The Aryan Invasion Myth

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

Most Indians have grown up with myths: Myths of divine origin, myths of Indra killing Britra demon to cause beneficent rains and what not? But when it comes to the Origin of Indian Civilization our minds are clouded by historians both Firangi and Indian. When were the  Vedas, supposedly the first serious effort in poetry, philosophy, worldview and man's position in cosmic reality, written? The answers have been given by foreigners. It was Max Muller and Mortimer Wheeler who have built up the trenchant narrative that the Vedas especially the Rig Veda was written around 1500 BCE after the Aryans invaded/ migrated to India. Basically, the people of the Steppes of Central Asia was the original homeland of the Aryans. The Aryans had horsedrawn chariots and greater firepower. They drove the dasas, the dark skinned inhabitants to south of India and reigned over the whole of north- western India. If this is true that the Vedas were composed by the Aryans how is it that the place of the origin of the Aryans has no great poetry or philosophy to offer? They have built Pyramids, Sphinxes, Mausoleums, in fact, structures for the dead and their living cultures have not shown any continuity. Iran , Iraq, Mesopotamia even Greece are now languishing under the weight of their own contradictions of mythic confusion: Whereas India has cultural continuity despite all Mogul, British invasions and its past, however shadowy, is still a large part of our inheritance. The leftist historians of Independent India have merely perpetuated and fortified the colonial legacy, therby shielding the Aryan Invasion- Migration Theory ( IAMT).

The colonial archaeologists claim to have discovered the Indus Valley Civilization in 1920; a civilization at par with the Civilizations of Egypt and Mesopotamia guessed to be the cradle of human civilization. The IVC has no reference to Saraswati although in the Rigveda there are 74 verses in it as a paean to river Saraswati: The Nadi Sukta (Rigveda 10.75.5) praises the Saraswati as the sustainer of life and nourisher of a civilization. If the Aryan migration is true and the Rigveda is composed by the foreigners who invaded /migrated to India in 1500 BCE, how come that the carbon dating of the Indus Valley sites in places dates back to 9500 BCE? It suggests that this 'newly' discovered civilization is much older than the so called cradle of human civilization. The Indus valley civilization was spread over a vast territory of two million square miles and the Harappan and Mohenjo Daro sites have shown a more advanced civilization than the Cradle was. The IVC has shown that it was a civilization where there was no slave trade nor continual wars. It had its currency, weights and measures and also the figurines, terracotta works and especially agriculture and bullock carts. They had their scripts- which unfortunately has not yet been deciphered, thereby stifling our claims to being the cradle of human civilization.

The foreign archaeologists claim that the IVC was destroyed by whatever factors, around 3500 BCE. But none have advanced a plausible theory of its decline.  But recent research has revealed that more than the Indus (Sindhu) the Saraswati river was the life breath of this civilization.  An American Satellite for the first time brought out a picture of the dried out bed of River Saraswati. The Indian Space Research Organisation (ISRO) too has given clearer satellite imagery of Saraswati's bed. She flew from the Himalayas (Glacier melt-water) and had a length of more than 3000 kms, finally ending up in the The Arabian Sea. The Landsat of America was the first to image its course followed by ISRO. Scientific studies have shown that Saraswati flowed from 8000-6000 BCE and dried up and desiccated around 1900 BCE. If this is true the IVC studies are not authentic. Most of the so called  Indus sities were in fact Saraaswati sites. The river was desiccated, perhaps, because of tectonic plate shifts. Yamuna was a tributary but she changed her course. Saraswati had created a civilization that was peace-loving and contemplative. The cities on her banks were prosperous. India's trade in the steppe regions might have caused some cross fertilization of cultures but to say that the indigenous people were uncultured natives who were driven out by the so called invaders is now not acceptable.

Further study will definitely reveal as have been shown by the DNA studies of David Reich, Vasant Shindhe, G.D. Bakshi and others that the Saraswati of the Vedas and the great epic Mahabharat had given rise to a culture which was the beginning of human culture. The river is now gone but the memories of her still linger in the minds of the  modern Indians. In view of these facts the History of India should be rewritten.

Dark Room

She turned on the silver knob

of a dark room and the

dark fancies to which she is used,

at least it hides ugliness  where

beauty and love are of no matter.

She the  'five minutes'

queen of  visible darkness

knocks the doors

for living in minutes and hours

by selling her wares uninvested.

While dressing up she  picks

her earnings of 'five minutes'

from the teapoy moves away

with a smile -even less

having no scorpions on head

walks into another dark room.

