Three-hundred Ramayanas, yes, but, 300 Mahabharathas?! Maybe!!

Students of mythology have read and reread AK Ramanujan’s essay, ‘Three-hundred Ramayanas’ that identifies and discusses the numerous retellings of the epic found across the entire Indian sub-continent and beyond.

While the Mahabharatha could never claim equal appeal, its pan-Indian influences have been considerable. The epic did apparently elicit a lot of interest in southern India in the ancient times.

Pandiyan era copper inscriptions dated to 10^th century AD make a specific mention of the ‘Mathurapuri Sangam' that translated the ‘Mabharatham’.  Similarly, inscriptions dating to the Pallava period tell us that arrangements were made to narrate/read the story of Mahabharatha across the kingdom. It’s not surprising then that ‘Arjuna’s penance’ finds a place in the famed rock-cut carvings of Mahabalipuram, the pinnacle of Pallava architecture.

Based on literary evidence, scholars point to strong connections established between the Pandavas and the kings of the South, mostly in the form of political alliances through marriage. These connections subsequently found their way into the public imagination in the form of folk lore.

Thus, in these stories, we find the characters from the epic engaging and interacting seamlessly with the local characters  - both mythical and historical.

Folk lore in the ballad form called ‘Ammanai’

These stories have been narrated in a ballad form called ‘Ammanai’.  The ‘Ammanai’ is in the form of questions and answers. A poet by the name of Pugazhendhi is believed to have composed several such ballads. These ballads, which primarily existed in the oral tradition, were brought to print in the late 19^th and early 20^th centuries.

Arjuna as the son-in-law of a Pandiya king

As already mentioned, although the folk versions of these stories adhere to the basic plot of the epic, they take a lot of liberty with the sub-plots by introducing several new characters, alien to the epic but intrinsic to the local milieu. Most of the stories are thus set in the Pandiya kingdom and the local stories are cleverly intertwined with the characters from the epic.

Arjuna is a central character in several stories and is often referred to as Vijayan. He is shown as establishing political liaisons through marriage with the princesses from the Pandiya kingdom. A scholar named Ramanujachari, in his Tamil translation of the Sanskrit work ‘Vyasa Bharatha’, quotes verses from Tholkaappiyam (the oldest known work in Tamil) which mention Arjuna as being the son-in-law of a Pandiya king.

While many stories acknowledge Arjuna as a warrior par excellence, he is also often shown to be lusting after beautiful women. Most of the new characters introduced into these retellings are women he married while on his exile including Alli, Pavalakodi and Min Oliyaal.

In one such story, Arjuna desires the daughter of a Pandiya king, Alli. Alli is depicted as a warrior queen who killed a man when she was just 7 years old. (The character of Alli is modelled on Madurai’s iconic goddess Meenakshi.)

One day when Alli was sleeping, Arjuna tied the mangalsutra (thaali) around her neck. When she woke up, Alli was livid. She immediately took her weapons to fight Arjuna. In the combat that ensued, Arjuna was defeated. But even when defeated, Arjuna continued to pine for her love. Even Bhima, with all his might and prowess could not help Arjuna, and fled from a battle with Alli. Finally, with the help of a plan suggested by Sahadeva, Arjuna captured and confined Alli to a tiger’s cage, where he managed to marry her.

Centred around man-woman relationships and sexually explicit

These stories are mostly centred around man-woman relationships, and unlike the epic, don’t bother to dwell much on the subject of dharma. Thus, most of the stories are about the romantic liaisons of Arjuna or his exploits of adventure. These stories can thus be seen as a continuation of the literary legacy inherited from two key Tamil works belonging to the Sangam era – Aga Naanuru and Pura Naanuru. (Aga Naanuru are primarily love poems whereas Pura Naanuru deliberates on the war exploits of the man.) For instance, the concept of marriage by abduction/eloping (kalavu) is a recurring theme in Sangam literature.  This idea is repeated in some of the folk tales too.

The other thing about these stories is that they are sexually explicit. The folklorist does not shy away from recounting in detail the sexual encounters of the men.   

Karna’s longing for sexual intimacy with his wife

In a ballad based on Karna’s life, he is shown as being married to a woman by the name Ponnuruvi. Taking Karna to be from an inferior caste, Ponnaruvi does not allow Karna to have a sexual relationship with her. But Karna wants to leave behind a progeny before he leaves for Kurukshetra.

