Aryans of Bharat Varsha in Finland, Sweden And Norway 5,005 BCE Selected extracts from Return of the Aryans by Bhagwan S. Gidwani, published by Penguin Books, India, ISBN 0-14- 024053 5 (Main Reference: Main Reference: page 845 to page 852 from Return of the Aryans)
5005 BC
These Aryans of Bharat Varsha care not what gods we believe in. But goodness they believe in. And do not call yourself Aryan until you learn to treat the weak, old, infirm and helpless, in the Aryan way, with all assistance, grace and nobility. -Priest Ugera of Finland.
Are we to learn nothing from these noble Aryan messengers whom God sent over mountains, seas and rivers to speak to us of their traditions of honor?- asked Priest Ugera of Finland. But even the Aryans protested. Do not impose this arrogance on us. No man has the right to call himself a messenger of God.
The flotilla, carrying the contingent of the Aryans of Bharat Varsha, led by Dhrupattas grandsons, Atul and Atal, sailed through the Caspian Sea to reach Europes largest river, presently known as the Volga. The Aryans called this the Ra Ra river. Sailing up the Volga, the Aryan flotilla reached its confluence with river Kama.
Two more Aryan boats capsized at the confluence of the Ra Ra (Volga) and the river they called Omtar (now known as Oka). A coherent account of where they stopped and what mishaps and adventures they met with on the way in the Russian lands would take months to relate. But it was near the source of the Ra that they finally left their boats and went trudging on foot, until they reached the southern part of the country now known as Finland.
The initial enthusiasm of the Aryans had disappeared. Their experience at each stopping place had given them the frightful feeling that the Land of Pure, for which they set out, was nowhere within their reach.
They had seen their ships scatter and their men drown. The song Noble Aryans, onward on, which always inspired them before, was still on their lips but was now an empty, ritual murmur that no longer came from the heart.
It had taken them four years to reach Finland and there were only 1,220 left out of the 6,080 that had left Iran. Their hope was that atleast a few left behind them in the Caspian sea were unharmed and had found a safe haven somewhere.
The Aryans set up their camp in Finland. Harsh reality had taught them on the way that their first imperative was to defend themselves. They built protective fences around the land they farmed and tried to live in seclusion from the others.
But the locals came, one after another, and then in batches. They were all old men and women, often hungry, starving, ill, distressed and dying.
There was a language barrier and so the Aryans could only wonder whether these old people were hermits uprooted by sudden storms or animal attacks. Or whether they were simply exiles.
The system, they later found out, was simple. Every old person, unable to work, had to leave his group and fend for himself. But how can you have such a heartless system, asked the Aryans. It is not heartless, they were told. We did it to our fathers; and they, to theirs; how can the tribe flourish or even survive, unless it casts off its useless burden of old people? The old can neither march nor hunt but will only tie down the younger, productive members. Indeed, there were tribes in the remote past which carried young and old alike but those tribes withered away.
And the helpless ones must leave? the Aryans asked.
Children are the really helpless ones, they said. They are loved, cherished, protected, for they are the future promise. What promise does old age hold? Dont you people retire?
We do, the Aryans replied. Then we become hermits and pray and meditate.
We can do that too, if we want.
But the Aryans explained that it was everyones duty to help, if a hermit was unable to fend for himself.
Even if he is not of your tribe? they asked.
A hermit belongs to all the tribes, the Aryans replied.
Do animals, fish and birds rush over to you to be eaten?
No, our land gives us what we eat.
Your land, then, must be rich? the old people said.
Land is always rich. Everywhere.
Clearly, these refugees saw that it was so, at least in the sprawling Aryan camp. There were neat rows of plants; even cattle there was not for slaughter but for milk and breeding and fowl for eggs.
The refugees wanted to move after their immediate distress was over; they were a proud people and sought no extended hospitality or charity from the Aryans. As it is they had left their tribes on their own, when they realized that their useful days were over. Nobody had to tell them to leave.
But the Aryans insisted that these refugees remain. You can help us, they said, to learn your language, farm more land, milk cattle, domesticate fowl.
