Monday, March 21, 2016

Double entendre 2

This little gem is another example of the apahnuti (अपह्नुति) or "say-and-deny" class of verses that uses puns to misguide the reader.

Devanagari text:
 सीत्कारं शिक्षयति व्रणयत्यधरं तनोति रोमाञ्चम्|
नागरिकः किमु मिलितो न हि न हि सखि हैमनः पवनः||
– धर्मदास
Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

sItkAraM zikSayati vraNayatyadharaM tanoti romAJcam|
nAgarikaH kimu milito na hi na hi sakhi haimanaH pavanaH||
– dharmadAsa

Loose translation: 
Woman 1: He instructs me to hiss, scars my lips, and gives me goosebumps.
Woman 2: Would that be your secret lover, when he makes love to you?
Woman 1: Not at all, dear friend, it is the winter breeze!

Source: Shaarngadharapaddhati (शार्ङ्गधरपद्धति) Verse 524. This anthology was compiled in 1363 CE by Shaarngadhara (शार्ङ्गधर), the royal preceptor of 'Hammirabhupati (हम्मीरभूपति) of Sakambhari (शाकम्भरी)', i.e. the Rajput king Hammir Dev Chauhan. It is in this compendium that the attribution to Dharmadasa is found.

The couplet under consideration has found its way into later anthologies like the Subhashita Ratnakara and the Subhashita Ratna Bhandagara. It is also quoted as an example of the apahnuti figure of speech in several treatises such as Alankara Shekhara (अलङ्कारशेखर) of Keshava Mishra (केशवमिश्र) and Kuvalayananda (कुवलयानन्द) of Appayya Dikshitar (अप्पय्यदीक्षित), both belonging to the 16th century.

Notes: The wordplay works here because all Sanskrit words for 'wind' (in particular, pavana, that is used here) are in the masculine gender. 

The variant kiM milito (किं मिलितो) instead of kimu milito (किमु मिलितो) in the second half is also frequently encountered.

Saturday, March 19, 2016

In quest of ambrosia

This is one those verses that I find amusing for the sheer fervor with which they describe the simple joys of day-to-day life.

Devanagari text:
 केचिद्वदन्त्यमृतमस्ति पुरे सुराणां केचिद्वदन्ति वनिताधरपल्लवेषु|
ब्रूमो वयं सकलशास्त्रविचारदक्षा जम्बीरनीरपरिपूरितमत्स्यखण्डे||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

kecidvadantyamRtamasti pure surANAM kecidvadanti vanitAdharapallaveSu|
brUmo vayaM sakalazAstravicAradakSA jambIranIraparipUritamastyakhaNDe||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: Some claim that ambrosia can be found in the city of the gods. Others contend that it exists in the bud-like (tender) lips of a woman. But, having achieved the qualifications to pass judgment on (matters concerning) all academic disciplines, I declare that it resides in a piece of fish steeped in lemon juice. 

Source: Verse 828 of the Vidyakara Sahasrakam. I believe that this verse is not very old and was penned by a scholar from Mithila.

Notes: Some might find the verse anticlimactic or even outrageous. But being a hardcore piscivorous Bengali, I whole-heartedly concur with our unknown poet! 

It is worthwhile to mention here a "healthy recipe" that I found in the medieval Bengali encyclopedic work Daaka Charitra (ডাকচরিত্র), a manuscript of which dating back to 1683-84 CE is preserved by the Bangiya Sahitya Parishad:
পোনা মাছ জামিরের রসে।      কাসন্দি দিআ জে জন পরষে।।।
তাহা খাইলে অরুচ্য পালাএ।                  ...                     
which roughly translates to "one can recover one's lost appetite by eating carp soaked in lemon juice and served with Kasundi relish." Historically, Mithila and Bengal used to have close cultural ties.

Wednesday, March 16, 2016

True love

This verse is evidently a parody of the countless erotic compositions in Indic languages that use a slew of (mostly pompous and hackneyed) similes to describe the physical features of beautiful young women.

Devanagari text:
 मर्कटमुखि मरिचस्तनि मुरजोदरि मुष्टिमेयकटिदेशे|
मार्जारशावनयने स्मरामि कान्ते त्वदङ्गानि||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

markaTamukhi maricastani murajodari muSTimeyakaTideze|
mArjArazAvanayane smarAmi kAnte tvadaGgAni||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: Oh sweetheart! I am thinking of your body parts – your apelike face, your breasts that are as tiny as a pair of peppercorns, your midriff that resembles a (barrel-shaped) muraja drum, your hips that are narrow enough to be spanned by a single hand, and your eyes that look like those of a kitten. 

