Not just pastime, it's knowledge!

Every living day is a new learning experience. Thanks to Hollywood and the various sci-fi movies they produced, Joe Public is cognisant of time travel, the concept of time, and the expansionary nature of the Universe. Still, we have a long way to go to be well-versed in these areas.

It is mind-boggling how some ancient Indian scriptures, which some quickly label as unbelievable mythological tales, carry some of the most fantastic astronomical knowledge with them. Forget about their authenticity; the wisdom embedded in them warrants a second look. Perhaps these tall tales are mere side dishes to the main course that they serve. Let us not be swayed by unbelievable events that defy logic. Let us have the know-how to differentiate the trees from the forest.

Two recent concepts that piqued my interest come from two stories mentioned in the Mahabharata, Srimad Bhagavatam and Vishnu Purana. They discuss time dilation and the cyclical nature of time.

Legend had it that King Kakudmi had a multi-talented daughter named Revathi. She was a prodigy and excelled in many areas, and the father thought no one was quite appropriate to marry her. Kakudmi made an interstellar trip to Sathyaloka, the abode of Lord Brahma, the creator of the Universe. After waiting for a musical performance to be over, he was given an audience.

Upon hearing Kakudmi's predicament, the Lord burst into laughter. Aeons had passed during Kakudmi's absence from Earth. His grandsons had died, and all of Revathy's suitors had passed on. By the time they returned to Earth, it would be another yuga* (epoch). Brahma had an idea coincidentally. Vishnu was performing one of his avatars as Krishna's brother, Balarama. She could marry him.

The story introduces the concept the movie Interstellar tries to convey. The youthful protagonist trapped in another realm can only see his loved one grow old and wither away.

I remember this from Einstein's theory of relativity; essentially, the faster you move, the slower time seems to go for you relative to someone at rest.

The next concept that turned my head was the story of Hanuman retrieving Lord Rama's ring in the netherworld.

It was time for Lord Rama to leave his mortal body. Unfortunately, as Hanuman was forever beside him, guarding him, Lord Yama could not take his life. Understanding this, Rama sent Hanuman on a mission. He dropped his ring into the crack of Earth and summoned Hanuman to look for it. Using his special powers, Hanuman made a dash for it only to meet the Serpent Queen, Vasuki, and a mountain of similar rings that Rama had dropped.

Vasuki explained the cyclical nature of time when life is lived repeatedly. The mountain of rings denotes the number of times Rama had thrown his ring for Haniman to retrieve. Perhaps, like the film ‘Sliding Doors', our lives follow different trajectories but ultimately lead to the same end. Unlike Western philosophers' understanding of time, from creation to the end of entropy, Hindu thinkers posit that everything repeats itself cyclically. Various yugas portray different human behaviours that ultimately lead to their self-destruction just to jump-start all over again.

All these so-called ‘myths’ need to be re-examined. They are not mere mumbo jumbos. There is much knowledge to scoop, told in poems and tall stories spiced up with the Gods' extracurricular activities to spur the interests of their listeners.

*Time is divided into four unequal parts (yuga) in multiples of 432,000 years. After a complete cycle, time repeats itself. 

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It is not a bed time story!

Sampoorna Ramayanam (Complete Ramayana, Tamil;1956)
(சம்பூர்ண ராமாயணம்)


The epic of Ramayana has fascinated people for ages. It has been narrated for generations via oral traditions, print media, stage performances and the silver screen. As early as 1922, a silent film on Ramayana came out in cinemas. Before this 1956 Tamil version, Hindi and Telegu versions of Ramayana can be found. Many other editions since then, and now, at the time of cable TV, Ramayana has permeated into households regularly.

There are many versions of Ramayana. Valmiki wrote the earliest one. Even Hanuman was concurrently writing his view on the occurrences of the day. With time, it evolved to Buddhist, Jain and South East Asian adaptations. 

Valmiki's Ramayana is said to be the authentic text of Rama's life, but it ends with his coronation at the throne after his banishment to the jungles for 14 years and capturing Sita from Ravana. Other additions of vilification of Ravana as the classical evil bad guy and exile of a pregnant Sita after overhearing the murmur of a washerman remains folklore at best.  Scholars who analysed these Sanskrit scripts agree that these were written in a slightly less refined language.

Sivaji Ganesan had already established himself as a reputable artiste by then, but due to his spirited way of acting, he was naturally not cast as Rama. Lord Rama, an avatar of Vishnu, the pillar of stoicism was played by the sombre, perhaps apathetic NT Rama Rao who later went on to have a very successful career in politics. Maybe, his casting in divine roles made the general public see him in a different light.

The first part of the film was very slow moving with most of the storytelling done through songs. This was the old way of economising time, to give value for money. The actor cast as Kaikeyi, the second wife of King Dasaratha, played a convincing role as a jealous mother worried about her position after her biological son is sidelined for the throne. She transforms well from a loving stepmother to Rama to a witch after being influenced by her foster mother.

