Read the complete biography of Tulsi das

ONE day during the early half of the seventeenth century, in the city of Benares, a poet laid down his pen for the last time and closed his eyes on this world. A great man had died. Today, almost four hundred years after his death, his work lives on, wielding enormous influence among the people for whom it was written and familiar to scholars the world over, who recognise it for the work of an inspired genius.

Tulsi Das, or, as it is sometimes written, Tulasi Dasa, was both a great poet and a great religious reformer. Though he founded no new sect but accepted, and re-interpreted, the estab­lished Hindu theology, yet his teaching claimed the attention not only of his contemporaries but grew yearly in power and influence until, at the present time, it is followed by some ninety or a hundred million Hindus of Upper India, who base their religious and spiritual beliefs, and their theories of moral conduct, upon his doctrines. In the direct succession of master and pupil, Tulsi Das came seventh in descent from Ramananda, a teacher of the Vedanta doctrine of Ramanuja, who established a schism of his own, giving to his disciples the significant name of the “Liberated,” admitting all castes equally to the fellowship, and teaching the people in their own tongue. This revolution in religious ideas paved the way for Tulsi Das, who accepted these doctrines but developed them in a manner essentially his own.

Tulsi Das was indeed a poet of the people. He wrote in the vernacular- claiming the right of common speech as a medium for religious teaching-and wrote with extraordinary vigour and power, illustrating his imaginative con­ceptions with vivid descriptions, drawn from his observation of Nature, and with poetic similes, always beautiful and apt but never reaching beyond the under­standing of the ordinary man. He was, moreover, a man of experience. In spite of his brilliant gifts of language and of vision, in spite of his friendships with famous men of the time like Todar Mall, finance minister to Akbar, and Man Singh of Amber, his native countrymen knew him for a simple man who had lived

among them freely; praying, teaching, begging, sharing with them the ordinary joys and sorrows of daily life. Into his works he put the wisdom of his experience, his concepts are sane and lofty, and the words he uses to clothe them are direct, colourful and arresting. It is small wonder that his people through­out successive generations have acknow­ledged him as their poet and their guide.

There are, unfortunately, only a few facts about the poet’s life that can be authoritatively ascertained. It seems that he was born in 1532 under the auspices of an unlucky star. Children born in “Abhuktamula” were supposed to be destined to destroy their fathers out of the wickedness of their own natures, and were generally abandoned by their parents. Tulsi Das himself says that this is what happened to him. He was then picked up by a wandering Sadhu and travelled over India with him as his disciple, getting what education he could, and learning no doubt the story of Rama which he was afterwards to write. He was by birth a Sarayupaina Brahman and the names of his mother and father and immediate relations are known at any rate to tradition.

He married a wife to whom he became deeply devoted. Her name was Ratnavali, and she was brought up very piously to worship Rama in her father’s house. A son was born to Ratnavali and Tulsi Das, but died before growing to manhood. After this it seems that Ratnavali returned to her father’s house, and it is said that when Tulsi Das, anxious and distressed, followed her there, she would not be persuaded to go back with him, but told him that he must devote himself to the worship of the holy Rama. Tulsi Das then abandoned house, home and family life and became an ascetic, a wandering Vaishnava. He made the city of Audh his headquarters where, at the age of forty-three, he started to write his great work, the Ramayana. Later, some difference of opinion about a point of discipline arose between the poet and his fellow-believers and he moved to Benares to continue his writing and teaching. He lived to a great age, and though, as an old man, he was attacked by plague he recovered from this disease but died shortly afterwards in the year 1623.

So many legends have grown up around the life and the name of Tulsi Das that it would be impossible to quote them all. Many of them may be based on truth, others are obviously fabulous. It may be worthwhile to note briefly one or two of these stories which are given wide credence among the poet’s followers and have acquired the authority of tradition.

