Before I read the story, I wondered about the strong tone of a moral injunction, previously found mostly in the texts of Dharmashastra.

While the judgment seems to have included the sentiments that the headline conveys, the premise of the case appears to be different. Kusum Rewatkar (58) of Wardha district had filed a case asking that her husband, from whom she had been separated for over 25 years, to compensate her for the wedding expenses. Basing his ruling on Hindu law, (under which a daughter is entitled to be maintained out of the estate of the father) Justice C L Pangarkar ruled that “(t)he obligation to maintain the daughter and get her married arises from the very existence of the relationship”.

Does this entail a general proposition that the headline (quoted above) or the first paragraph of the IE report suggested!: “The Bombay High Court has held that every father is under obligation to maintain his daughter and get her married.”

What if the daughter doesn’t want to get married?

More broadly though, what are the obligations of a father?

In the face of Uncle Stanley’s devouring garrulousness, as confirmed and free a bachelor as he is, Jayber always finds himself taking up the defense of marriage. Not so much the defense of any particular marriage - not, by a long shot, of Uncle Stanley’s - but of marriage itself, of what it has come to be, for him, a kind of last ditch holy of holies: the possibility that two people might care for each other and know each other better than enemies, and better than strangers happening to be alive at the same time in the same town; and that, with a man and a woman, this caring and knowing might be made by intention, and in the consciousness of all it is, and of all it might be, and all that threatens it. At these times it seems to Jayber that, of all the men in Port William, he’s the most married - not in marriage, but to this ideal of marriage. He is bound in this way, as he is bound, beyond his friendships and his friends, to an ideal of friendship.

These are the last remainders of Jayber’s ideals. He holds to them against the possibility that life will mean nothing and be worth nothing. He is despairing believer in these things, knowing that everything fails. The ideal rides ahead of the real, renewing beyond it, perishing in it-unreachable, surely, but made new over and over again just by hope and by the passage of time; what has not yet failed remains possible. And the ideal, remaining undiminished and perfect, out of reach, makes possible a judgment of failure, and a just grief and sympathy.

In Port William, or beyond or above it, Jayber imagines a kind of heavenly City, in which each house would be built in a marriage and around it, and all the houses would be bound together in friendships, and friendliness would move and join among them like an open street. His living in Port William has been a bearing of the descent of the town from that ideal - as though at the end of each night, out of his mind and his desire, he gives painful birth to the new real morning and the real town - as though he watches the descent of all things from Heaven, like a snowball, into the aimless gap of Uncle Stanley’s mouth. But he is also the adulterer of his marriage, the servant of opposite houses, faithful to both and unfaithful to both-slipping away from his Heavenly City, to which he has sworn his devotion, to become the lover of all the perishing lights and substances of Port William and of the weather over it and of the water under it. After so long, it seems to him that he is the native and occupant of both places, and passes freely between them, and in serving either serves both.

Last week, as I was reading these paragraphs at the Gaylord’s cafe on Piedmont avenue, I witnessed a moving yet strange meeting between an uncle and nephew. Eighteen year old Melvin was driving on Piedmont Avenue and away from Gaylord. I don’t know what made him turn around and look at the cafe, which was on the other side of the street. But notice he did his uncle whom he hadn’t seen in ten years. So he stopped the car in the middle of the street, came running into the cafe and excitedly introduced himself to his uncle Jim, who couldn’t recognize him. How would he? The Melvin he knew was an eight year old boy.

It was very strange to listen to them. Here is a middle aged blackman, sitting in a cafe with his Powerbook and it was obvious that he had kept his distance from all his relatives. Apparently, Jim had fought with his sister but it was clear both he and Melvin liked each other and wanted to be in touch. They had spent the last ten years living in Oakland, within a twenty block radius of each other. I bet they both knew that too but seemed to have reconciled to never meeting. How the hell does that happen? What kind of disfunctional communities do we live in and why do we make peace with that?

Sure, Berry’s Christian roots are very obvious in the last paragraph but what I find striking about Port William and its inhabitants is a simple sense of worthiness and a commitment to keep it. It’s hard to describe it but i surely don’t use worth here either as something quantifiable nor merely in a limited sense of self worth. In Berry though, worth is quite organic and is tied to land, community and work. It seems to me that we quite often compromise on our own quest to achieve worth. May be, it’s hard both in Baghdad and in Oakland. The real rears its ugly head all too frequently but should we lose our ‘despairing belief’ in the ideal?

I don’t want to belabor this point. I just thought these paragraphs from Berry are perhaps worth reading, especially this weekend.

Chicago witnessed the largest demonstration in its history. Deputy Supt. of Police Charles Williams estimated 400,000 people participated in the rally. Organizers claimed half million or more. But today was a day when numbers didn’t matter. What was significant was the act of coming out, by people who weren’t seen, who had chosen to hide and who had just worked and served quietly.

Immigration debate is a hot political wedge issue. It has already been framed in legalistic terms, as a citizenship and national security issue that American nation has to deal with. But it is more complicated and actually has the potential to engender a new debate that could prove to be as influential and significant as the Civil rights moverment.

I have been following the political manouvering on this issue for a while. Politicians and media seem to be intent on making either a legalistic argument that is bent on providing / denying some legal status or an instrumentalist argument, which seeks to demonstrate the value of these illegal aliens to the economy. Unfortunately only the Christian Churches and organizations point out how we all seem to deny dignity of illegal aliens. As I listen to politicians and pundits, I can not help but wonder how frequently we deny the humanity of many, whom we see everyday and who make our lives comfortable.

