Hearken, O Mādhava, what more can I say?
Nought can I find to compare with love:

Though the sun of the East should rise in the West,
Yet would not love be far from the worthy,

Or if I should write the stars of heaven on earth,
Or if I could pour from my hands the water of all the sea.

-- Vidyapati

I feel my body vanishing into the dust whereon my beloved walks.

I feel one with the water of the lake where he bathes.

Oh friend, my love crosses death's boundary when I meet him.

My heart melts in the light and merges in the mirror whereby he views his
face.

I move with the air to kiss him when he waves his fan, and wherever he
wanders I enclose him like the sky.

Govindadas says, “You are the gold-setting, fair maiden, he is the
emerald”

Among the hills, when you sit in the cool shade of the white poplars, sharing the peace and serenity of distant fields and meadows – then let your heart say in silence, “God rests in reason.”
And when the storm comes, and the mighty wind shakes the forest, and thunder and lightning proclaim the majesty of the sky, – then let your heart say in awe, “God moves in passion.”
And since you are a breath in God’s sphere, and a leaf in God’s forest, you too should rest in reason and move in passion
.

-- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Open your eyes ...

Open your eyes ...

Mirror-pond of stars …

Suddenly a summer

shower

Dimples the water.

-- Sesshi

He who has been instructed thus far in the things of love, and who has learned to see the beautiful in due order and succession, when he comes toward the end will suddenly perceive a nature of wondrous beauty(and this, Socrates, is the final cause of all our former toils)—a nature which in the first place is everlasting, not growing and decaying, or waxing and waning; secondly, not fair in one point of view and foul in another, or at one time or in one relation or at one place fair, at another time or in another relation or at another place foul, as if fair to some and foul to others, or in the likeness of a face or hands or any other part of the bodily frame, or in any form of speech or knowledge, or existing in any other being, as for example, in an animal, or in heaven, or in earth, or in any other place; but beauty absolute, separate, simple, and everlasting, which without diminution and without increase, or any change, is imparted to the ever-growing and perishing beauties of all other things. He who from these ascending under the influence of true love, begins to perceive that beauty, is not far from the end. And the true order of going, or being led by another, to the things of love, is to begin from the beauties of earth and mount upwards for the sake of that other beauty, using these as steps only, and from one going on to two, and from two to all fair forms, and from fair forms to fair practices, and from fair practices to fair notions, until from fair notions he arrives at the notion of absolute beauty, and at last knows what the essence of beauty is.

“This, my dear Socrates”, said the stranger of Mantineia, “is that life above all others which man should live, in the contemplation of beauty absolute.... But what if man had eyes to see the true beauty—the divine beauty, I mean, pure and clear and unalloyed, not clogged with the pollutions of mortality and all the colours and vanities of human life—thither looking, and holding converse with the true beauty simple and divine? Remember how in that communion only, beholding beauty with the eye of the mind, he will be enabled to bring forth, not images of beauty, but realities (for he has hold not of an image but of a reality), and bringing forth and nourishing true virtue to become the friend of God and be immortal, if mortal man may.Would that be an ignoble life?”

-- Plato, Symposium

Wednesday, March 17, 2021

Bhartṛhari’s Nīti Śataka and the Cloud-&-Tree symbolism in Indian literature


“Trees when laden with fruit are bowed down, and

the clouds when pregnant with fresh rain hang near the earth: and

in like manner good men are not unduly exalted by prosperity.

This is the natural disposition of the liberal man (paropakārin).

...

The ears of men like these are ornamented by hearing the revelation of divine wisdom, and not with ear-rings;

their hands are adorned by liberality (dāna) rather than by bracelets and rings: and

their bodies shine by the doing of good unto others, and not by being anointed with the oil of sandal-wood.”

 

“Trees are bowed down with weight of fruit,

Clouds big with rain hang low,

So good men humbly bear success,

Nor overweening grow.

...

No earrings deck the good man’s ears, which still on scripture feed;

His hands, still open to the poor, no golden bracelets need;

The perfume of his kindly acts, like flowers in leaves concealed,

Exceeds the fragrant scent which nard and sandal unguents yield.”

 

“The ear is adorned by hearing the Shāstras, and not by an ear-ring,

The hand by liberality (dāna) and not by a bracelet:

the whole person (kāya) of the kind-hearted (“karuṇāparāṇāṁ”) shines (“vibhāti”) by doing good to others (paropakāra) and not by anointing sandal-ointment.”

