maatru-panchakam -- Mother's Day special -- May 10

[Guest guest]

“maatru-panchakam†of Sri Adi Sankara bhagavath-pAdA

 

May 10 is observed in large parts of the world --- certainly in the

English-speaking Western countries --- as “MOTHER’s Dayâ€. IN India, people

don’t make such a fuss about Mother’s Day, though for the sake of their dear

mothers they really ought to. This is the country that prides itself on the

ancient scriptural anthem --- “maatru devO bhava†(“regard thy mother as a

celestial on earth), a famous expression found in the Upanishad.

 

This posting of mine is dedicated to all mothers all across the world, and

especially to all “maatru-dEvis†who are members of this T’venkatam,

Oppiliappan and SriRangasri cyber-groups and happen to read this piece.

 

*****************************

 

Many are the exalted " vAkya-s " of the Upanishad – the “Word of the

Upanishadsâ€. To the faithful of the Vedantic Path ( " vedAnta-mArga " ), the

“Upanishad-vAkya†is an article of faith to be embraced in both precept and

practice, in letter and spirit, in part and entirety. One oft-quoted " vAkyam "

known to millions of Indians across the world is this one:

 

" maatru devO bhava! "

" Revere thy mother as if she were a celestial on earth! "

 

This pithy Veda ‘vAkya’ appears in the Taittiriya Upanishad under the

section known as " sIkshAvalli " .

 

At first glance, the statement does not appear profound. In fact, it sounds like

a bland and well-worn platitude, a “motherhood†statement, a piece of holy

didactic. Most truisms of the world indeed sound like dull platitudes when, long

after they were first enunciated, they get repeated a zillion times by a zillion

people who quote it at the drop of a zillion proverbial hats at every opportune

occasion. Such holy ‘vAkya-s’ sink so very deep into the collective

subconscious of ordinary people they usually end up being hailed as “gospel

truth; and “gospel truth†is so fundamental, so self-evident… and a tad

banal and boring too. The great sense of awe and wonder they first aroused, or

the curiosity and debates they once inspired amongst people, gradually pale and

then diminish altogether. The hallowed “vAkya†ends up being taken so much

for granted and for good reason too.

 

For much the same reason, I confess I too have long taken the famous Upanishad

'vAkya' of " maatru devO bhava! " as a rather didactic piece of Vedic injunction

-- a bland matter of fact in life: to be taken as much for granted in much the

same way a mother's love for her child is taken for granted everywhere in the

world, both human and animal.

 

In the year 2002, my mother died suddenly. At the time of her death, I was

living and working for over 10 years on foreign shores far away from home in

Chennai, India. I remember well the rude shock and pain I felt when word of her

death reached me via telephone. Until that precise moment in life I had blithely

assumed my mother would always be around in my world. The fact of her death

refused to register in my mind for quite a while. It felt absurd and unreal

somehow that she who had seemed for so long a constant integer of my existential

equation had now, at a single stroke of Fate’s pen, been simply deleted and

cancelled irrevocably. In those black moments of grief, I was moved to recall

Shelley’s famous lines:

 

“Now the last day of many days

All beautiful and bright as Thou,

The loveliest and the last, is dead;

So, arise, Memory, and write its praise!

Up, -- to thy wonted work! Come, trace

The epitaph of glory fled,

For now, the Earth has changed its face,

A frown is on the Heaven’s brow.â€

 

(“Recollectionâ€: Percy B. Shelley)

 

 

*************************

 

When one’s mother passes away the Earth’s face does seem to change and a

dark, permanent frown seems to appear on Heaven’s brow. When a parent is lost,

it is a bit like losing a little part of ourselves. When one’s mother dies, it

is the closest to a near-authentic near-death experience one can get. It then

takes months and sometimes years to overcome the sense of loss that envelops one

who has lost a dear mother. In those silent grieving years we search for solace

in poetry, in philosophy or religion. It becomes, we realize in time, very much

a search really for the meaning of our own existence on earth. It is also in

many ways unclear to our own selves, a silent but intense search for answers to

the larger unspoken questions about love, life, death and salvation.