This ought to be a moment of reflection for America, to think about its present and future. That, however, cannot be only in legalistic terms. America needs to ask itself how it wants to treat its janitors, fruit pickers, nannies, mechanics, construction workers and such, regardless of their status, citizens, legal or illegal aliens. Today’s demonstration has to be about asking that question.

In the days to come, let us talk more on the contours of this debate.

Aside: I will post some photos of the rally tomorrow.

Aside 2: Well, let me just steal Sepoy’s photos for now.

Hence the film sets out to establish Hariscandra’s character as a truthful and generous king, who never refuses anything to any seeker and keeps the welfare of his subjects as his foremost goal. All his actions are geared towards achieving that objective. Hariscandra performs Rajasuya sacrifice and gives away all the wealth he had accumulated until then, including a precious stone that protects him and his subjects from all calamities. It was god Siva himself, who comes in the form of a Brahmin seeker and demands that precious stone along with the fruits of the sacrifice. Against the objections of his ministers, Hariscandra fulfills Siva’s demand, saying:

those who do not desire the welfare of the entire world do not ask for the fruits of sacrifice and even if given, they will not have the capacity to accept.

Vasista, however, realizes that the Brahmin seeker is actually Siva but is comforted in the knowledge that Siva would favor Hariscandra in any test the latter may have to face, even if the protection offered by the stone itself is lost.

Now the scene shifts to Indra’s assembly, where all the gods and more importantly, wise sages have been invited to ‘legislate good practices for the residents of all worlds’ and hence Indra asks:

Is there a sacred ritual (punyavrata), which can be practiced by all men and women to achieve contentment, even without possessing wealth or ascetic prowess, by Kings and ordinary men, scholars or ignorant fools?

Among the sages present, Visvamitra is the most vocal. In the film, (and in Hariscandra Kavya too) and he is presented more like an orthodox Vasista, who is a conservative Brahmin ascetic upholding the varna order; whereas, the puranic Visvamitra is a Ksatriaya king, who willed himself to transcend his varna status and earned renown as a Brahmarshi; he is constantly in conflict with other Brahmarsis, particuarly with Vasista and is known for his unconventional actions. Visvamitra of Hariscandra narratives, however, doesn’t have that radical persona; rather here, he doesn’t believe in human potential but in a hierarchical conception of human nature and society. Snickering at Indra’s question, he asserts that rituals and practices have to be prescribed to each individual, considering their class (varna) and caste status; there is no single ritual that can be practiced by all.

On the contrary, the Brahmin sage Vasista, asserts that there is one ritual that can be practiced by one and all, the practice of telling truth. Vasista further extols the virtues of truth by claiming:

Truth alone accomplishes all the four ends of human life. Truth alone is permanent and there is no dharma beyond Truth. For the creation of all the beings, truth alone is the basis.

Questioning Visvamitra’s skepticism, Vasista pointed out that Hariscandra practices Satya under all circumstances. Visvamitra’s diatribe sets the stage for a wager between the two sages:

Let it be anybody. I am not a bard who praises one and all. This Vasista is the teacher of Iksvaku lineage. Therefore, being loyal to them, he is praising a lowly man and presenting him as a great human being, to win this argument. I do not accept it. Do I not know the nature and politics of humans? Thieving, evil, bad habits, … (kings do) not possess lasting happiness, are intoxicated by wealth, and consumed by desire… if one among such kings is asserted as a truthful person, that is impossible….. (moreover), all will be truthful as long as they possess emperor’s position. They shall all be slaves to truth. …. But when all power is taken away, when they are caught in the hold of poverty and other eight difficulties, then their commitment to truth will become evident.

Vasista then asserts that Hariscandra will remain committed to truth not only in difficult circumstances but also in dreams and even to a commitment made as a joke. This is a significant statement since in Hindi narratives (especially in the play by Bharatendu Hariscandra and in Hindi films), Hariscandra actually gives away his kingdom in his dream. Seeking to remove Indra’s anxieties, Vasista says:

Even if Brahma’s statements are untrue, even if sun and moon fall from their orbit into dirt and disappear, even if sky trembles and stars fall like fire-rain onto earth, even if millions of such jealous Visvamitras create trouble for him everywhere and by all means, even then Hariscandra wouldn’t break his word. If he were to lie, then I will give up Vedic studies, abandon prayer and ascetic practices, remove the tuft and sacred thread, giving up everything and sitting on a donkey and drinking alcohol, I will go southwards, while being abused by other ascetics.

Visvamitra then proclaims his own powers to set his wager with Vasista:

Who are these Brahmarsis and Maharsis? This Visvamitra will shake up the entire universe and turn into powder the five elements and cause total destruction. This Visvamitra is actually Parabrahma himself, who can create an alternative universe (which he had ironically done to accommodate Hariscandra’s own father Trisanku). If I can not break his commitment to truth, then I will grant half the ascetic powers I possess and then establish him as emperor for one thousand years and then subsequently, for 14 manvantaras (divine unit of time) on Indra’s throne.

