Megha Dootam is a lyric by ancient Sanskrit poet Kalidasa. It is a love story of a Yaksha separated from his Yakshini, who seeks the help of a cloud-envoy to convey the lovers re-uniting message. The author transcreated this `Allegoric Quest for Divine Beloved` into a well rhymed, brilliant work of art.
Kalidasa's Megha Dootam
Cloud-EnvoyBy R. M. ChallaAuthorHouse
Copyright © 2009 R. M. Challa
All right reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4389-5388-5Chapter One
1 Amid the lush, leafy shades of Mount Ramagiri, Near the streams sanctified by the bathing Sita Devi, An undutiful Yaksha, banished by his master for a year, Made his forlorn abode-separated from his spouse dear.
2
So emaciated as to cause the bracelet to drop from his wrist, Eight months later on monsoon's first morn, as though by tryst, The hapless lover espied on the adjacent hill-slope An alluringly elephantine cloud which evoked his high hope.
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Manfully restraining the gushing tears of extreme anguish, The Yaksha gazed at the cloud with a longingly rare relish; That a lovelorn swain so stares at the cloud is not strange, For its sight, even in united lovers, effects a queer change.
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Wishing to convey soon the news of his well-being to his wife Through the cloud-messenger, for fear of her taking her life-Now that the rainy season has come, afflicting parted lovers-He bade the cloud welcome, with fond words and fresh flowers.
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Indeed, how strange that a message-which a man alone might Carry-should be entrusted to an inanimate admixture of light, Smoke, water-vapor, and air! Yes, how can passion's bondsman cogitate Upon the distinction between the animate and the inanimate?
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"O cloud, I know you are the worthy scion of Pushkala-Avartaka Cloud-clan, besides being the protean servitor of Lord Indra; Is it not meet that an exile like me should crave your mercy? Better fail in begging the noble than win, aided by the lowly.
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"To those struck by the heat of the sun or the pangs of separation, You are the supreme savior. So now let your destination Be Alaka-the city that shines like the moon on Shiva's head, With its white castles amid gardens-to give my love to my beloved.
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"As you traverse across your breezy path, oh with what true Relief would the love-sick ladies let fly their hair, seeing you Go on your lovers-reuniting errand! Which lover, even unexiled like me, Would hesitate to respond to the message of love you kindly carry?
9
"Joyous friends of yours are heralding your gracious errand: The gentle breeze is propelling you toward Kubera's high land; On your left the Chataka birds are singing for your sole delight; The serried ranks of she-cranes are joining your eye-feasting flight.
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"You'll look upon my love like your own brother's wife. That chaste lady is certainly sustaining her life, By just looking forward to my exile's end; hope has the power Of preserving parted lovers, like the stalk that holds the flower.
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"Your ear-gratifying roars usher in the rainy season-Even as the proliferating mushrooms provide the proper reason For nascent fertility and inspire the royal swans to keep you company Up to Lake Manasarovar, stocked with lotus-stalk-food for the journey.
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"Now fold in your fond embrace this majestic Mount Chitrakuta-So hallowed by the foot-tread of the divine Rama-And take your leave of it, for it is shedding a tear As you are parting from it after your brief visit once a year.
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"Ere you hear my message to my wife, it is but right That I should outline the best method for your flight: Whenever wearied, you may take rest on any hill-tower And drink of the flowing streams there to regain your true power.
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"As you sublimely fly by, the simple Siddha women Would wonder whether a mountain-top itself is being taken Away by the blowing wind; just amused, go on your way, brushing aside The outstretched trunks of tuskers guarding the world on every side.
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"Lo, behold the rainbow above yonder anthill, which seems To be an assemblage of all precious stones; as it gleams Upon your dusky form, oh how imaginatively one is led To picture the peacock-feather adorning Krishna's head!
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"The credulous peasant women look up to you with gratitude, For you are the rain-causing source of their livelihood Of agriculture; so, raining a little upon the fields of Maala-Which are fresh-plowed and sweet-smelling-proceed to Alaka.
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"As a token of thanksgiving for the nourishing rain You provide for its mango grove, the Amrakuta mountain Will offer itself as a rare retreat for your relaxing. Even a mean person forgets not favors; how could a great hill-king?
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"The Amrakuta, with its ripe mangoes, looks bright right through-Save the spot shaded by you, which is like a dark hairdo. Well may you appeal to the celestial fairy, glancing from above As the bosom of Mother Earth, the matrix of true love.
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"Resting a bit among the arbors frequented by amorous tribal women And discharging your debt to their land with a little rain, You will go further and discover river Narmada, adjacent To Vindhya hills, looking like a temple-tusker's adornment.
