Pradip Bhattacharya

Indologist, Mahabharata scholar

BOOK REVIEWS

Innovations in the Oriya Mahabharata

By

B.N. Patnaik: Introducing Saaralaa Mahaabhaarata, CIIL, Mysore, pp.227, Rs.370/-
B.N. Patnaik: Retelling as Interpretation, Jadavpur University, Kolkata, pp.123, 2013, Rs. 100/-

A.K. Ramanujam’s famous statement about “300 Ramayanas” applies to the Mahabharata (MB) as well. Following the Muslim invasion, in every region in the country both maha-kavyas came to be retold in the local language. In some cases, as in Bengal, the new Muslim ruler patronised their production. Language has remained a barrier in the dissemination of the local variations and innovations introduced into the epic narrative. Thanks to Dr B.N. Patnaik, we can now access the innovations of Orissa’s first poet, Sarala Das (pronounced “Saaralaa”) of the 15th century. Patnaik introduces the signal features of Sarala in five chapters, analysing his characterisation, themes and the turns and twists in the plot. The second book contains proceedings of a colloquium held by the Department of Comparative Literature of Jadavpur University consisting of Patnaik’s overview of Sarala, comments on it by three scholars and his response.

Sarala Das states that he was Vyasa in an earlier birth and the goddess Saaralaa inspired him to tell the MB tale that, anachronistically, the sage Agasti (Agastya) had narrated to Vaivasvat Manu. Sarala asserted that this was the Vishnu Purana, listening to which ensures moksha. This choice of Agastya as the creator of the tale indicates a connection with southern India. Several of Sarala’s tales occur in Telegu and other southern language MBs. A shared tradition appears to have existed running along the eastern coast from Tamil Nadu through Andhra, Orissa and Bengal up to Assam. Sarala claims that he was Nandikeswara, the watchman at Shiva’s residence at Kapilash (in Orissa), cursed by Ganesha to take human birth and celebrate Vishnu. He was Kalidasa earlier, then Mahakali and this was his third birth after which he would return to Kapilash. Aimed at the illiterate Oriya audience, Sarala’s version is devoid of philosophical discourses. His way to salvation is through the grace of Narayana.

Sarala’s narrative is about the play of Krishna, who is behind every signal event beginning from the winning of Draupadi till the death of Duryodhana and beyond that to save Yudhishthir from Gandhari and Bheem from Dhritarashtra. Sarala’s Krishna makes frenzied love to an old attendant of Radha who is wearing her dress. Their son becomes a thief trained by Krishna to dig a tunnel by which he can reach underneath Radha’s bed. He also digs the tunnel for the Pandavas’ escape from the lac house. Sarala’s Krishna is devoid of scruples. Thus, he asks Ghatotkacha to remain behind Arjun’s chariot and when Karna shoots the infallible missile, he merely moves the chariot so that it kills the unarmed Ghatotkacha. This also fulfils Draupadi’s curse on Hidimbika that her son would die an inglorious death. Krishna even holds a donkey’s feet while entering Jarasandha’s fortress so that it does not betray his arrival! Instead of reciting the Gita, Krishna asks Yudhishthira to act when Arjun is unwilling to fight.

Ganga marries Shantanu (whom Sarala turns into a great Shaiva yogi) believing him to be Shiva. Discovering her mistake, she strives to provoke him into insulting her so that she can desert him. Denying him coitus when he is desperate for it on two occasions leads to his ejaculating on a woman’s portrait whence Chitravirya and Vichitravirya are born. Ganga curses him with death at the hands of her new-born son Bhishma. She also curses his two earlier sons to die issueless, whom Shantanu had hidden away with Parashara’s wife Satyavati because Ganga had cut their first son into two! Shantanu crowns Pandu king and vanishes after he abdicates in favour of Dhritarashtra. This is a telling instance of how Vyasa’s classical image of a river goddess drowning her children by a mortal (as Thetis did too in Greek myth) is turned into a horror story by a later poet.

Sarala creates a love-story around Amba and Bhishma who demands that Amba’s father should marry her to him since her elder sisters had married his elder brothers Chitravirya and Vichitravirya. They are all born of Ganga. Then Shantanu tells him of Ganga’s curse that he would be killed by Bhishma’s son. Therefore, he vows not to marry. When Amba’s father leaves her with him, Pareswara (sage Parashara, Satyavati’s husband) suggests he have intercourse with her but control himself so as not to impregnate her. Bhishma refuses. Then drives her away, afraid of her beauty. She drowns herself.

Duryodhan starves to death his maternal grandfather with his sons to take revenge. They had married Gandhari to a tree first, which died as foretold. Thus, Dhritarashtra married to a widow, which humiliated Duryodhan severely. Shakuni survived and made dice from his father’s bones to destroy the Kauravs by provoking the Pandavs excessively. How Shakuni was spared is explained through a unique tale, typically folk in flavour, about Duryodhan’s smile while urinating. This story of Shakuni’s revenge travelled from the south to Orissa and Bengal. Sarala regards Shakuni as more sinned against than sinning, giving him considerable space to voice his remorse while facing Sahadev and places him after death among the stars along with Bhishma, Drona and Shalya.

Sarala’s Hidimbaki considers Draupadi’s polyandry impure and tells her son Ghatotkacha not to bow to her. Thereupon Draupadi curses him with an inglorious death and, in turn, Hidimbaki curses her to lose her sons. Duryodhan is Pannaga (snake) Narayana reborn and anyone to whom he does namaskar will be burnt to ashes. Hence, he does not salute Balarama who, insulted, blesses the Pandavas instead. Balarama is an avatar of Shiva with snake-hoods, and Brahma becomes Subhadra. After Krishna’s death, Arjun fights Jara till a skyey voice tells him that he was Sugriv earlier and Jara was Angad, his son (not Vali’s). Arjun is the Shrivatsa sign on Vishnu’s breast and was also Prahlada and Bharata. How he could simultaneously be Bharata and Sugriva remains a puzzle.

Sarala has Kunti make her sons touch Karna’s feet as their elder. Before the war Yudhishthir pranams him and Karna blesses him with victory. So the Pandavas know all along that Karna is their eldest brother. Kunti condemns Arjun as a sinner for killing his eldest brother. Kunti’s sons are called Pandava having slain the demon Pandavasura, not because they were sons of Pandu. Krishna warns the Kauravs with the story of Babarapuri kingdom whose people destroyed themselves. Patnaik does not perceive Sarala’s use of irony here, because the description of these people tallies with those of Dvaraka, whose end will be similar. When Arjun is unwilling to start the battle, instead of the Gita, Sarala has Yudhishthir beg Duryodhan for just a single village in vain. When one of the Dhartarashtras, Durdasa, goes over to Yudhishthir’s side, the others attack them. Informed of this by Krishna, Arjun finally decides to join the fray. Yudhishthir proposes a duel between the hundred Dhartarashtras and the five Kaunteyas, to avoid slaughter of armies, but Duryodhan refuses.

Sarala creates a horrendous scene in which Duryodhan tries to cross a river of blood by floating on the corpses of Duhshasan, Karna, Drona, Shakuni and his other brothers, each of which sinks under him. Finally, one body ferries him across. He finds that it is that of his son Lakshman. Before the war, Krishna wished to give him part of the kingdom after the war, but Lakshman only prayed for moksha, as his mother Bhanumati had taught him. When Ashvatthama brings Duryodhan the severed heads of the Pandava sons, Duryodhan severely rebukes him for destroying the lineage and dies clutching the heads to his breast. The same scene occurs in the 16th century Bengali MB of Kashiram Das.

The Oriya and the Bengali retellings also have in common the story of the miraculous mango of truth and Draupadi’s confession of her innermost desire. In Kashiram Das her secret desire is for Karna, while in Sarala the secret is that Arjun is her favourite. However, in Surendra Mohanty’s translation of this episode her secret desire is for Karna. In the 14th century Tamil MB by Villi, the fruit is a myrobalan and in the Kannada by Kumara Vyasa (15th century, the same time as Sarala) it is a rose-apple.

It is interesting to see how Sarala localises the epic tale. The mother of Puru is a nameless “Oriaani” (Oriya lady). Arjun meets Shiva at Kapilasa (near Dhenkanal) with Parvati de-lousing his hair! Parvati cooks a variety of Oriya sweets for Shiva. Duryodhan’s wife Bhanumati warns him not to heed Shakuni and as an example narrates an Oriya folk tale about the ghost Babanaa. She urges him to share the kingdom with the Pandavas. Shakuni tells Yudhishthira the folk tale of woodcutters Melaka and Ananta. Yudhishthir marries Suhani, daughter of Hari Sahu, a trader, in village Dharmapur near Jajpur and lives there for 35 years. Arjun defeats Yama and his attendants when they come to take Suhani at the wedding. Hari Sahu is the first to hear the MB from one of its participants, Sahadev. The Pandavas visit Emkambar tirtha (Bhubaneshwar) and Nilachala (Puri) to see the wooden divinity, as also Konark.

