Once upon a time there was a traveling salesman. He used to tell the Vedas on retail basis. He used to prasang [indulge in discourse] at various venues, for a fee. Introduction to rig, two-hours, 3 cents for firangs. (4 annas 4 Indians). The books were for free. Merriman Webster was thrilled about the deal and booked (let us call him now and hence, Sankara) for four seasons.
In summer, Sankara fired Chile for 2 dollars an hour one season. Book signing was extra. Tattoos for free. It was like Woodstock, it was like campus life. It was like youth and love; and like the one act play called waiting for tomorrow.
Sankara used to collect only so much as he required for the day. When his bowl was full, he would say No Thanks, to anyone who offered him more. The checks for signing books and for providing private tuition went to merriman and the devil. And to Daniel Webster.
And so he lived happily ever after, in the footnotes of Gita translations. Those who love stories with a happy ending (those who love love stories with several happy endings) can sign off now.
[the following is not for the weak-willed; tune off now!]
Mainly, Sankara used to travel and talk a lot. He traveled all over India, America, and the far east. When in India, he used to call himself Sankara [good catch: I thought I was the one who named him, as the author. Not so.]; in America, despite his protests, they called him Vive! Kananda. And in the far east, they know him as the laughing Buddha. All his life he spent talking, in travel, with no time to laugh or to forget. Still some call him the clown.
He was a pensive, inexpensive traveling salesman of the Vedas: 5 cents for a two-hour discourse on desire in mid career to 2 dollars an hour at the peak of his power: 4 a.m. on days the full moon is about to sink. He talked about Maya.
when time approaches you, your grammars and styles
[duhkhinkarana-s] will not save you Wren
Boy did he preach, did he prasang!
He would preach the bible like a preacher full of ecstasy and fire
He was also such a lovely creature, women would desire
Rasputin and Lenin, russia’s greatest love makers did aspire
One day to steal promethean fire; he [them] did inspire
In his able salesmanship, the Vedas found followers in lands far afield, found favor with beautiful women; notably: Jane Fonda [yoga is action: hatha (body in action); karma (ergs/energy: therefore work and action); bhakti (knowledge-driven action)] and Julia Roberts. Of whom, more later.
Lenin is said to have been inspired by Sankara (but we are not sure about this. Perhaps it was Raj Kapoor who shaped Lenin’s imagination in an obverse fashion).
For himself, Sankara had a loin cloth, a charpai, and a kettle for boiling noodles. He was known as the two-minute chef. He was also known for his two-hour speeches. Sankara, in short (or in briefs) was a happy man. Oh well, in his loin cloth. In times when the moon shone, Sankara spoke legibly.
Those who like happy endings, love or no love, here is where you get off.
[By the way, this is a retelling of Mohandas gandhi’s story of how he went to Pitts and learnt to play the violin. If you read on, I promise you will be a wiser, if sadder human.]
One day a mouse enters the ashram. The vedic salesman did not mind sharing his abode with ganesha’s mount. And shortly after, he found that his loin cloth had holes in it. He had to get rid of the mouse, and so he gets a cat.
Now the cat needs milk so he begs the people at the prasang for a cow. To take care of the cow, especially when he is away traveling on offshore speaking engagements, the prasangis offer him a cow and a woman whom marries and ends up with four children. [Those who like sad endings can end it all here.]
And he lived happily ever after? Maybe. But is it right for a vedic salesman to retire and lead a happy life – back from vaanaprastha to gaarhasthya? Who will keep the Vedas dry until a generation of intelligent people take shape on earth, if vedic traveling salesmen were to disappear from earth? Who will take care of the cow?
Will the wisdom of yore be buried under the earth for the dearth of salesmen and wandering speakers? for want of walkers and walkmen?
==
Take a while to ponder over those questions. And be back, in a while, to listen out the story…
The whole story takes an ugly turn now. Instead of traveling around the globe, Sankara decides to speak at home. He thinks his children would take the four Vedas to the pinnacle of their applicability and productivity – in good time.
But Macaulay had other plans. He wrote a minute document that ruined Indian psyche. See the Minute on Indian Education: http://www.languageinindia.com/april2003/macaulay.html#minute
But he also said these lovely lines, did Macaulay:
"To every man upon this earth
Death cometh soon or late.
And how can man die better
Than facing fearful odds,
For the ashes of his fathers,
And the temples of his gods?"
Enough digression; back to the epic/legend of satguru sankara
So Sankara’s children did not care for saama, rk, or yajuh. The fourth child, given to technical gizmos, whom Sankara tried to put into marketing toy cars and AK 47s – even that boy did not show any interest or aptitude for adharva, the practical veda.
Sankara was disheartened and produced two daughters. One went on to become Miss India, sadly. She spent all her life selling Charity. She could have taken tie-and-dry clothes to prada and donna karan, but she chose charity shows.
Sankara, naada sareera para; veda vihara hara; what of the sisters who sell dishwashers and dishwater [pespi, or is it phanta?]
The other went over the cuckoo’s nest.
Can KG replace pound, Ezra?
No comments:
Post a Comment