Sunday, December 04, 2011

The M factor


The more I read about Mayawati, the more I am reminded about what a friend (Rukmini Gupte) once told me. She is the perfect Manasa archetype. And as my husband points out, so is Mamata. And there is more than just an ‘m’ connection.

Manasa, worshipped as a 'devi', is a semi divine being. Daughter of Shiv and a mortal woman, she is also a hero (the term hero in mythology stands for both man and woman). According to one of the definitions of hero, one of the many conditions that a hero must fulfil is to have one divine parent (Greek myths exemplify this best). Manasa, with Shiv as a father, fits the bill.

The story goes that Manasa was extremely beautiful but jealous Parvati (Shiv’s wife) scarred her face and blinded her in one eye. This did not deter Manasa or perhaps that is what set her on her mission: to upstage Shiv as the popular god.

Shiv was universally worshipped at the time; he was the reigning deity. Manasa wanted to take his place. She went about forcing, cajoling and threatening people to follow her. On the advice of a confidante, she sought the worship of the shepherd community. She believed that the shepherds, being nomadic, would help spread her influence to distant lands. The shepherds were not willing. But Manasa was determined. She poisoned their sheep and promised to revive them only if the community did her bidding.

Interestingly, in the Sunderbans where many of her legends still flourish, a poisonous plant named manasa is commonly found. And Otto Rank in his book ‘The Myth of the Birth of a Hero’ says that "nearly all authors who have hitherto been engaged in the interpretation of the birth myths of heroes find in them a personification of the processes of nature..." Is it possible then that a plant inspired a goddess and spawned these myths?

But I digress. Point is that Manasa was a vicious and vengeful goddess. In another legend popular in Bengal and Bihar, she drives a rich merchant Chand Soudagar to despair because he refuses to pray to her. She destroys his trade, kills his son and pushes him to brink of insanity until he gives in to her wishes. In return she brings his son back to life and restores his lost business.

Shades of Manasa are easy to spot in both the chief ministers: Mayawati and Mamata. They fit the archetype. They ride roughshod over all obstacles, real or perceived. Loyalty is rewarded, dissent is crushed.

An archetype, Jung says “is a kind of readiness to produce over and over again the same or similar mythical ideas.” (Carl Jung, Psychological Types, Collective Works, Vol 6) Thus the Manasa archetype is characterised by a determination to rise to the top, born out of a sense of injustice. It is marked by mercurial and impetuous behaviour and a ruthless desire for power and control over everything else. In Greek myths, Medusa takes the evil and cruelty inherent in the archetype to an extreme level wheras Manasa is more in keeping with that of a benevolent despot that is commonly found in the Orient (Doubt: is there such a thing as a "benevolent despot" or is it an oxymoron?).

As the UP state elections draw close, it will be interesting to watch how Mayawati handles the electorate. And in Bengal, how Mamata deals with her new-found power. Will they temper down their anger to win fealty, or will they, in keeping with the Manasa archetype, terrorise non-believers into submission?

Wednesday, July 20, 2011

Temple treasures

Now that the Padmanabhaswamy temple has been found to be sitting on a sea of riches, it may be a good time to recollect that in the Orient snakes and dragons have always been regarded as guardians of treasure. The Vishnu idol in the temple rests on Ananta, the serpent and this temple was perhaps built on an ancient snake worship site. Also snakes and dragons must have played a huge role in keeping looters at bay for then, as now, fear is the best way to prevent crime.

Tuesday, March 22, 2011

The sea and the hero

 
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Duryodhana, Kaurava king and arch rival of his cousins, the Pandavas, was said to have been well versed in the scriptures. Although he is the cause for the war that annihilated an entire race, Duryodhana comes across as an unfortunate character who felt he had been wronged by circumstance and his cousins. Although later renditions of the epic have made him out to be an evil and villainous warrior, Duryodhana did have several heroic qualities. He lost out on account of his vanity and uncontrollable temper. His character is brilliantly portrayed in a play called Dutavakyam by Bhasa, a Sanskrit playwright who lived sometime between 2BCE and 2CE.

