The Ramcharitmanas 3

by Tulsidas

  And one who knew how to lie or jest and joke,

  In the age of Kali, he alone was considered a man of virtue.

  An impious scoundrel who abandoned the path of the Vedas

  Was, in the age of Kali, a man of wisdom and dispassion,

  While anyone with long nails and matted hair,

  Became renowned as an ascetic in that dark age.

  They who put on unsightly rags and ornaments,

  And devoured any kind of food, fit to be eaten or not,

  Were the ascetics, the saints, the ones venerated

  In that age of Kali.

  (98A)

  Those who harmed others

  Were held in high esteem,

  And rogues and liars in thought, word and deed

  Were accepted as preachers in that Kaliyug.

  (98B)

  All men were subject to women, sire,

  And danced to their tune like performing monkeys.

  Shudras instructed the twice-born in spiritual wisdom,

  And assuming the sacred thread took their contemptible alms.

  All men were immersed in lust, greed and anger,

  And hostile to the gods, the Brahmans, the Vedas and the saints.

  Deserting their handsome and accomplished husbands,

  Ill-starred women worshipped strange men.

  Married women wore no ornaments,

  While widows daily adorned themselves.

  Disciples and gurus were like the deaf and the blind—

  One did not listen, the other did not see.

  A teacher who takes his pupil’s money but does not rid him of his doubts

  Falls into the deepest hell.

  Mothers and fathers called their children to them,

  And taught them only that which fills their bellies.

  Men and women spoke

  Only of spiritual wisdom,

  But would kill a Brahman or their guru

  Out of greed for a bit of money.

  (99A)

  Shudras angrily argued with the twice-born,

  ‘Are we any less than you?

  Anyone who understands the Absolute

  Is as good a Brahman as any!’

  (99B)

  Lusting after another’s wife, deceitful and sly,

  Enwrapped in delusion, violence and selfishness—

  These were the men considered enlightened and wise.

  Such are the practices I have seen in every Kaliyug.

  Men who are themselves lost ruin those others too

  Who follow the path of virtue.

  Those who use logic to criticize the Vedas,

  Spend a kalpa each in every hell.

  Men of low caste, such as oilmen, potters,

  Shvapachas, Kols, Kirats and distillers,

  Upon losing their wives or their household property,

  Shave their heads and turn into holy men.

  They make the Brahmans worship them,

  And so bring ruin upon themselves in this world and the next.

  Brahmans are unlettered, greedy, lustful,

  Dissolute, stupid and the husbands of unclean, low-born women.

  Shudras practise prayer and penance, undertake sacred vows and fasts,

  And discourse upon the Puranas from seats of honour.

  All men behave according to their own way of thinking—

  The unbounded wickedness cannot be described.

  In the age of Kali, castes are mixed together,

  And all men deviate from the sacred laws.

  They practise sin, and in return receive

  Suffering, fear, disease, sorrow and loss.

  (100A)

  The path of devotion to Hari is approved of by the Vedas

  And is united with dispassion and discernment.

  But men, overcome by delusion, do not follow this road

  And walk, instead, along diverse paths they have themselves invented.

  (100B)

  Hermits build themselves homes at great expense,

  Dispassion in them disappears, destroyed by lustfulness.

  Ascetics become wealthy, householders poor—

  The wonders of the Kali age, sire, are beyond telling.

  Men throw out virtuous and well-born wives

  And bring home some young servant-girl.

  A son respects his mother and father

  So long as he hasn’t seen a woman’s face.

  From the moment his wife’s kin become dear to him,

  He begins to look upon his own family as enemies.

  Kings are immersed in sin, and, discarding righteousness,

  They tyrranize their subjects through daily punishment.

  The wealthy, even if base-born, are considered high-born,

  A sacred thread alone marks a Brahman, and any naked beggar is an ascetic.

  Anyone who does not believe in the Puranas or the Vedas

  Is regarded as a saint and Hari’s true devotee in the Kali age.

  There are multitudes of poets, but generous patrons are no longer heard of in the world.

  There are many to criticize virtue, but no virtuous man to be found.

  Famines occur again and again in the age of Kali,

  And people die of starvation in large numbers.

  Listen, O king of the birds, in the Kali age,

  The whole universe is overwhelmed

  By deceit, disobedience, hypocrisy, malice, heresy,

  Arrogance, ignorance, lust, vanity and every other evil passion.

  (101A)

  Men practise prayer, penance and fasting,

  Perform sacrifices and give alms in spiritual darkness,

  Gods do not shower the earth with rain,

  And rice is sown but does not grow.

  (101B)

  Women have no ornament except their hair. Dissatisfied,

  Poor and intensely selfish, they are always miserable.

  The fools want happiness, but disdain righteousness,

  Small-minded and hard-hearted, they know no tenderness.

  Men are tormented by disease and find no rest anywhere,

  But are arrogant and quarrelsome without any reason.

