शरद कोकास की लम्बी कविता 'देह' का अनुवाद
ORIGINAL POEM (Published in ‘PAHAL 104’ By Shri GYANRANJAN in 2016 ) written by : SHARAD KOKAS
Translation in english by Dr HEMANT GEHLOT
Day was not like a
day,
nor was night like
a night,
Earth, it was not
like the earth,
nor did the sky look
like a sky;
the cry of some
children
was echoing in the
whole cosmos;
Dissolving from
the body of the sun
dripped down fire,
and the body, of
the new planets,
was taking birth.
Earth was the only
sister amongst her brothers,
whose fertile womb
carried the seeds of the future,
and
the moon was her one and the only son,
ready to settle a
separate home for him since birth.
Here, there was
infinite amazement in the eyes of the sky-
that the newly
born body of the earth
in her attempts to
come back to its original shape,
Was continuously
changing itself into
Rivers, mountains,
oceans and rocks.
Her breast is
filled to the brim with chemicals,
and she is
breathing-in the air
mixed with
methane, nitrogen and oxygen.
It was the time
for the body
When there existed
no word for the body;
The idea of the
body
was nurturing in
the shape of Amoeba,
in his own
divinity, he was the creator of his own body
which produced
genes in every body,
Deoxyribonucleic
acid1, in its denseness,
Kept creating
every organ,
from the nail of
the toe to the hair,
which in every
living creature despite being similar
could never be
similar;
which never came
down into their progeny like the father,
nor from that
progeny into their next offspring.
Where was the cold
breeze yesterday
that made our body
shudder
in the cool nights
of the winter;
this soil was not
there yesterday,
nor was this sky,
the water flowing in
the river today
was not there
yesterday,
Likewise it was
not in the body in its own times,
None, nowhere was
fixed, which fraction of it
will immerse in
which body, in what form,
in the laboratory
of the earth,
which part will
become blood, which flesh,
which chemical
will be responsible for which cell,
was not decided
till then.
In the chirping of
the birds
and the bubbling
of the fish
was there the
first call of life for the body
sometimes that seemed
coming from the space
and sometimes from
the shallow waters of the oceans
which carried an
urge for accompaniment
in the journey of
the future.
The journey
together of the body and the life
which is going on
since millenniums,
where it moved
identically,
flickers the face
of some familiar ancient forefathers,
among the faces of
men,
how many infinite torments
through which passed this body
before reaching
the shape of the body of the modern man.
How, overcoming
his own abilities and surprises,
he would have
created the formulae of the rules of the body,
how did he prove,
the usefulness of
life in the body,
how did he mold
the organs of man and woman
in different
shapes
and decided their
role in life?
Looking at a mole
on our face in the mirror
can we ever think,
one of our
forefathers had on his face
a similar mole
exactly at the same place?
In our laughing
and giggling
is hidden the
smile of our granny or grandma;
on the forehead of
our great grandparents
the folds would’ve
occurred at the same place
as fall on our
forehead too?
In the courtyard
of time,
there were till
yesterday,
the shadows of our
forgotten ancestors
which have become
invisible with their bodies;
knowing nay, even
thinking is very difficult
that they looked
exactly alike us;
like the movements
our organs made,
were their organs,
whose bodily
characteristics
were like the
attributes of our own bodies
and they also
followed the same sense of duty to body
that we follow
today.
A puzzle this body
of man is,
for the sages,
saints scientist and thinkers,
Body, that is for
centuries,
is trying to
search for its own solutions –
which takes birth
as a living being
and grows by
taking food from the surroundings
passing through
the process of reproduction continuously
inviting the eyes
of all the inquisitives
in her own dark
caverns and mysterious vales
pulling towards
her in her own strangeness,
and producing
dullness as the attraction ends.
Thither, in a
laboratory
peeping through
the glass jar
the body of the
embryo
which is donated
by some other body
narrates the story
of the time before its birth,;
under the
microscope,
smile the cells in
a platter
we are life, body
too is because of us,
cells that are
live inside a living body,
and lifeless
outside this body,
yet they can give
birth to new cells,
without the help
of a soul.
