Chand Aur Chandni

Chand Aur Chandni

Hain Ek Dussre Mein Hain Simte Hue

Hain  Ek Dussre Mein Lipte Hue

Yeh Dono Na Kavi Hote Hain Judah

Duniya Ko Dono Hi Roushan Kare

Lekin Dono Ki Tarika Kuch Alag se Banaya Hain Khudah

Chand Ko Khudah Ne Diyah Hain Ek Aakar

Woh Apni Gol Si Sharir Mein Roushni Jalake Rakkha Hain

Woh Apni Aakar Mein Quaid Hain Lekin Mehfuz Bhi

Woh Apni Ek Alag Si Pahechan Ko leke Zindah Hain

Tanha Akela Asmaan Mein Khudah ke Hain  Kareeb

Aur  Woh Duniya se Hain Door Aur BeMatlab Bhi

Chand Ki Premika Hain Chandni Woh Chand Ke Jaisa Hain Nehi

Usse Chahat Hain Dussron Mein Apni Pahechan Ki

Usse Chahat Hain Kisi Bhi Kimat pe Duniya Ke  Sahurat Ki

Woh Tanha Aur Ajnabi Banke Nehi Jinah Chahti

Usse Lubhati Hain Shor Aur Awaz Aur Dhikhawa Door Ki Duniya Ki

Chandni Samajhti Hain Door Ki 

Neeli si Duniya Bahut Khubsurat Hain

Toh Woh Apni Khubsurat Roshni Ko Leke 

Sari Duniya Mein Faail Jati Hain

Woh Duniya ke Sari Makan, Ghar , Mitti, Pani 

Aur Har Ek Insan Pe Apni Noor Barsati Hain  

Chandni Ki Naram Si Aagosh Mein 

Insan Chain ke Nind Soti Hain

Koi Dewaani Apni Premi Ki Yaad Mein 

Usski Daman Mein Bhig Ke Roti Hain

Koi Garib Apni Ghar Ke Angan Mein

Chandni Ki Roshni ko Dekh Kar 

Khuss Hoke Apni Dil ko Amir Banata hain

Aur Koi Amir Apni  Daulat-e- Chandni Ko

Uss Se Bhi Zadah Khubsurat  Jatati Hain 

Kisi Shayar Ki Zineh Ki Sahara Hain Chandni

Kyun Ke Uss ki Maan Main Hain Khayalon Ki Awadi

Aur Shayad Isiliyeh Kam Hain Ghar Ki Amdani

Kisi Musaffir Ki Raahon Ki Hain Woh Roshni

Kyun Ki Musaffir Har Kadam Pe Har Disha Se Hain Ajnabi

Sari Duniya Iss Chandni Ke Hain Abhari 

Woh Chanchal Aur Woh Hain Bahut Pyari

Woh Na Samjhe Bhala Bura, 

Apni Dhun Mein Magan Hain Pura

Sari Bandhan, Sari Niyam , Sari Rassmon Ko 

Jana Chahti Hain Churah

Woh Na Karti Hain Kisi se Bhi Bhed Vhav

Woh Saiyaad Ko Aur Kafer Ko Ek Saath Karti Hain Adab

Usse Koi Samjhe Nashila Sarab 

Aur Usse Koi Samjhe Jalti Safed Shabab

Har Koi Gaale Lagaye  Usse Phir Jab Subah Hoti Hain

 Toh Woh Ban Jati Hain Khowab 

Chandni Samajhti Hain Usse Mil Gayi Hain Manzil

Usse Woh Saab Kuch  Mila Jo thi Usski Khowaish -e-Dil

Lekin Ekdin Jab Duniya Pe Chhayi Amabaas Ki Andhera

Phir Na Chandni Kar Payi Apni Noor Ki Baserah

Tab Chup Ke Se  Woh Duniya Mein Rakkha Kadam

Toh Dekha Usne Duniyawalon Ki Sitam

Ke Har Koi Uss ko Leke Kar Raha Tha Mazak

Kahe Raha Tha Woh nehi Hain Chandni

Woh Toh Hain Chand Ki Goad Ki Lut Ti Hui Khak

Sun Ke Chandni Ko Hui Ab Yeh Ahesaash 

Ke Duniya Mein Haar Ek Arzooyon Ki Kavi Mit Ti Nehi Talash

Logon Ki Bhala Burah Sunte Sunte Dekho

Ek Aftab Bhi Ban Ab Gayi Zindah Laash

Chandni Ab Thori Si Aansu Bahake Laut Aati Hain Chand Ke Pass

Usse Apni Bahon Mein Leke Chand Leta Hain Chain Ki Shaash

Usne Dekha Hain Sab Kuch Khamoshi Se Sari Duniya Ki Khel

Aab Ek Ho Gayi Chand Aur Chandni Ki Tanhai Ki Mel

Chand Na Sahe Saka Chandni Ki Aakhon Ki Pani

Uss ne Chup Ke se Suna Chandni Ki Dard Bhari Kahani

Chand Ke Sine Mein Laga Chandni Ke Dard Ki Daag

Chand Ke Dil mein Jala Duniya ke Liyeh Ab Nafrat Ki Aag 

Chand Ne Kaha Meri Chandni ko Agar 

Meri Pyar Se Lagti Hain Kalank Ke Daag

Toh Duniya Mein Aisi Koun si Shaqsh Hain

Jo Khud Hain Apne Aap Se Hain Bedag  

A STORY OF LOVE <3 :-)
M-e-Z

                                                                               

Meera

                                                                              

Meerabai (c. 1498 – c. 1547AD) (alternate orthographies: Meera; Mira; Meera Bai) was an aristocraticHindu mystical singer and sahajiya (apasampradaya) devotee of Lord Krishna from Rajasthan and one of the most significant figures of the Sant tradition of the Vaishnava bhakti movement. Some 1,200–1,300 prayerful songs or bhajans attributed to her are popular throughout India and have been published in several translations worldwide. In the bhakti tradition, they are in passionate praise of Lord Krishna.