It is said that Tulsi Das, as an old man, came on one of his travels to his wife’s village and called for hospitality at his father-in-law’s house without knowing where he was. His wife, also an old woman now, tended him, and after a while recognised her husband’s voice. She could not decide whether to make herself known to him or whether to say nothing, since he was now an ascetic and her presence might be only an embarrassment to him. However, watching him at his food she discovered that he carried about with him on his travels various luxuries like pepper, cam­phor, condiments and other delicacies, and it seemed to her that he could not be as strict an observer of ascetic discipline as she had thought. She then made herself known to him, exhorting him either to allow her to stay with him, since he already took about with him his worldly goods, or else to abandon all and devote himself altogether to spiritual things. Tulsi Das, much moved, departed and gave away everything he had to Brah- mans, while his wife became even more pious and devout than before.

At the beginning of his greatest work, the Ramayana, he defends his use of the vernacular for his writings and there are also stories told of his replies to Pandits who questioned this preference for the common tongue when, as they knew, he was learned in the pure Sanskrit language. Once he likened his work to an earthen vessel filled with ambrosia and compared the flowery unimportance of his Sanskrit- writing contemporaries to jeweled cups filled with poison; another time he asked them who would wear silken clothing when the useful protection of a coarse woolen blanket was more necessary.

There is one miracle told of Tulsi Das which is said to have converted thousands of people to lives of holiness. It was at Benares that the poet, hearing a repentant murderer calling on the name of the Lord Rama, blessed him and gave him alms and food. The Brahmans of Benares, however, were troubled about this and wanted to know how so low a man as a murderer could be forgiven his sin, and why the poet declared him purified. Tulsi Das agreed to prove to them that the power of the name of Rama was enough to bring salvation to the faithful. He told them that the sacred bull of Siva would eat out of the murderer’s hand as proof that his crime was absolved. The man was taken to the temple where the bull at once took food from his hands. Tulsi Das was proved right and thereby illustrated the great mercy of Rama towards all sinners who would repent.

There are many more famous legends long connected with the poet’s name, such as that of the grateful ghost who introduced him to the God Hanuman, who in turn allowed him a vision of the Lord Rama and Lakshman; that of Rama himself, disguised as a handsome, dark watchman, guarding the poet’s house with bow and arrow; that of the Brahman widow on her way to the funeral pile, whose husband he restored to life; that of the poet’s imprisonment by the emperor for refusing to work a miracle and produce the God Rama before the court, his delivery by Hanu­man s army of monkeys and the Emperor’s subsequent promise to leave Rama’s holy abode, the city of Delhi, and build a new city and fort elsewhere. All these, and others as fascinating, have become part of the poetic tradition associated with the life of Tulsi Das. At the moment, however, it is perhaps of more importance to turn to a short study of his work.

Some twenty works have been, at one time or another, attributed to the pen of this poet, but only twelve-six of greater importance and six of less- are certainly his. The most famous, and undoubtedly the greatest of these, is the Ramayana-The Lake of the Deeds of Rama. The influence of its teaching, as of the beautiful language used, has permeated every class of the Hindu community; appreciated alike by young and old, it is as familiar among the highest as among the humblest in the land. It is an epic poem dealing with the life and deeds of the Lord Rama, and into the poetic structure are woven the doctrines of whole-hearted worship, faith, incarnate divinity and individual’ mortality-in fact, all the tenets and teaching of the poet himself. His characters are living, heroically drawn people, who, though dignified with sublime powers, are nevertheless endowed with poignant human qualities that enable them to enter fully into the complex emotional situations of life.

The language varies with the content and is used at times as a definite sound- value to echo the sense. It can be gentle and tender and most moving if the poet is describing death or leave-taking; it can be easy and charming if he is con­cerned with childhood or the tranquility of Nature; or it can be majestic, stirring and rugged in the passages dealing with storm, battle, or calamity.

He uses a multitude of similes of a simple and direct kind, drawn almost entirely from Nature: “Monarchs give honour to the lowest of their servants, in the same way as fire tops itself with smoke and a hill with grass”; “At sight of him the kings all cowered down as partridges shrinking beneath the swoop of a hawk”; “Obedient to the will of its lord, the gallant steed was as beautiful as a peacock, that dances in response to a thunder-cloud, whose dark mass is irradiated by the stars of heaven and the fitful lightning.”