 

For several years after my mother’s demise I found myself unable to come to

terms with the loss. And it was to help me overcome such feelings of

helplessness and drift that one day my wife recommended to me to read and

ruminate upon Adi Sankara bhagavathpAdA’s poignant Sanskrit elegy to the

memory of his mother, the 5-stanza “maatru-panchakamâ€.

 

The " maatru-panchakam " is balm to the bereaved soul. It is a fitting peaen, I

would like to think, to be sung in praise of all mothers whose memory the

children of this world value and cherish life-long. It is a hymn that is apt and

perfect indeed to recollect and recite on the occasion of “Mother’s Dayâ€.

 

Reproduced below is an English transliteration and translation of

" maatru-panchakam " in my own words. I hope readers will enjoy this little but

magnificent work of Adi Sankara. It does not matter which particular Vedantic

school or “matham†or “darsana†one belongs or is affiliated to in order

to be able to appreciate and enjoy the “maatru panchakam†... so long as one

loves one's mother and genuinely wishes to express gratitude to her on any

fitting occasion.

 

In a few follow-up postings over the ensuing days, I shall also pen a short

commentary on a select stanzas of the “maatru-panchakam†just to share with

you all the inner delight that I derived and experienced while reading this most

intimate, this most human of all of Sankara BhagavathpAdA’s works.

 

Happy Mothers Day!

 

maatru-panchakam

 

(1)

“aasthAm tAvadiyam prasUti samayE durvArshUla’vyayAda

nairUchyE tanushOshaNam malamayee sharayyA cha sAmvatsaree I

ekasyApi na garbha-bhAra bharaNa-klEsha-sasya yasyamakshamah:

dAtUm nishkrutimmunanntOpi tanayah: tasyai janannyai namah: II

 

In the throes of painful labor, O mother, You suffered much

To beget me who was then but mere burden of

Ugly, noxious foetal flesh

To be borne long and patiently--

And so you did with loving expectation;

For that one act of love ---

One act and the gift of suffering, O mother,

Nothing that I offer thee

Shall ever suffice as fitting repayment

Except eternal worship at thy feet!

(2)

gurukulamupasrutya svapnakAlE tu dhrushtvA

yatisamuchitavEsham prArudO mAm tvamuchhyai: I

gurukulamaBhasarvE prArudathE samaksham

sapadi charanayOh: tE mAtarastu praNAmah: II

 

How can I forget the overwhelming love you felt for me!

Remember the day, O mother, when you came running from home all the way

To the doorsteps of my Teacher’s school

Wth tears welling up in your eyes

To tell us about an ill-omened dream you’d had the night before—

A dream that spoke of the imminence of a mother’s loss

When the son appeared dressed in the ochre robes of the renunciate:

the nomadic mendicant ‘sannyAsi’.

You were heart-broken that day, O mother,

And you broke the hearts of my Teacher and my fellow-students too,

So forceful was your motherly passion!

(3)

na dattam mAtastE maraNasamayE tOyamapi vA

svabaddhA bA nOdEyA maraNadivasE shradha-vidhinA I

na japtO mAtastE maraNa-samayE tArakamanuh:

a kAlE samprAptE mayi kuru dayAm mAtaratulAm II

 

In your final moments, O mother, I regret I wasn’t around

To able to hold you in my arms, help quench your parched throat

With those morsels of water

Every son pours into the lips of a dying parent

As last farewell gift.

The vows of ‘sannyAsa’ I embraced, O mother,

Held me back from the rites of “shrAddha†meant for your soul;

Nor could I administer thee, as every dutiful son should,

The words of the sacred chant of “taraka-nAma mantra†as you breathed your

last.

I turned up late, so very late, O mother of mine,

To bade farewell.

Show me kindness, a mother’s kindness,

In your very last act of forgiveness for a son that failed.