Details of her life, which has been the subject of several films, are pieced together from her poetry and stories recounted by her community and are of debatable historical authenticity, particularly those that connect her with the later Tansen. On the other hand, the traditions that make her a disciple of Ravidaswho disputed with Rupa Goswami are consonant with the usual account of her life.

Meera, a Rajput princess^[1] was born in Kudki (Kurki), a little village near Merta City, which is presently in the Nagaur district of Rajasthan in northwest India. Her father, Ratan Singh Rathore, was a warrior of the Rathore clan, the son of Rao Duda of Merta Rao Duda was son of Rao Jodha of mandore founder of Jodhpur.

As an infant Meera became deeply enamored of an iconic idol of Krishna owned by a visiting holy man; she was inconsolable until she possessed it and probably kept it all her life. Her mother was supportive of her religious tendencies but she died early.

Meera’s marriage was arranged at an early age, traditionally to Prince Bhoj Raj, the eldest son ofRana Sanga of Chittor. However her new family did not approve of her piety and devotion when she refused to worship their family deity and maintained that she was only truly married to Krishna.

The Rajputana had remained fiercely independent of the Delhi Sultanate, the Islamic regime that otherwise ruled Hindustan after the conquests ofTimur. But in the early 16th century AD the central Asian conqueror Babur laid claim to the Sultanate and some Rajputs supported him while others ended their lives in battle with him. Her husband's death in battle (in 1527 AD?) was only one of a series of losses Meera experienced in her twenties, including the death of her mother. She appears to have despaired of loving anything temporal and turned to the eternal, transforming her grief into a passionate spiritual devotion that inspired in her countless songs drenched with separation and longing.

Meera's devotion to Krishna was at first a private thing but at some moment it overflowed into an ecstasy that led her to dance in the streets of the city. Her brother-in-law, the new ruler of Chittorgarh, was Vikramaditya, an ill-natured youth who strongly objected to Meera's fame, her mixing with commoners and carelessness of feminine modesty. There were several attempts to poison her.^[2] Her sister-in-law Udabai is said to have spread defamatory gossip.

At some time Meera declared herself a disciple of the guru Ravidas^[3] ("guru miliyaa raidasjee") and left for the centre of Krishnaism, Vrindavan. She considered herself to be a reborn gopi, Lalita, mad with love for Krishna. Folklore informs us of a particular incident where she expressed her desire to engage in a discussion about spiritual matters with Rupa Goswami, a direct disciple of Chaitanya and one of the foremost saint of Vrindavan that time who, being a renunciate celibate, refused to meet a woman. Meera replied that the only true man (purusha) in this universe is Lord Krishna. She continued her pilgrimage, "danced from one village to another village, almost covering the whole north of India".^[4] One story has her appearing in the company of Kabir in Kashi, once again causing affront to social mores. She seems to have spent her last years as a pilgrim in Dwarka, Gujarat. It is said that Mirabai disappeared into the Dwarkashish Murti (Image of Lord Krishna) in front of a full audience of onlookers.

Meera's songs are in a simple form called a pada (verse), a term used for a small spiritual song, usually composed in simple rhythms with a repeating refrain, collected in her Padavali. The extant versions are in a Rajasthani and Braj, a dialect of Hindi spoken in and around Vrindavan(the childhood home of Krishna), sometimes mixed with Rajasthani, and in Gujarati:

That dark dweller in Braj

Is my only refuge.

O my companion, worldly comfort is an illusion,

As soon you get it, it goes.

I have chosen the indestructible for my refuge,

Him whom the snake of death will not devour.

My beloved dwells in my heart all day,

I have actually seen that abode of joy.

Meera's lord is Hari, the indestructible.

My lord, I have taken refuge with you, your maidservant

Although Meera is often classed with the northern Sant bhaktis who spoke of a formless divinity,^[1] there is no doubt that she presents Krishna as the historical master of the Bhagavad Gita who is, even so, the perfect Avatar of the eternal, who is omnipresent but particularly focused in his icon and his temple. She speaks of a personal relationship with Krishna as her lover, lord and master. The characteristic of her poetry is complete surrender. Her longing for union with Krishna is predominant in her poetry: she wants to be "coloured with the colour of dusk" (the symbolic colour of Krishna).

A COURTESY OF WIKIPEDIA .COM  

                                          A TRIBUTE TO TRUTH OF ETERNAL LOVE <3 :-)