These were tasks the old could do as well as the youth and so the refugees stayed. The youngsters in their tribes may have been proficient in stone-throwing to kill animals or marching endlessly to hunt, but in this job involving the tender, patient care of land, cattle and fowl perhaps old age was an advantage. They discovered new vitality while doing a useful job. The Aryans also had the same feeling as Sakaru did about his Saka tribe (Scythians), that it was the all-meat diet of these people which made them prematurely old and unhealthy.
Word went round that the old were welcome at the camp of these strange Aryans. The old people came in droves. But they were a proud people. They wanted work and not a hand-out; each one worked to the best of his or her ability. Often food would be in short supply when too many came. But they would never steal, nor take anything that did not belong to them. If they found eggs, they would bring them to the camp; if they caught a fowl, that too would be brought to the camp. This was now their very own tribe. They belonged.
The Aryans did not know it but these old people were their best protection. Word had traveled that these strangers offered refuge to their old and infirm. Sometimes, a group brought their old to leave them at the Aryan camp. The system itself may have decreed the abandonment of the old as useless, but it is not as if every bond of affection was snapped at parting. Every time an old man left, there was silent sorrow, even though much remained unsaid. And when the tribes learnt that there was a group that gave shelter, food, comfort and even good health to their old fathers, mothers and grandmothers, their hearts went out to the Aryans.
Initially, the locals suspected the motives of the Aryans and came to check on them. But they found around their old people, not the curtain of isolation, but of respect and dignity.
Who could then attack the Aryans! Word even went forth that an attack against the Aryans would be treated as an attack against themselves. The old people, sheltering with the Aryans, said they would die rather than allow an Aryans to be harmed.
Tribal warfare was common in the land. But never would their sense of honour permit the locals to steal from another. They had to kill or enslave the other tribe before they took their goods by right of conquest. Thus the Aryan tools and implements which the locals envied, and even their surplus food lying all over the extensive Aryans lands, remained untouched.
But something more dramatic happened. Slowly, the locals realized what the Aryans were doing. They too began to progress from their existence as hunters and fishermen to a more settled life as agriculturists.
Some old refugees, sheltered by the Aryans, felt refreshed and renewed and even wanted to visit their tribes to show them how to make implements and tools and how to make their land productive. Atul said to them, But come back! We shall be lonely without you. And the hearts of these old men warmed all the more, with the sense of belonging.
When these old refugees reached their tribes, their own people wondered They left us old but they return young! For, there was a new tone of authority in these old people. What will self-respect not do!
And the old came back to the Aryans, bringing their youngsters to learn how to set up fields and farms. An old man once brought his entire tribe along with the tribal priest Ugera to the Aryans to learn farming.
Atul told Priest Ugera of many of their adventures and delays on the way from Bharat Varsha and Iran.
Priest Ugera said, Our people should have learnt these arts of farming much earlier, but the Devil kept your people away from us.
Atul, who was in artist, stood on the pedestal of the statue on which he was working, and looking at his reflection in the water said, The Devil exists as much as my reflection in water.
This observation of Atul remains firmly in the traditional memory of Finland even today, but with a different meaning. Priest Ugera himself inspired the myth that God stood up on top of a statue and ordered his reflection in the water to rise and this became the Devil!
But Ugera was not at fault since that was how, initially, he had understood Atuls observation. From the other Aryans he had learnt of dualism of good against evil. Was it any different from God and Devil. And when the Aryans spoke of God giving man the ability to scatter seed and make the earth fruitful and smiling, was it not a defeat of the Devil and the unmasking of his deceit! But why did God bring forth the Devil? Was it because growth was not possible without challenge?
To begin with, it confused Priest Ugera that every Aryans he talked to gave him different conception of God. But then that was the Hindu way. Each was entitled to his own view of the Ultimate Reality without disrespect to the views of others. But later Ugera understood that all these stories were the many stories of God and it was folly to attach oneself to a single view or dogma.
