04-05-2005, 10:27 AM
This is the wrong thread, but I would prefer it be here so as not to disrupt another thread.
I had to wait over twenty years for someone else to write so, as it would have been inappropriate for me to do this. We have to open our eyes and see the implications. I have only full praise for persons who take the puranas-itithasas as works of poetry, and be inspired and moved, but once we take it literally, as actual events in history, as scriptures, as doctrines, as the word of god - then we may be moving into controversial waters, and the spiritual edifices itself may fall.
We would like to know what was the the state of Hinduism in 500 BCE. Hindus today are no longer buying the sacrosanctity of shastras, mathas and Hindu personages. Everything is being challenged, subtely, and I have chosen not to be point blank.
Pathma
Especially for Viren, and Sunder, and..all.
<b>The spiritual vs the literary dimensions of the Ramayana
Tension between scholarship and devotion: Is the Ramayana literature or history?</b>
This is a matter of great interest
from the perspective of history and comparative literature; but it is also a
very sensitive question in a dynamic living religion. Dispassionate
scholars, even with great reverence and admiration for the work, may explore
the genesis of this grand creation of the human spirit. But to those of the
tradition, the work carries far more significance than its literary
richness. Sometimes there is the fear that a purely scholarly approach
might shake the stability of sacred icons and time-honored practices.
The tension between scholarship and tradition is nothing new. It is a
cultural manifestation of the perennial conflict between the head and the
heart. All through human history, in practically every society touched by
civilization, the behavior and beliefs of tradition have been analyzed, not
to say challenged, by inquiring minds. Such efforts often result in newer
insights and greater understanding, but they also cause discomfort, not to
say shock, on many people. In spiritual matters, the conquests of the mind
tend to upset the joyous heart. An impeccable proof to the effect that no
almighty God lovingly holds His protective hand over our heads when we go to
sleep could result in restless and worrisome insomnia in some.
Whether one should accept the evidence of facts and the logic of
arguments, or respond to the tantalizing call of faith that assures
emotional security and spiritual ecstasy is the delicate dilemma that many
have to face in certain contexts. Some make a decisive choice, and having
done this, plead for their own preference as the only right one to make,
sometimes even deriding those who have made a different choice. Wisdom
probably lies in the recognition that there is no such thing as the right
approach in this matter, if only because one is as human as the other, and
not everyone thinks or feels the same way.
We may see in this dichotomy of human inclinations an illustration of the
ancient Hindu wisdom which sees the world and all life as a concoction of
contradictions. The same sky that is dazzlingly bright at noon is pitch dark
at midnight. The same ocean on which boats sail can also drown ships. The
same person who is loving and kind at one time can become harsh and mean at
another.
We may also look at it in terms of what physics calls the principle of
complementarity, by which ultimate reality is recognized as consisting of
apparently contradictory, but in fact mutually complementing, features.
Physicist Niels Bohr used to say that there are two kinds of truths, small
ones and great ones. A small truth is one whose contrary is clearly false.
That milk is white is a small truth, because to say that milk is black is
clearly wrong. But a great truth is one whose contrary is no less true. To
say that religions have done much good is as true a statement as that
religions have done much harm.
Centuries ago, Jaina insight spoke of anek?a v? which recognized the
multiple aspects of higher truths: Any grasp of truth depends on one's
perspective, and so can only be partial. This is an enlightened synthesis of
modesty and wisdom.
As long as we are experiencing one side of a coin, we cannot perceive the
other. But it would be a grave error to imagine that the coin has but one
side. For the analytical scholar to maintain that the spiritual dimension of
the Ramayana is without significance would be as partial a vision as that of
the religious devotee who does not recognize that bhajans and images are
meaningful symbols and instruments towards a greater goal, and have evolved
over the ages in human culture. However, it would also be rash to conclude
that those who regard the Ramayana as only literature are devoid of
spirituality, or that those who sing Ram bhajans are necessarily spiritually
more evolved.