Through the
circular ladders of the pages of reports
and the big bulky
books,
come down some
research stories,
that neither the
birth of the body nor the death
can occur in one
attempt,
some cells take
birth at the time of birth,
grow in proportion
to the developing organs,
as the moon, the
sunlight grow, so grows the body
they are at the
peak when the body is at the peak,
then stepping down
from the peak in body’s tiredness,
slowly break down
the cells of the body;
give up at the age
when the organs also start giving up,
and one day die
with the death of the same body;
desires and
feelings sat in the nest of mind,
the lusts of man
die with the death of body,
and never take
birth again,
yet each body is
afraid of dying,
and because of
this fear, dies every day.
There is a strange
world within this body
like our eternal
mother-earth,
carrying many
secrets in its womb,
which eyes see and
the tongue explains,
wherein sway the vast
oceans of tears,
the sound of the falls
is heard in its giggles,
rocks emerge in
the muscles and melt,
winds carouse the
hands and skin feels it,
circumnavigating its
own world with feet,
and they (feet) living
in it carry its own weight,
sprouting hair
follicles turn into dense forests,
pathways through
wild terrains lead to strange worlds.
In its (body’s)
youth, overflowing like a river,
breasts growing up
like mountains,
the aroma emitted
out of the sweat glands
develops the sourness
of the ocean,
the humidity of
the rain-forests absorbing across the lips,
sensitivity
entering with a boat in the rivers of blood,
and does not
entangle in the web of the veins,
innumerable
volcanoes inflamed in its mind,
with continuous
quivering in the heart and fire in the belly
in the dualism of
blessings and curses of the nature
while it
invigorates in the embrace of the seasons,
it also bears the
breaking attacks of the calamities.
Not just body, it
is the terra firma of man
and its external
beauty
is actually because
of its interior,
when the lava
bubbles up
in the internal
canals of the earth
criss-crossing to
burst out any moment,
it rises up with
the noise of billions of lives
to them the sea
provides place in the depths of its bottom
mingling with
whose tranquil waters it creates the body.
Like meaning
hidden inside the meanings,
countless meanings
are hidden in the world of this body,
these are the same
eyes that are filled
with water upon
hearing of some agony,
and which turn
away suddenly
when the selfish
motto is over;
the feet trying
all-life to stand on earth
don’t stay on
earth in their own ego,
these are the same
hands
that rise up
repeatedly in prayers
which often hit
hard a poor person,
the belly that
keeps the body alive
although ignores itself
forces one to shamefully
compromise for itself;
the ears open to
listen to the slightest sound
are shut to the
shrieks of the oppressed,
the mind that
worries for the betterment of the world
goes high to the
mountains in its conceit,
the spinal column
that stands erect always in the back
stoops down at the
threshold of the oppressors.
Not just this much
is the meaning of the body in the body
every organ’s
independence exists even in its dualism,
because the body
is not different
in its entirety,
just as hands
detached from the body cannot be called body
not detached legs
have the right to be called body,
the utility of the
body
lies in its social
system,
where hands earn
bread for the stomach
when ears listen
to a cry, legs run forward,
even for the grief
of others breaking the banks
of the eyes, tears
flow through.
becoming the voice
of the voiceless, words break out.
the
responsibilities of other bodies are
included in the
responsibilities of a body.
In this body’s
hope
Glimmer the dreams
of other bodies.
To let this body
flourish, the other body withers,
for the promotion
of ours
and those
dependent on our body
like a commodity,
a body is even sold in the market.
When compassion
breaks its limits,
to enter into the
duty,
no question mark
is placed nowhere
for the usefulness
of the body.
It waves like
trees in the happiness of its very being,
climbs up the
mountains beyond its capacities,
quavering like a
breeze and overflowing like river,
roaring like the
clouds rolling as the spring-water,
fiery like fires,
fragrant like the flowers,
tipsy like wine,
listens the poem
of some poet,
and realizing
inside the very being of life within,
doesn’t shy away
the pleasant seclusion,
which cannot
identify the true delight,
and neither so
shameless that can feel,
delight amidst the
periods of grief,
nor even so
sentimental,
that moved by
pain, it vainly melts,
irrespective of its
discreteness ,
in the backdrop of
its biological desires,
for social
responsibilities earned with basic ragas,
this is the body
of the human being,
in whose millions
and billions of cells,
is registered an
untold tale which is,
in the back of all
events with its own influence.
