Prabuddha Part XXVII

This is the final part of the translation of Mahagama Sekera's epic poem 'Prabuddha'.  Please note that it is a draft and although the immediate family of the poet is aware of the exercise it is by no means an authorized translation.  

Parts I, II, III, IV, V, VI , VII, VIII,  IX, X , XI, XII, XIII,XIV, XV, XVI, XVII, XVIII, XIX, XX , XXI, XXII, XXIII, XXIV, XXV and XXVI can be found in www.malindapoetry.blogspot.com.

CHAPTER V

‘You’ve wept enough now Niranjala

yes, he died

our son is no more,

this is true.

He left

did not tarry to witness

the sorrows of sansara.

Death is common to us all

his met his fate before we did.

Now let us console ourselves:

‘Every being that suffers in sansara

they are all our children.’

sava-munisa me paja

“All people are my children,”

as said the Emperor Asoka.

There were young men

at the thunman handiya

there where three roads met

there were young men

who saw Prabuddha approach

unkempt hair

unshaven

ragged clothes

shirt and trousers torn,

with angered eyes

they glanced around

in harsh tones spouting:

‘Pick up club and sword!

Tarry not but strike, kill!’

One of them assailed him thus:

‘Uncle!

Where are you going?’

Prabuddha stopped.

For a moment.

‘Uncle!  Answer this!

Did you not strive

a long time ago

strive to find a way out

a pathway to freedom,

a way for all sorrows to quell?

Even you failed did you not?’

On Prabuddha’s lips

a half-smile did play.

‘Uncle!

That’s our quest too,

a pathway to emancipation

a way out of immiserization

we too suffer

you know?

Food for the stomach

for the waist a cloth

a roof for the head

these we lack

we starve

and suffer in poverty

unemployed are we.

Uncle!

Join us

let us to the death fight

until we free ourselves

from this monumental frustration

until we see the end

of all this suffering.

May victory be ours!’

Prabuddha spoke

soft and calm:

‘Victor!

Food and garment, a house and a roof

do the acquisition of such yield freedom?

Do they cure all frustrations?

Does the sorrow

splashed all over sansara

end then and there?’

There was unease among the youth.

‘We do not understand this sermon

we do not need this sermon

deep philosophy, the abhidharma

such sermons will not our hunger satisfy

such sermons will not our nudities conceal.’

‘No

Victor!

It’s not a sermon,

but listen!

As long as there’s greed for power

whilst there reigns competition

could we defeat sorrow,

could frustration be banished?

Struggle is power-greed

Struggle is hatred, it is competition.’

‘This is all we ask:

Do we not have a right to live?

Answer that!’

Then came the boos

from all direction

then came the taunts

and other missiles.

A sharp pain he left

from his forehead

up went his hand

down it came with blood

and reddened fingertips.

He was like a statue

from granite hewn

still

unperturbed

he stood still just there

his was an unwavering gaze

there was no fear

hatred there was none

and why?

His entire mind was saturated

with pity birthed just for them. 

And yet forget he could not

that troublesome query

it bother him:

‘Do we not have a right to live?’

Then he remembered

from a long time ago

the way the mice were slain!

To harden the mind

softened by the arts

and to progress an obstacle.

The weak are subdued

and the strong arise.

If life’s race is to be won

slay one must from mind

that thing called pity,

for the fight must one prepare

and even a friend must be put at risk

if and where necessary.

The kitchen was duly sealed

windows and doors all shut

all mice holes with rags plugged

and when all vessels

pots, pans and containers

were lifted, were shaken

there were mice everywhere

of the kos-eta kind, the harvest mice

running hither and thither

there was nowhere to go

nowhere to hide

all escape routes cut off

entrance to homes plugged.

‘Wait!  I will let you have it!’

Prabuddha the broom in both hands held

with all his strength and all his insanity

he smote them down, one by one

till none were left alive.

And the dead harvest mice

those of the kos-eta kind

were in the corner of the kitchen

blood at their mouths

so much like a veli-kos-eta pile

those Jak-seed delicacies

delicate-made by burial in sand.

The war having ended

and insanity gone

he looked upon the dead.

There arose regret

disgust and disillusionment too

about himself:

‘What on earth did you do?’

And that day he could not eat

not one morsel of food did he suffer. 

Plucked he did

a snail from a tree trunk

turned it on its back

and dropped a crystal of salt

into the visible flesh

and it melted by and by

and in the shell

was now but a thick blob of slime

and yet his mind

to harden refused. 

Subdued the reptile did he

with club and rock

tossed into the fire

to twist and turn,

he shuddered

when death arrived

but the love in his mind

refused to die.

Into the gums the needle went

into the mouth the cold white extractor

a massive tooth was drawn

with a terrible grating noise

making him want to flee. 

The lower jaw

with a lancer cut

a ball of cotton-wool

held with scissor

to dab and clean

out the pus that filled

the crater thus created –

is wasn’t something to look upon

But society has been poisoned

a patient no less it has become

a harsh cut into soft flesh

is advocated

and is it wrong thereafter

with a ball of cotton-wool

the wound to dab and clean?

‘Lord!

Explain your distance

what reason for this absence

in terrible times

in the pride of the pernicious

the poor doth burn!

In the villages they prowl

in desolate places

the innocents they slaughter.

Like the lion in its den

in secret places they watch and wait

they waylay the poor

cast their nets and draw them in,

Arise, LORD!

Deliver me, my God!

Break the teeth of the wicked

forget not the poor!

Vasettha!

There came a moment

when one such being of the light

inhabiting the Abbhasaras exclaimed,

“What substance is this!’

