata.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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Kulya
Kul + yat = kulya. The meaning of the root verb kul is “to amass”, “to collect”. The etymological meaning of the word kulya is “that which has been collected” or “that which has taken shape after being amassed”.
The colloquial meanings of kulya are:
You know that there is a place and a railway station near Krishnanagar in Nadia District by the name Bádkulyá. The word is derived from baddhakulyá, that is, once there was a kulyá there but later, when its mouth became choked, it became a blocked canal (baddhakulyá). Bádhkulyá is a corruption of baddhakulyá. Dha is an aspirate, so using its non-aspirate, the word Bádkulyá can function as a Sanskrit derivative, but it cannot be spelled with llá [it will be lyá as in Bádkulya].
In certain places the bed of the Damodara has already become higher than the basin of Burdwan district, and in certain places it is becoming higher. In this situation, if there is a large outflow of water from the Damodara at some point, then undoubtedly the districts of Burdwan, Hooghly and Howrah will be flooded. In this situation an effective measure would be to remove sand and silt from the bed of the Damodara with a dredger and thereby make the river basin much deeper than the adjacent land. If this is not done in order to avoid the expense, then a high embankment must be raised alongside the Damodara. This is not only to save the left bank of the Damodara but also for the safety of the right bank. Otherwise floods may occur at any time in those parts of the districts of Burdwan, Hooghly and Howrah which are situated on the right bank of the Damodara, especially in the subdivision of Arambagha. This special type of dam on the bank of the Damodara is also a dyke.
In Holland, it is difficult to save the country from ocean flooding by deepening the ocean, so there is no choice but to construct high dykes. Having seen those dykes personally, I have often thought that this type of dyke is also necessary in certain areas of the subdivisions of Contai and Diamond Harbour in Bengal.
We can also have windmills here as they do in Holland since the ocean wave-driven wind in these coastal areas is stronger than ordinary wind. It is also possible to arrange for production of cheap electricity from those windmills, as it is from the ocean flood tide. At one time these windmills played a very important role in the industrial development of Holland. If constructed they will serve the same purpose in the districts of Midnapur and 24 Paraganas as well.
The bed of our river Ajaya has gradually become higher owing to the deposit of silt. The proportion of sand in the soil has greatly increased in certain areas in the Ajaya River basin in southern Birbhum. However, it is still possible to cultivate sandy soil crops such as winter bulbous crops and sugar cane. If there is any further delay then that opportunity may cease to exist. In that case arable land would have to be cut out by using machinery to remove the surface sand. Although that situation has not yet arisen in the southern portion of the Ajaya River in Burdwan District, its bed is higher than its own tributary, the Kunur. As a result, instead of the water of the Kunur entering the Ajaya (this entry is natural), sometimes the water of the Ajaya enters the Kunur. This is not a desirable state of affairs. This problem cannot be solved only with dykes.
In addition to what we understand by báṋdh or embankment, the word is also used in Ráŕhii Bengali in the sense of a large reservoir. The terrain in Ráŕh, especially western Ráŕh, is uneven. Rainfall is also scarce, although the land is very good for the cultivation of pre-winter rice. But other crops do not grow well. However those areas where the land is a little yellowish are all suitable for the cultivation of mustard. Be that as it may, the scarcity of water is a permanent problem in western Ráŕh. For this reason, in ancient times the kings of Ráŕh used to provide for the excavation of large reservoirs. These reservoirs were not only deep, they were also capable of holding the water of the rainy season because they were surrounded by high banks. If there was a scarcity of water during the sowing of paddy or when the grain emerged, then the banks of the reservoir would be broken to irrigate the land and thus save the paddy. These large reservoirs are called báṋdhs in Ráŕhii Bengali because they are dug primarily to store water for irrigation. Among these water reservoirs in Bengal are Daŕábáṋdha of Dumka, Rájbáṋdha of Burdwan, Samudrabáṋdha, Bhagaldighi and Ráńibáṋdha of Bankura, Sarashuṋká of Midnapur and Sáhebbáṋdh of Purulia. These báṋdhs should be called reservoirs in English, not embankments. Samudrabáṋdha in Bankura District is perhaps the largest such reservoir in the world. A small river called the Amodara, a tributary of the Damodara, also emerges from this reservoir.
