July 31 is Tulsidas Jayanti, honouring the 528th birth anniversary of the influential poet-philosopher of Varanasi. The 16th-century author of the Ramcharitmanas wrote his ‘people’s Ramayana’ in Awadhi, the everyday dialect of his region, to simplify matters for the common person. Tulsidas, as noted by Ramayana scholars, also observed in his day that the public was prone to be easily impressed and misled by all kinds of fantastical ascetics and their doctrines.
He disapproved of yogis who grew long nails, bound their hair in coils, wore strange, frightening ornaments, and, so to speak, dressed for the fairground. He is noted as saying in another work, the Vinaya Patrika in Brijbhasha, ‘Bahumat muni bahu panth puranani, jahan-tahan jhagaro soh (The seers profess many opinions, there are many old stories about many paths to salvation, and there are quarrels all over the place)’. He submitted that real religion was much less complicated, that it was a direct connection between a soul and God, whom his guru personally taught him to see as Ram.
Therefore, Tulsi’s repeated spiritual advice for people living out their lives in this particular Kalyug was brief and straightforward: “Kalyug jog na jagya na gnana / Ek aadhar Ram gun gaana (In Kalyug, neither austerity, nor sacrifice, nor deep knowledge is required / Singing in praise of Ram is the only path to salvation).”
The public could not resist the triple impact of Tulsi’s case, the heartbreaking appeal of Valmiki’s story that Tulsi retold with his own twists, such as the Lakshman rekha incident, and Tulsi’s poetry, which seemed simple yet was profoundly musical and meaningful. The history of religion in North India forever changed with the advent of the Ramcharitmanas.
However, Tulsi’s Ram is a faultless figure in monochrome gold, unlike Valmiki’s human-textured hero. So, it strikes me that since everything has a socio-historic context, was Tulsi’s Ram the deeply internalised response of North Indian Hinduism to the monotheism of the invaders? The political attempts today to make Ram a warlike rallying point suggest such a possibility. It may be something to consider and consciously delink from our attachment to the Ramcharitmanas, for it is not poor Tulsi’s fault in the least.
Meanwhile, he lives in our very marrow, and not only in the Hindi belt. Even devotees in the South know Tulsi’s Hanuman Chalisa by heart today. There is an anthology of devotees’ questions to Tulsi, called the Sankhavali, which asks things like, ‘What did they eat in the forest?’, ‘Which mother did they bow to first?’, for Ram is abidingly real to believers.
Tulsidas was protected by fellow-poet Abdur Rahim Khan-e-Khanan, then the Mughal governor of Varanasi. He upheld Tulsi’s artistic freedom against the ultraorthodox priests who foolishly opposed Tulsi’s rendering of the Sanskrit epic into ‘common’ speech. By enabling the common folk to own the Ramayana actively, Tulsi effectively countered the attempts at conversion that were rampant in North India under foreign rule.
Rahim was a Muslim, a celebrated poet in Akbar’s court and also a trusted military commander. His mother belonged to a converted Rajput family, and thereby Krishna-love persisted in his veins, glowing like the steady flame of the puja lamp, despite his official adherence to the new, foreign religion.
It came to Tulsi’s attention that Rahim always looked downward when giving alms to the poor. Tulsi sent a couplet to Rahim, asking why he did so. He wrote: “Aisi deni dain kyun, kith seekhey ho sain/Jyon jyon kar unchyo karo, tyon tyon neechey nain.” Meaning, “O great person, where have you learnt this way of giving? As your hands rise (to give), your eyes look down.”
By then, Kashi’s governor had Tulsi’s measure as a fellow poet and deeply spiritual person. He realised that Tulsi was well aware of the reason and was merely trolling him in a friendly way to explain it to others. So, Rahim sent back this couplet in reply: “Dainhaar koi aur hai, bhejat jo din rain, log hum par bharam kare, taaso neechey nain.” Meaning, “The Giver is someone else, giving day and night. The world has a misconception that I am the giver. So, I lower my eyes, abashed.”
Reading about this incident had a profound impact on me. Rahim had kept the dignity of the poor, with the awareness that what we think is ‘ours’ really belongs to the One. The opening lines of the Isha Upanishad, saying precisely that, came to mind.
So, I decided to try something different in my small interactions, which are usually with the old. Instead of raising a hand above theirs to drop money, I began holding out the ten or twenty rupee note in my cupped hands, not as alms but as an offering, below or towards the outstretched hands. It didn’t feel awkward to Indian me. The askers looked confused for a moment, and then a smile lit up their faces, and they picked up the money, uttering a blessing. That meant a lot because I believe in the power of dua. Rahim’s body language had changed mine.
Rahim’s tomb now stands restored in New Delhi, near Humayun’s much grander one. The tomb was built by Rahim himself for his wife in 1598, and he was buried in it in 1627. In 1753-4, marble and sandstone from Rahim’s tomb were looted by Safdarjang for his tomb. However, Rahim’s true monument is his poetry, which is taught in schools alongside Kabir’s. As for Tulsi, he is a beloved part of our lives forever, and we gratefully honour him.
Renuka Narayanan | FAITHLINE | Senior Journalist
(Views are personal)
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