Draupadi and Kunti launch into laments and blistering tirades against the Pandavas and Krishna for not killing Duhshasan and Duryodhan, threatening to commit suicide unless they are killed. When Draupadi has dressed her hair with Duhshasan’s blood, she asks Bheem to spend the night with her. Krishna advises him to pray to her humbly, after satisfying her, to spare the Pandavas and Krishna. Draupadi responds that she would spare Yudhishthir alone. Patnaik finds a possible explanation for this in Krishna telling Gandhari that Yudhishthir cannot die because dharma must be preserved. Draupadi is Ketuka, born of Adi Saraswati’s rage, to kill the fifteenth Sudraka Brahma (Duhshasan) and drink his blood. This destructive aspect of hers is worshipped in the Tamil cult of Draupadi as the Veera Shakti. After the war, Sarala invents a very interesting debate between Kunti, Draupadi, Subhadra, Yudhishthir, Bheem and Arjun each claiming to be the agent of the Kaurav destruction. Bheem’s son Belalasena (his grandson Barbareek in the Puranas), whom Krishna beheaded before the war with the boon that his head would witness it, tells them that it was the discus that slew all. Enraged, Bheem slaps the head, which falls lifeless and its life is absorbed by Krishna. Another invincible warrior Krishna beheaded in advance (lest he join Duryodhan) was Jara’s father Kiratasen, ruler of Kishkindha, granting his head the boon to watch the war from atop his chariot Nandighosh. Sarala makes a great event out of the killing of Karna. As Arjuna cuts off his head, another emerges! It is Sahadev who advises how to Karna can be killed.

Sarala has Agastya sanction that Kunti beget sons by gods, so that their inheritance is beyond question. Durvasa neutralises his mantra when Madri invokes Narayana to have a son by him to outdo Kunti’s sons. Sahadev is born when Pandu has coition with Madri and both die from a skyey arrow. At Surya’s behest, Ashvinikumar revives the baby, who is the only true son of Pandu. Hence, after the dice-game, Duhshasan says that while the four other Pandavas would be servants, Sahadev would rule half the kingdom.

Patnaik admits that his retelling of Sarala is not linear. There is a significant amount of repetition because of his decision to arrange his presentation thematically. He notes how all the characters of Sarala carry distinct folk tale features. He analyses Sarala’s style to reveal its typical characteristics as well as the verisimilitude of his persona. He even tries to find justification for some of the peculiar twists in the plot and in the conduct of the characters. He explains at length Sarala’s concept of moksha as stemming from inimical bhakti for Krishna and the concept of dharma. All opponents crave decapitation by his discus because it leads to salvation. Hence Patnaik calls Sarala’s work a “bhakti purana.” We find the same attitude pervading Jaimini’s Ashvamedha Parva, which is absent from the Vaishampayana version that we are familiar with. Sarala’s Krishna informs Jara that he would manifest as a stone image called Nilamadhava, and later as a tree and would be worshipped by Jara. It is from Jara that king Indradyumna gets to know about the deity. Jara carves the triple icons of Jagannatha, Balabhadra and Subhadra from that tree. When Krishna is asked by Vishnu to return, he bemoans the huge family he had created and is anguished at having to leave them. When he returns, Arjun is with him. Vishnu rebukes him and asks that he bring Balarama along, as he was also an avatar, and ignores Arjun.

In Sarala’s version of the gambling match, it is not Karna but Shakuni who urges that Draupadi be stripped. Draupadi’s furious glance sets fire to the Kaurav female apartments. Duryodhan’s wife Bhanumati, her clothes in disarray, rushes and falls at Draupadi’s feet begging protection. At Draupadi’s glare, Duhshasan collapses, Duryodhan and his brothers fall unconscious, Karna, Bhishma, Drona faint. Curiously, Sarala has Yudhishthir see everyone in Swarga—even his Oriya wife Suhani—but leaves out Dhritarashtra.

In a chapter on Sarala’s women, Patnaik reveals the male chauvinism prevalent in Orissa. Drupad exclaims that however great one might be, one becomes a servant to the family one’s daughter marries into. Better, he says, to abandon one’s wife along with the daughter she gives produces. Drupad points out that Uma’s father perished because of her. Vidur begs Krishna to ensure that he is not reborn as a woman. Out of fear of Draupadi, Yudhishthir does namaskar to her brother Dhrishtadyumna, giving rise to a famous Oriya saying “bhaarijaa darare salaaku namaskaara” (namaskaring the brother-in-law out of fear of the wife). Even during Draupadi’s humiliation, when Bheem thunders at Duhshasan, Yudhishthir rebukes him for one could get a hundred such wives but not brothers; for a mere wife brothers must not be killed. Amba, Ambika and Draupadi bewail their birth as women. Draupadi even tells Krishna that if a man is well-dressed and handsome, a woman will make love to him regardless of his being a brother or a son! This sentiment is also voiced by her in Kumara Vyasa’s Kannada retelling in the episode of the magical Nerali (rose-apple) fruit, which is of the same time as Sarala’s. In Sarala, Kunti, Draupadi and Subhadra accompany the Pandavas on their exile. After a couple of months when Krishna visits, they ask him to take the women with him. He takes Kunti and Subhadra but leaves Draupadi with them, as it is so fated. It is not Draupadi’s decision. She is not consulted when Yudhishthir in old age weds Suhani, though he asks his brothers. Sarala does not have Ashvatthama cursed or injured in any way. Although Draupadi had demanded his head from Krishna, he only takes away his weapons. He even has a cordial meeting with the Pandavas and Draupadi on their last journey. Sarala’s spin on the death of Draupadi and her four husbands is very interesting. Yudhishthir tells Bheem that Draupadi falls because she was unscrupulous, wicked, “duraachaari,” left her hair open, was fanatically vengeful and responsible for the destruction of the dynasty.

Patnaik is wrong in wondering at Kunti pressurising Krishna, “an outsider,” that if he did not ensure war she would commit suicide. Kunti was the elder sister of Krishna’s father, thus a close relative. Sarala’s Satyavati is born when her mother has sex with relatives to get a child. Satyavati does not force levirate on her widowed daughters-in-law. Her husband Pareswara (Parashara) commands her to do this. She persuades them by assuring that all sin, if any, would attach to her and not to them. Sarala gives Vichitravirya a third wife, Ambumati, daughter of the shudra king Kesava of Harikeshara, who has Vidur from Vyasa. Seven years after Yudhishthir’s birth, finding him too mild to be a king, Kunti on her own summons the wind god. Seven years after Bheem’s birth, finding him to be wicked and crude (later, Bheem almost hits her for condemning Krishna), again on her own, she summons Indra to beget Arjun. After these experiences, she is emotionally disturbed, humiliated that the nature of woman is to enjoy intense coitus. She bids her sons share Draupadi because she knows the inner nature of the Pandavas.

Gandhari has a violent slanging match in a Shiva temple with Kunti who, thanks to Arjuna, beats her to being the first to offer a hundred golden champaka flowers to the deity. When Gandhari tries to kill Yudhishthir with her flaming gaze, Krishna ensures that it is her last surviving son Durdasa who is consumed, so that not a single one of the enemy family is left alive. This ruthless aspect of Krishna is Sarala’s own vision, departing from Vyasa who had Yuyutsu, the last Dhartarashtra, become regent on the Pandavas’departure.

Sarala’s Bheem is different from Vyasa’s, in whose version he was fanatically devoted to his brothers. In Sarala, after the house-of-lac episode, when the others go on a pilgrimage to Gautama tirtha, Bheem, not liking the hard life, becomes king of Shivapura, while Kunti continues living in a hut! He even threatens to hit his mother when she criticises Krishna. In the Varanavata exile, when crossing a river infested by the demon Jalaprabha, Bhima proposes to offer up any of his brothers or even mother Kunti (to save her hardship!), but refuses to sacrifice himself. It is Kunti who offers him up instead, because she considers him a liability!

Patnaik devotes unnecessary space trying to explain Balarama’s motivations or lack thereof. He has detailed discussions on the characterisation of Dhritarashtra, Duryodhan, Duhshasan, Shantanu, Bhishma and fine insights into Bheem. The problem is that Patnaik occasionally makes cryptic references and one has to hunt for the explanations which turn up much later in a different context, e.g. the Sudraka Brahma story, or never, as with Durvasa cursing Duhshasan. He ought to have included Sarala’s unique creation, the image of Krishna assuming a chimerical form (Nabagunjara) combining nine animals, man and bird, to meet Arjun during his exile. The four legs are of elephant, tiger, horse or deer, and a human hand. The body is of a lion with a bull’s hump, a snake as tail, the neck of a peacock and the head of a rooster. Patnaik also leaves out the story of Krishna testing Karna’s steadfastness regarding his vow by demanding, as a hungry Brahmin, that Karna and his wife cook their son Bishwakasena for feeding him. The son himself begs his father to oblige the guest. Then the Brahmin demands that the head be pounded and cooked too and that the couple eat with him so that he was sure the food was not poisoned. Karna’s wife Suktatamaschala makes him agree and does all that is demanded. As they sit down to eat, he asks them to call to their son to join them. When they do, he comes running. Duryodhana recalls this supreme gift while shedding tears over Karna’s corpse. Krishna calls Karna the greatest of donors. This story was the centre-piece of Kshirodeprasad Bidyabinode’s hit Bengali play, “Nara Narayan” (1926). It does not occur in Kashiram Das, so the playwright possibly found his material in Sarala.

