It is observed that progress in every sphere of life takes place through clash and cohesion. In such progress, movement is the sole end. Obviously, there is movement; there is forward movement as there was before. But there is difference with respect to crest and trough. In Bengali one is called uha and the other is avoha. Uha [crest] is a kalá [systaltic phase] and avoha [trough] is also a kalá. The transformation that takes place, that is, the shortening of the kalá, when the kalá becomes smaller, is called káśt́há. When kalá finds no further scope for evolution; in other words, when káśt́há has evolved completely, can undergo no further transformation, it moves in a straight line. In that state it is called parákáśt́há. In the case of a great sinner, it [the sin] is called the parákáśt́há [culmination] of sin. If one is extremely greedy, it is termed as the parákáśt́há of greed. Parákáśt́há means the “final state”. In Durgá saptashatii, i.e., in the Márkańd́eya Puráńa, the following has also been mentioned about Paramá Prakrti [Cosmic Operative Principle] – Kalá kaśt́hádi rúpena. It means that Paramá Prakrti advances onwards in the form of kalá and káśt́há. The book is named Márkańd́eya Puráńa because it was the creation of Márkańd́eya, the great seer. From this work, there are seven hundred selected verses. The Márkańd́eya Puráńa is a voluminous work. The seven hundred selected verses comprise the book Durgá Saptashatii. Saptashatii means “Seven hundred”. The book Durgá Saptashatii is generally known as Shrii Shrii Cańd́ii in Northern India, especially in Bengal.

What happens when human beings move ahead on the path of progress? Differences are noticed in the nature of crest (uha) and trough (avoha). It may be that at the inception of your journey the crest and trough of your movement were of one kind. Later, they became different. In and through such a process, it becomes a straight line.

A spiritual practitioner is moving towards the cherished goal in life. Everyone moves towards a goal. In the absence of a goal all my labour goes in vain. For example, I am rowing a boat. I am exerting effort. But if I do not know for certain where I am taking the boat then all my labour goes in vain. What happens when the boat is caught downstream? It is pushed towards the deep sea and loses sight of the shore. When it moves upstream, this amounts to nothing more than straining the muscles. It does not yield any benefit in the long run.

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

Káiye dhán kháilore
Khedáner mánuś nái,
Kháivár beláy ácche mánuś
Kámer veláye nái,
Kamer mánuś nái.

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

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

Háth páo thákite torá
Avash haiyá raeli,
Káyie ná khedáiyá torá
Kháivár vasli.
Káiye dhán kháilore.

[Having hands and legs, you remained idle,
Without chasing away the crow, you sat down to eat;
Look, the crow eats away the paddy.]

At this stage, there is no scope to sing bandhure in an accented manner.

E páŕáte pát́á nái put́á nái
Maric bát́e gále,
Tárá kháilo táŕátáŕi
Ámrá mari jhále.
Káiye dhán kháilore.

[In this locality, there is neither mortar nor pestle,
People turn chillies into paste on their cheeks,
They eat fast, while we die of pungent bites,
Look, the crow eats up the paddy.]

So, there is a great deal of effort. Then there is no scope to sing bandhure in prolonged style. The song that one sings while rowing the boat upstream, is also called ujániyá.

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

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

The struggle against all odds which is very natural in the darkness of the night, is not so very natural on the full moon night. That is why the Tantrics of bygone days used to do shava sadhana [Tantric meditation sitting on a dead body] in the darkness of the new moon night, and not on the full moon night.

Waging war against the forces of time (kaláshakti), uttering d́imboḿ d́imboḿ sud́imbaḿ sud́imbaḿ pac pac..., is possible in the dense darkness of the new moon night, not in the full moon night. In the full moon night, one sings songs of lighter flavours (rasas). At that time one becomes fascinated by the beauty of flowers, the ripples on the river, the colour of the leaves and the scintillating sky. But in the new moon night, one finds one colour alone – black – which surrounds [is conducive to] the static propensities (támasika vrttis) of the person. One will struggle fiercely against such staticity.

Similarly, every expression of life, every existential vibration, is dependent on the environment. Birbhum, Bankura, Manbhum – they constitute the red soil of Ráŕhbhúm. There one finds layers of undulating red soil stretching for miles. There is no big river, only small hills. With the end of winter and the onset of spring, the storms blow over the land of this red soil, and cloud of red dust swirl from one horizon to the other. In such surroundings, the mind is overwhelmed with pathos and excitement. Along with the shedding of leaves, the mind sheds itself and feels like rushing to the other end of the horizon in a veritable dance. At that time, the expression of the mind is not like that of a normal person. It is the expression of a semi-insane person. In Sanskrit, a person who is semi-mad is called bátul. The Bengali word bául is derived from this bátul. For this reason the bául songs have their origin in the land of Ráŕh.