(4)

mUkthA maNistvam nayanam mameti

rAjEti jeevEti chiram sutathvam I

ithyukthavatyA tava vaachi mAtah:

dadAmyaham tandulamEva-shushkam II

 

“My precious gemâ€, “my precious eyesâ€,

“My little kingâ€, “my very breath and life!â€

Such were the terms of endearment

You heaped on me, O mother of mine!

For all the love showered on me in such phrases,

I have only these few uncooked seeds of rice to pour

Upon your lifeless lips in solemn and final thanks --

A sacred obsequy: a token of the un-cancellable debt

A son owes the mother.

(5)

ambEti tAtEti shiveti tasmin

prasUtikAlE yadavOcha ucchaih: I

krishnEti gOvinda hare mukundE

tyahO janannyai rachitOyamajalih: II

 

When you brought me forth into the world

From an agonized but compassionate womb,

You uttered aloud, it is said, the holy names of God:

“O Divine Mother! O Lord my Father!

“O Shiva! O Krishna! Govinda!

“Harey! Mukunda!â€

That was an act of kindness too O mother of mine,

For that was the moment of my deliverance too!

How shall I thank thee for that deed

Except by offering thee my soul’s eternal worship!

 

***************************

 

dAsan

 

Regards,

Sudarshan MK

 

 

Own a website.Get an unlimited package.Pay next to nothing.*Go to

http://in.business./

[Guest guest]

Dear Swamin,

 

Excellent write-up. I couldn't stop my tears flowing down the cheeks after reading it, as I have just completed the Varus

habdeekam of my beloved mother. I can still feel the pain of the loss.

 

May I add a few lines, a quote from Mahabaratha regarding the loss of mother:

 

From the MahabharataSanti Parva, section cclxviTranslated by Sri Kisari Mohan Ganguli"The mother is the panacea for all kinds ofcalamities. The existence of the mother invests onewith protection; the reverse deprives one of allprotection. The man who, though divested of prosperityenters his house, uttering the words, "O mother!"- hasnot to indulge in grief. Nor does decrepitude everassail him.A person whose mother exists, even if he happens to bepossessed of sons and grandsons and even he himself ishundred years old, but in the eyes of his mother helooks like a child of two years of age. Whether themother is able or disabled, lean or robust, the son isalways protected by the mother. None else, accordingto the ordinance, is the son's protector.Then does the son become old, then does he becomestricken with grief, then does the world look empty inhis eyes, when he

becomes deprived of his mother.There is no shelter like the mother. There is norefuge like the mother. There is no defence like themother. There is no one so dear as the mother. Forhaving borne him in her womb the mother is the son'sdhatri. For having been the chief cause of his birth,she is his janani. For having nursed his young limbs,she is called amva (Amma). For nursing and lookingafter the son she is called sura. The mother is one'sown body. There is no mode of life that is superior toserving one's mother."Regards

 

Vaidheeswaran--- On Fri, 5/8/09, sudarshan madabushi <mksudarshan2002 wrote:

sudarshan madabushi <mksudarshan2002 "maatru-panchakam" -- Mother's Day special -- May 10tiruvenkatam , oppiliappan , Date: Friday, May 8, 2009, 3:42 PM “maatru-panchakam†of Sri Adi Sankara bhagavath-pAdA

May 10 is observed in large parts of the world --- certainly in the

English-speaking Western countries --- as “MOTHER’s Dayâ€. IN India, people

don’t make such a fuss about Mother’s Day, though for the sake of their dear

mothers they really ought to. This is the country that prides itself on the

ancient scriptural anthem --- “maatru devO bhava†(“regard thy mother as a

celestial on earth), a famous expression found in the Upanishad.

This posting of mine is dedicated to all mothers all across the world, and

especially to all “maatru-dEvis†who are members of this T’venkatam,

Oppiliappan and SriRangasri cyber-groups and happen to read this piece.

*****************************

Many are the exalted "vAkya-s" of the Upanishad – the “Word of

the Upanishadsâ€. To the faithful of the Vedantic Path

("vedAnta-mArga"), the “Upanishad-vAkya†is an article of faith to

be embraced in both precept and practice, in letter and spirit, in part and

entirety. One oft-quoted "vAkyam" known to millions of Indians across

the world is this one: "maatru devO bhava!"