One can drink deep of the spiritual fountain of the Ramayana if one has
grown up in the rich tradition whose sources are in the India of the ages.
It is equally possible, perhaps no less satisfying to some, to consider the
Ramayana as the work of a poet of extraordinary genius. The charm of Aesop
Fables lies not so much in the conversations and actions of the animals as
in the morals they spell out.
Keen thinkers have seen behind the stories and characters of the epic deeper
truths about the human condition and about the spiritual side of existence.
That is why the works of the great masters stand out. There is a subtle
substance in the works of Homer, Dante, Virgil, Shakespeare, and Goethe
that permeates their narratives and rhymes and meters. But what has made
Valmiki unique and unequaled is that from his creation have arisen voices
and values that have breathed life into a civilization that has lasted the
shocks of centuries. His work has inspired more art and music, more dances
and reflections, more festivals and celebrations than perhaps all the others
put together. And this, not only because it is the most ancient of them all,
but also because it has become inextricably intertwined with the life and
ideals of the common person such as the others have not been able to do.
So, when I reflect on the magic that is the Ramayana, I do so with an acute
and humble awareness of its majesty, marvel, and spiritual grandeur. There
are times when Rama and Sita become the foci of my meditation. But when I
reflect on their saga, I do so from the perspective of one who has
experienced it as poetry and as a rich source of India's ancient cultural
history. These aspects of our great epics are usually marginalized, ignored,
or unrecognized. Even scholars often tend to shy away from them.
<b>Jabali</b>
Ravana is physically strong but morally weak. There is another personage in
the epic who is rationally bright but misguided in ideals. He was a rishi,
an illustrious Brahmin too, descended from Kashyapa. He was a counselor to
Dasaratha. His name was Jabali.
When Rama embarked on his exile, Jabali was one of the many who tried to
dissuade him from the heroic sacrifice. He described Rama's decision as not
worthy of a wise man, arguing that we all must live just for our own self.
In truth, he said, none is a friend, and one can't gain something through
someone else. We are born alone in this world and we die alone. It is
mindless to be attached to father and mother. Just as we stay for a while at
a resting place when we are on a journey; our family is but a temporary
place of shelter. With such logic Jabali tried to influence Rama into
thinking that he ought not to follow that arduous path with potential for
pain and suffering. He belittled the role of the father as no more than
having been the passing guardian of the sperm from which one is born. Now
that Dasaratha was no more, Rama was undergoing all the hardship for
nothing.
Jabali went on to denigrate funerary rites (shraddha) by which food is
offered to the spirits of the departed. He called this a waste: how could
dead people eat? If one could feed those who are far away, one should be
able to feed one's traveling friends too. Jabali said that those who
instruct us to give religious gifts, perform sacrificial rites, and renounce
wealth were clever schemers who try to draw us to charity for their own
benefit.
Jabali also propounded the materialistic philosophy by which the tangible
world is everything, there is nothing beyond what tickles the senses. He
advised Rama to forget about promises and principles, and return to the
kingdom that was legitimately his.
Rama, the embodiment of virtue and righteousness, was appalled that one who
had served as his father's minister uttered such words. He rejected Jabali,
calling his ideas unwholesome, sinful, unclean and worse. He would follow
the righteous path, not only because that was the right thing to do, but
also because if he abandoned truth and returned, he would become a terrible
role model for the people. "Truth alone is the eternal royal path," he
declared, an ideal that is as valid today as whenever it was spoken. It is
in statements like this that the core wisdom of Indic seers may be found.
Rama went on to elaborate on righteous conduct to the confused Jabali,
reminding us of Krishna's preaching to Arjuna in the Gita; except that,
unlike Krishna (who spoke from his own divine wisdom), <b>Rama kept saying</b> what
Vedic rishis and other sages had told so, reminding us that the Rama of
Valmiki is noble, but still only human.
In this reply of Rama, as stated in Valmiki, there is an intriguing
statement: "It is well known that one who follows the Buddha should be
punished as one would punish a thief, and an unbeliever is equal to Buddha."