Generally, people do not name their daughters Kaikeyi as she is perceived as the earliest villain of Ramayana. If not for her, demanding for her boons from the King, the whole hullabaloo of Rama going to the woods and the fight with Lanka would not have arisen. Lately, there is a reinterpretation of Kaikeyi's role in the whole saga. Her character was vital in Rama's development into a figure than himself. His dharma was plentiful in the jungle. There were many boons and work to be done there; not cooped in Ayuthia and rule a kingdom. For good things to happen, we need a jolt on the status quo. King Dasaratha is described as a smothering father who arrested Rama's development!

A cursory knowledge of Ramayana is mandatory to appreciate this movie.

As expected Sivaji who assumes the role of Barathan is at ease to display a melodramatic portrayal of a very loving brother of hearing that his thoughtful brother had been dethroned and banished. He rejuvenates the later part of the show with his presence.

Unlike the sermons in temples where Ravana is portrayed as a ten-headed fiery hot asura, in this movie, he is shown as a very decent human monarch. He is learned and is kind to all his family members, the royal court staff and his subjects. It is his sister, Shurpanakha, who fanned the fire of fury. It is his love of his sister that clouded his judgment. He went ahead to kidnap Sita. This was atypical of him; a scholar of many arts and sciences kidnapping somebody else's wife.

The film illustrates the turmoil that he goes through as he takes stock of his situation on the eve of his defeat. He regrets the destruction of his kingdom, the pain caused and the dilemma of whether to conceit defeat or to end his life in shame. To fight was sure failure but to commit suicide was cowardice. Bhagavathi plays the role of Ravana.

The song 'Indru Poi Naalai Vaarai' (Go today, Come tomorrow) is rendered in the film by C. S. Jayaraman. Here, Bhagavathi, playing Ravana, is in a dilemma. It was a day before the final kill. Ravana, having lost his army, meets eye-to-eye with Rama. Instead of giving the coup de grace, Rama tells him to go and return to fight the next day. This song has become an immortal melody. Composed in 'Thilang' raaga, an import from Sufi music, this song was successfully adapted by Guru Nanak and his disciples who composed several hymns. It was extremely popular with musical geniuses like Ravishankar, Bhimsen Joshi, violin maestro Lalgudi Jayaraman and musicologist G. S. Mani. The great Carnatic musician D. K. Pattammal recorded a song, ‘Shanthi Nilava Vendum,’ in this raaga on the occasion of the shocking death of Mahatma Gandhi in 1948.

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Decision, decisions

When I was young, either by ignorance or defiance, I tended to look down at the wisdom laid down by the Eastern sages but looked up at what, at that time appeared avant-garde, pop culture. With age, hopefully, wiser, I am exposed to the much wisdom that the Eastern philosophers had to offer. And I was just thinking of something I heard the other day.

Amongst the numerous moral dilemmas highlighted in the Mahabaratha, there is one which involved a priest. He was just sitting minding his business doing his priestly work. Along came a group of desperate men apparently running from something or someone. The desperate people were running from a band of thieves who were out to rob and probably kill them. They did not want the priest to tell them the direction of their route.

Sure enough, moments later, a group of menacing looking robbers appear.  The priest was put in a spot when asked about the whereabouts of the earlier men. His understanding of life is that one should be telling the truth, and nothing else would do. If he were to show them the right direction, which is the right thing to do, the innocents would be killed and robbed. If he were to deny any knowledge, the dacoits would surely beat the truth out of him. To lie and show them the opposite direction would be deceit, which was a no-no! Hence, the dilemma! He did what he thought was the best thing to do, to tell the truth. Apparently, the Gods were not happy when he died. He was sent to Hell.

Another moral conundrum evidenced in the Mahabaratha, as from many, is the process of assailing of Drona. The teacher who changed allegiance, after being humiliated by the Pandavas, had the knowledge of a secret weapon. The only way to defeat him was to catch him off-guard. Krishna, sometimes referred to as the inner conscious, suggested that the Pandavas tell a white lie. He was to be told that Ashwatthama, his son, was dead.

The truth of the matter is that Ashwatthama was not dead, it was all a facade. The question was that whether it was alright to lie. Krishna asserted that winning for an honourable reason was noble. When an enemy could not be defeated in the usual the straight-forward manner, victory by deceit is acceptable. For Yudhishtra, the eldest of the Gaurava's sons, who could tell no lie, could not proceed such a line of a devious plan. He was made to be convinced that indeed there was an elephant named Ashwartthama which was killed. Hence, technically he was not lying! For other brothers, Arjuna and Bheema, it did not really matter. They felt that they, of the warrior stock, just wanted to win.

The point here is that it is not easy to make the right decision that would satisfy all quarters. Nobody actually knows whether an act is a noble one at that juncture. Prevailing circumstances and the societal set of moralities determine its appropriateness. The wisdom of a particular action could be a judgement in retrospect. We are mere mortals, how are we to know?

N.B. These are just part of a tale of intertwiningly epic proportions. Every action in Mahabharata is justified in sometimes contradictory fashions. What is good for the Kings may not be appropriate for the peasant. Like Schopenhauer said, we glorify the past and the points that suit our agenda. Not everything in the past is bad, and not everyone in the past was noble.