Premik Maharaj

Premik Maharaj (1844 - 1908)

(from "Offering Flowers, feeding skulls")   

Andul is a village in the Howrah area, across the Ganges from Calcutta, with banana plants, lakes overgrown with water lilies, and an old raja’s mansion with great Roman-style pillars and an ancient courtyard. In Andul, there is a group that has been performing Kali-kirtan for over one hundred years: the Andul Kali-kirtan Samiti. This biographical sketch of its founder comes from interviews with current group members and a biography written by the group.

This group or “club” (the English word is used) was founded by a Shakta devotee named Mahendranath Bhattacharya, more popularly called Premik Maharaj. He composed many Kali-kirtan songs, with his friend Krishnachan- dra Mallik adding the music and rhythms. During Premik’s time there were about fifty singers and musicians in the group, and it was patronized by An- dul’s royal family. At present, the group has about thirty-five members.

Premik was born in Andul in 1844. His father was a philosopher, a pandit of the Nyaya school, and his grandfather Ramaratna was a scholar and sadhu. Ramaratna was said to have died by his own will (icchamrityu), sitting on the shore of the Ganges and doing mantras until his life-force left his body (his two wives died willingly on his funeral pyre).
As a child, Premik studied Sanskrit with his father, and later at college gained the title Kaviratna, Jewel of Poets. His father suggested that Premik recite from the “Chandi (or Devi-Mahatmya)” and vow not to drink water until he could compose one poem daily. He married early, and later became head pandit at the local English high school, but his real enthusiasm was for spiritual practice. He let his wife and sons handle his earnings and household decision making, and eventually he left his job to do meditation full time.
Premik was first given initiation by his mother, as was his family’s tradition, and he took Shakta initiation from a holy woman in Birbhum named Jote Ma, who had become an ascetic and never married through fear of widowhood and love of the goddess. Her personal deity was Kali, and Jote Ma was said to be able to grant miraculous healing and fertility to barren couples. She would walk on water to collect flowers for worship services, and it was said that she did not die, but disappeared into a temple. A few years later, Premik took advanced initiation into the tantric kulachara lineage from Kulavadhuta Purnananda Natha. This included study of classical tantric texts. He received the initiation name Kulavadhuta Vashishthanandanatha. Premik spent most of the day in worship, and after eating would return to meditating at night. On many nights he would not sleep, but sat instead doing ritual worship and visualization of the goddess.
Premik also wrote several plays, some of which were performed by local drama groups, and Baul songs (these songs later acted as a basis of the Baul lineage of Shibpur). However, he was best known for his poems and songs, understood by devotees to have been written while he was in a state of bhava. His songs are still sung by the kirtan group today. Premik was a contemporary of Ramakrishna Paramahamsa of Dakshineswar, and was invited to sing by Ramakrishna’s chief disciple, Vivekananda.

The Kali-kirtan group at Andul showed me a variety of Premik’s songs. Many of Premik’s songs show his concern with salvation at the time of death, and are reminiscent of Ramprasad’s style of writing. He combined the passion of emotional Shakta bhakti with classical tantric study and initiation. His songs focused upon his love of the goddess; I include a few in translation:

Ma, I am very much afraid
Thinking of whether I shall be delivered.
I do not know, O dark Mother
Whether you will appear to me on that day
When with a frightful look
Yama will come and grab me!
O Ma, I don’t have anyone of my own
Only you, in all of the three worlds.
There are shades of illusion (maya-chaya)
In the form of son and daughter
And they can fill the senses.
Because I am conscious, things are easy
 When I lose that consciousness I’ll be pulled down,
Into the vortex.
People will say too easily
“His time is up, and he is dead.”
O Ma, giver of strength
 Shelter me with your third eye.
And look after me on that day, Ma,
So that I am not tricked by Time, and pulled away.

This next song is also concerned with salvation, though there is a touch of coercion toward the goddess at the end of the poem, implying that the goddess must help him, or she will lack worshipers on earth:



When shall all of life’s troubles end
Dark One, for how long must I stay here?
On the oceans of life
There are great, surging waves,
And I am frightened.
Be merciful to me, Ma.
Because when the day ends
This poor soul will drown.
“Bhavani” is the most important word in my life
And thinking “Ma” is the most essential thing.
1 have lost my relatives
And now [like a river]
I will lose my banks I am adrift.
Please take me to the shore, O wife of Shiva.
O Tara, you are the deliverer of lowly ones
Won’t you save this lowly person as well?
Accept this devotee.
For who else will take the name of Tarini On this earth?

