‘Escape to the Blue Sea’

‘Escape to the Blue Sea’ is a 30×40 cms large original expressionist seascape painting of a blue sea with a boat in the middle of it. The colours are blues, lilacs and pinks and the scene shows a small boat sailing amidst the blue sea, as a wave breaks on the beach from the calm sea. My aim in painting this was to limit my usually very bright colour palette to just a few colours as I wanted the scene to be relaxing and contemplative. The sky above is extremely dramatic symbolizing as though the calm may end soon. I think the sea speaks to all of us and I often paint seascapes in order to have bit of a reminder of that holiday feeling you get when looking out over an ocean. It is painted on deep edge canvas, white edges, ready to hang, no frame needed.

Akangsha Chakraborty
An artist based in Delhi and I paint large original landscape and seascape paintings in oil on canvas. In her words…
“My painting style is a fusion of Expressionist, Semi-abstract, a little Art Nouveau and whatever mood I am in that day. I am inspired by the patterns of nature and the energy, colours and spaces of the landscapes and animals around me. I like to think that paintings have ‘little souls’ woven into them by artist’s and that these are what call to a viewer (or not as the case may be) and give a painting presence and desirability. My aim is to make art that offers a glimpse of spaces and possibilities where people can escape the manic pace of life and imagine themselves somewhere better – even if just for a little while.”

Certainly Uncertain

Ka lynti ka kylluid
Ka mon ka laitluid
La me kwah ban long briew
Ne me kwah ban long ksuid

The path is wide, the will is free, whether you wish to be a human, or you wish to be a demon.

Mawphlang, 27 May 2020
They were playing outside their hut, and little Daphi was dangling from her father’s arm. It had been pouring for days. The picturesque village of Madan Bitaw was gloomy beyond words, but still, the joy of a father and a daughter filled the atmosphere with an air of lightness. It rained incessantly, and the rumbling of clouds muffled some unmistakable omens. Suddenly they heard a massive thud and turned back to discover that a part of their house, was lying in the gorge below.
Beirut, 4 August 2020
Merged in himself, Zuhair was gliding his fingers through the piano. Initially, he did not notice that the clock was unusually jittery, and the small statue of Buddha on his table came to life with a sudden shudder. As the eerie movements continued for a few more seconds, he fell back on his musical mood and tried hard to ignore them. But soon, he failed not to see the curtains blowing up, and the room strewn with glasses with a bang and a dazzling light, only to be cursed to darkness right after.
If we struggle to go beyond the confines of certainty, we reach an elusive expectation of regularity. The rhythm of life that we have got used to over the years of going through the ruts, with our repetitive thoughts, actions, and even dreams, gets a jolt when something unusual happens. It happens in imperceptible forms in our daily lives, but seldom does it take the shape of the present crisis humanity has been going through. The pandemic has made us stand in front of the precipice of uncertainty. With everything slipping from our hands, we are clenching our fists against anything floating by. Is it in anger or desperation? We do not know.
Heisenberg tells us that the basis of the universe is uncertainty at the micro-level. But still, even at the cosmological scale, Nature displays perfect regularity. As if it is testifying to an oxymoron! Being the conscious centres of it, we have an immense opportunity to explore the mysteries and to find ways through the mire of incongruence – an incongruence that bewilders us.
Standing in front of the yawning chasm of death we wonder what this inchoate life means. We turn our eyes inwards, and as we go towards the centre of the revolving wheel, we start discovering a peace that permeates all our actions. We open our eyes, wondering how we missed the underlying symphony in a world full of apparent discord and in this flux of events, we learn to hold on to the stream that flows steadily through us.
Tip briew, tip blei. To understand man is to understand the Great Divinity beyond. The One who is beyond the world of sorrow and uncertainty.

The Leech: A Khasi folktale

Once there lived a young cowherd, in the rolling lush green hills of the Khasis. As in olden days, and even in today’s village life, every member of a family are allotted certain duties to perform on a daily basis2.

U Bahep (a nickname given to the cowherd by his family and known to everyone in the village) was a very lazy young man. Every day by sunrise, there would be hustle and bustle in the village, as most of the people would be up and about doing their daily chores.

