The International Day of Peace or Peace Day is observed around the world each year on September 21. Established in 1981 by a unanimous United Nations resolution, Peace Day provides a global date for all people to commit anew to peace, rising above differences, to help build a ‘culture of peace’.
How may we promote a culture of peace at a personal level? Perhaps it is easiest done by embracing a life code of gentle and polite behaviour, by not talking too loudly, by not honking impatiently on the road, by letting people come out of the door before we crowd in, by greeting and thanking, and especially, by smiling. These are very small things to do but they de-stress the atmosphere, from which we benefit, too.
The formula to establish political peace is carefully calibrated by ancient Indian theory as ‘sama, dana, bheda, danda’. In order, this means reconciliation, giving gifts, sowing division in the enemy ranks and finally, aggression. I don’t know why they commonly muddle the order in parts of the country today as ‘sam, daan, dand, bhed’. The expression is reduced to a euphemism for ‘tried everything’.
But this usage spoils the moral march of these actions from peace to strategy to violence. ‘Danda’ or aggression comes last, only when other means fail. I think it tells us something, don’t you, about how our ancestors opted for peace and reconciliation as the first option?
Two stories come to mind about finding peace, a divine one from theology and a political one from history. Both took place in Kangra in Himachal Pradesh, not far from the lovely river Beas, originally called ‘Vipasha’. It is a river of tales that links us all. It has seen some interesting history. Alexander of Greece, for one, turned back from its west bank in 326 BCE. He called it the Hyphasis.
I discovered the site of an even older tale at the temple of Sri Kalinath Kaleshwar temple in Paragpur in Kangra. The town dates back to the 17th century and the temple is very simply built. But its site has been long revered.
The sthala puranam or founding legend of the site goes that once, Parvati turned into Kali to kill a demon but went on storming even after she had killed him. Shiva lay down in her path to stop her. She stepped on him in fury which shocked her back to normal, and she went away, greatly embarrassed. It is believed that it was here, at this site, that Shiva persuaded Parvati with many sweet words to come back to Kailash. He brought her out of her depression with his tact and diplomacy and took her home.
I knew the story but did not know that this was the place where Parvati had made up with Shiva and found peace. To my astonishment, South Indian sadhus of the ancient Niranjani Akhada were on duty there. They told me the sthala puranam. How far and wide is the steel web upholding ‘Bharata khande, Jambu dvipe’.
The other tale concerns one of the oldest royal houses of India, which went under the debris of time. Trigarta was an ancient kingdom that fought on the Kaurava side at Kurukshetra. Susharma, the Trigarta king, led a do-or-die squadron called the ‘Samsaptaka’ to capture Yudhishthira. But they were all finished off by Arjuna.
Just so had the Trigartas fought and lost to Rama in the Ramayana.
The Katoch Rajputs who claim descent from the Trigartas founded a kingdom in Kangra in present-day Himachal Pradesh. The first known Katoch raja was Bhumi Chand, and in the Brahmanda Purana, he is said to have built the original temple to Parvati later known as ‘Jwalamukhi’. It is an important place of pilgrimage even today.
In the 15th century, a scion of the clan called Hari Chand founded another kingdom in these scenic hills called ‘Guler’. Typical of kings, Hari Chand loved to hunt. Behold Raja Hari Chand then one fine morning, hunting deer in the thickly wooded hills around Guler Fort. His quarry led him deep into the forest and he left his companions far behind. He dismounted in a grove to look around for tracks. As he walked forward, his foot slipped and he fell into a deep, dry pit. His head struck a rock and he passed out. The forest grass closed over the mouth of the pit, hiding him.
His companions were shocked when his horse came back riderless. However, a frantic search in the forests yielded nothing. They sent to Guler Fort for reinforcements but were compelled at last to mourn Hari Chand as dead. His younger brother was crowned king.
Months into the new reign, Hari Chand suddenly returned, leaner, worn-looking and dressed in simple country clothes. He had been miraculously rescued by gypsies, healed and sent back. The courtiers cheered and the new king fell at his brother’s feet.
But the Trigartas were not arrivistes at the game or new to power. Hari Chand refused to take his kingdom back. Life had ordained that his younger brother should be king. It seemed both wrong and impractical to take it away when the court had realigned itself to its new ruler as any system will under a new head.
“Have we not seen and heard enough of brother fighting brother?” he said with an affectionate smile to his amazed younger brother and court. “With your permission, I will make another fort for myself below Guler down by the river.”
With this diplomatic move and with maximum damage control, he averted the messy possibility of a fratricidal war. He made his brother his ally, not enemy, employing ‘sama’ and ‘dana’.
The rajguru and prime minister forbore to meet each other’s eyes and looked at Hari Chand with respect. This was a royal retrieve indeed and a bad situation had been nearly side-stepped.
There must be other such stories about the culture of peace although ‘history’ seems to be mainly about war-mongering.
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