Patnaik provides a substantial bibliography in the light of which some comparison with the old Konkani Bharata would have enriched the study. It is strange that the CIIL has been so callous as not to provide even a list of contents, which is an essential pre-requisite. In that light, looking for an index is perhaps asking for too much. If the chapters had descriptive headings instead of mere numbers, it would help the reader.

The other book contains no information about when this colloquium took place and nothing about the three respondents. Standard diacriticals for transliterating Sanskrit are not used. For a University publication, this is quite unprofessional. The comments by the three scholars are not particularly valuable. Pratap Bandopadhyay has really nothing to say of consequence that is not well-known about the Mahabharata. Vrinda Dalmiya’s response is worth reading. Her discussion of the “impure agency” of Yudhishthira would have benefited considerably from studying the new insights proffered by Alf Hiltebeitel, James Hegarty, Emily Hudson and James Fitzgerald. Her short paragraph on Draupadi is disappointing, as it does not probe the depths of the character as drawn by Sarala vis-à-vis Vyasa. Syed Sayeed critiques Patnaik’s “simplistic” view of Sarala as a puranic reteller, while admitting his unfamiliarity with Sarala and other versions of the epic. These responses neither reveal a thorough grounding in the Mahabharata, nor familiarity with the variations in regional language retellings. They do not even discuss Sarala’s innovations and his variations on Vyasa’s plot and characters in any depth. Mostly, they are re-workings of second-hand opinions drawn from what others have written about the epic.

MAHABHARATA’S SECRETS

By

Gauri Dharmapal

THE SECRET OF THE MAHABHARATA by Pradip Bhattacharya Parimal Prakashan, Aurangabad, 1985, pp. 159. Rs. 110

Aurobindo Ghose pierced the veil of Vedic mysticism during the second decade of this century. His line was followed up by masters like Nolinikanta Gupta, Kapali Shastri and others. Simultaneously, Swami Pratyagatmananda revealed the Vedic vision of Sound in Japasutram and the deep scientific basis of Veda in Ved-O-Vijnan; and Ramendrasundar Trivedi laid bare the symbolism of Vedic ritual in Yajna-katha. Kshitimohan Sen discovered the link between the Vedas and Baul—the most progressive dharma of the world. Anirvan’s Veda-mimansa in the sixties established the esoteric interpretation of the Vedas on the firm oasis of the spiritual-religious-philosophical experiences of Bharatavarsha through centuries and millenia up to the present day. The reviewer’s view, presented in The Linguistic Atom, Ved-O-Shri Aurobindo and Veder Kobita, also fall in the same line. Rabindranath’s poetry too as shown by the reviewer is floodlit with Vedic experience.

All these findings, though independent of one another, yet pointing to the same conclusions, represent a. common approach to Vedic interpretation—the inner integral approach, which is very different from the external method generally followed by the academic world. Pradip Bhattacharya’s The Secret of the Mahabharata—a brilliant analysis of Vyasa’s myths in terms of Vedic truths—comes as a fresh corroboration of the validity of the integral approach.

Not only individual slokas scattered here and there, but the whole Mahabharata is a Vyasakuta, a unique puzzle—a guide to the secret treasure of the Vedas, written in a unique ambiguous code—left for the future generations to solve. Vyasa has left numerous clues for the solution of his puzzle in the form of Vedic words, phrases, mantras, imagery, woven into the fabric of the epic, which a casual reader is likely to dismiss as chance ocurrences and miss the message thereby. He will also skip over the definite positive statement of Vyasa that he has placed in the epic the mystery of the Veda—veda rahasyam; and his standing guideline to future researchers in Indology: ‘Elucidate the Veda with the help of itihasas and puranas.’ The commentator, Nilakantha, however, has not failed to note here (I. 1. 267-68) by way of illustration that the mayamriga of the Ramayana is nothing but an elaboration of the Vedic concept Of Vritra, the deceitful Coverer, who is described as a mayi mrga in the Rig Veda (1. 80.7).

It is delightful so see that the author of The Secret of the Mahabharata reads correctly the message of Vyasa and following Sukthankar’s penetrating remark that ‘there is an inner significance behind the events so realistically narrated in the Great Epic of India’ and that all great works of Indian art and literature are infused with the idea of achieving one gigantic all-embracing synthesis takes up the key from his observation that ‘many of the scenes of this drama, which at first sight appear to us unintelligible or at least uncouth and grotesque, acquire deep significance when they are treated symbolically’, and proceeds to decipher the Vyasan hieroglyphic.

The first chapter being devoted—and rightly so—to explaining the approach, the subsequent seven chapters are minute analyses of six episodes from the Adi-parva, namely: Utanka, Aruni-Uddalaka, Upamanyu and the Asvins, the Churning of the Ocean, Garuda and Amrita and finally Kacha and the Sanjivani mantra—in which with a marvellous sweep from Veda to Savitri, the author is able to prove that ‘Vyasa is writing directly in the mystic tradition of the Rigvedic rishis, couching spiritual messages in an elaborate symbolic structure.’

The intricate scheme of the Utanka story is beautifully unfolded in one of the most well-written chapters of this book and the parallelism worked out to the minutest detail, in which the grotesque and the uncouth perfectly fit in, Utanka qualifies himself for the acquisition of the Kundala by passing the test of temptation in his guru’s household. The Kundala itself signifies inner listening or shruti so dearly craved for by Ahalya the barren human field or adhara (this can very well become a symbol for barren scholarship craving for the mystic gift of the Word). Thus. Utanka’s story is shown to be nothing but Vyasa’s re-cast of the Vedic Angirasa myth, namely recovery of the lost sun, that is, the Veda.

The clue to the mystic interpretation of the Aruni episode lies, as the author shows, in the incongruity that the disciple is praised for finally splitting apart the dyke, while he was sent to plug the breach. Here, Aruni is playing successively the roles of 1) Ahi-Vritra the serpentine coil covering the divine waters of Bliss and Illumination by covering the waters with his physical body, and 2) Indra, who breaks open the barrier and releases the waters, by splitting apart the dyke. On this small canvas of a story, Vyasa has condensed the whole Vedic theme of the aspiration, suffering and victory of the soul (compare Rabindranath’s Muktadhara), like painting Kanchanjanga in her golden splendour on a postcard.

In the same vein, the ‘Churning of the Ocean’ is shown to be a word-to-word, phrase-to-phrase, symbol-to-symbol equation of the Soma-ritual which represents the churning of the sap of Delight and other divine treasures out of the turbulent depths of the inconscient; while the Garuda-Amrta episode represents the soul soaring high to the super-conscient ‘on the mighty wings of Word’ as observed by the reviewer in her Linguistic Atom.

The Kacha episode depicting the quest for the mantra of immortality provides the finale to this series of symbolic stories, pinpointing the creative Logos—which is the secret of Immortality—as the ultimate dynamic goal of the eternal quest.

Pradip Bhattacharya’s scholarship has an eye and ear for the mystic, which is the essential prerequisite for a researcher in Indology. His book, though full of printing and a few other mistakes, far outshines them, leaving ground, however, for alternative explanations here and there. For example, the name ‘Kacha’, meaning ‘hair’, has been explained, with a note of hesitation though, to hint at the ‘tonsured initiate’. But the meaning which exactly fits in with the esoteric explanation of the story is the ‘hair-like fibre of the Soma’ called amsu in the Rig Veda. In sacrifice, the fibrous Soma represents the sacrificer and its crushing and filtering into a purified flow of delightful juice represents the crushing of the man and transforming him into a stream of pure bliss, the joy of immortality or Higher Life which is called amrita in the Veda. The author has actually noticed the ‘equation of Kacha with Soma’ on p. 141.

Similarly, a roundabout explanation is given to the name Dhanvantari. A more direct and Vedic explanation is: One who has crossed (tari) the desert (dhanvan). Desert in the Veda—and in later poetry too—signifies the barren dry soul deprived of the shower of grace. The descent of divine grace is described as flooding the desert in Rig Veda VI. 12.5. So, the name ‘Dhanvantari’ signifies that through the arduous task of churning the ocean of his lower depths, man at last emerges victorious with the secret of immortality!

In the story of the Churning of the Ocean, Vyasa has inserted many more parallelisms to attract the seeing eye, which, if added, would have given the author a stronger support. Of these, the most striking, perhaps, is. the description of mandara, the churning rod, as savana (I. 18.8). The apparent meaning here is savana that is, ‘with forest’: The mountain was lifted up with its forest and inhabitants (savanam sa-vanankasam), the passage means. But under the cover of a pun, there is a second meaning. Savana also means: savana-sadhana the implement of Soma-crushing. Thus, the Churning of the Ocean becomes with a single stroke equivalent to the crushing of the Soma and all the accompanying symbolism—which the author has established with the help of many other proofs.

