Punarabi Jananam, Punarapi Maranam
As I look back at he lost years which withered away, I feel very much upset and throttled. What did I achieve? The fleeting time in the formidable age of my life: time spent nonchalantly, wasted and forgotten!
To rise from a great fall, one requires formidable courage, considerable luck and Divine Grace, and above all, destiny. Destiny, changes the course of life, alters outlooks and rewrites perceptions. Time, is a great healer, and helps man to gain experiences from foolishness, fine-tunes his capacity, brings out all his perfections, makes him think ahead of times, and makes him great, as destiny smiles on him. It makes him sober, steady and stable. He endures the present with past livid memories of Time.
What is life? What is its meaning? Tagore, eloquently and beautifully describes the boy at the age of 14, his whining ways, meandering paths, his tantrums, moody behaviour at times, restlessness, oscillating attitudes, best of times, etc. At 20, the boy sheds his Youth and he changes in his behvaiour, attitude, physically and mentally. He often finds fault with the world. At 25, a huge transformation to adulthood. A fascinating change that nature bestows on a human being. The age of adolescence brings all round change in a man; he becomes handsome, radiant. His attitude to life changes. His behvaiour changes instantaneously. His likes and dislikes vary. His voice quivers. He feels lonely. He seeks championship. This attracts him to the opposite sex. Life at 30 brings maturity and responsibility. He comes to face life. It is at this age, his championship ends in marriage. Blissful days follow. Championship strengthens. As he reaches 40, he becomes philosophically inclined, though buries himself with the bustle of life’s chores. As one is near to fifty, he becomes mature. He transforms himself. He leans more on philosophy to understand the ‘elixir of life’, and examines his life with contentment and disgust of his life, which oscillated like the pendulum. As he becomes sixty, he is in the midway- the fast life and future. Darkness seems to engulf him, people fade, near and dear ones slowly disappear. He sits forlorn, sad and in solitude, reflecting on the good, bad and ugly of his life. Reflection after reflection. Memory pulls its strings as he sits in melancholy, forlorn, and with musings of the good old days of the Past often coming in flashes.
William Shakespeare, the bard of Stafford Avon, has beautifully versed the seven stages at different ages of Man. Ben Johnson, his contemporary has poetically emphasized for a short life for enchantment rather than long for withered ending.
Lord Krishna in the Bhagavat Gita sings a symphony to drive home the two pillars of extremes, as life cycles are meant to be endured, cherished and enjoyed, which might oscillate from one corner to another. From womb to grave, man thinks that he is born to enjoy life in its pinnacle form. But before and after, he knows not what he was and what he will be. Adi Sankara’s “poonarabi jananam, punarpi maranam”, sums up all. Life is a mist, with birth and death cycles. Birth, Death, Rebirth…..
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