What is kiirtana? There is the reverberation of leaves and trees. The water and the leaves sport with joy. As if the sky is also dancing with joy – all are dancing. Amidst such an environment, the mind of a spiritualist tends to dance, to rush ahead. On one side, there is the fertile land of the Gangetic plain, and on the other side, lies the dry terrain of Ráŕh. This environment of complex diversity is favourable for kiirtana. That is why the low-lying areas of Birbhum, i.e., the landmass that stretches towards the river Bhagirathi, is the birth place of kiirtana. Because the very environment is conducive to it. That is why Mahaprabhu (Shrii Caitanya Dev) desired to do kiirtana to the tunes of Ráŕh, in the styles of Ráŕh and in the words of Ráŕh (ráŕhiisure ráŕhii bole ráŕhii ákhare kiirtana karive).

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

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

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

So, in the course of such advancement, onwards and onwards, when, one fine morning, human beings reach the state of the supra-sensuous, they would be able to discern the link between the finite and Infinite. Then one finds that although one was confined to a body compsed of five rudimental factors, this quinquelemental frame did not characterize one’s real identity. One’s real identity is not to be found in this quinquelemental base.

Ye ámár satya paricaya
Maḿse tár parimáp nay.

[My true identity cannot be measured in terms of flesh.]

Thus although one lives within a finite boundary, one has established a relationship with the Infinite. So we cannot undermine anyone as an insignificant creature. Rabindranath says –

Ámi ye rúper padme karechi arúp madhu pán,
Duhkher bakśer májhe ánander peyechi sandhán,
Ananta maoner váńii shunechi antare,
Dekhechi jyotir path shunyamaya ándhár prántare.
Nahi ámi vidhir brhat parihás,
Asim aeshvarya niye racita mahat sarvanásh.

[In the lotus of forms, I have tasted the sweetness of the Formless One,
In the bosom of sorrow, I have found bliss,
Inside my heart I have heard the voice of infinite silence,
In the blinding darkness of the void, I have seen the path of light.
I am not simply a great joke of fate,
Was I created from boundless wealth, merely for annihilation?]

This is neither complete ruin (mahat sarvanásh) nor complete annihilation (mahat vinaśt́i). It is not total annihilation as related in the Vedas. Human beings are a part of the Cosmic Entity, are children of that Cosmic Entity. One day or the other, they will be one with the Great. When becoming ́That’ is a foregone certainty, then if this ascent to the Great takes place today, now, this very moment, what will happen as a result? As a result of moving forward, progressive expansion will become possible. A person will feel that they are moving to a higher plane than ordinary human beings. And the mind will be surcharged with joy. So at the first stage, when there is progressive march and the kalá gets transformed into kást́há, it is termed as yatamána. In Sanskrit yatamána means “perseverance”.

One, who is persevering, who is engaged in the effort to become better, nobler, and eager to achieve something unique, is not a completely ordinary human being. One is not a normal person for the simple reason that the kalá [curvature] of their psychic expressions are being gradually transformed into káśt́há [linear flow].

It is true that, such a person is a normal human being, but unlike others whose kalá remains as kalá, their kalá is gradually and unconsciously transformed into káśt́há. This state of transformation is yatamána. Since yatamána is a state of transformation, the environment exerts its deep influence on it. While at home, one may remain in the state of yatamána. It may be that one’s family members are creating great obstacles, and forcefully saying, “Eat this” or “Do this now,” “Now we will not let you do this” – in this manner they create all kinds of barriers. Now one has fallen amidst multiple obstacles and tests. Maybe, for some, such obstacles and tests are of a lesser degree. In case of a person who experiences such obstacles to a lesser degree, the kalá is not properly transformed into káśt́há. At that moment, obstacles are a great necessity. Obstacles should appear. One should invite obstacles. What is the benefit if obstacles come along the path? The transformation of kalá [sysltaltic flow] into káśt́há [linear flow] will be accelerated. Obstacles will appear in personal life, in the collective life, in social life, in all spheres of human life. Obstacles need to come and are desirable. If you struggle against obstacles, you will stand to gain and will never lose. That is why obstacles are to be considered as friends.

Let us suppose, some one throttles you and says, “I will not let your natural expression of language manifest itself.” If you oppose such a person and you are determined to fight against them, then what happens? Your kalá will get transformed into káśt́há, because when your kalá is pitted against crude external obstacles, it is transformed. This is the state of yatamána.