To point out a few slips, the name Utanka has always been mis-spelt as Uttanka. Veda—one of the three disciples of Dhaumya—is said (p. 56) to be the only one who is not put to tasks. On the contrary, Veda is the disciple, who was put to the severest of tasks, amounting to rigorous imprisonment. The suffering Veda underwent at the house of his guru taught him to treat his own disciples kindly, comments the Mahabharata. Rules of transliteration have not been followed properly by Bhattacharya, which makes the reading of the mantras extremely difficult.

But all this is secondary. After going through the 155 pages of his book, one is convinced that the Mahabharata is a unique time-capsule invented by Vyasa, the Genius, in which the mystic- knowledge of the Veda—the Grand Synthesis is preserved for posterity, not buried underground but left circulating through a chain of sutas waiting for the initiate to see-listen through the story-coating. We hope the author will carry on his research and explore the continent of Vyasa for the ‘souler’ cows to gaze and graze upon.

This century seems to be set for the reacting of the Angirasa myth. Indologists with a different turn of mind will do well to stop and listen, at this hour of crisis, to the message of the Vedas and Vyasa, and retrace their steps, instead of being lost irrevocably in the maze of erudite hypotheses leading to nowhere, lured by the imposing mayamriga of ‘modern’ researchology.

The Book Review Aug-Dec 1985, volume 10, No 8/12

Review of “The Mahabharata of Vyasa: The Complete Anuśāsanaparvan”, translated from Sanskrit by Pradip Bhattacharya, Writers Workshop, Kolkata, 2023, pp. 1254, Rs. 3000/-

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By Prof. Indrajit Bandyopadhyay, Department of English, Kalyani Mahavidyalaya, W.B.

Bhattacharya completes the academic and literary journey embarked upon by Padma Shri Professor Purushottam Lal’s first ever attempt at an English verse “transcreation” of the Mahābhāratain 1968, completing sixteen and a half of the epic’s eighteen books. Following his untimely demise in 2010, Bhattacharya took up the unfinished job of his guru, and translated the Mokṣadharmaparvan of the Śānti-parvan in 2018. His “guru–dakṣiṇā”, as he calls it, is complete with the translation of the Anuśāsanaparvan in 2023.

Bhattacharya humbly acknowledges of “not being a poet like Prof. Lal”, and has “striven to follow the spirit of the Lal transcreation”. He proposes to “keeping to the original syntax as far as possible without making the reading too awkward” realizing “the immensity of what the Professor achieved” and the “Meru-high task”.

Indeed it is no exaggeration, considering the cultural sensitiveness inherent to the massive project. The Śāntiparvan and Anuśāsanaparvan are the twin cruxes of the Mahābhāratan philosophy encapsulating ancient Indian wisdom, thoughts, insights and discourses on various aspects of Dharma: Mokṣadharma, Rājadharma, Strīdharma, Dānadharma, as also the practical and pragmatic applications of dharma in daily life. In short, the Śāntiparvan and the Anuśāsanaparvan are the compendium of Dharmaśāstra and Arthaśāstra. With the well accepted dating of the writtenMahābhārata as commencing in the 4th century BCE marking the transition from the oral text, they may be taken as complementing and corresponding to the Kalpasūtra tradition of Dharmasūtras (600-100 BCE; P. V. Kane’s dating) and Kauṭilya’s Arthaśāstra of the age (3rd century BCE).  

In the Anuśāsanaparvan, various aspects of dharma have been demonstrated through puraṇik narratives, parables and fables, which further highlight the correspondence with Viṣṇu Śarma’s Pañcatantra (200 BCE) and Buddhist Jātaka narratives (circa 3rd century BCE). The parvan has unique tales like that of King Bhaṅgāśvana (13.12) who undergoes a mysterious sex-gender transformation and then prefers to remain a woman because –

“Women in uniting with men have

greater pleasure always.

For that reason, Śakra-Indra, womanhood

I choose indeed.” (Bhattacharya: XIII.12.76)    

In all probability, the original Śāntiparvan was later split to structure the Anuśāsanaparvan as a separate entity. The Spitzer manuscript belonging to the Kuṣāṇa period, and Carbon-14 dated as 80-230 CE, does not mention the Anuśāsanaparvan. Nor does Al-Biruni (973-1050 CE) in his ‘India’, while mentioning that the Śāntiparvan consists of 24000 ślokas. However, Abul Fazal (1551-1602 CE) in his preface to the Razmnama mentions the Śāntiparvan of 14732 ślokas and the Anuśāsanaparvan of 8000 ślokas. This proves beyond doubt that the integrated Śāntiparvan was restructured and split into the present Śāntiparvan and Anuśāsanaparvan somewhere between the 11th and 16th century CE.

It is for that reason, coupled with the fact that Ugraśravā Sauti imagines the Śāntiparvan as the bṛhatphalaḥ (1.1.62d@1_52) or the great fruit of the Bhārata-vṛkṣa (the ‘Mahābhārata-tree’), a glory shared by the Anuśāsanaparvan being originally the fruit, Bhattacharya’s English translation in easy flowing language gains immense cultural significance. Sauti’s “hundred parvan” count regards the Anuśāsanaparvan as the ānuśāsanikaṃ param (1.2.65a) and in the parvan-summary he mentions the parvan as ānuśāsanam uttamam (1.2.201a; 204a).  

The academic and cultural importance of Bhattacharya’s translation, “the first English translation of the Anuśāsanaparvan in free verse (alternate lines of ten and four-to-six feet) and in prose (as in the original)”, rendering the difficult Mahābhārata-ślokas (“cryptic and complicated – true Vyāsa-kūṭas”) accessible to the general public with opportunity of comparative study with other English translations from Kisari Mohan Ganguli to Bibek Debroy, through M. N. Dutt and Van Buitenen, must be ascertained and critically understood in this light.

Bhattacharya experiments with translating Sanskrit into English, as much with English language itself. Bhārata-India being an independent raṣṭra, the colonial hangover must be over. In any case, Sanskrit has no obligation to fit into the English mould. Besides, English is no more an alien language. Therefore, English must now be Indianized by active agency.

Bhattacharya’s translation experimentation pioneers that cultural consciousness. He retains Sanskrit words that are in the Oxford English Dictionary, and following Prof. Lal’s style of rendering some Sanskrit words and giving their contextual English synonym with a hyphen, also coins Sanskrit-English compounds or retains the Sanskrit word as it is. In the latter case, initially, the unused eye and ear may miss the rhythm; however, the Sanskrit-English compound has a rhythm of its own, adds to poetic flavour, enables Bhattacharya to maintain syllable counts in feet, and also enables him to be simultaneously translator and reader.  

Those preferring the rational approach to the Mahābhārata pioneered by Baṃkim Candra Chattopādhyāya in ‘Kṛṣṇacaritra’ (1886) may detect in this parvan several clues to the poetic and rational explanation to why Vyāsa (and “Vyāsaīds” – to use Sukthankar’s coinage) hail Yudhiṣṭhira as the Dharma-Indra king on earth, poetically and mythically represented as Deva Dharma’s biological son and an ex-Indra incarnate. For example, there is an episode in which Yudhiṣṭhira, the “new Indra on earth” meets none other than the devaguru Bṛhaspati to receive essential advice (13.112-114).

This is in all fitness of things. Yudhiṣṭhira is hailed as Ajātaśatru (e.g. 1.133.25c), as Indra is known in the Rigveda (Rv 5.34.1a; 8.93.15c).

In continuation of the Śāntiparvan–Mokṣadharmaparvan liberal philosophic and soteriological discourses and advocacy of liberal varṇa system (portraying non-brāhmiṇ characters like Sulabhā, prostitute Piṅgalā and śūdras as qualified for higher merit and social status through wisdom), the Anuśāsanaparvan advocates “Secular Humanism” significantly mouthed by Maheśvara Śiva in presence of Umā. We recall: Umā teaches Indra about Brahma (Kena Upaniṣad, 4.1).

Bhattacharya, in a rediscovery of his translation style of the Mokṣadharmaparvan, retains the unique experimentations with the translation genre. He departs from customary translations in providing the original Sanskrit śloka in cases of key messages of the Mahābhārata.

For example, Bhattacharya retains Maheśvara’s words to Umā: sarvabhūtānukampī yaḥ sarvabhūtārjavavrataḥ / sarvabhūtātmabhūtaś ca sa vai dharmeṇa yujyate // (CE 13.130.28) and then gives the translation (Bhattacharya XIII.150.39-40; p 917-918).

Similarly, he retains the next śloka: ārjavaṃ dharma ity āhur adharmo jihma ucyate / ārjaveneha saṃyukto naro dharmeṇa yujyate // (13.130.30)

And translates:

“Sincerity is dharma, it is said:

Adharma is crookedness called.

