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

Thursday, September 9, 2021

Fish and Eyes in Ancient Indian literature – Mīnākṣī

 

I cannot help writing a few words about a name from the text enunciating the 1,000 names (Sahasranāma) of the Goddess, Lalitā Mahā-Tripurasundarī, more commonly known as Lalitā Sahasranāma.

Generally speaking, she is the consort of Shiva, but this text creates an All-Encompassing figure, thus, she is also called 

·         Nārāyaṇī ( No. 298, consort or sister, of Nārāyaa, i.e. Viṣṇu, though the epithet Nārāyaa is applicable to Shiva too),

·         Śrī-Mātā (No.1),

·         Sāvitrī (No. 699),

·         Brāhmī (No. 675) etc. 

 

The name is 18th on the List.


It’s a very long, compound word, and if I were to break it up, it would be read as:

 

“Vaktra-lakmī-parivāha-calan-mīnābha-locanā

 

which can been translated as:

 

“She whose eyes (locana) are like fishes (mīna) moving in the pool of the beauty of her face”.

 

A text available online, translated by an Indian author, most inadequately, translates as: “Thy eyes are most beautiful”.

You can see how much may be lost, in a translation!

 

Quite a large number of names delineate the awe-inspiring, enchanting beauty of the Goddess.

I found this particular name (& the idea underlying it) very lovely.

I doubt if this poetry can be surpassed.

 

In Indian literature, typically, as I’ve noted before, beautiful eyes are compared to the petals or leaves of a lotus {or to the lotus itself}, or the eyes of a gazelle/fawn (that of women, in particular) {the goddess is Mgākṣī – with the eyes of a she-deer or gazelle, No. 561}, or (less frequently) to fishes.

I’ve written a few words on this in a previous post.

 

“If a white flower were laid upon a young tender leaf, or a pearl were to rest on the richest (lit. spotless) coral, then only one could vie with the sweet smile that played about (lit. whose lustre was shed over) her rosy lip.

While she, who had a musical sound, spoke in a voice that distilled nectar as it were, even the koil {the cuckoo}...., was to the ears of the listeners full of jarring notes, like a harp out of tune, when played upon.

The timid (unsteady) glances which were not dissimilar to the blue lotus {nīlotpala} (tremulous) in a strong wind, did the female fawns borrow from her, or she with elongated eyes {“ āyatākṣyā”} from them?”

 

Thus, with consummate poetic mastery, is the beauty of Pārvatī described in Kumāra-sambhava {1.44-46} by the greatest poet of Ancient India {M.R. Kāle translation}.

Here the Goddess’s eyes – and the tremulousness of their glances – are compared to the blue-lotus & to the eyes of female-fawns.

Indeed, fish swimming in the water also convey the idea of tremulousness, so passionately admired, in the eyes of women, in Ancient Indian literature.

{In 1.40, she’s called utpalākṣī – lotus-eyed, or “the lily-eyed one”, as Mr. Kāle prefers.

I can’t resist pointing out that the Sanskrit original says “tāmra-oṣṭha” – i.e. {literally} lip which is copper-red – something which Kāle translates as “rosy lip”.}

 

I should add here that it’s not just that this simile is applied to the eyes of feminine figures.

We read, in the Śrīmad Bhagavatam {3.28.30 – from a translation available online, by Anand Aadhar Prabhu}:

Then one should attentively meditate in one’s mind’s eye the elegance of His face adorned with an abundance of curly hair and His lotus eyes and dancing eyebrows {“ullasad-bhru”} that would put to shame a lotus surrounded by bees and a pair of swimming fish {“ mīna-dvayāśrayam”}.”

Here the eyes of the Lord, Hari or Viṣṇu {a Male figure}, are compared to a pair of swimming fish – or rather, they are said to be more beautiful than a pair of fish.

The original can be translated in various ways, but at least 2 translations, available online, clearly make this comparison.

The smooth, gliding, quick, and – in a sense – deft – movements of fish in water, reveal a lot about the images from nature which caught the attention of the Indian mind for their beauty, and captivated it.

 

Though I cannot recollect where, I think I’ve read that in Indian sculpture, the canon specifies that one of the forms, which the eyes of a statue may imitate, is that of a fish.

That is, the eyes must be shaped like fishes.

Indeed, the consort of ShivaPārvatī, is worshipped by the name of Mīnākṣī“She with the eyes (akṣī) like fish (mīna), or fish-shaped/fish-like eyes, at one of India’s most famous & beautiful temples, the Mīnākṣī Temple, in the town of Madurai.

Here, she is considered to be the sister of Viṣṇu, who gives her in marriage, to Shiva.

 

This epithet describes, very imaginatively & poetically, why the eyes are compared to fishes, though a more literal analogy {i.e. the shape of the beautiful, expansive human eye may actually said to resemble the shape of the fish} – is simultaneously true.

Her face is like a lake of beauty.

In that lake swim the two fishes of her eyes.

Absolutely lovely.

As an aside, in Ancient Indian thought, it was believed that by her mere look alone, the fish could fertilize her eggs.

In the same way, the Goddess, Nitya-klinnā {No. 388 – the perennial source of compassion} through her glance of compassion, can nourish all her devotees.

 

I will come to the other epithets – some of them incredibly beautiful – and why they are important – sometime later.