Úk/Uk

The suffix úk/uk is used for any particular action, object or thought that is desired. For example, icchuk [desirous] or bhávuk [contemplative]. In olden times this suffix was written with a long ú. In the middle ages both were current. In modern Sanskrit short u is used in all but one or two cases. For example, in olden times the popular word for “owl” was úlúka. In subsequent times both uluka and úlúka were common in Sanskrit, side by side. In this matter it would be better to maintain a uniform standard in Bengali. Since úlúka was used in older spellings what would be the harm if this spelling remained?

Úcca/Ucca

Út + ca = úcca. Ut + ca = ucca. The etymological meaning of úcca is “ascending”, “having upward motion”; its colloquial meaning is “high”. Úcca + lá + d́a = úccala. Here the verbal root lá is used to mean “to hold”, that is, úccala means “one who holds up high”. From úccala comes the medieval Bengali ucala just as the medieval Bengali ujala comes from újjvala.⁽¹⁾ Ucala baliyá acale caŕinu paŕinu agádha jale [“I climbed up a hill thinking it to be very high but unfortunately I plunged into bottomless water”].

Út/Ut

The prefix ut used to be pronounced with a long vowel sound in olden times. After the invention of script it gradually lost its long sound and became transformed into a short vowel. Those versed in the Rgveda are well aware of this fact.

Úta/Uta

The verbal root vein means “to weave”. For example, “to weave cloth”. Vein + kta gives us the word úta which means “that which is woven”. The Sanskrit for “woven cloth” is úta karpat́a.

In ancient society, men and women had equal rights. Later, when some distinguished women such as Gargii, Maetreyii and others excelled their male counterparts in intellect, learning, humanity and power of contemplation, a group of male conspirators started curtailing their rights one after another in order to engender an inferiority complex in their minds. In the varnáshrama [caste] system, women and Shúdras as groups were segregated. That was a dark chapter in human history indeed. Human beings conspired against their fellow humans to deprive them of their legitimate human rights. It can be said that the seeds of exploitation, imperialism and colonialism were sown at that time.

Long before that, weaving was done mostly by women because the capacity to care for minute detail which is so essential for handiwork is found more in women than men. Even today weaving is done by women in many parts of the world. Obviously, when women became segregated, then weaving, too, as a hobby or profession came to be considered inferior. All this happened due to the conspiracies of a few men. Usually people indulge in such acts to revenge themselves on others.

This phrase, “revenge oneself”, reminds me of a story – the story of how King Ballal Sen revenged himself on the Suvarna Vanik [merchants] of Bengal.

The royal treasury of Bengal was controlled by a handful of wealthy merchants. Their principal centre was Suvarnagram. King Ballal Sen was given to much pomp and luxury and was a man of lecherous nature. His son, Laksman Sen, was extremely unhappy with his father. King Ballal Sen often demanded more and more funds from the treasury. Since it was the king’s order, the merchants could not object. But later, when the economy was being terribly affected and still the king did not keep his promises to return the funds, they spoke to Prince Laksman Sen. Through him they conveyed to the king that if he continued to draw funds from the royal treasury, the country’s economy would meet with disaster. King Ballal Sen was enraged by the merchants’ wise advice. He vindictively retaliated and declared the whole community of Suvarna Vaniks – well-educated, intelligent and talented men – as outcastes. Thus he revenged himself against them.

In the same way, a section of selfish men curtailed women’s rights and hatched a conspiracy against women and Shúdras to keep them downtrodden and under their feet forever. From that time another meaning of úta became “movement towards hell”, “ending up in hell”. So just as one meaning of úta is “that cloth which is woven”, its second meaning is “one who is inclined towards hell”, “one who has gone to hell”, or “the lowest level of hell” which is known as raorava or rasátala.

Útámrtatvasyesháno yadannenádhirohati

–Rgveda

[He is the controller of immortality. He has assumed the quinquelemental form for supplying food to the finite beings.]