Interestingly in the Mahabharata, it is Duryodhana who defines a hero's character. He speaks at length about what constitutes a hero and among the many points he makes is that a hero's might does not depend upon his lineage. Thus it did not matter that Karna was recognised as a Suta and not a Kshatriya. To him Karna was a brave hero because of his ability to challenge one as mighty as Arjuna. Caste did not cloud his judgement. Explaining his stance ( Mahabharata, Vol 1, Translated by KM Ganguli, p290) Duryodhana says:"The lineage of heroes like the sources of a lordly river are ever unknown."

He takes the water analogy further and says: "The fire that covers the world rises from the waters." Duryodhana was referring to the quality that allows a seemingly placid ocean to pull nations under. And perhaps what he was trying to say is that just as it would be foolish to judge the sea by its appearance, it would be wrong to identify a hero by his caste or by what he looks like. In other words, let actions speak for the man not his looks.

His words carry another truth which holds great significance for us today: the omnipotence of nature. The sea contains the fire that engulfs the world, he said. As the Tsunami wrecks Japan these words reflect an aspect of the ocean we have lost sight of.

Photograph by Rajrishi Singhal

Sunday, February 06, 2011

Egypt's 30-year jinx

The protesters at Tahrir Square in Cairo, by asking for an end to their president’s 30-year rule, are perpetuating a practice that originated in Egypt sometime at the beginning of civilisation. The Egyptian myths about kings and pharaohs tell us that a ruler could rule for a maximum of 30 years; interestingly, the same number of years that Mubarak has been in power.

According to Donald Mackenzie (Egyptian myth and legend) Egyptian rulers were considered to be representatives of the god Osiris. During their reign, their word was law and their acts divine. But every 30 years the kings had to step down. They were then killed and in a gruesome cannibalistic tradition, feasted upon.

The belief, as we find in many myths, was that all that is old must die to create the new. Death was not seen as the end of a life but as a necessary requirement for a new one. Thus ingesting the old king was a way to ensure that his spirit lived on among his people and in the new king.

The ritual came to an end under the reign of King Zaru who said that killing the king was disrespectful of the god he represented. It would be far more effective, he said, if a representative of the king in the form of cattle or goat was sacrificed. And therein probably lies the origin of animal sacrifice and as anecdotal evidence suggests, the term 'scapegoat'. (The latter may be completely off track as I have found no etymological proof for this.)

However to come back to the point, no king lasted more than thirty years. If he did not voluntarily make way for his successor, he was forced to do so. King Mubarak may be spared the fate of the ancient kings but he may not be able to escape Egypt’s 30-year jinx.

Wednesday, January 19, 2011

Tricked out of immortality

Garuda and Gilgamesh are two heroes as unlike one another that one could find. One is a bird and the other human; Garuda belongs to the vast pantheon of Indian theriomorphs (deities represented in animal form) while Gilgamesh is the Sumer-Babylonian hero-king. Gilgamesh grapples with a series of adventures that take him closer to the divine principles of valour, love and compassion while Garuda’s heroic journey takes him close to Vishnu, the preserver god in the Indian trinity.

However both share a divine lineage. Garuda is the son of Kasyapa (sometimes referred to as Prajapati) and Vinata (daughter of Daksha Prajapati) while Gilgamesh is said to be the son of Lugalbanda, a god. And they are both heroes, albeit from two different species.

The two also have another, more interesting, aspect in common: both play a part in denying mankind and other species of this planet the right to immortality. But for them, we could have lived forever!

Garuda's story: Garuda is tasked with fetching the nectar of immortality or Amrita from the heavens for the snakes. In return, he is promised freedom for his mother who has been enslaved by the snake clan for centuries. While there is a long tale in how Garuda manages to get the nectar out of Indra’s clutches, we shall go into that later.

As Garuda is flying away with the jar of Amrita, Indra shoots at him but the arrow barely manages to graze his plumage. When weapons fail, even the gods resort to persuasion. So Indra appeals to Garuda. He tells him that the consequences of giving immortality to the snake clan will be disastrous. Garuda, a sworn enemy of the snake clan, is easily convinced. And the two cook up a plot to trick the snakes out of their end of the deal.