Sabita Sahu

Odia Swaviman

 

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

Call it self-respect, an ingrained sense of dignity, Swaviman is Pride. It is never adulterated by  insolence or defiance, it is a realization of Soulforce which makes an individual operate in his socio- intellectual environment with a natural confidence born  out of his/her cultural inheritance and historical glory. Mr Das( Madhusudan Das ) was perhaps , the first Odia to use this Swaviman to raise  the moral of the Odia when Odisha did not have her own map, that is, no clearly defined  geographical identity, no record of its glorious past and no officially recognised language. Supported by Fakirmohan Senapati, Gopabandhu Dash and other worthies Mr Das started the Utkal Sammilani and moved for unity of the Odia speaking people despite all odds. The movement gathered steam and forged ahead and eventually  in 1936 Odisha was formed. The Odia gained his voice and spoke  and wrote. Literature, fine arts, sculpture for which the Odia had already carved out his place in the history of India's cultural past. The resilience of the Odia, temple architecture and his music and dance traditions were revived in a renascent fervour.

After Independence the nascent democracy paid attention to eradicating poverty which was ( and is) the bane of the people. A state rich in mineral deposits, a 480 km coastline, native intelligence bravery had another bold and proud voice Biju Patnaik. It was Biju Patnaik who gave a new dimension to Odia Swaviman. If Mr Das was the first graduate , lawyer, industrialist, freedom fighter, cultural hero and energizer of the Odia Soulforce; Biju patnaik was the first dreamer of Odia resurgence. Biju infused into the dormant youth the dream of big Industry, Engineering , Higher education, Port-Airport- Expressways of speed to raise high and wide. He added " Kalinga " to Mr Das's Utkal and gave the Odia a larger world of ideas and vigour. Despite his heroics, however, due to lack of political and social support and the typical crab mindset of people he could not realize his dreams for the people of Odisha. But he made the people aware of a vibrant destiny which the proud Odia could achieve by self-reliant pursuits.

It is a pleasant Irony of  Time and History that what  the father aspired for , the son achieved. Nabin Patnaik , the worthy son of perhaps the greatest Odia, Biju Patnaik, arrived on  the desolate post-super- cyclone  scene like destiny's child to turn the Biju legacy into a realizable practical reality as his legatee.  A man of creative and critical thinking, least interested in his father's stormy World of Politics and overreaching dynamism, Nabin Patnaik, by a decree of fate was  thrust with the ruins of Odisha's administration in his pen holding  hand. I don't know whether  he soliloquized like Hamlet, "O' cursed spite that I was born to set it right" but he has ruled and reigned Odisha  to unimaginable heights. Biju Patnaik , somewhere in the stars in the blue canopy overhead  must be sipping his morning tea with a sober hint of a smile , in his charming face.

After about twenty years, Nabin's Odisha has carved out her proud place in the world map. Political stability, social accord apart, he has changed the mindset of Odisha by his work- without fanfare    He is almost in godlike isolation, in no way   overexposed to the public,  never advising  on  do's and don'ts: Yet he is recognised in India and abroad as a master craftsman  in the art of political administration. Today the Odia is in the highest chair in  the Supreme Court, The Reserve Bank of India, ambassadorial assignment, hospital , Universities, Sahitya Akademi and Gnanapitha chairs. And also in the honour lists of Army and CRPF. The people of Odisha are now in Silicon Valley, World Bank, Apple Microsoft and everywhere. In disaster management and post- devastation reconstruction  Odisha is admired by the world.  Well, I, am not writing a panegyric on Nabin Patnaik, although he deserves it.

 I wish he had created a workforce in the lower rungs of the social ladder. The bureaucracy, Police and other Government functionaries are doing excellent work with single minded dedication. But what pains me is the dole politics. Why should people be given everything almost free? Except air nothing is free. But  because of pollution (self-created)even "pure" air is also sold. Water has now become a scarce resource. If people would be compelled to buy the elements for survival, why should food items and other things be given free or almost free to people? Yes, during  calamitous situations and disasters, it is incumbent upon Government to give everything free, as ours is a welfare democracy. But when everything is normal why should people be encouraged to idle away their time  thanking the Sarkar? An idle mind is the Devil's Workshop- is always true.  Make the poor work and pay them more. Let them be proud of themselves and say- Yes we have deservedly earned by utilizing our energies. They would have their Swaviman and work hard to improve their capabilities. Biju Patnaik dreamed of the Odia, working , inventing and innovating with pride. His son has already prepared the basic infrastructure to some extent. May Odisha become the new Paradise and the Odia a proud specimen of humanity.

What Shall I Do?

