(c) Sharad Chandra, 2001
The « Lake of Memory » is not one’s own mind, but the mind containing all minds. Memory is a living force that creates future and also meets the future coming towards it. Memory is just a name for livingness and time a phase of eternity.
O serene lake of memory !
O lake of crystal !
On your shores tumult of the worlds
The worlds heaving with immense sorrow
The world heaving with immense joy
O still mirror of wonders
In you the first twilight
Labyrinths of places
The flood of faces
Echoes still resounding
In you a shaman is still dancing
In you a peep-show man
Is still showing pictures
A minstrel has not finished his song
Someone’s footfall is still approaching
A roar of laughter is still heard
Morning light floods the street
And the dead cat is still lying there !
Temple bells are still ringing
A story-teller is still in the middle of the sacred epic
The rumor still persists that the mountain lake
Would burst its shore
In the middle of the night
And sweep away the city !
The giant tree stands above us
And ladden with stars
Like a dark wave it surfs about to burst
Sudden rustle is still there
And the fear withdraws into a deep place
Firm like a rock
With a strange joyous thrill and breath withheld
We still embrace the imaginary death !
And the rumor still persists
That tigers have escaped from cages
And have invaded the city
We are still at the high window
Waiting, looking into the lane !
In you there is the dance of seasons
Greens, blues and yellows
Of the hills beyond the lake
Like a potter’s wheel still revolving
Though no more strength is lent
A vanishing empire,
An age still vanishing !
The hive of the palace is still humming
There is some evil brooding
Ghosts of memory surround it
The rain has stopped
And the marble palace wears a golden evening light
Elephants, palanquins, flags, torches and soldiers
Are still moving, the king goes
To pay homage to a naked yogi
Peacocks are still dancing
And cobras are still guarding the shrine
There is a fair in the garden
The crowds are still returning home
Children are crying
Smoke curls up from the hermits’ huts
The evening star appears
Breeze moves like a noble presence
In midst of trees
Monkeys screech
Things are made of etherial silk
The rusty grills covered with creepers
The half closed garden gate, still not closed
In you O lake of crystal !
From the house of evil fame
Escapes a song, like a prayer
And draws a child to the threshold with magic hands
And makes him move the curtain aside
A mysterious beauty is still dancing
Among the men with painted beards
And stupid looks
Her eyes meet the eyes of the child
Are still meeting in you
O lake of crystal ! O serene lake !
She is a still and shy statue
She dances no more !
Here eyes are flooded with light, only for a child !
Dark hill men descend into the valley
To do their magic dance
To enliven and penetrate, alas, the too dull senses of man
To tell the city dwellers a tale
Of elements and dreams
To tell them of fire and primeval forest
Of powers, prophesies and gods
To tell them : « we are not vanquished ! »
To tell of things that only a child or a seer can see
They dance around the fire
In the city square
Invoking ancestors’ souls
And prophecising the future
Behind their masks, they eyes burn :
« we are not vanquished ! »
« You are vanquished ! By your own dull senses !
Abandoned by the light of souls »
They are still telling a tale
But who can interpret ?
Their cries send a chill through the spine
Magnetized they claim the space
Messengers of the king bring them homage
Hearing prophesies they tremble
The hillmen unchanging through ages
Watch dynasties and invaders pass
They guard the secrets that none else shall know
But we fathom their meaning in your heart
O lake of crystal ! O serene lake !
The blood of sacrifice in the temple yard
The mad house, madmen screeming, yelling
Dancing behind the bars
Handcuffed prisoners walking
And sometimes looking up
At the sickle of daytime moon
Air is drunk with golden autumnal sun
At the noontide a fiddler with bandaged feet
In tattered robes
Falls asleep in the street
The sky becomes blurred
There is a murder in the town
O serene lake ! O lake of crystal !
You guard each thing like a jewel
In you even the blood of sacrifice,
Madmen, prisoners, murderers and thiefs
Acquire a rainbow splendor
Sometimes you are a vast cobweb of rainbow and somber colors
And sometimes a universe
Reflected in dew
A play mate suddenly dies
And we still shiver in the sad morning
Face of the elders are covered with sorrow
But with a noble smile
They guard us from the world
A strange crowd arrives from a strife torn land
Noblemen wander like beggers
Pleading to the stony hearts
They occupy haunted deserted houses
Tales of horrors multiply
The town people talk with such gait and ease
As if talking of weather
And the strangers ?
Their brothers lie in pools of blood
In warm ashes of burning homes
In some far off land
It is all for a child, an hour, an eternity
The open air auction of dust covered things
Glittering like gold
It is all for one, a street scene,
A flood a faces, shadows and lights
The magicians, the acrobats, the snake-charmers and the snakes
How well you have guarded the gipsies !
Their goats and monkeys and bears !
How well you have preserved a cartwheel revolving fast !
The majestic old banyan
Is still dancing with rains and thunders
Like dancing Shiva, striking terror in hearts
The ancient banyan is still there, the image of stillness
The haunt of gods, goblins and magical snakes
The shelter of fakirs and strange sadhus
They have vanished like an unknown race
They are still arriving in you
You still guard their fires, You guard ashes and broken pots !
In you an old man is still walking
With ladder, oil pot and lantern
Night brings out heavenly lamps
And he lights lamps on the earth
We are playing hide and seek
In a moonlit maze of houses
We are still hiding and a child is still seeking us there
But here no hiding place is found
The adamant destiny has found us !
O lake in your depth you guard still another lake !
You guard the trees, the shrines on the shore
The multicoloured bathers on the steps
And giant turtles reposing
Water marks on decaying palace walls, drying moss
Old boats in their moorings gently rocking
From the bridge we watch the moonlit waters
And wild fires raging in the hills
We walked and still walk in you like princes
O magic lake !
The streets are paved with gold
And the world is bursting with joy
In the street we meet an orphan with sad unblinking eyes
The sky is suddenly covered with grief
We watch the funeral pyre on the river
And build castles with sand
The pyre is of the man
Who told us stories and distributed sweets
In you are still shining the twin stars of mother’s eyes
Her warm breath is still warm
In you still persists nurse’s lullaby
Like a murmuring brook
And you contain smells and sweet abondance
Of women we embraced yesterday
Their fresh, crisp caresses, their magic curves !
You are far more than the lake of memory
You are the quiver with unspent arrows
We must yet draw an aim at the farthest light
The arrows of purest passions
Endless is your wonder, endless our tale
Whispers of your stillness bring us joy and tears
In you the first light, the first joy
The first pulsation of life
Our first birth beyond stars
You are no lake of memory or time
These are just names
O lake of healing waters
Wounded are healed in you, dead reborn
Your kindly nature preserves the sluggish
For it is their greatest joy !
You are the living wonder
From you lights emerge
Shading away their shadows
You are no lake of memory
It is just a name
You are the cathedral of light
The cathedral of space
In you we have counted countless leaves of the world
In you we have counted countless grains of sand
In you are still revolving
The cycle of seasons we have known
In you we still perceive
The first suspicion
That there might the Season of seasons
And the wind prophesying the coming of this day
You are a lake without shores
The shore is just another name
But lo ! On your shores the Season of season, the season of life !
sharadchandra 