Hariscandra and Candramati experience ill omens at this time, intimations of travails they are about to experience. As in the Hariscandra Kavya, here too Visvamitra seeks a gift from Hariscandra: a pile of gold as high as a cowry shell when that shell is tossed into the sky by a strong warrior standing on a tall elephant. He leaves that wealth behind but creates wild animals and then traps Hariscandra, who has come to the forest to save his subjects from these animals, through his untouchable daughters. Visvamitra’s obsession elicits the following comment from his disciple Naksatrika:

It is not clear to me whether you have captured Hariscandra or he has captured you. You demanded so much wealth, thinking he wouldn’t grant it, yet he did. Instead of bringing that wealth, you left it with him and then created wild animals. He hunted those animnals but then you separated him from his entourage through trickery and now you seek to seduce him through your daughters.

While his ironic comment has no impact on Visvamitra’s determination, Hariscandra refuses to marry despite Visvamitra’s order; since the latter is a Brahmarsi, his orders are in fact dharmic and the sage asserts that the duty of the king is to follow the orders of ascetics. Hariscandra, however, is committed to his wife and refuses to take a second wife; rather, Hariscandra rhetorically states, he is prepared to give up his kingdom. Visvamitra immediately seeks to take over the kingdom and once the kingdom is given to him in Ayodhya, Visvamitra makes one final effort to dissuade Hariscandra from his path. He offers to return the kingdom, if Hariscandra were to marry his daughters. When Hariscandra is unmoved, finally Visvamitra demands the gift he had left behind in the king’s safekeep; Hariscandra seeks thirty days grace period and goes to Kashi with his wife and son to earn enough wealth to repay the sage.

The next part of the narrative too follows broadly the Hariscandra Kavya, with the exception of two major qualifications to the story that Hunsur Krishnamurthy makes to his script. Nakshatrika is more sympathetic character and I will explain in a later posting how casting a comedian, Narasimharaju, changes our own perception of Naksatrika as a character. Secondly, Virabahu too is a much more colorful character in the movie, who sings a memorable song. More on these specific changes as well as on the question of untouchability itself in a later post.

As we already saw, Hariscandra sells himself, his wife and son, in order to clear all his debts. He refuses to deviate from his path even when his son has to be buried and has to kill his own wife, following the orders of the king. What the film does best is to incorporate popular wisdom and some great dialogue to bring out the nuances of Hariscandra’s commitment to truth. We will look at the dialogues and songs in specific episodes tomorrow. My focus will be primarily on the changes necessitated by a nationalist context, particularly to deal with the theme of untouchability. I would also suggest that Hariscandra himself is turned into a flawless character in the film, precisely addressing what we might consider to be flaws of the character in Hariscandra Kavya. More on all this, tomorrow.

Cast: Rajkumar, Uday Kumar, Narasimharaju, Ashwath, M P Shankar, Pandaribai, Ramadevi
Story: K V Reddi
Music: Pendyala Nagesvararao
Background singers: Ghantasala, P Sushila
Songs, Dialogue and Direction: Hunsur Krishnamurthi

In these earlier posts, I had written on the Sanskritic, puranic versions of the Hariscandra narrative, as well as on the two well known Sanskrit plays by Ksemesvara (Candkausika) and Ramachandra Suri (Satya Hariscandra). Let us turn our attention to Raghavanka’s Hariscandra Kavya and in later postings to the Kannada film Satya Hariscandra. While a new Hariscandra is already being brought into existence by the Puranic narratives, (a Hariscandra whose renown is due to his commitment to truth and not because of other narratives associated with him), and the Sanskrit plays build different aspects of his personality, Raghavanka is perhaps the first author from whom Hariscandra receives ‘epic’ treatment. The film builds on Raghavanka’s story. What we need to focus on here is how Kannada narratives differ from Vedic and Puranic accounts and the values these narratives articulate. My two primary texts were produced in different eras and belong to different genres: first, a 13th century Kannada Kavya, Hariscandra Kavya by Raghavanka and second, a modern Kannada film, Satya Hariscandra. I suggest that Raghavanka provides the framework for future retellings of the story by focusing primarily on the persecution of Harischandra by Visvamitra, ignoring other elements elaborated in vedic, epic and puranic narratives. This focus on Hariscandra’s truthfulness and character make him a paradigmatic figure for the Kannada cultural imagination, to represent a steadfast commitment to values such as truth (satya) and duty (dharma) in the face of suffering. The film Satya Hariscandra, in which Raj Kumar plays the protagonist, recuperates this vision for modern times. I conclude by arguing Harischandra is the prototypical character even in social films, especially (not exclusively) in films acted by Raj Kumar.

I have suggested earlier that Harihara and Raghavanka inaugurate a Saiva narrative tradition. What they create is a narrative (epic) imagination that offers a fascinating engagement with the (human) past, in desi (native) narrative forms. It is quite likely that Tamil Saiva narratives, such as the Periyapurana, offered models for Kannada poets to write on human heroes, particularly devotees from all classes. Harihara wrote hagiographies on more than hundred Saiva devotees, making no distinction on their ideological preferences or their class/caste/linguistic background. Hence, a mystic Allama, a Brahmin minister and patron of Jangamas, Basavanna, Tamil prince Nambi, Tamil devotee Siriyala, who offered the flesh of his own son to Siva, Tamil hunter Kannappa, who plucked his own eye and offered it to Siva – they are all treated in the same way.