United with sincerity here,

A person is yoked to dharma.”

One central message of the Mahābhārata is the Śiva and Nārāyaṇa oneness (stated unequivocally in the Śāntiparvan, e.g. 12.330.64), or to put it in the historical context, Śaiva and Vaiṣṇava synthesis. 

Here, Śiva’s placing ārjava as equal to and even greater than the Vedas is not only consistent with Vyāsa and Kṛṣṇa’s reformative and dynamic approach to the Vedas (for example, Gītā.2.42 / Mbh. CE 6.24.42), but also brings Jainism and Buddhism within the fold of Dharma and cultural synthesis as part of the great humanistic and synthetic attempt of the Mahābhārata, ārjava (ajjava, ajjavayā, and ajjaviya in Pāli) being one of the key doctrines in both Gautama Buddha and Mahāvīra’s teachings.

In Jainism, ārjava refers to one of the ten-fold dharma (i.e., yatidharma) capable of leading across saṃsāra, according to chapter 3.3 [sumatinātha-caritra] of Hemacandra’s 11th century Triṣaṣṭiśalākāpuruṣacaritra.

One would have missed these dhārmika-saṃskṛtika links had Bhattacharya rendered ārjava as “sincerity” only without giving the original word. Needless to emphasize, the English word “sincerity” falls short of the dhārmika and cultural significance of ārjava.

Another important śloka in Maheśvara’s mouth deconstructing rigid varṇa system is: na yonir nāpi saṃskāro na śrutaṃ na ca saṃnatiḥ / kāraṇāni dvijatvasya vṛttam eva tu kāraṇam // (13.131.49)

Bhattacharya retains the śloka and translates:

“Neither birth, nor sacraments, nor scriptures, nor humility

Are reasons for twice-born-hood. Conduct indeed is the reason”.

The retention of the original śloka gives the reader better opportunity to see the similarity with Gautama Buddha’s teachings in the Tripiṭaka.  

Bhattacharya dedicates the Anuśāsanaparvan translation to the late Alf Hiltebeitel whom he regards “most prolific of Mahābhārata scholars”. This needs special mention because in many ways Prof. Lal and Bhattacharya’s approach to the Mahābhārata has been diametrically opposite to Hiltebeitel’s. While Hiltebeitel was one of the staunchest defenders of the BORI Critical Edition, the guru (Lal) and the “chelā extraordinaire” prefer the “full ‘ragbag’ version” reminding us of the Nīlakaṅṭha tradition, which is, in Sukthankar’s words: “smooth and eclectic”, “of an inclusive rather than exclusive type”. (Prolegomena, LXVI)

To conclude: Bhattacharya’s translation is definitely uttamam true to the laudatory perspective of the Anuśāsanaparvan.

Published in “Indian Literature”, Sahitya Akademi’s Bimonthly Journal, Jan-Feb 2025.

MISOGYNY IN THE MAHABHARATA

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The Dharma of Unfaithful Wives & the Faithful Jackals By Wendy Doniger. Speaking Tiger, 2024, pp.222, Rs. 499.

Dr. Wendy Doniger has a penchant for catching the reader’s eye by titling her books intriguingly, e.g. The Bedtrick, The Woman who pretended to be Who She Was, etc. Her latest offering is no exception, with a provocative cover: a lovely pattachitra showing many-eyed Indra embracing Ahalya.

The book is much more than what the title suggests. It is a quite a daring project revealing that the two largest tomes of the Mahabharata (the Books of Peace and of Discipline) are not merely dreary didactic perorations but contain nuggets of unusual tales embedded within. She retells tales from the Book of Horse Sacrifice too. There are bad and good women, animal fables, fathers and sons, how Evil (rather Death) entered the world, kings including Indra and her favourite god, Shiva whom she has called, “The god of cool things” (India Today, April 23, 2013). Many of the tales contain peculiar reversals or twists that make us pause and muse.

Women are not just passive victims here, like Utathya’s nameless wife abducted by Varuna, Rukmini whipped by Durvasa, and Oghavati meekly submitting to a guest’s insistence for coitus at her husband’s command. The misogyny is justified by having women speak disparagingly of themselves. The celestial courtesan Panchachuda tells Narada: “Women indeed are the root of sin…For them none is unapproachable” (Anushasana Parva, 39.12, 17). This is because, as Raja Bhangashvana, man-turned-woman, tells Indra, coition gives women greater pleasure than men. Therefore, much to Indra’s astonishment, he prefers to remain a woman. Disha, the Northern Direction, echoes this. Though uniquely independent and unafraid of curses, she denounces women to Ashtavakra as family-destroyers, slaves of sexual desire and never deserving any independence.

Conversely, which Doniger does not note, the Mokshadharma Parva begins with the courtesan Pingala attaining enlightenment out of a frustrated tryst by conquering her senses, musing: “The expectation-less sleeps happily. Non-expectation is supreme happiness” (my translation 168.52). Rishi Bodhya names her as the first of his six gurus (Mokshadharma Parva, 171.7).

In retelling how Vipula prevented his guru’s wife Ruchi from submitting to Indra’s seduction by yogically entering her body, Doniger overlooks how the female ascetic Sulabha humbled Raja Janaka in the same yogic fashion (Mokshadharma Parva, section 320). Vipula’s allegorical encounters with symbols of day and night and the seasons are paralleled by Uttanka’s experiences (eating bull-shit; two women weaving black and white threads; a rotating 12-spoked wheel). Doniger misses this because she chooses not the original Paushya Parva version but the later Ashvamedha Parva one, which she selects to capitalise on the Gautama-Ahalya-Indra myth. Here, Uttanka’s guru is not Veda but Gautama, and the guru’s wife is not nameless but is the “notorious” Ahalya (who) “invent(ed) adultery”. Actually, Uttanka’s tale has nothing to say about women—good or bad; so its inclusion is puzzling. In comparing Vipula’s deed to dying Vidura yogically infusing himself “into his brother’s male body” (p.18) Doniger is mistaken as Yudhishthira is his nephew, not his brother.

Richika instructs his wife that his mother-in-law should embrace not a banyan tree, as Doniger retells, but a peepul (ashvattha). Nor does the mother-in-law tell her daughter that her father Gadhi wanted her to switch the “charus” as Doniger states (p.46).

Among good wives, woman is first extolled as mother in the tale of slow-to-act Chirakari who demurs when his father Gautama bids him kill his adulterous mother (as Jamadagni bade Parashurama kill Renuka). He muses that the mother is the supreme refuge and is higher than the father; that there is no offence in women whereas it is man that offends. The second instance is of Oghavati who obliges an importunate guest sexually, obeying her husband’s command never to refuse a guest anything. The husband sees her as chatteel, echoed in Yudhishthira’s pledging Draupadi as stake. So too with Jamadagni who mercilessly keeps his wife Renuka running under the blazing sun to fetch arrows he shoots. The good wife is, therefore, the subservient one. Doniger has not included here the clincher voiced by Parvati on the dharma of women to Shiva, backed up by 13 river goddesses:

“Husband is indeed woman’s deva,

Husband is friend, husband is the goal,

Equal to the husband no shelter exists,

Nor any deity like the husband.” (Anushasana Parva, 154.72, my translation)

Doniger has not noted that the episode of Durvasa whipping Krishna and Rukmini harnessed to his chariot is paralleled by Chyavana doing the same with Raja Kushika and his queen (Anushasana Parva, 53.41) with an identical conclusion. Here, too, the ideal of suffering all atrocities silently is upheld. Similarly, the princess Sukumari remains devoted to Narada although he gets a monkey’s face.

The section about fathers and sons retells the deeply moving story of Vyasa’s anguish over his vanished son Shuka. The tale of gold-spitting Suvarnashtivi is taken from the Shanti Parva version where he is devoured by a tiger but resurrected by Narada. The earlier version in the Drona Parva (section 55) is the original of the golden goose tale. Robbers cut open the prince but, finding no gold, kill one another. There is no resurrection here.

Possibly the most appealing in the retellings are animal fables (pious and greedy jackals, stupid and wise tigers, the foolish camel, the three types of fish) that stress virtue and intelligence. A unique fatalistic story about a dog and a sage states that one’s inherited nature does not change despite keeping the best company. Most akin to the Panchatantra and the Hitopadesha is the fable about the cat, the mouse, the owl, the mongoose and the hunter. Its view of life is hard-headed and unemotional: “No one is anyone’s enemy. No one is anyone’s friend…Self-interest is the most powerful factor…people protect themselves.”

Doniger does well to include the little-known story about the starving rishi Vishvamitra trying to steal an untouchable’s haunch of a dog for food telling the protesting Chandala, “One can only achieve dharma when one is alive…I will even eat what should not be eaten (to live).” However, this incident does not occur in the Kali Yuga as she writes (p.128) but when the Dvapara Yuga had just begun (Shanti Parva, 139.14).