All, except for Bahep; who even after being roused several times by the shrill voices of his mother and sisters; though awake, would still laze in bed. He was always the last person to get out of bed, and also the last one to start his daily chores and this was known to everyone in the village.
It would almost be noon, by the time he took his cattle out to graze in the open pastures. Upon reaching, he would let his cattle loose and climb onto a nearby tree branch to have a bird’s eye view of his cattle grazing.

On more than one occasion, he would have to climb down the tree, to look for a cow that had strayed, and he knew he would be held accountable for any missing cow, which bothered him, as he intended to relax and nap on a tree branch without any disturbance.

He pondered over the same, and came up with a solution that if one did not see a thing happen, then one cannot be held responsible for such incidents. Therefore, to maintain a clear conscience, he devised a way to remove his eyeballs from his eye sockets, which he then wrapped in a leaf, and tied with a length of vine and hung them on a nearby branch. This became a daily habit of his, and at dusk, satisfied with his nap would reach for his eyeballs and put them back in his eye sockets. He would then round up his cattle, and drive them back to their shed. One many occasions, when one or more of the cattle would be missing, and he would be scolded by his father, Bahep would delegate the task of looking for the lost cow(s) to his younger brothers and cousins by bullying and threatening them.

One afternoon, ‘U Khlieng’ a kite, perched upon the tree Bahep was napping on, looking for insects to feed on, and spotted the eyeballs in the leaf hanging by the vines on one of the branches. Thinking it was some sort insect; the kite picked them up and flew away. When the dusk set in, U Bahep started to grope in the dark for the vines in which he had strung his eyeballs in, but alas!! it was all in vain. Bahep, frantic, fell off the tree on the ground below, and desperately kept on groping around in the hope of finding his missing eyeballs.

Days, nights, weeks and months passed, and his search continued amongst the pastures and the trees he used to frequent. In this search he strayed and was lost in the middle of nowhere. As time passed, he shrunk in size little by little, as he had little or no food to sustain him, and this took a heavy toll on his entire being, which to adapt, evolved and metamorphosised into a leech without eyes and only a mouth, which he used, to attach himself to the cows to feed on their blood when they grazed in the pastures.
Moral of the story: Don’t be lazy! The cowherd was a strong, healthy and able bodied young man, but due to his laziness he shunned all his responsibilities and was completely careless. His irresponsible and irrational behavior reduced his whole being from a full-fledged human who once herded cows out to graze on the green pastures, to being a leech, which clings to the grasses and latches onto the same cows to feed himself. According to Khasi Folklore this is how a leech, one of Nature’s Creations, came into being.

Does Humanity Have a Future?:The Need for a Philosophy of Universal Acceptance

Jeffery D. Long
With each passing day, it seems that our world becomes a more dangerous and frightening place. There is of course the coronavirus, as well as the wider environmental crisis that has given rise to it. And then there are conflicts between human beings of different religions, nationalities, and ethnic groups. One may be tempted to ask if humanity has a future, given all of these many, very serious problems that we all face. One might even go further and ask if humanity deserves to have a future, given that we have ourselves created the problems that we are experiencing. For young people, especially, who did not create these problems, but are inheriting problems that are the result of poor decision making by older generations, the issue of survival is particularly urgent.

