THE UNQUIET GRAVE

 

THE   UNQUIET  GRAVE

The wind doth blow today, my love,

And a few small drops of rain;

I never had but one true-love,

In cold grave she was lain.

 

I’ll do as much for my true-love

As any young man may;

I’ll sit and mourn all at her grave

For a twelvemonth and a day.

 

The twelvemonth and a day being up,

The dead began to speak;

“Oh, who sits weeping on my grave

And will not let me sleep?”

 

“ ‘Tis I, my love, sits on your grave

And will not let you sleep;

For I crave one kiss of your clay-cold lips,

And that is all I seek.”

 

“You crave one kiss of my clay-cold lips;

But my beath smells earthly strong;

If you have one kiss of my clay-cold lips,

Your time will not be long.

 

“ ‘Tis down in yonder garden green.

Love where we used to walk,

The finest flower that ere was seen

Is withered to a stalk.

 

“The stalk is wither’d dry, my love,

So will our hearts decay ;

So, make yourself content, my love,

Till God calls you away.

 

            This ballad is a fourteenth century composition of an unknown poet.  It is a folk song that has been recited even in modern times by singers like Luke Kelly. The answer-question form of the song lends it a special charm.  According to interpreters this ballad is based on the belief that graves of dead persons become “unquiet”. And the restless ghosts enact an angry or violent haunting because excessive grief prevents their leaving the earth. This belief is an ancient one, far older than the poem.  The mourner in the ballad  who mourned one year and a day  refuses to accept that his time is  is up, and as a result, “the dead began to speak”.

  

            This six centuries old ballad is an all-time relevant folk composition because of its three permanent themes of love, life and  death.

 

            First, the lover’s claim “I never had but one true-love”. This makes him incurably restless.  He can’t fill the void by having another mistress. Secondly, the inevitability of death in all nature: ‘The finest flower that ere was seen/Is withered to a stalk.”  Here, the hint is that the lovers will have the same fate as the finest flower” “The stalk is wither’d dry, my love, ’So will our hearts decay. “  Then,  what is the way for the separated lovers  to get out of unquietness  The answer is: : …make your heart content, my love./Till God calls you away.”

 

            This  ballad has surely a spiritual touch, namely, contentment alone can end unquietness. To be quiet while sticking to the physical allurements of this world is impossible.  One has to be called away to the kingdom of God after dropping all the yearnings of material life to become eternally quiet.

 

                                                            -------

 

27^th March 2022                                                         G.R.KANWAL

O ! MY FOOLISH HEART India’s greatest Urdu poet Mirza Asadullah Khan Gha

 

O ! MY  FOOLISH  HEART

                   India’s greatest Urdu poet Mirza Asadullah Khan Ghalib (1797-1869) asks in one of his ghazals :

DiI-e-nadan tujhe hua kya hai

akhir is dard ki dava kya hai

 

A simple English translation of this verse is as follows:

“O! my foolish heart , what has happened to you?  You are crying for something impossible. It is well known that whatever a lover may do, the pain of love finds no relief.  

 

            So, what should the heart do ?  Naturally, it should stop crying and continue to bear the pain . The heart is the centre of love’s pleasant and unpleasant emotions. Union between the lover and the beloved, which happens rarely, creates gratifying  feelings. In the entire love  poetry of the  world, love remains ungratified. A lover seeks a perfect alliance with his lady love, but fails to get it.  This disappointment , however painful it may be, is not to the disadvantage of the lover, because it tremendously activates his mind and imagination and turns him into a poet of  heart-touching verses.

 

 

            Ghalib became a great poet because of his unrequited love. In another heart-touching verse: he admits:

 

            Ye na thi hamari qismat ke visal-e-yar hota

            Agar  aur  jite   rahte   yahi    intizar      hota      

(Me and my lover were not destined to be united.  Long wait yielded no result.  Any further waiting, too, would have remained fruitless).

           

            Gratified love is comic. It does not touch those tragic heights which . ungratified love does. That is why all great and sublime poetry is the result  unrequited love.

                                                            --------

19^th March 2022                                    G.R.Kanwal

  

L I T T L E T H I N G S

 

L I T T L E   T H I N G S

            Little things are little in size but not in importance.  In fact, all big things are congregations of small things. A big house is a collection so many bricks.  An hour is a sum total of sixty minutes and a minute is an aggregate of sixty seconds and a second is a group of so many fractions of a second.