It was a body
shivering with cold which for the first time,
was given warmth
of caress by the beams of the sun,
and the body must
have expressed gratefulness to the sun;
The cold breeze
must have given relief ,
to the body
burning with the scorching heat of the sun;
the body must have
said thanks to the cold breeze;
In its own fire
the body must’ve danced with the rain,
must’ve jumped up
with the drops in the courtyard of glee
and told the
downpour – I’m grateful to you!
it must have
gladdened by someone’s soft touch;
The whole being must
have blossomed
when a kiss was
planted on its lips,
just as the body
entered the body proper,
countless drums of
clouds must’ve played in the nerves,
getting absolved
of the realizations of the body,
the body must have
told the body – Thanks.
Just like that,
it’d been overwhelmed with the pleasure of creation
spread like the
agriculture field for the seeds;
It kept blowing
like smoke through the chimneys of the factories
burnt in the
sunlight nurtured in the mind
with caress of the
mother and affection of the father;
with best wishes
of friends,
in the light of
the blessings of the elders,
its journey
continued,
wherein at every
halt, in different chapters,
the story of this
very body is registered,
in various forms,
events, on the pages of history,
because anything
that happened in the world,
happened on this
body only –
from creation to
the destruction,
infinite stories
are inscribed on its skin.
it’s buried
beneath some ancient tomb,
it has scars of
the wounds by a lance in the rib,
billions of
shrieks are stuck in its throat,
in resisting the
untimely death restless to come out.
The head of the Kurush2 calls from the castle of Babylon 3
relieve, relieve
me from this blood-filled leather sac;
the sound of a
slave arises from
the graves dug at
the banks of the Huang Ho4;
Its odor comes out
of the burnt ruins of the Troy;
from the steep
slopes of the Alps mountains
slides down its sighs;
be it Panipat5 or Karbala6, or Alexandria7 or Samarkand8,
throughout the
world when night arrives in a battlefield,
its image is seen
in the backdrop of the darkness
whose hands, legs
and heads are cut off.
The way through
which passes,
the hunger for
unending empire,
it hangs on the
trees on that very way,
accumulating
empathies,
of the passersby
for its martyrdom;
As a voice of
resistance
it’s dangling on
the noose
in the revered
monuments
of Hiroshima9 and Nagasaki10;
Coming out of the
gas chambers11,
suffering from the
fear of radiation for generations,
is its own untold
agony;
its suffocation is
spreading throughout the world,
saving itself from the eyes of the imperialistic
vultures,
it exists in the
dry well of the Jalianwalah Bagh12.
No one knows on
how many strings,
tied to the mouths
of the guns,
are stuck the lumps
of its flash,
none knows how
many legs of the elephants
are smeared with its
blood,
over whose freshly
illumined surface
is seen the image
of injustice.
There on the
Turkman Gate 13
amidst the crushed
utensils,
carrying wounds of
deception, deceit,
hypocrisy and
unfulfilled promises
lies a body
squashed by bulldozers;
A body breaths
amid poisonous airs,
running, gasping,
has collapsed
at the door of the
Union Carbide14.
With surprise in its
mangled eyes,
in front of the
Nurani mosque in Naroda Patia,15
it is lying;
Its splendor of
helplessness can be seen,
In the valleys of Kashmir,
its outcry is
heard
in the bells of
the temples and azaan.
Till now the odor
is smelt of this fire-burnt (body)
in the chapati
baked in the tandoor16 of
the lust.
It’s hanging in
the forest from a tree,
it lies alongside
of the train-track mangled;
it’s thrown away
from a moving bus 17
with the anguish
of being robbed of all sensibilities;
in its inertness
close to a killer-door18,
somewhat close to
lifelessness lies a living body,
another body
touching the heights of egoistic machismo,
has long left away
after sexually abusing it.
For the body
controlled by
its own infinite
yearnings
there is no fence
of morality.