 

As you can see, these are two different translations of Stanza 71, and three different translations of Stanza 72, of Bharthari’s Nīti Śataka.

The second is what one would call a “free translation” {where did the author get the word nard from? there is reference only to sandalwood (candana), not to spikenard} albeit poetic in the 18th-19th century English Romantic sense of the term.

He conveys the idea, but the translation is inadequate.


I’d go with:

 

“Trees when laden with fruit are bowed down (namra), and

(the word namra is significant: derived from the root nam, it primarily means bent down, bowing, stooping; but the word is used in the sense of soft, gentle, tender, modest, humble, well-behaved)

...

the clouds when pregnant with fresh rain hang near the earth: and

in like manner good men are not unduly exalted by prosperity.

(As in, they are not lifted up, they don’t set themselves high & above others – not arrogant & puffed-up & proud)

This is the natural disposition of the generous, helpful man (paropakārin).

 

Just as the best, most beneficial trees are those which are bent down low through the weight of their abundant fruitage – just as the most loved & longed-for clouds are those which shower water – enlivening the whole world, cloaking the Earth with green, decking trees with lush leaves & flowers, swelling up the rivers, sending forth roaring cataracts amongst mountain cliffs – and laden with moisture, lay close to the Earth – so is the innate nature of truly benevolent men, i.e. who do good to others (paropakārin): humble, not lifting themselves up above others, even in prosperity.

Wealth does not puff them up or make them arrogant.

They are naturally gentle & modest.

They do not gaze down upon others with contempt or derision from their inaccessible heights, but are naturally soft & humble (namra).

 

The ear is adorned by hearing the Shāstras, and not by an ear-ring,

  The hand by liberality (dāna) and not by a bracelet:

  the whole person (kāya) of the kind-hearted (“karuṇā parāṇāṁ”)  shines 

  (“vibhāti”) by doing good to others (paropakāra) and not by anointing sandal-

  paste.”

 

The idea is that the adornment of a compassionate man’s ear is not his ear-ring, but his attentive listening to sacred writ – in other words, his knowledge of sacred wisdom & his imbibing that wisdom;

what makes his hand beautiful is his charity (dāna), i.e. giving away (figuratively, with his hands) not the bracelets he wears;

what makes his body, his whole being, glow with radiance, is not anointing himself with sandalwood, but being benevolent, i.e. doing good to others, paropakāra meaning much the same as dāna, but having wider significance: causing the welfare of othershelping, assisting or serving others.

I must say that “sacred writ” isn’t quite appropriate a substitute for “Shāstra”.

“Sacred writ” is a modern European term, conveying something quite different from the Indian, Sanskrit word “Shāstra”.

Shāstras teach you many things – including how to sow dissension amongst the courtiers of a rival king – or what should be the layout of a city.

The Shāstras of India deal with all aspects, and every aspect, of life – they’re not just about “godliness” & “righteousness”.

“Sacred wisdom” or “divine wisdom” also don’t quite convey the right idea, since such terms have heavily western-religious undertones.

What is meant is more like the wisdom – solid practical wisdom included – which has the sanction of centuries of experience & learned authority – but which, yes, ultimately has the seal of “divine” sanction & origination {everything originates in the Supreme Being}.

 

These thoughts, this imagery, these sentiments, are not restricted to Bharthari.

The symbolism & the ethical ideals are echoed in various forms, in various ways, in myriad permutations & combinations, throughout Indian literature.

Tree & cloud imagery are rampant, in Hindu texts, and are often found together.

We read, in the Shānti Parva of the Mahābhārata {12.75.13}:

    parjanyam iva bhūtāni mahādrumam iva dvijāḥ
    nar
āstam upajīvanti npa sarvārthasādhakam

Men seek the protection of a competent (sarvārtha-sādhaka) king like creatures seeking relief from the clouds (parjanya) or birds (dvija) seeking refuge in a large tree (mahā-druma).

{The Hindi translator understands sarvārtha-sādhaka as “one who succeeds in fulfilling all wishes”}.

Here again the benevolence & munificence of great men is compared to clouds that shower rain {parjanya}, or prolific, leafy, immense trees {mahā-druma}.

 

Cloud symbolism is perhaps the single most important, in Hinduism, after that of the lotus – but, in a sense, it predates lotus symbolism in pervasiveness & persistence, going back all the way to the g Veda where it is portrayed mostly in a negative light, i.e. the Asura Vtra is identified with the rain-cloud which is dismembered by Indra to release life-giving rains on Earth {lotus symbolism is found in the g Veda, but isn’t of much importance there}.