Yet, in the midst of all of these problems, we see cause for hope. The coronavirus is a very serious issue, but, like all the diseases that have ravaged humanity in the past, it will one day be cured or managed. While our environmental issues are also quite grave, there are also innovative technologies being developed and new ways of organizing ourselves economically that are being imagined which have the potential to show the way out of this dire situation. And in the midst of even the worst conflicts across communities, one finds pockets of sanity, in which members of one community will rescue members of the other community from the violence that threatens them. In my own country, the United States, where there are, as I am writing this, massive protests against racism and violence carried out by the police, there are also police who support these protests, so long as they are peaceful, and who themselves wish to see a society free from racial prejudice.
There is reason for hope because, if human beings have created the problems that we now face, it is also human beings who will develop the means for solving them. We are a species with great potential both for creation and for destruction. We have been tremendously destructive, but have also been tremendously creative as well. It is our positive creativity, which, in the Vedanta tradition is seen to be a manifestation of our inner divinity, that has the ability to save the day.
Focusing specifically on conflict across belief systems and ethnic and national groups, two of the greatest visionaries of history, who had the capacity to perceive how we might all learn to co-exist, were Swami Vivekananda, and his teacher, Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa.
Swami Vivekananda, or Swamiji, who was the first Indian spiritual teacher to travel to the Western world in the modern era to share the wisdom of Vedanta with Americans and Europeans, taught a vision of what he called “universal acceptance.” In his famous welcome address, given at the World Parliament of Religions, which was held in Chicago in 1893, he proclaimed his pride in belonging “to a religion which has taught the world both tolerance and universal acceptance. We believe not only in universal toleration, but we accept all religions as true.”1
Two important things need to be noted about Swami Vivekananda’s teaching of universal acceptance. First, there is the distinction between acceptance and tolerance. Secondly, there is the question of what it means to accept all religions as true.
I have asked my students on many occasions, “If your friend, or a beloved family member, said to you today, ‘I tolerate you, ’ how would you feel?” Tolerance is, of course, much better than intolerance. If someone is intolerant, it means that they cannot even stand our existence. They are so hostile to us–perhaps because of our beliefs, or our appearance, or our language, or our ethnic origin–that they truly wish that we did not exist. They cannot tolerate the fact that there are people who are different from themselves.
But tolerance is not the highest ideal to which we can aspire. If we are tolerated, it is as if we are merely being allowed to exist. It does not mean that our existence is a cause for rejoicing. It is more like the person who tolerates us would rather we were not there, but they are not going to act on that feeling. Swamiji understood this very well. He said, in another one of his lectures, “Why should I tolerate? Toleration means that I think that you are wrong and I am just allowing you to live. Is it not a blasphemy to think that you and I are allowing others to live?”2 Who am I, and who are you, to say that one person or another deserves to live, or does not deserve to live?
Tolerance, again, is better than intolerance. It is certainly much better to ‘allow’ people to live than not to allow them to live: to murder them. But even this sense of ‘allowing’ another to live falls far short of the highest ideal which we are capable of achieving. Can we not do something more than not murdering others? What is this ideal? This is the ideal which Swami Vivekananda calls acceptance, saying, “I believe in acceptance.”3
What does acceptance mean? Swamiji elaborates upon it as follows:
I accept all religions that were in the past, and worship with them all; I worship God with every one of them, in whatever form they worship Him. I shall go to the mosque…I shall enter the Christian’s church and kneel before the crucifix; I shall enter the Buddhistic temple, where I shall take refuge in Buddha and in his Law. I shall go into the forest and sit down in meditation with the Hindu, who is trying to see the Light which enlightens the heart of every one. Not only shall I do all these, but I shall keep my heart open for all that may come in the future.”4
Acceptance, particularly in regard to different religions, involves seeing different paths not as rival ways of being with which one is in competition, but as many paths to the same ultimate goal. This is rooted in the teaching of Swami Vivekananda’s guru, Sri Ramakrishna, who himself practiced a wide array of spiritual disciplines, drawing from many diverse traditions, and found that each of the paths that he followed led to the experience of samādhī, or absorption in the divine:
I have practiced…all religions–Hinduism, Islam, Christianity–and I have also followed the paths of the different Hindu sects. I have found that it is the same God toward whom all are directing their steps, though along different paths…Wherever I look, I see men quarrelling in the name of religion…But they never reflect that He who is called Krishna is also called Śiva, and bears the name of the Primal Energy, Jesus, and Āllāh as well–the same Rāma with a thousand names.5
How is it possible, though, to accept many paths as true, given the real differences amongst the world’s religions? Hindus, Buddhists, and Jains, for example, believe in rebirth, while in the Christian and Islamic traditions, this idea is denied. How can both understandings be true?
Universal acceptance does not mean that one necessarily must believe everything taught in every religion. This is clearly not possible, given the contradictions among religious worldviews. It does mean, though, that one is open to the particular perspective on truth which a given religion expresses. Each religion captures a different aspect of reality, much like the different parts of the elephant grasped by the various blind men in the famous Indian metaphor of the blind men and the elephant. The important thing, according to Sri Ramakrishna, is that the practice of any religion can be effective in helping one advance toward God realization. This does not mean the religion has to be true in every single respect, but that its core values and its basic orientation toward infinite Reality enable the practitioner to be transformed: to overcome ego and to realize the true, divine Self within.
Does humanity have a future? This will depend on our choices, in the present moment and in the years to come. We need to reduce our greed and attachment to material comfort and work for an ecological state in which all beings, and not only human beings, can thrive and flourish. We need to change many of our habits, and move from a state of ego-centeredness, or even national-centeredness (which can be a mere extension of the ego), to a state of cosmic consciousness. And we need to see one another’s religions and perspectives as alternate paths, alternate views of reality from which we can learn, and ways to realization in their own right, and not as rivals.
If the philosophy of universal acceptance taught by Swami Vivekananda–and lived out to its fullest extent by Sri Ramakrishna, with his practice of many paths–were to be widely adopted worldwide, then there would be good reason to hope for the future of humanity and a peaceful world.
Swami Vivekananda, Complete Works, Volume One (Mayavati: Advaita Ashrama, 1979).
Swami Nikhilananda, trans. The Gospel of Sri Ramakrishna (New York: Ramakrishna Vivekananda Center, 1942).