Its footprints lie
on the surface of the moon,
it is restless to put
the soil of Mars
on its forehead,
its imperialistic
eyes fall upon all the planets,
rein-less, it
trots in the atmosphere,
every nook and
corner of the space is under its vision.
It is impatient to
have a fight with the sun,
its insane
laughter,
echoes through the
highest pinnacles of its abilities.
Body I am, in
control of my definitions,
I’m Earth, I’m
Sky, I’m Space,
Sun, moon, stars,
planets - I’m all,
my hands are miles-long
and I can measure
the three worlds with my feet,
I am the bundle of
power,
I am the system of
all systems,
I am the all
powerful,
future, past,
present,
this world is
because of me,
this world took
birth with my birth,
the existence of
this world depends on my very being,
this world will
die with me only,
in all my
consciousness in the whole cosmos,
I declare,
An-al-haq, an-al-haq,
an-al-haq.19
Amid the dense
dark deadly ideas,
every night a
frightening truth pops its head up,
in the dream it(the body) is seen being carried on four
shoulders;
on the path of
illusion run desires for immortality,
It (the body) couldn’t stop the final
journey of its own corpse,
the living corpses see the final destiny of the body,
bellowing rises up
through millions of throats
Impossible,
impossible,
we never thought
of such a destiny of this body,
we had set the
victory flag,
over the castle of
death,
we’d arrived at
the pinnacle of knowledge,
fearlessly, we
were disbursing
the attained
knowledge throughout the world,
nature is our
slave, science is our servant,
no, no, this
defeat is not acceptable to us.
my voice drowns in
the silence
borne out of my
own noise,
weeping breaks up
even in sleep
and turns into slokas,
Sharir madhyam khalu dharm sadhanam,
Khalu dharm sadhanam, sharir madhyam.
(body is the best medium of obeisance to
religion)
Where are you
Kalidas – the creator of Kumarsambhav,
where is your
interpretation of body-relations;
Where are you O Vatsayan: you looked for the meaning
of life,
in various angles
of the body;
Where are you O Charvak,
desiring all the
pleasures in this very world,
for the
pain-bearing body,
considering body itself
to be the first and the last truth
in you
anachronism, O Buddha, where are you
?
where are you Darwin, and where Fox, Haldane, Oparin20,
Sir Hargovind Khurana21, where
are you?
No answer comes
from the voice of the dead body,
no reply comes
from the caverns of philosophy,
from the huge mansions
of science
no sound comes;
audible in the
utter silence of the crematorium
is the tir, tir, the sound of the burning wood;
an odor sprawls
around of the burnt forehead;
an unanswered question
darts away in the smoke,
an eternal
question gets buried in the soil;
man rabba ka, maa deeno ka
maa kunta takolo phee hahjal rajhool22
who is your god,
what is your religion,
as long as you
were alive O Species-of-man!
what did you say
about these?
What kind of
despair it is,
which just at the
birth of the body,
turns into the
thought of death,
whose black shadow
lies on the pages of the scriptures,
around which hover
the verses of Vedas;
Aakhirat23 carries all the good wishes
for its benevolence;
Injil24 states its expulsion from the
paradise;
a whole sky calls
for its support in Tawrat24;
with the illusion
of getting beyond words in words,
this is the
literature of possession of unseen over seen,
and this is
created by that body that is visible.
This is the
trumpeting of supremacy
in the
battleground of the philosophy,
where the
proclamations
of the physicalism26
and the spiritualism27,
are so
intermingled,
that it’s
difficult to define the original resonance.
The body is
mortal, son; worrying it is meaningless,
In a fleeting
world, the body is only an illusion,
This is doomed to
come and go,
The human body is
produced out of sin,
it must end,
it’s just a coat
of the soul
the dirt of which
we need to wash,
beware of the soul
man! Rest all is mere soil,
everything ends
with the end of the body.
The demons of the
voices guffaw in the air;
drip down from the
screens of TV and mobile,
the saps that send
the body to sweet sleep,
in the
unconsciousness of the subconscious,
continuously
strike
the hammers of the
words,
and separate the
mind from eyes and ears.
