Wednesday, November 4, 2009

national song

In his Autobiography of an Unknown Indian, Nirad C. Chaudhuri has aptly described the atmosphere of the times in which the song was written. "The historical romances of Bankim Chatterjee and Ramesh Chandra Dutt glorified Hindu rebellion against Muslim rule and showed the Muslims in a correspondingly poor light. Chatterjee was positively and fiercely anti-Muslim. We were eager readers of these romances and we readily absorbed their spirit."
R.C. Majumdar, the historian, writes "During the long and arduous struggle for freedom from 1905 to 1947 'Bande Mataram' was the rallying cry of the patriotic sons of India, and thousands of them succumbed to the lathi blow of the British police or mounted the scaffold with 'Bande Mataram' on their lips. The central plot moves round a band of sanyasis, called santanas or children, who left their hearth and home and dedicated their lives to the cause of their motherland. They worshipped their motherland as the Goddess Kali;... This aspect of the Ananda Math and the imagery of Goddess Kali leave no doubt that Bankimchandra's nationalism was Hindu rather than Indian. This is made crystal clear from his other writings which contain passionate outbursts against the subjugation of India by the Muslims. From that day set the sun of our glory - that is the refrain of his essays and novels which not unoften contain adverse, and sometimes even irreverent, remarks against the Muslims". As Majumdar puts it, "Bankimchandra converted patriotism into religion and religion into patriotism."

Full song from Anand Math a Bengali novel is:

vande maataraM 
sujalaaM suphalaaM malayaja shiitalaaM 
sasyashyaamalaaM maataraM || 
 
 
 
 
shubhrajyotsnaa pulakitayaaminiiM 
pullakusumita drumadala shobhiniiM 
suhaasiniiM sumadhura bhaashhiNiiM 
sukhadaaM varadaaM maataraM || 
 
 
 
 koTi koTi kaNTha kalakalaninaada karaale 
koTi koTi bhujai.rdhR^itakharakaravaale 
abalaa keno maa eto bale 
bahubaladhaariNiiM namaami taariNiiM 
ripudalavaariNiiM maataraM || 
 
 
 
 
 tumi vidyaa tumi dharma 
tumi hR^idi tumi marma  
tvaM hi praaNaaH shariire 
 
baahute tumi maa shakti 
hR^idaye tumi maa bhakti 
tomaara i pratimaa gaDi 
mandire mandire || 
 
 
tvaM hi durgaa dashapraharaNadhaariNii 
kamalaa kamaladala vihaariNii 
vaaNii vidyaadaayinii namaami tvaaM 
namaami kamalaaM amalaaM atulaaM 
sujalaaM suphalaaM maataraM || 
 
 
 
 
shyaamalaaM saralaaM susmitaaM bhuushhitaaM 
dharaNiiM bharaNiiM maataraM ||  

 The following English translation is by Shree Aurobindo.

Mother, I bow to thee!   
Rich with thy hurrying streams,   
bright with orchard gleams,   
Cool with thy winds of delight,   
Dark fields waving Mother of might,   
Mother free.   
Glory of moonlight dreams,   
Over thy branches and lordly streams,   
 Clad in thy blossoming trees,   
Mother, giver of ease   
Laughing low and sweet!   
Mother I kiss thy feet,   
Speaker sweet and low!   
Mother, to thee I bow.   
   
Who hath said thou art weak in thy lands   
When the sword flesh out in the seventy million hands   
And seventy million voices roar   
Thy dreadful name from shore to shore?   
With many strengths who art mighty and stored,   
To thee I call Mother and Lord!   
Though who savest, arise and save!   
To her I cry who ever her foeman drove   
Back from plain and Sea   
And shook herself free.   
     
Thou art wisdom, thou art law,  
Thou art heart, our soul, our breath  
Though art love divine, the awe  
In our hearts that conquers death.  
Thine the strength that nervs the arm,  
Thine the beauty, thine the charm.  
Every image made divine  
In our temples is but thine.  
 
 
Thou art Durga, Lady and Queen,  
With her hands that strike and her  
swords of sheen,  
Thou art Lakshmi lotus-throned,  
And the Muse a hundred-toned,  
Pure and perfect without peer,  
Mother lend thine ear,  
Rich with thy hurrying streams,  
Bright with thy orchard gleems,  
Dark of hue O candid-fair  
In thy soul, with jewelled hair  
And thy glorious smile divine,  
Lovilest of all earthly lands,  
Showering wealth from well-stored hands!  
Mother, mother  mine!  
Mother sweet, I bow to thee,  
Mother great and free!  

Bankim, as we will see in the translation done by Aurobindo, referred to “seven crores” of people worshipping motherland. This was the population of the then Bengal Province.