Batao Kahaan Milega Shyaam
“Charan Paduka Le Kar Sabse Poochh Rahein RasKhan”
‘Syed Ibrahim Khan was the son of a rich landowner. He lived in present-day Uttar Pradesh and spent his youth in luxury. Historians have varied opinions about his year of birth and even his birthplace.
There’s however an interesting legend linked with this name that is rather popular in North India. It is said that Ibrahim once visited a paan shop owned by a Hindu. Upon entering the shop his eyes fell on a painting that intrigued him. The painting featured a beautiful little boy standing barefoot on rough ground. Surprised and concerned about the boy in the painting hurting his feet by walking on the rocky ground, Ibrahim asked the shop owner, “Why doesn’t the kid have shoes?”
“Buy him a pair if you care”, the shop owner replied. The kind-hearted Syed was perplexed but also disturbed by the apparent lack of resources the painting -boy was dealing with. Ibrahim’s anxiety about the kid hurting his feet only kept increasing and ultimately, he visited the same paan shop the next day and brought a little pair of shoes with him to gift ‘the kid’.
In a rather ignorant manner, the shop owner said “You won’t find him here, ask someone else his whereabouts.”
Khan was even more perplexed and even annoyed maybe. However, he wouldn’t drop the matter and went out on the street looking for the boy and asking each passerby if they knew him. After a point out of exhaustion and frustration when he was just about to collapse, he found a person as if out of divine intervention who said, “Well I know who that boy is”, words he wanted to hear the most for a very long time.
“He lives in Vrindavan, goes by Banke Bihari”, said this benevolent passerby. Ibrahim was at once on his foot walking towards Vrindavan.
In his state of utter desperation to help, his logical senses stopped functioning. He didn’t even know how far was Vrindavan or even which was the way. He just knew his purpose and without paying heed to any difficulties he started an incredibly difficult journey, carrying two little shoes on his head.
After many troubles and torments on his body that barely sweated ever, he was standing in front of the Banke Bihari Mandir in Vrindavan. He had lost all coherence by then and simply broke down when the priests didn’t let him enter the supposed dwelling place of the child he cared for so deeply.
Even when he was insulted by his identity and was called slurs, he refused to leave the stairs of the temple. He knew in his heart his Shyaam would come out of the doors sometime, that he never let his loved ones down.
Day turned into night. Ibrahim would not leave his madness. And when the dawn broke something happened.
He found his Shyaam, a little boy with a smile that pierced souls, sitting near his feet. Ibrahim burst into tears and in an explosion of paternal affection toward the kid, he embraced the child, who was no less than his own child to him. Suddenly his eyes fell on the wounded and bloody feet of the child. His heart broke into a million pieces and in one moment his newfound joy turned into an ocean of sorrow.
Shyaam simply smiled and said, “You wanted me as a kid in your arms and I reside as a child in Gokul and not in Vrindavan. I walked all the way from Gokul to Vrindavan to meet you and feel your love. Put these shoes on my feet now so that I receive all the joy that is there in the three realms. Today onwards let your name be RasKhan.”
Since then, RasKhan started writing poems in praise of Krishna and lived in Vrindavan till he breathed his last.
But what do we take away from this legend? That steadfast devotion is what facilitates the union between God and humans? Or that the Almighty manifests itself in the form the devotee pictured it in? While these two are surely two very important underlying themes of this legend, somewhere I feel there’s an angle to this legend that deserves more attention than what it is given.
RasKhan wasn’t exactly a devotee in the beginning, was he? His story begins with him not knowing who the kid in the painting or Banke Bihari or Shyaam is. All he knew at that point was there was a kid who might hurt his feet if he walked barefoot. The humanity that was well grounded in RasKhan’s soul urged him to do something about this situation and not rest until he could help.
Temple deities have a history of rich people donating thousands to them. However, RasKhan’s legend cannot be more different. In the context of today’s India and the world at large, I feel RasKhan’s legend should be talked about more and applauded for the right takeaways. It is nothing other than a functioning moral compass that tells humans which is the right direction that’d lead to God.
“…मानुष हौं तो वही रसखानि बसौं ब्रज गोकुल गाँव के ग्वारन।
जौ पसु हौं तो कहा बस मेरो चरौं नित नंद की धेनु मँझारन॥
पाहन हौं तो वही गिरि को जो कियो हरिछत्र पुरंदर धारन।
जौ खग हौं तो बसेरो करौं मिलि कालिंदी कूल कदंब की डारन।…”
The above verses describe RasKhan’s love for Braj and how he’d want to be reborn in Braj in every birth he undertakes.