On waking up comes
a call from the body,
hunger at its peak
figures out the stomach,
when the sky is
seen through the roof of the hut,
even the mouth
that is shut asks a question:
why so many big
mansions for that body,
temples, costly
clothes, sumptuous food,
while it is
arbitrary and shapeless.
why there are in
the world
grief, worries and
poverty,
when money is the
basis of all delight,
why everything lies
with a select a few,
and rest all the
people are unemployed and useless.
In the noise of
cymbals, drums and guitars,
are crushed all
voices,
the only thing
audible is
the Aakashwani coming from the mansions.
This body,
swallowing the poison hidden
within the capsule
of ambrosia,
the tongue of the
people
living in the
guise of deities,
for the mortal and
destructive body in this world,
do not desire
happiness O man!
You are just a toy
in the hands of the Almighty,
for you the dust
and the ash is your final bed,
all the gates of
heaven will open for you,
May you have a
place in the paradise!
May God bless you
my child!
May thy soul rest
in peace!
In the inner dense
darkness is heard,
footsteps of the
sounds moving to and fro,
in the dilemma of
touching or segregating from them,
this living body
gains movement along with them,
and striking
against the rocks of reality,
collapses in the
valleys of pain.
There are many
alluring scenes,
in the screens of
these voices,
not of this world
only,
but of the so
called other worlds too,
where luxuries are
reserved for all the virtuous bodies,
ah! the cascades
of honey, ah! the carpets of velvet,
Huron Gilmat28, fairies, the delicate tastes
of happiness.
Likewise, definite
tortures of hell for the sinful body,
Ugh! ferocious
fires, Ugh! bellowing pyres.
In the spluttering
pages of the scriptures and sermons,
hell is living
under the kingdom of heaven.
Where there is
rule of the body
passing
successfully through the bridge Sirat29,
over the body left
behind;
where it’s sure in
this world and that world
to be punished
twice for the same crime;
the heaven of the
rulers is here as well as there,
the hell of the
ruled is here as well as there,
tickets in this
new millennia are available
for those who want
to travel to the heaven alive,
the bodies that
want to go to heaven,
may please be
seated here in this new airplane,
the flights head
towards Caribbean Islands and Hawaii,
this plane goes to
Las Vegas30 and Bangkok;
those doomed to go
to hell,
all the neglected,
deprived and sinful bodies,
dragging their wounded
feet go that way,
these drains lead
to the slums of Dharavi.31
Here
is a huge empire of lies and hypocrisy,
Which is built by
some bodies
after centuries of
a long hard work,
where, in return of
one pain of this birth,
substitutes for joy
of many imagined births are available,
desires blinded by
the fascination of this body
wish to take birth
in the same body again,
the coffers of
sages provide the means to fulfill those desires,
or readymade
solutions for the relinquishment of the desires,
women’s desire for
subsequent seven births with the same body,
men’s longing for
the new woman-body in this very birth,
because he has himself made the rules,
this market of
desires is at its peak,
where, on one
hand,
the union of body
with the other body,
is the best vocationing
of life,
the best
entertainment is,
battle between
body and body,
whenever some
Spartacus32 or Valentine rises up,33
to crush this kingdom
of cruelty ,
his body is hung
on the cross,
thrown in front of
the hungry dogs,
dipped in the
bowls of poison,
crushed beneath
the foot of an elephant.
This is the fire
of the unseen future of the body,
Which flares in
the mind of the man,
in whose unfelt
heat
is searing the
present (time) of the numb body;
at the same time,
those for the soul
with their irrefutable
arguments,
in the emptiness
of words of the bodists and materialist,
are engrossed in studying
the a-physical
presence of the soul.
This is a sparkle
of the existence of the non-existent,
where is lost the
realism realized every moment,
that nothing
remains of the man after death,
that this body is
not controlled by the spirit,
and the end of
this body is the end of the soul too;
surprising, in the
absence of the soul, this body
is so ignorable
for them as it’s just dust.