The word úta is also used in some places in the Rgveda to mean “infernal” or “infernal creature”, but, of course, that usage is limited to a few cases.

Speaking of úta reminds me of something that happened long ago. At that time I used to go and sit nearly every evening on the highest peak of the hills east of my town. I may have told a few people how I met Vireshavijay Vasumallik while sitting on the top of that peak. After sitting alone on the top of the hill for some time I would return home about nine o’clock. I used to climb down from the hills not long after the sun had gone down behind them.

On this day, however, I was a little late coming down from the hills. By the time I reached the bottom it had grown completely dark in all directions. After sunset, a little light would still remain at the top, though it would be completely dark at the bottom of the hills. That day it had become quite dark even in the hilltops so when I reached the bottom it was pitch black. Not only was it a dark night but there was a blackout on in town at that time.

This was towards the end of British rule; the Second World War was in full swing, with the fiercest fighting in Europe and Southeast Asia. Most of Southeast Asia was then under the control of the Japanese. Japan had conquered Burma and the Indian National Army under the command of Subhas Chandra Bose had taken possession of the Andaman and Nicobar islands. Subhas Bose had given them new names. The Indian National Army had entered by then into Manipur (Imphal) by land and the war had reached its final stage, the stage in which one already knew what its outcome would be.

The defence of India was chiefly the responsibility of the British and American armies. They were fighting with tremendous determination and firmness, defying all obstacles. Indeed, their mental toughness at that time was quite praiseworthy, no doubt about it.

The coastal areas of Bengal were fortified so that Bengal could not be invaded either by land from Burma or by sea from the Andamans. Bengal’s clocks were also moved ahead one hour from Indian Standard Time for work convenience. The submarines of the Indian National Army were spotted from time to time off the coast of Orissa. Most of the cycles and boats were removed from the Bengal coast so that the enemy would not be able to make use of them. Although this created difficulties for the common people it was necessary for defence purposes. Bombs were falling on Calcutta and in several other places in Bengal.

Despite the strong fortifications of the coastal area, the Indian National Army was making hectic preparations to wrest control of the coastal areas of Chittagong, Noakhali, and Bakharganj. The INA had nearly surrounded Kutubdia, Sandip and Khulna District’s Sharankhola. That was the military situation of the country.

Blackouts were in force from city to city. In most places there were careful preparations taken against air attacks. Naturally, moving on the roads after dark had become extremely troublesome, so people used to finish work quite early and go home and close their doors and windows. Yes, even the windows had to be shut, otherwise the light from inside the houses would leak out into the streets and make it easy for the enemy to locate the site. People would be back home by dark and crowd together in one room to listen secretly to the radio news about the Indian National Army. Those who didn’t have a radio in their house would go to the house of someone who did, making for quite a crowd, but it wasn’t considered proper to hear the news in this way.

In my town there was a daily blackout. Low-power bulbs had been fitted in the street lights and the lamp covers had been painted black so that the light would not be diffused very far.

Yes, as I was saying, on that day I came down from the hills rather late and started heading for the city. On the way was a huge banyan tree which at that time was extremely tall. Later, the large head of the tree was cut down to make it easier for planes to land. At any rate, I had to pass the banyan tree on my return. On my little finger I was wearing a solid gold ring which had been loose for the past few days. As I was passing the banyan tree the ring slipped off my finger. I couldn’t use a torch to find it because first, it was prohibited and secondly, it would bring the military people rushing to the spot when they saw the torchlight in the distance. Apart from that, I was one of the people responsible for the arrangements against air attacks. Why should I break the rules just to save a ring? So I searched the ground with my hands for some time and then started walking home again.

After I had taken a few steps I noticed a gigantic creature climbing down from the huge head of that enormous banyan tree. His face didn’t look like a man’s but rather more like a forest gorilla. The fellow approached quite close to me. Although he wasn’t touching me, I felt all the while as if he was, and this annoyed me. After walking for a little while, the man started talking to me in Angika. “You are quite angry with me, aren’t you?” he said.

