ଠାକୁର ପୁରୁଣା, ମନ୍ଦିର ନୂଆ, ରାଜା ଅହଙ୍କାରୀ, ଏବଂ ଅନେକ ଭୋକିଲା ଓ ବାସହରା ସାଧାରଣ ଲୋକ – ସେମାନେ ସମସ୍ତେ ଥିଲେ ୧୨୩ ବର୍ଷ ତଳର କବିତାରେ। କିନ୍ତୁ ସେତେବେଳେ ଥିଲେ ଜଣେ ସନ୍ଥ ଯେ କି ରାଜାଙ୍କୁ କହିଥିଲେ ସତ୍ୟ ଯଦିଓ ବା ସେ ଜାଣିଥିଲେ ଅପେକ୍ଷମାନ ତାଙ୍କର ଭବିତବ୍ୟ ଭାଗ୍ୟ। ଆଉ ସେଠାରେ ଥିଲେ ଜଣେ କବି ଯେ କି ଲେଖିଥିଲେ ତାଙ୍କ ନିଜ ସମୟାନ୍ତରର କଥା – ସେ ଥିଲେ ରବୀନ୍ଦ୍ରନାଥ ଠାକୁର।

ତାଙ୍କର ‘କାହିଣୀ’ ନାମକ ସଂକଳନରେ ଥିବା ଏହି କବିତା ‘ଦୀନୋଦାନ’ ରାଜତ୍ଵରେ ଥିବା ସାଧାରଣ ଲୋକଙ୍କ ଦୁଃଖଦୈନ୍ୟକୁ ଆମ ସମ୍ମୁଖକୁ ଆଣେ, କାଳ୍ପନିକ ହୋଇଥାଉ କି ନଥାଉ, ଯାହା ସାର୍ବଜନୀନ ମଣିଷତ୍ଵ ଆଧାରରେ ପ୍ରତିଷ୍ଠିତ ନୁହେଁ।

ଆଜିର ସାଂସ୍କୃତିକ, ସାମାଜିକ ଓ ରାଜନୈତିକ ପରିସ୍ଥିତି ମଧ୍ୟରେ କବିତାଟି ଅତି ସାମ୍ପ୍ରତିକ କବିତା ପରି କ୍ଷୁବ୍ଧ କରିଦିଏ।

ସ୍ମିତା ଖାଟୋରଙ୍କ ଦ୍ଵାରା ବଙ୍ଗଳାରେ ଆବୃତ୍ତି ଶୁଣନ୍ତୁ

ପ୍ରତିଷ୍ଠା ପାଣ୍ଡ୍ୟାଙ୍କ ଦ୍ଵାରା ଇଂରାଜୀରେ ଆବୃତ୍ତି ଶୁଣନ୍ତୁ

দীনদান

নিবেদিল রাজভৃত্য, “মহারাজ, বহু অনুনয়ে
সাধুশ্রেষ্ঠ নরোত্তম তোমার সোনার দেবালয়ে
না লয়ে আশ্রয় আজি পথপ্রান্তে তরুচ্ছায়াতলে
করিছেন নাম-সংকীর্তন। ভক্তবৃন্দ দলে দলে
ঘেরি তাঁরে দরদর-উদ্‌বেলিত আনন্দধারায়
ধৌত ধন্য করিছেন ধরণীর ধূলি। শূন্যপ্রায়
দেবাঙ্গন; ভৃঙ্গ যথা স্বর্ণময় মধুভাণ্ড ফেলি
সহসা কমলগন্ধে মত্ত হয়ে দ্রুত পক্ষ মেলি
ছুটে যায় গুঞ্জরিয়া উন্মীলিত পদ্ম-উপবনে
উন্মুখ পিপাসাভরে, সেইমতো নরনারীগণে
সোনার দেউল-পানে না তাকায়ে চলিয়াছে ছুটি
যেথায় পথের প্রান্তে ভক্তের হৃদয়পদ্ম ফুটি
বিতরিছে স্বর্গের সৌরভ। রত্নবেদিকার ’পরে
একা দেব রিক্ত দেবালয়ে।”

শুনি রাজা ক্ষোভভরে
সিংহাসন হতে নামি গেলা চলি যেথা তরুচ্ছায়ে
সাধু বসি তৃণাসনে। কহিলেন নমি তাঁর পায়ে,
“হেরো প্রভু, স্বর্ণশীর্ষ নৃপতিনির্মিত নিকেতন
অভ্রভেদী দেবালয়, তারে কেন করিয়া বর্জন
দেবতার স্তবগান গাহিতেছ পথপ্রান্তে বসে?”
“সে মন্দিরে দেব নাই” কহে সাধু।

রাজা কহে রোষে,
“দেব নাই! হে সন্ন্যাসী, নাস্তিকের মতো কথা কহ।
রত্নসিংহাসন ’পরে দীপিতেছে রতনবিগ্রহ—
শূন্য তাহা?”