If devotion to Siva is at the core of Harihara’s literary imagination, Raghavanka too accepted that vision but he had written his most celebrated work Hariscandra Kavya prior to his radical transformation. Kannada critic G. S. Shivarudrappa suggests that the core thesis here is also a Saiva sensibility and devotion. Raghavanka’s Hariscandra, according to Shivarudrappa, considers Truth as Hara and Hara as Truth. Is Shivarudrappa right? What is truth according to Raghavanka and what is the nature of Hariscandra’s commitment to that truth? What are the consequences of being committed to such a truth?

From an examination of Hariscandra’s commitment to truth flows a second fascinating theme: Hariscandra’s traivails, which can be understood only as a consequence of holding on to ‘his’ truth. Here if we understand his suffering as unfair and unjustified, then a comparison with Job would be appropriate. In a future posting, I would like to focus on an insight that Latin Ameican theologian Gustavo Esteva provides on how Job himself perceived his suffering: Esteva suggests that Job’s relationship with God changed when he realized he wasn’t alone in being subjected to unfair suffering. What is Hariscandra’s attitude towards suffering and how does he respond?

As I raise these questions, I am acutely conscious of the fact that my discussion is primarily in the context of two very specific literary and cinematic representations of an epic character. So let me first offer an outline of Raghavanka’s text today and a summary of the film tomorrow, before analyzing both these narratives at some length.

The story begins, at least the parts salient for our purposes, in the assembly of the king of gods, Indra, who asks: who among the Iksvaku kings is most truthful? Vasista, the guru of Iksvakus (the dynasty which ruled Ayodhya and to which Rama too belongs), names his disciple Hariscandra as being absolutely committed to truth, a claim his bitter rival Visvamitra contests. Recall, that both Vasista and Visvamitra have been traditionally rivals (a theme best explored some other time) and they quarrel in front of all the gods, before entering into a wager.

Determined to prove that Hariscandra would lie and not keep his word, Visvamitra devises various strategies. He tricks Hariscandra into performing Bahusuvarna sacrifice and asks as daksina (gift), a pile of gold as high as a cowry shell when that shell is tossed into the sky by a strong warrior standing on a tall elephant. However, after collecting the gift, he leaves it with Hariscandra for safekeeping and returns to his hermitage, where he embarks on the next phase of his plan. He creates wild animals, which cause immense fear among the subjects, forcing Hariscandra to hunt these animals. Note, unlike in Sanskrit narratives, Hariscandra does not involuntarily go to the forest but is compelled to go. In other words, Visvamitra is the sutradhara, one who devises strategies, creates situations and circumstances, which would make it difficult for Hariscandra to hold on to his truth.

Vasista, who is aware of Visvamitra’s designs, warns Hariscandra not to go near Visvamitra’s hermitage and also insists on Hariscandra visit Virupaksa’s temple in Hampe before leaving. Here is a moment of ‘local’ vision entering into a pan-Indian narrative; otherwise, how would Hariscandra, the king of Ayodhya visit a temple in Hampi? Despite Vasista’s warnings, Hariscandra chases a wild boar, which being Visvamitra’s creation naturally lures Hariscandra towards the herimatge, where the king kills the boar. An angry Visvamitra then creates two matanga (Candala / untouchable girls) who approach Hariscandra, entertain him and ask him to marry them. He flatly refuses by claiming it is beneath his kuladharma (duty to family) to marry them. When they insist, an angry Hariscandra beats them and throws them away, at which point they complain to Visvamitra; in a rage, the sage approaches Hariscandra, kicks him and demands that he marry his daughters. Hariscandra’s refusal is based on his perception of his birth and lineage: having been born into Surya vamsa and Iksvaku kula, he will not marry Candala (untouchable) maidens and go to hell. He rhetorically says that he would rather give up his kingdom instead of marrying them.

Immediately, Visvamitra seizes the moment and asks for the throne; once he receives it, he also demands the earlier gift of gold. When a surprised Hariscandra points out that he has already given away all his possessions to Visvamitra, the sage gets angry and accuses Hariscandra of going back on his promise. The king seeks forty-eight days to repay the loan and prepares to leave for Kashi from the hermitage itself. A surprised Visvamitra attempts to shake Hariscandra’s determination and asks him to return to Ayodhya with him, so that he could convince his subjects to accept Visvamitra as their new ruler. The sage, in fact, hoped that returning to Ayodhya might make Hariscandra change his mind. A determined Harsicandra accompanies Visvamitra to Ayodhya, where he convinces his subjects to be loyal to the sage but then leaves for Kashi along with Chandramati, Lohitasva and minister, Satyakirti.

At this stage, Raghavanka creates a new character Nakshatrika, who has left an indelible mark in the popular imagination and culture due to his capacity to create trouble and make unfair demands. Nakshatrika is a disciple of Visvamitra and is sent by the latter to collect the loan from the king. He is instructed to place obstacles and ensure Hariscandra doesn’t keep his promise. More on Raghavanka’s innovations later.