A reference to Buddha (600 B.C.E) by Rama who is said to have lived in
another yuga, raises serious questions about the date of Valmiki's
composition, not to say of Rama himself.
When the Ramayana was composed, there were unbelievers (n?ikas) in India,
as there have always been in any dynamic civilization. That a rishi would
make a cynical remark about the shraddha ceremony sounds incredible. Perhaps
the poet wanted to bring to our atention the fact that such views were
entertained even by some in the upper caste. The episode also says that
skeptics and unbelievers often lived in fear of the establishment, and
quickly disavowed their views if those in power were upset. Thus, upon
seeing Rama's reaction, Jabali retracted, saying, "Normally I don't champion
the ideas of unbelievers. I do it only if I think it would serve some
purpose." The purpose here was to bring Rama back to Ayodhya. Since that did
not work, Jabali said that he became a believer again. Indeed, Vasishtha
came to his colleague's defense, telling Rama that Jabali was only
pretending to be an unbeliever in his commendable effort to bring Rama back
home.
As in all great works, there are several conflicts in the Ramayana: The
initial conversation between Manthara and Kaikeyi was a conflict between
jealousy and generosity. The Kaiyeyi-Dasaratha conflict is between
self-centered heartlessness and paternal love. The Rama-Ravana conflict is
between nobility and depravity, between supreme good and supreme evil. And
the Jabali-Rama conflict is between materialistic atheism and enlightened
righteousness. All these reveal that human life is multi-faceted and wrought
with perennial conflicts. Through the poet's exaggeration we see the deeper
roots of superficial confrontations. If these situations had been presented
in a milder manner, we might not be able to see their full implications. By
painting them in all their gory monstrosity the poet helps us better
appreciate where meanness, jealousy, self-centeredness, lust, ignoring
righteousness, and the like can eventually lead us to.
Jabali's story shows that India was a complex civilization with many streams
of thought even in that distant age.
Dr. V. V. Raman
April 4, 2005
I had to wait over twenty years for someone else to write so, as it would have been inappropriate for me to do this. We have to open our eyes and see the implications. I have only full praise for persons who take the puranas-itithasas as works of poetry, and be inspired and moved, but once we take it literally, as actual events in history, as scriptures, as doctrines, as the word of god - then we may be moving into controversial waters, and the spiritual edifices itself may fall.
We would like to know what was the the state of Hinduism in 500 BCE. Hindus today are no longer buying the sacrosanctity of shastras, mathas and Hindu personages. Everything is being challenged, subtely, and I have chosen not to be point blank.
Pathma
Especially for Viren, and Sunder, and..all.
<b>The spiritual vs the literary dimensions of the Ramayana
Tension between scholarship and devotion: Is the Ramayana literature or history?</b>
This is a matter of great interest
from the perspective of history and comparative literature; but it is also a
very sensitive question in a dynamic living religion. Dispassionate
scholars, even with great reverence and admiration for the work, may explore
the genesis of this grand creation of the human spirit. But to those of the
tradition, the work carries far more significance than its literary
richness. Sometimes there is the fear that a purely scholarly approach
might shake the stability of sacred icons and time-honored practices.
The tension between scholarship and tradition is nothing new. It is a
cultural manifestation of the perennial conflict between the head and the
heart. All through human history, in practically every society touched by
civilization, the behavior and beliefs of tradition have been analyzed, not
to say challenged, by inquiring minds. Such efforts often result in newer
insights and greater understanding, but they also cause discomfort, not to
say shock, on many people. In spiritual matters, the conquests of the mind
tend to upset the joyous heart. An impeccable proof to the effect that no
almighty God lovingly holds His protective hand over our heads when we go to
sleep could result in restless and worrisome insomnia in some.