Bekar

Bahut Jee Liyah Hain Maine Kabil-e-Duniya Banke

Ab Main Thori Si Bekar Ban Na Chahti Hoon

Kiya Hain Tarafdari Khud Ki Maine Har Roz 

Aab Main Zara Sa Khud Se BeAsar Hona Chahti Hoon

Bahut Jaga Hoon Ab tak Sab Ke Liyeh

Aab Sadiyon Ke Nind Sonah Chahti Hoon

Bahut Bhaga Hoon Main Khud Ke Liyeh

Ab Khud Ke Liyeh Rona Chahti Hoon 

Bahut Jiya Hain Sharifon Ke Jaise 

Ab Thori Kharab Hona Chahti Hoon

Na Kavi Chhute Nasha Sari Zindegi 

Aisi  Sharab Pina Chahti Hoon

Yaadon Ke Saaye Mein Guzri Meri Jo Aaj Hain

Laakhon Ahesaah Mein Simte Ek Anokhi Andaz Hain

Kavi Gum Thi Meri Sadah Rashmein Duniya Ki Taal Pe

Ab Dabana Chahti Hoon Khud Ki Cheekhti Jo Awaz Hain

Aye Khudah Na Lena Pareh Karbat

Aisi Ek Pahechan Mujhe Waqsh De 

Duniya Se Ho Jau Be Fiqar Ab Toh

Aisi Fariyaad Meri Adah Kar De 

Bahut Thak Gayi Hoon Main

Ab Ruk Jati Hoon Chup ke se

Meri Bekar-e-Badan Pe Dal Dena Safed Chadar

Aye Meri Khudah Chhup Ke Se

M-e-Z :-)

                                                                                

Art of Devotion & Desire

                                                                             
PERHAPS the most important feature of erotic imagery in early and medieval India, whether in the temples of Khajuraho or the Konark temple complex in Orissa is its importance in the religious iconography of this period. In the Chandella temples of Khajuraho, built between the 10th and 12th centuries, erotic sculpture constitutes less than 10 per cent of the artistic representation. Even so, the variety and boldness of erotic expression here, its spatial positioning on the temples, and the remarkable detail of its execution, suggest that it was meant to hold the attention of the pilgrim and devotee, and was an essential part of the temple-going experience.

The self-appointed guardians of Hinduism and Hindu culture today often turn violent when Hindu goddesses are shown nude in artistic representation. The imagery of Khajuraho offers with unambiguous visual clarity the role of sexuality in certain cultural and religious customs of Hinduism. The broad umbrella of Hinduism could accommodate diverse cultural and philosophical strands - of renunciation, asceticism and detachment on the one hand, and of religio-cultural practices in which sex played an important part, on the other. And it was the religious environment of the temple rather than any secular space that formed the setting for the depiction of erotic themes.

In a scholarly study of erotic sculpture in India, Devangana Desai has traced the historical development of erotic motifs, the role of sex in a religion which sanctioned sexual depiction in temple art, and the socio-economic milieu in which sexual depiction was sustained and glorified (Erotic Sculpture of India: A Socio-Cultural Study, Tata McGraw-Hill Publishing Company, New Delhi, 1975). Desai has recently published a book exclusively on Khajuraho (The Religious Imagery of Khajuraho, Franco-Indian Research Pvt Ltd, Mumbai, 1997) in which she has extensively used textual and inscriptional sources to contextualise the art and architecture of Khajuraho.


The imagery of Khajuraho offers with unambiguous clarity the role of sexuality in certain cultural and religious customs of Hinduism. Here, a representation of Siva with his consort Parvathi

 By the 10th century, the depiction of sex in art entered a qualitatively new phase. Erotic motifs were no longer confined to less prominent spaces in temples. All forms of sexual depiction, ranging from the sexual and auto-erotic attitudes of men and women, including gods and goddesses, members of the aristocracy, and ascetics to group sexuality and bestiality were displayed ostentatiously on the exteriors and in the interiors of the temples. This was a period when in Central India, feudalism developed and temple building became an important activity and statement of power of the feudal ruling classes. Temples became larger and grander with ample space for artistic expression. According to Devangana Desai the four principal dynasties that spread across Central India - the Chandellas of Jejakabhukti (who built the Khajuraho temples), the Kalachuris of Dahala, the Khachchapaghatas of Gwalior and the Paramaras of Malwa - engaged in extensive temple building, which shared common building conventions despite differences owing to the stamp of the particular dynasty and other local factors.

It was under the Chandella rulers that Khajuraho acquired religious and political importance. It was a place of Sakta worship in the 9th century. By the middle of the 10th century a fully developed style of Nagara temple architecture emerged. Devangana Desai has divided the temples of Khajuraho into two groups based on the treatment of erotic motifs in their art. The first group comprises the structures built between A.D. 950 and 1050, which include the Lakshmana, Parsvanatha, Vishvanatha, Devi Jagadamba, Chitragupta and Kandariya Mahadeva shrines. The second group, constructed between A.D. 1050 and 1150, includes the Vamana, Adinatha, Javari, Chaturbhuja and Duladeva temples. The shrines in the first group, built when the Chandellas were in the ascendant and Khajuraho became the capital city of a wealthy ruling class, depict a large number of erotic motifs, whereas those constructed when the dynasty was on the decline have fewer representations of a sexual nature.

Different erotic motifs are represented on the Lakshmana temple; a Vaishnava shrine built in the Nagara style and one of the earliest of the temples to be built in Khajuraho by Yasovarman. The temple's consecration took place under Yasovarman's son Dhangadeva. The motifs - of coital and pre-coital couples and erotic groups - are depicted in prominent and recessed parts of the temple. According to Devangana Desai, one of the most frenzied orgiastic scenes in Indian art is depicted on the Lakshmana temple on a one-foot-long frieze, which also depicts persons involved in the preparation of an aphrodisiac. Erotic motifs are present also at the Parsvanatha temple, a Jain temple built soon after the construction of the Lakshmana temple. This is significant as Jains were known for their puritanical attitude towards sex. Devangana Desai suggests that the presence of erotic representation may have been owing to the influence of Tantrism on Jainism in the medieval period; it may also have been because of the fact that the same guild of artisans built the Lakshmana and Parsvanatha temples and introduced common motifs on them. The erotic representation on the latter is, however, more restrained than on the former - orgiastic representation, for example, is absent in the Parsvanatha temple.