In a river development project, the embankment that is constructed at the end of the hill-stage of a river submerges a vast area and a large quantity of water is dammed at that place. This system of storing water by blocking the mouth of a river is also called báṋdh, in English “dam”. Apart from the dam, in the downstream part of the river, where the plain stage starts at the end of the hill stage, the embankment which is constructed at that spot by blocking the mouth of the river without flooding the adjoining land is called a “barrage”. This may be called jalabandha or kabandha in Bengali. So you understand that a jalabandha or báṋdh or dam is constructed at the upstream portion of a river and a barrage at the beginning of the plain stage.
Generally every river has three stages: the hill stage, plain stage and delta stage. Certain rivers of the world become extremely salty when they reach the delta stage. In that case an embankment or a dyke must be built in order to save the adjoining paddy lands from the damaging effects of the salt water. Such dykes or embankments need to be erected along certain rivers of south 24 Parganas. In former times the Rasulpur River and the downstream portion of the Suvarńarekhá in Midnapur had this problem. It should be investigated to see whether or not that problem still exists.
Not only humans but many other creatures as well are more or less familiar with medicines. However, since ancient times many non-human creatures have considered fasting or deliberate abstinence from food as their natural medicine. You will notice that dogs and certain other animals abstain from eating if they feel a little ill. You also often do not feel like eating when you feel somewhat physically out of sorts. Some contemporary physicians advise their patients, and even pressure them, to eat even when they do not have any appetite. This, however, goes against the laws of nature. It is natural for a sick creature to feel an aversion for food, unless they suffer from the disease of overeating. By not eating, certain organs of the body enjoy a temporary rest. As a result, after the fast the organs are rejuvenated and reenergized and a feeling of wellbeing returns to the physical body. So not only in the case of prehistoric humans, in the case of the prehistoric animals as well, the ancient, pure and chief medicine was fasting or voluntary abstention from food.
There is a basic distinction between voluntary abstention from food and upavása. Voluntary abstention from food (svecchá-anashana) means to not take food willingly in order to keeping the body healthy (an + ashana = anashana). Ashana means “eating”, so anashana means “not eating”. This abstention from food certainly helps to heal disease. However, imposed abstention from food does not have the same effect because forced abstention creates a suppressed agony in the mind which upsets the mental balance and at the same time also upsets the physical balance.
Upavása is undoubtedly a kind of voluntary abstention. However, at the same time there is to some extent a withdrawal of physical activity and a gradual directing of ones mental propensities towards closer proximity with Parama Puruśa. Upa means “near” and vása means “to stay”. Thus the etymological meaning of the word upavása is “to remain near the Lord”.
So as I was saying, upavása not only has the benefits of voluntary abstention from food. In addition, this practice is especially helpful for maintaining mental balance, that is, upavása is a medicine for both physical as well as mental maladies. There is no doubt whatsoever that a person’s mental strength is reinforced if he or she observes fast in a systematic fashion. This is a truth that has stood the test of time.
Sunlight and air: There are many healing elements in sunlight. The rays or pencils of rays of different colours in sunlight are medicines for different kinds of diseases – preventive and antidotal. Sunlight has different benefits during different hours of the day. Sun-warmed water also has different kinds of benefits. Thus sunlight has been regarded since ancient times as medicines for different bodily ailments. It is also said in the Vedas: súryah yathá sarvalokasya cakśuh [as the sun is the eye of the entire universe]. The medicine, that is, sunlight should be taken in through the dorsal spine, not through the chest or the abdomen.
The pure air (O3) of a secluded place is also an excellent medicine for the physical body. This medicine in the form of air should be taken through the back of the head and the upper part of the forehead. The earth from a riverside area near a forest in which there is a small amount of sand and a large amount of soil is also an excellent medicine for the physical body. This medicine should be taken bare-bodied on a bed of earth.
Water: Odorless, tepid water, especially if it is sun-warmed, is an excellent medicine for the physical body. It has great healing qualities. Since ancient times, knowingly or unknowingly, human beings and different animals have also accepted water as one of their medicines. It is also said in the Vedas: ápashca vishvabheśajii [and water is a universal medicine].