Stuck a finger into the savory earth

and fingertip licked.

Thus did his greed begin to grow

from curiosity to greed

and greed to intense greed

did he move.

And Vasettha!

Then did they share among themselves

grains of rice

parcel out the land.

Would they callously erase

the boundaries thus marked?

If the human mind

is ready to bend

and fight tyranny

could it not also be bent

to prevent tyranny?

If war was first birthed in the mind

cannot the mind also yield peace?

A pristine society

can war and hatred create?

Should not a holy war

a dhrama yuddhaya

be launched

such a society to create

like a surgery cures the sick?

Could this be done without war?

Victor!

This is a question.

For the grand church feast they came

the multitudes from afar

on either side of the street

there had sprouted of a sudden

a row of shops

cheap accessories and trinkets

sweets there were in abundance

dosi and aluva

along with the gram, the peas, the kadala.

There were flags

fluttering in colors gay

around the main flag post.

The blood of a holy man

that bled for those who suffered

colors still

the cross in the church.

‘And before it

kneeling with a child

who art thou,

with sunken eyes

and premature gray

moving lips in soft murmur

a calm countenance too?

Woman!

Tell me,

who thou art?

Enter through the narrow gate

for wide is the gate and broad the road

that to destruction leads;

and many through it move

for the gate to is small and the way narrow

that leads to life

and those who find it

few.

‘Yasodha!’

‘Yes! Prabuddha!

I was right

I though

one day our paths would cross.

I sinned, yes,

while with you

and thereafter too,

from one club to the next

hotel to hotel

I danced, I sang

gambled away my wealth

drank myself to unconsciousness

with tourists

from around the world

nights I spent

until I was gone

wasted to the absolute bone.

Look! This is my son

this is all I got from them

this is all that remains

a victim of STDs

he’s blind

and yet in these eyes

the softest light

of love

I see.

Prabuddha!

You’ve changed.

Unshaken are you

unmoved, still

I feel, I see

the calmness of your mind

flows from your eyes

there’s pity too

that from your eyes flow.

I would like to learn

once more from you;

would like to be a student true.

Prabuddha!

Tell me

did you the Truth discover

did you freedom secure?

‘There was a time I searched

searched in many lands

across many ages

from teachers that I sought out;

I learnt from them

but the first lessons

they were taught by you,

now I search no longer

those who seek shall not find.

‘Nirvana

is like an empty sky

devoid of boundaries

it is right here

at all times clear

an anti-thesis of comprehension perhaps

eludes when its capture is sought;

neither can it be cast aside

and in unattainability

is it obtained;

when you are silent, it speak

it is silent when voice you awaken;

the wide door is open for alms

no one stands in your way.’

I do not understand these words

and yet it resonates as trace

could you not teach me

in degrees of greater clarity?’

‘It cannot with word be taught

it is to be with heart understood

knowledge it is not

not something to be taught

it is a comprehension

something that one must obtain

as one will.

‘And yet Yashoda!

I know now

that you too

through the narrow gate

has entered.

And so

there’s no return

not for you

banished from the world

it’s as though a door

shut behind you

pushing you onto the true path,

you are not helpless

as you were before

unlike these children

who still are blind,

born to a diseased society

victim of society’s dreadful diseases

blind and orphaned

lost are they on this earth

not knowing where to turn.

‘Yasodha!

There’s another truth

that came to me:

where famine reigns

the dharma cannot take root

those who starve

cannot the dharma comprehend.

Beauty – nirvana – truth.

Sabbe sattha aaharattithika!

“Ananda!

He is hungry

and to listen to a serom

therefore unsuited –

feed him before all else.”

‘There was a time I had wealth

when comforts I possessed

and you were wealthier than I

but did it yield contentment?

And was it not for that very reason

it eluded?

Yasodha!

Having had your fill

of food and feast

splendid garments and comfortable houses

with much wealth endowed

was it not after all that

that it dawned

that true contentment was something ele,

that it all with sorrow ends?

‘That is the first step

in the journey of discovery,

the discovery of true contentment,

the discovery of inalienable truths;

it is this step that I took

it is the very step

that Siddhartha too

once took.

Once that step is taken

man no longer sins

does not hate

does not compete

and the entire world

turns into a vessel

for his compassion:

having triumphed over the world

after taking that step

he does not let go

of the world. 

With compassion for the suffering

he too readily suffers.

Is there any purpose

in the attainment of Enlightenment

in becoming Buddha

if there were none

to comprehend the dharma,

if there were none

to comprehend the truth,

if there were none

to comprehend the incomparable beauty?

Such an audience you will not find;

not in a society that shoves and heaves

to get into a bus

to buy a loaf of bread.

To creating an exalted society

one that can the dharma comprehend

that can the beauty of truth perceive

there is a necessary first step:

the creation of a world

in food, clothing and shelter

complete. 

For this reason do I stop.

Stopping itself is journey

sansara itself is nirvana.

Outside the church

the late sun was weak

a drip-dripping rain

bathed in that soft light

fell.

Yashoda watched 

with unblinking eyes

as through the soft sunlight

through the soft drops of rain

Prabuddha slowly made his way.

At the far end of the garden

glistened a small rainbow.

‘Never before

have I seen

a rainbow this small

a rainbow this close,

this is a miracle!’

she thought.

Yashoda watched

Prabuddha’s figure

receding through the soft sunlight

through the softly falling rain

through the seven color bands of the rainbow

with unblinking eyes

until his tall frame

disappeared into the crowd

 in the teeming street.

At the edge of her eye 

there appeared then

a single un-agitated tear 

of singular contentment.

THE END