The place where there is neither respect, nor income, or relatives
nor earning of any knowledge, leave that place.
na ca vidyāgamaḥ kaśhcittaṃ deśhaṃ parivarjayet ॥
yasmindeshe na sammAno na vRittirna cha bAndhavaH .
na cha vidyAgamaH kashchittam desham parivarjayet ..
यस्मिन्देशे न संमानो न वृत्तिर्न च बान्धवः ।
न च विद्यागमः कश्चित्तं देशं परिवर्जयेत् ॥
This is said in the Hitopadeśha, when Hiraṇyaka wanted to leave his place and go with his friend, the crow, who was planning to move to a larger lake. In this connection, Hiraṇyaka recites three śhlokas about where one should or should not live. The first one is this.
From a practical standpoint, why do we live in or move to a certain place?
Either we were born there, and our family has been living there for generations. There are people who haven’t left their village for nineteen generations, having lived and died in the same place that was founded when their great-great-great-great-grandfather, nineteen generations ago, stopped there to rest and found it worth settling in! And now, after nineteen generations, it has grown into a small village with its own zip code.
Family keeps us in a place. There are students—or, more accurately, the parents of such students—who decide which college to attend based on its proximity to home rather than solely on its academic merit.
Or, we may move to a place for education. Oh boy, is that news! The majority of youth immigrants in the US are students. Indian students are going to Australia, even in the face of racial attacks, simply because if a US visa isn’t possible, then an Australian one will do. Got to get that degree!
If not for education, then surely for livelihood—a better job moves people across the globe. The US immigration and work permit system is a great example of this. People from all over the world come to the US in search of a better job and to make their dreams come true.
And sometimes, family has passed away or moved away, the job is lost, and there is no further scope for studying, and yet we continue to stay. Why? Because everyone around adores us, loves us, or respects us. So we keep plodding along, even though there is nothing else left for us there.
But if you have none of these four—respect, livelihood, family, or knowledge—then why stay? It’s better to move on!
In the next posts, we will explore other criteria for deciding where to live and where not to.
And now the language aspects of the shloka -
yasmindeshe na sammAno na vRittirna cha bAndhavaH |
na cha vidyAgamaH kashchittam desham parivarjayet ||
breakup:
yasmin deshe, na sammAnaH, na vRittiH, na cha bAndhavaH
na cha vidyA AgamaH kashchit, tam desham parivarjayet
yaH = that which
yasmin = in that which
deshaH = region, place (nation is rAShTra, not desha)
deshe = in region/place
na = not
sammAno = sammAnaH = samyak + mAnaH
= samyak = complete, whole
mAnaH = respect
na = not
vRittiH = livelihood
na = not
cha = and
bAndhavaH = relatives
na = not
cha = and
vidyAgamaH = vidyA + AgamaH
vidyA = knowledge
AgamaH = inflow, coming in
kashchit = any, some
tam = (to) that
deshaM = (to) region/place
parivarjayet = leave, abandon
(c) Shashikant Joshi । शशिकांत जोशी । ॐ सर्वे भवन्तु सुखिनः ।
I had a version where Vruti was replaced by Pritihi and ended with na Tatra divasam vaseth.
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