However the quest for medicines on the part of human beings and animals has not been limited to fasting, sunlight, water, air and earth. Initially the medicines that human beings discovered were different trees and plants and the external use of their bark and roots. The human beings of those times used to chew them and smear or rub the diseased part with them. These ointments were the first medicines discovered by human beings. When these ointments did not work externally, it became necessary to ingest them. Humans used to take them as medicine by chewing or swallowing them. This was the second step in the use of medicines in human history.
There were many such medicines that were only available in particular seasons, not all year round. People used to gather them in the specific season and dry them so as to preserve them. In certain places they would preserve them in the form of tablets with the help of water; in other places they would just dry them normally. This preservation of medicine in the form of tablets or pills belonged to a later stage in the use of medicines in human life.
Where medicines were not effective as external ointments, it became necessary to rub them on the skin or on the nerves where they could be absorbed through the pores. People discovered these rubbing medicines somewhat later. These massage or rubbing ointments were the discovery of a later stage.
Where there was any poisonous effect of the rubbing ointment, there was no recourse but to use it externally. However, people learned to use them without any poisonous effect in the form of liquid medicines by dissolving them in water or other liquid solvents.
There are certain ointments which, if ingested in small doses, have no poisonous effect, but which may have a poisonous effect if taken in large doses. Human beings learned to use them by licking them so that they could act effectively through the nerve fibres. They used to swallow those medicines after licking them with the tongue for a long time. Because the quantity is very small there is no harmful effect; rather one gets the full benefit. Such medicines are called avaleha [licking] in Ayurveda.
People even discovered some medicines that develop certain special beneficial qualities when mixed with other specific substances. In other words, the same medicine when mixed with substance “a” became a medicine for headaches, when mixed with substance “b” became a medicine for diarrhea, and when mixed with substance “c” became a medicine for respiratory ailments. In this case, people gave the name anupána [ingredient] to the substances “a,” “b” and “c”. That is, by discovering that the medicinal qualities varied according to the different anupánas, people began to use them as medicines.
Through their experience, people found that in certain diseases the patient’s vitality diminishes. In these cases, the medicines are effective when they have some alcoholic properties; so they fermented them to prepare different kinds of remedies. These medicines, which are prepared through fermentation, are called medicinal ásava (“elixirs”– ásava means alcohol, for example, wine). In cases where the alcoholic properties of the medicines were necessary, but where the medicine would have a contrary effect if the negative effects of the alcohol were not removed, they altered their qualities rather than keep them in the form of ásava. They gave the name “medicinal ariśt́a” to such medicines; for example, drákśáriśt́a, dasamuláriśt́a.
It was found in the case of certain medicinal herbs and plants that if they were boiled in water and their essences extracted, then their medicinal qualities were greater than in their raw state. This essence is called kváth; for example, catechu kváth, ashvagandhá kváth and various others. People began to use these kváthas as medicines. The kvátha that is produced by boiling different medicinal herbs and plants together is generally known as páṋcan in Bengali.
Medicines that are excessively bitter or insipid, where possible, were cooked and mixed together with rice or any other principal food item, thus discovering a newer method of taking medicines(1). In this way people started deriving medicinal benefits from neem leaves, bitter gourd, pat́ol latá, gandhiká, and such medicines by consuming them with their principal food, such as with rice in Bengal.
Moonlight is not a medicine like sunlight is. Rather moonlight often overwhelms the mind with a different kind of emotion. However, the qualities of medicinal herbs and plants are affected according to the difference in moonlight, that is, in accordance with the lunar day and lunar fortnight. So there are rules for removing medicinal plants from the soil, preparation of medicines and their uses in accordance with the lunar day. The medicinal qualities undergo changes during the different periods of the day, so one should use medicines with that factor in mind; at least it is better if it is done so. Those medicinal herbs and plants or those medicines whose qualities are affected according to the difference in lunar day or planetary position are called kulyá. So you see, this also is a meaning of the word kulyá.
Not only have human beings used plant substances for medicines since ancient times, they have also prepared medicines extensively from animals. In the Ayurvedic, Vaidyaka and Unani systems of medicine, animal substances, such as the livers of different animals and partridge fat, were used extensively. Who is not familiar with the medicine prepared from the body of a goat and oil from the hornbill? Medicines used to be prepared from the livers, pancreases, etc., of different animals in the allopathic system of treatment. In recent times they have been used for insulin. Cod liver oil and shark oil are frequently used. They are used not only as oral medicines but also in injections. Medicines such as naja, cina, and apis in homeopathy are completely of animal origin. Killing an animal in order to save the life of a human being may not be a very good practice, but it can be done when there is no alternative. This is a universally accepted principle. But when medicines are prepared by killing animals, it should be done as far as possible from those animals which are the born enemies of human beings. Those who are not the born enemies of human beings but are their natural friends should not be killed.
