Note: - Before I begin my story I must acknowledge the invaluable contribution of my friend Pratip Biswas on this story. I got the inspiration for this story during a discussion with him on the three elements mentioned in the story. Frankly the elements, the concept, the theme evrything came from his words, I just wove them in a stupid story. Its like he provided all the beautiful flowers and I just put them in a thread to make the garland. I can take virtually no credit for it.
Poet Pradip, the greatest poet of his time wrote about the beauty of only three things – Night, Rain and Moon. He was also exceedingly handsome and most eligible bachelor of the country. His chiselled face accentuated by long curly hair along with a well built physique made him the fantasy of all women. But no earthly beauty could impress him, as he was so fascinated by the beauty of the three elements of his poems. No mortal woman could attain those standards of perfection, not even the exceptionally beautiful princess of the kingdom he lived in.
She was madly in love with him, even though princes and kings from around the world wished to marry her. Sadly though what she found was his rejection, which was too much for her. She committed suicide, but before death she said her ominous last words "The one who made me lose my love and gave me death, will find his love and yet won’t recognise her till he is on his death bed"
One night the poet was sitting on his balcony trying to think up some new poetry. He was almost half asleep, when he heard beautiful singing coming from a distance. He tried to find out the source of the sound. As he came out of his house and started walking towards the music he understood what he was hearing was a song sung by woman with ethereal voice. He had never heard such beautiful voice, such melody. It made him spellbound and he kept on walking towards her in a daze. Then he saw one of the most beautiful women he ever saw. Her hair black as the night, dark big eyes as deep as the night sky, she was epitome of beauty. And what was most surprising to him was the song she was singing, the lyrics was his own poem on beauty of night. But her melodious voice had given it a life of its own.
Seeing Pradip coming towards her the woman stopped singing and stood up. Pradip asked, "Who are you oh beautiful maiden?"
"I am Nisha, may I know which prince am I having the fortune of speaking to?" said the woman.
"Oh no, the fortune is mine, to hear such melodious voice and meet the beautiful owner of it. I am Pradip, no prince just a small poet. I wonder if you have heard of me, because the lines you just made immortal by singing have been penned by me".
Nisha exclaimed, "Oh you are the great poet Pradip! Pardon my bashfulness, but your poetry has touched my heart and soul. And even before I ever saw you, I have fallen in love with you. Now that I see you in person before me, you are exactly like the man of my dreams. Will you take me as your lover, your partner, oh master of lyrics?”
It was a proposal that took Pradip by surprise. She was certainly the most beautiful woman he ever seen, the beauty of her singing had even surpassed her physical beauty. But he was a man of poetry; he had dedicated his life and love to poetry and his favourite subjects Night Rain and Moon. How could he let a mortal woman dislodge him from his aim in his life? No matter how tempting her offer was he couldn't accept it. And as soon as he had this realisation, he refused it with most politest of words. Nisha had a surprised and sad look in her beautiful eyes hearing his refusal, but she accepted it and saying thank you for his kind words, she suddenly evaporated and before he could even be surprised over this dramatic event, he woke-up with a start, he found himself in his own balcony, sitting in the chair and the first rays of sun had started to lighten the world.
It was about a year after that incident, Pradip was called to the neighbouring kingdom by their king to recite his poetry. He was going through a jungle and it was raining heavily. Suddenly he heard the sound of "payal", someone dancing to a mesmerising tune and beats. He stopped the coachman and despite his protest Pradip went out in search of the dancer. A little distance away in the clearance he saw a small yet pretty hut and from inside the hut coming the sound of the payal and dancing. He hesitated a bit, but he saw the door ajar and went in. The scene before him stunned him. A woman of exceptional beauty was dancing with abandon. Her expressions, her mudras, her movements all showcased her virtuoso in the art of dancing. Her beauty was exceptional, every curve of her body was made to excite a man beyond senses, they moved more provocatively with her dance as if to spellbind every mortal that beheld the spectacle of her dancing. As Pradip gave more attention to her dance he was astonished to find that she was actually enacting a poem of his own, written on the beauty of a rain drenched earth and its creatures enjoying the boon of Indra.
The woman suddenly stopped dancing as she saw unknown man at her doorstep. She asked him politely, "Oh gentleman, what do I owe the pleasure of your company and pray what is your good name?"
A bit embarrassed that he had encroached upon the privacy of the lady uninvited, Pradip said, "I’m very sorry to intrude upon you like this. I was going through the forest, that’s when I heard the sound of your payal and the beats of your dancing pulled me towards here. I am just a small poet but I noticed that you are enacting the poem of mine. I must compliment you that you have rendered it a beautiful soul that I couldn't give it. May I know the name of such talent?". His words brought a glow of surprise and happiness in the beautiful amber eyes of the woman that radiated throughout her beautiful face. She said, "Oh my lord, I can’t believe this, you are poet Pradip, the man whom I, Versha, have dreamed since I heard your poems from the woodcutters. Oh how happy I am today. Please do stay, let me have the pleasure of your company for long, I will make sure you have the time of your life." It was as tempting an offer as any, no mortal man would ever refuse such an offer, but Pradip was no ordinary man. He was on journey of his life, the biggest king of north India had called him, an opportunity given to the rarest and most talented of jewels of the country. And this would give him a great name as a poet throughout the country, which was his goal of life. Hence even in face of great pull of Versha’s offer, Pradip said, "Oh my lovely lady, what you say is extremely hard to refuse, but I’m on a opportunity of lifetime as a poet, and I am sorry at the moment I cannot take your offer, but I promise to come back to you exactly a month back on my return journey" and saying this he took leave of Versha.
