Macchhakandana (The Weeping Fish) Poem by Prafulla Kumar Panda

I

A crazy nomad's my mind which slowly moves with the pace of time
often walks miles alone on the plain or goes to Samibrukhya for a climb

or waits at Macchhkandana to patiently listen to her teary rhyme
when the first rays of the morning sun doth fall on her and shine

she tells her frightful days with Rishi Pathik, the wandering sage,
who's once meditating there, less for wisdom but more for taming his rage

which's on tip of his nose though he'd reached at the afternoon of his age
and clamoured often to unfetter himself from the mire of his rage

-'like other days', she tells, 'that day too my parents went to the forest to cut wood,
for that's their daily chore to feed themselves and to get me some food,

-and my bizarre loneliness too carried me into the wood
when my mischievous pubescence shook me up where I stood

-i saw the sage sitting under the peepal, although haggard still didn't stoop
his matted hair all soiled up, dirty with dead leaves and birds poop

-but his lips were busy in a sing-song of chanting the Lord, 'Hari Hari'
seeing his present condition, (least understood) only I felt very sorry

-being unaware of his meditation, I poured a bowl of water on him
which I carried with me hoping to wash his pale, dirty limb'

before he rose up straight and his eyes like charcoal burnt so strong
and before his lips stopped to move with the divine song

and before he could utter divine abuse and curse her strong
and before she realised, she'd interfered in his meditation and did wrong

she never knew that it would rage him and to her his vengeance bring
'be merciful and kind', she begged and unto his feet she herself did fling

and the sage was somewhat appeased and terribly lowered his temper
for her punishment, he only said, - 'daily wash me here with a pitcher-full water;

-and stay away from home and nurse me until I meditate here,
so you can better avoid my vengeance and my curse sure'.

II

She walked miles daily to carry water from the Kalo river
as only dryness existed in that part of the forest and there's no water

she's hopeful that her plight might end in some months or in a year
and could return home safely and could wipe her parents' tear

but to her dismay, the sage didn't budge from the point he himself planted
and ruined her fate, and all her hopes when her wish was never granted

rather he intensified his meditation and there he built a hut
and soon he changed the place into a serene Matha

now she had no option left but to weep alone for hours
and to curse her fate as her days grew worse, devoid of cheers

soon she lost her days of pubescence and reached at her buoyant youth
still she had no time for cheer and better she understood this truth

though she blossomed like the wild flowers of the spring
but none's there to admire her beauty and for her serenades sing

soon she felt restless under the weight of her buxom growth
still she carried herself along into the river as soon the cock croweth

now-a-days she would wait for hours at the river's stony step
none knew what went in her mind, as if she's wanting some help

as the wheel of time rolled by, one day, luckily she did find
a jolly and roly-poly fisher boy from her village who's so kind

to provide some information about her village and her near and dear
especially about her parents who had her once happily reared

she went near him and very politely to him asked
to which he looked grim still what he knew to her he passed

-'your old parents grew older enough as soon you left
and your mother lost her sight too as day and night she wept

-not finding you in and around, and at places she searched around
and often cursed her own fate as you're not anywhere to be found

-both were completely wrecked in their body and mind
they waited for you till their last breath and every moment they pined'

he shied a bit and said, -'it's only a year ago your father died
followed by your mother'; Hearing this her heart sank and she loudly cried

-'O brother! Please help me, or else i will turn mad,
and die here as a captive to the cruel monk', so she said


she sobbed loudly, when, to him, she got her story, narrated;
-'now I won't fear of a curse, but I want him get shattered'
and her eyes fell on some fish which the boy kept in his can
before he could say anything, she poured them into her pitcher and ran

a place with 'fish, flesh and fallen women' always monks eschew;
'so fish can make the place unholy', her ignorant mind that only knew.

III

Shamali went up to the holy dais where the monk sat on meditation
who waited for her hours by then, and went for dhyan without consecration

-'you've taken away my happiness, my joy and my everything
now I won't fear your curse, but I won't spare you for turning me a plaything'

so said she; and poured the whole pitcher of fish on the sage
and she stood there firm and gasped her breath in a violent rage

he sprang up seeing fish writhing on his lap
and fixed his eyes on her who stood there still with her eyes a-gap

-'let you become a fish, and here swim in the water of your own tears,
and none can see you weep; Henceforth, you won't have cheers'

so he cursed; lo! she's turned into a fish and swam in the pool of her tears
and the wandering sage changed the place into another out of fears

***** ***** ***** *****
but for 'fish, foul and foil' the nameless place got a name now, so let me tell;
till date none meditates there as the fish always weeps there into a fishy smell.

Hints:
MacchhaKandana: A small waterfall and tourist place in Similipal forest
Samibrukhya: A hill of mythological importance in Mayurbhanj often believed that Pandavas hid their Arms here during their one year of Agnyatabasa (untraceable exile) . Kalo: A river; now a dam.

©Prafulla Panda, India.
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