Source: Suktimuktaavali Chapter 89 Verse 25. 

Notes: The alliteration in m is quite noteworthy. 

I also like the comparison of the eyes to those of a kitten (मार्जारशाव) rather than to those of a cat, which is probably intended to suggest that the eyes are small in addition to having a non-black color. Or perhaps, it is just a mockery of the oft-used adjective mRgazAvAkSI (मृगशावाक्षी), "fawn-eyed woman", found in both the Mahabharata and the Ramayana. Incidentally, according to Varahamihira's Brihat Samhita, the physiognomic significance of a woman's tawny (पिङ्गल, piGgala) or brown (श्याव, zyAva) eyes is that she has bad character (Chapter 70 Verse 19).

Tuesday, March 15, 2016

Woman's best friend

Today's offering, an interesting take on the familiar theme of wifely infidelity, is not in Sanskrit but in the (stylized) Maharashtri Prakrit language. It is also much older than most other snippets of poetry quoted on this blog. 

Prakrit text in Devanagari:

खाणेण अ पाणेण अ तह गहिओ मण्डलो अडअणाए|
जह जारं अहिणन्दइ भुक्कइ घरसामिए एन्ते||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

khANeNa a pANeNa a taha gahio maNDalo aDaaNAe|
jaha jAraM ahiNandai bhukkai gharasAmie ente||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: The (family) dog was so won over by the adulterous housewife with food and drinks that he would happily greet her secret lover when he snuck in, and bark whenever the lord of the household (i.e. the dog's owner and the woman's husband) returned home. 

Source: Verse 62 of the 7th chapter (each containing 100 verses) of the anthology Gaha Sattasai (गाहासत्तसई), "a collection of seven hundred songs", sometimes referred to by its Sanskritized name Gatha Saptashati (गाथासप्तसती), compiled by Haala (हाल), a king of the famous Satavahana dynasty of the Deccan. Haala is usually placed in the early part of the 1st century CE, so this verse is at least two millennia old. We do know that quite a few of the poets mentioned by name in this anthology were female, and some verses are ascribed to Haala himself, but the author of the quoted verse is unknown. 


Notes: According to the commentator Bhatta Mathura Nath Shastri of Jaipur, the purport of the verse under consideration is that the clever wife had trained the dog to welcome her paramour silently (perhaps just by wagging his tail) so that no one else would know there was an outsider in the house, and to make a loud noise to signal the return of her husband so that the lover could quickly hide himself or make good his escape.


Here are two scholarly Sanskrit translations of the original Prakrit couplet:
(1)
खादनेन च पानेन च तथा गृहीतो मण्डलोऽसत्या|
यथा जारमभिनन्दति भुक्कति गृहस्वामिन्येति||
(khAdanena ca pAnena ca tathA gRhIto maNDalo(a)satyA| 
yathA jAramabhinandati bhukkati gRhasvAminyeti||) 

– Gangaadhara Bhatta (गङ्गाधरभट्ट) in his commentary Bhaavaleshaprakaashikaa (भावलेशप्रकाशिका). 

(2)

पानेन भोजनेन च तथा गृहीतो हि मण्डलोऽसत्या|
जारं यथाभिनन्दति बुक्कति गृहभर्तरि त्वयति||

(pAnena bhojanena ca tathA gRhIto hi maNDalo(a)satyA|
jAraM yathAbhinandati bukkati gRhabhartari tvayati||)

– Bhatta Mathuraanaatha Sharman (भट्टश्रीमथुरानाथशर्मन्) in his commentary Vyangyasarvankashaa (व्यङ्ग्यसर्वङ्कषा).


Saturday, March 12, 2016

Medication

Here's a short conversation between a distressed patient and a dodgy doctor.

Devanagari text:
दाहज्वरेण मे मान्द्यं वद वैद्य किमौषधम्|
पिब मद्यं शरावेण ममाप्यानय कर्परम्||
– मय

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

dAhajvareNa me mAndyaM vada vaidya kimauSadham|
piba madyaM zarAveNa mamApyAnaya karparam||

– maya

Loose translation: (Patient:) I am suffering from indigestion1, accompanied by fever and a burning sensation. O Doctor! Pray tell, what medicine (should I take)?
(Physician:) Drink a saucer2 of alcohol, and get me an entire bowl3.  

Source: Verse 2321 of the 10th century Subhaashitaavali.


