The Jain Mahabharata

Oral renditions of the Mahabharata were so popular among people that even the Jains chose to tell its story.

The Jaina version however varies significantly from the Vyasa version we are familiar with. For example, unlike in Vyasa’s epic, the

Kurukshetra battle takes place between Krishna and Jarasandha, who was Krishna’s arch enemy.

And that’s just one of the several small and big differences between the Jaina and Vyasa’s versions of the epic.

Curious to know more? Click the video to listen in…

We love the Ramayana because it upholds our family system

AK Ramanujan, the great folklorist from India collected  a folktale in which a story and a song once escaped from the mouth of a sleeping woman frustrated that she refused to share them with others. The next morning, when she woke up, she had forgotten both the story and the song that she had kept all to herself.  

This folktale illustrates the importance of story-telling for Indians. Stories have a compelling need to be told, listened to and shared. With time, as these stories get told and retold innumerable times in different formats, they evolve into a tradition. 

And if there is one story that has been told, retold and continues to be narrated relentlessly some 2,000 years after its composition, it is the Ramayana. No other piece of world literature has fired the collective imagination of a people as much as Ramayana has.  

Great epics were composed in Greek (Illiad and Odyssey) and Akkadian (the Sumerian epic of Gilgamesh) too. But today, they remain merely as distant memories from a forgotten past. Whereas, Ramayana remains a living tradition and continues to fascinate and enrich the minds of every passing generation.

Ramayana, the first Indian epic

In the Indian culture, the Valmiki Ramayana, dated to approximately 3rd century BCE, is considered the Adi Kavya or the first poetic composition in Sanskrit of epic proportions. No other composition earlier had had the vastness or richness of the plot that Ramayana had.  No other story had reflected the ethics and value system of a society as the story of Rama did.

Everyone loves a good tragedy, as Aristotle’s idea of catharsis would tell us. The most enduring stories told, we often find, are either tragedies or love stories. Ramayana, brimming with karuna rasa, was both – a tragic love-story – and therein lay its eternal appeal. The message that God too was bound by the laws of destiny and suffered very human problems struck a chord with the common man facing societal pressures and challenges.

How the epic spread across the Indian subcontinent….

As Adi Kavya, Ramayana became the first or the basic template of a story for all future stories and epics. Several later mythological compositions and religious texts borrowed the textual template from Ramayana. The influence of Ramayana was so profound that almost all the Hindu religious literature ever composed including the Mahabharata and the Shaiva and Vaishnava Puranas narrate the story of Rama.

But imitation, as they say, is the best form of flattery. Valmiki’s composition set forth an explosion of texts, in Sanskrit, Prakrit as well all as the vernacular resulting in at least 300 different retellings of the epic. With every retelling, Rama’s story diffused into the local culture and gradually emerged as the common denominator that united people of diverse ethnicity and culture across the Indian subcontinent.

Ramayana presented the retellers with a staple story and a set of archetypal characters that were suitably altered to fit the milieu. The language changed, the names changed, the relationships between the cameos changed, but the key characters (Rama, Sita, Lakshmana, Hanuman and Ravana) and episodes from the epic more or less remained the same.

The mode of transmission of the Ramayana was not all textual. Apart from oral renditions, the story of Rama reached the largely illiterate audience in the form of folk and classical dances, songs, theatre, shadow-plays that used puppets, etc. The Ramayana was also presented as the theatrical re-enactment of Rama’s life (Ramlila) and through scroll painting traditions (that support oral story telling with visual props) such as the Phad tradition from Bhilwara, Rajasthan and Kalamkari painting tradition from Kalahasti, Andhra Pradesh. 

These art forms borrowed the epic’s basic idea and adapted it to suit the local belief systems, social structure and values. Characters such as Lakshmana and Shurpanaka were assimilated into the native culture and embedded into the local tales, where they freely intermingled with other indigenous characters.  For instance, in the Phad story telling tradition, the protagonist Papuji is believed to have been Lakshmana in his previous birth and had married Shurpanakha.

Architecture too developed around the characters and episodes from the epic. The relief at the Prambanan temple complex at Java depicting episodes from the Ramayana and the relief work showing Ravana trying to lift Mount Kailash at Ellora caves are some of the finest examples of story-telling in stone, that were inspired by the epic.