O people who cry
soul for everything,
know, this world
is adorned for body only;
The day is not far
when the rich people of the world,
will buy in the
market the Genes of their own choice,
and transplant
them in the body of their own choice,
a separate world
there would be of such bodies,
where at the
threshold of death,
there wouldn’t be
inevitable events like –
breathing their
last untimely,
where there won’t
be dragging of feet
for walking
per-force,
there wouldn’t be
blurred pictures of past
in the cataract
infested eyes,
there won’t be
patches cracking with grief
under the wrinkles
of the skin,
a deadly world
would have taken birth
from the womb of
time,
where there would
be all bliss only for some bodies,
body would be
split into two divisions of the same species.
The sky of the
body presently
is shadowed by a
torrential despair,
where the dazzle
of science
is playing its
games,
yet it is not
possible until now
to produce a body
without the help of a body,
though the body of
iron is made by man,
and even put life
into it,
which can broom
our house,
make our beds,
sing a lullaby,
but just cannot
love the other body.
It is not under
the control of the body,
that has reached
the pinnacle of its ego,
to keep under
control the limit of life of the body,
future holds the
daggers of the past,
and in front of
you is your own innocent body,
this ego of body
develops in various images,
sometimes
self-pity, sometimes self-love, sometimes self-deception,
passing through
them it reached to self-slaughter.
In the prime
ecstasy of inflicting pain to others,
it wants to enter
into the other body by becoming iron,
wants to
annihilate the other body-proper,
and many a times
it has
no weapon
available other than its own body,
this is the
hypnosis of the end of destiny in antithesis,
where body alone
is responsible for the fall of the body.
However, this
isn’t the only final destiny of the body,
In between the
unending possibilities
of love with one’s
own body
and hate with
one’s own body –
a body lies in the
morgue
ready to be
insulted,
one is becoming
the morsel of vultures,
one that is eaten
by the fishes,
one is scattered
in pieces in the air,
one is thrown to
flames of fire,
one is lying on
the footpath amidst own faeces,
juxtaposed to
these gruesome pictures of nature,
one body is kept
amidst students of medical science,
haloing itself
with the pride of body-donation ,
lighting up the
path of man’s introspection.
Voices come out of
the body
laid on man’s
stage of curiosity:
compassion coming
out of its definition
is crying
bitterly,
the roaring
emerges out of the sky,
the clamoring
echoes in the airs,
save…save…save,
save electricity,
save energy,
trees, air, water,
forest, tiger, bird, save all,
if possible, for
the sake of devout humanity
save this body.
Through the fluid
in the mind swims thinking
mainly the
theories of permanent and impermanent,
where words such
as earth-heaven, soul-oversoul,
are going up and
down,
the dreams of
salvation taking shapes
in the smoke
emitting out of the Yagnakund
to save the body
there are
recitations of Mahamrityunjay slokas34,
prayers mumble
through azaans and bells,
in the midst of
this undefined business of the body,
like every day the
sun rises,
which though seems
like setting down
yet not setting
down,
remainder
vis-à-vis complete are successful
in maintaining
their illusion.
The air still
blows in the blue-valley
that caressed the
body on its first birthday,
in the sand of
immortality is being born
the idea of the
evergreen body,
and in expecting a
boon of the gods,
for the hope of
life to return once again,
research is
underway on the mummies,
lying safe under
the pyramids.
The idea of being
alive and safe from all troubles
for the progeny of
the mother is playing in her lap,
she is placing on its
forehead,
a black mark of
benediction,
in her blessing is
immersing her compassion,
the father sees
his rebirth in his own progenies
thus the lineage
of the body is continuing constantly.
And in the age of
corporeal consciousness,
where to maintain
the body,
while it is
difficult to manage the bare food for a day,
there are ample
attractions to destroy the body,
at the same time there
are bazaars
worried over the
body-proportion,
chemicals and
herbs claiming metamorphosis (of the body),
for the repair and
break-downs,
expensive medical
shops,
for whom the
biggest ailment of the world is,
the fat accumulating
slowly, gradually on the belly
for them are
advertisements of
yoga and gym
machines,
it is the desire
of the body
not just to
maintain itself
but also to keep
itself safe for their body-owners.
Now, the dangers
hover around in the shape of forecasts;
Attempts to turn
body into machines are continuing,
the idea of
destruction is being nursed before creation,
the body itself is
conspiring against the body,
by bearing the
deadly explosive of religion in the mind,
the body is
becoming a pile of amputated hands, legs and heads,
the body itself is
provoking the other body,
For its own destruction
which is being
named self-sacrifice.
