Madālasā may not be one of the best-known figures of Indian mythology, but she’s certainly an interesting heroine with an intriguing story.
I know Madālasā from the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa where she’s a Gandharva princess married to a human prince known as Kuvalayāśva.
The fascinating part of their tale is that when a Daitya, resorting to magic, deceives Kuvalayāśva’s family & people into thinking that he’s dead, Madālasā is so deeply afflicted, that she dies after getting to know this.
The text doesn’t specifically mention self-immolation {“Suttee”, i.e.}.
Suicide upon the death of a spouse, one’s progeny, one’s family member, or King, seemed to be a rather common practice in Ancient India.
It’s unlikely that she flung herself into her husband’s funeral pyre, because they don’t see his body – there is no funeral.
He is alive – so this cannot be a case of “Suttee”.
The passages seem a little garbled to me – it seems as if she committed suicide like Mādrī – but the wording is such that it supports the fundamental idea of “Suttee”.
The point is, Madālasā dies, thinking that her husband is dead – whereas he’s still alive.
Later, when Kuvalayāśva comes to know of her death, he makes a resolve of never having another wife – indeed, he renounces any romantic relationship with women.
Strange, that this poignant tale is not better known in India.
We get to hear no end about Satī-Sāvitrī – the former, a lady who abandons her life {a complex allegory, with plenty of qualifications} when her husband is insulted by her father – and the latter, who brings her husband back to life, from the God of Death, Yama, Himself.
We do get to hear of Bhīshma, who vowed to be a celibate his entire life, so that his father can marry a woman from an outcaste community.
We do get to hear of Rāma, who never married again, after abandoning his wife Sītā – and is a one-woman man – but why not the poor widower Kuvalayāśva, who abandons all delights of the flesh, and marriage, because he loved his wife so intensely?
Further in the tale, we get to know that Madālasā is resurrected by the Nāga King Ashvatara, and reunited with Kuvalayāśva.
There are other elements in their legend, but this is the basic background.
An important aspect is that the sum-total of Dhārmika wisdom is conveyed through Madālasā.
Essentially, she teaches her {third} son Alarka, all the critical principles of Indian Dharma.
This proves that women had access to this sort of knowledge, comprehended it very well, mastered it, and even educated their children, when necessary.
All those elements of Madālasā’s story, while fascinating, are not the point of this post.
The point is her complexion.
Madālasā is not a human being – she is the daughter of the Chief of Gandharvas.
Gandharvas are one class of beings in Indian mythology invariably clubbed along with Apasarās.
Like Asuras, Rākṣasas, Yakṣas, Kinnaras, etc., they are a magical, semi-divine class of beings.
Nevertheless, they pretty much have the appearance of human beings {unlike Kinnaras, for instance} – and there’s no dearth of intermarriage between Gandharvas-Apsarās, and humans.
Basically, they’re like Fairies or Elves {more like Tolkien’s Elven folk}.
And this is where I’d like to quote Manmatha Nath Datta’s translation of the description of Madālasā given in the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa {italics mine} {Chapter 21, Verses 16-22}:
“He {i.e. Kuvalayāśva} then saw a damsel like Rati, the companion of Kāma, lying on a highly spacious bed-stead alt made of gold.
Her countenance wan {??} like that of the moon;
eye-brows fair,
hips & breast round;
her lips were like Vimva fruits;
she was thin built & her eyes were like red lotuses.
Her nails were dark-blue & a little high;
her body was dark-blue & tender and
her hands & legs were coppery;
her thighs were like the trunks of an elephant
she had beautiful teeth and her curling locks were dark-blue, thin & firm set.
Beholding her with every limb fair like the tender creeper (wife) around the body of the bodiless (god of love) the prince took her to be a goddess of the nether region. Beholding him too with dark-blue locks with well-built thighs, arms and shoulders that fair one also took him for Madana (the god of love),
Having her mind agitated that noble lady, of slender make, rose up but immediately yielded to the control of bashfulness, wonder and restlessness.
(She thought) “Who is he? Is he a Yakṣa, a Gandharva, a serpent, a Vidyādhara or a man who practiced virtue only that has come here?”
So, okay – Manmatha Nath Datta does acknowledge that this Gandharva Princess Madālasā is “dark-blue” in complexion – but why does he keep dropping this word “fair”, like Ganguli?
Yes, “fair” MAY be interpreted as “lovely”, but a conscientious, accurate translator would say “lovely”, NOT “fair”, when you are specifically describing a dark-skinned person.
You would not describe Angela Bassett or Beyonce as a “fair lady” with “fair brows” and “fair hips” – you will just call her lovely or gorgeous.
Fact is, Datta’s translation isn’t accurate.
He says Madālasā’s eyes are like “red lotuses”.
He probably means to say she is red-eyed, like Arjuna or Kṛṣṇa.
That would be interesting, but the original says “nīlotpala-vilocanām” {21.17} – i.e. her eyes are like blue-lotuses – i.e. she is black eyed.
Like Ganguli, he translates “su-bhrū” {21.17} as “eyebrows fair” – whereas it simply means beautiful brows.
He says her nails were dark-blue, but the original clearly says “rakta-tuṅga-nakhā” {21.18} – i.e. her nails were red {& raised, i.e. roundish – not flat}.
He says “her hands and legs were coppery” – which, in addition to everything else, makes Madālasā look like a multicoloured extraterrestrial with blue skin, blue hair, red eyes, red lips, “fair” brows, coppery legs, coppery hands, blue nails etc. etc. – but the meaning is that the ends, i.e. the tips of her hands & legs were coppery, i.e. reddish, i.e. healthy, tender & youthful.