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"So showering, you will lose a little strength, no doubt, but By drinking in the Narmada waters, perfumed by the elephants' rut, You will soon recover it and will not be dispersed by the air. Only the weaklings are despised; the mighty are honored everywhere.
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"Sighting the light-green Neepa tree, which half-bloomingly grows; Eating the tender plantains growing in the green meadows; And inhaling the soil which is sweet-scented by moisture: The deer implicitly display your course through the pasture.
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"The Siddhas-looking on the Chataka birds drinking drops of rain Before they drop on earth and counting the ranks of the flying crane-Would welcome you heartily, because your thundering progress Frightens their sweethearts into a tighter, closer embrace.
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"Much as you are dedicated to the quick conveying of my message-Yet, on each and every fascinating hill, with its assemblage Of birds and flowers, you are likely to stop and delay-may I Ask you to treat the peacock's heart-warming cries as those of 'goodbye'?
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"As you near the Dasarna country: the Ketaki blossoms grow In radiant whiteness in the pleasure gardens; the crow And other rural birds build their nests; the Jambu trees, laden With ripe fruits, offer the royal swans a seasonal haven.
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"When you reach the city of Vidisa, the Dasarna capital, you Will find your most cherished dreams of love coming true; For, sensing your thunderous approach, the luscious Vetravati river Offers you her waters like a saucy lady's lips to her lover.
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"Next, Mount Neechai-with its Kadamba trees at their best, As your touch invokes their full blooming-will provide you rest; There you can feel the perfumed touch of the young citizens, Who just enjoyed the company of voluptuous courtesans.
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"Having rested, keep going along the river banks, showering Your welcome raindrops here and there to hasten the flowering Of the wayside plants; and then extend your shade to the sweet Women plucking those flowers, to protect them from the sun's heat.
28
"Albeit it is out of your way, fail not to take a detour Through the city of Ujjain: on the palace-towers, let your Sight scan the features of damsels scared by your lightning-aide; If you don't feast your eyes on them, your life is almost wasted.
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"On your way to Ujjain, you will be passing by River Nirvindhya, which, swan-like, flows undulatingly. Ineffably you will enjoy its innate evocative beauty, For, like all women, it expresses its first love suggestively.
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"Pause there for a while, and then give the joy of your company To that river, which has been pining inconsolably For you and is as pale and emaciated as a dry leaf; How lucky you are to relieve her of her lonesome grief!
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"When you do get down to Ujjain, the jewel of Avanti country, You'll hear the heroic tales about Udayana from its old folks; verily, For the benefit of the people, who couldn't fulfill their felicity In Heaven itself, is specially created on earth that great city.
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"The soft melodies of the singing Saarasa birds are wafted on To the senses of the Visala damsels by Sipra river-winds at dawn-At once freeing them from the all-night love-making's exhaustion, And aiding their lovers to induce them to another amorous union.
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"Looking at the shop-windows of the city of Visala-Embellished as they are with rare gems without any flaw, Like pearls, emeralds, and diamonds-one might justly wonder Whether all that now remains of the fabulous sea-wealth is mere water!
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"The senior citizens of Visala entertain friends visiting Them with such tales: 'Udayana carried away the daughter of our king'; 'Tusker Nalagiri broke the pole to which it was chained and ran amuck'; 'We had a garden of golden palms which brought us good luck'.
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"O Cloud, the Visala horses are like those drawing the Sun's chariot; Its elephants, as huge as hills, are, like you, suffused with watery rut; Its heroes bravely stood up to even the demon-king Ravana And can show marks of wounds caused by his sword Chandrahasa.
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"The sweet smell of flowers adorning the hairdo of Ujjain's fair Sex; the fragrance fl owing from the fumes that dry their hair; The prints of their vermilioned feet on its terraces; the friendly Peacock's dancing: these sights relieve the tedium of your journey.
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"Seeing you bear the same hue as that of the throat of their Master, Lord Shiva's Pramatha hordes would greet you with great honor, And river Gandhavati sends up fragrant breezes for your joy From its lotuses and the cosmetics which the bathing beauties employ.
38
"At the Shiva shrine of Mahaakaala, you would do well to stay On till sunset-the hour of evening prayers-and to pray To Him through your mild thunder's musical reproduction, Resembling His drum-beats: so may you gain His benediction.
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"You will have the benefit of worldly felicity, too, As the Lord's devotee-danseuses-their waist-band-jewels jingling-greet you With their bee-row-like glances of gratitude for your cool rain, Which relieves their dancing feet and fanning hands of their hot strain.