“No, I am not angry,” I replied. “But I am feeling somewhat uneasy. Why are you walking so close to me? You could keep a little distance.”

“No, no. Whether or not you get angry, I cannot let you walk completely alone tonight. For one night I will bear your anger; I am doing so and I will continue to do so.”

What could I do? I kept my mouth closed and kept on walking. The man continued talking. “You are telling yourself that I am certainly not a man. True enough. One cannot think of me as a man. But still, what can I be other than a man? Rather, you should think of me as your shadow. Shadows are very long, aren’t they?”

I didn’t like it, but there was a logic to what he was saying, so I kept quiet and listened as I walked.

“You are thinking that such a stout face cannot belong to a man. True indeed, but oftentimes a shadow becomes quite stout. Isn’t it so? Perhaps you are asking yourself why I am so jet-black. Are fair-complexioned people’s shadows also fair? Milk’s shadow is as dark as a new-moon night. Whatever the case may be, I am walking with you and I will continue to do so. I simply will not let you walk alone, especially tonight.”

“Such a bizarre entity like yourself – I cannot call you a man, nor can I call you a shadow or a ghost, so I call you an entity – what will people think if they see me walking with such a huge entity?”

The fellow kept silent for a while and then said: “You are researching the Vedas, studying the Vedas. Today you were explaining the word úta. Úta means ‘that which is woven’ or ‘that whose movement is towards hell’. Úta means ‘a creature of hell’. What is the problem if you let that creature of hell that you were talking about walk beside you for a little while? I will not let you go now, not even for a moment.”

Those days there was a blackout nearly every night. Here and there around the city were trenches dug for the people to take shelter in case of air attack. Some of these trenches were very deep. Suddenly, while walking along the road, my left leg fell into one of those deep trenches and my right leg became twisted. Just as I was falling headlong into the ditch in unbearable pain, that huge entity caught me and pulled me out. Then he said: “The bone of your right leg has become dislocated. It must be extremely painful. The reason I was walking so close to you was so that you wouldn’t fall into any danger; otherwise I would never have been so impertinent or ungentlemanly as to walk so close to you. Yet it is my great misfortune that despite having done so, your leg has still been injured. Anyhow, I cannot let you walk any further. You are in my care now; I will carry you to your house on my shoulders. No objections now! You are not able to walk properly, and I can’t let any more troubles be added to those you already have.” Saying this, he lifted me onto his shoulders.

“What will people on the road think?” I said. “How they will gossip!”

“I will put you down whenever we get to any place in town that is crowded, and we will cross that place with me holding on to you very carefully. Afterwards I’ll put you back on my shoulders.”

“Okay,” I replied. The fellow hoisted me up on his shoulders and started walking.

It was a dark night and a blackout as well, but lo and behold! It was only nine o’clock but there was not a soul to be seen on the road, not even a dog.

“A few miles east of here is one of the Buddhist era centres of Angadesh, Parsando village. There is a very pious man who lives there; his name is Ramjii Singh. The skill to set dislocated bones has been passed down in Ramjii Singh’s family for generations. In olden times his forefathers used to set the dislocated leg bones of the king’s elephants. Ramjii Singh himself once set the leg bone of the elephant of the king of Monghyr. It will be very good if this Ramjii Singh comes early tomorrow morning and sets your leg bone.”

What could I say! There was nothing to say so I kept quiet. When we arrived at my door this huge entity set me down gently and said in a very modest and gentlemanly way: “I will go now. If you ever need me again, call me mentally and I’ll rush right over.”

“What is your name?” I asked.

“I am your shadow.”

“Where do you live?”

“Near you. But usually I remain on the peak of that mountain or at the top of that huge banyan tree where the ring slipped off your little finger today.” Saying this he put the same ring back on my little finger.