By the time, they all reach Kashi there is has just one day left to repay the pile of gold Hariscandra owes to Visvamitra. Following Candramati’s suggestion, he sells her to a Brahmin, who is, in fact, Agni acting on Visvamitra’s instructions. Although Visvamitra’s loan is repaid, Naksitrika demands his allowance for the period days he had to spend in Hariscandra’s company, experiencing many hardships. This new demand compels Hariscandra to sell himself to Virabahuka, an untouchable who owns the burial grounds and employs Hariscandra to be the gatekeeper; his charge is to patrol the ground and collect toll from its users. In reality, Virabahuka is Yamadharma, who too is acting according to Visvamitra’s instructions. We will return to this irony that Raghavanka introduces: for Hariscandra a consequence of refusing to marry untouchable maidens is to be the slave of an untouchable.

If Hariscandra has to guard the burial ground, then both Candramati and Lohitasva undergo much humiliation and suffering in the Brahmin household. Soon thereafter, young Lohitasva then dies due to snakebite in the forest, where he was collecting firewood along with his friends. Describing Candramati’s grief, Raghavanka writes some of the most moving verses in all of Kannada literature. A grief stricken Candramati brings the body of her young son to the burial ground in the night, since her masters wouldn’t’ allow her to leave before finishing her housework; but Hariscandra wouldn’t let her cremate the body, if she is unable to give the cloth and rent due to Hariscandra and his master. At that moment, he also realizes the identity of the dead boy and collapses, yet he refuses to change his stance.

When a reluctant Candramati returns to get the rent, Visvamitra creates a new wrinkle; he has the prince of Kashi killed and placed on her path. When she is attracted by the cry of the young prince and walks over to the source of the sound, thinking delusionally her own son was calling her. She is captured by the soldiers, and brought to the king of Kashi, who finds her guilty and sentences her to death. Hariscandra, being Virabahuka’s slave, is asked to cut her head and he is determined to do just the same, refusing Visvamitra’s seductive offers. Hariscandra says: ‘it is enough if it is said Hariscandra did not abandon truth’ and weilds the axe. Gods, led by Siva, appear and restore order. Visvamitra praises Hariscandra’s commitment to truth, returns the kingdom to Hariscandra, apart from giving him half the merit he had acquired from ascetic practices.

Tomorrow, I will look at the film, Satya Hariscandra and provide a summary of the plot. We could then discuss the two narratives and their differing contexts.

In Sanskrit, Markandeya purana and in particular, Devibhagavata purana, include all three accounts found in Sanksrit sources, including Brahmanas and puranas. Although minor variations and differences exist, our focus of course will not be with these variations here. Instead, we will explore the third Hariscandra account, that appears here for the first time. The dates of these texts are not precisely known but they must have been composed in the early medieval period.

In Markandeya purana (MP), Hariscandra offends Visvamitra by disturbing his penance and by causing him to lose vidyatraya (three vidyas/knowledges) that Visvamitra had coveted. Devibhagavata purana offers a second cause by offering a second explanation; in an incident that occurs before the offense, Vasista praises Hariscandra in Indra’s assembly. Visvamitra, who was unhappy with Hariscandra’s behavior during the Sunashepa episode, contested Vasista’s claims and vowed to prove him to be a liar. DBP also claims that Hariscandra rescued a woman, who was being pursued by Visvamitra causing offense him.

Both in MP and DBP, Hariscandra offers his kingdom to placate Visvamitra, and the latter accepts the gift, but also seeks Daksina (ritual offering) along with the gift. Hariscandra then goes to Kashi with his wife and son, where he sells his entire family in order to pay Visvamitra. In MP then, his young son Rohita dies due to a snake bite and when the grief stricken couple decide to enter into the funeral pyre, gods appear to end the test.

DBP, however, offers additional details and a variation. Here Dharma, who comes in the guise of a Kapalika, offers Haricandra magical powers to resolve his problems, which the latter refuses. Further, after Rohita dies due to snake bite, his mother Shaibye is found by soldiers in the streets of Kashi, crying over son’s body at midnight. She is accused of being a demoness, who kills young children and eats their flesh; she is sentenced to be killed and Hariscandra who works at the burial ground is ordered to cut her head off. When the husband and wife discover each other’s identities, they both decide to enter into fire at which time gods intervene to revive Rohita and take Hariscandra to heaven along with his subjects. Note that in both the puranic narratives, Hariscandra defaults on his responsibilities and his word to his master, by attempting to enter into the funeral pyre.

Ksemesvara’s play Candakausika is the first known independent literary work on Hariscandra. This early medieval play (possibly around 10-11th century) relies on these two puranic narratives for its outline but adds some dramatic elements. Among other sources, I have relied on a synopsis provided by my friend Adheesh for the following outline. As in the two puranas, here too Hariscandra offends Visvamitra, by disturbing his penance while hunting a boar, who is really Vighnaraja (Ganapati, the lord of obstacles). To appease Visvamitra, Hariscandra offers his kingdom and then leaves for Kashi to earn enough to give dakshina as well. Note that the quarrel between Vasista and Visvamitra is not an issue here.

In Kashi, Hariscandra sells his wife to a Brahmin (who is in fact Siva in the guise of a Brahmin) and then sells himself to a Candala (untouchable), who in reality is god Dharma; Hariscandra is assigned to be a guard at the burial ground. The play focuses on the creatures and happenings at the burial ground, including the temptation of acquiring magical skills that we noticed in DBP. Then Rohitsva, the son, dies from snake bite and when Shaivya brings him to the burial ground Hariscandra recognizes them. Even then, he demands that she give him the clothes as per the custom and while giving the clothes, she recognizes his hand. Gods praise Harsicandra for his steadfastness and take him along with his subjects to heaven. Note that while Visvamitra does play the role of a miscreant, Hariscandra is tested more by Dharma.

