[[Mohan K.V 2013-04-06, 21:19:31 Source]]
सदास्वाद
स्वेच्छा-भङ्गुर-भाग्य-मेघ-तडितः शक्या न रोद्धुं श्रियः
(svecchā-bhaṅgura-bhāgya-megha-taḍitaḥ śakyā na roddhuṃ śriyaḥ)
Meaning
“Riches are like strokes of lightning, which originate on the rain-clouds of luck, and which bend and twist by only their own will; they cannot be controlled.” This is an incredible dense image in one very tightsamāsa. First, rain-clouds are themselves dynamic, short-lived and unpredictable. On them are even more dynamic, short-lived and unpredictable bursts of lightning. These bursts are bent and twisted in unimaginable ways, and at this level of detail one can only say that they have a life of their own. Riches are like these bursts of lightning, and by now the poet has set it up so well with this one word that he barely even needs to finish the sentence! Who is this wordsmith? Read on!
Context
Today’s phrase is taken from the Vikramāṅka-deva-carita of Vidyāpati Bilhaṇa.Bilhaṇawas a Kashmiri poet who lived about 900 years ago. He is a worthy subject of study for three reasons: his wide travel, the eventfulness of his times and his occasional flashes of sheer poetic brilliance. Let us consider the first. After receiving his education in Kashmir, he set out on a wide arc of travel covering many places of learning like Mathura, Kannauj, Prayag, Kashi, Dhara, Somanath, and finally arrived at the court of the great Kalyani Chalukya king of the south, Vikramaditya VI. We get an idea of the kind of unity-in-diversity that existed even back then, where a Sanskrit pandit could freely traverse the land and take up a post pretty much anywhere.
It is here that the eventfulness of our poet’s times come in.Vikramaditya VI was a powerful ruler, and one of the first to bring a unified, central administration in South India for many centuries. Every aspect of society, from the local economy, to trans-oceanic trade, to the arts, flourished under him. Literature in both the native Kannada and the learned Sanskrit was very strongly encouraged, and this king even has perhaps the highest number of surviving inscriptions in all of the medieval period. In his court, a scholar by nameVijñāneśvara wrote a commentarycalled the Mitākṣaraon a dharmic text relating to Gupta-period (~400 CE) law. Like most commentaries, this was meant to be an academic exercise where the author explained his interpretation of the text.
Meanwhile, nearly 700 years later, the East India company was desperately searching for a code of “local laws” and one of its clerks, Henry Thomas Colebrooke, translated this text to English (along with another similar commentary, called the Dāyabhāga). The British mistakenly assumed that these were the laws of land, instead of realizing that they were merely interpretations of one of many texts. In the well-studied colonial strategy of Objectification, the British then applied these translated works in ways that most benefited them. The insidious power of laws can never be underestimated; after all, as the famous German jurist Rudolf von Jhering said when speaking of the profusion of Roman ideas in virtually every modern legal system: “Rome conquered the world three times: first by her armies, second by her religion, third by her law. This third conquest, most pacific of all, is perhaps the most surpassing of all”.
We are still suffering the consequences of this other silent conquest of the British, and the horrible mess that is the present Indian judicial system owes its tangles to it in some part. The weight of history can be oppressive indeed!
Let us now turn to the third of our poet’s qualities,his occasional flashes of sheer brilliance.Bilhaṇa is most famous for a work called the Caura-pañcāśika (The Thief’s Fifty Verses). According to legend, the poet and a princess fell in love. Shortly, they were discovered by the king and the poet was thrown into prison. While awaiting judgement,not knowing whether he would be sent into exile or death,he wrote this poem, a sensuous recollection of his happy times. Most verses are physical descriptions that are rather mediocre, but a few touch the emotional plane and are immortal:
अद्यापि तां मयि समीप-कवाट-लीने
मन्-मार्ग-मुक्त-दृशम् आनन-दत्त-हस्ताम् ।
मद्-गोत्र-लिङ्गित-पदं मृदु-काकलीभिः
किंचित् च गातु-मनसं मनसा स्मरामि ।।
adyāpi tāṃ mayi samīpa-kavāṭa-līne
man-mārga-mukta-dṛśam ānana-datta-hastām |
mad-gotra-liṅgita-padaṃ mṛdu-kākalībhiḥ
kiṃcit ca gātu-manasaṃ manasā smarāmi ||
“Even today, I think of the moment when I was hiding behind the door,
and she, resting her face on her hands, was looking at the path I usually took.