Jeffery D. Long is a religious studies scholar who works on the religions and philosophies of India, particularly Hinduism and Jainism. He is a professor of religion and Asian studies at Elizabethtown College.
Dr. Long is associated with the Vedanta Society, DĀNAM (the Dharma Academy of North America). A major theme of his work is religious pluralism. Dr. Long has authored several books.

The Golden Casket

Melban Lyngdoh
The Golden Casket
Bloom of a new light,
Gold - as precious as diamond.
Box full of new mystery.
Open it and you will be swallowed,
Ignore it and you will be chased.
Wonders that were never seen
Time and day will fail to cease.
Dark as the starry sky you see,
Feelings that were never heard or felt to spell
You may see it but fail to be felt
You cannot get out until you answer it,
You cannot hear it until you question it.
Once you answer it day will come
You will forget it all, and it will vanish.
You won’t find it,
You won’t see it.
The secret will be revealed for once and forever,
Days will start again from where it stopped.


Manphika Surong
She hides herself, when she’s most beautiful.
She clothes herself, with luminous grace.
Her lustrous desires never ceases,
As she peeks on every face.
She hears the young ones cry,
And the soft moans of the sky.
To her,
Every secret is known.
Every pain unveiled.
She sees the wounds of the little women;
The romantic dates of young lovers.
Some days, it’s murderous attempts.
She can save, not a single soul.
She hears the silence of the city,
And the roar of a man’s heart.
To her,
Every desire is revealed.
Every soul is uncovered.
As she clothes herself with luminous grace.

मुझे बोनसाई नहीं होना

राजकुमार जैन ‘राजन’, चित्तौड़

उस रास्ते की तलाश है
जो बचा सके
संस्कारों की दरकती हुई
सीमा रेखा को
और जो याद दिलाए
लोगों को
क्षणभंगुर अस्तित्व की
मुझे अपनी जिंदगी से
बहुत उम्मीदें हैं
अपने मन की
अबोध शाखाओं में उगे
बड़े-बड़े सपनों को
सच होते देखना चाहता हूँ
मुझमें है उद्भट संघर्षशीलता
उन्मुक्त जिजीविषा
और हिलोरें मारता जुनून
पता नहीं जीवन क्रम
कहाँ टूट जाये
मैं अपने
हिमालयी अहसासों के साथ
देश व समाज के लिए
कांटों से खुद को बचाते हुए
मेहनत के खूब फूल
उगाना चाहता हूँ
सिरहाने पड़े ख्वाबों को
श्रम-मंत्र बनाकर
सफलता का स्वर्णिम
प्रकाश फैलाने के लिए
हमारे सपनों के
पेड़ों की टहनियाँं
छोटी होगी
तो बेवक्त सूख जायेगी
पतझड़ रचने लगेंगे षड्यंत्र
हमारा अपना होने का अर्थ
मिट जाएगा
क्योंकि सत्य सदा सत्य है
बौने सपने देखकर
मुझे बोनसाई नहीं होना!

आजादी अमृत महोत्सव

मुझे बोनसाई नहीं होना



What makes the Lightning

In the early days of the world, when the animals fraternised with mankind, they tried to emulate the manners and customs of men, and they spoke their language.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

Mankind held a great festival every thirteen moons, where the strongest men and the handsomest youths danced “sword dances” and contested in archery and other noble games, such as befitted their race and their tribe as men of the Hills and the Forests—the oldest and the noblest of all the tribes.