“This is the ring, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” I replied.

I passed the night in great pain. Finally dawn arrived. The pain had increased a little and the area had become swollen also. After breakfast I pulled up a deck chair in front of the house and sat down to read the newspaper; as I was doing so a man hurried up to the house and stopped and stood there. He was staring at me and seemed to be thinking something over. I asked him in Angika: “What are you looking for? Do you want someone?”

“Mr. Sarkar,” he replied in Angika. “I came looking for you.”

I called him over. The gist of what he had to tell me was this: At about 10:00 the night before, after he had finished his evening meal, and just as he was getting ready to go to bed, something strange happened in his bedroom. He saw a huge gorilla standing in front of his cot, a monstrous creature, as black as ink.

“When I saw him I bolted upright in fear,” he said. “The gorilla told me very politely and gentlemanly not to be afraid. ‘I have come about an urgent matter,’ the gorilla said. ‘Mr. Sarkar has just fallen in a trench and his right leg has been badly dislocated. Go right now and set his leg. If you find him sleeping then wait until he wakes up. Don’t wake him up.’ I started right then and there, Mr. Sarkar.

“Before leaving I asked the gorilla: ‘Where is Mr. Sarkar’s house? How will I recognize him?’ ‘You don’t have to worry about that,’ the gorilla replied. ‘When you come to a house and you find that you have stopped walking, then you will know that you are at the right place. You will find Mr. Sarkar in front of that house.’ And just like that, sir, I stopped walking in front of this house. And here I find you sitting and reading the newspaper. I already knew you so I had no difficulty recognizing you.”

“How is it that you already knew me?” I asked.

“I will tell you in a moment,” he replied.

Ramjii Singh took hold of my right leg and very carefully jerked it two or three times. There was a low, indistinct sound, and the bone went back into its proper place. The pain subsided immediately and even stranger, the swelling went down right in front of my eyes.

When I offered him some remuneration he said: “Mr. Sarkar, I walked all night, and for that also you have already given me a reward.”

“How is that?”

“When I was passing that huge banyan tree on the way here a gentleman stepped out from behind it. He looked exactly like you. He was wearing exactly the same glasses, the same kind of blue shirt and a ring on the little finger of his right hand. This gentleman gave me a gold coin and told me: ‘Go quickly. Mr. Sarkar is in a lot of pain. Don’t take any payment from him. I am giving this payment on his behalf.’

“Mr. Sarkar, I don’t understand how you could have been standing under that banyan tree when your leg is in so much pain. How did you go there? My brain just isn’t working. I immediately resolved to give you the gold coin and ask you to use it for flood relief in Monghyr District.”

Ramjii Singh bid me farewell and started back on the footpath towards Parsando village while I remained there, gazing at him as he went.

Úti

Vein + ktin= úti. Úti has two chief meanings for the above-mentioned reasons. The first meaning is “to weave” and the second is “movement to hell”.

Únaviḿsha

The meaning of the verbal root ún is “to reduce”, “to be shortened”, “to be on the path of decay”. It can also be spelled with u but it must be spelled with na. Thus the meaning of the word úna is “less”. The etymological meaning of únaviḿsha is “one less than viḿsha, or twenty”; its colloquial meaning is “nineteen”. Similarly we have únatrisha [twenty-nine], únacallisha [thirty-nine], únapaiṋcásha [forty-nine] and so forth. In rural Bengali it is said: úno bháte duno bal bhará pet́e rasátala. “If one eats less there is an accumulation of energy. If one eats excessively then it causes disease.” Shiva has said: Śaśt́haiṋca pramitáhárah [“The sixth is balanced diet”]. Shiva has also said: Atibhojanaḿ rogamúlam áyúkśayakaram [“Overeating leads to disease and shortening of life”].