So one day, on the advice of Krishna (Mayon), when Ponnaruvi is lying unconscious he has intercourse with her. When Ponnuruvi realises that she has been violated, she is extremely upset.  She tries to abort her child but is unsuccessful. Eventually she delivers Karna’s child. Karna’s inferior caste comes to the fore yet again when Ponnuruvi refuses to bid farewell to him before he leaves for the war. It is at this juncture that Karna reveals to his wife his identity as Kunti’s son. On coming to know of Karna’s true birth status, there is a sudden shift in Ponnuruvi’s attitude towards her husband. She then bids him a cheerful adieu, but not before Karna warns her of his imminent death on the battle field. He also cautions her not to go join the Pandavas after his death, but to leave for her father’s house. Karnas’s distrust and hatred for the Pandavas and his loyalty to the Kauravas comes through in this story.

Interestingly, the folk lore is more sympathetic to Karna’s identity crisis than the epic itself. There is a moving expression of Karna’s personal tragedy in this ballad.

The revenge of Draupadi

While the epic itself may not have dispensed satisfactory justice to Draupadi in the case of her disrobing, the folk lorist tries to make amends….to a certain extent.

In a ballad that is dedicated to Draupadi, there is a story about her disrobing. During the shameful act, Draupadi’s honour is saved by Krishna who covers her body with unending length of silk sarees.  After the Pandavas accompanied by Draupadi leave the court, Duryodhana has the sarees sent to his harem which is then divided among the hundred wives of the Kauravas. Wearing these silk sarees, the wives parade the streets of Hastinapura. Seeing this, Draupadi is very upset. With her magical prowess, she turns the sarees into birds, which fly off leaving the Kaurava wives stark naked in public. The onlookers laugh while the Kaurava wives are shamed. Thus does Draupadi have her revenge on the Kaurava men for whom their honour lay in the honour of their women.

Above all, what I found most charming thing about these stories is that they are unpretentious and supremely expressive, much like our ‘Bambaiya Hindi’, but without compromising on the literary value.

Of course, these stories have to be understood in the context of the times they were told. If we are willing to approach these stories with an open mind, there are many more waiting to be told…...

Stories extracted from Aa.Ka. Perumal’s book – Arjunanin Tamil Kaadaligal

(Arjuna’s Tamil Lady Loves)

Gems & Jewellery in Indian mythology

Indians have always been the largest consumers of gold, even from the days of the Roman Empire (around the first century BCE), when the Romans filled the coffers of the Indian kings with gold in exchange for exotic animals and spices, sugar, dyes, pearls and fine muslin cloth. Endowed with superior metallurgical skills, Indians turned the gold into beautiful pieces of jewellery that adorned the bodies of men and women.

Not surprisingly then that jewels and ornaments have been an indispensable part of Indian mythology.

A sweeping view of the instances where gems and jewellery feature prominently in our stories throws up a few recurring patterns on how they have been used as common motifs to convey certain ideas.

One major idea that ornaments have been used to convey is that of purity and virtuousity.

For instance, in the most famous story about ornaments and indeed named after one - Silapathigaaram (literally meaning the chapter/episode of an anklet), Kannagi the protagonist uses her anklet to prove her husband’s innocence. Her anklet is filled with rubies whereas, the one that her innocent husband Kovalan is charged of stealing (a crime for which he is wrongly convicted and killed) has pearls in it. She breaks open hers in the court of the Pandya king and the blood-red rubies falling out from the broken anklet serve to uphold her husband’s integrity.

Although, in Kannagi’s story, her anklet could not help bring her dead husband back to life, in the story of Abhirami Bhattar, the earring of Goddess Abhirami (an incarnation of Parvathi) actually saves his life. Once, Abhirami Bhattar a great devotee of Goddess Abhirami, while meditating on the moon-like lustrous face of the goddess, mistakenly told his king that a particular day was a full moon day when it was actually a new moon day. The king of course took the Bhattar's statement as wanton dishonesty and sentenced him to death if the moon did not rise in the sky as predicted. Cornered by the turn of events, the Bhattar fervently appealed to the goddess who saved the day and his life by throwing her dazzling earring into the sky where it shone like the full moon. Thus did the goddess prove her devotee's virtuousity to the world.

In another test of purity, this time of friendship, there is an interesting story about Karna in the Mahabharatha. One day, in Duryodhana’s absence, Karna was playing dice with Bhanumathi, Duryodhana’s wife, in the harem. Just as the game got very exciting, Duryodhana entered the harem. Seeing her husband walk in, Bhanumathi sprung up from her seat to go receive him. But, Karna who had not seen Duryodhana enter, was surprised to see Bhanumathi leap up suddenly. In a swift act to stop her from walking away from the game, he made a grab for her waistband (mekala). His tug at the band caused it to snap and the pearls to scatter all over the floor. Bhanumathi froze in confusion and fear. Only then did Karna take note of Duryodhana’s presence there. And when he did, he shrunk back with shame and horror over what he had done; his had been a deplorable and discourteous act, even if spontaneous! No friend would ever pardon such misdemeanour!