A very shocking story is about a wicked Brahmin ignorant of the Vedas—ironically named “Gautama” (enlightened)—who devours a heron that had saved him in acute distress and robs a rakshasa king who had fed him. Despite this, when the heron is resurrected, he persuades Indra to resurrect Gautama whom he considers his friend. Gautama is cursed by the gods to a terrible hell. Character, not birth, makes a Brahmin.

One section is devoted to the fascinating tale of the origin of Death (not “Evil” as Doniger writes; from Shanti Parva section 238, not 283). Mrityu-Death is a woman, clad in black-and-red cloth formed from Brahma’s fury to lighten the over-populated earth, who obdurately refuses to kill. Her tears of misery become diseases that kill. There is an equally interesting tale about what sets a king apart from other humans. Here Brahmins slay the tyrannical king Vena and install the unknown Prithu who comes to be known as “raja” because he pleased (ranjita) the people and becomes Vishnu’s embodiment on earth. Hence the divine right of kings. One of the founders of the Lunar Dynasty, Pururavas, was also killed by Brahmins. Therefore, Parashurama is by no means the only kshatriya-killing Brahmin. Punishment (danda) is the raja’s bounden duty—even chopping off the Brahmin Likhita’s hands.

There is also a strange story about a king affronted when seven starving sages (including Vishvamitra) refuse his offer of food because accepting gifts from a kshatriya destroys ascesis. Shockingly, these sages were about to cook the corpse of that same king’s son for food to save their lives! Their cannibalism attracts no censure! The affronted king sends a female spirit to kill the sages. They are saved by Indra, disguised as sage Shunahsakha, “friend of dogs”.

Dogs have a curious double aspect in the Mahabharata. Although considered polluting, Dharma himself becomes a dog accompanying Yudhishthira on his last journey and Uttanka is offered amrita by Indra disguised as an untouchable with a dog. Sarama, the celestial bitch, curses Janamejaya because his brothers beat her son at their yajna. Hence the snake-sacrifice remains incomplete.

Several stories about Indra are retold: two versions of his killing Vṛitra and how he slew Vishvarupa, incurring the sin of Brahminicide and how he regained his throne; not by killing Nahusha as Doniger writes (p.179), but by his queen Shachi tricking Nahusha. Indra tricks the parched Uttanka out of drinking amrita by offering it in the desert as an untouchable’s urine. In the Paushya Parva Uttanka ate bull-shit that was actually amrita given by Indra. Stories of Shiva are included: how he destroyed his father-in-law Daksha’s yajna by creating Fever (jvara); how Ushana the Asura-guru came to be called Shukra on emerging from Shiva’s penis; how Skanda was born from Shiva and speared the asura Taraka to death.

Doniger writes wittily as always, showing that the two largest and most tedious books of the Mahabharata contain interesting tales. However, she does enjoy shocking. Thus, instead of describing Brihaspati and Shukra as preceptors/gurus of the gods and demons, she uses the Italian “consigliore”, implying that both groups are Mafia!

Published in the May 2025 issue of The Book Review

A Malay Version of the Mahabharata

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Fascinating variations of the Ramayana and the Mahabharata are found in South-East Asian countries. A compendious study of these is yet to be made. Most Ramayana variations were summarised by Fr. Camille Bulcke in his encyclopaedic study of the Rama story in Hindi (cf. English translation by Pradip Bhattacharya, The Rama Story—Origin and Growth, Sahitya Akademi, 2022). Nothing similar exists for the Mahabharata. Now Professor Harry Aveling  of Monash University has complemented his translation of Hikayat Seri Rama, the Malay Ramayana (2020) by rendering into English a Malay Pandava Chronicle (Hikayat Pandava Lima, Writers Workshop, Kolkata, 2024, pp. 309, hardback Rs.1200). This is but one of the many versions of the Mahabharata in South East Asia, drawing upon the old Javanese Bharatayuddha (1157-59 CE), Ghatokachasraya and Hariwangsa. Dated vaguely (1350-1700?), the anonymous Hikayat Pandava Lima (HPL) was meant for recitation in the royal court. HPL, Aveling suggests, is a collection of scripts for staging with actors or puppets. The heroic episodes are peppered with erotica and clowning, e.g. Rajuna (Arjuna) having fun at the expense of his attendants Semar and Chemura.

Claiming to relate in Malay the Javanese story of their ancestors, the Indian source is obvious. Mantras are in Javanese. The Islamic influence is apparent in Darmawangsa’s (Yudhishthira) infallible supreme-weapon named kalima sada (kalima shahadah, declaration of faith) and in scribal notes that resurrection and rebirth are false. Pandawas have talismanic weapons: Rajuna’s pasupati arrow (not the Gandiva bow) and Bima’s (Bhima) panchanaka, his long sharp nail that pierces fatally, besides a massive mace. The influence of Telegu, Tamil and Malayalam folk-tales is clear in several episodes. Replete with adventures and romance, the flavour is much like that of the Kathasaritsagara (c.11th century) and Dashakumaracharita (c.8th century). The publisher Ananda Lal’s list of original Sanskrit names of major characters is extremely helpful in navigating through the plethora of persona peopling the chronicle. Strangely enough, Dhritarashtra, Gandhari, Ulupi, Chitrangada do not feature.

Eveling seeks to convey the Malayan syntax by replacing the word maka, which acts as a bridge between sentences, by the double forward slash (//) hoping “to show the self-contained lines of prose that the word marks off…allow the reader the progress of the text in a slow and aesthetic manner.” Otherwise, it would become a series of staccato sentences.

Eveling splits HPL into three parts: (1) Games of Love and Chance; (2) The Great War and (3) After the War. Beginning in media res with the dice game (as Satyajit Ray had planned to begin his film on the Mahabharata), the chronicle’s last part is the most novel, dealing with Rajuna’s (Arjuna) obsession with Duryudana’s (Duryodhana) widow Banuwati (Bhanumati) and his duel with his thousand-handed namesake Rajuna Sarabahu. Part One draws heavily upon the highly popular Telegu tale of Abhimanyu’s (Bimanyu) love for Sasirekha (Satya Sundari) depicted in shadow puppetry (Tholu bommalata), Yakshagana and Kuchipudi.

There are significant departures from the Mahabharata. Rajuna has two wives: Draupadi and Serikandi (Shikhandi) who swears to fight for the Pandavas. Rajuna turns into an inveterate philanderer. On Duryudana’s command Sangkuni (Shakuni) transforms into dice and Arya Manggala becomes the gambling table. After losing the dice-game, Darmawangsa sends Draupadi back to Inderpasta (Indraprastha) where she remains till the Pandavas return from exile. Darmawangsa has to groom horses. Bima is the gatekeeper who never opens the gate so that people unable to access the river relieve themselves inside filling Duryudana’s palace with stink. Rajuna is the gardener seducing all Duryudana’s concubines and his wife Banuwati. Duryudana, furious, turns to Drona who advises that the Pandavas be ordered to dive into the river to recover an arrow. A dragon living there swallows them but Bima rips open its belly and they proceed to the city of Merchunegara ruled by Wurgadewa. The entire forest-exile is omitted. Draupadi and Kichaka are absent. The Pandavas are disguised as the king’s priest, chief butcher, female dress-maker and grooms. The cross-dressing Rajuna seduces the queens as well as wives and daughters of all ministers, ignoring Darmawangsa’s disapproval. None of the queens are willing to be with Wurgadewa thereafter! The sharing of betel quid is a major step in seduction. Elaborate descriptions of beautiful heroines compared to a variety of flowers abound.

Bimanyu’s love-sickness for Krishna’s daughter Satya Sundari is an elaborate episode filled with romantic descriptions of nature and of both protagonists. While following the Telegu tale, it introduces a horrific gigantic goddess Durga seated on a golden throne surrounded by goblins, skulls and blood, recalling the Bheel Bharata. She who appoints Gatotkacha to fulfil Bimanyu’s desire. Later, Bimanyu falls madly in love with Dewi Utari (Uttara) daughter of Maharaja Mangaspati of Wirata, enraging Satya Sundari, which reminds us of Draupadi’s anger when Subhadra arrives as Arjuna’s new bride. She gets reconciled after Bimanyu recites an obscene spell taught by Rajuna. Krishna has no objection, as he himself has twenty wives!

After thirteen years, ordered by Indera (Indra) to return to Inderapasta, the Pandavas arrive and find Karna has taken Kunti to Astinapura (Hastinapura). Setyaki (Satyaki) is Kunti’s brother. The Korawas are 107 brothers. Kunti bids Duryudana give Astinapura to the Pandavas as it is their inheritance, but he refuses.

The Great War is preceded by another that is unique to this chronicle. Wurgadeva demands that Darmawangsa hand over Utari and Satya Sundari to him as they are reincarnations of his late wife. A battle occurs in which Krishna, Baladewa and Gatotkacha join the Pandavas. Rajuna kills Wurgadeva. Commanded by Betara Guru (the supreme deity), the Pandavas agree to the slain being resurrected by the sprinkling of Sempayang Merta Jiwa water (mritasanjivani). Similar innovations occur in the apocryphal Dandi Parva  where Pandavas and Kauravas jointly fight Krishna over Urvashi transformed into a mare; in Kavi Sanjay’s 15th century Bengali Mahabharata  in which Draupadi and the Yadava women rout the Kauravas after the killing of Abhimanyu; and in Tamil tales of Arjuna’s philandering helped by Krishna.

