Archive for the 'original compositions' Category

Call for Poetry Submissions

Rasāla, a new Sanskrit publishing venture I have just set up, will be bringing out an anthology of poetry on the night, entitled ‘Śarvarī’.  For this, we would like to invite all Sanskrit enthusiasts to submit verses – either their own compositions of those of their favourite poets.

The best 108 verses submitted will be published in the 2012 Rasāla anthology. Those whose verses are selected for the anthology will be duly credited; they will also each be given a free copy of the book.  Those verses not selected will be published on Rasāla’s website.

 

Full details are given in the announcement below (in English and in Sanskrit). Please visit the Rasāla website for more details and to see the verses submitted so far.

 

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Call for Poetry Submissions

 

Rasāla is a new Sanskrit publisher which publishes India’s most beautiful forgotten poems alongside contemporary English translations.  We would like to invite you to submit verses – either your own compositions of those of your favourite poets – for the annual Rasāla anthology. This year’s anthology is entitled ‘Śarvarī’ or ‘Night’.

 

Submitted verses should be on the theme ‘Night’ – for instance descriptions of the sunset, moonrise and onset of darkness; the meeting of lovers by night; the blooming of waterlilies and so on.  You are encouraged to send verses which are artistically beautiful – imbued with rasa and rich in figures of speech – as opposed to those focused more on morals or instruction.

 

Please send your submissions either to venetia@rasalabooks.com or, by post, to Rasāla, A303 Raheja Regent, 35 Coles Road, Fraser Town, Bangalore 560 005.  Phone: +91 997230 5440. Please note your name and contact details and also include the name and any other details of the poet whose verses you are submitting.

 

The best 108 verses submitted will be published in this year’s Rasāla anthology. Those whose verses are selected for the anthology will be duly credited in the book; they will also each be given a free copy of the book.  Those verses not selected will be published on Rasāla’s website.

 

For more information, please visit www.rasalabooks.com.

सूचना

रसालाख्यं नूतनसंस्कृtतप्रकाशनं भारतवर्षस्यादृष्टपूर्वाणि विस्मृतानि सुन्दरतमानि च काव्यान्यांग्लभाषायानूद्य प्रकाशयति । भवन्तो रसालप्रकाशनस्य पद्यावल्याः कृते स्वरचितानि पद्यान्यन्येषां कवीनां (प्राक्तनानामधुनातनानां वा) च पद्यानि प्रेषयेयुरित्यस्माकं सविनया प्रार्थना । अस्याः पद्यावल्याः ’शर्वरी’ति नाम अस्माभिर्दत्तम् ।

पद्यानि रात्रिसम्बद्धानि भवितुमर्हन्ति – यथा सुर्यास्तचन्द्रोदयतिमिरादीनां वर्णनम्, रात्रौ कामिनोः समागमः, कुमुदादीनां विकास इत्यादि । पद्यानि रसमयानि अलङ्कारचमत्कारयुक्तानि भवेयुः । यथाशक्ति नीत्युपदेशसहितानि पद्यानि वर्जनीयानि ।

venetia@rasalabooks.com प्रति पद्यानि प्रेषयेयुः | aअथवा Rasāla, A303 Raheja Regent, 35 Coles Road, Fraser Town, Bangalore 560 005.  Phone: +91 997230 5440  प्रति पद्यानि प्रेषयेयुः | स्वसन्देशपत्रे नामसङ्केतसम्पर्काणां सूचना दातव्या । कवेर्नामाद्यपि तत्रैव दातव्यम् ।

 

एतेषां प्रेषितानां पद्यानां मध्ये १०८ उत्तमानि पद्यानि शर्वरीनाम्न्यां रसालपद्यावल्यां प्रकाशितानि भविष्यन्ति । येषां पद्यानि पुस्तकार्थं चितानि तेषां नामाद्यपि पुस्तके लिखितं भविष्यति । तेभ्यः पुस्तकमेकमपि दीयते ।  यानि पद्यानि पुस्तकार्थं न चितानि, तान्यपि रसालप्रकाशनस्य अन्तर्जालस्थाने प्रकाशिष्यन्ते ।

इतोऽपि विज्ञप्तिप्राप्तये www.rasalabooks.com कृपया पश्यतु ।

 

Panchali

Pānchālī

Pulled into my husbands’ court by my uncombed hair

Thrown onto the floor where hundreds of feet touch their thick, red silk

The flowing carpet rises and falls like the mist of my garden

I know you are immovable in your rage Shákuni

Your ego knows no limits, it is like a snake stalking a mouse

Quietly without remorse in its meager heart

All eyes watch me cry in anguish as you pull my sari

To end of this room it flows like the Gaṅgā

Shining with its thin, gold-laden fabric

And crippled by your greedy fingers

Dignified beauty you tossed with your dice

Human emotions you sacrificed with your heart

Bring your eyes to mine to see one word: regret

Ha! You are the nectar’s enemy: regret!

