A Life Unparalleled

Suranad P.N. Kunjan Pillai, my dear grandfather, has been my guide and mentor throughout my life. I have had the good fortune to spend the first twenty-odd years of my life with him. Needless to say, I have been nurtured by him and inspired to follow the valuable ideals he embodied. It was he who instilled the love for languages in me, especially the Malayalam language. I had the good fortune to see and listen to the many literary geniuses and writers who used to visit him. I remember, how even amid his busy schedule, he took great interest in teaching us grandchildren whatever we could take in about Malayalam and Sanskrit literature.

The poem below is a translation of grandfather's intuiitive poem "Atmagita." He specifically asked me to translate this poem into English, and it was published in the Malayalam Literary Survey (July - September 1995) edition. I remember how happy he was with this version, and am gratified that I could do some justice to the original highly philosophical poem. In fact, this endeavour surely played a major role in shaping my future career as a translator. I bow down to my grandfather Dr. Suranad P.N. Kunjan Pillai, and submit this as a tribute to him on this website.

.... Jayasree Ramakrishnan Nair

Ode to the Self

Suranad P.N. Kunjan Pillai

Translated into English from the Malayalam original "Atmagita" by Dr. Jayasree Ramakrishnan Nair

I

Smaller than an atom is my Empire

The entire Universe inhabits it,

That divine phenomenon devoid of beginning, middle, or end

Is in this glorious daylight

Cloaked in the darkness of human ignorance.

The doors of knowledge, when closed,

The soul, self-shining

Becomes a wondrous effulgence

Beyond the limits of human cognizance.

In the centre of the Universe,

Eternal, Empty, Immeasurable, I

Thrive as the embodiment of wonder

Shine in my own soul's splendour.

II

I am the lightning

Traversing centuries

Intent on crossing

Crores of centuries.

Where shall I reach

Rushing, rushing into the past?

Rather would I gallop into the future

As a follower of Eternity.

From where, what, is my origin

What frontiers are my aim

In this eternal, adventurous wondrous journey/

I beheld,

Beheld a hundred times,

Worlds, worlds gripped in darkness

And numerous macrocosms.

The sky and its beyond

The point where the sky ends

The wondrous void, at variance

From this sky or time.

All these I traversed

As an atom in the quintessence of consciousness

And each one of these

Merged in me, the atom of awareness.

Evolving through the orbits

Of Mood, Emotion, Thought

Concept and Grief,

I, the Self, have arrived here

As a living form.

And what is life after all? A collage of joy and sorrow

Nothing but a mirage.

Imperfect is this Universe

And this world, a beautiful particle of sand,

Is only an illusory dream!

I salute this earth, this delusive illusion

Which entangles the Self

Within its magic.

III

In the beginning there was nothing

Then came matter

It attained a form, was blessed with life

Mere dust thus became glorious, vivacious.

From dust to crawling worm,

To bird, and thus evolution

Went on and on to blessed manhood,

What is Man? The one True Phenomenon

In this Universe.

What is Man? A ray of light

Amidst the cycles of birth and death.

IV

I entered this world

In my protective vessel, my body

Fitted with the five

Minute instruments of sense.

Terrible the gateway

Into this world.

Terrible the womb-sojourn

A prison-life in hell “Ruru.”

Free as I was, roaming the Universe

Draped in my travelling attire,

Shocking was the descent,

I fell, crying out loud.

That cry, ha! Marked the dawn

Of this life, this pageant dream

In that perturbed perplexity

Of the colossal blow,

I, the adventurer, in disguise

I, the mendicant, in search of liberation

Witnessed the wonder of the universe.

V

Attaining this strange land,

By surprise was I blinded

My consciousness struck numb with anxiety,

I fell easy slave to the world.

Where am I the Universal Roamer,

Where am I now, like a miserable worm

Dependent entirely on anything, everything

On earth.

From mother’s breast, hand

From cradle to sand

Then when I stood up, ascended,

Alas! By bonds, desires, hopelessness

Was I a mere child

Of this Earth.

Passed from my mind

All that was past

Nothing was there

As great as this Earth, thought I.

This prison-house, my body

Became a pleasure spot

This world, a wonder

Merged as an ocean of pleasurable bliss.

VI

The vehicle I chose

For my worldly journey

Beneficial in each stage –

Childhood, teens, youth and old age—

Breakable, pleasurable

Oppressed by the burden of misery.

In this clay-pot

Is there a machine,

Blowing air on its own,

And in power no less, other minor instruments as well,

Wondrous, hardy instruments of knowledge.

This body moves freely,

Grasps worldly wonders gradually

And rocks the cradle of human life.

Active by daylight,

Dormant at night,

Blooms, shines in its vigour

But eventually wears out.

The body at last,

Acquires wear and tear,

The Self, the Light, deserts it

And the rest is nothing.

Among such crores of vehicles of life,

I, an insignificant one, behold

An oasis, a mirage.

VII

I, an atom of lively Bliss,

Why, Oh why, had I dared this journey,

Trapped in this vehicle

Bearing the yoke of misery?

Attracted by the face of the earth,

Blinded by the tempting illusion,

Lo! This confused, agitated self

Forgot its journey’s ultimate ends.

The one goal now became

To enjoy ceaselessly

The illusory banquet of the world.

Pursuing the feet of passions,

In revelry, desires, hopes and excitement,

In miseries, labours, failures, and triumphs.

The pursued goals I attained on some occasions

But alas! This world’s magic

Mostly ends in hopelessness.

I run after the lighting of desire,

Ploughing the surrounding air,

In abrupt flashes.

Life is a pleasurable madness

When I pursue this embodiment of Happiness,

Who runs, throwing glances behind, smiling.

I run, bearing the brute yoke

The burden of objects, playful, fanciful,

Piled beside objects of hope, greed and fear.

I run in haste, along the pathway

Flanked by the climbers of Love, showering their blossoms

But I am attacked, pained

By the keen arrows of hate, rivalry.

VIII

Me, the sleepwalker

Whose occult hands hold my puppet-strings?

What is my high goal?

Whither this journey?

Alas! Why is this worm

Tied by the strands of Time

And whirled in the circle

Of this Macrocosm?

Am I yet to sojourn

As part of my trials

In the secret worlds

Strange to human consciousness?

Whose crazy sport is this

This cruel pastime,

Ha! Can this world be

Lovely but senseless?

Mother Earth! Salutations!

You are the dance-hall of Life

Oh! Goddess, forgive me

I acknowledge your graciousness.

If I am the atom of Truth

In this dream-life,

Truth you are too,

Or if I am the untruth

Then what indeed is the Truth?

Urged by sportiveness, I started from somewhere

Eternal Bliss awaits me on my return there.

This path of sorrow

Am I, bemused, to orbit

Until I merge in that Eternal Truthful Bliss.

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