The other 11th century temples belonging to the first group - the shrines of Visvanatha, Chitragupta, Devi Jagadamba and Kandariya Mahadeva - present more or less the same kind of erotic images. Of these the Visvanatha and Kandariya Mahadeva temples, the largest and the most beautiful of the Khajuraho temples, are Saiva shrines. The Devi Jagadamba temple was originally a Vaisnava shrine, and the Chitragupta temple is the only Saura shrine on the site. Devangana Desai points to the fact of the more chaste and restrained divine erotic group in the Visvanatha temple being replaced by the orgiastic group in the Kandariya Mahadeva temple built 25 years later, which supports the hypothesis that there was an increase in sensuality in this period. The fact that people who figure in the orgiastic representations in Khajuraho are members of high society or ascetics also suggest that the occasions depicted may have been religious rituals in which royal families and Tantriks participated. The second group of temples were built between the middle of the 11th century and the middle of the 12th century, a period which saw the political decline of the Chandellas. These temples, which belong to the Jaina, Vaishnava and Saiva faiths, treat erotic motifs with more restraint. This has nothing to do with sectarian differences. In fact, Devangana Desai points to the interesting fact that shrines of the same faith, situated on the same site and built within 50 years of each other, treat erotic motifs with considerable difference. That there was a decline in the affluence of the patron of the temples during this period may partially explain the sobering in the sexual representation. Alongside there was also a change in attitudes and something of a backlash against the milieu of eroticism, says Devangana Desai, pointing to the Prabhodachandrodaya, a pronouncedly anti-erotic play written by the court dramatist, Krisna Misra.

Sexual depiction in religious art first served a magico-religious function. The worldly interest in sex changed the sacred nature of sexual depictions leading to its secularisation and sensualisation and to it acquiring an aesthetic of its own. The historical progression of erotic imagery in Indian art, Devangana Desai argues, reveals the constant interaction of its magico-religious origins, which centre around fetishistic beliefs and fertility cults, and the worldly, pleasure-giving aspects of sex, outlined in the texts on eroticism written at that time. The profuse depiction of sex in temple art from A.D. 900 onwards suggests the permeation of Tantric elements into Puranic Hinduism and its influence on all major religions. The highly secretive nature of the Tantric religion, including its sexual-religious practices, does not fit in with the public display of erotic themes in temples at this time. Tantrism may have influenced erotic temple art, without being functionally related to its cultist and secretive aspects.

An important socio-cultural factor that contributed to the profusion of erotic imagery in temples was the growth of feudalism and the spurt in temple building activity - not just in Khajuraho but all over India - by feudal chiefs, military officers and other dignitaries. These persons competed among themselves in constructing splendid and ornate palaces. Feudalism also led to the disintegration of centralised polities and the strengthening of local interests and forces. Regionalism and the development of regional conventions strongly influenced art forms, just as they influenced other aspects of cultural life, such as literature, language and costume. This had its influence on the erotic motif, between A.D. 900 and AD 1400, which got standardised and cannonised into regional patterns of art.

Courtesy of PARVATHI MENON of  THE HINDU .

                                                                                

Raat

Kaal Raat Kuch Ajeeb Thi

Main Tanha Apne Bistar Pe Leti Thi

Aur Ek Sannata Ek Khamoshi Ke Laabmi Chadar

Meri Charon Aur Faili Thi

Mujhe Lapet Ke Rakkhi Thi Ek Ajnabi Si Alam

Kahene Ko toh Main Tanha Thi

Lekin Koi Aur Mere Saath Tha

Ek Saaya Ek Parchhayee Ki Aahat 

Saaf Saaf Mehsoos Kar Rahi thi

Hum Soch te Hain Jo Dikhai Nehi Dete

Jo Anchhuah Hain Ya Jiski Koi Wajood Nehi

Lekin Jiski Mawjud gi Hum Mehsoos Karte Hain

Ya Toh Woh Koi Darr Hain Ya Phir Koi Wahem Hain

Lekin Jiski Shaas ki Chuwan

Jiski Chalne Ahat Sunai Deta Hain

Uski  Wajood Par Hum Kaise Sawal Utha Sakte Hain?

Ek Anjan Khamoshi Ko Kaise Koi Naam De Sakte Hain ?

Chand thi Asmaan Pe Ek tukron ke Jaise

Aur Hawa Dheeme Dheeme Chal Rahi Thi

Raat ki Gaherai Barhti Gayi Aur Woh Aur Kareeb Aata Gaya

Usse Dekha Maine Khamosh Khara Tha Meri Pass 

Na Usne Mujhe Darane ki Koshish Ki

Aur Nahi Koi Ajnabi Si Harqat Kiya

Sirf Uski Bahut Vari Aur Gaheri Shaashe Meri Tan Chu Rahi Thi

Jaise  Sadiyon se Woh Apne Dil  mein kuch Chhupa Ke Rakkha Hain

Woh Kuch Kahena Chahta Hain 

Lekin Bayan Nehi Kar Sakta

Usse Meri Saath Chahiye Bass

Aur Kuch Nehi Chahiye Usse

Meri Karbaton Se Bister Ki Chadar Pe 

Silwaten Par Rahi thi Kaye Tarha Ki

Aur Meri Mathe Pe Darar-e-Sikan Par Rahi Thi

Kya Karu Main Kuch Samajh Mein Nehi Aa Rahi Thi

Lekin Woh Meri Iss Bekar Koshih Ke Bawajood Bhi

Wohi Khara Tha Aur Mujhe Kuch Bata Raha Tha 

Lekin Mujhe Sunai Nehi Diya Aur Main Dabe Pair

Ghar se Nikal Ke Bahar Bagiche Mein Tahal ne Lagi

Wo mere Picha Nehi Kiya Sirf  Ek  Lambi Shaas Chor Ke

Woh Chala Gaya Na Jaane Kaha Phir Dikhai Nehi Diya

Woh Kya Kahena Chahta Tha ? Kya Woh Koi Atma Tha

Ya Meri hi Khamosh Jaasbaat Koi Saya Ka Sakal Leke Samne Khara Tha

Woh koun Tha ? 

