My Sweet Lord

Only sometime back, a learned, a little eccentric but very much lovable cousin of mine exclaimed that the celebrated saint Narsi Mehta was not really a saint. Though used to him springing verbal surprises now and then, the comment on Narsi Mehta became all the more difficult to digest when one considered that the commentator was someone who fancied himself a devout Hindu. Prodded for reason, my cousin had a simple explanation – A saint does not ask anything from God. But Narsi Mehta disturbed Krishna frequently, sometimes making Him come down as Shyamal Das to pay off his debt or to make him come with Maayro for his daughter. How could a person, who ‘used’ God so materially, be a true saint?

Frankly, while I try to see merit in what my cousin had to say, my empathy for his thoughts stops with my belief that there can be no one way to approach Him. While Loving God for His own sake is arguably one of the highest forms of devotion, such selfless Love is more aspirational than real for the layman. 

With passage of time, what was once new becomes integral and at times, memories of yore get erased altogether. For the practising Hindu, who takes joy in the tales of Shabari’s berries or upholding of Draupadi’s honour, it may be slightly jarring to realise and accept that none of these tales, which entail God with the warmest human qualities, formed part of the original epics. Valmiki Ramayana only mentions that Shabari treated Rama & Lakshmana as venerable guests. The heart touching tale of Rama consuming her half eaten berries form a part of narrative in the Padma Purana, which was a much later creation. Likewise, the critical edition of Mahabharata has Draupadi’s honour being saved through a miracle, i.e., a saree once removed was replaced with another saree. Here, Draupadi had appealed to the higher powers, throwing her hands open in the skies and the skies had responded. Her heart rending appeal of Krishna and His making the saree become endless is but a later edition.

Iravati Karwe in her authoritative tomes, have cast doubts over the existence of Bhagvad Gita as a single text. Contending that the nature of the first six chapters are radically different from the later twelve, she argues that while the former gel with overall narrative of the Mahabharata, the latter are only later additions, put by proponents of Bhakti. 

Prof Karwe and many others seem to have little sympathy for Bhakti as an emotion for they contend that Bhakti transferred the onus of activity from self to God and by default, promoted fatalism and a passive avoidance of assertive activity. Prof Karwe outlines the achievements made in the Vedic era and contrasts them with the saga of defeats and compromises made in the medieval ages and tacitly holds preponderance of Bhakti for the passivity of the Indian people.

While the facts presented by Prof Karwe could be incontrovertible, the conclusions may only be partly true. Bhakti as a philosophy in India gained prominence in the North with the formal composition of various Puranas around the Gupta reign and with the devotional outpourings of the 12 Vaishnava Alwars and 63 Shaiva Nayanars, in the Southern parts of the country, around 7^th-8^th century CE.

But what could have caused this later development of Hinduism?

Going back to the hoary past looking for answers in Vedic literature, one is stuck by the societal obsession with maintaining order. A king had to uphold dharma so that it could rain on time, sacrifices had to be performed so that the gods could bless with grains, cows and sons, offerings had to be made so that the gods could become powerful enough to bless! Truly, while awe and devotion to the heavenly powers are all pervading in the Vedas, it could seem that many a times, the relation between gods and humans was transactional. If the humans did not perform sacrifices on time, the gods would lose power and the danavas would gain. And if the gods became weaker, the humans would suffer in form of draught and poverty. It is not very difficult to visualise as to why did the Vedic religion lost the laity’s attraction gradually. A religion, whose abstract metaphysics, while rich, became but a preserve of a few and the religion in practice, was seen as an agglomeration of rituals designed to uphold the cosmic order. An order so grand in scale that an individual could hardly visualise his role in it. The God became a distant deity, one to be feared and appeased, one who was too far removed to condone human frailties and embrace the shunned and the weak.

The gap which the Vedic literature could not fill was sought to be filled by our epics. Valmiki Ramayana was among the earliest texts which enumerated the merits of Bhakti and detailed how could a devotee attain God in various ways. Soon after, Puranas were composed, making God achievable through simple acts of śravaṇa (listening), kīrtana (group praising), smaraṇa (remembrance), seva (service), Archana (deity worship), vandana (Prayer), dāsya (servitude), sākhya (friendship), and ātma-nivedana (self-surrender).

If the scriptures themselves certify that even devotional love could be of so many varieties, how can we, as lesser mortals proclaim that one mode of worship is superior to the other?

Rationalists and atheists will of course argue that Religion and God are but inventions of a lost, weak and insecure human mind. Even if for arguments sake, we accept this contention as true, what difference does it make? I can be a witness to truth only the way I see it. And I can see God and His work manifest in countless forms all around. What need then I have to acquiesce to the ‘rational’ when it doesn’t make any sense to me?