It is, of course, not possible in a short extract to give a complete idea of so infinitely varied a style. The best known quotation from the Rama­yana is probably the description of the rainy season and its passing, a passage of superbly balanced poetry. I shall, however, quote another passage of descriptive action which is written in a tenser and more vital manner. The occasion is the breaking by Rama of the great bow of Shiva. Janak, the king, has declared that only the man who can bend the bow shall wed his beautiful daughter Sita. Many warriors have already tried and failed. In front of the crowd and all the kings and princes the young Rama draws near the great bow:

“Rama first looked at the crowd who all stood dumb and still as statues; then the gracious Lord turned from them to Sita, and perceived her yet deeper concern; perceived her to be so terribly agitated, that a moment of time seemed an age in passing. If a man die of thirst for want of water, when he is once dead, of what use to him is a lake of nectar? What good is the rain when the crop is dead? What avails regret when a chance has been lost? Thinking thus to himself as he gazed at Sita, the Lord was enraptured at the sight of her singular devotion, and after making a reverential obeisance to his Guru, he took up the bow with most superlative ease; as he grasped it in his hand, it gleamed like a flash of lightning; and again as he bent it, it seemed like the vault of heaven. Though all stood looking on, before anyone could see, he had lifted it from the ground, raised it aloft and drawn it tight, and in a moment broken it in halves; the awful crash re-echoed through the world.”

After a few stanzas describing the joyful excitement of the people, the gods, and the kings, the poet goes on to describe the beauty of Sita, who, with rapture in her heart, brings forward the wreath of victory: “As she drew near and beheld Rama’s beauty, she stood motion­less like a figure on the wall, till a watchful attendant roused her, saying -‘Invest him with the ennobling wreath.’ At the word she raised the wreath with both her hands, but was too much overcome by emotion to drop it till as the lotus, flower and stalk, shrinks at the moonlight, so her hand and arm drooped in the glory of his moonlike face. At the sight of his beauty her handmaids broke into song, while Sita let fall the wreath upon his breast.”

The Kavittavali is another long work dealing with the life of Rama, but from another point of view. It emphasizes the majestic and heroic side of Rama’s character and is full of stirring adventure and action. There are some fine and wild descriptions of battle and a fear- inspiring picture of a mighty fire in the crowded city of Lanka. The book ends with a great victory, followed by a number of hymns in praise of Rama.

The Gitavali is a work of an altogether different nature. Though it, too, is devoted to the career of Rama, the largest part of the book describes the childhood and early life of the God and his baby brothers. The narrative
flows along easily and gently, sounding the notes of tenderness and natural affection throughout. As the children play about the courtyards, learning to walk, to chatter, to understand what they see, and as their mothers watch over them, delighting in their pranks and guarding their first footsteps, one re­members again that Tulsi Das described life as he knew it. Many a country­man of his, reading the simple and poetic tale, must have felt that it was an account of his own or his son’s infancy. A brief extract may serve to give an idea of the work:

“Full of happiness Kausalya caresses her little darling. She lets him cling to her finger as she teaches him to walk in the fair courtyard of the palace. Runu jhunu, rune jhunu, sweetly tinkles the bell-girdle on his waist; sweetly tinkle the anklet bells on his feet, as she helps him along. On his wrists are bracelets a spotless, saffron-coloured little silken coat adorns his dark limbs. His bonny face is a picture, with two little teeth peeping out behind his dawn-rosy lips and stealing away the hearts of all…. As he hears his mother snap her fingers he crows with delight, and when he lets go her finger from his hand she is filled with dismay. He tumbles down and pulls himself up upon his knees, and babbles with joy to his brothers when his mother shows him a piece of cake: and she, as she looks at all his pretty baby ways, is drowned in love, and cannot bear her happiness. . . . Saith Tulsi Das, the man who loveth not this sweetness, hath no soul, and his life in this world is vain.”

The poet takes on a very different character in his Vinaya Pattrika- the Book of Petitions. He writes as a suppliant addressing his petitions, or hymns, firstly to the lower gods of heaven and finally to the Lord Rama himself. It is conceived in a spirit of humility and prayer. Tradition has it that it was the God Hanuman who advised Tulsi Das to write as a com-plainant in the court of the Lord him­self, so that the court would be em­powered to punish the Evil Spirit of the Age who had threatened the poet with death unless he would stop teaching the increase of piety among the people.

