Robert Browning ( 07 May 1812 - 12 December 1889 ) is one of my favourite poets and like all of his poetries. Here I am presenting one of his famous poems Rabbi Ben Ezra.

It is a poem about Abraham Ibn Ezra ( 1092 - 1167 ),one of the great poets,mathematicians and scholars of the 12th century.He also wrote on grammar,astronomy etc.

However it is not a biography of Abraham Ibn Ezra like all of Browning's historical poems,it is a free interpretation of the idea that Abraham Ibn Ezra's life and work suggests to Browning, theistic paradox,that good might lie in the inevitability of its absence.

The poem was published in Browning's Dramatis Personae in 1864.  

Rabbi Ben Ezra

Grow old along with me!
The best is yet to be,
The last of life, for which the first was made:
Our times are in His hand
Who saith "A whole I planned,
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!"

Not that, amassing flowers,
Youth sighed "Which rose make ours,
Which lily leave and then as best recall?"
Not that, admiring stars,
It yearned "Nor Jove, nor Mars;
Mine be some figured flame which blends, transcends them all!"

Not for such hopes and fears
Annulling youth's brief years,
Do I remonstrate: folly wide the mark!
Rather I prize the doubt
Low kinds exist without,
Finished and finite clods, untroubled by a spark.

Poor vaunt of life indeed,
Were man but formed to feed
On joy, to solely seek and find and feast:
Such feasting ended, then
As sure an end to men;
Irks care the crop-full bird? Frets doubt the maw-crammed beast?

Rejoice we are allied
To That which doth provide
And not partake, effect and not receive!
A spark disturbs our clod;
Nearer we hold of God
Who gives, than of His tribes that take, I must believe.

Then, welcome each rebuff
That turns earth's smoothness rough,
Each sting that bids nor sit nor stand but go!
Be our joys three-parts pain!
Strive, and hold cheap the strain;
Learn, nor account the pang; dare, never grudge the throe!

For thence,--a paradox
Which comforts while it mocks,--
Shall life succeed in that it seems to fail:
What I aspired to be,
And was not, comforts me:
A brute I might have been, but would not sink in' the scale.

What is he but a brute
Whose flesh has soul to suit,
Whose spirit works lest arms and legs want play?
To man, propose this test--
Thy body at its best,
How far can that project thy soul on its lone way?

Yet gifts should prove their use:
I own the Past profuse
Of power each side, perfection every turn:
Eyes, ears took in their dole,
Brain treasured up the whole;
Should not the heart beat once "How good to live and learn?"

Not once beat "Praise be Thine!
I see the whole design,
I, who saw power, see now love perfect too:
Perfect I call Thy plan:
Thanks that I was a man!
Maker, remake, complete,--I trust what Thou shalt do!"

For pleasant is this flesh;
Our soul, in its rose-mesh
Pulled ever to the earth, still yearns for rest;
Would we some prize might hold
To match those manifold
Possessions of the brute,--gain most, as we did best!

Let us not always say,
"Spite of this flesh to-day
I strove, made head, gained ground upon the whole!"
As the bird wings and sings,
Let us cry "All good things
Are ours, nor soul helps flesh more, now, than flesh helps soul!"

Therefore I summon age
To grant youth's heritage,
Life's struggle having so far reached its term:
Thence shall I pass, approved
A man, for aye removed
From the developed brute; a god though in the germ.

And I shall thereupon
Take rest, ere I be gone
Once more on my adventure brave and new:
Fearless and un-perplexed,
When I wage battle next,
What weapons to select, what armour to indue.

Youth ended, I shall try
My gain or loss thereby;
Leave the fire ashes, what survives is gold:
And I shall weigh the same,
Give life its praise or blame:
Young, all lay in dispute; I shall know, being old.

For note, when evening shuts,
A certain moment cuts
The deed off, calls the glory from the grey:
A whisper from the west
Shoots--"Add this to the rest,
Take it and try its worth: here dies another day."

So, still within this life,
Though lifted o'er its strife,
Let me discern, compare, pronounce at last,
This rage was right in' the main,
That acquiescence vain:
The Future I may face now I have proved the Past."

For more is not reserved
To man, with soul just nerved
To act to-morrow what he learns to-day:
Here, work enough to watch
The Master work, and catch
Hints of the proper craft, tricks of the tool's true play.

As it was better, youth
Should strive, through acts uncouth,
Toward making, than repose on aught found made:
So, better, age, exempt
From strife, should know, than tempt
Further. Thou waitedst age: wait death nor be afraid!

Enough now, if the Right
And Good and Infinite
Be named here, as thou callest thy hand thine own
With knowledge absolute,
Subject to no dispute
From fools that crowded youth, nor let thee feel alone.

Be there, for once and all,
Severed great minds from small,
Announced to each his station in the Past!
Was I, the world arraigned,
Were they, my soul disdained,
Right? Let age speak the truth and give us peace at last!

Now, who shall arbitrate?
Ten men love what I hate,
Shun what I follow, slight what I receive;
Ten, who in ears and eyes
Match me: we all surmise,
They this thing, and I that: whom shall my soul believe?