But the honourable Duryodhana remained unperturbed by what he had seen. Without blinking an eye but with a smile on his face, he calmly addressed the two and asked them if he should help them collect the pearls or help in stringing them back!!

Such was the purity of Duryodhana’s friendship with Karna, brought to the fore by the episode of the pearl-studded mekala.

Apart from serving as a touchstone for a person’s culpability or otherwise, ornaments have also been used to establish one’s identity as seen in the cases of Karna’s earrings and Rama’s ring.

In the show of skills organised at Hastinapura, it was Karna’s earrings (along with his armour) that helped Kunti identify him as her forsaken son.

The Ramayana extensively uses ornaments like we use our Aadhaar J, as unshakeable proof of one's identity. While being carried away by Ravana, Sita shrewdly used her ornaments to leave a trail of her abduction by scattering them on the ground below all the way to Lanka. This (expensive!) trail was later picked up by Rama and Lakshmana who followed it all the way to the Rishyamukha mountain, where they met with Hanuman. Later, at Kishkinda, Sugriva handed over some more of Sita's ornaments, that he had retrieved, to Rama.

Interestingly, in one of the versions of the Ramayana, Lakshmana’s chastity is demonstrated when he fails to recognise any of Sita’s ornaments other than her anklets because he had never seen Sita’s face or any part of her body but had always sought blessings at her feet and could thus recognise only her anklet!

And later in the story, as Sita sat grieving her fate in Ravana’s palace garden, ironically called the Ashokavana (a forest without sorrow), Hanuman dropped Rama’s ring on to Sita’s lap from the tree above before presenting himself to her. The ring helped prove Hanuman’s identity as Rama’s messenger to Sita. In return, Sita handed over her sudamani another of her ornaments (apparently, she still had some stock left with her even after jettisoning several!) to Hanuman, to convey her wellbeing to her husband.

In Kalidasa’s epic, Shakunthala is given a signet ring by Dushyantha that helps the king remember her when suffering from a memory lapse caused by Durvasa's curse. Yet another case of identity, lost and found!

Well, these were some instances where jewellery helped bring about positive twists in the stories. But, that was not always the case. Remember the picture of Kaikeyi, who lay on the floor, shorn of all ornaments, sulking away, waiting to place her demands before Dasharatha? A woman who shed some miscellaneous jewellery so she could gain the kingdom for her son – that’s some return on investments!! Anyway, the picture of Kaikeyi denuded of ornaments rattled Dasharatha so much that he agreed to change the course of Ayodhya’s royal history.

Apart from jewellery, gems too have had a considerable role to play in our stories. While they have been frequently referred to as having life giving properties and as bestowers of prosperity, sometimes, they also brought on ill-luck to their owners.

A classic example of the former is the Mritasanjivani gem and that of the latter is the Syamanthaka gem.

The Mritasanjivani gem was used by Ulupi, the Naga princess whom Arjuna married, to revive the Pandava’s life when he was killed by his son Babruvahana's in a battle. In line with the common belief that snakes are the guardians of gems, the Mritasanjivani was owned by the Nagas and had the power to bring back the dead to life.

The Syamanthaka mani on the other hand gem bestowed mixed fortunes upon its owners. Although the gem that gave the sun god Surya his exuberant brilliance had the power to bring prosperity to the place of its residence, its journey through the various hands it passed into was mostly tumultuous and bloody. At a point in the gem’s journey, even Lord Krishna was suspected of coveting it. And desire for the gem eventually led to the death of its original owner (Satrajit) and those who tried to wear it (Prasen and a lion). In short, the gem brought on only misfortune for those who tried to possess it – not surprising then that the Syamanthaka mani is believed by many to be the infamous Kohinoor diamond!!

Yet another story, where a jewel that had the power to bestow prosperity and good health but was sadly lost to human frailties, is that of Ashwathama. Ashwathama was born with a jewel on his forehead, which kept fear, disease and hunger at bay. But after his brutal murder of the unsuspecting sons of the Pandavas at the end of the war, Lord Krishna took the jewel away from him causing the dent on his forehead (where the jewel lay embedded) to rot with blood and pus. Additionally, Ashwathama was cursed to spend eternity on the earth in that repulsive condition!!

There are more stories of jewellery waiting to be told from Greek and Norse mythology too. Will keep that for later….