The Krishnavali is a work about the authenticity of which the opinion of scholars is divided. It is a collection of songs in honour of the God Krishna and is written in a slightly different dialect and in a completely different style from the other works from the poet’s pen.

A collection of verses, mostly selected from Tulsi Das’ other works, and having very little connection with each other, is called the Dohavali. It is possible that it was compiled as an anthology by a later admirer, or, since it is partly com­posed of original verses, it may have been drawn up by the poet himself, (some say at the request of his friend, the great Todar Mall) as a kind of short religious guide. Another vexed question is the authenticity of a work called the Sat’sai which shares a number of verses with the Dohavali and seems in the other verses to betray the hand of an imitator although the teaching is in accord with Tulsi Das’ principles and seems in fact to be a systematic exposition of his religious theories.

Among the lesser works there is the Ramajna which is a collection of omens, or commands of the holy Rama. It is consulted as a religious guide and as a means of divining the outcome of any­thing to be undertaken. The Vairagya- Sandipini is a religious poem dealing with the true nature and greatness of a holy man and the attainment of perfect peace. It is written in a tone of calm devotion and assurance and is full of noble precepts. Of peace the poet writes:

“The adornment of the night is the moon, the adornment of the day is the sun. The adornment of the servant of the Lord is Faith, and the adornment of that Faith is Perfect Knowledge. The adornment of meditation is total Self- surrender to the Lord, and the adornment of Self-surrender is pure and spotless Peace.”

Of the Holy Man he says:

“Very cool is he, very pure, free from all taint of earthly desire. Count him as free, his whole existence rapt in Peace.” The Ram Lala Nahachu and the Barawe are shorter poems, again cele­brating incidents in the life of Rama or aspects of his character; while the Parbati Mangal and Janaki Mangal are both marriage songs, the former describ­ing the wedding of the beautiful and innocent daughter of the Himalayas with the fearful Shiva, and the latter relating the story of the betrothal and marriage of the young Rama to his bride, Sita.

There is a short poem by Tulsi Das on the death of his friend Todar Mall. It has been translated by G. A. Grierson, and as it is a specimen of the poet’s style which is complete in itself. I give it here.

“Lord of but four small villages, yet a mighty monarch whose kingdom was himself in this age of evil hath the sun of Todar set.

The burden of Rama’s love, great though it was, lie bare unto the end; but the bur­den of this world was too great for him and so he laid it down.

Tulsi’s heart is like a pure fount in the garden of Todar’s virtues; and when he thinketh of them, it overflows, and tears well forth from his eyes.

Todar hath gone to the dwelling-place of his Lord, and therefore dock Tulsi refrain himself; but hard it is for him to live without his pure friend.

As a theologian, Tulsi Das was a man of vision and as a poet he was able to immortalise his own interpretation of the Hindu religion. He upheld the view that there is one Supreme Being who, out of his great mercy, put off his divinity for a time, to become incarnate in the person of Rama, and so to procure salvation for the infinitely sinful nature of man. The God, therefore, returning once more to heaven to live forever in perfection, has experienced the life of a man and can understand and sympathise with the trials and temptations of humanity. The Supreme Being is the only representative of true existence, being in itself an eternal, complete and absolute unity. Tulsi Das, however, does not allow this conception of divine perfection to be reduced simply to an abstraction. He insists on imbuing even the most Holy with the attributes of personality, and presents his God, not a relentless and avenging tyrant, but as a loving, merciful and all-knowing spirit. Teaching the universal father­hood of God he lays stress upon the doctrine that grows from this, namely, the universal brotherhood of man.

It is impossible to exaggerate the influence that the great works of Tulsi Das have had upon the lives and learning of his own countrymen. Above all, the Ramayana as a creation in literature and as an exposition of a religion stands supreme; it is known and loved by every Hindu from the Punjab in the west to eastern Bengal, and from the Vindhyas northward to the ranges of the Hima­layas.