We cannot imagine about big things without imaging their small components.  Even our noses , whatever be their size, are combinations of numerous layers of skins. It means all big things are dependent upon their smallest possible particles. What does it mean then? We must not abhor little things.  On the contrary we must love them because without their existence big things cannot come into existence. 

According to Ecclesiasticus “He that despises small things, shall fall by little and little. “ And in the words of  Robert Smith, the English Clergy (1818-1895) , most of the critical things in life, which become the starting points of human destiny, are little things.

English Chemist, Sir  Humphrey Davy (1778-1829) makes a more striking statement when he says: Life is made up , not of great sacrifices or duties, but of little things, in which smiles and kindness and small obligations, given habitually, are what win and preserve and secure comfort.    

                English poet Martin Farquhar Tupper (1810-1889) makes us much wiser when he says: Despise not small things, either for evil or good, for a look may work thy ruin, or a word create thy wealth.---A spark is a little thing, yet it may kindle the world.

                Note unforgettably: A spark is a little thing, yet may kindle the world.

                Finally,  a short poem by American poet and author, Julia Abigail Fletcher (1823-1908). The title of her poem is:

                                                                LITTLE THINGS

 For which is best remembered till today. It was set to music and published in educational textbooks for more than half a century. It is an inspirational poem which inspires both young and old  to live every  minute  of one’s with great gusto. 

A humble minute ,says she,  is not a  humble  fraction of time. In its generative potentiality , it is  the begetter of  mighty ages and  endless eternity. Hence, we should spend it most vigorously and to the maximum benefit.

                The poem reads as follows:

Little drops of water,

Little grains of sand,

Make the mighty ocean

And the pleasant land

 

Thus the little minutes,

Humble though they be,

Make the mighty ages

Of eternity.

                                                                --------

 

17^th March 2022                                                                              G.R.Kanwal

 

 

 

SILENCE AS MYSTICS VIEW IT

SILENCE AS MYSTICS VIEW IT      

                I remember the school-days advice “Think before you speak  and look before you leap.” It is still a good piece of advice. Thoughtful speaking is far better than thoughtless utterance which may be sheer nonsense .  

Silence is a much broader subject. It has also existential and  spiritual connotations. It may not be wrong to believe that silence preserves energy and prolongs  life.   

Self-imposed silence is  both a social and spiritual discipline. We find many places like hospitals, libraries, dormitories , yoga halls, meditation centres, etc. where sound is disallowed.  

                Given below, on the importance of silence.  are the views of four  renowned mystics.

First: Guyon Madam, French mystic (1648-1717). There are three kinds of silence. Silence from words is good, because inordinate speaking tends to evil. Silence, or rest from desires and passions is still better  because it promotes  quietness of spirit. But the best of all is silence from unnecessary and wandering thoughts, because that is essential to internal recollection and because it lays a foundation for a proper reputation and for silence in other respects.

Second: Ralph Waldo Emerson, American poet, essayist, philosopher (1803-1882). What a strange power there is in silence ! How many resolutions are formed, how many sublime conquests effected, during that pause when lips are closed, and the soul secretly feels the eye of her Maker upon her ! They are the strong ones of earth who know how to keep silence when it is a pain and grief unto them, and who give time to their own souls to wax strong against temptation.  

 Third: Hazrat Inayat Khan, Indian Sufi mystic (1882-1927). There is an intoxication in activity, and nowadays activity has increased so much that from morning till evening there is never any repose, owing to our daily occupations which keeps us continually on the move.  And at night we are so  tired that we want only to sleep, and next morning the activity begins anew.  By this kind of life much is destroyed; man is so eager for his enjoyments that he does not think of the life that is there to be enjoyed.  Every person should have at least an hour a day in which to be quiet, to be still   

 Fourth: Indian mystic Bhagwan Shree Rajneesh, globally known as Osho (1931-1990). There is only one dialogue with existence and that is in silence. Try it with anything as an experiment – even with a rock. Be silent with it --- take it in your hand and be silent ---and there will be a communion. But you cannot use language with it, the rock doesn’t know any language. Because you use language, you cannot be related to it. Man has lost silence completely. When you are not doing something, you are not silent; the mind goes on doing something or other. Because of this continuous  inner talk, this continuous inner chattering, you are not  related to anything, not even to your beloved ones. Only through silence is one related.

                 And finally, as American Statesman Benjamin Franklin (1706-90) said: None preaches better than the ant, and also says nothing.

                                                                                ------

 

7^th March 2922                                                              G.R.Kanwal