Another Sanskrit text on Hariscandra is a Jain play, Satya Hariscandra, written by Ramachandrasuri (12th century), a disciple of Hemachandra, the well known Jain author from Gujarat. Not surprisingly, the story is told from a Jain perspective and violence plays a more prominent role than truth, thus necessitating major changes to the story. This is a trend we notice in Jain retellings of all the major epic and puranic narratives. Visvamitra has no role to play in this play; rather, Hariscandra, who kills a pregnant deer while hunting near a hermitage, gives up his kingdom reparation to the Kulapati, head of the hermitage. He also has to pay one hundred thousand gold coins, which he would earn by selling himself and his wife. In Kashi, however, people are dying from an epidemic, for which Hariscandra’s wife Sutara is held responsible; before she is punished, a parrot identifies them both and proves that Sutara is innocent, much to the disappointment of an exorcist. Ramachandra Suri also introduces one more variant here, by creating a scene in which Hariscandra offers his flesh to a celestial being, in the place of the prince of Kashi. But the disciples of the Kulapati to whom Hariscandra owes one lakh gold coins, recognize him, treat his wounds and save him. Finally, as in other stories, here too Rohita is killed of snake bite and when Hariscandra forcibly takes the cloth from the dead body, he finds flowers instead of his son. Gods appear and reveal that they subjected Hariscandra to an imaginary test; he returns to his kingdom and rules it for a long time.

I outlined the Jain narrative to point out how Jain imagination deals with values such as truth and ahimsa (non-violence); we will return to a comparative analysis after I write about Raghavanka. What I should point out at the end of a survey of these Sanskrit accounts is that in Hariscandra story isn’t the subject of an epic imagination in Sanskrit. For that we have to turn to Kannada, which produced the first epic narrative on Hariscandra. We will revisit the question of truth vs devotion again and ask ourselves: how does epic imagination deal with the question of truth? What is the social consciousness that guides Hariscandra’s commitment to truth?

It is said that Chavundaraya commissioned the Bahubali image carved to fulfill his mother’s desire. Afterwards, he became very proud of his accomplishment, at having such a monumental statue created. So at the first ritual head bath, after a great deal of water and milk had been poured on the statue, even the upper body and navel area wasn’t wet, let alone the entire body. When Chavundarya began wondering, Jain goddess Kushmandinidevi came in the guise of an old woman, carrying milk in Gullekayi, a vegetable which is in the form of a small bowl. An unrepentant Chavundaraya made caustic and derogatory remarks against her, when she asked to be allowed to perform the rutal; but when the old woman poured milk from her bowl, not only the entire statue was covered with milk, but the overflow reached the bottom of the Indragiri hill.

Apparently, Chavundaraya became a modest and egoless person after witnessing this miracle. I am not sure whether that lesson has been learnt by us, the enthusiastic pourers of milk and honey, sandal paste and ghee. As I wrote yesterday, what Bahubali stands for is a question that needs a proper response.

From Chavundaraya, let us make our transition to Satya Hariscandra, someone known for his commitment not only to truth, modesty and dignified bearing.

This will be Satya Hariscandra week. I need to write a conference paper on Hariscandra and want to share my notes with you all. My twin goals will be to write about Raghavanka’s Hariscandra Kavya and review Rajkumar’s film, Satya Hariscandra, as part of the Sundays with Dr. Rajkumar series. It would help to have the background of the first major kavya (epic poem) in any language on Hariscandra, to see how it influenced Kannada literary imagination, before we turn to the film. Today let me write about the antecedents of Hariscandra story in Sanskrit narratives.

Recently, I did two postings on Raghavanka’s differences with Harihara on the purpose of literature. In contrast to Harihara’s exclusive focus on Siva and men of Siva, Raghavanka has a slogan: Hara is truth and truth is Hara. It is that message which he wants to convey through Hariscandra Kavya.

Interestingly enough, but not surprisingly, three different Hariscandra narratives are known to us from Vedic, epic and puranic accounts. The first account found mainly in Aitareya Brahmana but also in Samkhyayana Srautasutra and Vedartha Dipika, relates to Hariscandra’s quest for a son, whom he obtains after promising Varuna that he would sacrifice him. After Rohita was born, he pleaded one excuse after another, postponing the sacrifice. Upon learning his father’s promise, Rohita left home and as per Indra’s advice, wandered for many years in the forest until he bought a replacement in the form of Sunashepa, the son of Ajigarta to be sacrificed instead of him. Sunashepa is saved by sage Visvamitra, who adopts him and calls him Devarata. In this version, Hariscandra comes across as a flawed character, who in fact doesn’t keep his promise to Varuna; instead, he is looking for an easy way out.

The epics, Mahabharata in particular, remember Hariscandra as a king who performed Rajasuya sacrifice.

A second account focuses on Hariscandra’s ancestors, primarily his father Satyavrata Trisanku, who as a young man had been thrown out of the kingdom by his father for having stolen a young woman, who was about to marry. While he was in exile, he protected and supported sage Visvamitra’s family, as the latter was performing penance. Once, when he couldn’t find any food, Satyavrata killed Vasista’s cow and fed all his dependents. Vasista cursed him to become an untouchable and he came to be known as Trisanku for the three sins he had committed. Trisanku wanted to go to heaven with his own body, which was facilitated by Visvamitra; when the gods wouldn’t allow him inside heaven, Visvamitra created a separate heaven for him. While aspects of this story will be relevant for our discussion later on, please note that Hariscandra has no role to play in these narratives. The only relevant information here is that Trisanku is Hariscandra’s father. Both these stories deserve a detailed analysis, which I shall add to my to do list.