Úrjá

The meaning of the verbal root úrju is “to heat”, “to warm up”, “to warm oneself by a fire or in the sun”. Úrju + d́a + t́á = úrjá. Úrjá means “heat”, “vitality”, “thermos”.

Úrńá

The meaning of the verbal root úrńu is “to cover”. It can be spelled with u also, but it must be spelled with ńa. Úrńú + d́a + t́a = úrńá. The etymological meaning of úrńá is “that which covers”. Its colloquial meaning is “wool”. Long ago the Aryans, who were living in Central Asia, used to use woollen garments due to the extreme cold of those regions. From this úrńá comes the north Indian word úńa. Úrńá → úńńá → úńa. Unfortunately, many people use na to spell úńa. No, the correct spelling is with ńa.

That tiny creature that produces a kind of úrńá or web from its umbilical region and lives at the centre of that web is called úrńanábha. Úrńanábha means “spider”. The thread that the spider weaves his net out of is also called úrńá. Another name for the thread of the spider’s web is lútá, or lútátantu.

Úrda/Úrdva

It can be spelled with the va either added to the consonant or left out. Úrda means “that which is above”. One should know the difference between úrdva and úrdhva. With úrdhva the va must be retained whether or not a da is joined to the dha. Similarly, both spellings are correct: úrvara/urvara, and úśá/uśá.

Úlúpin/Úlúthin

The meaning of the word úlúpin is “porpoise”. This aquatic creature was a land creature in prehistoric times. Long ago it became impatient with the tyranny of other land creatures and became an aquatic creature but it is still not able to breathe in water naturally. Thus from time to time it must come up to the surface for air before it can dive again.

Úśara

The word úśara means “that land which has become infertile because its salt content has increased due to the influx of salty water”. It should be kept in mind that land which has become infertile for any reason other than an increase in its salt content is not called úśara.

Úh

The meaning of the verbal root úh is “to marry”. Thus the meaning of the word úha is “marriage”. Long ago there used to be a popular and interesting folktale. In very ancient times, as with other animals, there was no custom of marriage among human beings. As far as it can be ascertained, this situation certainly continued until the middle of the Rgvedic age and likely until towards the end of that age. It was said during that time that there was once a five-year-old boy, the son of a certain sage, who became perplexed when he saw his mother going off with another man and asked his father why his mother was going off with that other fellow like that. The sage answered his son: “That’s the rule. Any woman can stay with any man whenever she likes. She can also leave him whenever she likes. In the same way, any man can go off with any woman at any time.”

The sage’s son asked: “Then what will I do?”

The sage replied: “Children who are breastfeeding will stay with their mother. Once they become too old for that they can stay wherever they like. Wherever they stay they have to make arrangements for their food in exchange for labour.”

“But that’s no good!” the sage’s young son exclaimed. “No good at all.”

In most cases, it was generally seen that the father did not bear the responsibility for the maintenance of their offspring or any other kind of responsibility towards them. All responsibility fell on the mother’s shoulders. For this reason wicked men used to put straightforward-natured women into extreme difficulty. The womenfolk used to spend their time under great duress. If not all, at least most of the men did not shoulder any responsibility for their offspring. Most of them were libertine. This is not to say that there were not any libertine woman, but the number of such women was less. Moreover, the affection they felt towards their children was a very strong bond of attachment which they could not easily break. This situation among humans, which was similar to that of animals, had been going on for approximately one million years, that is, human beings appeared about one million years ago.

Then Shiva made his appearance. He helped human beings to flower and blossom and put forth new leaves of welfare, expression, sweetness, developed thinking, spiritual awakening, and humanity. He became the chief resource of the human soul, a necessary part of everyone’s journey, regardless of their greatness or smallness, the luminous polestar of their life’s progress. The same Shiva who applied a healing balm to human beings’ external life by inventing medicine and the science of healing also regulated all levels of human life and gave humanity the top rung as the supreme and final achievement.

