Kadambari
In Sanskrit there is
no work of prose
occupying a higher
eminence than Bana’s
Kadambari.
In every way
superior to Subandhu
and Dandin, the
authors of
Vasavadatta
and
Dasakumara caritra,
who also flourished
and wrote about the
same time, Bana’s
imaginative art
excels. Even when
the prose of Bana is
heavy with verbal
plays and reveals
‘cleverness in
composition, its aim
is what
distinguishes it
from theirs’. He
obviously has a
transcendent
purpose, the
attainment of the
expression of true
beauty.
It is the real
artist’s creative
power to portray
vigorously and
picturesquely the
passions and
emotions. The
composition is
apparently in the
katha
style, that is, it
is a particular kind
of composition which
emboxes a narrative
within a narrative.
The advantages of
this kind of
composition are that
it helps expression
or rather self
expression of each
character within the
story and the
personal touch
maintains interest
in the story as a
whole. The story of
Kadambari
is a complex one,
but the main
features of the
story can be briefly
outlined.
There was a king
named Sudraka. Into
his court a woman of
the caste of the
chandalas
(outcastes) brings a
parrot gifted with
speech. This parrot
is induced by the
king to tell its
tale. It narrates
that it was reared
by its father-parrot
while yet a
stripling. One day a
hunter caught all
the parrots on the
tree where they
dwelt. The
father-parrot was
killed but the young
one escaped death.
It was picked up by
a hermit belonging
to the Ashrama of
Rishi Jabali, out of
pity and compassion.
When it was placed
before the Rishi,
the Rishi gifted
with prescience
narrated to his
disciples the story
of the parrot how
out of
karma
it had become a
parrot. Because of
its foolishness on
its previous lives,
it fell down to its
present low place.
This story is
faithfully narrated
by the parrot to the
king Sudraka.
Tarapida, king of
Ujjayini, had a wife
Vilasavati, and a
brahman
minister named
Sukanasa. By Siva’s
favour, Chandrapida
was born as son to
the royal couple,
and Sukanasa begot a
son also named
Vaisampayana. The
two boys were
brought up together.
On attaining age
they were sent out
on a mission of
conquest.
Chandrapida was
given a wonderful
horse called
Indrayudha, and a
faithful servant
companion
Pattralekha. For
three years they
went out conquering
other kings till
they reached
Hemakuta. One day
Chandrapida pursuing
two
kinnaras
near Hemakuta leaves
his followers and
wearied of pursuit
finally reaches a
lake. There he sees
a maiden, Mahasveta,
doing penance. From
here he learns her
sad tale, how she
met one Pundarika,
the son of Rishi
Svetaketu and Sri or
Lakshmi (Goddess of
wealth), how she
fell in love with
him and was loved,
and how he perished
while she hesitated
to cast aside her
shame and mate with
him without her
parent’s leave. She
wished to die on the
beloved’s funeral
pyre but then a
divine figure
(Moon-God himself)
carried away his
body and promised
her reunion, and in
the meanwhile bid
her to wait for that
day. From Mahasveta
Chandrapida learns
of her friend and
relation Kadambari.
He meets her and
falls in love. She
too reciprocates but
both of them are
reticent about their
overflowing love.
Chandrapida gets a
call to go back to
Ujjayini from his
father, and making
sure he is loved by
Kadambari, he
returns to Ujjayini
asking his friend
Vaisampayana to
bring up the army. A
few days after,
Pattralekha who had
seen left behind
with Kadambari
returns and assures
him of Kadambari’s
genuine love and
devotion for him.
Bana’s story ends
abruptly at this
place as the great
master, it appears,
died. His son
however informed
with the plot
continues the story.
After a few days,
taking permission of
his father
Chandrapida goes out
to meet his friend
Vaisampayana who he
had ordered to come
with the army after
him. On the way he
hears that
Vaisampayana had
disappeared he
having insisted upon
staying on the banks
of the lake where
Mahasveta dwells.
Chandrapida returns
to the city with the
news and is blamed
by the King for the
loss of
Vaisampayana.
However the father
of the latter
censures his son’s
conduct. Chandrapida
however is sent back
to seek his comrade.
Chandrapida reaches
the lake and meets
Mahasveta who
narrates to him that
a
brahman
youth sought her
love but she being
faithful to
Pundarika denied him
love and when he
pressed her she
cursed him to become
a parrot. He fell
lifeless at once. On
hearing this,
Chandrapida fell
down lifeless with
his heart broken. At
that very moment
Kadambari comes
there and is
overcome by sorrow.
But a divine voice
reassures Mahasveta
of reunion with
Pundarika and bids
Kadambari and her to
preserve the body of
Chandrapida which
has lost its soul
because of a curse
but would revive
later. Both
Pattralekha and
Indrayudha enter the
lake. Indrayudha
emerges out of the
lake as Kapinjala,
the bosom friend of
Pundarika, and
meeting Mahasveta
tells her the truth.