Sometimes Premik takes the role of Kali and Shiva’s son, and seeks salvation on his mother’s lap:

The lotus of my heart is trembling,
My maddened mind is enjoying the fun of it.
The madman [Shiva] and madwoman [Kali] have gathered together
A whole crowd of mad people
And look, Anandamayi [Kali] is dancing in bliss!
All of my sense organs and instincts watch in amazement.
And during this chaos
The doors of wisdom swing open.
Premik the madman says,
You cannot fool me, Ma, with these events.
If one’s parents are mad
How can they expect their son to be sane?
Listen, Ma Tara, you relieve us of our burdens
I give you a special appeal.
At the end of my life
When I float on the waters
Lift me up onto your lap
As your son.

The current kirtan group sings on special occasions, the large goddess puja celebrations (especially Durga, Kali, and Jagaddhatri), the birth celebrations of sannyasis and saints, temple openings and when invited by families (especially at births). For performing, they wear reddish Shakta robes, with wigs of matted hair (jata) hanging down toward the ground, in the style of traditional tantric ascetics. Singing begins with an invocation to the goddess, praising her. They give about twenty to twenty-five performances a year, in West Bengal and in other areas of India. Other Kali-kirtan groups in and around Calcutta include the Siddeshvari Bagbazar Kali Kirtan group, the Mauri Kali Kirtan samiti, the Jhodhat Kali Kirtan samiti, and the Salkia Vinapana Kali Kirtan samiti. Such kirtan groups demonstrate the more social side of the Shakta tradition, opposing the renunciant tantric strand with its emphasis on isolation and death.


===============

Some other bhajans:

There's a huge hullabaloo in my lotus heart;
my crazy mind is getting me in trouble again!
It's a carnival for crazies—
two madcaps copulating!
Again and again
the Bliss-Filled Goddess collapses
in ecstacy
on the Lord Ever-Blissful.
I stare at this, speechless;
even the senses and six enemies are silent.
Taking advantage of this confusion,
the door of knowledge opens.
Crazy Premik says,
Everyone tells me I'm muddle-headed,
but can the son of confirmed crackpots
be normal?
Listen Ma Tara, Remover of the World's Sins,
I'm going to cherish this moment;
and when at the end
I'm submerged in the water
take Your son onto Your lap!

------------------

Oh Ma Kali, for a long time now
You've masqueraded in this world
as a clown.
But I am punished inside,
and there's nothing funny about Your jokes.
Oh Ma, sometimes You're the air we breathe,
sometimes the sky in the seventh underworld
furthest away, and
sometimes the water in the sea.
You assume so many forms!
I have traveled to countless lands
and worn countless costumes; even so,
Your marvels—ha!—never cease.
Premik says,
My mind is a cad; that's why it's sunk
in attachments. Why else
would these tricks of Yours
keep working?

-------------

What shall I say to You, Sankari?
I am speechless at Your behavior.
You play the part of the World-Mother,
but Your son has no clothes.Worse,
You dance on that corpse Siva
engrossed in Your own thoughts.
I have so many sad things to say:
my Mother is the Queen of the Universe,
but me She has made a coolie
bearing loads in the
meaningless marketplace of the world.
You may not be ashamed of this,
but I am dying of shame.
Premik says, This naked Mother of mine
ruins me through shame.
You have given me so much pain, Ma,
but still I forget it all,
still I call You:"Ma! Ma!"
Where else shall I stand?
I'll stop all this sulking; just listen, Ma, Mountain's Daughter:
if I can die with "Kali!" on my lips,
I'll split the brahmarandhra
and be free.

----------------------

Your behavior proves how stingy You are, Ma.
You always give to Your devotees—
or so I've heard from the Agamas.
You who gave rise to the world,
tell me—what did You give to whom?
In the very act of giving
You bind people in the net of illusion
and give them pain.
I've heard Your name
Full of Food
but that Trident-Bearer is a beggar!
He was so hungry
He had to eat poison—
naked, with nothing on!
If You're really Kubera's Mother,
as people say,
why do You have a necklace of bones
at Your throat?
Oh Goddess draped with the snakes of death,
the extent of Your riches is well known.
Premik says, Oh Ma Kali,
it hurts me to say this:
I don't want money, Syama,
so since You can't give me any
it's all right. But You aren't even able
to grant me Your vision!