Not on the vulgar mass
Called "work," must sentence pass,
Things done, that took the eye and had the price;
O'er which, from level stand,
The low world laid its hand,
Found straightway to its mind, could value in a trice:

But all, the world's coarse thumb
And finger failed to plumb,
So passed in making up the main account;
All instincts immature,
All purposes unsure,
That weighed not as his work, yet swelled the man's amount:

Thoughts hardly to be packed
Into a narrow act,
Fancies that broke through language and escaped;
All I could never be,
All, men ignored in me,
This, I was worth to God, whose wheel the pitcher shaped.

Ay, note that Potter's wheel,
That metaphor! and feel
Why time spins fast, why passive lies our clay,--
Thou, to whom fools propound,
When the wine makes its round,
"Since life fleets, all is change; the Past gone, seize to-day!"

Fool! All that is, at all,
Lasts ever, past recall;
Earth changes, but thy soul and God stand sure:
What entered into thee,
That was, is, and shall be:
Time's wheel runs back or stops: Potter and clay endure.

He fixed thee mid this dance
Of plastic circumstance,
This Present, thou, forsooth, wouldst fain arrest:
Machinery just meant
To give thy soul its bent,
Try thee and turn thee forth, sufficiently impressed.

What though the earlier grooves,
Which ran the laughing loves
Around thy base, no longer pause and press?
What though, about thy rim,
Skull-things in order grim
Grow out, in graver mood, obey the sterner stress?

Look not thou down but up!
To uses of a cup,
The festal board, lamp's flash and trumpet's peal,
The new wine's foaming flow,
The Master's lips a-glow!
Thou, heaven's consummate cup, what need'st thou with earth's wheel?

But I need, now as then,
Thee, God, who mouldest men;
And since, not even while the whirl was worst,
Did I,--to the wheel of life
With shapes and colours rife,
Bound dizzily,--mistake my end, to slake Thy thirst:

So, take and use Thy work:
Amend what flaws may lurk,
What strain o' the stuff, what warpings past the aim!
My times be in Thy hand!
Perfect the cup as planned!
Let age approve of youth, and death complete the same!

Three funny limericks

1.      

            1.There once was a man named MMS.
Who was servile to the Mainos in excess.
He lost sleep when the man held in Oz

Turned out to be an Indian Moz,
EVMs, CEC & Vote-banks gave him election-success.

2. There once was a lady named Antonia.
Who fancied herself as Queen of India.
She could barely speak Hindi,
Yet claimed to be a Gandhi,
Which made Indians forget she was a Phony-ia.

3. There once was a lad named Raoul Maino.
Who was less Indian and more Italiano.
He never studied or worked at a job,
For he had the backing of the Eyetalian Mob,
And his Bofors-Billions safe with Uncle Ottavio

A Servant and a CIE

                                                    

   A few months ago, one of the leading English newspapers of Delhi published in its Sunday editions about the growing demands of the Indian house cleaners and maids not only in Indian households but also in the NRI families abroad and the good salaries they earn nowadays.

   Here is a true story of an Indian servant, who rose to the pinnacle of glory while beginning his career as a waiter.

   Hafiz Abdul Karim was born in 1863 in Agra. His father was working as a native healer in Agra jail.

  In 1887, Karim went to England as one of the two Indian servants brought over to mark the golden jubilee celebrations of Queen Victoria and began his career as a dinning room waiter.

  Because of his good services Queen Victoria herself took great liking for him. After winning the queen’s confidence Karim told her that in India he was working as a clerk (munshi) and hence he does not like his present job as a waiter.

 Hearing this queen granted him the unique post of “The Queen’s Munshi” in 1889. Karim began to give Hindustani and Urdu language lessons to queen and taught her about the Indian customs and religions. Later Karim became the first personal Indian clerk to the queen. After that in 1894, he was promoted as queen’s “Indian Secretary” (not to be confused with the cabinet office of Secretary of State for India).

 Enjoying the backings of the queen, he also took some advantages of his position, which caused heartburns and resentments from the court. Naturally, the members of the royal court always looked upon Karim as a lowly Indian native subject and brought the exaggerations of   Karim to the notice of the queen. However, queen defended Karim throughout and dismissed all allegations against him as racial prejudices.

 Ministers and officials of the queen also doubted that Karim had association with Rafiuddin Ahmed, an Indian politician and resident of London and a candidate for parliament. They feared that Ahmed would get confidential information of the queen’s court from Karim. There was also a rumour that he was influencing queen’s attitude and opinions and ultimately the British foreign policy in India. However, Karim remained dignified and impeccable despite confronting these types of racial attacks.

  Karim brought his wife and other family members from India to England where they were settled at government expenses. Queen awarded him land in Agra, cottages at Balmorals, Windsor and Osborne and commissioned two portraits of him by famous artists Rudolf Swoboda in 1888 and Von Angeli in 1890. Ultimately, he was decorated with the coveted royal honour of Companion of the Order of the Indian Empire (CIE). This decoration was generally awarded to high-ranking British officials working in India including ICS officers. Bankim Chandra Chattopdhyay, the writer of the Vande Mataram, also won this award because of his tremendous administrative capability while working as Deputy Magistrate. Moreover he was also the first graduate of India and of Calcutta University. Karim was the first and the last person who has won this coveted award as a person who began his career as a waiter.