It isn’t so simple, though.

Quite the contrary.

It may be a lesser known fact that while the Sanskrit word asura means, amongst other things, cloud so does the word deva.


In his translation of the Mahābhārata 1.68.10, Ganguli identifies parjanya {the rain-giving cloud} with Indra himself:

“And Parjanya (Indra) poured showers at the proper time, & the produce of the fields was always pulpy & juicy.”

 {kālavarṣī ca parjanya sasyāni rasavanti ca...”}

The Hindi translator simply says megha, i.e. cloud.

In a note appended to the g Veda 2.12.12, H.H. Wilson again notes the identity of the rain-cloud, Parjanya, with Indra – and mentions that it has 7 forms, which are enumerated in the Taittiriya Ārayaka.

Parjanya, the Rain-cloud, is often invoked & prayed to, in the g Veda {the hymn 5.83, for instance}.

In the Bhagavad Gītā 3.14., parjanya is identified with rainfall itself, and Kṛṣṇa says

“From food {anna} all living creatures come into being; from rain {parjanya} is the generation of food; from sacrifice {yajña} rain {parjanya} comes into being & yajña is born of karma.


This, however, would be a slight digression from the central subject of the cloud-&-tree symbolism used for great men of liberality & compassion, of those who protect & nourish & cherish others.

Kālidāsa – one of the greatest poets in world history – uses cloud & tree symbolism extensively, in this respect.

Thus we read, in Raghuvaśa, 10.5 {Kale translation}:

“At about the same time the gods, harassed by Rāvaa, went to Hari, just as travellers, oppressed with heat, repair to an umbrageous tree.”

After Hari, i.e. Viṣṇu{of whom we’re told “lokānugraha evaiko hetuste janmakarmao “Doing good to the world is the only goal of your incarnations & actions” (10.31)} reassures the Devas that he shall incarnate as Rāma on Earth to destroy Rāvaa, Kālidāsa writes (10.48):

“Having, in this way drenched with the water (in the form) of speech the crop-like gods withered (dried) by the drought of Rāvaa, the cloud-like Kṛṣṇa (Viṣṇu) disappeared.”

Here Viṣṇu is compared to a cloud, and his speech, to rain – which gives a new lease of life {i.e. hope, relief, comfort} – to the devas, who’re like drought-afflicted crops waiting & thirsting for the raincloud.

 

The principal message, or ethic, in Bharthari’s Nīti Śataka, though, is the humility, the absence of pride & high-handedness, of not holding oneself aloof & being cut-off – of great men, who’re compared to rain-bearing clouds & fruit-laden trees.

They’re “bent low, stooped low” (namra)precisely because of their generosity & compassion.

The greatness of the compassionate man seeking the welfare of others doesn’t merely lie in giving – but that in being abundant & blessed – he is humble, accessible, approachable.

“Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up, Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil...” – 1 Corinthians 13.4-5.

The essential idea is the same, but there is a difference: Bharthari is talking about the innate disposition of those people who are charitable & helpful.

Innate these qualities may be, but such men, and such phenomenon, nevertheless serve as examples, as ideals to be inculcated & follows, because the same Hari, the same Kṛṣṇa, in the same Mahābhārata, uses almost the identical words, in advising Yudhiṣṭhira {2.45.65-66}:

apramatta sthito nitya prajāḥ pāhi viśāṃ pate
parjanyam iva bh
ūtāni mahādrumam iva dvijāḥ
b
āndhavās tvopajīvantu sahasrākam ivāmarāḥ

O king of kings, cherishest thou thy subjects with ceaseless vigilance and patience.

And

§      as the clouds (parjanya) are unto all creatures,

§      as the large tree of spreading bough (mahādruma) is unto birds,

§      as he of a thousand eyes (sahasrāka – the Sun) is unto the immortals (amara),

be thou the refuge & support of thy relatives.

bāndhava may well be translated as friends, dependents, or rather, all those who art bound to thee.

From the cloud & tree, we see that: in being bountiful, in having & giving (fruit, water), one is humble.

The plenteousness & the modesty are simultaneous virtues & presuppose & imply each other.

The truly benevolent man, the genuinely generous man, the man who gives, out of his own inherent & authentic & spontaneous feeling of love & kindness, is intrinsically humble & modest.

That is what human beings must learn & imbibe, in themselves.