Different kinds of metals and non-metals have been used for medicinal purposes since ancient times. Gold, silver, tin and mercury especially have been used since ancient times for medicinal purposes. The famous Ayurvedic medicine makaradhvaja is prepared from a combination of mercury and sulphide. There is no dearth of medicines produced from calcium in homeopathy, allopathy, Unani, Ayurveda, whatever system it may be. Medicines produced from the conch shell, which have generated excitement since ancient times, are actually nothing but calcium phosphate, calcium carbonate and calcium hydroxide.
The value of the principle shama samaḿ shamayati [similia similibus curantue – “like cures like”)] has been understood by human beings since the age of the Mahábhárata, but it was Mahatma Hahnemann who brought it to the scientific level through his system of homeopathy. People realized the value of this principle during the Mahábhárata age from the poison treatment of the poisoned Bhiima. There were considerable advances in Ayurveda in poison research, especially with snake, scorpion, spider and hornet poisons. Within Ayurveda, members of the royal family of Cochin in the state of Kerala were pioneers in this. At one time there was a good deal of individual research into poison treatments. My maternal grandfather, the late Dr. U. M. Basu (allopath) conducted research into the medicinal use of scorpion poison, but he died before his research findings could be properly documented. The science of allopathy does not seem to have made much progress in these treatments, but there are endless opportunities for making progress in this respect.
Nowadays, in those cases where there is difficulty getting the desired effect by swallowing the medicine or ingesting it in some other way, or where the effect is delayed, the system of introducing the medicine into the body through injection is widely prevalent. If anything is injected into the body through a needle it is called súcikábharańa. Súcikábharańa existed in Ayurveda in ancient times to a small extent, but this science could not advance much in those days, chiefly due to the influence of certain superstitions among the people at that time. They did not want to allow anything into their bodies through injection, so this science remained unappreciated. Nowadays it is possible to save the patient’s life with injections in the case of diseases that are difficult to cure or treat, or in the case of life-threatening disease. Thankfully, modern practitioners of Ayurveda and Homeopathy, willingly or unwillingly, have accepted the use of needles and themselves use them.
Now let us return to the matter of kulyá. Those medicines that need to be kept dry, but which are difficult to make into tablets, were preserved as powders. Medicines preserved as powders are called cúrńa in Ayurveda, for example, bháskara salt cúrńa, gámbharii múla cúrńa, gud́ucii sharkará cúrńa. Medicine preserved in powder form is also called kulyá.
a) Kulyam refers to any complete bone of the body that is unbroken. If one feels pain in any bone, one can freely say, “I feel pain in this kulya or kulyam”. But if it is not possible to specify a particular bone, then the word kulya or kulyam cannot be used.
b) If one feels pain in some tissue, if the face and throat are swollen, if a gland is swollen, then under these circumstances one specifies the area and says that in this area my flesh hurts or is swollen. This specified part of the body can also be called kulyam in neuter form.
c) You exchange pleasantries with someone, whom you meet after a long time, do not you? For instance: “How are you? What are you doing now? Now that the winter has set in, how are your grandmother’s asthma attacks?” The word kulya is used in neuter form for this exchange of news.
d) You are walking along the road. All of a sudden a young boy runs up to you and greets you saying: “Dada, my examination results are out. I stood first in the First Class in Economics.” Then you say, “Goodness gracious! You are such a young boy and no less than a first in First Class! You make our neighborhood proud! I’m so happy to hear it. Here, let me get you something to eat. Then you can attend to whatever business you have.” This expression of how happy you feel for him on receiving the good news is called “offering your congratulations” in English. The word kulya in neuter form can be used for this.
e) The kind of language you use when you offer consolation to somebody who has received some sad or painful news is also called kulya in neuter form.