The women of that day stood at Shiva’s door and said: “O Sadáshiva, save us from this beastly, distressful condition. There is no man or woman strong enough today to lay down rules in this matter and to put them into practice with a firm hand.” Shiva’s heart melted; he understood their pain. He introduced the custom of marriage and firmly fixed the rights and responsibilities of the father. For the first time human beings felt the contact of a peaceful environment in social life.

Still some wicked-natured men remained and some libertine women as well. Then, with the help of his followers, Shiva obliged those wicked men to marry by punishing them with the rod and rope. Just as there were libertine men, there were also some libertine women. This libertine group became greatly frightened of Shiva. Seeing the terror of the anti-Shivaites, the devotees of Shiva added the portion dańd́apáshásipáńaye [“to Lord Shiva with the rod, rope and sword in hand”] to His prańama mantra [mantra of obeisance]. The followers of Shiva bound the sinners with rope and beat them with sticks.

These sinners used to make úh-úh sounds in pain and tried to flee. There were three kinds of u sounds – short, long, and extra-long. With the invention of script came letters for the short and long sounds, but not for the extra-long sound. The students used to learn from their Rgvedic or Sámavedic teachers when and where the extra-long pronunciation should be used (the extra-long u is virtually non-existent in the Atharvaveda and the Yajurveda). While writing, they would write ú. In olden times many sounds were pronounced as ú that with the passage of time became shortened to u. The prefix ut is one such sound; in olden times it was út. The followers of Shiva forced the makers of this úh-úh sound to marry and to accept the responsibility of caring for their offspring. Over time this úh came to mean “to marry”.

In today’s society also there are a few of these wicked-natured men. The leaders of the society or the state should make them utter this úh sound by creating the requisite circumstantial pressure. However, I must point out in unambiguous terms that making legal declarations against these rogues will not create the necessary circumstantial pressure to make wicked-natured men say úh.

Úd́ha

Úh + kta = úd́ha. The meaning of the word úd́ha is “married”. Vi – úd́ha = vyúd́ha, that is, one who has married in a special way, in a socially accepted way by informing at least five people. From the word avyúd́ha [unmarried] we get the spoken Bengali word áibuŕo. Michael Madhusudhan has mistakenly written in his poetry áibaŕa – it should be áibuŕo. Following an old custom of our Calcutta area, the pákasparsha⁽²⁾ (in spoken Bengali bao-bhát) used to be celebrated after the marriage and the avyúŕhánna (in spoken Bengali áibuŕo-bhát [feast before marriage]) was celebrated before the marriage.

Shiva was the first married man in human history. He had three wives: Párvatii (Aryan), Kálii (Dravidian) and Gauṋgá (Mongolian). There is a folk-verse in rural Bengal:

Vrśt́i paŕe t́ápur t́upur nadey ela ván
Shiv t́hákurer viye hacche tin kanye dán

[The rain fell pitter-patter, the river flooded; Shiva married three girls.]

Shiva was the first man to marry in earnest so the people of that time called him vyúd́ha out of respect. This vyúd́ha Shiva in later times, and in modern Bengali, became buŕo Shiva. This word buŕo has not come from the word vrddha [old] – it has come from the word vyúd́ha. Of course, the word boŕo shiva has come from the Bat́ukabhaerava or Bat́ukashiva of the Mahayana Buddhist era. Vat́uka → vad́ua → vaŕuá → boŕo. Shiva saved the womenfolk from complete ruin. He also saved the men from cultural degradation. For this reason every person in the world is indebted to Shiva; women as a whole are especially indebted to him. The unmarried girls of today still worship Shiva with devotion carrying on the traditions of that long-past event.

Footnotes

(1) Ujar in the languages of Bihar. The meaning of the word ujar is “white”. While the words ujar or ujal are no longer used in modern Bengali, they were quite common usage seven to eight hundred years back.

(2) Feast to celebrate the coming of the new bride to her husband’s house. –Trans.