यों मन कबहूँ तुमहिं न लाग्यो

The Poet

तुलसीदास

Tulsidas

1532 · 1623

There are works of literature, and there are works that become the living tissue of a civilization works so deeply absorbed into the bloodstream of a people that they cease to be read and begin, instead, to be breathed. Tulsidas's Ramcharitmanas is that second and almost impossibly rare thing. Composed in Awadhi in the sixteenth century, at a time when Sanskrit had erected a wall of exclusion around sacred knowledge, the Ramcharitmanas was an act of radical democratization a decision by a scholar of profound erudition to lay down his privilege and carry the light directly to those who had been told they were unworthy of it. Tulsidas took the Valmiki Ramayana and did not merely translate it. He recomposed it in the devotional key of Bhakti, saturating every couplet with such concentrated love that the text functions as much as a spiritual practice as a literary one. Generations of Hindu households have woken before dawn to the sound of these verses, heard them at birth and at death, found in them the moral grammar by which they ordered their lives. Tulsidas was not merely a poet. He was, in the most precise sense, an architect one who built a cathedral large enough for an entire subcontinent to live inside. The structure still stands. It has sheltered half a billion souls and shows no sign of age.