                                                                              M-e-Z   :-)

                                                                               

Black & White & Many Colors

 

                                                                           
The first edition of Hamlet was published in 1603, from a previous sketch composed several years earlier, the second one following in 1604, under the title of "The Tragical Historie of Hamlet, Prince of Denmarke. By William Shakespeare. Newly imprinted and enlarged to almost as much againe as it was, according to the true and perfect coppie." In comparing the two editions we find a remarkable improvement in the command of language, with greater philosophic depth, and a wondrous insight into what is most hidden and obscure in men's characters and motives.

The action is the same, as also is the order of the dialogues and soliloquies; but the later are much elaborated, always with an accession of dramatic force. The following will serve as an instance:


Edition of 1603
HAMLET: My lord, 'tis not the sable suit I wear;
No, nor the tears that still stand in my eyes,
Nor the distracted 'havior in the visage,
Nor altogether mixt with outward semblance,
Is equal to the sorrow of my heart;
Him have I lost I must of force forego,
Thes, but the ornaments and suits of woe.

Edition of 1604
HAMLET: 'Tis not alone my inky cloak, good mother,
Nor customary suits of solemn black,
Nor windy suspiration of forced breath;
No, nor the fruitful river in the eye,
Nor the dejected 'havior of the visage,
Together with all the forms, modes, shows of grief,
That can denote me truly; these, indeed, seem,
For they are actions that a man might play;
But I have that within which passeth show;
These, but the trappings and the suits of woe.


In this, the profoundest of plays, is a tragedy of thought inspired by continual and never-satisfied meditation on human destiny and the dark perplexity of the events of this world, one calculated to call forth the very same meditation in the minds of the spectators. This enigmatical work resembles somewhat those irrational equations in which a fraction of unknown magnitude always remains, that will in no way admit of solution. Much has been said, much written, on this piece, and yet no critic who anew expresses himself on it will entirely coincide with his predecessors. What most astonishes us is the fact that with such hidden purposes, with a foundation laid in such unfathomable depth, the whole should, at first view, exhibit an extremely popular appearance. The dread appearance of the ghost takes possession of the mind and the imagination almost at the very commencement; then the play within the play, in which, as in a glass, we see reflected the crime whose fruitlessly attempted punishment constitutes the subject-matter of the piece; the alarm with which it fills the king; Hamlet's pretended and Ophelia's real madness; her death and burial; the meeting of Hamlet and Laertes at her grave; their combat and the grand termination; lastly, the appearance of the young hero Fortinbras, who, with warlike pomp, pays the last honors to an extinct family of kings; the interspersion of comic characteristic scenes with Polonius, the courtiers and the grave-diggers, which have each of them their signification--all this fills the stage with and animated and varied movement. The only point of view from which this piece might be judged to be less theatrical than other tragedies of Shakespeare, is that in the last scenes the main action either stands still or appears to be retrograde. This, however, was inevitable, and lay in the nature of the subject. The whole is intended to show that a too close consideration, which exhausts all the relations and possible consequences of a deed, must cripple the power of action; as Hamlet himself expresses it:
 
And thus the native hue of resolution
Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought;
And enterprises of great pith and moment,
With this regard, their currents turn awry,
And lose the name of action.



The mystery which surrounds the play centres in the character of Hamlet himself. He is of a highly cultivated mind, a prince of royal manners, endowed with the finest sense of propriety, susceptible of noble ambition, and open in the highest degree to an enthusiastic admiration of that excellence in others in which he himself is deficient. He acts the part of madness with unrivalled power, convincing the persons who are sent to examine into his supposed loss of reason merely by telling them unwelcome truths and rallying them with the most caustic wit. But in the resolutions which he so often embraces and always leaves unexecuted, his weakness is too apparent; he is not solely impelled by necessity to artifice and dissimulation, he has a natural inclination for crooked ways; he is a hypocrite toward himself; his far-fetched scruples are often mere pretexts to cover his want of determination--thoughts, as he says, which have
----but one part wisdom
And ever three parts coward.

He has been condemned both for his harshness in repulsing the love of Ophelia, which he himself had cherished, and for his insensibility at her death. But he is too much overwhelmed with his own sorrow to have any compassion to spare for others; besides, his outward indifference gives us by no means the measure of his internal perturbation. On the other hand, we evidently perceive in him a malicious joy, when he has succeeded in getting rid of his enemies, more through necessity and accident, which alone are able to impel him to quick and decisive measures, than by the merit of his own courage, as he himself confesses after the slaying of Polonius. Hamlet has no firm belief either in himself or in anything else. From expressions of religious confidence he passes over to skeptical doubts; he believes in the ghost of his father as long as he sees it, but as soon as it has disappeared, it appears to him almost in the light of a deception. He has even gone so far as to say "there is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so;" with him the poet loses himself here in the labyrinths of thought, in which neither end nor beginning is discoverable. The stars themselves, from the course of events, afford no answer to the questions so urgently proposed to them. A voice from another world, commissioned, it would appear, by heaven, demands vengeance for a monstrous enormity, and the demand remains without effect; the criminals are at last punished, but, as it were, by an accidental blow, and not in the solemn way requisite to convey to the world a warning example of justice; irresolution, cunning treachery and impetuous rage hurry on to a common destruction; the less guilty and the innocent are equally involved in the general ruin. The destiny of humanity is here exhibited as a gigantic Sphinx, which threatens to precipitate into the abyss of skepticism all who are unable to solve her dread enigmas.

