Kṣemendra
Kṣemendra was a man of many talents who straddled the realms of śāstra and kāvya. Although he composed several works in both these genres, his attainments as a poet outshine his scholarly contribution. Kṣemendra’s thoughts on literary aesthetics embedded in poetic works, though not pathbreaking, have an intrinsic value as the utterances of a prolific author. Let us examine some.
The poet communicates his aesthetic intent at the beginning of the satirical work Deśopadeśa:
हासेन लज्जितोऽत्यन्तं न दोषेषु प्रवर्तते।
जनस्तदुपकाराय ममायं स्वयमुद्यमः॥ (1.4)
A person extremely embarrassed by ridicule will not commit an offence – once bitten twice shy. This is a service to the society. To render such service, I am composing this work that pokes fun at people.
Literary theorists know well that poets use their medium to instruct. Poetic instruction comes packaged in different ways, and ranges from direct didacticism to subtle suggestion. Kṣemendra perceived satire as a potent form of instruction. Endowed with effrontery and a biting wit, he composed humourous works that nudge—sometimes push—people in the right direction by mocking their faults and frailties. He is among the handful of ancient Indian poets who used satire to sanitize society. These poets thought it better to create fictional characters and suggest steps for course correction through them, than to lampoon actual people. Kṣemendra stands out among such poets—his predecessors—including Śūdraka, Śyāmilaka, Bhallaṭa and Dāmodaragupta. He deserves credit for inaugurating a new facet of literary aesthetics in India.
In the West, satire emerged as a literary medium in the time of Aristophanes and came to occupy a prominent position by the age of Renaissance. In this regard, our ancient literature fades in comparison. Our position would have been far worse if poets like Kṣemendra were not to be there. We must praise him for using poetry to instruct in a way that is not detrimental to rasa.
Let us next turn to Bṛhatkathāmañjarī. At the beginning of this work, Kṣemendra asserts that camatkāra (astonishment, literary relish) is the foremost cause of beauty in poetry:
ओजो रञ्जनमेव वर्णरचनाश्चित्रा न कस्य प्रिया
नानालङ्कृतयश्च कस्य न मनःसन्तोषमातन्वते।
काव्ये किन्तु सतां चमत्कृतिकृतः सूक्तिप्रबन्धाः स्फुटं
तीक्ष्णाग्रा झटिति श्रुतिप्रणयिनः कान्ताकटाक्षा इव॥(1.1.4)
Sparkling style, wonderful turns of phrase, various figures of speech – these certainly bring joy to connoisseurs, but camatkāra towers over them all. Verses imbued with camatkāra are like the side-glances of girls – sharp and yet easy on the ear.
Kṣemendra has here drawn our attention to camatkāra, an idea distinct from turns of phrase, style, figures of speech and such concepts that beautify poetry at various levels. Camatkāra works above these explicit enhancers of beauty. It is best understood as the overall appeal of a standalone verse. Despite these positives, camatkāra comes under the purview of guṇībhūta-vyaṅgya and not rasa-dhvani because it holds skill over substance. While savouring a camatkāra-filled verse, we do not lose ourselves; we consciously appreciate the poet’s skill. Naturally, such a concept flowers well at the level of a standalone verse, or maybe a string of verses, but not an elaborate work. Therefore, we can gainfully employ this concept to analyze individual verses.
Dr. V Raghavan, who has traced the history of camatkāra, opines that it has its roots in cookery: “It appears to me that originally [it was] … and onomatopoeic word referring to the clicking sound we make with the tongue when we taste something delectable, and in the course of its semantic enlargements, camatkāra came to mean a sudden fillip to any feeling of a pleasurable type.”[1] He adduces evidence for this from Rāmacandra-budhendra’s commentary on the Yuddha-kāṇḍa of Campū-rāmāyaṇa authored by Lakṣmaṇa-sūri.[2] Interestingly, the word rasa also has its basis in cookery. Bhagavatpāda Śaṅkara has explained it as the pleasure derived from culinary flavours such as sweetness and sourness.[3] At this juncture there might arise the question: How is camatkāra different from rasa? The answer is simple: Rasa is experience of which the expression is camatkāra. And what demarcates experience and expression? The distinctions of knower (jñātṛ), the object to be known (jñeya) and knowledge (jñāna), which do not exist during experience, surface in the process of expression. Pure experience is the cornerstone of aesthetics.
Abhinavagupta, Kṣemendra’s guru, has profusely used the word camatkāra in his works on Poetics. Authors who followed him such as Viśveśvara and Jagannātha have used it, too. Kṣemendra himself has used it in Kavikaṇṭhābharaṇa.[4] All these scholars seem to have stretched its meaning a little too far. (Even the laity use this word in an extended sense.) The reason for this is their understanding of rasa as aesthetic relish and camatkāra as the ‘clicking sound’ connoisseurs make in response to such relish. Looking beyond these external adjuncts, we realize that rasa itself can account for both these processes. At the mundane level, the description would be: rasyanta iti rasāḥ, ‘rasas such as love, pathos and amazement are the objects of relish.’ And at a subtler level: rasanaṃ rasaḥ, ‘rasa is aesthetic relish.’ Using Bhaṭṭanāyaka’s term, we may say that camatkāra is at the level of bhogīkaraṇa, while rasa is an experience closest to our fundamental nature. In this backdrop the term camatkāra seems superfluous.