As days float in time

his eyes become more moist

on a tanned moon at even tide

his whispers grow into songs:

A northern hill loves the south wind

in an aromatic swish of embrace

which does not end from dawn to

dawn, midday to  midnight.

When he sees me  full in light

his songs again become whispers

he fondles me all over from earth

placing me in a sky of beauty,

I smile in a moment of ecstatic bliss.

I don't have words to speak

nor hands and legs to act

but he goes on fisting space

slicing time with a mad kiss:

What shall I do with him and his

shadow play of timeless love?

Sabita Sahu

Choice Is Always Personal

Prafulla KumarMohanty 

While trying to explain existential choice to some elderly people an ardent fan of Nietzsche got stuck at a point when a very innocent question was asked: What will you choose between life and death? The self styled teacher smiled and said, hypothetical questions should not have radical binaries; obviously one will choose life. If you choose death any kind and all kinds of knowledge are meaningless. Choice is for the living and not the dead. All that man has done over the progressive centuries of civilization are life friendly. Knowledge whether philosophical or scientific is utilized in better understanding of life; to make living easier, more comfortable. Death is the negation of everything. But there are difficult alternatives to choose from. For example life and liberty. Many would argue that liberty is of primal importance for man. But one may quip- you must live first to enjoy liberty.

After the abrogation of  article 370 and the consequent lockdown of Kashmir many argued along liberal lines. If India is a secular democracy why should the Kashmir valley be in a state of lockdown for more than five weeks? Why the Internet, mobile and other data not available to the people? Why are the shops not open? Such questions are now asked by the opposition parties in India and Pakistan who has no business to interfere with our internal problems has gone to the United Nations Human Rights Commission for  justice for the valley people. Living aside the vengeful politics of Pakistan, one may ask: What is Human Right? What or Which Constitution or Charter of Rights has guaranteed man the Internet availability, free movement and free protest and free stone pelting and gunfiring to man? Nature has no guaranty to offer. It is civilization which offers guarantees of life, liberty and free speech.

But human rights is a confusing term. When a civilian is killed by a terrorist the Activists question government of the day over the human rights of the civilian. But a soldier who guards the borders and protects the human rights of citizens, apparently, has no human rights. In India particularly, no Activist or political pundit ever clamours for the rights of the soldier: As if the soldier is a sacrificial lamb for the activists of human rights. The anomaly apart what disturbs  us is the choice between Religion and the Constitution. If religion prescribes rules and practices, what is the relevance of the constitution? Nothing is absolute in the world. Free speech does not mean one can troll expletives or spread false news using the new found art of fakery. But people exercise their choice of fear mongering in the name of freedom of expression.

One can choose between a shirt and a shawl as per his need or choose a particular shade. But choice too is never absolute. A choice between punishment and pardon may be exercised according to the architecture of the mind and sense of a nation. But if one refuses to obey the set patterns of national life it is not tenable or acceptable. Hate and love are not matters of choice. One cannot choose to kill and destroy as per his personal whims. Racial hate, gender discrimination are a collective transgression of the unwritten code of ethics. One can choose a word to express a particular shade of meaning. The choice may also be whimsical or poetic licence. Others may not approve  of the choice. Hamlet's  "Absent thee  from felicity..." has raised many eyebrows but none have improved the tone and tenor by choosing other words. But one can always challenge any poetic image or absolutist metaphor to enhance man's complex enjoyment of life's variety.

All choices are valid for the particular moment. Those who claim to have  the choice patented are delusional.

When the choice between disembodied love and love as sexual union arises no one has the last word. Similarly  if a person chooses to waste a life waiting for someone to say a word of his choice by way of assent, it is his personal  choice. Such choices are expressions of a psyche that refuses to accept the common practice as his moral imperative. The question asked in the first paragraph is true about all binaries. Life and death cancel each other out. But he who chooses is the  master of his life and he decides what to do with it, in the context of his life. No choice therefore is above scrutiny and no choice is the last one ever exercised by man.

Ask My Accountant

How can I wink away the nuances

each one a rock edict,

I live a life to call my own.

Parents, teachers gave me

rule books to follow,

In-laws and husband thought for me

and gave instructions

life now a pearl pressed

by so many hands.

Today I don't hold any rule book

I breathe my life on

earth, air and sky.

I walk alone, swim the air

to measure my sky.

If I do not drop on the earth

never think I am gone.

I am here and every where

I have registered my name

and place with my accountant

the unseen and the untouched,

He keeps my account,

If ever you wish to

know about me just ask Him.