Chandrapida is an
incarnation of the
Moon-God himself,
Vaisampayana was
Pundarika and
Indrayudha was
Kapinjala. He also
promises reunion.
Kapinjala is however
unable to say who
Pattralekha was and
what happened to her
after her bath in
the lake. Mahasveta
becomes more
miserable but
consoled. The body
of Chandrapida
remains intact
without showing
signs of decay. Both
his father and
mother come to live
nearby it while
Kadambari looks
after it.
When this story was
told by the Rishi
Jabali, the parrot
began to realize
that its previous
lives were those of
Vaisampayana and
Pundarika, and now
out of his folly he
became a parrot,
lacking
self-control. Jabali
tells the parrot to
continue to stay on
at the Ashrama and
blesses it, that in
due time, it would
again get united
with Chandrapida.
But in a few days
having got
sufficient strength
in its wings to fly,
it sought to reach
Chandrapida but was
ordered to be
captured on the way
by the Chandala
woman who now had
brought it there to
the King Sudraka.
The Chandala lady
when sent for said
that she was Sri,
the mother of
Pundarika, who had
the parrot caught,
and now that the
work of retrieving
him by his father
Rishi Svetaketu and
herself had been
completed, he was
brought to him.
Saying this she
disappeared. King
Sudraka realizing
that he was indeed
Chandrapida dies and
awakens in the body
of Chandrapida in
the arms of
Kadambari who at
that very moment
embraces it.
Pundarika arrives
there. The marriages
of Chandrapida with
Kadambari and of
Pundarika with
Mahasveta take place
amid great
rejoicing. Complete
Happiness reigns at
Ujjayini and
Hemakuta.
Thus far the story
told with enchanting
vigour.
The art with which
the great author has
presented it is
capable of being
considered in many
ways. Though a
complex plot mixing
supernaturalism,
myth and fancy, it
reveals a truly
human understanding
of the sentiments
that move such
supernatural and
mythical characters.
The story itself is
not in outlines at
least new. Its
original is
considered by
competent critics to
be the
Brihat katha
of Gunadhya on the
basis of a version
of story found in
the collection known
as
Kathasaritsagara
or the Ocean of
story (translated
into English by
Tawney). But what
Bana did with that
story is something
remarkable, if
indeed he did get
his outlines from
that source. He gave
it a new direction
and raised it from
the level of a mere
katha to the status
of a piece of art, a
thing of beauty.
According to ancient
Hindu poeticians (alamkarikas),
a work of art must
exhibit a chief
rasa,
poetic sentiment.
There are nine
rasas
of which the chief
ones that grant real
happiness are
sringara
or love (in its
double poise of
union with and
separation from the
beloved) and
santa,
peace. The chief
rasa
of Kadambari is
sringara
or love. It is the
love of Pundarika to
Mahasveta which
cannot stand a
moment’s denial or
hesitation on the
other’s part, it is
the love that
Mahasveta displays
in and through her
self-sacrifice and
penance and patient
waiting and in her
one-pointed love to
him that even makes
her curse
Vaisampayana to
become a parrot, a
base sensual
creature whom she
unfortunately could
not recognize as her
own beloved
Pundarika in another
incarnation. It is
again the love that
Kadambari shows to
Chandrapida after
whose dead body she
attends assiduously
awaiting the day of
union. These are
wonderful portrayals
of love that has
become sublime and
divine though
passing through the
physical phases.
There is an ethereal
air about this type
of love. In these
relations between
the two sets of
lovers there is
nothing that is
demeaning or
disgraceful or
vulgar. There is the
sublime touch of the
epic heroines in the
two characters
Mahasveta and
Kadambari, which
recalls the names of
Damayanti and
Savitri: a fate
governs their
separation and
purifies their love
through life and
through death or
rather through death
as through life.
Bana was a master of
his craft of
expression; but more
complete is his
mastery of the
psychological phases
of the erotic in its
elevated and
sublimated forms. A
brief extract from
the description of
the reaction of
Mahasveta firstly to
the first meeting
with Pundarika:
‘Reaching home I
entered the inner
apartments of
princesses; grieving
at his loss I was
never aware of
anything: as to
whether I returned
or was still there:
whether I was alone
or with my maids;
whether I was silent
or speaking; whether
I was asleep or
awake; whether I was
crying or not
crying; whether it
was all misery or
all happiness;
whether it was the
yearning of love or
a disease; whether
it was a calamity or
a happiness or
restivity; whether
it was night or day;
attractive or
disgusting – Being
unfamiliar with the
ways of love I
understood these
not”. On seeing
afterwards the
letter, Bana in the
words of Mahasveta
represents her
state, “By its being
seen, there was
produced (in me) by
far a greater
increase of the evil
consequences of the
malady of my love
afflicted mind, as
in one who has lost
his way by also
losing his sense of
directions; as in a
blind man by a night
in the dark
fortnight; as in a
dumb man by cutting
his tongue; as in an
ignorant man by
conjurer’s waving
peacock fan; as on a
confused talker by
the delirium of
fever; as in one
poisoned by the
fatal sleep; as in a
wicked man by
atheistic doctrines;
as in one distraught
by strong drink; or
as in one possessed
by the action of the
possessing demon; so
that in the turmoil
created in me I was
tossed like a river
in flood”.