Kṣemendra has concluded two of his works, Rāmāyaṇamañjarī and Bhāratamañjarī, with remarkable verses that reveal the very heart of Vālmīki and Vyāsa. In these verses he upholds śānta (serenity) as the predominant rasa of our national epics, Rāmāyaṇa and Mahābhārata, by citing reasons from the texts themselves. Prior to Kṣemendra, Indian aestheticians had discussed several issues related to śānta – whether it is a rasa or not, what is its basis in human feeling, what is its aesthetic expanse, and so on. Ānandavardhana and Ahinavagupta brought the discussion to a logical end: the former identified śānta as the predominant rasa in Mahābhārata and the latter upheld it as the foremost of rasas, the culmination of aesthetic experience. Kṣemendra followed their lead and went on to endorse it as the predominant rasa of Rāmāyaṇa as well. Even works filled with other sentiments such as valour, love and pathos culminate and find fruition in serenity – Kṣemendra’s observation to this effect is a capital contribution to Indian aesthetics. Let us now look at his verses:
भोगार्हे नवयौवनेऽपि विपिने चीराम्बरो राघव-
स्तत्राप्यस्य परेण दारहरणं क्लेशस्तदन्वेषणे।
सम्प्राप्तापि जनापवादरजसा त्यक्ता पुनर्जानकी
सर्वं दुःखमिदं तदस्तु भवतां श्लाघ्यो विवेकोदयः॥(Rāmāyaṇamañjarī, p. 508)
Rāma had to wear tattered bark clothes and live in the forest in the prime of his youth, a time fit for enjoyment. In the forest, his wife was abducted, and he had to experience unspeakable pain in finding her. And after he found his wife, he had to abandon her because of calumny. Know this: all of life is strife and sorrow. May wisdom dawn upon you.
रत्नोदारचतुःसमुद्ररशनां भुक्त्वा भुवं कौरवो
भग्नोरुः पतितः स निष्परिजनो जीवन् वृकैर्भक्षितः।
गोपैर्विश्वजयी जितः स विजयः कक्षैः क्षिता वृष्णय-
स्तमात्सर्वमिदं विचार्य सुचिरं शान्त्यै मनो दीयताम्॥(Bhāratamañjarī, p. 851)
Duryodhana lorded over the whole world and enjoyed all its pleasures to the hilt. In the end, he fell with a shattered thigh on the battlefield; with nobody to attend on him, he was devoured by jackals even as he breathed. Arjuna, the invincible warrior, was defeated by mere cowherds. The Vṛṣṇis killed each other with dry grass. Contemplate on all this and seek refuge in peace.
In Kṣemendra’s time, scholars believed that one can bring about serenity in poetry by describing hermitages of sages and saints, places of pilgrimage, and so on. However, he saw it emerge in the epics as a result of tumultuous human drama and value-conflicts. This is a great vision for which we should be forever grateful.
Bilhaṇa
Bilhaṇa was a unique mix of poetic ability, scholarship and tenacity. Born in Kashmir, he toured the entire country, landed in the kingdom of the Cālyukya monarch Vikramāditya VI, won his patronage and went on to live the last phase of his life in Kashi. The first canto of his historical poem Vikramāṅkadevacarita discusses some concepts of literary aesthetics. Let us examine these.
At the outset, Bilhaṇa warns poets against plagiarists and asks them to not lose heart:
साहित्यपाथोनिधिमन्थनोत्थं
कर्णामृतं रक्षत हे कवीन्द्राः।
यदस्य दैत्या इव लुण्ठनाय
काव्यार्थचोराः प्रगुणीभवन्ति॥
गृह्णन्तु सर्वे यदि वा यथेष्टं
नास्ति क्षतिः कापि कवीश्वराणाम्।
रत्नेषु लुप्तेषु बहुष्वमर्त्यै-
रद्यापि रत्नाकर एव सिन्धुः॥(1.11–12)
Poets, listen to me: Guard this ‘nectar to the ears’ you’ve acquired by churning the ocean of literature. Plagiarists, like demons desiring to loot, are on the loose! Or … I change my mind – let them loot all they like; it makes no difference to great poets. Although the deities have stolen numerous precious stones from the sea, it has not stopped being the source of gems.
These verses on plagiarism fall under haraṇa, a concept we have discussed multiple times in these pages. Plagiarists exist in all times, and they naturally get on the nerves of poets. Bilhaṇa, who had toured the entire country with a view to engage scholars in debate, knew the extent to which poets were jealous of one another, and how they sought to outperform their peers by resorting to plagiarism at times. The solution to this problem, according to Bilhaṇa, is to seek solace in pratibhā, the ability of poets to create new ideas endlessly. In the fourth chapter of Dhvanyāloka, Ānandavardhana has hinted at this solution that mostly appeals to poets and scholars settled in serenity, and not to ones wedded to boisterous or indolent ways.[5]
In another verse Bilhaṇa talks about novelty in poetry using a saucy idea:
प्रौढिप्रकर्षेण पुराणरीति-
व्यतिक्रमः श्लाघ्यतमः पदानाम्।
अत्युन्नतिस्फोटितकञ्चुकानि
वन्द्यानि कान्ताकुचमण्डलानि॥(1.15)
Poets should dare to go beyond old styles by employing ornate and forceful words. This is the way to go. Who doesn’t like the full breasts of voluptuous women that burst out of blouses! A busty woman is a pretty sight.