Kuva
Kú + ac = kuva. The etymological meaning of kuva is “the state of lowering down”. Colloquially kuva refers to the lotus, the water lily and other aquatic flowers, but in the specific sense the word kuva is used for the water lily. If you wish, you can use the word kuva for the lotus.
It is good to remember in this connection that kava (ku + ac) means all kinds of flowers grown on land, for example, the Arabian jasmine, jasmine, rose, tube rose, magnolia, china rose, etc. For instance, if you want to say, “there are all kinds of terrestrial and aquatic flowers in the garden”, then you can easily say, “there are all kinds of kava and kuva in the garden”.
Kubauṋga
Ku + bauṋga = kubauṋga. Bauṋga means “tin”, what looks like silver but is not silver. What is inferior to silver (rúpo) we call kurúpya. Kurúpya means “tin” (bauṋga). Similarly kubauṋga means that which looks like tin or bauṋga but is inferior to tin or bauṋga. Kubaunga means “lead”.
Kuvacaka
Ku + vac + kan = kuvacaka. The etymological meaning of kuvacaka is “one who speaks of earth, who speaks of ore, who sings songs of darkness inside the mine, through their glitter, in an expression of glamour”; the colloquial meaning of kuvacaka is “quartz”, the thick, heavy crystal which is found in a mine. In ancient times people often used quartz as an alternative to diamond. Although quartz is not very costly, it is valued mainly for two reasons: first, it is a naturally transparent, thick crystal and second, this quartz is relatively rare in the world. This rare mineral substance is found in some quantity in the districts of Purulia and Bankura in Bengal. This kuvacaka or quartz was used for ornamentation in ancient times. Jewelers used to make necklaces for women after cutting it into convenient sizes and increasing its glitter and luminosity. The appreciation of this necklace spread from India to outside India near the end of the Gupta era. Generally it was called mańihára in the spoken language. Ei mańihára ámár náhi sáje [“This mańihára does not suit me” – Tagore].
Another meaning of the word kuvacaka is “mountainous tribe”, those who speak a non-Sanskrit language. It used to be said about a mountainous tribe of a particular country:
Sarve máḿsaratá muŕháh mleccháh go brahma ghátaká,
Kuvacakah pare muŕhá ete kut́ayonayah,
Teśáḿ paeshácikii bháśá lokácáro na vidyate.
[They are all addicted to meat, foolish, non-Hindus, and killers of cows and Brahmins. They speak a non-Sanskrit language, these foolish people of low birth. Their demonic language and conduct are not to be found anywhere else.]
Kuvra
Ku + vraj + d́a = kuvra. In the spelling of this word, both vargiiya ba and antahstha va have been used since ancient times. The meaning of the root verb vraja is “to walk happily”. Ku means “defectively”. So the etymological meaning of the word kuvra is “one who walks happily but defectively”. Just imagine there is a beautifully designed garden with beautiful trees whose flowers and fruits and branches are swaying in the gentle breeze. It looks very pleasing. You may say that since the branches are swaying beautifully you want to use the root verb vraja for this. But is there not a defect in this movement, this vibration of the trees? They are rooted to the ground, bound to the earth. The trees cannot move any more than this; so despite being bound to the earth they are expressing as much joy as they possibly can. That is, there is a defect in the expression of their joy owing to their inability to move. So the colloquial meaning of the word kuvra is “forest” or “tree” or “timber”
Kuvala
Ku + val + ac = kuvala. The meaning of the root verb val is “to cover”. The etymological meaning of kuvala is “one who covers defectively”, that is, who cannot cover properly.
Kuvalaya
Ku + val + kayan = Kuvalaya. The etymological meaning of kuvalaya is “that which covers improperly”.
Kon ajáná desher niila sáyare
Phut́echilo ek kamalinii.
[There bloomed a kamalinii in the blue sea of some strange land.]
Kamalinii means “cluster of lotuses”. So the expression “one kamalinii” is incorrect. Likewise, the expression “one kuvalayinii” is also incorrect.
According to the Tantras there is an upward-facing kuvalaya in a particular hand of the goddess known as Bhaeravii Shakti.