1 The author uses maandya (मान्द्य) which has many meanings including "slowness" and "weakness (as of understanding, digestion, etc.)" (Monier-Williams).↩

2 Sharaava (शराव) refers to a shallow, concave (usually earthenware) dish that looks somewhat like a watch glass, or a similarly shaped lid for a pitcher etc.; this is the origin of the Bengali word shawraa (সরা/শরা).↩

3 Karpara (कर्पर) or Kharpara (खर्पर) usually denotes a large deep bowl used for begging (by mendicants belonging to certain orders such as the Nath community) or drinking (usually alcoholic beverages, but also blood if you are a wrathful deity or an occult practitioner), and fashioned out of pottery, a dried gourd, a coconut shell, or a human cranium! This word could also refer to a potsherd but I prefer to read it as "bowl" or "pot" here: This would mean that our doctor is not just prescribing alcohol for his patient's ailment but is also demanding the lion's share of the beverage (as part of the prescription, perhaps in addition to his fees).↩

Tuesday, March 8, 2016

Signs of aging 2

The following is one of many Sanskrit verses that humorize female senescence.

Devanagari text:
किं कारणं स्तनद्वन्द्वं पतितं ब्रूहि ते प्रिये|
पश्याधःखनने मूर्ख गिरयोऽपि पतन्ति हि||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

kiM kAraNaM stanadvandvaM patitaM brUhi te priye|
pazyAdhaHkhanane mUrkha girayo(a)pi patanti hi||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: (An old man says to his old wife:) O beloved! Pray tell, for what reason do your breasts sag?
(She replies:) Don't you see, you fool? If you keep digging at the base, even mountains topple!

Source: The 14th century anthology Subhaashita Sudhaanidhi (सुभाषितसुधानिधि), ascribed to Saayana.




Saturday, March 5, 2016

A wife's only gripe

Today, I will present two verses of unknown authorship connected by a common theme – a theme that many Indic authors have been obsessed with for centuries. 

Devanagari text:

आकारेण शशी गिरा परभृतः पारावतश्चुम्बने
हंसश्चङ्क्रमणे समं दयितया रत्या विमर्दे गजः|
इत्थं भर्तरि मे समस्तयुवतिश्लाघ्यैर्गुणैः सेविते
क्षुण्णं नास्ति विवाहितः पतिरिति स्यान्नैष दोषो यदि||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

AkAreNa zazI girA parabhRtaH pArAvatazcumbane
haMsaZcaGkramaNe samaM dayitayA ratyA vimarde gajaH|
itthaM bhartari me samastayuvatizlAghyairguNaiH sevite
kSuNNaM nAsti vivAhitaH patiriti syAnnaiSa doSo yadi||

– Anonymous

Loose translation: My husband has no dearth of qualities that all young women adore: He has the beauty of the moon and the voice of a koel, kisses like a pigeon, walks like a swan, and humps his beloved like an elephant – his only shortcoming is that he is my lawfully wedded husband (and not an illicit lover)!


अनेकैर्नायकगुणैः सहितः सखि मे पतिः|
स एव यदि जारः स्यात्सफलं जीवितं मम||

Harvard-Kyoto transliteration:

anekairnAyakagunaiH sahitaH sakhi me patiH|
sa eva yadi jAraH syAtsaphalaM jIvitaM mama||


– Anonymous

Loose translation: Dear friend! My husband has many qualities of a romantic hero. My life would be perfect if only he were my paramour. 

Source: Verses 2386 and 2387 of the 10th century anthology Subhaashitaavali. 

Notes: Throughout South Asian literary history, a spectacular amount of work has been produced either romanticizing or condemning wifely infidelity. In fact, many an anthologist has devoted an entire chapter in their compendium to the asati (असती) or "adulteress". The parakiyaa (परकीया), "another's (woman)", was a recognized category of the naayikaa (नायिका), "heroine", in Sanskrit dramaturgy and literary theory. Literature, both secular and scriptural, suggests that women were assumed to be innately promiscuous beings who valued affairs and quickies much more than legitimate conjugal intercourse – this assumption was presumably the basis for the numerous measures taken to 'protect' women of respectable families from themselves as well as from others.

The similes used in the first quote perhaps also deserve a comment. The moon has always been seen as the paragon of physical beauty, the (male) koel is often celebrated for its sweet voice, and the swan for its gait, and people of either gender have been likened to each of them. However, I have come across no other instance of the other two comparisons in my (undeniably limited) readings, but they are so apt that I wonder why more authors have not used them!