While many sociologists and thinkers have tried to explain devotion as an ersatz relationship for a great loss / shortcoming in life, the view seems too cynical and uninformed. While it is true that a beaten soul tries to find solace in God, there are numerous instances where, the most materially blessed are into Him as much as a wandering mendicant is. Even for people, who strive to find God to make up for a loss, how could their devotion be any lesser? If even the rationalist looks towards his friends and family for succour when beaten, why would the one in trouble not approach Him, the only one who is all embracing, all loving and all forgiving.

We, the Hindus have often been accused of being very materialistic even with regards to our love for God, i.e., our prayers and hymns are full of demands on Gods. While that is true, what could be more shocking for the puritans is the acceptability of abuse as a form of worship! Though dying out now, even a few decades back, the devout was not above engaging in Ninda Stuti, abusing God for the blessings he did not shower. While scandalising for many, it does make sense. My personal God is the one with whom I have multiple connections; of a child, a friend, a parent, a lover, a servant and even a master (God being the dasa of the Bhakta). If endowed with so much of power, it would be foolish not to exercise it and remind God of his duties towards me!

Then, what wrong did poor Narsi Mehta commit? Even more in his defence, he did not even ask for anything from his Krishna. And if Krishna gave of His own will, how could Narsi Mehta refuse? J

On a more serious note, who in his senses, having even once drunk the nectar of His Grace, would not want to be a Rabia and proclaim:

"O God! If I worship You for fear of Hell, burn me in Hell,

and if I worship You in hope of Paradise, exclude me from Paradise.
But if I worship You for Your Own sake,
grudge me not Your everlasting Beauty.”

Or be a Raskhan and cry aloud:

“Make me but a cowherd of Gokul, if I were to be born a human again,

A cow in Nand’s herds, if am to be an animal

If I were to be a lifeless stone only, be it a stone of the mountain you held aloft

I will become a bird, if that be your wish, my Lord. Let me then dwell on but a little branch, of Your Kadamba on the banks of Your Kalindi.”

I do not aspire to be a Karraikkal Amma who climbed Kailasha on her head to see You; I do not desire to be a Meera who left everything behind to be with You; I cannot dare to be like Akka Mahadevi, who in her blissful state, discarded even her robes; nay, I cannot be like any of those whose tales make us believe that You are achievable. Without Your Grace, I cannot even move a step on the path to achieve You.  Allow me that much of Grace, O Lord, that when I think of You, I think of only You and no one but You.

Kitne Ramayan?

The decision of Delhi University to withdraw the essay ‘300 Ramayans’ from the list of prescribed history texts have yet again raised the hackles of many, who see the act as succumbing to the rabid right wing, hell bent on shoving down the myth of one people, one culture, to us diverse Indians.

Interestingly, the same people who otherwise had no sympathy to folk tales and traditions are swearing by their multiplicity and insist that those telling, writings, tales are equally, if not more, important than the Upper Casteist Valmiki Ramayana.

A side thread to this contrived fracas is the upliftment of the late author AK Ramanujan’s profile. While Ramanujan, who died in 1993, had made his career as a translator of works on Indian literature and culture for an American audience, the controversy has ensured that the defenders of plurality now hail this scholar – translator as the best thing to have happened to Indian culture, a litterateur par excellence, with some wires calling him an acclaimed historian!

Leaving the credentials of Ramanujan behind, while some apologists have claimed that Ramanujan deeply revered Ramayana, Ramanujan was a declared atheist. Even his relatively celebrated poem on the demise of River Vaigai dwelt on the socioeconomic importance of the River for Madurai rather than its religious significance.  The essay itself begins by introducing Hanuman as Rama’s henchman, something which is not used to denote the position of even the slave Bilal, to Muhammad, the Prophet.

Even if we disregard AKR’s intents as being immaterial to the present controversy, one cannot be indifferent to the impropriety of this essay being part of the History curriculum. 

Beginning with a relatively minor point on Ramayana itself being part of the History curriculum. While for us believers, there may nothing be out of place in reading essays on our epics as a part of History, it is indeed surprising that the brigades who have shrilly denounced these very epics as myths, now more shrilly declare their support for this essay as a part of history! Since when did a myth become history for these people?

Coming to the more important point of there being no original Ramayana: Valmiki has been introduced in our cultural records as being the first poet with the introductory lines of the Ramayana being the first poem and the Ramayana being the Adi-Grantha. While there have been numerous poets who have retold Rama’s story in their own tongues, all of them have singularly paid homage to Valmiki and most critically, none of them have claimed to be the Drishta, (one who saw as things were). Valmiki was the contemporary of Rama while others could only claim to be blessed with His divine Grace. So much so for the absence of original!