Kuvinda
Ku + vind + sha = kuvinda. The etymological meaning of kuvinda is “one who has manifested earthly wealth by dressing and arranging it.” Colloquially kuvinda refers to all weavers who are experts in spinning as well as weaving clothes. In ancient India it was generally the women who used to spin; they were called kát́uni. Very fine thread was spun during the rainy season months because fine thread did not tear easily at that time due to the wet climate. The women also spun the famous Dacca muslin thread during the rainy season months. The weavers used to pay them for this thread and then weave with it. These weavers, who were not only experts in spinning this fine thread but also in weaving cloth, had a special place in society because this thread of Bengal was appreciated throughout the world. Cloth made from this fine thread has even been found in the pyramids of Egypt. Arab merchants exported this fine thread cloth to Europe and it became known as “muslin” throughout the world. There were three centres of muslin cloth industry in Bengal: Dacca, Murshidabad and Bankura. This muslin not only spread the fame of Bengal’s cloth industry everywhere; it was also a source of income. It is for this that kuvinda became so famous.
Kuveńii
Ku + veń + ac + ii = kuveńii. The meaning of the root verb veń is “to move about”; thus the etymological meaning of the word kuveńii is “that which moves about awkwardly”, or “that which moves about while attached to the ground”. You may perhaps know that we derive the word veńu by adding the suffix uń to veń. Veńu means “bamboo”, because even with a little wind a bamboo grove makes a creaking sound.
Once upon a time some fishwives went to the Sheoraphuli market to sell their fish. They were a little late coming back from the market after selling their fish and on their way to Bahirkhand. It was going to be late night before they arrived; so when they passed through Singur they went to the zamindar’s mansion and requested the gatekeeper, “O gatekeeper, we would be grateful to you if you would allow us to pass the night in the flower garden of the honourable zamindar.”(2)
The gatekeeper noticed that they were women. Where could they go at night? The gatekeeper gave them permission. The fishwives went to the flower garden and lay down. But could their poor eyes even close at all? They turned to one side and smelled the wafting fragrance of the tuberose and that sweet smell of the tuberose drove away their sleep. They turned to the other side only to smell the fragrance of the night jasmine and the fragrance of the night jasmine also drove away their pleasant slumber. They lay down on their backs and the soothing fragrance of the bakula flowers [Mimusops elengi] floated by. Sleep fled away with outspread wings to the distant sky. The fishwives were in a terrible quandary. Who could sleep in this feast of fragrance!
The fishwives discussed among themselves. “What a fine fix we are in. Come, let us talk to the gatekeeper again. Perhaps he can find a solution for us. It is almost one in the morning. We need to solve this one way or another.”
The fishwives met the gatekeeper near the gate and made an appeal to him. “Mr. gatekeeper, when you have been so kind to us already, why don’t you allow us to bring our fish baskets inside?”
“If you want to take them inside, then do so,” the gatekeeper told them. “But how does it look, taking a fish basket inside a flower garden! That is why I did not allow you to bring them in earlier.”
The fishwives happily brought their baskets into the garden. They lay down in the midst of the roses with their baskets under their heads, and the smell of the baskets counteracted the fragrance of the roses. The fishwives enjoyed a comfortable sleep for the whole night with their áṋsh-cubŕis under their heads. The moral of the story is that it is difficult for a person to give up the prejudices they cherish. A person’s dogma is the same type of thing.
Kuvela
Ku + vel + ac = kuvela. The meaning of the root verb vel is “to shake”, “to tremble”. The etymological meaning of kuvela is “one who goes away without saying or speaking anything”. The colloquial meanings of kuvela are:
Footnotes
(1) By mixing vapid medicines with mohanbhoga (a kind of wheat porridge-like preparation with boiled milk) of corn-flour (suji), the hakims, during the Mughal period, used a sweet preparation called halva (this is mispronounced in Bengali as háluá).
(2) Zamindars were appointed by the Mughal rulers to collect taxes from the peasants.
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Shabda Cayaniká Part 5 | |
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ÁTMÁ, ÁTMAN. Soul, consciousness, PURUŚA, pure cognition. The átman of the Cosmos is PARAMÁTMAN, and that of the unit is the jiivátman.
ATHARVAVEDA. The last Veda, composed approximately 3000 years ago, older than the Jain scriptures.
ANGIKA, AUṊGIKÁ. A language of the eastern demi-Mágadhii group (Bengali, Oriya, etc.) spoken in Bhagalpur, Purnia and some other areas of Bihar.