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"Then, as the Lord starts His cosmic dance with raised arms, Drop yourself on them with all your crimson twilight charms; For He prefers you to His usual elephant-hide, and you could set aside His Consort's concern by freeing Her from the fear of seeing that hide.
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"As the Ujjain girls go out to meet their lovers at night, Guide them along the dark highway with the golden light Of your lightning; but scare not those already nervous creatures With your thunders, downpours, and other frightening features!
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"If you are wearied by the frequent expending of the power Of your internal lightning, rest for the night on some hill-tower; But as soon as the day breaks, forget not to hurry On-for, going on such an errand, the messenger must not tarry.
43
"Even as the tears of deserted wives are dried by the reunion With their spouses, so too are the dew-drops evaporated by the Sun At dawn on the petals of the Lotus, His earthly beloved; Then obstruct not the sunrays, lest you earn the parted wife's hatred!
44
"Your reflection in the deep, limpid waters of the Gambhira stream Will invoke her amorous attachment to you; so do not deem It fit, out of pride, to despise her yielding wish-Revealed through her eyes, resembling fascinating fish.
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"True, you would be hard put to it, to leave the delectable taste Of such a loving one-whose dark water-garment from her waist Seems to drop down, as though she were reduced to nudity After parting from you and is unable to flow to capacity.
46
"Still, to make your passage to Devagiri more pleasant Blows the gentle breeze: which is rendered richly fragrant Following your showers; which carries the snouty notes of the big Tuskers breathing in that fragrance; and which ripens the seasonal fig.
47
"At Devagiri, exercise your charmed creative powers And shower the heavenly, Ganga-anointed flowers Upon the resplendent Skanda, who was installed there by Lord Shiva For the protection of the armies of Lord Indra.
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"In place of Her normal ear-ornament, the white lily, Goddess Parvati wears-out of Her love for Her son Skanda-the Lightning-struck feather of his mount, the peacock. Her eye is more fair Than usual, as it now mirrors the moon in Her lord's hair.
49
"Worshipping at that Skanda temple, whereto your way will be clear-As the Veena-playing devotee-couples step aside for fear Of getting drenched by you-you will then pay your tribute To the river Charmanvati, formed by Rantideva's cow-sacrificing rite.
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"As you-having the same darkish hue as Lord Krishna's-Bow down to take in a few drops of that river, the Siddhas And Gandharvas-looking from their distant outer space-Mistake you for an amethyst set in the midst of the earth-necklace.
51
"Leaving that stream behind, you wend your way from above The town of Dasapura, attracting for yourself the looks of love Of its damsels-whose eyebrows resemble a bee-row Hovering over jasmines, presenting a black-and-white show.
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"Having passed through the sinless region of Brahmavarta, You will reach the erstwhile battlefield of Kurukshetra-Where the hero Arjuna rained his deadly arrows on the foe Just as you drop your myriad showers on the lotuses below.
53
"Follow the example of Balarama, who respected His kith and kin by putting down his plow-weapon-which reflected The visage of his wife Revati-and who expiated an impiety By imbibing the sacred waters of the river Saraswati.
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"Later you move up to Mount Kanakhala, to reach river Ganga: The off spring of Jahnu; the stream descending from Himalaya; The step-ladder to Heaven of the Sagara progeny; The crest of Shiva's locks, wherefrom she seems to mock Parvati.
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"When you bend down to sip the Ganga waters, in you One would imagine the heavenly elephant-guard, as your hue Is reflected by its crystal-white fluid; also, your appearance Suggests to the on-looker the transmuted Ganga-Yamuna confluence.
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"When you get to the Ganga's source, Himalaya-white with snow, And sweet-scented with the musk constantly dropped below By the roaming Kasturi animals-you take the needful Rest there, looking like the snowflakes kicked up by Shiva's bull.
57
"If the forest-fire ignited by the friction of dealwood trees-Already consuming the hairs of the yaks and carried by strong breeze-Torments personified Himalaya himself, please alleviate His pain with your rain, for to aid the needy is the duty of the great.
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"If the eight-footed Sarabha beasts, casually mistaking You for an elephant, would succeed only in breaking Their own bones in trying to attack you, duly punish them By raining hail-stones on them-for the foolish must be put to shame.
59
"Prostrate yourself before the image of Lord Shiva's Feet, imprinted on a stone and ever worshipped by the Siddhas; The very sight of that holy imprint is enough to redeem The sinner here and beyond, to enroll him in His Pramatha team.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Kalidasa's Megha Dootamby R. M. Challa Copyright © 2009 by R. M. Challa. Excerpted by permission.
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