Our primary concern here is with the third narrative, which describes the travails of Hariscandra, as he seeks to hold on to his commitment to truth. Many versions of this story appear briefly in the Devi Bhagavata Purana, Markandeya Purana and in two Sanskrit plays.Tomorrow, I will consider outlines of the story in these Sanskrit sources and discuss how Raghavanka differs from them.

On February 8th, milk, honey, ghee, sacred water, tender coconut, flowers from many countries brought in special aircraft to Bengaluru will all be poured on the head of a 57 ft tall nude Bahubali statue. Deccan Herald reports:

On each Mahamastakabhisheka, 504 litres of water, 350 litres of milk, 300 litres of sugar cane juice, 350 litres of coconut water, 20 kg of sandalwood, 5 kg of herbal mixture, 100 kg rice powder and 50 kg turmeric powder are poured on the statue.

Hundreds of thousands of Jain devotees from all parts of the world congregate to witness and take part in the spectacle. Roads have been done up and a new rail service has been started from Hassan to Sravanabelagola. For those who can not make it to Sravanabelagola, there is a virtual abhisheka option: feel free to visit the site and perform an abhisheka.

Built around 980 AD by Chavundaraya (or Chamundaraya), the great minister of Ganga kings and a Kannada author of some repute, this great statue on top of a small hillock is an engineering marvel and needless to say, a sight to behold. It celebrates the great Jain ascetic Bahubali and his sacrifice. I should do a posting on what is one of my favorite stories, the war between brothers, Bharata and Bahubali, especially to point out how Jain imagination deals with the question of violence in comparison with Mahabharata. Bharata, who wants to become an emperor and conquer the entire world, is resisted by his brother Bahubali. Instead of the two armies fighting with each other, the two brothers compete in three non-violent forms of fighting: dristiyuddha (staring contest), jalayuddha (water-figting) and mallayuddha (wrestling). Bahubali defeated his elder brother but then repented his impulse to fight, as he realized the futility of his own victory and his brother’s quest. He renounced the world and practiced severe asceticism, which this image represents. Of course, the story is much more fascinating and requires to be treated at length.

In my South Asian Civilization class, each time we discuss Jainism, my students are struck by the ascetic impulse of rich Jains. In particular, we have often talked about a particular wealthy merchant from Ahmedabad in the early 1990s, who sat on an elephant and threw gold coins to the crowd, thus giving away his wealth before he embraced asceticism. It seems difficult to reconcile the effort put into acquiring wealth and towards a materialist life, which is then abandoned the moment a Jain realizes the futility of our materialist aims. Such realization could be brought about by anything: sighting a gray hair, for instance. Or the loss of a loved one. Here again is a theme for another posting.

Sravanabelagola also is a place of much historical significance. In the third century BC, Mauryan emperor Chandraguta Maurya is reputed to have come here with his teacher, Bhadrabahu, to spend his last few days. Since then, it has been a major center for Jain monks, who lived in the caves of Indragiri and Candragiri. Numerous inscriptions at Sravanabelagola provide a rich description of the history of the region.

Located in the middle of the Land of Lime, Sravanabelagola is also on my way to my village, Nimbehalli and so this is a place I would visit at least twice or thrice a year. Many years ago, I spent a couple of days with my dear friends, Jayaram Raipura and Byasdeb Dasgupta, walking through every inch of that town. Jayaram desperately wanted to believe that all of us, inhabitants of the Land of Lime, were Jains about a thousand years ago and slowly became adherents of Saiva and Vaisnava traditions, in the post-Ramanuja phase, after the 12th century. Jains were quite possibly influential but in the absence of inscriptions, let alone ethnographies, it is difficult to either accept or question his theory. I have of course delighted in questioning him. Needless to say, the memories of that visit still linger in my mind. So does a recent visit with my advisor, Prof. Sheldon Pollock and his daughter Nira.

For the people of Sravanabelagola, this is an opportunity to make some extra cash, which they do by renting out their homes and fields, where tents are erected. May they attain prosperity.

Both Dasimayya and Allama obviously belong to a pre-ropeway, pre-railways era, when pilgrimage represented a long, often difficult journey. The following vacanas contain reflections on both pilgrimage and the nature of devotion itself.

Dasimayya, 94

What does it matter
if the fox roams
all over the Jambu island?
Will he ever stand amazed
in meditation of the Lord?
Does it matter if he wanders
all over the globe
and bathes in a million rivers?

A pilgrim who’s not one with you,
Ramanatha,
roams the world
like a circus man.

Dasimayya’s fox at least does the pilgrimage the hard way and actually visits the punyaksetras (sacred spaces) even if it doesn’t have the capacity to stand in amazement and meditate. How many of us, devotees visiting Tirupati, can with a clear conscience say that our devotion isn’t instrumental and the objective of our pilgrimage is to meditate at that sacred place, to seek to be one with the lord.

