LESSON I : THE EPICS: THE MAHABHARATA OF VYASA AND THE

RAMAYANA OF VALMIKI

I : Some preliminaries

We must begin by stating that, while we will be using the term ‘Hinduism’ repeatedly in
this block, this is so for reasons of convenience. In fact, in the period during which the
texts, beliefs and practices we will be discussing took shape, people whom we describe as
Hindus today did not identify themselves as such in opposition to those we call
Buddhists, Jainas, etc. Rather, groups of people tended to be referred to by terms
designating family, clan, caste or sub-caste, occupation or location. We also find names
for religious denominations in our sources – there are references to Buddhists, Jainas,
Vaishnavas, Shaivas, Pashupatas, Kapalikas, Kalamukhas and many others. In the times
in which we live, all except the first two of these are regarded as Hindus. However, in the
period under discussion, members of these groups (including those we now classify as
Hindu) often had grave religious and doctrinal disagreements with each other –
Vaishnavas had their differences with Shaivas, Shaivas had disputes with Buddhists or
Jainas and so on. The Vaishnava theologian Ramanuja, for instance, argued forcefully not
just against Buddhists and Jainas but also against some of those we would today label as
Hindus – Pashupatas or those who worshipped Shiva as Pashupati, the lord of animals,
for example.

The religious and doctrinal disagreements of the period under consideration cannot,
therefore, be seen as confrontations between Hindus as Hindus and non-Hindus –
Buddhists or Jainas or anyone else. For our period, it is not accurate to think in terms of a
uniform religious community easily identifiable as Hindu. So, even though we will be
using the term Hinduism, this should not be visualized as a homogeneous entity. Rather,
it should be seen as an agglomeration of the beliefs and practices of a variety of social
segments that were often not in agreement with each other.

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It must also be mentioned that, in this block, ours will be a rather top-heavy, upper-caste
perspective of Hinduism. We will focus, for the most part, on information gathered from
a corpus of Sanskrit texts and Sanskrit, it should be remembered, was largely the preserve
of the upper castes, and of brahmana men in particular. In other words, we will
concentrate on what has been called the ‘Great Tradition’, which is seen as pan-Indian,
prestigious, authorized by written texts produced and/or preserved by brahmanas. The
rich streams of folk and tribal Hinduism with their oral literature, rituals and forms of
worship – the ‘Little Traditions’ – will not be discussed in detail. Folk and tribal religions
are the subject of Block 8. In this block, only those aspects of these ‘Little Traditions’
shall be touched on that found their way, through a complex process, into the ‘Great
Tradition’. With these preliminaries in mind, let us briefly discuss the background of the
texts we are dealing with in Lesson I – the Epics.

II : Background and some key concepts

Religions like Buddhism, Christianity and Islam began with historical founders whose
teachings were codified in a single sacred text or a group of texts regarded as the Canon.
Hinduism did not have a historical founder whose teachings could be recorded, but the
corpus of Vedic texts is usually regarded as authoritative. This is held to be eternal and
uncreated, not composed by any human or divine agent. We are told that Brahma reveals
the Veda to the seven primeval rishis – seers who see the sacred word with their mind’s
eye – at the beginning of each cycle of creation. In fact, these rishis seem to HEAR,
rather than see, the Veda, and they pass this on intact – syllable for syllable, word for
word – to human beings; thus the Vedic corpus is regarded as shruti, ‘that which is
heard’. It is believed that since Vedic utterance ‘comes down’ untarnished, it must be
preserved in exactly the form in which it has been received to exert its power when
spoken and heard.

Scholars have, however, argued that the Vedic corpus in fact evolved over a long period,
between roughly 1500 and 600 B.C. and underwent significant transformations during
that time. (This should have been dealt with in an earlier block.) What is more, the

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central institution of the Vedic texts – the yajna or sacrifice – gradually came under
enormous criticism. In the Vedic corpus, we are told that the natural world, human
society and even the Vedas themselves emerged from the yajna. And it is important to
note that in Vedic literature, the pantheon, social order and everything else in the universe
is not thought to be guaranteed by the Vedic TEXTUAL CORPUS – the authoritative
Vedas of post-Vedic Hinduism – but instead is understood within the framework of the
institution of the sacrifice.

