Poetry Chaikhana Blog

Ivan M. Granger November 13th, 2009

I drink no ordinary wine
by Ramprasad (Ramprasad Sen)

I drink no ordinary wine,
but Wine of Everlasting Bliss,
As I repeat my Mother Kali’s name;
It so intoxicates my mind that people take me to be drunk!
First my guru gives molasses for the making of the Wine;
My longing is the ferment to transform it.
Knowledge, the maker of the Wine,
prepares it for me then;
And when it is done,
my mind imbibes it from the bottle of the mantra,
Taking the Mother’s name to make it pure.
Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad,
and the four fruits of life are yours.

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

/ Photo by Findsiddiqui /

As with so many poems describing the experience of ecstatic union, this poem refers to wine, but “no ordinary wine.”

The “molasses” given by the guru to make the wine of sacred bliss is diksha or shaktipat — the energetic initiation given by a guru, usually accompanied by a mantra, in order to begin the process of awakening the Kundalini force within the seeker.

His intense desire or longing for God, the Divine Mother, “ferments” that energy, causing it to bubble and expand, giving it a vitality of its own.

When its expansion is complete, through spiritual practice and devotion, the Kundalini Shakti rises from the seat to the crown, complimented by the descending of a divine current that has a sweetness in the mouth and throat that is like drinking a heavenly liquid.

“Drink of this Wine, says Ramprasad” — indeed, we should!

Although stories abound in the life of Ramprasad Sen, little exists that would satisfy a strict historian.

Ramprasad was born in a small village along the Ganges, just outside of Calcutta in Bengal, India. His father was an Ayurvedic doctor.

As a boy, Ramprasad showed himself to be an excellent student and displayed a natural talent for poetry and language.

Although he impressed everyone with his intellectual abilities, he showed no interest in taking up the family profession of Ayurveda or any profession, for that matter. His increasing otherworldliness and interest in spiritual practices worried his parents, who were afraid he would renounce the world. To head off that possibility, his parents married their meditative son to a beautiful young girl.

Soon after the marriage, Ramprasad’s father died, leaving the family in poverty. As the oldest son, the responsibility fell on Ramprasad to provide for the entire family. Despite his bright mind, Ramprasad struggled to find employment.

He eventually found a job as an accountant’s clerk in nearby Calcutta. But he couldn’t prevent his devotional poetry from pouring out. Lacking good paper, he wrote his poems in the margins of his account ledgers. Some of his coworkers noticed this and complained to the manager that Ramprasad was writing poetry rather than keeping the accounts. The manager demanded to see Ramprasad’s ledgers. Upon reading Ramprasad’s songs to the mother goddess Kali, the manager was so moved that he told Ramprasad to go home and devote all his time to his writing — and he would still draw the same monthly pay.

Ramprasad turned deeply to his spiritual practices and poetry, often singing his songs by the banks of the Ganges or immersed, neck-deep in the sacred waters.

One day a local Maharaja heard Ramprasad singing songs to Kali. He appointed Ramprasad as court poet, granting him enough land to support his family. It was then that Ramprasad delved more deeply in Tantric spiritual practices, often fasting and sitting in a nearby meditation garden.

He began to have visions of Mother Kali. His songs and quiet charisma started to draw devotees.

Ramprasad and his wife had four children. Finances continued to be a challenge for Ramprasad and his family. His intense focus on spiritual practices meant he neglected the day-to-day maintenance of his land, yet the family continued to get by.

Ramprasad’s poetry to the Mother Goddess Kali is playful, petulant, blissful, rageful — and sometimes shocking. His poetry shows the whole tempestuous relationship between a child and his Mother, between the soul and God. He doesn’t just show one face to the Divine Mother, he doesn’t just pretend to be ‘the good little boy;’ he communicates everything to Her nakedly. And, in doing so, he achieves a profound intimacy with the Divine.

More poetry by Ramprasad (Ramprasad Sen)

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