Dasimayya, 42:

A man filled grain
in a tattered sack
and walked all night
fearing the toll-gates

but the grain went through the tatters
and all he got was the gunny sack.

It is thus
with the devotion
of the faint-hearted

O Ramanatha.

Not only do we go to Tirupati to bribe our gods and seek favors, our devotion itself is suspect. Dasimayya’s wonderful image of an empty sack aptly characterizes our journey through life. Our fears are anxieties over insignificant demands that life makes on us, be they taxes and tolls. As Dasimayya and Allama repeatedly say if we do not seek to be one with Siva, then all our rituals and pilgrimages do not matter. I would in fact extend this argument and suggest that same quest should be our goal within human society too.

Dasimayya, 98

To the utterly at-one with Siva

there’s no dawn,
no new moon,
no noonday,
nor equinoxes,
nor sunsets,
nor full moons;

his front yard
is the true Benares,

O Ramanatha.

It is here that Dasimayya makes a radical suggestion: for a true devotee, his front yard itself would be Tirupati or Benaras. He needn’t go anywhere else.

Allama, 959

Feed the poor
tell the truth
make water-places
for the thirsty
and build tanks for a town -

you may then go to heaven
after death, but you’ll get nowhere
near the truth of Our Lord.

And the man who knows Our Lord,
he gets no results.

Like Dasimayya, Allama too consistently argues for an advaitin position: to realize the unity of jiva (living being) with Siva. Here he isn’t speaking of pilgrimages but in fact Allama is even suspicious of all acts of charity and compassion that all religions valorise. He doesn’t believe those acts - and even being truthful - would enable a devotee to understand the truth of Siva. Allama advocates attaining a state of being where the knowledge of the truth of Siva takes us beyond all results. That is, a devotee who understands the truth of Siva doesn’t care about results.

To me, this represents a simple quest: to overcome instrumentality in our lives. Our ideals and actions aren’t motivated by a desire to attain anything. We don’t tell truth, build tanks or quench the thirst and hunger of the needy to attain any merit. Allama completely rejects the premise of Karma theory. For Allama, doing the right thing isn’t the path that leads to the truth of Siva. Moreover, the devotee who has the knowledge of Siva has already moved beyond results.

For over twenty years now, a debate has been raging over constructing a ropeway to reach India’s richest temple, but objections have been raised from many quarters, including neighboring villagers and Tirupati priests. A. Devarajan summarised the controversy in The Hindu last month. This project has now been revived after the new Congress government came to power. The State tourism department also wants to maximize the tourism potential of Tirupati, by building what could only be described as an entertainment complex.

M. Somasekhar has another report in the Businessline on the proposed ropeway and its execution. A consortium led by Balaji Tourism in which Austrian major ropeway building company, Dopple Mayr has 26 per cent equity, will build the project on a build, operate and transfer basis (BOT).

In light of the objections, let me pose a Gandhian question: how should a pilgrm get to a place of worship? Gandhi, if you recall from Hind Swaraj, makes the case for walking everywhere. His specific examples refer to pilgrimages to Kashi, which in the old days could only be reached by foot; hence a pilgrimage to Kashi (or any other place for that matter) couldn’t be done easily and in a hurry. In fact, Gandhi was critical of railway travel (and the speed it represented) not only for pilgrimages but also for regular commute. He insisted to those who lived with him in his South African ashrams (Phoenix and Tolstoy farms) that they should walk to the nearby cities such as Johannesburg, especially if the travel was for pleasure.

Should pilgrims quickly ascend the hill, and enjoy the panaromic view of the hills, as they climb up? Is their time so precious that they can not even afford to walk a few miles to reach the temple? Does the ropeway make the flow of tourist traffic anymore efficient?

Let us consider other obejctions raised by various people. The priests themselves were opposed this saying devotees in the ropeway would be at a greater height than the diety and the temple. Further, they objected to the misuse and abuse of airspace over the temple citing sastric references. As Devarajan noted:

“The pundits quoting verses argue how any interference into the holy airspace on the hills by human elements would be a sacrilege on the plea that the space is all the time used by the celestial bodies for their movement on the Lord’s abode.”

This, even for an agnostic, is a strong argument. I don’t know whether there are celestial bodies and whether we impede their movements through our movements but the spirit behind the argument asks us to respect the space and environment of Tirumala hills. Shouldn’t we also not be slaves to our comfort and desire for speed but use temples and sacred spaces to restrain ourselves in at least such settings.

In Sravanabelagola, where in less than two weeks hundreds of thousands will assemble for the mahamastakabhisheka ritual (I will do a posting on this next week), there have been persistent demands from the Jain monks to build a ropeway. My friend Ravi Gundurao has many stories to share on this controversy but the issues here are similar. The Karnataka state government too seems to share the enthusiasm of Jain monks but the fly in the soup here is the Archaelogical Survey of India. Stories of contracts given to senior bureaucrats and intimidating phone calls to ASI officers have been doing the rounds but again let us ask ourselves: do we need a ropeway to climb up 600 steps? As efficient as a ropeway is and however helpful it is to maximise tourism potential, are there efficient alternatives? Is the heritage value of the site any consideration here at all?

More than anything else, should we be in a hurry when we seek to meet gods? Should we be concerned about our comfort and convenience in the presence of gods?

Let us talk about pilgrimages, of all variety. Actually, this is an excuse to talk about our conduct too.