Poets who shake off old ways and chart a new course for positive reasons do not invite the ire of critics but endear themselves to them. Herein lies the originality of great poets, as evidenced from the best of world literature. While charting a new course, poets should anchor themselves to rasa; otherwise, they run the risk of traducing the tradition without offering a better alternative. While Bilhaṇa is not besmirched by this allegation, he is not wholly free from it either: he has spoken of a grand succession of words but not profound ideas. Apart from great poets such as Kālidāsa, Bāṇa and Viśākhadatta, most poets are tarred with the same brush. Aestheticians are no better either.
Poets should unabashedly submit themselves to constructive critics. In Bilhaṇa’s words:
उल्लेखलीलाघटनापटूनां
सचेतसां वैकटिकोपमानाम्।
विचारशाणोपलपट्टिकासु
मत्सूक्तिरत्नान्यतथीभवन्तु॥
रसध्वनेरध्वनि ये चरन्ति
सङ्क्रान्तवक्रोक्तिरहस्यमुद्राः।
तेऽस्मत्प्रबन्धानवधारयन्तु
कुर्वन्तु शेषाः शुकवाक्यपाठम्॥
अलौकिकोल्लेखसमर्पणेन
विदग्धचेतःकषपट्टिकासु।
परीक्षितं काव्यसुवर्णमेत-
ल्लोकस्य कण्ठाभरणत्वमेतु॥(1.19, 22, 24)
I submit my verse-gems to critics who are like jewellers. May they test my compositions with their intellectual tools. May the people who tread the path of rasa-dhvani and know the secret of vakrokti read my works. May the rest be content with parroting. May learned critics whet the gold of my work and certify it, and may it then adorn connoisseurs in the form of a necklace.
Time and tradition do not honour a poet who is insulated to criticism. Though aestheticians have proven this fact with their analyses and critiques, most of them have not emphasized it as a prerequisite of a poet. Rājaśekhara and Kṣemendra are among the exceptions.[6]
All in all, Bilhaṇa has made some valuable observations on Poetics.
[1] Studies on Some Concepts of the Alaṅkāra-śāstra. p. 294
[2] चमदित्यनुकरणशब्दः। चमत्कारलक्षणं तु “सुखदुःखाद्भुतानन्दैर्हर्षाद्यैश्चित्तविक्रिया। चमत्कारः ससीत्कारः शरीरोल्लासनादिभिः॥” इति।
[3] रसो नाम तृप्तिहेतुरानन्दकरो मधुराम्लादिः प्रसिद्धो लोके॥ (तैत्तिरीयपनिषद्भाष्यम्, ब्रह्मानन्दवल्ली, ७.१)
[4] सा चाविघ्ना संविच्चमत्कारः। तज्जोऽपि कम्पपुलकोल्लासनादिविकारश्चमत्कारः॥ (अभिनवभारती, ६.३२); रसे सारश्चमत्कारः सर्वत्राप्यनुभूयते॥ (साहित्यदर्पणः, ३.३ वृत्तिः); वागर्थौ सचमत्कारौ काव्यम्॥ (चमत्कारचन्द्रिका, १.११); स्वविशिष्टजनकावच्छेदकप्रतिपादकतासंसर्गेण चमत्कारत्वं काव्यत्वम्॥ (रसगङ्गाधरः, १.१ वृत्तिः); न हि चमत्कारविरहितस्य कवेः कवित्वम्, काव्यस्य वा काव्यत्वम्॥ (कविकण्ठाभरणम्, ३.१ वृत्तिः)
[5] The boisterous poet Jagannātha has a different solution. To guard against plagiarists, he compiled all his standalone verses and published them as an anthology (Bhāminīvilāsa, 4.45):
दुर्वृत्ता जारजन्मानो हरिष्यन्तीति शङ्कया।
मदीयपद्यरत्नानां मञ्जूषैषा कृता मया॥
[6] पितुर्गुरोर्नरेन्द्रस्य सुतशिष्यपदातयः। अविविच्यैव काव्यानि स्तुवन्ति च पठन्ति च॥ ... चतुर्थ एकाकिनः परिमितपरिषदो वा पूर्वाह्णभागविहितस्य काव्यस्य परीक्षा॥ (काव्यमीमांसा, पॄ. ५१–५२)
कृतसंशोधनं मुहुः ... व्युत्पत्त्यै सर्वशिष्यता ... स्वसूक्तिप्रेक्षणं दिक्षु ... पराक्षेपसहिष्णुत्वम्॥ (कविकण्ठाभरणम्, २.१२, १४, १६, १९)
To be continued.