Whether one should accept the evidence of facts and the logic of
arguments, or respond to the tantalizing call of faith that assures
emotional security and spiritual ecstasy is the delicate dilemma that many
have to face in certain contexts. Some make a decisive choice, and having
done this, plead for their own preference as the only right one to make,
sometimes even deriding those who have made a different choice. Wisdom
probably lies in the recognition that there is no such thing as the right
approach in this matter, if only because one is as human as the other, and
not everyone thinks or feels the same way.
We may see in this dichotomy of human inclinations an illustration of the
ancient Hindu wisdom which sees the world and all life as a concoction of
contradictions. The same sky that is dazzlingly bright at noon is pitch dark
at midnight. The same ocean on which boats sail can also drown ships. The
same person who is loving and kind at one time can become harsh and mean at
another.
We may also look at it in terms of what physics calls the principle of
complementarity, by which ultimate reality is recognized as consisting of
apparently contradictory, but in fact mutually complementing, features.
Physicist Niels Bohr used to say that there are two kinds of truths, small
ones and great ones. A small truth is one whose contrary is clearly false.
That milk is white is a small truth, because to say that milk is black is
clearly wrong. But a great truth is one whose contrary is no less true. To
say that religions have done much good is as true a statement as that
religions have done much harm.
Centuries ago, Jaina insight spoke of anek?a v? which recognized the
multiple aspects of higher truths: Any grasp of truth depends on one's
perspective, and so can only be partial. This is an enlightened synthesis of
modesty and wisdom.
As long as we are experiencing one side of a coin, we cannot perceive the
other. But it would be a grave error to imagine that the coin has but one
side. For the analytical scholar to maintain that the spiritual dimension of
the Ramayana is without significance would be as partial a vision as that of
the religious devotee who does not recognize that bhajans and images are
meaningful symbols and instruments towards a greater goal, and have evolved
over the ages in human culture. However, it would also be rash to conclude
that those who regard the Ramayana as only literature are devoid of
spirituality, or that those who sing Ram bhajans are necessarily spiritually
more evolved.
One can drink deep of the spiritual fountain of the Ramayana if one has
grown up in the rich tradition whose sources are in the India of the ages.
It is equally possible, perhaps no less satisfying to some, to consider the
Ramayana as the work of a poet of extraordinary genius. The charm of Aesop
Fables lies not so much in the conversations and actions of the animals as
in the morals they spell out.
Keen thinkers have seen behind the stories and characters of the epic deeper
truths about the human condition and about the spiritual side of existence.
That is why the works of the great masters stand out. There is a subtle
substance in the works of Homer, Dante, Virgil, Shakespeare, and Goethe
that permeates their narratives and rhymes and meters. But what has made
Valmiki unique and unequaled is that from his creation have arisen voices
and values that have breathed life into a civilization that has lasted the
shocks of centuries. His work has inspired more art and music, more dances
and reflections, more festivals and celebrations than perhaps all the others
put together. And this, not only because it is the most ancient of them all,
but also because it has become inextricably intertwined with the life and
ideals of the common person such as the others have not been able to do.
So, when I reflect on the magic that is the Ramayana, I do so with an acute
and humble awareness of its majesty, marvel, and spiritual grandeur. There
are times when Rama and Sita become the foci of my meditation. But when I
reflect on their saga, I do so from the perspective of one who has
experienced it as poetry and as a rich source of India's ancient cultural
history. These aspects of our great epics are usually marginalized, ignored,
or unrecognized. Even scholars often tend to shy away from them.
<b>Jabali</b>
Ravana is physically strong but morally weak. There is another personage in
the epic who is rationally bright but misguided in ideals. He was a rishi,
an illustrious Brahmin too, descended from Kashyapa. He was a counselor to
Dasaratha. His name was Jabali.
When Rama embarked on his exile, Jabali was one of the many who tried to
dissuade him from the heroic sacrifice. He described Rama's decision as not
worthy of a wise man, arguing that we all must live just for our own self.
