Strict vegetarianism

This little vignette revolves around an unnamed sramana (श्रमण) – an ascetic following a non-Vedic way of life such as Jainism or Buddhism (in fact, these non-Brahminical belief systems are collectively called sramanic traditions). These sramanas would usually live in monasteries (the word sramana is cognate with ashram), and would swear to lead a life of celibacy and mendicancy, with dietary restrictions peculiar to their faith. Below, you will see how one such ascetic adheres to his vow of abstinence from meat even in the face of extreme temptation.

Devanagari text:

श्रमणः श्रावकवध्वाः सुरतविधौ दशति नाधरं दत्तम्|
मदिराक्षि मांसभक्षणमस्मत्समये निषिद्धमिति||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

zramaNaH zrAvakavadhvAH suratavidhau dazati nAdharaM dattam|
madirAksi mAMsabhakSaNamasmatsamaye niSiddhamiti||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: While the ascetic was engaging in intercourse with a disciple's wife, she offered him her lips so that he might bite them. But he refused, saying, "O lady with intoxicating eyes! In our order, the consumption of flesh is prohibited."

Source: This verse in the above form can be found in the 19th/20th century Subhashita Ratna Bhandagara (सुभाषितरत्नभाण्डागार) which I referenced in this post. A slightly different version exists in Suktimuktaavali (सूक्तिमुक्तावली), the same 13th century anthology in which I found this couplet. In place of श्रावकवध्वाः सुरतविधौ (zrAvakavadhvAH suratavidhau), this older version reads श्रावकवृद्धासुरतविधौ (zrAvakavRddhAsuratavidhau) "during intercourse with the aged female disciple", but I think this is a copying or printing error. Moreover, निषिद्धम् (niSiddham), "prohibited", is replaced by its synonym विरुद्धम् (viruddham).

A candid confession

Today's offering is a tiny tale about how a lack of opportunity and resources can compel a man to take matters into his own hands. It might be considered by many to be in poor taste; nevertheless, it has found its way into at least two of the most celebrated Sanskrit anthologies of all time, as an example of humor (yes, it was regarded as art):

• as verse no. 2216 of the Subhaashitaavali (सुभाषितावलि) compiled by Vallabhadeva (वल्लभदेव) in 10th century Kashmir (see this post), and
• as one of the couplets in the chapter on comedy in the Subhaashita Sudhaanidhi (सुभाषितसुधानिधि), "a repository of the nectar of good sayings", ascribed to Saayana (सायण), the famed scholar of the Vijayanagara Empire in the 14th century.

Quite disappointingly, the author is unknown. All we can say with any degree of certainty about this composition is that it is at least a thousand years old. 

Devanagari text:

रण्डाः पाषण्डिभिर्व्याप्ता भर्तृभिः कुलयोषितः|
वेश्या द्रविणमिच्छन्ति वयं करपरायणाः||¹

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

raNDAH pASaNDibhirvyAptA bhartRbhiH kulayoSitaH|
vezyA draviNamicchanti vayaM karaparAyaNAH||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: Licentious women² are surrounded by scoundrels, wives of respectable families are protected by their husbands, prostitutes want money – hence, I am loyal to my hand.³

1 The second half of the version quoted in the Subhaashitaavali reads वेश्या धनिनमिच्छन्ति च्छात्राः करपरायणाः (vezyA dhaninamicchanti cchAtrAH karaparAyaNAH), which translates to "prostitutes desire rich men, (male) students are loyal to their hands.^↩

2 The poet uses the word रण्डा (raNDA) which, as Monier Williams notes, is "a term of abuse in addressing women, a slut", and is cognate with swearwords applied in many modern Indic languages to (female) prostitutes, promiscuous women, and widows. In Sanskrit, it was usually not used for a sex worker because prostitution was a legitimate profession (although perhaps not a respected one) in many principalities, but referred to other women engaging in what would be deemed sexual misconduct.^↩

3 The original reads "we are hand-loyal"; however, the plural form of the first-person pronoun was (and is) sometimes used by a poet to refer to himself or herself only.^↩

Signs of aging

In today's quote, an aging poet documents his daily struggles.

Devanagari text:

आपाण्डुराः शिरसिजास्त्रिवली कपोले दन्तावली विगलिता न च मे विषादः|
एणीदृशो युवतयः पथि मां विलोक्य तातेति भाषणपराः खलु वज्रपातः||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

ApANDurAH zirasijAstrivalI kapole dantAvalI vigalitA na ca me viSAdaH|
eNIdRzO yuvatayaH pathi mAM vilokya tateti bhASaNaparAH khalu vajrapAtaH||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: The grey streaks on my head¹, the wrinkles on my cheeks², and my loosening teeth do not dampen my spirits. What definitely hits me like a thunderbolt, however, is a doe-eyed damsel spotting me in the street and reverently addressing me as father.³

Source: Subhashita Ratna Bhandagara (सुभाषितरत्नभाण्डागार), "a treasury of gems of good sayings", an anthology of over 10,000 couplets, available here. There seems to be some disagreement on the identity of the compiler as well as the date of compilation (the date of publication might be as late as 1952!). More importantly (and unfortunately), the compiler provides no information on the authorship or antiquity of the snippets quoted.  

1 The original reads आपाण्डुराः शिरसिजाः "palish strands of hair."^↩

2 The author uses the word त्रिवली "a collection of three folds of skin" which usually refers to three horizontal lines formed by folds of skin a little above a woman's navel, seen as a mark of great beauty (take a look at this Chola bronze figure of Kali to get an idea); the use of this word to denote facial wrinkles caused by old age is undoubtedly facetious.^↩

3 The verse says तात which literally means father but can be used as a term of address for any older respectable man.^↩