  In 1901, after the death of Queen Victoria, her son King Edward VII dismissed Abdul Karim from royal court. Nevertheless, he was allowed to be the last to view the queen’s body before the casket was closed and to attend the funeral procession. After that, Karim returned to India and stayed in his home, Karim Lodge in Agra, until his death in 1909.

 In his brief lifetime of forty-six years, Abdul Karim has proved that we Indians are really an amazing lot. We are capable of reaching up to the level of the CIE within a very short time of thirteen years, from the position of an ordinary servant.

Chak de India-1980

                                           

   In the Montreal Olympics in 1976, India drew a blank in the hockey and for the first time returned empty handed from the Olympics. All the newspapers and eminent sports magazines like sports week began bashing the Indian hockey team like anything. In 1975 India won the world championship, within a year it has fallen from that heaven fairly and squarely, and that was not acceptable to any one -neither the public nor the press.

  . Four years passed very quickly and it was time for 1980 Moscow Olympics. There was no expectation from the Indian hockey team, which was led by Bhaskaran, because India got lowly sixth place in the 1978 world cup. Nobody was talking of winning any medals. But lo and behold, in its first match on 20^th July India trounced Tanzania 18-0, which is still the second biggest score of Olympic hockey after India’s 24-1 win against USA in the Los Angeles Olympics in 1932. This win flickered the ray of hopes in the hearts of the Indians...

 On 21st July, India avoided a certain death. Poland was winning the match 2-1.Just five seconds before the final whistle, Mervyn Fernandes scored for India to make it a 2-2 draw. The same story was repeated in the next match on 23^rd July. Spain was winning the match 2-1. India’s equalizer came just four minutes before the final whistle to make it a 2-2 draw once again.

 However, in the next two matches India performed well. On 24^th July, India beat Cuba by 13-0 and on 26^th July beat hosts USSR by 4-2. Thus, India was in 2^nd position after Spain in the round robin league table.

 The D-day was 29^th July and India took on Spain in the final. I along with my three friends surrounded the big Philips radio kept in our drawing room after coming back from the school, silently praying that there should not be a sudden power cut. The commentators of Akashvani were nice. The voice was clear. We were following the match with our nails biting.

  The first half was goal less and early in the second half India established a 3-0 lead. Our breathings became a little easy. Our ears were listening to the commentary eyes were following the hands of the wall clock-when the umpire will blow the final whistle and the tongues were silently praying to all Gods and Goddesses.

 Nevertheless, Spain’s captain and veteran player Juan Amat gave us a near heart attack as he defeated goalkeeper Beer Bahadur Chhetry twice in quick succession to make it 3-2.

  The match was heading towards the end and just before six minutes of that, Mohammad Sahid scored for India to make it 4-2. but within two minutes Juan Amat scored once more to complete his hat trick and it was 4-3.The atmosphere during the last four minutes was really electrifying and I can vouch even today that those moments were not less exciting than the final over of the cricket world championship of 1983 and 2011.

All the commentators of the Akashvani who have so far maintained their impartial attitude have now become downright partial and were openly shouting for India’s favour.

One of my friends pushed the volume knob of the radio to the maximum. My four-year-old sister sleeping in the next room started crying because of all those noise and hullabaloo. At last the final whistle blew .The voice of the commentator was choked with emotion..” Aur is final whistle ke saath he Bharat Moscow Olympic me hockey ka swarn padak jeet liya hai….”

My mother rushed into the drawing room. We explained her everything and demanded money for Campa Cola (that time there was no Pepsi and Coca Cola had temporarily left India).The shopkeeper was a burly Sikh gentleman. We told him that India has won the gold medal and he sprang up from his chair and shouted, “Saabhash India, jeetey raho India, aaj to dil khush ho gaya.”  Then he treated us with Campa Cola and refused to accept any money.

  As the news spread, the people came out to greet one another. In the evening local youth, organization illuminated the area with decorative lights. At the request of my father, mother cooked special biryani for dinner to celebrate the victory.

   Spain’s Captain Juan Amat, who was a veteran of four Olympics and stood as a rock between India and the gold medal, received much praise from Indian press and public. Juan Amat represented Spain in four Olympics – 1968 (Mexico), 1972 (Munich), 1976 (Montreal) and1980 (Moscow), which was his swan song. He and India’s Surinder Singh Sodhi became the top scorer in the Moscow Olympics scoring sixteen goals each. The earlier record of India was of fifteen goals by Udham Singh in 1956 Melbourne Olympics.

  To the generations of Indians like me, born around the mid sixties, the gold medal won by Indian hockey team in Moscow Olympics is the only reliable link to the Indian hockey’s golden Olympic past and the first unforgettable experience of Chak de India in real sense.

A NEW BEGINNING

In 2012 I was introduced to the world of blogging for the first time.However because of some personal reasons I could not continue blogging except some stray posts.Now I have decided to start afresh and hope that this time I will be able to do blogging in a proper manner.