Sabita Sahu

No Ice For Me

I have walked on fire thus far

now don't need ice any more.

I am too warm with my  work ethics,

I can spread energies all around me.

I have passion to build and create

to help the helpless  and feed the

hungry at the temple door  and

finally return to my sweet love

with my warmth through alien landscapes.

Ice will halt my steps- but

I have work to do -

to lift up hung chins

bring smiles in toothless faces,

to worship life, for it gives love.

I give light to inflame love

I'll put all my fire to

illuminate the lost horizons.

Sabita Sahu

Landing On Moon

Prafulla Kmar Mohanty

Sun, Moon and Stars are the only luminosities in human myths and reality which have permeated our imagination since the birth of man. Moon is always a lovable curiosity, for, it is beautiful yet has dark spots and patches, as Eliot wrote  'a washed out smallpox cracks her face'. It is serene and its beams induce desire in the lovers. Poets, painters and gilted lovers stare and  look at the moon for hours. In my early youth I used to spend the whole night , once in a while , on the Gopalpur sea beaches singing at the Moon, songs of slow rhythm. My mother , I remember, sang  "Come you Moon Uncle , Fall in the hands of my Kanhu" while playing with her grandson. The Moon for most cultures in India and abroad is feminine. For us Moon is male , our mother's brother. But for the west she is a woman, Greek myths make her Phoebe. She is a paragon of beauty. The full moon night is a metaphor of grace, prosperity and peace. Her silver rays are symbolic of cool resplendence suggesting royalty of life's peaceful synergy. Poets use the moon as a simile. A beautiful woman is always  compared with the moon. Lovers see their absent beloveds in the moon and write poems of sorrowful melody. But the moon is also an enigma for it waxes and wanes. Its fortnightly growth into full from  and its slow decline into total annihilation are also used in poetry to indicate rise and fall, glory and ignominy in human affairs.

Astrologically the moon plays a significant role in the natal chart of a man or woman. It shapes the body, gives splendour and fortune. In Indian sexology the moon moves in the body of a woman. According to the tithi the parts of the body become erotic zones and lovers ought to know those zones in sex play. The Odia poet Upendra Bhanja has given elaborate erotic descriptions of such zones. In classical feminist theories the menstrual cycle of a woman is controlled by the moon. The moon takes 27 days  and six hours to orbit the earth and a woman's period follows it. The Earth is a Woman and the Moon is a Male who moves around her in sexciting vigour. The Moon is a great lover in our myths. He enticed the wife of Brihaspati, Jupiter, and fathered Mercury. Tara although a married woman, fell for the charms of the most  handsome Chandra. Such myths abound in world literature and their charms have not diminished over time. But Aero-space science and technology have challenged these myths to almost insignificance.

Man has already landed on the  Moon in the last century. Niel Armstrong and others have walked on the  Moon. Now the Indian Chandrayana 2 also has attempted to land on the moon. The mission however has not been completed. The Moon is just a satellite of the earth. It is no one's Uncle or Aunt. It is not a supernal beauty like Aphrodite (unseen) or a modern Miss Universe. It is not even a beauty brand. Man has seen its craters, its rocky dusty face. The NASA scientists suspected that the moon is dry, waterless like a ruined piece of dried earth. There is no possibility of life. There is gravity but no water.  But the Indian Chandrayan I in its moon photographs raised a modicum of hope that yes there is water- not rivers, streams or oceans- but dried out substances suggesting its presence. The Indian moon craft has landed on the dark side of the moon, a first for mankind. The Rover will start its movement and search for water and other traces of life sustaining materials. Some venture capitalists have already planned  for  setting up honeymoon hotels, pleasure trips and all other mad chase of exotic pleasures. If the presence of water in the moon could be established beyond all reasonable doubts, it would be a great leap forward for space science. But what will the poets do? What will the lovers do ? Will they stop looking up the sky sniggering at the moon? Can the moon be ever wiped off our historical memory? Can I myself stop looking at the moon for hours on end slowly moving in a boat in Chilika? ...

No one will wait for answers. The unmarried women will sing praises of the Kumar Purnima Moon. The girls will wear new dresses and observe their Janhi Osha- a festival of the Moon. Poets will ride the moon with their lady loves even in New Moon nights. The seashore would be crowded as ever on the Autumn Full Moon nights. And I will always see my love as the moon- Full and glowing in the night, stiff and angry at noon and smiling in the evening- waxing and waning as the mood takes her on.