The animals used to attend these festivals and enjoyed watching the games and the dances. Some of the younger and more enterprising among them even clamoured for a similar carnival for the animals, to which, after a time, the elders agreed; so it was decided that the animals should appoint a day to hold a great feast.

After a period of practising dances and learning games, U Pyrthat, the thunder giant, was sent out with his big drum to summon all the world to the festival. The drum of U Pyrthat was the biggest and the loudest of all drums, and could be heard from the most remote corner of the forest; consequently a very large multitude came together, such as had never before been seen at any festival.

The animals were all very smartly arrayed, each one after his or her own taste and fashion, and each one carrying some weapon of warfare or a musical instrument, according to the part he intended to play in the festival. There was much amusement when the squirrel came up, beating on a little drum as he marched; in his wake came the little bird Shakyllia, playing on a flute, followed by the porcupine marching to the rhythm of a pair of small cymbals.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

Every one was exceedingly merry—they joked and poked fun at one another, in great glee: some of the animals laughed so much on that feast day that they have never been able to laugh since. The mole was there, and on looking up he saw the owl trying to dance, swaying as if she were drunk, and tumbling against all sorts of obstacles, as she could not see where she was going, at which he laughed so heartily that his eyes became narrow slits and have remained so to this day.

When the merriment was at its height U Kui, the lynx, arrived on the scene, displaying a very handsome silver sword which he had procured at great expense to make a show at the festival. When he began to dance and to brandish the silver sword, everybody applauded. He really danced very gracefully, but so much approbation turned his head, and he became very uplifted, and began to think himself better than all his neighbours.

Just then U Pyrthat, the thunder giant, happened to look round, and he saw the performance of the lynx and admired the beauty of the silver sword, and he asked to have the handling of it for a short time, as a favour, saying that he would like to dance a little, but had brought no instrument except his big drum.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

This was not at all to U Kui’s liking, for he did not want any one but himself to handle his fine weapon; but all the animals began to shout as if with one voice, saying “Shame! ” for showing such discourtesy to a guest, and especially to the guest by whose kindly offices the assembly had been summoned together; so U Kui was driven to yield up his silver sword.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

As soon as U Pyrthat got possession of the sword he began to wield it with such rapidity and force that it flashed like leaping flame, till all eyes were dazzled almost to blindness, and at the same time he started to beat on his big drum with such violence that the earth shook and trembled and the animals fled in terror to hide in the jungle.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

During the confusion U Pyrthat leaped to the sky, taking the lynx’s silver sword with him, and he is frequently seen brandishing it wildly there and beating loudly on his drum. In many countries people call these manifestations “thunder” and “lightning, ” but the Ancient Khasis who were present at the festival knew them to be the stolen sword of the lynx.

Illustrations: Agniv Das, Class 7, Heritage Academy High School, Howrah

U Kui was very disconsolate, and has never grown reconciled to his loss. It is said of him that he has never wandered far from home since then, in order to live near a mound he is trying to raise, which he hopes will one day reach the sky. He hopes to climb to the top of it, to overtake the giant U Pyrthat, and to seize once more his silver sword.

Agniv Das of Class 7 at Heritage Academy High school at Howrah, West Bengal is a budding artist. He loves to paint, sculpt and is attracted to all forms of visual Art.
He took up online painting classes conducted by Ramakrishna Mission Vivekananda Cultural Centre to hone his talent.

U Swami Vivekananda: U ‘Riewshlur jong ka ri India

Artists of Ramakrishna Mission Vivekananda Cultural Centre, depicting the visit of Swami Vivekananda in Shillong