The Vedic texts conceive of the yajna as a feast involving slaughter, cooking and eating –
that of animals, for instance. The sacrifice, however, is perceived not just as destructive
but also as generative. We gather, for example, that the massive slaughter of the
Ashvamedha (horse sacrifice) yields good cattle, good horses, male children, wealth,
freedom from sin and sovereign power. And we are told that when the gods sacrificed
Purusha, the primeval man, the world as we know it – with its horses, humans, gods, sun
and moon, sky and earth, verses and chants, etc. – was created; its parts sprang forth from
Purusha’s dismembered body. It was believed that priests repeated the primeval yajna
every time they conducted a sacrifice, and that all cosmic processes would cease and
chaos would reign if yajnas were not held regularly. Brahmana priests claimed that they
alone could perform complicated sacrifices correctly and keep anarchy at bay, and they
came to be recognized as authorities on Vedic religion. One can also note that, as the
preservers and interpreters of the Vedic textual corpus and later works that claimed a
connection with Vedic literature, brahmanas continued to be regarded as religious
authorities in post-Vedic Hinduism.

The institution of the yajna came under attack by the sixth century B.C. The Buddhists,
for instance, denounced the sacrifice as violent and destructive. The Buddha emphasized
the misery of life and the need for, and possibility of, escape from it. He proclaimed the
Four Noble Truths and the Eightfold Path which explained the cause of this misery and
the means of transcending it without the performance of elaborate, expensive sacrifices
presided over by brahmanas. (This should have been dealt with in Block 2.) As the
Vedic yajna was increasingly deemed inappropriate and its critics found supporters from

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a range of social groups, even some politically powerful patrons, the brahmana
custodians of Vedic religion were put on the defensive. On the one hand, some of them
reiterated the importance of the sacrifice, and detailed rules regarding who within the
social system were and were not entitled to participate in the ritual use of the Vedas were
codified in texts like the Dharmasutras. Sutra is derived from the Sanskrit root siv, ‘to
sew’, and means ‘thread’. In our context, it denotes a thread of words that conveys
something concisely. And the Dharmasutras tell us various rules of dharma in a
condensed form. On the other hand, a somewhat different set of texts and institutions also
evolved. These were meant for everyone, for those who had access to the Vedas as well
as the vast majority of people who were not eligible to take part in the ritual use of the
Vedas. These too claimed a connection with the Vedas. How they did so will be discussed
a little later. The point to note here is that the word dharma is ubiquitous in this latter
category of texts too.

But what does the term dharma mean? This is a concept that seems impossible to
translate into English with a single word. It encompasses ideas of right and wrong, good
and bad, law (this-worldly and spiritual) as well as the ‘ought’. It comes from the
Sanskrit root dhri, which means ‘to support’. Dharma, therefore, is that which buttresses
something – a particular social order, for instance. So, the dharma of a brahmana is to
recite and teach the Veda because that is what brahmanas ought to do, rather than fight
wars or trade which are activities that other types of people should be engaged in. The
dharma of a king is to protect his subjects because that is what rulers must do to prevent
anarchy in their realms, and so on. Texts such as the Dharmasutras discuss dharma by
listing ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’ (e.g., shudras should serve the three higher varnas;
widows should not have honey, meat, liquor and salt). But dharma is different in
different circumstances. It is different not only for different people, but also for the same
person at different times and places. For instance, a text might tell us that brahmanas
should study the Veda and vaishyas should trade; but, in the same text, we may also be
told that in straitened circumstances a brahmana can engage in trade; however, he should
not trade in ALL the things that vaishyas do – he should not sell milk, for example; and if
he does, he will become a shudra in three days.