  Their lives are short, about ten years and five,

  But they think they’ll outlive creation—such is their pride.

  The age of Kali has driven mankind mad,

  So that no one respects even a sister or a daughter.

  There is no contentment, no consideration, no gentleness,

  And everyone, high caste or low, has become a beggar.

  Jealousy, insolence and greed are superabundant,

  And equanimity of mind has disappeared.

  All men are afflicted with sorrow and loss,

  And rules and rituals of caste abandoned.

  There is no self-restraint, almsgiving, compassion or good sense left,

  But stupidity and dishonesty proliferate.

  Men and women all indulge their bodies,

  And those who speak ill of others are everywhere.

  O enemy of snakes, the age of Kali

  Is a storehouse of impurity and sin.

  But this age has many virtues too, for in it

  Salvation can be effortlessly attained.

  (102A)

  Liberation attained in the Krit, Treta and Dwapar ages,

  Through prayer, fire-sacrifices and meditation,

  May be reached in the age of Kali

  Merely through Hari’s name.

  (102B)

  In the Krityug, everyone is saintly and wise,

  And men cross the ocean of existence by meditating upon Hari.

  In the Tretayug, men perform many fire-sacrifices,

  And cross the ocean of existence by dedicating their actions to the Lord.

  In the Dwapar age, men cross the ocean of existence

  By worshipping the feet of Raghupati, there is no other way.

  And in the age of Kali men reach the other shore

  Sim
ply by singing of Hari’s perfections.

  In the age of Kali, neither meditation, sacrifice, nor wisdom is of use,

  Man’s only support is the singing of Ram’s virtues.

  He who worships Ram alone, giving up faith in all others,

  And lovingly chants his praises,

  Crosses the ocean of existence—of this there is no doubt.

  The power of the name is thus manifest in the age of Kali.

  The Kaliyug has this one sanctifying power—

  Good intentions are rewarded, but bad ones are not.

  There is no age like the age of Kali,

  Provided a man has faith,

  For merely by singing of Ram’s pure virtues,

  He can easily cross the ocean of existence.

  (103A)

  Of the four parts of piety,6

  Only one is important in the Kaliyug—

  Charity practised in any way

  Leads to spiritual well-being.

  (103B)

  Directed by Ram’s delusive power,

  The distinguishing attributes of each age are ever present in all hearts.

  Pure goodness, equanimity, wisdom

  And cheerfulness are the effects of the Krityug.

  An abundance of goodness mixed with strong emotion, love for action,

  And a general feeling of happiness are the marks of the Tretayug.

  Much passion, only a little goodness, some ignorance

  And both joy and fear in the heart are characteristics of the Dwaparyug.

  Great ignorance, some passion and hostility,

  And antagonism everywhere is the effect of the Kaliyug.

  The wise discern the characteristics of each age in their minds,

  And renouncing wickedness, devote themselves to righteousness.

  These attributes of the various ages have no effect on one

  Who is utterly devoted to Raghupati’s feet.

  The illusion created by a magician is difficult to penetrate, king of the birds,

  But the magician’s servant is not deceived by his tricks.

  The bad and good, created by Hari’s maya,

  Cannot be dispersed without the worship of Hari.

  Bearing this in mind, abandon all desire,

  And worship Ram.

  (104A)

  In that Kaliyug, king of the birds,

  I lived in Avadh for many years.

  Then a famine occurred, and overcome by adversity,

  I was compelled to move to another land.

  (104B)

  I went to Ujjaini, O Uragari,

  Miserable, sad, poor and suffering.

  After some time had passed, I acquired some wealth,

  And then began to devote myself to the worship of Shambhu.

  There was a Brahman there who constantly worshipped Shiv

  According to Vedic rites; he had no other occupation.

  He was a very saintly man, one who knew the highest truth.

  And though a worshipper of Shambhu, he did not disparage Hari.

  I hypocritically served this kind Brahman,

  Who was righteousness itself.

  Seeing me outwardly so reverential, sire,

  He instructed me like his own son.

  The noble Brahman taught me a mantra sacred to Shiv,

  And gave me every kind of good advice.

  I would go to a Shiv temple and recite the mantra

  With unbounded pride and arrogance in my heart.

  I, a vile wretch with a mind full of sin,

  Base-born, and in the grip of delusion,

  Would burn with envy at the sight of a Brahman

  Or worshipper of Hari, and rail at Lord Vishnu.

  (105A)

  Distressed to see my behaviour,

  My guru would constantly admonish me.

  But I grew extremely angry—

  Does pride ever like good advice?

  (105B)

  One day my guru sent for me,

  And instructed me for a long time on right behaviour.

  ‘The fruit of worshipping Shiv, my son,

  Is unceasing devotion to Ram’s feet.

  Shiv and Brahma both worship Ram,

  So what is there to say of mortal man!