The vividness of his
comparisons, despite
their multitude –
here there are nine
– the suggestiveness
of their nature is
one of the unique
points of Bana’s art
and style. While
there is no doubt
that many readers of
Bana are wearied of
this style where
comparisons and
similes and conceits
are piled up in such
rapid and unending
continuity and
profusion, in lesser
hands they become
painful art; but in
Bana’s Kadambari
there is
appropriateness and
brilliance, which is
not just word play
for the sake of play
on words or puns.
What Kalidasa is to
poetry so is Bana to
prose; in the use of
upamanas
none excels.
The vividness of the
same
sringara
is represented in
Kadambari’s case.
Kadambari reproaches
herself on her lack
of self-control as
becomes a princess
of her station. “I
was not afraid of
the disgrace of
being rejected by
him (Chandrapida)
nor did I fear the
elders nor the
censure of the
public. And
similarly lacking
courtesy I did not
mind that Mahasveta
was grieving, in my
stupidity I did not
even observe that my
friends who were
near me would notice
(my actions)”.
There is high
seriousness along
with or controlling
the wildest passions
of love, and
contrasted with it,
is the male love of
Pundarika and
Chandrapida, in the
former plunging into
an unbrahmanical
moral degradation
and round of lower
earthly existence,
and in Chandrapida
as strange reticence
had found its
debacle.
Despite the fact
that western savants
hold that Kadambari
is a pure work of
art for art’s sake,
Bana seems to have
made a great effort
to delineate and
express some of the
most profound
ethical and
spiritual or
mystical concepts
well known to
Vedantins and
finding expression
in the
Yoga Vasistha.
The mythological
background and
different timings or
times of the events
of the triple and
double lives of
Pundarika and
Chandrapida while
that of Mahasveta
and Kadambari
continues to be just
one eternal time can
only be explained on
the basis of the
Yoga Vasistha
conceptions.
Kadambari was
written by Bana to
exhibit this
wonderful nature of
time and the triple
paces and their
unification made
possible by the play
of love devotion and
faith. In this
respect too Bana’s
work gets the
universal quality of
wisdom, charm and
beauty.
A NOTE OF KADAMBARI
Bana utilizes the
metaphysical theory
of the Samkhya in
the description of
the birth of
Pundarika. Lakshmi
on seeing the Sage
Svetaketu (the
Parama purusha)
conceives Pundarika.
There is no
acceptance of her
love by Svetaketu.
The progeny is hers
alone though she
offers this child to
Him and He accepts
to bring up the
child. In Samkhyan
Philosophy Prakriti
through nearness to
the Purusha
conceives the
category of Buddhi
or Mahan. Though
reflecting the
beauty of the
transcendent Purusha
it has in it the
quality of passion
that was
instrumental in the
conception by
Prakriti. Pundarika
though learned is
swept off his feet
by love or lust for
Mahasveta and even
dies. Kapinjala
indeed is made to
accuse the mother of
Pundarika for his
amorous infatuation
and death, swoon of
love.
The life that
follows, namely
Vaisampayana, as is
a son of a brahman
minister, a lesser
status than that of
the previous. Love
lowers him in the
scale. He again
falls because of his
memory of the woman,
a vague memory, a
supreme principle of
smrti; and again
pays with his life.
The life of the
parrot is the
result. The parrot
is also granted
smrti by the Grace
of the Rishi Jabali
but release is yet
distant. The smrti
causes the parrot to
seek to return to
its former love. But
the Mother Lakshmi
comes and rescues
the parrot, her own
son Pundarika. The
mother or Prakrti,
reminds the author,
has been performing
a Yajna with the
Great sage Svetaketu
(the Purusha) for
the redeeming of
their child. In the
Samkhyan system, the
prakrti is also the
releaser. But the
author of the
Kadambari gives a
new turn, the soul
is rescued by the
Mother and the
primal Purusha.
Mother is at once
the binder and
creator and
releaser. But there
is enrichment of the
created soul though
it had to go through
terrific pangs of
separation and
frustrated love. The
moral of the story
again is Vedantic.
Even love of the
most wonderful
should never be
against rules of
consent. It not only
affects the
individual but also
his progeny. ‘Not
only are we the
inheritors of the
virtues of our
ancestors but also
of their vices’ said
Nietzsche, recalling
the ancient truth of
the Law of Karma.