From classical to folk renderings, the story gradually travelled inlands and diffused into the mythology of the tribals too. Gond Ramayani and Bhil Ramayan are two well-known tribal versions of the epic. While Gond Ramayani narrates the story of Lakshmana’s hunt for a bride, in the Bhil Ramayana, Ravana does not battle Rama but returns Sita to him after realizing his blunder.

In a sense, Ramayana, which literally means the path of Rama, is a travel story. Rama travels through a very long route called the Dakshinapath that ran from Ayodhya in the north to Rameshwaram in the south, on his search for Sita.

Even as Rama’s adventures took him down south, Valmiki wove into it previously unknown details of the geography, and flora and fauna of peninsular India, along with an account of the lifestyles of the smaller clans and tribes that inhabited these parts. In as much as these details added to the epic’s novelty value, they also widened the reach of the epic through associations of certain sacred geography with specific episodes from the epic.

….and beyond

With the spread of Buddhism and the colonization of lands such as Sinhala (modern day Sri Lanka) by Indian kings, the story of Rama entered the South East Asian kingdoms.  Late professor and Sanskrit scholar Dr. V Raghavan once pointed out that the epic’s popularity in the predominantly ‘Buddhist’ South East Asia can be attributed to its seamless integration into Buddhist writings where Rama was depicted as a Boddhisatva. The Dasharatha Jataka, the Buddhist retelling of the epic, leveraged on the persona of Rama to propagate Dhamma.

Just as Tulsi’s idea of Ramarajya led to the establishment of Rama as the archetypal king for the Indian ruling class, in Thailand, the monarch takes on the title of Rama and rules in his name. In certain Sanskrit inscriptions from Champa (in today’s Southern Vietnam) and Cambodia, we find the local king being compared to Rama.

But this is not to say Rama, was the protagonist in all the versions of the epic. In several versions, the heroic role of vanquishing Ravana was often handed over to Lakshmana, who was perceived to be the more macho of the two. The values that Rama stood for in India (Maryada purushottam and eka patnivrata) were not necessarily endorsed or cherished by every society. In several south Asian versions of the epic, Rama’s commitment and fidelity to Sita is not upheld as a desirable trait and was looked upon as an oddity and often discounted.  However, these variations, sometimes small and sometimes significant, enabled the epic to cut across cultural barriers and find root in diverse societies having different value systems.

 What makes Ramayana a timeless classic?

Whatever be the composer’s raison d’être for the epic, the popularity and timelessness of this evergreen epic can be pinned down to a single notion – its unequivocal endorsement of the family system. For the society at large, the story of Rama is one of domestic relationships, of familial obligations, fraternal bonds and romantic love. Indian women, for instance, identify with the character of Sita, and the sufferings she underwent, which finds reflection in the Telugu folk song tradition and in the Madhubhani paintings of Bihar. Sita bidai, the departure of Sita for her in-laws’ house, is a common theme in the Madhubani paintings tradition carried on by the women of Mithila, believed to be Sita’s birthplace.

Thus, in the folk art and tribal adaptations of the epic, we often find that the focus is on domestic relationships, and esoteric contemplations on dharma are absent.

Individual ambitions and aspirations have never mattered much in the Indian context. On the contrary, obedience and conformity to a clan’s social structure is encouraged. That is why Ravana’s lust for a woman was punished. Ravana’s was an individual’s aspiration for which he compromised the interests of his clan. Whereas, Rama, even as a manifestation of the divine, did not act for himself, but as a torchbearer for his dynasty and the values it stood for. It is this idea of the superiority of the clan over the individual, endorsed by the epic that continues to resonate deeply with the common man even today.

Ramayana, the greatest story ever told

The question whether Rama existed or not is one we endlessly debate. Maybe Rama did exist, and his incredible life story gained the proportions of a magnum opus with time. Or maybe, he didn’t, and was but an embodiment of an ideal man, a society’s idea of a perfect monarch. Either way, the answer does not matter. Historic figures rarely reach the zenith of adulation that mythological heroes do. As the hero of an eternal epic, Rama, the Kavuyapurush, remains immortal in the collective imagination of all the listeners of the Ramayana. As long as we keep telling stories, Ramayana will continue to be told and heard…

How Sri alias Lakshmi became the consort of Vishnu

The Mahabharata says that Draupadi was Sri incarnate. Sri, the goddess we know today as Lakshmi.

This raises an issue. If Draupadi was Sri, her consort should have been Krishna, the avatar of Vishnu.

But she wasn’t!