One month later, when Pradip was returning from his extremely successful tour, he told the coachman exactly where to go to find Versha's hut. But when he reached the place near the clearing was supposed to be, there he found everything changed. Let alone Versha and her hut, there was no clearing there at all. He searched frantically the area and the nearby but there was no clearing, the forest was evenly dense everywhere. Confused and disappointed he came back to the town.
It was another year after that, Pradip had become a famous poet not only in his own kingdom but also in entire India and was constantly travelling to various cities and kingdom's across the country upon invitations from kings and other important people. Getting such fame and wealth, Pradip had forgotten all about Nisha and Versha, he was just wishing his poetry to be recognised across the seas throughout the world.
One day came an invite thats almost like his dream came true. It was an invite from the kingdom of Paras across the sea. He was to perform with the best in the world at their Badshah's court. It was a two months sail to the land of Paras, yet Pradip didn’t give another thought in accepting the invitation. In two weeks time he went on board the ship to Paras.
One night during the journey to Paras, the ship had anchored near the shore of an unknown island. The captain of the ship warned everyone. "Tonight is a special Poornima (full moon) night, no one to look at the moon and moonlight tonight. It’s polluted tonight, plays tricks with mind and makes people go mad. So we all rest tonight. Everyone to be in their quarters and no one will be outside on top deck after sundown."
Pradip found the order blasphemous. He thought haughtily, “How can these illiterate people believe in such a thing? There is nothing more innocent and pure than the moon and they accuse it of playing treachery!!” He wanted to openly rebel and go on the top deck; he anyway wanted to enjoy the Poornima outside, as it was a time when he got inspired to write some verses on his beloved moon. But on the ship, the captain's words were the law and open rebel wouldn’t solve anything. So until everyone went asleep in their cabins, Pradip just waited in his own cabin. After midnight when he was sure every soul on the ship was asleep, Pradip came out of his cabin and headed for the top deck above. As expected no one was out, the superstitious sailors in fear of the cursed moon were all asleep in their cabins.
Pradip reached the top deck and the beauty of the moonlit-night just mesmerised him. This was certainly the most beautiful poornima night he had seen in his life. Everything shined and glowed in the bright moonlight and even the ugliest of things looked as if the were silver jewellery. The sea around was transformed. It was no more the dark ominous sea of the night but it was sea of liquid silver – beautiful, mesmerizing and inviting. No wonder Pradip thought the sailors feared the night – so much beauty can make people insane.
Just as he was looking around, Pradip’s eyes went towards the island nearby. There at the shore he saw something. He went closer to the side from where shore was closer. It was silhouette of a woman sitting and she had something on her lap which she was holding. He tried looking harder, with the scene he now started hearing a mesmerising tune that was coming from that same direction. Highly curious, Pradip looked around and saw the emergency boats. He went there and after a long and hard effort he was successful in lowering one to the sea. He jumped on the sea himself near to where the boat was and swam to it. Once he was onboard the boat he started paddling towards the direction of the island shore where he had seen the woman.
As Pradip drew nearer to the woman he saw she was playing “Santoor” the instrument with hundred cords and the amazing music he was listening to all this while was coming from her playing it. It was hypnotic, the music, the moonlit-night and the woman. To Pradip she didn’t seem to be from earth, she was so fair that in the moonlight she was literally glowing as if the moon itself has comedown on earth and playing the music of heaven. Hearing the paddling of Pradip the woman looked up to see the boat pulling close. She asked, “Welcome sailor, to my small island, what is your purpose of visit, are you lost?”
“Milady, I am not a sailor, I am a small poet, was travelling in the ship that is anchored near the shore of this island. I was just enjoying the Poornima-lit night when I heard the heavenly music you were playing and I was drawn here.” replied Pradip.
“Oh poet, are you?” asked the woman. “I actually love poetry, in fact credit of the music you are attributing to me is actually inspired by a great poet’s work on full-moon nights. He is from the east, his name is Pradip, you must have heard of him?!”
Pradip was shocked to say the least, “How could this woman so far away from my country living in this deserted island know my name and my work.” Thought Pradip, he couldn’t help but ask, “Pardon my rudeness milady, but who are you, how do you know my name and my work?”
Now it was turn of the woman to be astonished, “Your name?! You are the great poet Pradip. Oh I am Chanda, I have heard sailors passing by here in their ships say your poems. They are amazing, I can’t tell you how much effect they have on me. I have always wondered, if the poems are so beautiful, how beautiful will be the one who wrote them. And you are certainly the most handsome man I have ever met. You truly complete my aspiration for a perfect man.”