Different creations have different sensibilities. Well, none of them have Rama kidnapping Mandodari and Ravana attacking Ayodhya to save her! Of course, narratives and subtle details have changed. The story of Shabari’s berries, who we all delight in, wasn’t simply there in Valmiki’s Ramayana, having been introduced later in Padma Purana. Likewise, the story of Ahalya has been treated differently at different times. The base facts remain the same, Gautama cursed Ahalya and she was salvaged by His Grace. But the difference lies in presumption of her guilt. While in one version, Sita was simply kidnapped, in another version, she was not touched but taken with the soil beneath her feet while one other says that it was not Sita but her shadow which was kidnapped. But all of them do say that Sita was kidnapped. Otherwise, while Valmiki treated Rama as a super human with divine qualities, Tulsidas clearly saw Rama as God himself. 

The moot point is that while poets over the ages altered and embellished the narrative basis their own sensibilities and the prevailing social mores, the broad facts of the Ramayana remained the same. And rather than some obscure tribe having its own Sitayana, it was Valmiki himself who declares in his Ramayana, that the tale should have been more aptly named Sitayana.

Funnily, when there is so much congruence in the telling, the author seems to have concentrated on the divergences. So much so for those who proclaim: ‘We must learn to include rather than to exclude’.

While the well-meaning may really want to search for unity in diversity, the attempt to showcase fringe and obscure tellings as equivalent to the prime telling cannot be anything but mischievous. To say that Sita was Rama’s sister and that this version of the tale is as important as the works of Valmiki, Tulsi or Kamban is ridiculous and should be dismissed as a juvenile attempt to befool people. It is no accident that at their height of Ram Janmabhoomi Liberation Movement, the Marxist SAHMAT, wanted to hold enactments of the play ‘Kitne Ramayan’ across cities and towns in Uttar Pradesh. The motive of SAHMAT was not to educate the Indian populace on the plurality of Indian culture, it was simply to attack the premise of Rama as God. After all, seeing those Ramayanas, where Sita was Rama’s sister or Ravana’s wife or Lakshmana’s paramour, treated at par with the Manas or Ramayana could not have strengthened the faith of the common man in his God. 

Granted that there are numerous tellings of the Ramayana but each of them, written with belief in the God King has its base facts the same. Adherents to each of these versions are most of the time blissfully unaware that there are subtle differences in texts being followed and worshipped in other parts of the country or the country. Go to any part of India and within a 100 km radius, you will find a place where either Sita-Ram or the Pandavas are believed to have visited in course of their forest stay. Is it than any wonder that each part of the country has its own set of folk tales associated with Rama? Only, each of these people revere both the tale unlike what our progressives do.

For those who would claim that the beliefs are not that fragile to be shaken by a mere essay, should remember that over the centuries, singular texts have changed the course of religion – an outstanding poem Geeta Govinda became the cornerstone for worship at Krishna temples and the movie Jai Santoshi Maa, gave huge impetus to the worship of the Goddess all across North India. One would not be accused of hyperbole if he claims that introduction of such essays as prescribed texts, would only serve to further the secular agenda of questioning and weakening the position of Rama and Ramayana in the Hindu psyche. Of course, the Thai and Balinese versions treat Ramayana more differently. Thankfully, for them too, Rama and not Ravana is the God. More importantly yet again, like most of my fellow countrymen are oblivious of the Thai Ramayana, the common Thai believes that her Ramkien (of the 3 existing tellings) is her land's own tale, of her own Ayuthya and is not aware of any Indian Ramayana. That there are many tellings of Rama's story is not something which has been unknown to the devout, so why this sensationalism? Till the time these re-tellings are meant for and discussed with devotion, no one shall have any problem with any version. After all:

हरी अनंत हरी कथा अनंता, कही सुनाही बहु विधि सब संता (God is Infinte. So is His story. The pious speak and listen (to His story) in many different ways)

No University in its right mind anywhere in the world will use a text which talks about the life of Muhammad with reference to Rangila Rasool nor will it declare 'The Da Vinci Code' as a scholarly work. If these fringe works are treated for what they are, why should we Indians be apologetic about our prime cultural mores and look for authentication certificates for our beliefs and our tales from others, more so, from those Indians who write for foreign audiences? So why should we start bothering and questioning our epic simply because AKR or some other person for that matter decided to compare, say, Nina Paley's 'work' with the Valmiki Ramayana and claimed that it was the 301st Ramayana?