The Hunter Turned Poet,
Valmiki
Thousands of years ago there
lived,
A hunter, who looted and
robbed,
Any wayfarer, passing thro’
the jungle,
Unaware, walking alone, in
single.
Chanting on the Holy name “Narayana”,
One day, Narada, the son of
Holy Brahma,
Passed thro’ alone, the
hunter’s way,
With nothing worth, to give
away.
The hunter, with his eyes
full of rage,
Flashed his sword at the
innocent sage,
And said, “Give away what you
possess,
Otherwise, face the death,
make no fuss.”
“I caused no harm,” the
smiling sage said,
“Why do you want to kill me?”
He asked.
“I want wealth to support my
family,”
He replied, “and spend my
days happily.”
“Well, go to your children
and wife,
Having sinfully maintained
their life,
Ask them to share a part of
your sins,
For what you gave them a long
time since.”
So said the sage to the
bewildered hunter,
Humbled by then, from his
egoistic centre,
And promised to stay there
for his answer,
With all his pity for this
helpless sinner.
The robber went back to his
house,
First asked his dear most
spouse,
Why shouldn’t she share a
part
Of his sins earned in her
interest?
It was his duty, she told him
on the spot,
As a husband to maintain his
lot,
And the children also said
the same,
When this question before
them came.
Their ingratitude opened his
eyes.
He felt for his past sinful
days.
He sought the advice of the
sage,
To free his life from sinful
bondage.
“Chant the holy name of Rama
That will wipe out your sins”
said Narada
But the poor hunter couldn’t
spell
The name of Rama quite well.
Pointing towards a ‘Mara’
Tree,
That was to him familiar and
free
The Sage told him to
pronounce
The name of that tree more
than once.
As the hunter chanted fast
‘Mara, Mara’
In succession it sounded
‘Rama, Rama’.
Years went by with his chant,
non-stop,
And he was hidden by anthills
atop.
“Valmika” meant one, from ant
hills arose,”
And named “Valmiki”, as
similarly he rose,
Led, later on, a pure and
ascetic life,
Freed from his past
inglorious life.
A couple of Krouncha birds,
one day,
As they were busy in their
love play,
The male one was hit by an
arrow,
While the female cried out in
sorrow.
This touched Valmiki’s soft
heart
He cursed the hunter, in
short,
“A future, O hunter, none
you’ll have,
For killing a bird in the
midst of love.”
He was surprised at his own
words,
RAMAYAN