The Kurukshetra war mostly follows the Mahabharata, omitting the Gita and Krishna’s cosmic form. That occurs only when Duryudana tries to capture him during his peace embassy. On the battlefield when Rajuna does not wish to fight, Krishna is amazed. Thereupon Darmawangsa goes afoot to Bisma (Bhishma) and obtains his blessings for victory. The fallen Bisma bids Rajuna provide a mat, rejecting Duryudana’s golden five-layered mat. Rajuna spreads out arrows on which Bisma gladly lies. When Bahgadata (Bhagadatta) kills Rajuna, Krishna resurrects him with his wijaya kusama (victory flower). Karna breaks Bimanyu’s bow and weeps over his corpse. After Gatotkacha’s death his mother Arimbi (Hidimba) weeps with Kunti and Draupadi and then plunges into his pyre.

Moving romantic interludes are introduced featuring Karna and his wife Sinta Kunti, Salya and his queen Satyavati before their deaths. Karna’s chariot is destroyed instead of getting bogged down. Salya tells Sakula (Nakula) how Darmawangsa can kill him. Battle-descriptions are formulaic and become tedious, with elaborate accounts of chariots, horses, flags, weapons, blood and gore and heroes running amok. Those victorious are invariably presented a full set of clothes and ornaments by the king. The mass-mourning of the Stri Parva is replaced by Satyavati’s lament. She commits suicide over Salya’s corpse, followed by her maid Skanda. Unable to bear the pain of his shattered thighs, Duryudana begs the Pandavas to kill him but Bima’s club-blows fail because the deities decree that death will come only after the Pandavas have been beheaded. This occurs after Bambang Sutomo (Ashvatthama) brings him the head of Panji Kumara, son of Darmawangsa. Bima skins Sutomo alive.

Sangkuni (Shakuni) resurrects after Bima kills him by virtue of his magical panji suata. With the remaining Korawa troops he builds a fortress in Inderaguna forest. Krishna bids his son Parjaman to kill Sangkuni but he is afraid, whereupon the Pandawas give him their talismans. Sangkuni transforms into a second Mount Imaguna, is attacked by the Pandawas and mortally wounds Darmawangsa by piercing his shadow (in a Malayalam tale Duryodhana does this to the Pandavas). Sadewa kills Sangkuni and drops his ashes into the sea so that he cannot resurrect.

The post-war portion is filled with unique tales. Bima kills Dursana, Bahgadatta and Karna’s widows but Rajuna saves Banumati and marries her. The Pandavas return to Mertawangsa while Rajuna settles in Astinapura with Banumati. Here Duryudana’s spirit possesses him and he fights against his brothers. Darmawangsa exorcises the spirit whereupon reconciliation occurs, but he curses Rajuna with leprosy. With Banumati he lives in a hut in Inderaguna forest. Krishna seeks him out but Rajuna refuses to return as he is grieving for his wife Serikandi. Krishna advises him to take Ratnawati, wife of hundred-headed Rajuna Sasrabahu (Arjuna Sahasrabahu), who is like Serikandi. In an elaborate battle Sasrabahu is killed only when Rajuna severs a tiny head hidden behind his left ear. This has a parallel in the folk tradition of one of Ravana’s heads being a donkey’s. Ratnawati kills Rajuna but Krishna resurrects him with a wijayamala flower. To stop the fleeing Ratnawati, Rajuna shoots off her garments and captures her. Sasrabahu is resurrected by Narada on orders of Begawan Guru so that he can complete worshipping him. Krishna takes Rajuna and Banumati back to Mertawangsa where Darmawangsa forgives and cures him.

The massacre of Yadavas is changed into a celebration on the sea-beach by them and the Pandawas during which Krishna and Rajuna dry up the sea-bed to provide a playfield for wives. Enraged, Singabiraja, king of ghosts and rakshasas living in mid-ocean, kidnaps Parkasti (Parikshit). Rajuna beheads him and rescues his grandson. After crowning Parikasti, the Pandawas are told by Narada that Begawan Guru and Indera have summoned them to heaven. So, Darmawangsa stabs himself with the weapon bajrima. Bima tells Narada to kill him by hitting under his ear. Instead, he breaks Bima limbs with his club as punishment because he had caused pain to so many and only then kills him. Rajuna is stabbed by the pasupati; Sakula and Sadewa stab themselves. Draupadi, Subadra, Banuwati and Ratnawati plunge into the pyre. Parikasti places the urns containing the ashes in a temple.

The chronicle concludes with the exhortation to omit whatever offends and expand whatever pleases. “I have done what I could” says the chronicler.

Rajadharma: The Rules of Governance

By

P. Lal: The Mahabharata of Vyasa, Book XII, the Complete Shanti Parva Part 1 (“Raja-Dharma”), pp.1011, Rs.2000 (hardback), Rs. 1500 (flexiback), Writers Workshop, Calcutta.

The last part of the great epic of Bharata that Professor Lal, Padma Shri and Jawaharlal Nehru Fellow, succeeded in completing is now published. Devoted to the principles of governance (raja-dharma), it appears at a time most opportune when all principles have been cast to the winds and the polity of India is falling to pieces. Kiran Bedi’s tweet of 10th June 2012 on “Coalgate” shows how alive India’s great epic still is in our consciousness after millennia: “PMO clears Prime Minister. Did Dhritarashtra in Mahabharata not support Kauravas even after they attempted to disrobe Draupadi? Indian genes/culture? Or?” Soon after the Gujarat riots, Prime Minister Vajpayee’s only response to the public outrage had been to urge chief minister Modi to be mindful of “raja-dharma”. Unfortunately, today neither the legislature nor the executive is aware of what this phrase means. The availability of this transcreation should bridge that hiatus.

The holocaust of Kurukshetra is over; eighteen armies have been decimated. The cosmic design to rid over-burdened Prithivi of power-hungry warriors has been accomplished. Surely, for Yudhishthira, son of Dharma and the righteous king (Dharma-Raja), it is a time to celebrate the fulfillment of his mother Kunti’s dream to see her sons win back their inheritance. Instead, he is tormented by loss and guilt, confessing to the celestial sage Narada,

“motivated by greed
I committed this maha-murder
of my kith and kin…
what is it but defeat…?”

So, the chink in his armour of righteousness is the passion that has doomed the lunar dynasty down the ages: greed. He is particularly anguished over the killing of Karna, who knew he was the eldest Kaunteya while fighting his brothers who did not. We learn that his anger against Karna would dissipate when he looked at his feet which strangely resembled Kunti’s. What an inimitable Vyasan vignette! Hence Yudhishthira’s curse that women will never be able to keep a secret. Narada informs him of a great secret: it was in order to engender the war that “a friction-fostering foetus/was placed in a virgin womb”. So Karna’s role from the very beginning was that of the resentful bastard, like Edmund in King Lear, backing up Duryodhana against the Pandavas. Narada narrates key incidents in Karna’s life bringing out the multiple handicaps he suffered: disowned at birth, cursed by Parashurama and a Brahmin, the boon he gave Kunti, his gift of the armour and earrings that made him invulnerable, being branded half-a-chariot-hero by Bhishma, constant belittling by Shalya, Krishna ensuring that Arjuna never faced a fresh Karna. Narada mentions Karna defeated Jarasandha who gifted him Champa town in Anga which begs a question: if he were truly king of Anga, as Duryodhana had crowned him, how could Champa be Jarasandha’s to gift? We always find Karna in Hastinapura, never ruling in Anga. Was the investiture merely symbolic?

We find here interesting revelations regarding the society of those times. For instance, what was the status of atheism? Charvaka (after whom the doctrine of atheism is named) takes advantage of Yudhishthira’s guilt to berate him publicly. The Brahmins kill him, branding him a demon and friend of Duryodhana disguised as a mendicant. Again, Narada informs that king Rantideva killed over 20,000 cows to feed guests. So, the Vedic practise of slaughtering a cow for a special guest (who was therefore called “goghna”) continued into epic society. Vyasa tells that Uddalaka’s famous son Shvetaketu was actually begotten by a disciple on his wife on his guru’s orders. Uddalaka later renounced his son for having lied to Brahmins. Yajnas (sacrifices) are prescribed as essential for all four classes with the saving that the Shudra will not chant mantras. The three other classes are responsible for maintaining the Shudra. A Brahmin of ill character is equivalent to a Shudra and should be ostracized. It is one’s karma that makes dharma. The ruler must have a group of ministers taken from all sections of society: 4 Brahmins, 8 Kshatriyas, 21 Vaishyas, 3 Shudras, 1 bard expert in Puranas. Their qualifications are given in detail. Of them the ruler has a cabinet of eight, whose decisions must be announced to the public. Section 108 contains the famous verses, extolling them as the highest teaching:

“One’s father excels ten teachers, one’s mother surpasses ten fathers, indeed surpasses the world itself. There is no guru anywhere to equal a mother…you will gain this world by serving your father, the next world by serving your mother properly, and the world of Brahma by serving your guru…When a legitimate adult son fails to support his father and mother, his crime equals that of killing a foetus—that which is no greater wickedness.”