And, she could not have been the wife of the Pandavas. But she was!

Confused?! Watch the video to know the story behind how Sri became the exclusive consort of Vishnu!

Myth or Epic? Krishna, Draupadi & the Raksha Bandhan story

A popular tale about Raksha Bandhan traces its origins to the relationship between Krishna and Draupadi.

The Mahabharata, however, makes no mention of it. On the contrary, the epic introduces Krishna to us when he is attending Draupadi’s Swayamavara/

What exactly was the nature of Krishna’s relationship with Draupadi? If his relationship with her was fraternal, why then was he present at Drauapadi’s Swayamvara?

The answers are but a click away….

Kannagi & the Goldsmith – Classical vs Folk Narrative

Click the link for the vlog!

Silapathigaram, one of the five great epics of Tamil, composed about 15 to 1800 years back tells the story of Kannagi, who is famously believed to have burned down the city of Madurai seeking justice for her murdered husband.

For those who are not familiar with the story, here it is, in brief.

The Story

Kannagi and Kovalan, who lived in the ancient port city of the Cholas called Pumpuhar came from rich trading families. They were married and spent a few years of wedded bliss, rejoicing in each other’s company. But one day, Kovalan happened to come across a beautiful courtesan and talented dancer named Madhavi.

Smitten by her beauty, he fell in love with her. Soon, abandoning his wife, Kannagi, Kovalan started to live with Madhavi. Years passed. During this time, he expended his entire fortune on Madhavi and gradually lost all his riches. One day, suddenly, he got angry with Madhavi over a trivial issue, fell out with her and decided to return home to his wife Kannagi.

Kannagi, who had been patiently waiting for her husband to return to her all these years, was overjoyed to see her husband come back. Kovalan and Kannagi then decided to start a new life together in a new place. They decided that they would go to the Pandiya capital city of Madurai, where Kovalan would set up his business. But unfortunately, having wiped out all their riches lusting after Madhavi, Kovalan had nothing left with him to restart his business.

In order to help Kovalan, Kannagi gave him her anklet (Silambu in Tamil) and asked him to sell it and use the proceeds to start his business. Hoping to start an all new life. the couple travelled to the city of Madurai where Kovalan went to the market to find a goldsmith who would buy the anklet from him. Unfortunately for Kovalan, the goldsmith he found, turned out to be a wily man and also a thief.

The goldsmith had stolen the Pandiya queen’s anklet that looked very similar to Kannagi’s. So he made Kovalan the scapegoat and reported him to the King as the thief who had tried to steal the queen’s anklet. Hearing this, the king was furious. Without bothering to enquire into the matter or conduct a fair trial, the king ordered Kovalan to be executed.

And so, poor Kovalan, who could certainly be held guilty of several wrongdoings, but not this one, was killed without a fair trial. When Kannagi came to know about her husband’s death, she was shocked and enraged. Burning with anger, she stormed out to the Pandiya King’s court, demanding justice for her murdered husband. There, she proved to the king that the anklet that Kovalan had carried was hers, and not the queen’s as the goldsmith had wrongfully claimed.

This she proved by breaking open her anklet, from which spilled out blood red rubies. Whereas, the queen’s anklet was filled with pearls, which were a specialty of the Pandiya kingdom. Horrified to see the blood-red rubies falling out of Kannagi’s anklet, the Pandiya king realised that he had made a horrible mistake by having Kovalan executed.

Shocked by the lapse of justice, the king fell down dead and so did his wife, the Pandiya queen. But Kannagi could not be pacified, not yet. Seething with rage, she plucked out her left breast and threw it at the city of Madurai, and the city burst into flames. Except for the children, women, the aged and the disabled of the city, everyone else in the city perished. Her anger unabated, Kannagi left the city and started to walk towards the neighbouring Chera kingdom.

Angry Kannagi was later pacified by the guardian deity of Madurai who told her that Kovalan had died an unwanted death because of a sin that he had committed in his past life when he had been responsible for the murder of an innocent man. Hearing this, Kannagi finally calmed down. 

The epic’s story more or less ends here. The rest of the epic is about Kannagi’s long walk to the Chera country, her reunion with her dead husband, her recognition as a chaste woman and her eventual apotheosis. Young, simple Kannagi is thus elevated to the position of Goddess Kannagi by the people and Chenguttuvan, the Chera king who later builds a shrine for her in his country. 