---------
-------------- ---------- -------- --
ORIGINAL POEM ‘DEH’ BY :
SHARAD KOKAS
TRANSLATED BY :HEMANT GAHLOT: UJJAIN
REFERENCES
1.
DNA : Deoxyribo nuleic Acid is a strand like molecule that is present in
the chromosomes of the living cell and contains biological instructions that
make each species unique.
2.
KURUSH : About 576 BC, the emperor of Persia known as Cyrus
the Great who was revenged by the empress of Iran, Tomyris for killing her son.
She beheaded him and put his head in a sac filled with blood.
3.
BABYLON: A famous city of ancient Mesopotamia which was ruled
by Emperor Hammurabi from 1792-750 BC.
4.
HUANG HO: The famous yellow river of China which is known for
graves found at its banks.
5.
PANIPAT: This place is famous for three battles fought
between Babar and Lodhi in 1526, Akbar and Hemu in 1556 and Ahmad Shah Abdali
and Maraths in 1761.
6.
KARBALA: A town some 100 hundred kilometers in North-south
from Bagdad, the capital of Iran. This is famous because the grandson of Hazrat
Paigamber, Imam Hosen and his family were sacrificed here.
7.
ALEXANDRIA: In 331 BC, when Alexander set out on vanquishing the
whole world, he settled a city in Egypt called Alexandria which is known for
its Greek Culture.
8.
SAMARKAND : A historical city in Ujbekistan, established by
Taimur, the Mangol King of Turkey. Babar
came to India through Samarkand.
9.
HIROSHIMA: A city in Japan where America dropped the first
atomic bomb named ‘little boy’ on August
6, 1945.
10.
NAGASAKI: A city in Japan where America dropped the second
atomic bomb named ‘fat man’ on august
9, 1945 which killed about eighty thousand people.
11.
GAS CHAMBER: The infamous Gas Chambers of Hitler where he
brutally exterminated Jews and
Communists.
12.
JALIANWALA BAGH: A garden in Amritsar where
the soldiers of Gen Dyer killed thousands of helpless men, women and children
on April 13, 1919.
13.
TURKMAN GATE: The famous place in New Delhi where bulldozers
crushed the huts in April 1976 during Emergency in India and killed those that
opposed it.
14.
UNION CARBIDE: A chemical factory in Bhopal, India, from where
leaked the poisonous gas called MIC which killed thousands of people and an
equal number of population fell sick after inhailing that fatal gas.
15.
NARODA PATIA: A place in Ahmadabad where thousands of people were
killed during the violence of 2002.
16.
TANDOOR KAND: Delhi’s famous Naina Sahani
murder case where her body was cut into pieces after killing her and then baked
in a Tandoor.
17.
NIRBHAYA CASE: The deadly incident of Delhi where a female student
was raped and then thrown out of a moving bus.
18.
THE KILLER GATE: The historically famous place in Delhi where the
sons of Shah Jafar were killed and where lots of refugees were killed during
partition. It is known for murdering
people. Recently in 2002 it was closed after a medical student was rapped and
killed here by three hoodlums.
19.
AN-AL- HAQ: I am the
supreme truth. The Sufi saint Mansur Al Hallaj was put on the cross for
uttering these words in 922AD by the followers
who believed that God is the
truth.
20.
HALDANE JB AND OPARIN: The former British-Indian
scientist who in 1920 proposed the theory of origin of life through chemical
reactions of the inanimate chemicals while the later, a Russian scientist,
propagated the same year that though life was first born out of the inanimate
chemicals but the subsequent life originated from the similar living organisms
only.
21.
SIR HARGOVIND KHURANA: The Nobel laureate of 1968
who discovered the genetic code of the cells and synthesized the same in the
laboratory.
22.
MAN RABBA KA …..: An Arabic verse which is recited at the time of
burial and which says – Who are you? What
is your religion? Who is your god? It is believed that when a person dies
and entered into the earth, the angels ask him question with regard to his
religion and god and accordingly the placement in Hell or Heaven is determined.
23.
