Schelling's book has four sections, each representing a geographical zone. It covers poets from 1BCE to the 20th century. Each poet is introduced with his/her fascinating life legend. “ Bhakti took birth in Dravidian lands/ ripened in Karnataka, came to/ womanhood in Maharastra,/ grew crone-like in Gujarat/ Reaching Vrindavana she re-emerged/ a nubile young woman.” Sensual, defiant, and experimental, Bhakti blazed the vernacular, shattering Sanskrit hegemony. Schelling admits that “there exist, hundreds, even thousands of poets”, and wonders whether other creeds should not also be included.
South
Shaivite poets abound. Tipputollar's Muruga incantation is a maturing germ. “ This is the hill of the Red one/ of red glory lilies/ flowers of blood” , followed by Nakkirar (6c) “ The women/wear wreathes of buds/ fingered and forced to blossom/ so they smell differently /../ in leaf skirts/shaking/ on their jeweled mounds of venus/../ the shaman/ is the Red one himself” on to Manikkavasakar (9c) “I wept/ danced, and cried aloud,/ I sang and I praised him” . The Vira Saiva poets emerged in the 10{+t}{+h} century. Mahadeviakka is implacable (12c) “My lord, white as jasmine, is my husband./ Take these husbands who die/ decay, and feed them/ to your kitchen fire!' ( Tr.Ramanujam ). Among the 12 Alvars, Antal,(9c) rules. Krishna is her husband. “ The gnat entering the woodpile/ hollows it-/ the lord entering me/ has taken all/ consumed my woman hood.” (Tr. Dehjia). Ksetrayya's (7c) fascinating poems on Muvva Gopala's love-making, are jointly rendered by Ramanujam, Rao, and Schulman.
Bhakti in the man is fervid “ O, Lord of Caves, if you are light, there can be no metaphor .” (Allama). The women may “crush theirlords with their pitcher breasts” (Akka) or turn harlot to get Him (Sule).
West
The Varkaris, mostly from the trodden class, wrote earthy poetry. Chokhamela affirms that his low trade cannot affect his divine merger. “ The sugarcane is twisted, not the juice/../ Choka is twisted/ not his faith' (Tr.Punekar). “ The pallav of my sari/ falls away/ Yet I will enter the crowded market place/ without a thought/ My Lord / I have become a slut/ to reach Your home” . (Janabai/ Tr. Sarang). Shaivism permeates Vaishnavism. “ I found/ the ever-pure Shiva to my heart's content/ embodied in Vithoba” (Namdev/ Tr.Chitre). In rendering Tukaram and Janabai true, Dilip Chitre does it simple.
North
Lal Ded (Kashmiri,13c,) wandered Akka-like, naked, extolling Neel-kanth: “ You are the sandalwood paste/ the water, flowers and all else/ What could I possibly bring/ as an offering?” (Tr.Kaul). Kabir, Surdas, Ravidas, and Dadu Dayal, all low born, swept the North. Kabir, Western tradition, is depicted through Pound. “ How shall I describe the beauty of the dearest/ who is immersed in all beauties?” Kabir, Eastern tradition, is the reformer. “Saints, I see the world is mad /../The Hindu says Ram is the beloved/ The Turk says Rahim/ Then they kill each other / No one knows the secret ”. “ I have seen the pious Hindus, /../ killing souls they worship rocks./../ I have seen plenty of Muslim teachers,/ reading their holy books and teaching their pupils techniques” ( Tr . Hess, Singh ). Bly's collected Kabir is America's favourite. “ The caller calls in a loud voice to the Holy one at dusk./ Why? Surely The Holy One is not deaf”. Ravidas (14c) is insight. “ Even your family/ your brothers and friends/ clamour to have you removed at dawn” . (Tr. Hawley, Juergensmayer). Mirabai (Rajput, 15c) revels in Krishna passion, defying social customs. “Mira's heart went with the Dark One/ tonight in her solitude/ infidelity spits/ like a snake”. (Tr.Schelling)
East
“Radha Krishna” romances initiated by Jayadeva (12c) turned into a never-ending love movement. “Then she lay frightened, beautiful as a doll/ he hovered like a bee round a lotus in a painting” –Vidyapati . “My heart like a doe leapt into his nets/ leaving the cage of my breast empty” – Jagadananda (Tr. Dimock-Levertov). Schelling's Gitagovinda translations could have been done better. Bhattacharya's Vidyapati “She knew her love treasure was being robbed/ With her dress she covered up her breasts/ The treasure was left uncovered” and Chandidasa “The sky fell with my dress, leaving my ravished breasts” are brilliant. Chandidasa excels in Radha-Krishna “ madhuriya”. “ Friend, who was that girl/ inflaming the river/ with her fair skin?/ The gold necklace/ on the peaks of her breasts/ shone as the moon on the mountain snow”.( Bhattacharya ). Chandidasa's painful execution at the Nawab's hands with his Ramoni watching on, makes touching reading.
Sakta poems show Kali Ma as the mother of all change. The icons are Kamalakanta and Ramprasad Sen. “…Your feet, Ma,/ the only place that truly exists .” (Dimran/Tr. McDermott). For the wandering Bauls, love is Sadhana. Excerpts from Tagore's Bhanusimha in the Jayadeva tradition provide the finale.
Schelling's book is a treasure-house with remarkably well studded interiors. Two omissions disappoint: Bahinabai (Maharastra) and Puntanam (Kerala). Bhakti poetry, innate to Indian poetics, will continue to plume and fascinate. Schelling's Oxford anthology is not just a beginning. It is an event.
email:gopikottoor@gmail.com