“শূন্য নয়, রাজদম্ভে পূর্ণ” সাধু কহে,
“আপনায় স্থাপিয়াছ, জগতের দেবতারে নহে।”

ভ্রূ কুঞ্চিয়া কহে রাজা, “বিংশ লক্ষ স্বর্ণমুদ্রা দিয়া
রচিয়াছি অনিন্দিত যে মন্দির, অম্বর ভেদিয়া
পূজামন্ত্রে নিবেদিয়া দেবতারে করিয়াছি দান,
তুমি কহ সে মন্দিরে দেবতার নাহি কোনো স্থান!”

শান্ত মুখে কহে সাধু, “যে বৎসর বহ্নিদাহে দীন
বিংশতি সহস্র প্রজা গৃহহীন অন্নবস্ত্রহীন
দাঁড়াইল দ্বারে তব, কেঁদে গেল ব্যর্থ প্রার্থনায়
অরণ্যে, গুহার গর্ভে, পথপ্রান্তে তরুর ছায়ায়,
অশ্বত্থবিদীর্ণ জীর্ণ মন্দিরপ্রাঙ্গণে, সে বৎসর
বিংশ লক্ষ মুদ্রা দিয়া রচি তব স্বর্ণদীপ্ত ঘর
দেবতারে সমর্পিলে। সে দিন কহিলা ভগবান —
“আমার অনাদি ঘরে অগণ্য আলোক দীপ্যমান
অনন্তনীলিমা-মাঝে; মোর ঘরে ভিত্তি চিরন্তন
সত্য, শান্তি, দয়া, প্রেম। দীনশক্তি যে ক্ষুদ্র কৃপণ
নাহি পারে গৃহ দিতে গৃহহীন নিজ প্রজাগণে
সে আমারে গৃহ করে দান! “চলি গেলা সেই ক্ষণে
পথপ্রান্তে তরুতলে দীনসাথে দীনের আশ্রয়।
অগাধ সমুদ্র-মাঝে স্ফীত ফেন যথা শূন্যময়
তেমনি পরম শূন্য তোমার মন্দির বিশ্বতলে,
স্বর্ণ আর দর্পের বুদ্‌বুদ্‌!”

রাজা জ্বলি রোষানলে,
কহিলেন, “রে ভণ্ড পামর, মোর রাজ্য ত্যাগ করে
এ মুহূর্তে চলি যাও।”

সন্ন্যাসী কহিলা শান্ত স্বরে,
“ভক্তবৎসলেরে তুমি যেথায় পাঠালে নির্বাসনে
সেইখানে, মহারাজ, নির্বাসিত করো ভক্তজনে।”

Destitute Donation

Said the royal attendant, “Despite entreaties, king,
The finest hermit, best among men, refuses shelter
In your temple of gold, he is singing to god
Beneath a tree by the road. The devout surround him
In numbers large, their overflowing tears of joy
Rinse the dust off the earth. The temple, though,
Is all but deserted; just as bees abandon
The gilded honeypot when maddened by the fragrance
Of the flower to swiftly spread their wings
And fly to the petals unfurling in the bush
To quench their eager thirst, so too are people,
Sparing not a glance for the palace of gold,
Thronging to where a flower in a devout heart
Spreads heaven’s incense. On the bejewelled platform
The god sits alone in the empty temple.”

At this,
The fretful king dismounted from his throne to go
Where the hermit sat beneath the tree. Bowing, he said,
“My lord, why have you forsaken god’s mighty abode,
The royal construction of gold that pierces the sky,
To sing paeans to the divine here on the streets?’
“There is no god in that temple,” said the hermit.

Furious,
The king said, “No god! You speak like a godless man,
Hermit. A bejewelled idol on a bejewelled throne,
You say it’s empty?”

“Not empty, it holds royal arrogance,
You have consecrated yourself, not the god of the world.”

Frowning, said the king, “You say the temple I made
With twenty lakh gold coins, reaching to the sky,
That I dedicated to the deity after due rituals,
This impeccable edifice – it has no room for god!”