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Other texts, including the Mahabharata of Vyasa and the Ramayana of Valmiki which
we are focusing on in this lesson, are also concerned with dharma. But, in these, dharma
is not discussed by stringing together lists of ‘oughts’ and ‘ought nots’. Instead, here its
various aspects are explained through narrative and sometimes in didactic passages.
Dharma is the yardstick with which the actions of the chief characters of the Ramayana
and Mahabharata are judged – Rama upholds his dharma as a son by honouring his
father’s promise to his step-mother, he adheres to his dharma as a ruler in sending his
wife into exile when rumours of her infidelity threaten to tarnish the reputation of his
reign, Dhritarashtra often turns a blind eye to his dharma because of his love for his son
Duryodhana, and so on. Apart from the differences in how dharma is explained, both
sorts of texts we have drawn attention to in the last two paragraphs – the Dharmasutra
type of texts and the Mahabharata and Ramayana – as well as the Puranas, which we
shall discuss in subsequent lessons, are classified as smriti.

What does the term smriti denote? While shruti refers to the ‘hearing’ of the inviolable
word, smriti means ‘remembering’. Remembering is a personal experience – what you
remember about an event we both heard of is likely to be somewhat different from what I
remember. And because remembering is subjective, smriti is perceived as different from
shruti. Smriti is interpretative, selective, flexible; it is meant to buttress and elucidate
shruti which is considered sacrosanct and believed to have a pre-established form. But
one repeatedly encounters aspects of smriti that seem to have nothing to do with the
contents of the Vedic texts. The Puranas, for example, discuss the main characteristics of
various types of images to be worshipped at great length, and in this, amongst other
things, move away from sacrifice-based Vedic religion where images were not used. Yet
these are regarded as smriti. We are also often told that ‘the Veda is the root of dharma’,
but how this is so in specific contexts is sometimes far from clear. It seems that in many
instances the Vedic origins of what is said to be smriti, or aspects of it, are simply
declared, not shown. Of the texts that claim a connection with the Vedas, let us first look
in some detail at a few aspects of the Mahabharata attributed to Vyasa and the Valmiki
Ramayana. As we proceed, it will be clear that a number of features which we associate

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with the religion of the Puranas are anticipated in these two texts, especially in the
Mahabharata; that they can, therefore, be regarded as proto-Puranic; and that any work
on Puranic religion must include a discussion on the Mahabharata and Ramayana.

III: The Mahabharata and Ramayana as texts for a new age

We have already mentioned that Vedic sacrifice and its social context were being
challenged by the sixth century B.C. This has been seen as one reason behind the
composition of those smriti texts which were intended for all manner of people
irrespective of whether they were or were not allowed to participate in the ritual use of
the Vedas. In other words, it seems that Hinduism was changing because some of the
custodians of Vedic religion were making concessions to draw into their fold people who
might have shown an interest in and extended their support to their adversaries – to the
Buddhists, for instance. This argument has been put forward by scholars who have
analysed a range of sources available for the middle of the first millennium B.C. and
later, including Buddhist texts which critique Vedic religion. And this line of reasoning
has been used to explain not only the composition of the two proto-Puranic texts we are
focusing on in this lesson, but also that of the Puranas, as we shall see in Lesson II. We
must also ask whether texts from within the Hindu tradition such as the Mahabharata
present their own account of why they were composed. The answer is – they do.

The Mahabharata tells us that there are four ages – Krita, Treta, Dvapara and Kali.
Dharma, we are told, loses one foot in each successive age, so that in the Kali age
lawlessness is three-quarters rampant. Men rob and harm each other. No wife is obedient
to her husband. Kshatriyas, vaishyas and shudras flout their varnadharma. Brahmanas
do not offer sacrifices, they tend to be seduced by the arguments of nastikas – those who
say that ‘there is no such thing’ (na+asti) as the authority of the Vedas. When everything
in the world is turning upside down, men are puny and short-lived – their diminished life-
span and feeble intellect will not allow them to learn the pristine Veda. In view of the
imminent onset of the Kali age, Vyasa divided the one Veda into four to make it easier

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for mortals to learn and retain it. He also revealed to humanity a fifth Veda – the
Mahabharata. That work informs us that a brahmana who knows the four Vedas with
their ancillary texts and the Upanishads, but not the Mahabharata, has no learning at all.
It also tells us that when the divine rishis placed the four Vedas in one scale on a balance
and the Bharata on the other, in both weight and size the latter was the greater, and that it
is called the Mahabharata because of its size (mahat) and its weight (bhara). Further,
that while the four Vedas could only be heard by men of the three ‘twice-born’ varnas,
the Mahabharata is a text for everyone. We are told that all those who know it, who
make it known and who listen to it attain the realm of the gods and become their equals.
Even loathsome men who have committed the evil act of killing a child in the womb,
chandalas and women who hear it are cleansed of their sins.