As promised, Garuda flies in with the jar of nectar for the snakes. But, he tells them, he will place the jar down only after his mother has been freed. The snakes release his mother and Garuda sets the jar of Amrita down on the patch of kusa grass, as planned.

However, before the snakes can get a taste of nectar, Garuda asks them to bathe and cleanse themselves in the holy river. The snakes scurry off and Garuda flies away with his mother leaving Indra to play out his part of the plot.

Indra swoops in, takes the jar away and thereby denies the snakes their promised jar of nectar. The snakes are furious but all they can do is lick the grass for a few drops of the Amrita. But so sharp is the grass that they get a forked tongue.

Gilgamesh's story: Gilgamesh on the other hand finds his way to Utnapishtim, the man-god who is the only survivor of the great flood. He has been granted the boon of immortality by the gods.

Shattered by the death of his friend and soul mate, Enkidu, Gilgamesh wants to defeat death. He goes through a series of adventures till he finds Utnapishtim and asks for the flower of immortality.

Utnapishtim is not willing to part with the flower but Gilgamesh persists. And he is finally granted his desire but there is a condition: the flower must be carried on his person at all times. He cannot put it down at any point in time.

As is the case with such stories -- in myth and in folklore -- the condition is not met. Gilgamesh fails the test as he leaves the flower on a river bank for a quick dip. When he comes back up, he is distraught to see the flower being carried away by a snake. And thus, immortality that was within the human grasp was lost. However in this story, the snakes emerge victorious and that is why it is said, they manage to live forever by sloughing off their skins!

Two tricks, two heroes but one result. In the Garuda story, the gods trick the snakes and, in a way, all living beings. In the Gilgamesh story, the gods trick men but the snakes, unwittingly though, emerge as victors.

In both cases, those who desire immortality are denied its fruits. Garuda, incidentally is granted immortality because he did not want it for himself. But all other beings on the planet are not granted the keys to the kingdom of eternal life. In retrospect, this may well be a blessing in disguise!

Wednesday, January 05, 2011

Birds and heroes

In the earlier post, I had written briefly about Garuda whose heroic feat earned him his place as Vishnu's vahana. Garuda, unlike Gayatri, is a male bird and he fetches Amrita for his mother while Gayatri gets Soma for the gods. The two myths use similar motifs but may have been developed for completely different purposes.

For one the Garuda myth is much longer and far more layered than the one about meters. Garuda's unusual birth is described in detail as is his journey to get the Amrita. He has to get it to free his mother, ensnared by her sister and her snake children. Gayatri has to get Soma because the gods want it, the myth does not offer a deeper rationale for the quest.

The other difference is that Garuda has to cross several barriers and fight the guards of Amrita to be able to get a jar for his mother. The meters, on the other hand, manage the exchange more amicably. Gayatri, in fact, (the myth does not say how) gets the nectar without giving up anything at all.

The Garuda myth also reflects the traditional rivalry between the snake kingdom and the kingdom of birds. The Gayatri-Soma myth does not directly touch upon any rivalries but, it is possible that the three meters or the tribes speaking these meters were in competition with each other.

So what were the myths developed for? It would be foolish to attempt a single definitive answer but it is possible that the myths were developed around the same time but by different people. Also the original Garuda myth, in all probability, has been embellished over the ages to serve different purposes. For instance, the bit about Garuda becoming a vahana for Vishnu may well be a later addition. It is possible that there existed a tribe of Garuda worshippers who were assimilated into the Vedic fold at a later stage.

The Garuda myth also goes into great detail about the birth of the hero, the call for adventure and the difficulties and the final quest. This shows that the myth has been developed over a long period of time, giving it a linear and somewhat logical narrative structure.

The Gayatri-Soma myth is not as detailed and since it deals with an abstract concept is not as easily grasped. It also seems to be created for the express purpose of establishing the supremacy of one meter or the tribe speaking in that meter over the rest. In that sense it is not a true hero myth but, in Malinowskian terms, a charter myth which is created with the sole purpose of explaining a social event or function or human behaviour.