If you took me then Kṛṣṇa will smite you right now!

His chakra, a knife for your spineless body

All my fears that followed me at night with my friends

Nibbling on their black pearls while I watched the roses rise

They are you…a shadow that rapes the moon

I cannot give you my body for it belongs to Keśava!

My life will one day be returned to his home

To live as a cowherd while churning milk for his hungry lips

The boyish smile and curly hair that barely touches his shoulders

His eyes so wide yet shaped like the waning moon

Little specks in the corner of both eyes are galaxies unknown to us

So far away other people exist for whom Kṛṣṇa is their king

If I am his then he is my king too

Shákuni, you are the drunken ego, a corrupted seed for humanity!

My body is a vase holding the virtues of Sūrya

He touched my spirit to give me a bite of his own

Disrobing me in front of my husbands and all the Āryas of their kingdom

is a sacrilege!

I cry to you to stop this great injustice!

Can’t you see I have sunken into a sea of distress!?

No, you are busy drowning my voice with your wicked laughter

Brahmā gave you a boon that protects your life from any physical or divine harm

Yet, has he no shame when seeing this monstrous deed?

Ma! You are Sarvāsuravināśā, come to my rescue!

Show your terrifying face to this savage

Make him cower under your crippling stare, ma!

Turn his limbs into brittle sticks so he will stop treating my honor like a toy

Sunil P. Narayan

Martanda Dandaka

The sun, as the fist of Day the wrestler, shatters his enemy the night.  May he, the knot of love that binds the cakra bird and his wife, purify you.

You resemble a new lotus opening at the tip of the upraised trunk of the elephant that guards Indra’s direction.  The female cakravaka birds of the three worlds attend to you with the arghya offering formed of their tears.  They are freed from despondency by the sight of the chariot that shines with its team of irrepressible handsome horses who are neighing in satisfaction thanks to the embrace of a breeze pleasantly cooled by the pure heavenly rivers’ mass of waves.  Oh Lord of the triple Vedas, ablaze with your own brilliance – victory!

You are the origin of the light that so delights the world.  Happily you roam the paths of the sky cloud-free yet decorated with lightning creepers created by the flash of the golden whip as the best of charioteers flicks it up.  He is agitated – his progress has been hindered because his team of horses is no longer paying attention, engrossed instead in listening to the music of the vina that is formed of a line of bees swarming around the surface of a lotus pond.   You are the elephant in rut who destroys the tree of ignorance, the fresh basin of water in which the creeper of the triple Vedas stands – victory!

Your chariot outpaces even the speed of the winds at the time of final dissolution.  You are the one repository of the Vedas.  Celebrated for your orb which becomes the jar of golden nectar offered by Day in the place of Garuda, lord of birds, who troubles the hordes of rakshasas standing in for snakes who are adroit at playing games in the web of the night’s darkness which forms Patala.  Oh Martanda, you grace the gods who are forever praising you with a light which is anything but fierce, pure in your own boundless splendour – victory!

Your youth is attended by a glorious warm light which skillfully steals the web of snowflakes that lie thick upon the manes of the troop of awakening lions on the sunrise mountain.  You are the single spark that lights the fire of dawn.  Splendid, you cannot be characterised.  You freely undertake the protection of the terror-struck – child’s play to you.  You are the kaustubha jewel that lies upon the dark expanse of the sky that forms Vishnu’s chest.  You alone are worthy of the three worlds’ worship, eldest among the moon and celestial beings – to you I bow.

Let the wise gladly accept this daṇḍaka which Sri Shankar fixed upon the great umbrella – in the form of the grace of the sun – which destroys the burning heat of misfortune.

Dr Shankar Rajaraman


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