Said the tranquil hermit, “The year when the fires
Raged and rendered twenty thousand subjects
Homeless, destitute, when they came to your door
With futile pleas for help, and sheltered in the woods,
In caves, in the shade of trees, in dilapidated temples,
When you constructed your gold-encrusted building
With twenty lakh gold coins for a deity, god said,
‘My eternal home is lit with countless lamps
In the blue, infinite sky; its everlasting foundations
Are truth, peace, compassion, love. This feeble miser
Who could not give homes to his homeless subjects
Expects to give me one!’ At that moment god left
To join the poor in their shelter beneath the trees.
As hollow as the froth and foam in the deep wide ocean
Is your temple, just as bereft beneath the universe,
A bubble of gold and pride.”

Flaring up in rage
The king said, “You false deceiver, leave my kingdom
This instant.”

Serenely the hermit said to him,
“You have exiled the one who loves the devout.
Now send the devout into the same exile, king.”

ନିଃସହାୟ ଦାନ

ଦରବାରୀ ପରିଚାରକ କହିଲେ, “ନିବେଦନ କରିବା ସତ୍ତ୍ୱେ ରାଜା,
ସମସ୍ତଙ୍କ ମଧ୍ୟରେ ଶ୍ରେଷ୍ଠ ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀଙ୍କୁ ଆଶ୍ରୟ
ଦେବାକୁ ମନାକଲେ ତୁମ ସୁବର୍ଣ୍ଣ ମନ୍ଦିରରେ, ସେ ଠାକୁରଙ୍କ ପାଇଁ
ଭଜନ ଗାଇଲେ ରାସ୍ତା କଡ଼ ଗଛମୂଳେ। ଭକ୍ତମାନେ ବହୁ ସଂଖ୍ୟାରେ
ଘେରି ରହିଥିଲେ ତାଙ୍କୁ ସେମାନଙ୍କ ଆଖିର ଆନନ୍ଦାଶ୍ରୁରେ ପୃଥିବୀର
ଧୂଳି ଧୋଇଦେବା ପାଇଁ। ମନ୍ଦିର ରହିଲା ଜନଶୂନ୍ୟ ହୋଇ, ସତେ କି ଯେମିତି
ମହୁ ଭର୍ତ୍ତି ସୁନାରଙ୍ଗ ଠେକି ଛାଡି ଫୁଲର ବାସ୍ନାରେ ମତୁଆଲା
ମହୁମାଛିମାନେ ସେମାନଙ୍କ ପକ୍ଷ ଦ୍ରୁତ ସଂଚାଳିତ କରି ଉଡ଼ିଗଲେ
ଜଙ୍ଗଲରେ ପାଖୁଡ଼ା ମେଲି ନାଚୁଥିବା ଫୁଲଙ୍କ ପାଖକୁ
ସେମାନଙ୍କ ଆଗ୍ରହର ଶୋଷ ମେଣ୍ଟେଇବାକୁ, ଲୋକେ ମଧ୍ୟ ଠିକ୍‌ ସେମିତି,
ସୁନାର ମହଲଠୁ ଆଖି ଫେରେଇ ଧାଇଁ ଚାଲିଲେ ସେଠାକୁ
ଯେଉଁଠାରେ ଭକ୍ତଟିଏର ହୃଦୟରେ ପ୍ରସ୍ଫୁଟିତ ଫୁଲଋ
ସ୍ଵର୍ଗୀୟ ମହକ ସଞ୍ଚରି ଯାଉଥିଲା। ରତ୍ନଖଚିତ ମଣ୍ଡପରେ
ଠାକୁର ଏକା ବସିଥିଲେ ମନ୍ଦିର ଭିତରେ।“

ଏ କଥାରେ,
ଉତ୍ତେଜିତ ରାଜା ସିଂହସନରୁ ଉଠି ବାହାରିଲେ ଯିବାକୁ
ଯେଉଁଠାରେ ସେ ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀ ବସିଥିଲେ ଗଛମୂଳେ। ପ୍ରଣାମପୂର୍ବକ ପଚାରିଲେ,
“ହେ ମହାଭାଗ, ଠାକୁରଙ୍କ ସୁବର୍ଣ୍ଣ ନିର୍ମିତ ନଭଶ୍ଚୁମ୍ବୀ ସଶକ୍ତ ଆସ୍ଥାନକୁ କାହିଁକି
ଥରହର କଲେ, କ’ଣ ଏଠି ରାସ୍ତାକଡ଼େ ବସି ସେହି ଦିବ୍ୟଶକ୍ତିଙ୍କ ଜୟଗାନ କରିବାକୁ?”
“ଠାକୁର ନାହାନ୍ତି, ସେଠି ସେହି ମନ୍ଦିରରେ”, ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀ କହିଲେ।

