Guiding Light of The Month
O Lord, how ardently do I call and implore Thy love! Grant that my aspiration may be intense enough to awaken the same aspiration everywhere: oh, may good- ness, justice and peace reign as supreme masters, may ignorant egoism be overcome, darkness be suddenly illu- minated by Thy pure Light; may the blind see, the deaf hear, may Thy law be proclaimed in every place and, in a constantly progressive union, in an ever more perfect harmony, may all, like one single being, stretch out their arms towards Thee to identify themselves with Thee and manifest Thee upon earth.
- The Mother
Forerunner of the Divine Word – by C.V. Devan Nair
[We present here some extracts of an article written by the late C V Devan Nair, former chairman of Sri Aurobindo Society, Singapore and also former President of Singapore]
I love and admire Amal Kiran, not only for himself, but for the entire context of space , time and atmosphere which engendered so variegated a flower. And for the fact that I personally came to know this phenomenon and to partake of some at least of its hues and scents. I deliberately use the plural in this regard, simply because this particular bloom is so multi-hued that one does not know where to begin.
In any case, I am not qualified to speak about the multifarious achievements of a man who can only be described as a polymath. I forget the details, but I recall that even the Mother once had occasion to speak to Sri Aurobindo about her discovery that Amal was so amazingly knowledgeable. Pose a riddle, and he will produce exactly the right rabbit from an inexhaustible hat. He had even remembered, it seems, the title of some western opera, which Mother had forgotten.
Sri Aurobindo knew perfectly well what he was doing when he named K.D.Sethna Amal Kiran- The Clear Ray. For among those who responded to the rhythmic footfalls of Divinity, Amal is surely the greatest, if one goes by the collection of his poetry so aptly titled: The Secret Splendour.
With his innate poetic genius, his phenomenal memory of everything he reads, and an extraordinary sensitiveness to ever-so-subtle nuances of shade and significance, Amal proved to be an uncommonly clear conduit for the Truth-burdened word and phrase. Indeed, Sri Aurobindo’s comments on several of his poems, as on those of Nirodbaran, Dilip and others constitute, in themselves, a practical education with regard to the shape and thrust of the Future Poetry.
The prolific polymath who Amal Kiran is, discoursing learnedly on the principles of modern physics; probing into India’s historical past; is at once also a searching literary critic, a formidable debater on a variety of subjects, a devastating critic of literary or metaphysical poseurs and know-alls; and a Bhakta who yearns for the Divine Beloved. Who else but a Bhakta could have written This Errant Life?
This errant life is dear although it dies;
And human lips are sweet though they but sing
Of stars estranged from us; and youth’s emprise
Is wondrous yet, although an unsure thing.
Sky-lucent Bliss untouched by earthiness!
I fear to soar lest tender bonds decrease.
If Thou desirest my weak self to outgrow
Its mortal longings, lean down from above,
Temper the unborn light no thought can trace,
Suffuse my mood with a familiar glow.
For’tis with mouth of clay I supplicate:
Speak to me heart to heart words intimate,
And all Thy formless glory turn to love
And mould Thy love into a human face.
If Radha saw divine Love moulded in Krishna’s face, why not Amal Kiran who saw it moulded in Sri Aurobindo’s? Anyway, here is Sri Aurobindo’s own comment on the poem:
“A very beautiful poem, one of the very best you have written. The last six lines, one may say even the last eight, are absolutely perfect. IF you could always write like that, you would take your place among English poets and no low place either. I consider they can rank-these eight lines- with the very best in English poetry”.
No mean, praise, coming from so high a source! One more of Amal’s poems, this time on Sri Aurobindo, titled The Master:
Bard rhyming earth to paradise
Time-conqueror with prophet eyes,
Body of upright flawless fire,
Star-strewing hands that never tire-
In Him at last earth-gropings reach
Omniscient calm, omnipotent speech,
Love omnipresent without ache!
Does still a stone that cannot wake
Keep hurling through your mortal mind
Its challenge at the epiphany?
If you would see this blindness break,
Follow the heart’s humility-
Question not with your shallow gaze
The Infinite focused in that face,
But, when the unshadowed limbs go by,
Touch with your brow the white footfall:
A rhythm profound shall silence all!
When I first read this poem, a profound gratitude, welled up in my deepest heart. I, who had greatly regretted not having had Sri Aurobindo’s personal darshan, felt that regret almost disappear. It was as if Amal’s lines gave me the much-coveted darshan of the Lord, and I was reduced to a trembling bundle of ecstasy. Thank you, dear Amal, thank you!
No piece on Amal would be complete without reference to his wit and humour. For if he was formidably cerebral in his prose writings, deeply intuitive in his poetry, in his humour he went unabashedly for the belly, as I came to know personally.
How gently, how wittily, how vividly he had once suggested a correction to an atrocious verbal slip on my part in an article I had sent him for Mother India. I had referred to “persons turning their noses down” on things they deemed beneath them. Amal’s corrective response caused me to laugh till my belly ached. He wrote: “As far as I know, elephants are the only animals which can turn their noses up and down and sideways.” And with what joy I made the necessary correction!
Finally, I will acknowledge that Amal himself might not know. It was largely thanks to his sympathy, and his enlightening words of encouragement that I was able to recover from what at the time had seemed to me a personal calamity. It turned out to be a vast liberation instead.
One more thing I need very much to say to Amal in this commemorative volume: “Carry on, dear Amal, in our midst. You have given so much, as only you can. You can give more. I would like to be around to contribute to the festschrift volume to observe your hundredth birthday as well. I will only be a mere stripling of eighty-one then.”
(This extract of C.V. Devan Nair’s article is taken from ‘Amal Kiran, Poet and Critic’, edited by Nirodbaran and R.Y. Deshpande. Published by Sri Aurobindo Ashram. Due to a lack of space we regret not carrying the article in its entirety. Due apologies.)
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