Compressed Power

                        “Much wisdom often goes with brevity of speech.”
   -- Sophocles

One of the essential attributes of the aphorism is brevity. The seer-poet must possess the ability to compress his wisdom into the fewest and most telling words possible. Adjectives most commonly used to describe aphorisms are “pithy”, “succinct”, “terse”, “concise”, “curt” and “telling”.
            This requirement of brevity – one might even say extreme brevity – poses an enormous challenge for writers. After all, writers communicate through the medium of language, through words on a page, not blank space. Most writers would chafe under the severe restrictions imposed by the conventions of aphorism.
            Sri Chinmoy does not. If anything, he is more at home with silence than with sound, and so the words that issue from this silence tend to be spare – fragments of a vision too tremendous to be verbalised at great length. His aphorisms can number as few as four words, though most fall between ten and fifteen. Set out as poems on a page, they generally run from two to four short lines, rarely longer. Visually, they may be taken in by the reader at a single glance. This, in itself, is an important aspect of Sri Chinmoy’s aphorisms and a key factor in rendering them memorable.
            Again, the ability to telescope truths and realisations into a handful of inspired words demands a heightened sensitivity on the part of the poet towards language, for it is only to be expected that the wisest thoughts, when expressed in a pedestrian way, lack the fundamental power to move us. Of course, it may also be argued that truth and the inspired word find each other as a matter of course, that this very lack of struggle with language is one of the hallmarks of a true seer-poet. And, indeed, in every era and from every culture, it may be noted that true works of wisdom engage us; there is a sense that the right word has been found to express the vast dimensions of the seer-poet’s vision.
            Even when meaning and sound coalesce into a creation that seems perfect and whole, however, Sri Chinmoy reminds us that the expression always falls short of the realisation:
                       
                        Words fail;
                        Silence prevails.

This four-word aphorism succeeds because of its compressed power. Everything about it is controlled, deliberate and precise. The poet is in full control of language, selecting only two nouns and two verbs for his purpose. He needs neither adjectives nor articles. Even the two halves of the couplet may be seen as self-sufficient. They do not depend on each other, or on anything external to the poem. But, taken together, they can be seen as complementary aspects of the poet’s vision.
            In fact, each bare statement of fact approaches the level of oxymoron because of the contradiction embedded in it. It is expected, for instance, that words bridge the gulf between individuals, while silence only serves to prolong and magnify misunderstandings. Sri Chinmoy takes the diametrically opposite view. According to him, it is words that fail to communicate. Interestingly, the word “prevail” suggests that silence is ever-present, that words arise from it and return to it. It is the source of all expression.
            The poet is absolute in each of his statements. There is no hesitation in the poem, no qualification, no philosophical dithering or stuttering – in effect, no weakness. And yet, the poem does not strike us as unnaturally foreshortened. The poet has expressed himself fully and also poetically. The linking of each idea by means of rhyme, the parallel structure of the two halves of the couplet, the juxtaposition of opposites – all reflect a basic premiss of aphorisms: that brevity comes from precision, precision of ideas and linguistic precision.
One of Sri Chinmoy’s five-word aphorisms is the following:
           
                        Enlightenment comes
                        From self-effacement.

Once again, the poet has omitted all articles, adjectives, adverbs – anything that would limit or somehow qualify his assertion. He uses internal rhyme to strengthen the ties between “enlightenment” and “self-effacement”, so that he creates a patterning not only of sounds but of ideas.
            As with the previous example, the simplicity of this aphorism is deceptive. If once we start to attempt an explanation of it, or add our own embellishment, we realise that the meaning of the poem eludes our easy capture. We penetrate one level of meaning only to find that another unfolds before us. It is a kind of deepening meditation. The more we immerse ourselves in the meaning of the aphorism, the more we examine the nature of self-effacement, the more we feel compelled to enact it in our own lives, as it were. So aphorisms of this kind have a unique actualising power. It is not enough to read them on a mental or literary level. In order to fully understand them, they must be lived.
            This is perhaps a precondition of all seer-poetry. Ultimately, its meaning is fully accessible only to the aspirant who is prepared to let the poem resonate in the depths of his being. Sri Chinmoy has made this process as simple as possible for his readers, especially when we reflect that many of the ancient texts of wisdom literature withheld their hidden knowledge from the vast majority of readers. Moreover, we have the added advantage of being able to read Sri Chinmoy’s words directly and not in translation from ancient Sanskrit or Chinese. They are aphorisms for the modern ear, even though their wisdom is age-old. 
            A very important function of the aphorism is to identify, define and delineate. This hearkens back to the roots of the word. The process of defining is not merely a dictionary exercise. The seer-poet has to define our human experiences and feelings in such a way as to cast new light on them. In one example, Sri Chinmoy writes:

                        Disappointment
                           Is
                        An energy-robber.

Here he proposes that the vivid and dramatic compound noun “energy-robber” can be interchanged with “disappointment”. How much more effective and immediate is Sri Chinmoy’s expression than the lame alternative, “Disappointment robs our energy.” In his version, the robber has intruded himself on the scene and suddenly the threat has become tangible and imminent. This kind of metonymy not only enlarges our understanding of the meaning of disappointment, but makes us conscious of the need for a shift in our own state of being. By personifying disappointment, Sri Chinmoy has somehow made it loom large in our imaginations as something to be barred or cast out, as we would do with an ordinary robber.
            Another example of aphorisms that define abstract qualities or states is this philosophical reflection:

                        An unsolved problem
                        Is nothing other than
                        A revolving door.

Here again, the poet uses internal rhymes to give his concept an almost incantatory power. “Unsolved” merges in “revolving”, and then turns on itself, as if the door were revolving before us. It is a uniquely modern image, but one which encapsulates all the frustration and helplessness attendant upon lingering problems.
            In Orhan Parmuk’s novel, “The Black Book”, one of the characters says, “Do not speak in epigraphs – it kills the mystery of the thing.” Some might make a similar case against aphorisms. By condensing the rich tapestry of life into one or two sentences, could we not also say that seer-poets kill the very mystery of human existence? By distilling personal life experiences into universal statements and conclusions, do they not somehow codify our lives and render them uniform?
            Surely it entirely depends on what one wants to derive from literature. One poet, let us take Rabindranath Tagore, might compose an exquisite and enchanting portrait of the boatman waiting at twilight to ferry his passenger to the other side. He might recreate the very fragrance of the evening, the haunting song the boatman sings, the fulsomeness of nature’s response.
            Sri Chinmoy, on the other hand, will simply prefer to say:

                        For each and every seeker,
                        The Destination is the same:
                        The Golden Shore of the Beyond.

The journey is implicit; the details of the journey bear no consequence. For Sri Chinmoy, the only important thing is the seeker’s attainment of his ultimate goal, which he has articulated in the sublimely poetic phrase “The Golden Shore of the Beyond.”
            Has the mystery disappeared from our quest because the poet has given it a name? I would say, rather, that the poet deepens the mystery by directing our focus away from outer details and circumstances to the central core of the mystery – the very purpose of life’s journey.
            Descriptive poems, replete with images and atmosphere, wind themselves around a truth and often create an aura of knowing, of wisdom. Aphorisms, on the other hand, capture the quintessence of truth in a few poetic words. Because of their brevity, they force our wandering minds to focus with greater intensity on universal truths and they make us conscious of the immense forces that lie behind the surface reality of life. In addition, as a seer-poet, Sri Chinmoy imbues this wideness of understanding with a beauty of expression that is uniquely his own.