In truth, he said, none is a friend, and one can't gain something through
someone else. We are born alone in this world and we die alone. It is
mindless to be attached to father and mother. Just as we stay for a while at
a resting place when we are on a journey; our family is but a temporary
place of shelter. With such logic Jabali tried to influence Rama into
thinking that he ought not to follow that arduous path with potential for
pain and suffering. He belittled the role of the father as no more than
having been the passing guardian of the sperm from which one is born. Now
that Dasaratha was no more, Rama was undergoing all the hardship for
nothing.
Jabali went on to denigrate funerary rites (shraddha) by which food is
offered to the spirits of the departed. He called this a waste: how could
dead people eat? If one could feed those who are far away, one should be
able to feed one's traveling friends too. Jabali said that those who
instruct us to give religious gifts, perform sacrificial rites, and renounce
wealth were clever schemers who try to draw us to charity for their own
benefit.
Jabali also propounded the materialistic philosophy by which the tangible
world is everything, there is nothing beyond what tickles the senses. He
advised Rama to forget about promises and principles, and return to the
kingdom that was legitimately his.
Rama, the embodiment of virtue and righteousness, was appalled that one who
had served as his father's minister uttered such words. He rejected Jabali,
calling his ideas unwholesome, sinful, unclean and worse. He would follow
the righteous path, not only because that was the right thing to do, but
also because if he abandoned truth and returned, he would become a terrible
role model for the people. "Truth alone is the eternal royal path," he
declared, an ideal that is as valid today as whenever it was spoken. It is
in statements like this that the core wisdom of Indic seers may be found.
Rama went on to elaborate on righteous conduct to the confused Jabali,
reminding us of Krishna's preaching to Arjuna in the Gita; except that,
unlike Krishna (who spoke from his own divine wisdom), <b>Rama kept saying</b> what
Vedic rishis and other sages had told so, reminding us that the Rama of
Valmiki is noble, but still only human.
In this reply of Rama, as stated in Valmiki, there is an intriguing
statement: "It is well known that one who follows the Buddha should be
punished as one would punish a thief, and an unbeliever is equal to Buddha."
A reference to Buddha (600 B.C.E) by Rama who is said to have lived in
another yuga, raises serious questions about the date of Valmiki's
composition, not to say of Rama himself.
When the Ramayana was composed, there were unbelievers (n?ikas) in India,
as there have always been in any dynamic civilization. That a rishi would
make a cynical remark about the shraddha ceremony sounds incredible. Perhaps
the poet wanted to bring to our atention the fact that such views were
entertained even by some in the upper caste. The episode also says that
skeptics and unbelievers often lived in fear of the establishment, and
quickly disavowed their views if those in power were upset. Thus, upon
seeing Rama's reaction, Jabali retracted, saying, "Normally I don't champion
the ideas of unbelievers. I do it only if I think it would serve some
purpose." The purpose here was to bring Rama back to Ayodhya. Since that did
not work, Jabali said that he became a believer again. Indeed, Vasishtha
came to his colleague's defense, telling Rama that Jabali was only
pretending to be an unbeliever in his commendable effort to bring Rama back
home.
As in all great works, there are several conflicts in the Ramayana: The
initial conversation between Manthara and Kaikeyi was a conflict between
jealousy and generosity. The Kaiyeyi-Dasaratha conflict is between
self-centered heartlessness and paternal love. The Rama-Ravana conflict is
between nobility and depravity, between supreme good and supreme evil. And
the Jabali-Rama conflict is between materialistic atheism and enlightened
righteousness. All these reveal that human life is multi-faceted and wrought
with perennial conflicts. Through the poet's exaggeration we see the deeper
roots of superficial confrontations. If these situations had been presented
in a milder manner, we might not be able to see their full implications. By
painting them in all their gory monstrosity the poet helps us better
appreciate where meanness, jealousy, self-centeredness, lust, ignoring
righteousness, and the like can eventually lead us to.
Jabali's story shows that India was a complex civilization with many streams
of thought even in that distant age.
Dr. V. V. Raman
April 4, 2005