As one example of the many niceties of Shakespeare which have been generally misunderstood, may be mentioned the style in which the player's speech about Hecuba is conceived. It has been the subject of much controversy among commentators whether this was taken by Shakespeare from himself or from another, and whether, in the praise of the piece of which it is supposed to be a part, Hamlet was speaking seriously, or merely meant to ridicule the tragical bombast of his contemporaries. It seems never to have occurred to them that this speech must not be judged by itself, but in connection with the place where it is introduced. To distinguish it in the play itself as dramatic poetry, it was necessary that it should rise above the dignified poetry of the former in the same proportion that theatrical elevation always soars above simple nature. Hence Shakespeare has composed the play in Hamlet altogether in sententious rhymes full of antitheses. But this solemn and measured tone did not suit a speech in which violent emotion ought to prevail, and the poet had no other expedient than the one of which he made choice--overcharging the pathos. Unquestionably the language of the speech in question is falsely emphatical; but this fault is so mixed up with true grandeur that a player practiced in artificially calling forth in himself the emotion he is imitating may certainly be carried away by it. Besides, it will hardly be believed that Shakespeare knew so little of his art as not to be aware that a tragedy in which there is a lengthy epic relation of a transaction that happened so long before as the destruction of Troy, could neither be dramatic nor theatrical.

There is something altogether indefinable and mysterious in the poet's delineation of this character--something wild and irregular in the circumstances with which the character is associated. We see that Hamlet is propelled rather than propelling. But why is this turn given to the delineation? We cannot exactly tell. Doubtless much of the very charm of the play is its mysteriousness. It awakes not only thoughts of the grand and the beautiful, but of the incomprehensible. Its obscurity constitutes a portion of its sublimity. This is the stage in which most minds are content to rest, and perhaps better so, with regard to the comprehension of Hamlet.

The final appreciation of the Hamlet of Shakespeare belongs to the development of the critical faculty. Goethe, Coleridge, Schlegel, Lamb, Hazlitt, Mrs. Jameson and other writers out of number, some of the very highest order of excellence, have brought to the criticism and explanation of this play a most valuable fund of judgment, taste and aesthetical knowledge. To condense what is most deserving of remembrance in these admirable productions within due limits would be impossible. We must, therefore, place ourselves in the condition of one who has, however imperfectly, worked out in his own mind a comprehension of the idea of Shakespeare.

The opening of Hamlet is one of the most absorbing scenes in the Shakespearean drama. It produces its effect by the supernatural being brought into the most immediate contact with the real. The sentinels are prepared for the appearance of the ghost, Horatio being incredulous, but they are all surrounded with an atmosphere of common life. "Long live the king," "'Tis bitter cold," "Not a mouse stirring," and the familiar pleasantry of Horatio, exhibit to us minds under the ordinary state of human feeling. At the moment when the recollections of Bernardo arise into that imaginative power which belongs to the tale he is about to tell, the ghost appears. All that was doubtful in the narrative of the supernatural vision--what left upon Horatio's mind the impression only of a "thing"--because as real as the silence, the cold and the midnight. The vision is then "most like the king"--

Such was the very armor he had on.

The ghost remains but an instant, and we are again among the realities of common life. When it reappears there is still a tinge of skepticism in the soldiers:

Shall I strike at it with my partisan?

But their incredulity is at once subdued, and a resolution is taken by Horatio upon the conviction that what he once held as "fantasy" is a dreadful being, of whose existence there can be no doubt.
Let us impart what we have seen tonight
Unto young Hamlet: for, upon my life,
This spirit, dumb to us, will speak to him.

We have here, by anticipation, all the deep and inexplicable consequences of this vision laid upon young Hamlet; it is his destiny.

Here we need not stop to analyze the scenes and acts that follow, for of all Shakespeare's plays this is the most familiar, and it is also one on which most men have already formed their own opinion. It will be sufficient to dwell very briefly on a few of its most striking features, and first as to the question of Hamlet's madness. Before the appearance of the ghost his spirit has been wounded by a sudden blow--a father dead, a crown snatched from him, a mother disgracefully married. Thus he looks with a jaundiced eye on "all the uses of this world," on the "unweeded garden" that he fain would leave to be possessed by "things rank and gross in nature." Yet he communes with himself in a tone which bespeaks the habitual refinement of his thoughts, and his words shape themselves into images that belong to a high and cultivated intellect. Then comes the dread vision, with its appalling revelation, which lays on him a responsibility greater than his nature can bear. The mental disturbance which it causes becomes apparent while he thinks aloud, almost as soon as the ghost has disappeared; but he is not mad either in the popular or in the physiological sense; it is merely the mental derangement of a noble, but not an heroic, nature, sinking beneath a burden which it cannot bear and must cast away. Coleridge attributes what he consider's Hamlet's assumed eccentricity, after the ghost scene, to "the disposition to escape from his own feelings of the overwhelming and supernatural by a wild transition to the ludicrous, a sort of cunning bravado, bordering on delirium." It is under the immediate influence of the disorder in his soul that he resolves to feign madness. With a mind horribly disturbed with thoughts beyond mortal reach he still believes that the habitual powers of his intellect can control this disturbance and even render it an instrument of his safety. It has been observed that if there be anything disproportioned in his mind, it seems to be this only--that intellect is in excess; it is too subtle; it is even ungovernable. It is in his own high and overwrought consciousness of intellect that he describes the perfect man, "in apprehension how like a god." Much that requires elucidation in the play can be explained by this exceptional predominance of the intellectual faculty, and to this, perhaps, belongs the idea of pretending insanity as a cloak for his real designs.