କ୍ରୋଧିତ ହୋଇ
କହିଲେ ରାଜା, “ଠାକୁର ନାହାନ୍ତି! କୌଣସି ଦିବ୍ୟଭାବ ଶୂନ୍ୟ ମଣିଷ ପରି
କଥା କହୁଛ ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀ। ରତ୍ନଖଚିତ ସିଂହାସନରେ ରତ୍ନର ପ୍ରତିମା,
ଆଉ ତୁମେ କୁହ ତାହା ଶୂନ୍ୟ?”

“ନୁହେଁ ଶୂନ୍ୟ, ସେଠାରେ ରହିଛି ରାଜକୀୟ ଅହଂକାର,
ତୁମେ କରିଛ ସେଠାରେ ତୁମର ଅଭିଷେକ, ବିଶ୍ଵନିୟନ୍ତା ଠାକୁରଙ୍କର ନୁହେଁ।“

କ୍ରୋଧିତ ହୋଇ ରାଜା କହିଲେ, “ତୁମେ ତେବେ କହୁଛ ବିଂଶ-ଲକ୍ଷ ସ୍ଵର୍ଣ୍ଣ ମୁଦ୍ରା
ଖର୍ଚ୍ଚରେ ମୁଁ ଯେଉଁ ନଭଶ୍ଚୁମ୍ବୀ ମନ୍ଦିର ଗଢ଼ିଛି, ଯେଉଁଠାରେ ସମସ୍ତ ରୀତିନୀତି
ଅନୁଯାୟୀ ଠାକୁରଙ୍କୁ ସ୍ଥାପନା କରିଛି, ସେହି ଅନବଦ୍ୟ ଭବନରେ
ଠାକୁର ନାହାନ୍ତି!”

ଶାନ୍ତ ଭାବେ ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀ କହିଲେ, “ଯେଉଁ ବର୍ଷ ନିଆଁ ଲାଗି କୋଡ଼ିଏ ହଜାର ଲୋକ
ହେଲେ ବାସହରା ଓ ବେସାହାରା, ସାହାଯ୍ୟ ପାଇଁ ଆସିଲେ ସେମାନେ
ତୁମ ନିକଟକୁ, ବୃଥାଗଲା ସେମାନଙ୍କ କାକୁତି ମିନତୀ, ଆଶ୍ରୟ ନେଲେ ଯାଇ
ସେମାନେ ଜଙ୍ଗଲରେ ଓ ପାହାଡ଼ ଗୁମ୍ଫାରେ, ଗଛର ଛାଇରେ
କିମ୍ବା ଭଗ୍ନ ମନ୍ଦିରରେ, ଆଉ ତୁମେ ଯେତେବେଳେ ବିଂଶ-ଲକ୍ଷ ସ୍ଵର୍ଣ୍ଣମୁଦ୍ରା ଖର୍ଚ୍ଚରେ
ଗଢ଼ିଲ ଦେବତାଙ୍କ ପାଇଁ ତୁମର ସୁନା-ଛାଉଣି ପ୍ରାସାଦ, ଠାକୁର କହିଲେ,
‘ଅନନ୍ତ ନୀଳ ଆକାଶରେ ମୋ ଶାଶ୍ଵତ ନିବାସ ଅସୁମାରି ଆଲୋକରେ ଅହରହ ଆଲୋକିତ,
ଯାହାର ଆଧାର ହେଉଛି ସତ୍ୟ, ଶାନ୍ତି, ଦୟା ଓ ପ୍ରେମ। ଏହି ଦୁର୍ବଳ କୃପଣ ଯେ କି
ନିଜ ବାସହରା ପ୍ରଜାଙ୍କୁ ଆଶ୍ରୟ ଦେଇ ପାରିଲାନି, ଆକାଂକ୍ଷା କରୁଛି
ମୋତେ ଘର ଦେବା ପାଇଁ!” ସେହି ସମୟରେ ହିଁ ଠାକୁର ଚାଲିଗଲେ
ଗଛ ତଳେ ରହୁଥିବା ସର୍ବସ୍ଵାନ୍ତମାନଙ୍କ ସହ ଏକାଠି ରହିବା ପାଇଁ।
ଗଭୀର ଓ ପ୍ରଶସ୍ତ ସମୁଦ୍ରର ଫେନରାଶି ପରି ତୁଚ୍ଛ ନିରର୍ଥକ
ତୁମର ଏହି ମନ୍ଦିର, ବ୍ରହ୍ମାଣ୍ଡର ପାଦ ତଳେ ପାଗଳାମୀ ପରି
ସ୍ଵର୍ଣ୍ଣ ଓ ଅହଂକାରର ବୁଦ୍‌ବୁଦ ସମ।’’