AUṊGADESH. Literally "Auṋga" means "part " of Mahábhárata kingdom which status was given to Karńa in order to elevate him from the humiliating position of illegitimate birth. A portion of North Bihar area where Auṋgiká is the people’s language.
ÁYURVEDA. The Vedic system of medicine.
BHOJPURI. A language of the western demi-Mágadhii group Magahii, Chattisgarhii, etc. spoken in Arrah, Sasaram, Chapra, etc., Districts of Bihar and in eastern Uttar Pradesh districts.
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.
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.
DIGAMBAR JAIN DARSHAN. A Jain sect; ascetics believing in this sect preferred to remain "without cloth" (digambar).
GAUṊGOTTARII. The place where the River Ganges originates.
GUŃA. Binding factor or principle; attribute; quality.
GURU. Gu means "darkness", ru means "dispeller"; hence "dispeller of darkness"; spiritual master.
KAŃÁDA. Maharśi Kańáda brought about a great revolution in the world of thought. Apart from his famous cause and effect theory, he also invented the atomic theory. Thus he was both a philosopher and scientist.
He belonged to Gándhárbhúmi (present-day Afghanistan).
KAYASTHA. A high caste in India, a sub-group (along with Brahmans and Vaedyas) of the Vipra caste.
KIIRTANA. Collective singing of the name of the Lord, combined with instrumental music and with a dance that expresses the spirit of surrender.
KRŚŃA, SHRII KRŚŃA. Literally, "the entity which attracts everything of the universe towards its own self", Parama Puruśa. A great Tantric guru, the historical Krśńa of about 1500 BC; second Táraka Brahama or Mahásambhúti.
KŚATRIYA. Written as kśatriya, a person whose mentality is to dominate over matter, a member of the warrior social class; written as Kśatriya, a member of the second-highest caste in India.
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.
KURUKŚETRA. Literally a field always saying "Kuru, kuru", "Do something, do something;" hence the world, the entire universe; the place where the Mahábhárata war was fought; a town near Delhi.
MAHÁBHÁRATA. "Great India"; the name of a military campaign guided by Lord Krśńa around 1500 BCE to unify India; the epic poem written by Maharshi Vyasa about this campaign.
MAGADH. Literally, "land of anti-Vedics". An ancient land, along the northern bank of River Shone, which Aryans could not enter initially. Presently the Magadh area comprises of certain South Bihar districts such as Patna, Gaya and Aurangabad.
MÁGADHII PRÁKRTA. Spoken language of eastern India. It has two branches: Eastern Demi-Mágadhii with six daughter languages such as Bengali and Angika and western Demi-Mágadhii with four daughter languages such as Magahi and Bhojpuri.
MAHÁKAOLA. A Tantric guru who can raise not only his own kuńd́alinii, but those of others also; in Buddhist Tantra, Mahákaola is sometimes symbolic of PARAMA PURUŚA.
MAHARASTRIAN PRÁKRTA. Spoken language of southwestern India evolved from Sanskrit.
MANTRA. A sound or collection of sounds which, when meditated upon, will lead to spiritual liberation. A mantra is incantative, pulsative, and ideative.
MÁYÁ. Creative Principle, PRAKRTI in Her phase of creation. One aspect of Máyá is the power to cause the illusion that the finite created objects are the ultimate truth.
MITHILA. An ancient land established in the Vedic period named after King Mithi who ruled and sanctified this kingdom, presently comprising districts such as Saharsa and Darbhanga of North Bihar.
MUGHAL PERIOD. The period of Indian history from 1526 to 1707.
NÁGPURII. The language of the Western Demi-Mágadhii group spoken in Ranchi, Lohardaga, etc., of Jharkhand State.
NIRGUŃA BRAHMA. BRAHMA unaffected by the GUŃAS; Non-Qualified Brahma.
PATHAN PERIOD. The period of Indian history from 1193 to 1526.
PANDAVAS. The five sons of king Pandu, the dharmic forces in the Mahábhárata war.
PARAMA PURUŚA. Supreme Consciousness.
PARAMÁTMÁ, PARAMÁTMAN. Supreme Consciousness in the role of witness of His own macropsychic conation. Paramátman comprises: (1) Puruśttama, the Macrocosmic Nucleus; (2) Puruśottama’s association with all creation in His extroversial movement (prota yoga); and (3) Puruśottama’s association with each unit creation individually (ota yoga) and (4) with all collectively (prota yoga) in His introversial movement.