Priest Ugera was even more fascinated by the stories of Shiva Lingum (phallic symbol), and for his people he evolved a conception of god of the sky (Skaj, the creator and birth-giver, and also Niskepas, the great inseminating god who is all knowing and all seeing and can grant great and gracious boons, but approach him not lightly for what is trivial.).
The Priest had a long mud pillar made, representing it as a symbol of Shiva Lingum and the world order. The Aryans smiled, for in their own land they had not seen such a tall representation of the Shiva Lingum. But later, when the top mud portion fell off and Priest Ugera was sad, they all pitched in to make baked bricks and Ugeras joy knew no bounds as the tall pillar once again rose to a commanding height.
Priest Ugeras affection for the Aryans grew, but not because of their success in tapping wealth from the earth. He was fascinated by their myths and moral values; and he even wondered if this success arose as a result of the Aryans spiritual outlook. But Atal laughed, A plant will grow whether it be a saint like you or a sinner like my brother Atul, who plants the seed. Atal always lovingly called his brother Atul, a sinner as he devoted all his time not to caring for the land, but to his painting and sculpting.
Ugera wanted his people to learn from the spiritual values of the Aryans. But initially the impact on his people was more social than spiritual. When the tribes which settled in the vicinity of the Aryans lands wanted to call themselves Aryans, Ugera emphatically said, No. You have not earned that privilege. They protested, The Aryans honour our gods and they do not ask that we must honour their gods.
But Ugera replied, They care not what gods we believe in. But goodness they believe in. And do not call yourself Aryan until you learn to treat your old and infirm the Aryans way.
Priest Ugeras words began to be heeded, even in the lands beyond, now known as Scandinavia. He was their most renowned priest and poet. For him, as a priest, there was no threat of exile in old age; yet he spoke with fire and sang with passion. His words went to the heart of his people and he said God gave some of our people long life but you condemn your old to isolation and slow death. Are we to learn nothing from these noble Aryan messengers whom God sent over mountains, seas and rivers to speak to us of their traditions of honour?
Even the Aryans protested. Do not impose this arrogance on us. No man has the right to call himself a messenger of God.
But Ugera said, God sends a message, though the messenger himself may be unaware that he carries Gods message. Did you not tell me that the song of the Jatayu birds guided the Hindu Tribes to your Sindhu river? I am sure God sent the Jatayu birds; but did the Jatayu know why he was sent?
Opinion may have remained divided about the extent of the Jatayus knowledge of the message; but among Priest Ugeras people, slowly and surely, the system moved to respect old age and it became a point of honour with the tribes to keep their old and infirm until their dying day with respect and dignity.
Priest Ugeras words, inspired by the Aryans, still remain in the traditional memory of Scandinavia in their attention to the aged and the retired.
Priest Ugera called the Aryans and th locals who clustered round them the Moksa (moksha) people. He explained the Aryans belief in `moksha` to say that they all would be gods, as their right `karma` would free them from the bonds of birth and rebirth and their souls would merge with the soul of God, as One without the Second. Till today, this pre-ancient Aryans belief of Moksha people continues to influence the tradition of the Finno-Ugric people who inhabit the regions of Scandinavia, Siberia, the Baltic areas and Central Europe.
New religions with monolithic superstructures and firm beliefs in inflexible dogmas have entered these places but even so, they cannot altogether displace the traditional belief in the moksha people which still holds sway to an extent in these regions.
The emptiness at the core of the Aryan hearts remained. The realization grew that the whisper of their dream, to seek out the Land of the Pure, was based on fantasy. There was slavery, injustice, misery and tears all around; and if they were able to reach out and touch a few hearts, it was simply a drop in the vast ocean.
Many Aryans, led by Priest Ugera, spent two years in neighbouring countries, now known as Sweden and Norway. The situation there was no different.
Their desolation was all the greater as there was no possibility of going back the same way. Their boats, in a terrible state, were abandoned near the source of Ra Ra River (Volga). Nor did time erase their memory of the terror of the Caspian Sea.
Yet they had no intention of remaining in the Land of Ugera (Finland). A new dream had formed in their mind to search no more, but go back to their homeland of Bharat Varsha
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