ରାଗ ତମତମ ହୋଇ
ରାଜା କହିଲେ, “ମୋ ରାଜ୍ୟ ଛାଡ଼ି ଚାଲିଯାଅ
ତୁମେ କପଟୀ ଓ ମିଥ୍ୟାଚାରୀ ଏଇ ମୁହୂର୍ତ୍ତରେ।“

ଶାନ୍ତସ୍ନିଗ୍ଧ ସ୍ଵରରେ ସନ୍ନ୍ୟାସୀ
କହିଲେ ରାଜାଙ୍କୁ, “ତୁମେ ତ ଭକ୍ତମାନଙ୍କୁ ଭଲ ପାଉଥିବା ଠାକୁରଙ୍କୁ
କରିଛ ନିର୍ବାସିତ, ଏବେ କରିଦିଅ ନିର୍ବାସିତ ସେଇ ଠାକୁରଙ୍କ ଭକ୍ତକୁ ହେ ରାଜା।’’

ଅରୁଣାଭ ସିହ୍ନାଙ୍କ ଦ୍ଵାରା ବଙ୍ଗଳାରୁ ଅନୁଦିତ।

କବିତାର ଏହି ଅନୁବାଦ ସର୍ବପ୍ରଥମେ Scroll.in ରେ ପ୍ରକାଶ ପାଇଥିବା ବେଳେ ଅନୁବାଦକଙ୍କ ସମ୍ମତି କ୍ରମେ ଏଠାରେ ପୁନଃପ୍ରକାଶ କରାଯାଇଛି।

ଓଡ଼ିଆ ଅନୁବାଦ: କପିଳାସ ଭୂୟାଁ

Poem : Rabindranath Tagore
English Translation : Arunava Sinha

ಸಿನ್ಹಾ ಅವರು ಅಶೋಕ ವಿಶ್ವವಿದ್ಯಾಲಯದ ಸೃಜನಶೀಲ ಬರವಣಿಗೆ ವಿಭಾಗದಲ್ಲಿ ಅಭ್ಯಾಸದ ಸಹಾಯಕ ಪ್ರಾಧ್ಯಾಪಕರು ಮತ್ತು ಅಶೋಕ ಅನುವಾದ ಕೇಂದ್ರದ ಸಹ ನಿರ್ದೇಶಕರು. ಪ್ರಶಸ್ತಿ ವಿಜೇತ ಅನುವಾದಕರಾದ ಅವರು ಬಂಗಾಳಿ ಮತ್ತು ಇಂಗ್ಲಿಷ್‌ ಭಾಷೆಗಳಲ್ಲಿ ಬರವಣಿಗೆ ಮಾಡುತ್ತಾರೆ, ಕ್ಲಾಸಿಕ್ ಮತ್ತು ಸಮಕಾಲೀನ ಕಾದಂಬರಿ, ಸೃಜನೇತರ ಮತ್ತು ಕವನ ಸಂಕಲನಗಳನ್ನು ಅನುವಾದಿಸಿದ್ದಾರೆ.

Other stories by Arunava Sinha
Illustration : Atharva Vankundre

ಅಥರ್ವ ವಂಕುಂದ್ರೆ ಮುಂಬೈ ಮೂಲದ ಕಥೆಗಾರ ಮತ್ತು ಚಿತ್ರಕಾರರು. ಅವರು 2023ರ ಜುಲೈ ತಿಂಗಳಿನಿಂದ ಆಗಸ್ಟ್ ತನಕ ಪರಿಯಲ್ಲಿ ಇಂಟರ್ನ್ ಆಗಿ ಗುರುತಿಸಿಕೊಂಡಿದ್ದಾರೆ.

Other stories by Atharva Vankundre
Translator : Kapilas Bhuyan

Kapilas Bhuyan is a senior journalist, writer and filmmaker. He has won the President's National Film Award Silver Lotus (2006), and international accolades like Best Short Film Award at Festival du Cinema de Paris and Jury's Special Mention at New York Short Film Festival (2004).

Other stories by Kapilas Bhuyan