Here begins the complexity of Hamlet's character, and in his new guise he is thus presented to us by Ophelia, then for the first time showing the preoccupation, which afterward appears in many of his sayings:
He took me by the wrist, and held me hard;
Then goes he to the length of all his arm;
And with his other hand thus o'er his brow,
He falls to such perusal of my face,
As he would draw it. Long stay'd he so;
At last,--a little shaking of mine arm,
And thrice his head thus waving up and down,
He raised a sigh so piteous and profound,
That it did seem to shatter all his bulk,
And end his being. That done, he lets me go;
And, with his head over his shoulder turned,
He seem'd to find his way without his eyes;
For out o' doors he went without their help,
And, to the last, bended their light on me.

In this was none of the "antic disposition" which Hamlet thought fit to put on; still less was it, as Polonius deemed, the "ecstasy of love" produced by Ophelia's coldness. It was the utterance, so far as it could be uttered, of his sense of the hard necessity that was upon him to go forth to a mortal struggle with evil powers and influences; to tear himself from all the soothing and delicious fancies that would arise out of his growing affection for the simple maid whom he treated so roughly. Under the pressure of his vow that the ghost's injunction should "live within the volume of his brain, unmix'd with baser matter," all else in the world has become to him mean and unimportant. Love was now to him "a trivial fond record," and philosophy "the saws of books."

That the king and his courtiers considered Hamlet insane, and freely talked of his insanity, is of no significance, for this was merely the "antic disposition," and the sarcasm directed against them, in which he appeared to be merely wandering, was but to relieve the bitterness of his soul. They did not see through his disguise any more than did Polonius, who, while pronouncing him "far gone," yet could not help noticing "how pregnant his replies are." In truth, the old man was himself verging on imbecility, though he had not wit enough to become entirely crazy--a condition which presupposes the possession of brains.

In the scene with Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Hamlet is natural enough; for with them, as his old school-fellows, he is perfectly at ease, and he is again the Hamlet they knew of old--the gentleman and the scholar. He even discloses to them a glimpse of the deep melancholy which weighs on his soul: "O God, I could be bounded in a nut-shell, and count myself a king of infinite space, were it not that I have bad dreams." He knows that his friends were sent to him as spies; but he suppresses his feelings, and bursts out into the majestic piece of rhetoric beginning, "What a piece of work is man!"--one that could only have been conceived by a being of the highest intellectual power, in the fullest possession of his faculties. In the scene with the players, also Hamlet is entirely himself. He has escaped for a moment from the one o'ermastering thought, but even here that thought follows him: "Dost thou hear me, old friend; can you play the murder of Gonzago?" Then comes the soliloquy, "Now I am alone," in which, as Charles Lamb expresses it, "the silent meditations with which his bosom is bursting are reduced to words for the sake of the reader." Hamlet's indecision is not due to want of courage, as appears in several instances--
My fate cries out,
And makes each petty artery in this body
As hardy as the Nemean lion's nerve.

But his will is subject to his higher faculties, and he sees no course clear enough to satisfy his understanding. He would have been greater had he been less great.

In his great soliloquy, "To be or not to be," he is interrupted by Ophelia in the midst of a most solemn train of thought. When she says to him--

My lord, I have remembrances of yours.

--it is probable that his rude denial of having given Ophelia remembrances, and his "Ha, ha! are you honest?" with all the bitter words that follow, are meant to indicate the disturbance which is produced in his mind by the clashing of his love for her with the predominant thought which now makes all that belongs to his personal happiness worthless. His bitterness escapes in generalizations; it is not against Ophelia, but against her sex, that he exclaims. To that gentle creature, the harshest thing he says is: "Be thou as chaste as ice, as pure as snow, thou shalt not escape calumny." Coleridge things that the harshness in Hamlet's manner is produced by his perceiving that Ophelia was acting a part toward him and that they were watched. Perhaps, as Lamb expresses it, these "tokens of an unhinged mind" are mixed "with a certain artifice, to do." At any rate, the gentle and tender Ophelia is not outraged. Her pity only is excited; and, if the apparent rudeness of Hamlet requires a proper appreciation of his character to reconcile it with our admiration of him, Shakespeare has at this moment most adroitly presented to us that description of him which Goethe anticipated:
The courtier's, soldier's, scholar's, eye, tongue, sword,
The expectancy and rose of the fair state.

Hamlet recovers a temporary tranquillity. He has something to do, and that something is connected with his great business. He has to prepare the players to speak his speech. Those who look upon the surface only may think these directions out of place; but nothing can really be more appropriate than that such rules of art, so just, so universal and so complete should be put by Shakespeare into the mouth of him who had preëminently "the scholar's tongue." The satisfaction he takes in the device, the hopes which he has that his doubts may be resolved lend a real elevation to his spirits, which may pass for his feigned madness. He utters whatever comes uppermost; and the freedoms which he takes with Ophelia, while they are equally remote from bitterness or harshness, are such as in Shakespeare's age would not offend pure ears.


The test is applied; the king is "frighted with false fire," and the elation of Hamlet's mind is at its height. Then comes the climax--"Now could I drink hot blood." Yet he is not raving, and in the scene with the queen he vindicates his own sanity:
 
It is not madness
That I have uttered: bring me to the test,
And I the matter will re-word; which madness
Would gambol from.

