Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Ivan M. Granger February 20th, 2009

The black bee of my mind is drawn in sheer delight
by Kamalakanta

The black bee of my mind is drawn in sheer delight
To the blue lotus flower of Mother Shyama’s feet,
The blue flower of the feet of Kali, Shiva’s Consort;
Tasteless, to the bee, are the blossoms of desire.
My Mother’s feet are black, and black, too, is the bee;
Black is made one with black! This much of the mystery
My mortal eyes behold, then hastily retreat.
But Kamalakanta’s hopes are answered in the end;
He swims in the Sea of Bliss, unmoved by joy or pain.

— from Kali: The Black Goddess of Dakshineswar, by Elizabeth U. Harding

/ Photo by Meanest Indian /

In the imagery associated with the goddess Kali (Shyama), black is the divine color, for it is the color of mystery, of the night, that which is beyond knowing, the color that swallows all other colors.

My Mother’s feet are black, and black, too, is the bee…

With devotion, the busy bee of the mind becomes quiet and “black” like the vast, still mystery of God (or, rather, Goddess). Drawn to the center of awareness, it loses itself in the blissful nectar’s sweetness, until…

Black is made one with black!

Beautiful!

—

(Kali isn’t normally depicted as such an old woman, but the eyes of the woman in this photograph, so quiet and keen within that beautifully weathered face, just made me think, “Those are the eyes of the mother goddess peering into the heart…”)

Kamalakanta Chakravarti, usually known simply as Kamalakanta, is thought to have been born around the year 1773 in the Bengali district of Burdwan, in India. His father was a Brahmin priest who died when Kamalakanta was still a boy. His mother struggled financially to provide for the family with the meager income from the small amount of land left to them, but she managed to send Kamalakanta to higher education.

Kamalakanta was a bright student, studying Sanskrit and showing an early talent for poetry and music.

It is said that “his heart opened to the love of God” when he received the sacred thread and was initiated into spiritual practice. Kamalakanta’s mother, however, was disturbed to see her teenaged son adopting the air of a renunciate, so she quickly arranged a marriage to a beautiful young woman. Soon after the marriage, however, the woman died. Kamalakanta’s mother quickly found a second wife for her son, and Kamalakanta married again.

Kamalakanta eventually took Tantric initiation, integrating his spiritual calling with his worldly life and responsibilities.

In order to support his family, Kamalakanta started a small school in addition to his inherited work as a Brahmin priest. But Kamalakanta struggled to make ends meet.

After some time the reputation of the ecstatic Kali-devoted poet came to the attention of the local prince. The Maharaja asked Kamalakanta to become his guru and appointed him as a court advisor.

With his family’s basic needs now taken care of, he turned more and more deeply to spiritual practice and worship of Kali.

It is said that when Kamalakanta was near death, he asked to be taken to the banks of the Ganges River. Just as he was brought there, an unexpected flood rose up and carried his body away. The Ganges, an expression of the Divine Mother whom he had worshipped all his life, had claimed him as Her own.

There is something wonderfully terrible about the devotion of the great Kali poets, particularly Kamalakanta and Ramprasad. In their poetry and their worship, they are saying, in effect, “Do whatever it takes, Mother, to bring me to you. Shatter me, if you must. Destroy me. I don’t care. So long as you do not withhold yourself!” Such spiritual courage is both frightening and exhilarating to participate in.

More poetry by Kamalakanta

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