"Revere thy mother as if she were a celestial on earth!"

This pithy Veda ‘vAkya’ appears in the Taittiriya Upanishad under the

section known as "sIkshAvalli". At first glance, the statement does not appear profound. In fact, it sounds

like a bland and well-worn platitude, a “motherhood†statement, a piece of

holy didactic. Most truisms of the world indeed sound like dull platitudes when,

long after they were first enunciated, they get repeated a zillion times by a

zillion people who quote it at the drop of a zillion proverbial hats at every

opportune occasion. Such holy ‘vAkya-s’ sink so very deep into the

collective subconscious of ordinary people they usually end up being hailed as

“gospel truth; and “gospel truth†is so fundamental, so self-evident…

and a tad banal and boring too. The great sense of awe and wonder they first

aroused, or the curiosity and debates they once inspired amongst people,

gradually pale and then diminish altogether. The hallowed “vAkya†ends up

being taken so much for granted and for good reason too.

For much the same reason, I confess I too have long taken the famous Upanishad

'vAkya' of "maatru devO bhava!" as a rather didactic piece of

Vedic injunction -- a bland matter of fact in life: to be taken as much for

granted in much the same way a mother's love for her child is taken for

granted everywhere in the world, both human and animal.

In the year 2002, my mother died suddenly. At the time of her death, I was

living and working for over 10 years on foreign shores far away from home in

Chennai, India. I remember well the rude shock and pain I felt when word of her

death reached me via telephone. Until that precise moment in life I had blithely

assumed my mother would always be around in my world. The fact of her death

refused to register in my mind for quite a while. It felt absurd and unreal

somehow that she who had seemed for so long a constant integer of my existential

equation had now, at a single stroke of Fate’s pen, been simply deleted and

cancelled irrevocably. In those black moments of grief, I was moved to recall

Shelley’s famous lines:

“Now the last day of many days

All beautiful and bright as Thou,

The loveliest and the last, is dead;

So, arise, Memory, and write its praise!

Up, -- to thy wonted work! Come, trace

The epitaph of glory fled,

For now, the Earth has changed its face,

A frown is on the Heaven’s brow.†(“Recollectionâ€: Percy B. Shelley)

*************************

When one’s mother passes away the Earth’s face does seem to change and a

dark, permanent frown seems to appear on Heaven’s brow. When a parent is lost,

it is a bit like losing a little part of ourselves. When one’s mother dies, it

is the closest to a near-authentic near-death experience one can get. It then

takes months and sometimes years to overcome the sense of loss that envelops one

who has lost a dear mother. In those silent grieving years we search for solace

in poetry, in philosophy or religion. It becomes, we realize in time, very much

a search really for the meaning of our own existence on earth. It is also in

many ways unclear to our own selves, a silent but intense search for answers to

the larger unspoken questions about love, life, death and salvation. For several years after my mother’s demise I found myself unable to come to

terms with the loss. And it was to help me overcome such feelings of

helplessness and drift that one day my wife recommended to me to read and

ruminate upon Adi Sankara bhagavathpAdA’s poignant Sanskrit elegy to the

memory of his mother, the 5-stanza “maatru-panchakamâ€. The "maatru-panchakam" is balm to the bereaved soul. It is a fitting

peaen, I would like to think, to be sung in praise of all mothers whose memory

the children of this world value and cherish life-long. It is a hymn that is apt

and perfect indeed to recollect and recite on the occasion of “Mother’s

Dayâ€.

Reproduced below is an English transliteration and translation of

"maatru-panchakam" in my own words. I hope readers will enjoy this

little but magnificent work of Adi Sankara. It does not matter which particular

Vedantic school or “matham†or “darsana†one belongs or is affiliated to

in order to be able to appreciate and enjoy the “maatru panchakam†... so

long as one loves one's mother and genuinely wishes to express gratitude to

her on any fitting occasion.