There is an uncompromising condemnation of those who discarding the three Vedas, their professions and families, don saffron robes and go begging with a three-pronged staff:

“but they are tied to the world,
because to them
begging is a profession…
Pure selfishness.
These shaven dunderheads,
flaunting the flag of dharma,
are hypocrites.”

It is also admitted that “the shastras are full of contradictions”, and that “The Vedas do not cover everything” (Section 109). Ascesis, tapasya, is extolled above sacrifices and it is clarified that this does not mean mortifying the flesh but is non-violence, truthfulness, self-control, compassion. Incidentally, there is never any mention of the Vedas as numbering more than three, which shows that the Atharva Veda was a post-Mahabharata composition. We are also told that originally the three Vedas were one. It is Vyasa who arranged them under separate names, as he did with the original Purana.

As with the secret cause of Karna’s birth, another fascinating sidelight comes in the tale of demon Damsha that takes forward the rape of Bhrigu’s wife Puloman related in the Adi Parva. We learn that the rapist was cursed by Bhrigu to be reborn as a vicious insect, and in that form he bored through Karna’s thigh, resulting in Parashurama’s curse.

To dissuade Yudhishthira from becoming a sannyasi, by turn arguments are presented by the brothers and Draupadi extolling earning of wealth (artha), the householder’s life, desire (kama) and punishment and justice (danda) as the principle preserving a polity. In the process, they even call Yudhishthira a fool! To console Yudhishthira for the loss of his progeny, Krishna narrates the account of 16 past kings of far greater stature who all died. This account, occurring also in the Drona Parva, is similar to the Old English “Deor’s Lament” in intention.

Once Yudhishthira has reconciled to kingship, Krishna sends him to Bhishma, lying on his bed of arrows, for instruction on governance, for with his death “you will see the setting of all knowledge.” Bhishma begins with a paean to Krishna in which he mentions the ten avatars, interestingly saluting Balarama as “the soul of Bhoga, enjoyment” and Krishna as “the soul of sport”, and mentioning Buddha as disciplining the anti-gods. The crucial importance of the ruler is repeatedly stressed:

“First find a raja.
Then get a wife.
Then wealth…
Without a raja
Your wife and wealth,
What good are they?”

The ruler’s cardinal duty is to ensure his subjects’ welfare first and last. Unless he conquers his own senses, he cannot conquer his foes. It is because he delights (ranjita) them that he is called “raja” and all dharmas depend on him. It is the ruler who shapes the nature of the age—Krita, Treta, Dvapara or Kali.

Much of what we know later as the Arthashastra is given here. Originally it was called “Danda-niti”, the principles of punishment. Composed of one lakh sections by Brahma, it was condensed by Shiva under the name “Vishalaksha” in ten thousand sections which Indra abridged in five thousand calling it “Bahudantaka”. Brihaspati reduced it to three thousand and that was further edited to one thousand sections by Shukra because of the decreasing life-span of humans.

Beginning with quotations from past savants and 8 stories on the origin and duties of the ruler, Bhishma narrates 19 tales on the core issues of ruling (repeatedly stressing impersonal administration of punishment, careful selection of advisers through fivefold tests and not trusting anyone completely), following up with 8 on what is to be done in extremity, and ending with 9 on expiating sins and the results of harming friends. The methodology adopted is Upanishadic question-and-answer between pupil and teacher. These make up the 173 sections of this tome in which sections 98 to 173 are in prose—the longest prose section in Vyasa’s narrative.

Vyasa narrates to Yudhishthira the “Ashma Gita” narrated to Janaka by the sage Ashma where the root causes of mental anguish are specified as either confused thinking or unexpected calamity, with attachment to material things as a related cause. We also find here the philosophy that is repeated in the Upanishads by Yajnavalkya:

“No one is anyone’s, no one
belongs to anyone but oneself.
Wife, and relative,
And friend—
All travelers, all passers-by
On the road of life…
Whoever you love, will leave you.”

Vyasa also repeats insights from the Gita regarding Time being the real slayer of the armies, and that

“Times are when dharma
starts looking like adharma,
and adharma like dharma.…
In special cases,
even stealing, lying and killing
can be dharma.”

As a telling example, the story of Vishvamitra justifying stealing dog-meat from an untouchable is told: “What is important is to stay alive” because only then can dharma be practiced! If problems arise regarding dharma, a committee of ten experts in the scriptures is to resolve them, or three teachers of dharma.

Vyasa declares that since Yudhishthira got involved in fratricide because of the wicked deeds of others, he is not at fault. There is no sin in killing even gurus who flout their calling because of greed (as with Drona). He advises Yudhishthira to enthrone the surviving kin of the rulers, including daughters if there are no sons, showing compassion to establish peace in the land. This is where the famous verse on when it is permissible to lie occurs which is repeated at least thrice in this parva: to save one’s life or another’s; for one’s guru’s sake; to win over a woman; to arrange a marriage. “Women, diamond and rain-water—these three are always pure.” Even an unfaithful woman becomes pure after her period.

From the standpoint of narrative art, a fresh frame has been introduced in this parva. The Mahabharata’s outermost frame is Sauti narrating it to Shaunaka and his sages in the forest of Naimisha. The next layer is the snake-sacrifice in Takshashila during which Vaishampayana narrates the epic to king Janamejaya in the presence of the author Vyasa, which is what Sauti heard. Now we have a series of concentric layers where several narrators tell Yudhishthira stories, of which the largest is Bhishma’s portion. Nested within Bhishma’s layer are so many tales, and tales-within-tales! The entire narrative structure reminds us of a Chinese Box or a Matroyshka.

Among these akhyanas (tales) are some that stand out. Such a one is Janaka’s queen quite unexpectedly berating him for wishing to abdicate, much as Draupadi does Yudhishthira. Others are animal fables that recur in Panchatantra.

Possibly the most fascinating of Bhishma’s many accounts is the conversation Krishna has with Narada. It is the only passage giving vent to the frustration Krishna experiences—something none of us would imagine, and which remains unknown to most of us who have not read the Shanti Parva fully. The mellifluous free verse transcreation communicates the emotions beautifully. Balarama, Gada, Pradyumna—all are engrossed with themselves, none helps Krishna. Among his quarrelling clansmen he is,

“like a mother of two gamblers:
I want one side to win
I do not want the other to lose.
And the result is that
I am at the receiving end of both.”

The bitter words of relatives “stir fire in my heart.” Narada, after pointing out that this is his own doing because they are all his own relatives, tells him of a weapon “not made of iron, a gentle but heart-piercing weapon” to wash clean their bitter tongues. Those of us who are interested can read section 81 to find out what it is.

The genocide of the warrior-class perpetrated by Parashurama is a significant story Bhishma tells to explain how the “kshatriya varna” had to be restored by Brahmins to protect the polity. The divine right of kings is not just a European and far-Eastern concept. Bhishma equates the ruler with the preserver Vishnu, explaining the sacred nature of his duties. The ruler is the god of fire when he scorches liars; the sun-god when he observes the people and ensures welfare; death when he kills criminals; Yama the judge when he punishes and rewards; the god of wealth Vaishravana when he collects taxes and remunerates. Bhishma also tells the tale of Vena to show that an unrighteous ruler is even killed or removed by the people. There is more than enough guidance available here for our own times—provided we are interested!

A bonus for the reader is the superlative introduction provided by the transcreator, packing into just two pages an amazing amount of profound insight, bringing home to 21st century society the lessons of the ancient past that never cease to be relevant. “Artha”, wealth, is indeed a basic goal of life, but it is not money but the meaning of money—trusteeship—that makes it worthwhile. Without benefiting others, how do I benefit myself? “Kama”, desire or pleasure is an essential ingredient of life, but what is important is to transform lust into love: “both are four-letter words; it’s our disciplined choice that changes one into the other.” Dharma is not just ritualistic religion but spiritual vision where differences of creed vanish. “Moksha” is not only escape from life, but transforming that into liberation for humanity at large. What a world of meaning has been concentrated into these few printed words!

At the end are detailed reviews of the Shalya Parva transcreation and the set of ten DVDs of readings by Prof. Lal from the Adi Parva telecast on Tara TV. Prof. Lal’s rebuttal of Dr. Amartya Sen’s misconception regarding what Krishna says in the Gita is also printed. This volume leaves the discourse on Moksha and the Anushasana Parva untranslated.

Thus ends the massive enterprise a single poet and transcreator of remarkable genius embarked upon in 1968, making transcreating Vyasa the major work of his life, having also covered, before his departure, the lovely ninth and tenth books of the Bhagavata Purana.