The question may be asked, why is it, when we think upon the fate of the poor stricken Ophelia, that we never reproach Hamlet? We are certain that it was no "trifling of his favor" that broke her heart; we are assured that his seeming harshness did not sink deep into her spirit; we believe that he loved her more than "forty thousand brothers;" and yet she certainly perished through Hamlet and his actions. But we blame him not, for her destiny was involved in his. Says a writer in Blackwood's Magazine: "Soon as we connect her destiny with Hamlet we know that darkness is to overshadow her, and that sadness and sorrow will step in between her and the ghost-haunted avenger of his father's murder. Soon as our pity is excited for her it continues gradually to deepen, and, when she appears in her madness, we are as deeply moved as when we hear of her death. Perhaps the description of that catastrophe by the queen is poetical rather than dramatic; but its exquisite beauty prevails, and Ophelia, dying and dead, is still the same Ophelia that first won our love. Perhaps the very forgetfulness of her, throughout the remainder of the play, leaves the soul at full liberty to dream of the departed. She has passed away from the earth like a beautiful dream."

Garrick omitted the grave-diggers. He had the terror of Voltaire before his eyes. The English audiences compelled their restoration, for there was something in the scene that brought Hamlet home to the humblest in the large reach of his universal philosophy. The conversation of the clowns before he comes upon the scene is, indeed, pleasantry mixed with sarcasm; but, the moment that Hamlet opens his lips, the meditative richness of his mind is poured out upon us, and he grapples with the most familiar and yet the deepest thoughts of human nature, in a style that is sublime from its simplicity. The catastrophe is in perfect accord with the ultimate prostration of his mind. It is the result of an accident produced we know not how. The general massacre on which the curtain falls has been the subject of much adverse comment; but Shakespeare does nothing without excellent reasons.

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Sarangi

The Sārangī (Hindi: सारंगी, Punjabi: ਸਰੰਗੀ, sarangī) is a bowed, short-necked string instrument of India which is originated from Rajasthani folk instruments. It plays an important role in India's Hindustani classical music tradition. Of all Indian instruments, it is said to most resemble the sound of the human voice – able to imitate vocal ornaments such as gamakas (shakes) and meend (sliding movements). It is also said to be the hardest Indian instrument to master.


HISTORY
The word sarangi is derived from two Hindi words: sau (meaning "hundred") and rang (meaning "colour"). This is because the sound of the sarangi is said to be as expressive and evocative as a hundred colours. Its origins are unknown, however most people believe that it became a mainstream instrument in the mid 18th Century. Notoriously difficult to play and tune, the sarangi has traditionally been used primarily for accompanying singers (shadowing the vocalist's improvisations),in recent times it has become recognised as a solo instrument by the efforts of Ram Narayan and Sabri Khan. Other current celebrated performers include Sultan Khan, Kamal Sabri, Dhruba Ghosh and Aruna Narayan Kalle, while eminent maestros of the past have included Bundu Khan, Nathu Khan, Sagiruddin Khan, Gopal Mishra and Shakoor Khan.

The repertoire of sarangi players is traditionally very closely related to vocal music. Nevertheless, a concert with a solo sarangi as the main item will probably include a full-scale raga presentation with an extensive alap (the unmeasured improvisatory development of the raga) in increasing intensity (alap-jor-jhala) and several compositions in increasing tempi. As such, it is on a par with other instrumental styles such as for sitar, sarod, and bansuri. This full-fledged raga development has its roots in the Dhrupad style of raga presentation.

Sarangi music is often vocal music. It is rare to find a sarangi player who does not know the words of many classical compositions. The words are usually mentally present during performance, and performance almost always adheres to the conventions of vocal performance including the organisational structure, the types of elaboration, the tempo, the relationship between sound and silence, and the presentation of khyal and thumri compositions. The vocal quality of sarangi is in a quite separate category from, for instance, the so-called gayaki-ang of sitar which attempts to imitate the nuances of khyal while overall conforming to the structures and usually keeping to the gat compositions of instrumental music. (A gat is a composition set to a cyclic rhythm.)


The sarangi is also a traditional stringed musical instrument of Nepal, commonly played by the Gaine or Gandarbha ethnic group.
 
Structure
Carved from a single block of wood, the sarangi has a box-like shape, usually around two feet long and around half a foot wide. The lower resonance chamber is made from a hollowed-out block of tun (red cedar) wood and covered with parchment and a decorated strip of leather at the waist which supports the elephant-shaped bridge. The bridge in turn supports the huge pressure of approximately 40 strings. Three of the strings – the comparatively thick, tight and short ones – are bowed with a heavy horsehair bow and "stopped" not with the finger-tips but with the nails, cuticles and surrounding flesh (talcum powder is applied to the fingers as a lubricant). The remaining strings are resonance strings or tarabs (see: sympathetic strings), numbering up to around 35, divided into 4 different "choirs". On the lowest level are a diatonic row of 9 tarabs and a chromatic row of 15 tarabs, each encompassing a full octave plus 1–3 extra notes above or below. Between these lower tarabs and the main playing strings lie two more sets of longer tarabs, which pass over a small flat ivory bridge at the top of the instrument. These are tuned to the important tones (swaras) of the raga. A properly tuned sarangi will hum and buzz like a bee-hive, with tones played on any of the main strings eliciting echo-like resonances. A few sarangis use strings manufactured from the intestines of goats - these harken back to the days when rich musicians could afford such strings.
                                   

                                                                        
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