In a few follow-up postings over the ensuing days, I shall also pen a short

commentary on a select stanzas of the “maatru-panchakam†just to share with

you all the inner delight that I derived and experienced while reading this most

intimate, this most human of all of Sankara BhagavathpAdA’s works. Happy Mothers Day!

maatru-panchakam

(1) “aasthAm tAvadiyam prasUti samayE durvArshUla’vyayAda

nairUchyE tanushOshaNam malamayee sharayyA cha sAmvatsaree I

ekasyApi na garbha-bhAra bharaNa-klEsha-sasya yasyamakshamah:

dAtUm nishkrutimmunanntOpi tanayah: tasyai janannyai namah: II

In the throes of painful labor, O mother, You suffered much To beget me who was then but mere burden of Ugly, noxious foetal flesh To be borne long and patiently-- And so you did with loving expectation;

For that one act of love ---

One act and the gift of suffering, O mother,

Nothing that I offer thee Shall ever suffice as fitting repayment

Except eternal worship at thy feet!

(2)

gurukulamupasrutya svapnakAlE tu dhrushtvA

yatisamuchitavEsham prArudO mAm tvamuchhyai: I

gurukulamaBhasarvE prArudathE samaksham

sapadi charanayOh: tE mAtarastu praNAmah: II

How can I forget the overwhelming love you felt for me!

Remember the day, O mother, when you came running from home all the way

To the doorsteps of my Teacher’s school Wth tears welling up in your eyes To tell us about an ill-omened dream you’d had the night before—

A dream that spoke of the imminence of a mother’s loss

When the son appeared dressed in the ochre robes of the renunciate: the nomadic mendicant ‘sannyAsi’.

You were heart-broken that day, O mother, And you broke the hearts of my Teacher and my fellow-students too,

So forceful was your motherly passion!

(3)

na dattam mAtastE maraNasamayE tOyamapi vA

svabaddhA bA nOdEyA maraNadivasE shradha-vidhinA I

na japtO mAtastE maraNa-samayE tArakamanuh:

a kAlE samprAptE mayi kuru dayAm mAtaratulAm II

In your final moments, O mother, I regret I wasn’t around

To able to hold you in my arms, help quench your parched throat

With those morsels of water Every son pours into the lips of a dying parent As last farewell gift. The vows of ‘sannyAsa’ I embraced, O mother,

Held me back from the rites of “shrAddha†meant for your soul;

Nor could I administer thee, as every dutiful son should,

The words of the sacred chant of “taraka-nAma mantra†as you breathed your

last.

I turned up late, so very late, O mother of mine,

To bade farewell. Show me kindness, a mother’s kindness,

In your very last act of forgiveness for a son that failed.

(4)

mUkthA maNistvam nayanam mameti

rAjEti jeevEti chiram sutathvam I

ithyukthavatyA tava vaachi mAtah:

dadAmyaham tandulamEva-shushkam II

“My precious gemâ€, “my precious eyesâ€,

“My little kingâ€, “my very breath and life!â€

Such were the terms of endearment

You heaped on me, O mother of mine!

For all the love showered on me in such phrases,

I have only these few uncooked seeds of rice to pour

Upon your lifeless lips in solemn and final thanks --

A sacred obsequy: a token of the un-cancellable debt A son owes the mother.

(5)

ambEti tAtEti shiveti tasmin

prasUtikAlE yadavOcha ucchaih: I

krishnEti gOvinda hare mukundE

tyahO janannyai rachitOyamajalih: II

When you brought me forth into the world From an agonized but compassionate womb,

You uttered aloud, it is said, the holy names of God:

“O Divine Mother! O Lord my Father!

“O Shiva! O Krishna! Govinda!

“Harey! Mukunda!â€

That was an act of kindness too O mother of mine,

For that was the moment of my deliverance too!

How shall I thank thee for that deed

Except by offering thee my soul’s eternal worship! ***************************

dAsan Regards,

Sudarshan MK

Explore your hobbies and interests. Go to

http://in.promos./groups/

---

Oppiliappan Koil Varadachari Sadagopan

http://www.sadagopan.org