AAKHIRAT: According to the Sacred Quran, all the spirits of
the bodies shall be released on the Aakhirat day (probably something related to
the Christian belief of Doomsday) and based on their deeds shall be adjudged
for Hell or Heaven.
24.
INJIL: Another word for Christian Bible. The story goes
that Adam and Eve were expelled out of the paradise for indulging into bodily
pleasures.
25.
TAWRAT: The book of Jews handed over to Hajrat Musa by God.
26.
PHYSICALISM: The body, the nature and everything else is physical
and consciousness is the product of them all.
27.
SPIRITUALISM: In contrast to Physicalism, it upholds that the body
and the nature are the products of consciousness.
28.
HUR O GILMAT: The fairies and the children of Bahisht meant for
the service and luxuries of the pious souls, as per Islamic belief.
29.
PUL SIRAT: According to Islamic conviction, a bridge between
Hell and Heaven which is finer than a strand of hair in size and which, when
crossed successfully, allows the body to reach Heaven. Equivalent to Vaitarini in Hindu mythology.
30.
LAS VEGAS: A city in America famous for gambling, shopping and
eateries.
31.
DHARAVI: The famous hut-dwelling of Mumbai which accommodates
more than a hundred thousand people.
32.
SPARTACUS: The famous Greek slave soldier who fought against
slavery about 71 BC.
33.
VALENTINE: Christian saint who sacrifice his life for the cause
of love and affection.
34.
MAHAMRITYUN JAY SLOKA: A Sanskrit sloka the
recitation of which is believed to make one overcome the fear of death.
ORIGINAL POEM (Published in
‘PAHAL 104’ By Shri GYANRANJAN in 2016 )
written by : SHARAD KOKAS
( MOB- 8871665060)
TRANSLATED (21.12.2020) BY :
HEMANT GAHLOT: UJJAIN
( MOB 9893232334)
SHARAD KOKAS
Sharad Kokas, a renowned poet,
writer, philosopher, and scholar of psychology and history, made his mark in
the literary world in the 1990s. He is well-known for his lengthy poems
"Puratatvavetta" and "Deh," published in the magazine 'Pahal,'
which focused on scientific perspectives and historical knowledge. He has also
published two poetry collections titled 'Gunaguni Dhoop Mein Baithkar' and
'Humse To Behatar Hain Rang.' Recently, a compilation of his selected poems was
also published.
Apart from poetry, Sharad
Kokas has authored a book of letters titled 'Kokas Parivar Ki Chitthiyan' and
three storybooks under the genre of neo-literates . Numerous poems, articles,
and reviews written by him have been featured in famous literary magazines of
India.
Having completed his
post-graduation from Vikram Vishwavidyalaya in Ancient Indian History, Culture,
and Archaeology, Sharad Kokas is not
only an accomplished writer but also an active participant in social movements
and the eradication of superstitions. His prose works 'Ek Puratatvavetta Ki
Diary' and 'Madhya Sadi Mein Madhya Prant: Ek Jan Itihas' as well as his
thought-provoking series 'Mastishk Ki Satta' and 'Man Machine' have gained
popularity on social media.
Sharad Kokas delivers lectures
on topics related to the elimination of superstitions, the advancement of
scientific consciousness, and various aspects of psychology. He also maintains
a blog and shares his poetry recitations on his YouTube channel. Currently, he
resides in Durg, Chhattisgarh.
Dr. HEMANT GAHLOT
Dr. Hemant Gahlot, born in
1960, has an extensive background in collegiate education, with a career
spanning back to 1982. He possesses a profound passion for language,
literature, and society, which he wholeheartedly expresses through his hobby of
translation. Dr. Gahlot's dedication to this art form is evident in his
published translations, which include works such as a novel by Shankar
Puntambekar, poetry by Harish Pathak featured in Indian Literature, and another
poetry book by Rajendra Mishra. Additionally, he has also translated two
Laghukatha collections by Madhudeep. Despite his accomplished career, Dr.
Hemant Gahlot continues to pursue his love for literature, and he keeps his
fingers agile on the keyboard. Currently, he holds the esteemed position of a
Professor of English at Govt Girls' PG College, Ujjain, Madhya Pradesh.
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