--------------

Look at all these waves
whipped up in the ocean of my mind!
I see them and my mouth goes dry;
there's no escape.
Mind, the helmsman is an amateur
and the six enemies have taken the oars.
No one listens to what I say.
The situation is grave.
I see that they are working to sink us in mid-river.
The boat is constructed from five pieces of wood,
but there are holes in nine places.
It hasn't been repaired since it was built—
nor have the nine been stopped up.
Worse, the boat is heavy, filled with loads of sins.
I fear a crashing wave
will crack it apart.
Premik says, In this situation
keep the raft of Hari's name close by.
What's there to fear in a storm? It's just a temporary display.
When the boat sinks,
get onto the raft,
and by Hari's grace
you'll reach the other side.

-------------------

Everyone's nocking to Gajan
boys and girls, men and women
parading new clothes
over fields, into fairs.
Some go 'round fasting, scorched by the terrible sun,
while others stroll happily eating!
What can I say?
They're boors all—
jumping in herds
onto mats, into hopes,
roaming life to life
punctured
by nails of illusion.
With strong ropes of karma
they tie themselves up to the treetop of Being
and swing.
But at length
the day ends, the fun stops;
for the pleasures of Cadak
last only three days
until death.
Premik says,
Renouncer! brother!
You've haven't sampled the real Cadak.
It brings peace, not illusion,
even in an illusory world.
But in order to get it
devotion and reason are musts.
Be your own kind of renouncer;
day and night speak this truth.
Since everyone says Gajan is ruined
by too many renouncers
stay at home.
What use are other people?
How many can you invite inside?
Even if you've never used it,
the scaffolding for the jump
has been there since your birth.
So make up your mind; climb up
and jump down
but gently and secretly!
Pierce those lotuses
with the darts of your serpent missile.
Again, why not sport in the house of bliss?
Spin yourself from the thousand-tipped Cadak tree.
If you take this type of whirl, at your end
you'll cook death.

---------

Tell me, what are you doing now, Mind,
sitting there with a blind eye?
There's someone in your own house
but you're so oblivious
you've never noticed!
There's a secret path
with a small room at the end—
and what an amazing sight inside:
caskets filled with jewels
that you never even knew about.
There's a lot of coming and going along that path.
Go, upstairs, to the highest room,
and you'll see the moon rising.
Premik says excitedly,
Keep your eyes open;
if you want to be awake in yoga
you must travel this secret way

--------------

Ma, are you really dead?
Did you breathe your last, saying "Kali"?
Ma, with your "Kali Kali!"
you smeared Death's face with soot.
You didn't flinch, but easily crossed
the sea of this world.
Taking a natural and corruptible form,
you came to earth to play,
your past deeds binding you to good fortune.
But now in the stream of time
that play is over, and you have floated
blissfully into the Being
of the Blissful One Herself.
Premik says, Oh Ma—
you have merged with my Syama Ma;
so clap your hands in bliss!

----------------

There’s a huge hullabaloo
in my lotus heart;
my crazy mind is getting me in trouble again.
It’s a carnival for crazies— two madcaps copulating!
Again and again
the Bliss-Filled Goddess collapses in ecstasy
on the Lord Ever-Blissful.
I stare at this, speechless;
even the senses and six enemies are silent.
Taking advantage of this confusion, the door of knowledge opens.
Crazy Premik says,
everyone tells me I’m muddle-headed,
 but can the son of confirmed crackpots be normal?
Listen Mā Tārā, Remover of the World’s Sins,
I’m going to cherish this moment;
and when at the end
I’m submerged in the water
take Your son onto Your lap.



-------------

Mind,
why should we go any more to the world?
Instead let’s proceed to that town where day and night, blissful,
the full moon shines bright no waxing or waning no opposites reigning
no hunger or thirst and no eating or drink — everyone plays with delight.
Nectar oozes from an ambrosial moon but poison streams out from the sun.
With no cakora bird to follow your whim
and drink to the brim the moon steals its nectar away.
Mind, he who swallows this poison’s exactly like you
— going to and fro forgetting his learning in the grip
 of a venomous burning.
Says Premik:
It’s a fortunate person who lives in that town.
For those who believe in a personal God, The Unformed to Form
makes a turning