The Journey of Learning

A Verse Born out of Grief

Ma Nishada pratishtam tvamagamah shashvatih samah| 

Yat Kaunchamithunadekam avdhih Kamamohitam||

"Oh hunter, for committing the heinous act of killing one of the infatuated Krauncha-bird pair indulging in love-making, you shall find neither peace of mind nor fame for eternity!"

The curse tumbled out from Maharshi Valmiki's mouth without his realization.

His eyes had welled-up, seeing the fallen male Krauncha writhing in an expanding pool of his own blood, its chest fatally pierced by the arrow released from the hunter's bow. The heart-wrenching wail from its partner had filled him with pity.

It was not clear to him precisely when Shoka, the grief that he felt deep within, had manifested into anger, bubbled up and got delivered through his mouth as a curse in exquisite verse.

As the hunter ran away fearing the wrath of the sage, Valmiki's analytical mind started cogitating.

Why had a common act of a hunter killing a bird filled his heart with so much grief?

Why had it angered him to the extent of delivering a curse?

Finally, how was it that the curse had emerged in such beautiful, rhythmic words, that too, without his conscious effort?

"The verse that came of out my mouth are, if you noticed Bharadwaja," the sage addressed his disciple standing behind him, carrying the change of fresh clothes for the sage, "is symmetric in four quartets, each of which has eight syllables. It is in an exquisite meter. Since the verse originated from Shoka, I shall name it Shloka."

Valmiki stepped into the clear waters of Tamasa river for a bath and got out after offering his Noon-prayers. As he changed into dry clothes and started walking back to his Ashrama situated in-between the Tamasa and Jahnavi rivers, his mind vividly recollected the events which had made that morning special.

***

It had seemed to be a fairly normal day to begin with. The hermitage-dwellers were up as usual much before sun-rise and were going about their early morning chores. Having performed the morning fire rituals, Valmiki was in his quarters, if he could call his modest hut so, reviewing the lessons he planned to teach his disciples who had started gathering in the quadrangle around the large banyan tree.

"Maharshi Narada has entered the hermitage and he is seeking you, Maharshi," one of the youngsters came running and announced.

That was unexpected.

Narada, the eminent sage was renowned for his self-study, excellent oration and Tapas. He was also well-known as the Rshi who roamed the worlds at his will, with up-to-date knowledge of the events happening anywhere.

Valmiki hurried out to welcome the eminent visitor. He met him half-way from the hermitage entrance and greeted him with folded palms.

"Your visit fills my heart with pleasure, Maharshi. Welcome to our Ashrama!", he said in a delighted voice, "Please allow me to offer you a seat and some simple refreshments."

Soon, they were comfortably seated under the large banyan tree on mats made of dried grass, discussing about the happenings in the world. Valmiki's disciples and other hermit dwellers gathered around to have a glimpse of the accomplished visitor and listen to his words.

"I have been wondering about something for a long time, Maharshi," Valmiki said to Narada after the exchange of pleasantries, "Since you are aware of all significant events that take place in any of the three worlds, I cannot think of anyone better to pose this question to."