Ancient Ráŕh, the mother of gems and jewels, was composed of mountain ranges surrounded by oceans. Those ranges at one time resonated with storms and tempests, rain and thunderbolts. There were no human beings, nor were there any other living beings. Even shrubs and creepers were not to be seen. Except for Parama Puruśa [Supreme Consciousness], there was no one to witness the exquisite beauty of Ráŕh. The mountains having become pulverized under the process of constant erosion, in between those mountains plains, valleys and plateaus began to come up. The rivers carried that silt and sand onwards. Those eroded mountains became the red soil that we see today. The eastern part of Ráŕh, and Samatat were formed out of the silt and sand from the mountains, carried by the rivers. And many crores of years later, the rivers of Ráŕh were instrumental in forming even more of this new soil. That new soil is today’s Samatat and Vauṋga-D́abák. Enticed by the smell of the rain-drenched dry earth (the earth had been created by the rivers), the people of Ráŕh wended their way to the east, towards that new soil, with axes, hoes and ploughs. Hence the soil [mát́i] is not merely mát́i for the people of Ráŕh – it is má-t́i, má-go [“the mother”, “O mother”].

At a time when eastern Ráŕh was non-existent, Bagri [Samatat] and D́abák were inconceivable. The present-day mounds in the wavy soil of western Ráŕh are the decaying summits of the old mountains, and the bottoms of the slopes, and the small rivers and the rivulets, are other names for the last remaining parts of the valleys.

Much later the Aryans, moving from the north-west region towards the east and having crossed the plains of the Brahmaputra and the Gauṋgá, finally reached the borders of Ráŕh and came to a sudden halt. In the Ráŕh of that time the crests of the undulating topography [the mounds] were covered with forests, while the troughs [the bottoms of the slopes] were sites of human habitation. It was for this kind of topography that the land was named Birbhumi or Birbhum in the Austric language. The word biir in Austric means “forest”. Instead of using the Austric name Birbhum, the Aryans gave it a new name, Varjyabhúmi, which meant “a land in which Aryans should not live” – a land which the Aryans should reject. It is said that the people of Ráŕh at that time were not prepared to welcome the Aryans, and that instead of welcoming them, the inhabitants of Ráŕh set their pet lions and wolves on them. So the question remains, why did the Aryans call the land Varjyabhúmi – because of Ráŕh’s uncongenial geographical environment, or for fear of the wolves?

Whichever it may be, let us come to another topic. The searing summer heat of this tropical region, and the whirlwinds of red dust, spurred the inhabitants of Ráŕh to break the bondages of this limited world and to run in the direction of limitlessness. And at the very sight of the natural landscape of Ráŕh, tears welled up in their hearts, and their entire beings quivered, for the great unknown entity. This longing in their hearts made the people of Ráŕh mystical. What is mysticism? Mysticism is the never-ending endeavour to find out a link between finite and infinite. So the people of Ráŕh are all mystical by birth. When they look up at the boundless sky, their inner self becomes eloquent in this way:

Uŕiche tomár dhvajá megharandhracyuta tapaner jvaladarcirekhá;
Karojoŕe ceye áchi úrdhvamukhe – paŕite jáni na, kii táháte lekhá.

[Your banner is flying like a beam of sunlight flashing through the clouds.
I am looking with upturned face and folded hands – but I cannot read what is written there.]

The fervour, and the ardour deep in their minds, for the infinite, stirred them to the point of bátulatá [madness]. And this bátulatá gave birth to the Bául Márga [Path of Baul], Baul music and the Baul ideology. Baul music is always characterized by a single tune, a single resonated impact. Hence a Baul song is played on one string – on an ektárá [“single-stringed” instrument].

Ek mane tor ektárát́i
Ekt́i sure bendhe rákhis.

[Tune your ektárá single-mindedly
To a single melody.]

This is the first and the last word of Baul.

If the subject of Baul is delved into, it will be found that on the one side, there is a typical dark-coloured Ráŕhii man with an ektárá in his hand, and on the other side, there is his life and soul [the Supreme], whom he has loved, though he has not seen.

Yáke ná dekhe’ nám shuńe káńe
Man giye táy lipta hála
Bhávt́i bheve paráń gela.

[My mind mingles in Him
Whom I have not seen, but whose name has reached my ears.
Thinking of Him, I die.]

Later, it was in this Ráŕh that kiirtana⁽¹⁾ came into being. Kiirtana drew its impetus from Baul. The development of the rhythmic movement of the human mind in quest of the Supreme Entity is what is called kiirtana. Though kiirtana is prevalent in India and many other countries, the distinguishing feature of the kiirtana of Ráŕh is that it is chiefly, if not entirely, based on Baul. It more concerns sweet devotional ideation on Parama Puruśa than descriptions of His hands, feet, eyes, nose and face.

Sai kevá shuńáila Shyám nám
Káńer bhitar diyá marme pashila go
Ákul karila mor práń.

[O friend, who uttered the name of Shyám?⁽²⁾
Through my ears it enters into my depths,
Made restless my heart.]

In the hands of Jaydev, Chandidas, etc., who were deep-dyed poets of the soil of Ráŕh, this kiirtana became vibrated with a new resonated impact. When, long after them, Mahaprabhu entered deep into Ráŕh and came in touch with the unique wealth of Baul and kiirtana, he said to all, of his own accord:

Ráŕhii sure Ráŕhii bole
Ráŕhii ákhare kiirtana kariba.

[To the tunes of Ráŕh and in the speech of Ráŕh
And with the words of Ráŕh, I shall sing kiirtana.]

Footnotes

(1) Collective singing of the name of the Lord, sometimes combined with a dance that expresses the spirit of surrender, is known as kiirtana. Some types of kiirtana may involve descriptions of the features of the Lord. –Trans.

(2) Krśńa. –Trans.