Pradip was amazed at her words, he thought, “How can such a beauty be in love with him. May be my mind is being tricked by this cursed Poornima as the captain warned. A single woman cannot survive in this lone island. I must leave.” He politely said, “I am humbled and honoured by your admiration milady, but I regret, I cannot be with you, my love is poetry, I want to spread it across the world and this is my first chance to do so outside my country, I must journey on, I am sorry”. With those words Pradip took Chanda’s leave and started paddling speedily back towards his ship.
But fate had something else in her mind. Just as he was paddling back he didn’t see a submerged rock his boat hit the rock hard, the impact threw him overboard and his head hit the another submerged rock. As he was losing his consciousness he realised in his haste he had got trapped in a rocky patch near the island with submerged rocks and unpredictable waves. He was losing blood rapidly and along with it his life. He tried calling sailors in his ship but they were far, sleeping in their cabins inside the ship. He tried calling Chanda, thinking she might hear him, but through hazy vision of his closing eyes he saw far away at the shore of the island where he met Chanda, there was no one now. Death was imminent and slowly Pradip was getting engulfed in the darkness of death.
Suddenly he saw light far away, it was dark all around but at a distance he saw light. He felt himself standing in the middle of the darkness, and without thinking anything he kept on walking towards the light. When he reached near the light he saw three figures standing there. As he drew more near he recognised them, on the left was the melodious singer Nishi, in the middle it was the vivacious dancer Versha and besides her on the right was the enchanting musician Chanda. He was surprised seeing all three of them together, “Was he dreaming a dream induced by severe loss of blood, was it just his life’s best moments going around before him as he is dying” he thought, but it somehow felt different, as if it was happening for real and happening now. He heard his own voice asking the women, “Who are you? Are you angels of death? Am I dead?”
The tree woman smiled, it was Nisha who spoke first, “No Oh great poet, we are not angels of death, I am Nisha – I am the night, yes the very same night, whose mysteries and attractions you describe so fondly in your poetry”
Versha added, “Yes O dear poet, and I am Versha, the rains you so lovingly use to paint your poems with romance”
Finally Chanda spoke, “and I am Chanda, yes the moon, whose beauty you describe in your poems to be greater than any lover”
They all said in unison, “Yes we are the three main elements in your poetry, the elements you have proclaimed repeatedly are only worthy of loving. Oh great poet Pradip, your poems have not only touched the souls of mortals, but it also touched each of us, and we despite all the rules of the universe couldn’t help but to come to you are offer our companionship to you…but….”
What he was hearing was unbelievable, Pradip thought this can’t be, “My mind is playing tricks with me, it’s the cursed moonlight, the hit on my head and loss of blood is causing the hallucination.”
But the women said suddenly breaking his line of thought, “Its not a dream O great poet Pradip, the accident of your boat has caused your soul to be free of your body, and now it journeys to the other world. It is no dream, we are real, we all came to you in real, but you failed to recognise us, failed to recognise your love for us…”
Pradip realised within himself, they were telling the truth, the realisation hit him heard, he was aggrieved deeply, he thought “What a fool I have been, I have not only failed to recognise those beautiful elements in real that I have been portraying all my life in my poetry, I have squandered the chance to be with them for real, and now I am dead and my goal and mission of my life to spread my poetry world over, for which I even left all the offers of love is all over. With me my name too will be gone.”
Yet again as if reading his thoughts the three women said, “Don’t be so harsh on yourself of great Poet, Its not your fault, you were cursed by the maiden Princess’s final words and hence you were never could recognise us. But don’t be disheartened, your life’s goal is not lost, your body may have died today, but your work will be remembered till we three elements exist on this earth. Your work will reach every corner of this world, and every work of literature henceforth will try to portray us when it comes to beauty, love and romance.”
It was the first rays of morning light that the sailors woke up, first among them was the captain of the ship, before he was going to give the sailing orders he once gave a inspective look around though his telescope, as he was looking around he found something was floating at the rocky patch near the island. As he focused more he saw broken remains of one of his ship’s emergency boats, and a little away on the rocks was what seem to be a body. He immediately dispatched a search and rescue party towards the place. The party returned with the dead body of the poet Pradip who was sailing with them. Most of the sailors including the captain knew what a great poet he was. They gave him a respectful burial at the island. Later when the ship reached Paras, the captain personally took the works of poet Pradip to the King’s court there. Everyone including the king was deeply saddened by the news of poet’s death and they marked a ceremony in his honour. Where his poetry were recited, the king also declared the poems of the great poet Pradip will be published and sent across the world so that everyone across the world can enjoy the beautiful works.
I know the story I told may seem to be fiction or fantasy, it might seem all figment of my imagination. But if you are a poet or a writer, if you ever used Night, Rain or Moon in your creations, remember this, it was all because of poet Pradip that these elements are coming through in your literary work.