Silapathigaram is an amazing story of retribution, righteousness and justice. The epic’s author Ilango Adigal ties up all the lose threads neatly in the story, and every character is given a closure. Except one! The goldsmith. No doubt, he must have perished in the fire, with everybody else. But the epic does not tell us explicitly what happened to him.

And so the nagging question remains, why wasn’t the goldsmith who was responsible for the murder of Kovalan, the death of the Pandiya king & his queen and for burning of the city and its people given his proper dues?  On the other hand, we find later that instead of punishing the individual, an entire community was punished for one man’s wrongdoing.

After the fire…

According to the epic, the city of Madurai that Kannagi leaves in flames faces a severe famine following several years of drought. In order to bring the rains back, Ilanchezhiyan, the successor of the dead Pandiya king, sacrifices a 1000 goldsmiths to Goddess Kannagi or Pattini, as she is often referred to. Goddess Kannagi is thus appeased and she finally showers rains on the city. Prosperity is thus restored.      

If we think about it, killing a thousand goldsmiths for the fault of an individual smacks of genocide. Of course, we do not know if a 1,000 goldsmiths were actually killed or killed symbolically to please Goddess Kannagi. Nevertheless, it is a disturbing thought that the actual guilty person was never confronted with his sins and punished. Instead, a 1000 innocent people were executed (whether actually or symbollically) in his place.

The different folk narrative

Interestingly, this part of the Kannagi story is told differently in the folk ballads of Tamil Nadu, Kerala and Sri Lanka, where Kannagi is worshipped as a goddess. In many of these stories, goddess Kannagi appears before the wily goldsmith and kills him. He pleads guilty and begs to be forgiven, but Kannagi doesn’t spare him. And…in these stories, the execution of a 1000 goldsmiths is rarely mentioned.

And so one finds more appropriate justice being rendered in the folk versions of the epic than in its original. Why is that so? There is also the other nagging question as to why Kannagi burnt the entire city that killed the lives of several innocent people for the fault of one person? The same Kannagi who forgave her husband for leaving her for another woman and destroying all their wealth, unleashed such terrible fury when he was killed. Why?

Classicals vs Folk literature

The answer to these questions lies in understanding the difference between classical and folk literature and what they choose to focus on. Folk literature tends to focus on the here and the now. So, it chooses to address the immediate concerns rather than ponder over abstract issues such as justice and righteousness. Classical literature, on the other hand, tends to focus on the esoteric, elusive issues such as karma and dharma.

The canvases are different for both. Folk literature is composed on a small scale for sharing among a small group of people and is thus satisfied addressing issues that are relevant to the village context. So,in the Kannagi story, the folk storyteller meets out instant justice to the goldsmith, who in his eyes, is the key culprit. How could he forgive him?

On the other hand, classical literature is mounted on a large canvas and tends to contemplate on the universal questions of life, ponder over cosmic justice and seeks answers for life’s greatest riddles. In doing so, it often tends towards exaggeration. And that is why Ilango Adigal mounts his epic on a larger-than-life canvas, where the entire city burns for the murder of one innocent man and a thousand goldsmiths die in place of one.  True to this spirit, the epic holds the king, who is the upholder of law & justice, as the key culprit, and accountable for the wrongs committed by his subjects, in this case, the goldsmith.

So, while the folk story focuses on the near view of the story, the epic takes an elevated view. And we, as the rasika, the audience, need to see both, the near and the far, to get a deep insight into the Kannagi story and its message.

Nala Damayanti – the eternal love story from the Mahabharata

Nalopakhyana, from the Mahabharata, tells the story of Nala and Damayanti – their love, loss and retrieval.

Don’t be fooled by the name (Nalopakhyana)! In essence, it is the story of a woman hero – a woman who spared no efforts to gain and keep the man she loved!

Listen in to this poignant story of Damayanti and the triumph of her love amidst adversity!

4 festivals, 3 epics, 2 nations, 1 god

A Pongal Special!

4 festivals: Bhogi, Indra Vizha, Indra Dhwaja Maha, Indra Jatra

3 epics: Mahabharata, Silapadhigaram, Manimekalai

2 nations: India, Nepal

1 God: Indra, of course!

And 3 stories that connect the dots.

The Many Faces of Karna

Karna’s complex character has been dissected and explored by several playwrights and writers over two millennia.

This video explores what it means to be Karna as seen through the eyes of his fandom.

Check it out!