He translates “cāru-sarvāṅgī” {21.19} as “her with every limb fair” – but the original simply means “one with every limb beautiful”.
“cāru” doesn’t mean “fair” – it means “beautiful, lovely, beloved, agreeable, pleasing”.
“fair” is a very tricksy word to be used by an Indian, while translating an Ancient Indian text.
The Hindi translators are equally befuddling.
The original Sanskrit text {verse 18} clearly says that Madālasā is śyāmā.
Why does Manmatha Nath Datta translate śyāmā as dark-blue?
Fine.
It’s passable in a poetic sense.
Rāma, Kṛṣṇa, Arjuna – all are śyāma as well as blue/dark-blue/bluish – but the latter colour is more precisely indicated by the word nīla.
Even then, śyāmā CAN be translated as dark-blue.
But imagine my consternation when the indigenous Hindi translator says: her color is “gorā” – i.e. fair, or white!!
When did śyāmā become gorā?
This is downright wrong.
Another Hindi translator translates madirekṣaṇā {verse 23} as “red-eyed”.
This is not absolutely, egregiously false, but he should’ve kept in mind that just a few passages before, Madālasā’s eyes are compared to that of a blue lotus {verse 17}.
They cannot possibly be red.
madirekṣaṇā means one with intoxicating eyes – or with eyes as intoxicating as wine.
It may also mean one whose eyes are reddish because of being drunk – but this doesn’t seem to be the case – and if that were so, the translator could have elaborated.
He simply says she’s “red-eyed” – like Datta does, for the 17th verse, for nīlotpala-vilocanā!
madirekṣaṇā does not mean “red-eyed”.
Indeed, Datta does a better job, translating it as “one with inebriate eyes”.
Astonishing how many errors have crept into the translation of just a few simple passages, and how the truth may be completely lost in translation!
Manmatha Nath Datta has another slip.
In the 20th verse, Kuvalayāśva clearly is said to have nīla-kuñcita-murdhaja – i.e. blue-black/blue/black CURLY hair.
Datta misses out on the curly hair altogether!
Both Hindi translators make note of it.
Curly hair was considered the most beautiful hair-type, in India!
And then, Mr. Datta again translates śubhā as “fair one” {verse 20}.
śubhā does NOT mean “fair one”.
śubhā means “beautiful, brilliant, pleasing” etc.
There seems to be some confusion regarding these passages in the Hindi translations too, but neither talks about Madālasā’s “fairness”.
Like Kisari Mohan Ganguli, Manmatha Nath Datta also keep spilling this word “fair” all over the place for no reason or rhyme.
The most accurate translation of the Mārkaṇḍeya Purāṇa’s description of Madālasā, is given by the Britisher Orientalist Frederick Eden Pargiter.
I will reproduce it in full.
“Then he saw reclining on a very spacious couch, all made of gold, a solitary maiden, full of love, as it were Rati; —
her face like the clear moon {vispaṣṭa-indu-mukhi – Pargiter is right, Datta doesn’t make sense},
her eye-brows beautiful {su-bhrū},
large-hipped and full-breasted {pīna-śroṇi-payodharā – exactly like Durgā in Yudhiṣṭhira’s eulogy in the Mahābhārata},
scarlet-lipped {bimbādhara-oṣṭhī},
slender-bodied {tanvaṅgī},
her eyes like the blue water-lily {nīlotpala-vilocanā},
her nails red-tipped {rakta-tuṅga-nakhā},
black-complexioned {śyāmā},
soft-skinned {mṛdvī},
her hands & feet copper-coloured {tāmra-karāṅghrikā},
her thighs round and tapering {karabhorū – lit. a woman whose thighs resemble the trunk of an elephant},
her teeth beautiful {sudaśanā},
her locks dark-blue fine and strong {nīla-sūkṣma-sthira-alaka – alaka means curl – probably Madālasā has curly hair, and is black-skinned}.
On seeing her, lovely in every limb {cāru-sarvāṅgī},
as it were a creeper on the body of the god of Love,
the king’s son thought her the deity of Rasātala.
And the beauteous maiden immediately she saw him, with
his dark blue wavy hair {nīla-kuñcita-murdhaja}, and
well-developed thighs shoulders and arms,
deemed him the god of Love.
And she rose up, the noble lady {mahābhāgā}, feeling an agitation in her mind.
The slender one {tanvī} was overcome at once by bashfulness, astonishment and dejection.
‘Who is this that has come?
Is he a god, or a Yaksha, or a Gandharva, or a Nāga, or a Vidyādhara, or a man accomplished in virtuous deeds and love?’
Thinking thus, and sighing often, she seated herself on the ground and then the fascinating-eyed lady {madirekṣaṇā} swooned away.”
Beautiful.
There are 2 questions which arise, after reading these lines.
1. Madālasā is explicitly compared to Rati.
If she is black-skinned, or śyāmā – is Rati also black skinned, or dark-skinned?
Please note that Rati is the Goddess of Love, the Goddess of sexual pleasure – and the wife of the Indian God of Love, Kāma.
2. Madālasā is the daughter of the Chief of Gandharvas, Viśvavasu.
If she was dark-skinned, were Gandharvas also dark-skinned?
The Indian imagination today is full of images of fair-skinned Devas, Gandharvas, heroes and beautiful maidens.
Is it possible that most of these people were actually dark-skinned or black-skinned?
As it turns out, an astonishing number of Indian mythological figures were.