  Do you wish for happiness, unfortunate one, by opposing him

  Whose feet are adored by Brahma and Shiv?’

  When I heard my guru speak of Har as Hari’s servant,

  My heart, king of the birds, burned with anger.

  Though base-born, I had acquired learning

  And become like a snake that has been fed on milk.

  Arrogant, wicked, unfortunate, base-born,

  I fought my guru day and night.

  My guru, who was exceedingly kind, felt no anger,

  But counselled me wisely again and again.

  The first person a rogue kills and destroys

  Is one from whom he has derived some benefit.

  Smoke, which is born of fire, my friend,

  Puts out that same fire when it attains the status of a cloud.

  The dust lying upon the road is held in contempt,

  And constantly endures being stepped upon by all;

  But when blown aloft by the wind it first fills the air itself,

  And then gets into the king’s eyes or falls upon his crown.

  Listen, king of the birds, realizing this state of affairs,

  The wise do not keep company with the wicked.

  Sages and scholars have ever laid down this rule—

  Enmity with a bad man is not good, nor is friendship.

  Stay ever aloof from them, my master,

  Avoid the wicked as you would a dog.

  I was a bad man, my heart full of deceit and falsehood,

  And the guru’s well-meant admonitions did not please me.

  One day, at a temple dedicated to Har,

  I was chanting his name

  When my guru came in, but in my pride

  I did not rise to salute him.

  (106A)

  That gracious man did not say a word,

  Nor did he feel even a trace of anger in his heart.

  But the great god Shiv could not tolerate

  The grievous sin of disrespect to a guru.

  (106B)

  A voice from heaven was heard in the temple,

  ‘You wretched and arrogant fool!

  Though your guru has no anger,

  Being so kind-hearted and truly wise,

  Yet I pronounce a curse upon you, fool,

  For I am not pleased by any transgression of what is right.

  If I do not punish you, wretch,

  The Vedic law that I follow will be broken.

  The fools who bear malice against their gurus,

  Fall into the worst abyss of hell for ten million ages.

  They are then born from the wombs of beasts,

  And suffer through ten thousand successive births.

  You remained seated, unmoving like a python, vile sinner,

  With your mind full of wickedness. So you shall become a snake!

  Disappear into the hollow of some vast tree,

  And there remain, you vilest of the vile, in that mean state.’

  My guru cried out upon

  Hearing Shiv’s terrible curse.

  Seeing me trembling with fear,

  Great sorrow arose in his heart.

  (107A)

  Contemplating my horrible fate,

  The Brahman devoutly prostrated himself

  Before Shiv, and with folded hands,

  And in a voice choking with emotion, he beseeched him thus:

  (107B)

  ‘I pay homage to the sovereign Lord of the northeast quarter, he who is salvation personified,

  The omnipresent and all-pervading Absolute, embodied in the Vedas.

  The self-contained, the unqualified, the unvarying, the undifferentiated and the indifferent,

  The all-pervading intelligence, who
envelops all space and sky—I worship him.

  Incorporeal, the root of the sacred syllable Om, transcending all states and conditions,

  Beyond all speech, understanding and perception by the senses, the Lord of the mountain,

  The terrible, the compassionate, the death of death itself,

  The abode of all virtues, who is beyond birth and rebirth—I salute him.

  As stern and white as the snow-clad Himalayas,

  Radiant with the beauty of countless gods of Love,

  With the lovely Ganga with her trembling waves glittering in his matted locks,

  The crescent moon shining upon his forehead, and snakes around his neck,

  With trembling ear-rings, shapely brows, large eyes,

  Smiling face, and blue-stained throat; who is all-merciful,

  And wears a tiger-skin and a garland of skulls—

  Shankar, the beloved Lord of all. I worship him.

  The wrathful, the exalted, the majestic, the Supreme Lord,

  The indivisible, the unbegotten, with the radiance of countless suns,

  Who roots out the threefold afflictions, and bears a trident in his hand—

  Bhavani’s beloved, accessible only through love. I adore him.

  Beyond number, the blessed, the cause of universal destruction at the end of each kalpa,

  The bestower of eternal joy upon the good, the slayer of the demon Tripur,

  The aggregation of consciousness and bliss, the destroyer of all delusion,

  Vanquisher of Love, be gracious to me, O Lord, be gracious.

  So long as men do not worship the lotus feet of Uma’s lord,

  Neither in this world nor the next

  Can they find peace or happiness, nor does their suffering end.

  Therefore, O Lord, you who dwell in the inner hearts of all, have mercy.

  I know nothing of meditation, prayer, or ritual worship,

  But every moment and at all times I bow to you, O Shambhu.

  Save me, Lord, a wretch afflicted by old age and the agony of rebirth—

  O Shambhu, it is you alone I worship!’

  The Brahmin uttered this eightfold prayer

  In praise of Rudra to propitiate the great god.