She was gently humming to herself
a song with my name in it.”
All fifty poems are in the vasanta-tilaka metre, and begin and end the same way (adyāpi tāṃ…smarāmi). The king’s heart, the legend continues, melted upon hearing this lament, andBilhaṇa was pardoned. We can only speculate that the king had not read the Amaru-śataka or theGāhā sattasa’i: works dealing with the same ideas but vastly superior in both form and content :-)
The most substantial work ofBilhaṇa’s is theVikramāṅka-deva-carita, a hagiography of his patronVikramaditya VI. There isn’t much to the story – just the usual succession troubles, some wars with the neighbors, marriages, births and deaths – and even then there is much bowdlerizing and white-washing going on; in spite of this, the poet does shine. For example, in the first canto he describes the king’s victory over the Chola king:
चोलस्य यद् भीति-पलायितस्य भाल-त्वचं कण्टकिनो वनान्ताः ।
अद्यापि किं वाऽनुभविष्यतीति व्यापाटयन् द्रष्टुम् इवाक्षराणि ।1.116।
colasya yad bhīti-palāyitasya bhāla-tvacaṃ kaṇṭakino vanāntāḥ |
adyāpi kiṃ vā’nubhaviṣyatīti vyāpāṭayan draṣṭum ivākṣarāṇi |1.116|
“As the Chola was running away in fear, the thorns of the forest tore at his forehead, as if curious to know, ‘What more does he have to experience?’”. It’s commonly held that a man’s fate is written on his forehead. Having seen the Chola’s disgraceful defeat, even the thorns of the forest were curious to know if there was anything more he had to experience, and so tore out his forehead skin to check for themselves!
Today’s phrase is from the last canto, whereBilhaṇaexhorts kings to encourage poets:
स्वेच्छा-भङ्गुर-भाग्य-मेघ-तडितः शक्या न रोद्धुं श्रियः
प्राणानां सततं प्रयाण-पटह-श्रद्धा न विश्राम्यति ।
त्राणं येऽत्र यशोमये वपुषि वः कुर्वन्ति काव्यामृतैः
तान् आराध्य गुरून् विधत्त सुकवीन् निर्गर्वम् उर्वीश्वराः |18.106|
svecchā-bhaṅgura-bhāgya-megha-taḍitaḥ śakyā na roddhuṃ śriyaḥ
prāṇānāṃ satataṃ prayāṇa-paṭaha-śraddhā na viśrāmyati |
trāṇaṃ ye’tra yaśomaye vapuṣi vaḥ kurvanti kāvyāmṛtaiḥ
tān ārādhya gurūn vidhatta sukavīn nirgarvam urvīśvarāḥ |18.106|
“Riches are like strokes of lightning, which are bent and twisting by only their own will, and which originate on the rain-clouds of luck; they cannot be controlled.
The very breaths themselves appear to be devoted to the incessant beating of the departure-drum.
Therefore, O Kings, give up pride and seek those poets
Who vitalize your fame by infusing the ambrosia of poetry!”
The sheer density of Sanskrit is exhilarating!
Thought for today
Bilhaṇa’s next verse appears to be very relevant to us today:
हे राजानः त्यजत सुकवि-प्रेम-बन्धे विरोधम्
शुद्धा कीर्तिः स्फुरति भवता नूनम् एतत्-प्रसादात् ।
तुष्टैः बद्धं तद् अलघु रघु-स्वामिनः सच्चरित्रं
क्रुद्धैः नीतः त्रिभुवन-जयी हास्य-मार्गं दशास्यः |18.107|
he rājānaḥ tyajata sukavi-prema-bandhe virodham
śuddhā kīrtiḥ sphurati bhavatā nūnam etat-prasādāt |
tuṣṭaiḥ baddhaṃ tad alaghu raghu-svāminaḥ saccaritraṃ
kruddhaiḥ nītaḥ tribhuvana-jayī hāsya-mārgaṃ daśāsyaḥ|18.107|
“O Kings! Let go your aversion to poets!
Your fame shall grow only by their grace!
When pleased, they composed the grave and beautiful life of Rama;
when angry, they made even the ten-headed Ravana, the victor of the three worlds, an object of derision!”
To anybody familiar with the influence of the media today, these are very wise words!
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