6 verses · ~2 min
देश में जिधर भी जाता हूँ, उधर ही एक आह्वान सुनता हूँ "जड़ता को तोड़ने के लिए भूकम्प लाओ । घुप्प अँधेरे में फिर अपनी मशाल जलाओ । पूरे पहाड़ हथेली पर उठाकर पवनकुमार के समान तरजो । कोई तूफ़ान उठाने को कवि, गरजो, गरजो, गरजो!"
सोचता हूँ, मैं कब गरजा था? जिसे लोग मेरा गर्जन समझते हैं, वह असल में गाँधी का था, उस गाँधी का था, जिस ने हमें जन्म दिया था ।
तब भी हम ने गाँधी के तूफ़ान को ही देखा, गाँधी को नहीं ।
वे तूफ़ान और गर्जन के पीछे बसते थे । सच तो यह है कि अपनी लीला में तूफ़ान और गर्जन को शामिल होते देख वे हँसते थे ।
तूफ़ान मोटी नहीं, महीन आवाज़ से उठता है । वह आवाज़ जो मोम के दीप के समान एकान्त में जलती है, और बाज नहीं, कबूतर के चाल से चलती है ।
गाँधी तूफ़ान के पिता और बाजों के भी बाज थे । क्योंकि वे नीरवताकी आवाज थे।
इति
The Poet
रामधारी सिंह 'दिनकर'
Ramdhari Singh 'Dinkar'
1908 · 1974
There are poets who write of an age, and there are poets who become the age itself. Ramdhari Singh 'Dinkar' belongs entirely to the latter, a man in whom the entire volcanic conscience of a colonized and awakening civilization found its most thunderous utterance. He did not arrive at poetry. He erupted into it, carrying the red earth of Bihar's Simariya, the grief of a humiliated nation, and the primordial fire of Kshatriya rage that runs like lava beneath the crust of centuries. His verse was never merely literature, it was the psychological armature of a people learning to stand upright after centuries of bowed submission. When Dinkar wrote of Veer Rasa, it was not an aesthetic exercise. It was a consecration. His words did not describe courage, they manufactured it, pressing it into the chests of readers who had forgotten what courage smelled like. Works like Kurukshetra, Urvashi, and Rashmirathi are not books, they are monuments hewn from the granite of collective destiny. Rashmirathi alone resurrected Karna from the footnotes of mythology and placed him at the very center of moral tragedy, making the question of righteousness ache with a freshness that still draws blood. He carried the dust of ancient battlefields on his tongue and the roar of the Ganga in his lungs. Nehru wept at his verses. Parliament fell silent when he read. India named him Rashtrakavi, the poet of the nation, and it was the single most honest title the republic ever conferred. In the grand cathedral of Hindi literature, Dinkar is not a pillar. He is the foundation stone.
Paired Painting
Parashurama, the Sixth Avatar of Lord Vishnu
Parashurama stands as a formidable figure in the Hindu tradition, revered as the sixth avatar of Lord Vishnu. He is the eternal warrior sage, a Brahmin who wields the axe to restore cosmic order, or Dharma, when it is threatened by the corruption of kings. In this masterfully rendered lithograph from the Ravi Varma Press, we see him portrayed not merely as a destructive force, but as a grounded, meditative presence. His posture upon the rock, clutching his signature parashu, or battle axe, reflects a moment of quiet strength before the storm of his divine mission. The print served as a bridge between the divine and the everyday, allowing devotees to contemplate the ferocious yet disciplined character of this immortal sage within their own sacred home spaces.
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