PÁRVATII. The colloquial version of "Parvata Kanyá" – "Daughter of the Mountains"; one of the three wives of Sadáshiva.
PRAKRTI, PARAMÁ PRAKRTI. Cosmic Operative Principle. The Cosmic Operative Principle is composed of sattvaguńa, the sentient principle; rajoguńa, the mutative principle; and tamoguńa, the static principle.
PRÁKRTA. Seven spoken languages that developed from Sanskrit.
PRATISAIṊCARA. In the Cosmic Cycle, the step-by-step introversion and subtilization of consciousness from the state of solid matter to the Nucleus Consciousness. (Prati means "counter" and saiṋcara means "movement".)
PRATYAGÁTMÁ. PARAMA PURUŚA in the sense "That which takes a stance opposite to the jiivátmá and witnesses the jiivátmá".
purana, PURÁŃA. Mythological story with a moral import; educative fiction.
PURANIC AGE. The medieval period, about 500-1300 CE, when Hinduism was dominated by the PURÁŃAS.
QUINQUELEMENTAL. Composed of the ethereal, aerial, luminous, liquid and solid factors, or elements.
RAJAH, RAJOGUŃA. See PRAKRTI.
RÁŕH. The territory, mostly in West Bengal, stretching from the west bank of the Bhagirathi River to the Parasnath Hills.
RÁMÁYAŃA. An epic poem of India. It is the story of King Rama, or Ramchandra.
SADHANA. Literally, "sustained effort"; spiritual practice; meditation.
SAIṊCARA. In the Cosmic Cycle, the step-by-step extroversion and crudification of consciousness from the Nucleus Consciousness to the state of solid matter. (Saiṋcara literally means "movement".)
SÁḿKHYA. The oldest school of philosophy, first propounded by Maharshi Kapila. The word sáḿkhya means "that which is related to saḿkhyá, or numerals".
SAḿSKÁRA. Mental reactive momentum, potential mental reaction.
SANSKRIT. SAḿSKRTA. The classical language of India. It first emerged during the Post-Shiva period, and as a spoken language it began to be supplanted by Prákrta prior to the Krśńa period. Although not a spoken language today except in very limited circumstances, it is still important for its vast literature, especially spiritual literature. Sanskrit and English are the languages of the world that have the richest vocabularies. Sanskrit pronunciation was perfected by non-Aryan Tantics in such a way that each of the fifty letters of the Sanskrit alphabet constitutes one acoustic root of Tantra.
SATTVAGUŃA. See PRAKRTI.
SATYALOKA. Literally, "Abode of Truth"; highest layer of mind; supramental state of witess-ship.
SHAKTI. PRAKRTI; energy; a deification of Prakrti.
SHÁKTA. Worshpper of Shakti cult.
SHANKARACARYA. One of the greatest philosopher of India 1300 years ago, born at Kaladi of South India. He is famous for his commentaries on the classical Upanishads, the Bhagvat Giita and the Brahma Sútra of Badaryan on which he based the doctrine of pure monism.
shashanka, shashauṋka. King of Gaoŕa, i.e., Bengal, before 606 CE. He formed Gaoŕa into a vast kingdom.
SHVETÁMBARA JAENa DARSHANA. A Jain sect who prefer to remain in white dress.
SHIVA. A great Tantric guru of 5000 BCE who guided society while His mind was absorbed in Consciousness; hence, Infinite Consciousness, PURUŚA.
SHAEVA. Shaivite; pertaining to the Shiva Cult or Religion.
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.
SUŚUMNÁ. The Psycho-spiritual channel within the spinal column through which the kulakuŃD́alinIi rises during meditation.
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 weaknesses. Also, a scripture expounding that tradition.
TAMOGUŃA. See PRAKRTI.
TATTVA. A category of existence; a reality; the existence of the essential root entity hidden within every entity.
UPANISHAD, UPANIŚAD. Literally, "that which brings one near"; certain philosophical sections of the Vedas.
VAEŚŃAVA. Vaishnavitei; 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.
VIŚŃU. Literally, "entity which pervades each and every thing;" All-Pervading Entity; Preserving Entity; a mythological god.