Ha ka 12 tarik, u kyllalyngkot, 1863, la kha ïa uwei u khyllung bad la khot kyrteng ia u, u Narendranath. Hadien ynda u la rangbah la tip ïa uta u khyllung haka pyrthei da ka kyrteng u Swami Vivekanada u kpa jong u, U Vishwanath Datta bad ka kmie jong u ka Bhuvaneswari- Devi, ki shong ha Calcutta. Ki bahaiing ha sem jong u ki long ki ba riewspah, badonburom bad ba don ka mynsiem isynei ïaki baduk-bashitom. U kpa jong u, u Vishwanath Datta, u long u Nongiasaid ba pawkhmat ha iing Kashari heh ha Calcutta. U Vishwanath, u long u briew u ban ang ban pule ïaka ktien Persian bad English. U ju bang ban pule ïa ki jingrwai ba la thoh u Hafiz. U ju sngewtynnad ruh ban pule ïa ka Bible bad ki kot niam Hindu ba la thoh ha ka ktien Sanskrit. Ka Bhanuveswari Devi, ka kmie u Vivekananda ka long ka briew kaba riewblei katta katta. Dei na kine ki jinglong ha ïing hasem kiba btin lynti ïa ka jinglong khraw u Vivekananda hadien habud.
Kumba ju long lem ki para khynnah, u long u bym lah shah ka kti ka kjat. U bang eh tang ban ïaleh kai bad leh sngewbha. Hynrei, wat la katta ruh kiei kiei kiba kynja mynsiem ki ju ring ïa ki jingmut jingpyrkhat jong u, khamtam ha ki jingpyrkhat ba jylliew ba kynja niam. Ki jingiathuhkhana, na ka Ramayana bad Mahabharata kiba la ïathuh da ka kmie jong u, ki ngam jylliew na ka jingmut jingpyrkhat jong u. Ki kam shlur, ki jingisynei ia ki ba rangli, bad ka jingshahshitom jong kito kiba wad ïa U Blei, ki shoh jingmut bha ïa u wat la u dang long tang u khynnah.
Kum u khynnah samla, u Narendranath, u long u babha briew ha ka dur ka dar, ka rynïeng rynñiot, ka sur ba sngewthiang bad u don ka jabieng ba proh. Haba u dang pule ha College, u ju sngewtynnad ban pule ia ki rukom pyrkhat ki nongsepngi. Kane ka la pynlong ïa u ba un long u ba da tohkit bniah bha ïa kiei kiei baroh; bad ban pynshongñia ïaki katkum ki daw ba paw shabar. Hapoh ka mynsiem jong u, kine kiei kiei ki ju ïai khih kynting kum ki dew jong ka duriaw. U ju ïalang bad bun ki riewsaid niam ban pynshisha ïa ka jingdon jong u Blei. Hynrei kane kam pynhun eiei ïa ka mynsiem ba thrang jong u. Kita ki jingiasaid, jingtohkit jong u kim lah ban pynshai ïa u ba “U Blei u long aiu?” Khatduh, u la kynmaw ïa ki ktien jong uwei u nonghikai jong u, u Profesor William Hastie, ba don uwei u Riewkhuid ha shnong Dakshineswar, harud nong ka sor Calcutta. Ha ka snem 1881, U bakha jong u, u Rama Chandra Datta u la pynshlur ïa u Narendranath ban leit ïakynduh ïa une u Riewkhuid, uta u dei u Sri Ramakrishna. Haba u Narendranath u la ïakynduh, u la kylli, “Kynrad, phi la ju ïohi ïa u Blei?” U Sri Ramakrishna u la jubab, “Haoid, Nga la ïohi ïa u kumjuh kumba nga iohi ïa phi mynta, hynrei tang ba kham shynna. ” Ki jingartatien jong u Narendranath mynta baroh ki la jah noh. U la pynkhreh ïalade ban long noh u nongbud jong u Sri Ramakrishna.
Haba u Narendranath u la long u nogbud nongsynran ïa u Sri Ramakrishna, u Sri Ramkrishna u la tynjuh bunsien ïaki jingmut jingpyrkhat u Narendranath. Kumjuh ruh u Narendranath u ju tynjuh ïa ka bor mynsiem u kynrad jong u. Suki-suki u Narendranath u la aiti lut met bad mynsiem ha la u Kynrad. U Sri Ramakrishna u la pynthanda jai ïa ka mynsiem ba phaloh jong u nongbud ba khynnah jong u. U la ïalam na ka jingartatien sha ka jingshisha. Nalor kine kiei kiei baroh kiba u Ramakrishna u la leh na ka bynta u Narendranath; hynrei dei ka jingieit jong u Kynrad kaba la lah ban jop ïa u Narendranath bad ma u ruh kumjuh u la siew kylliang da ka jingieit.

Yn dang bteng