Negativity

Prafulla Kumar Mohanty

Negativity is the pastime of a few intellectuals, obsession for some politicians and a born womb- inheritance of a good number of naysayers. Some people enjoy negativity just to create controversies. Some  others are attitudinally negative out of jealousy. If they see a beautiful woman they will sigh like a demented philosopher and say- yes she is beautiful but beauty is transient, time will cause wrinkles on her shining skin, her golden breasts will hang like rotten mangoes just to touch her naval. There are  yet others for whom nothing in God's vast acres is good, nothing is pleasant. They are what the late lamented Arun Jaitley coined , "Nawabs of Negativity". There are people for whose palates nothing is tasteful. If a flawless Royal Dinner  is thrown on the marriage celebration of the  Princess these nawabs of negativity like the old Brahmin, in an old story I remember to have read, will say  "If it is too good how can it be good; it may satisfy the tongue but it will not be good for digestion". Such people, if they are taken to heaven- if there is a heaven somewhere- they will certainly say, "If there is no contrastive disorder Order has no meaning". These people are incurable specimens of negativity.

A Greek dramatist wrote " It is better not to be born in this world full of pain". I would like to ask, if you are not born how would you experience the pain of the world? Life is a cat and mouse game. If you are chased by a cat you run like a hare  to a lair of safety. Once you are safe in the dark corner of your hiding place you feel blessed. If a cat misses its prey it would curse itself. But if you catch your prey and make a hearty meal of it you  will say like my sometime friend in my salad days. "What a lovely  world God has created"!- for his favourite Lobster breakfast. The World is beautiful for its variety and plenty. You see light and shade, enjoy your (stupid) joys and suffer your( cursed ) pain. But at times the pain of separation is also the most enjoyable feeling this world offers. You write volumes, wait out the unending hours and  sing woeful songs requesting, cajoling the clouds or the wind to carry your bleeding heart for your love's mercy. The binaries of life  make life desirable despite the prickly pears wounding your kissers. The world offers choices. You can be what you wish to be or you can wait for nature and society to shape your body and mind. But most philosophers and thinkers, poets and politicians are positive in their approach to Reality. The horrors of life must be vanquished by human intelligence. If floods come and devastate life does not end. Man is the greatest survivor and in order to survive you have to utilize all the negative intelligence positively . The politicians all over the world are a hated lot because they often fail to use their  positive thinking  in making the world a good place to live in. But those who blame them, do they have an alternative in their mind? It is easy to  say that the world is  an unmanageable place. But man has managed the world for millions  of years by his positive thinking. The negativists have not given us any alternative world. They do not have the blueprint of  an alternative scenario of life.  Negativity and cynicism are impediments on the  path of the positive visualizers of life on the planet. Negativity stops progress, halts life, increases pain, the pain of nothing happening anywhere.

Death is the natural negativity to life. But death has not stopped the world's forward movement towards progress of life. In the world today man's life is more comfortable, the world is more livable than it was ever before. But negativity is also essential  for it inspires thinking, it gives energy to penetrate the layers of clouds to reach light. It induces human  energy to fight against all the enemies of life- hunger, sickness and old age, even death. It is negativity which creates  the scenario of horror and doom, thereby forcing human consciousness to fight the doomsday possibilities with redoubled vigour. Negativity is like the other side of hope, faith and light which man would like to reach by his determination to survive meaningfully.

But those who always see death in life are not human. The stubborn negativist  deserves expulsion from human society. But man has accommodated all negativity. Even Caliban whom Shakespeare abandoned in The Tempest has his place. The stubborn inhumanity of some negative specimens too are needed by the society to appreciate the glow of positive thinking. Despite negativity we now fly in the air, sail beyond the seas and create gardens in icy fields. The most unresponsive lover too is a darling:  We should win them with more love. The negative minds need our love for they are loveless barren wasteland. Let us try to make gardens of them.

The Sea Calls Me - Sandra !

 

May be my dainty footprints

on the sand reminded

him of our unflinching love

of time tested bonds beyond births,

Sandra- He called me while I was

bowing down to Lord Jagannath.

His call invited me in lovely rhythms

the midnight rain of the season

pushed my steps to the shore

the beach was lonely, dark sombre,

the waves gave me a roaring welcome

wet, shaky and  ecstatic I stood

Sandra, he called again in foamy delight

spreading his wide mouth to kiss my feet,

but when I advanced  he receded.

O' sea take me in

enter my soul and body

my mortal eternity of separation

I pine birth after birth

quench the fire and calm my soul.

give me the depth of your being,

O'  'Father of Fire' give me light

to find my way to complete the circle

my agony is too much for my life

fill me up , be one with me

come with one final roar make me

one with you  be my saviour my love!

Sabita Sahu