The Mahabharata thus associates itself repeatedly with the Vedas (e.g., when it claims to
be the fifth Veda). It also presents itself as the most relevant text for a new age and for a
mass audience. (One can note that the Puranas are also collectively known as the fifth
Veda, that they too describe the nastinesses of the Kali age, and portray themselves as
texts that can purge even the lowest of the low of their vices in immoral times.) For
hundreds of years countless people from diverse sections of society have grown up
listening to the story of the Mahabharata, seeing it depicted in the visual arts, witnessing
performances that draw on it, reading it, reacting to it. The Mahabharata is often clubbed
with the Valmiki Ramayana, the story of which text has also captured the imagination of
millions over the centuries; and these two texts are referred to as the great epics of India.

IV: What does the word ‘epic’ mean? Why are the Mahabharata and Ramayana
regarded as epics?

Epics recount tales of great heroes who undergo a series of adventures that test their
virtue and valour. Their stories encompass features like disputed succession to an
ancestral realm, abducted or humiliated wives, journeys through dangerous uncharted

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lands and bloody wars – their heroes survive all this to emerge victorious. In the form in
which we have them, epics LOOK BACK at a heroic age long past and glorify values
like bravery, honour, fortitude and unswerving obedience to duty. Their heroes tend to
have a special relationship with the gods – an epic hero could have a divine parent, or he
could be a part or an incarnation of a god, for instance. So, epics bring together the
human and divine realms, often in the person of the hero.

As a genre, the epic is not only narrative and heroic, it also tends to be oral in origin.
That this was the case is suggested by characteristics such as the constant use of set
expressions. Groups of words like ‘the clinging vine’ or ‘the sturdy oak’ or ‘tiger among
men’ may be used repeatedly, and serve a function – they allow the tellers of the story to
fill out lines without effort and recount the tale fluently. Since epics have tended to be
transmitted orally, their stories have been told in a particular way. Each narrator has
recounted the tale in his/her own manner – dwelling, for instance, on a part that he/she
likes or considers important, elucidating right and wrong, and so on. In the process, epics
have changed and grown. It is believed that epics begin with a core text or a kernel that
describes historical happenings. Fresh material keeps on being introduced around this –
later events, new values and didactic matter are added on and, during the evolution of an
epic, the scale of the core incident is also hugely inflated. Since all manner of material is
added to them repeatedly over a long period of time, epics cannot be regarded as sources
for a narrowly defined ‘epic age’.

The Mahabharata and Ramayana display the features of epics. Their central stories, their
heroes’ trials and tribulations and relationships with the gods are too well known to need
to be discussed in detail here. The Mahabharata and Ramayana are narrative and heroic,
and it is believed that the political situation they reflect predates the period of their
composition, that they LOOK BACK at a past age. They are oral in origin and, to this
day, their tales are recounted orally by professional storytellers and family elders (though
very seldom in Sanskrit); and even today, each narrator tells their stories in his/her own
distinctive way – emphasizing parts that he/she enjoys, discussing morality, sometimes
adding comic relief. Scholars like V.S. Sukthankar and J.L. Brockington have also

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convincingly argued that the Mahabharata and Ramayana, like other epics, were
composed over a long period of time – their core was supplemented repeatedly for
hundreds of years. Let us now turn to the evolution of these two Epics.

V: The evolution of the Mahabharata and Ramayana

The central story of the Mahabharata is that of a conflict between two sets of cousins –
the Kauravas and Pandavas – who end up fighting a terrible war for succession to the
realm of their ancestors. The action is focused in the Ganga-Yamuna doab and adjoining
areas. Originally the Mahabharata may have dealt with a local feud but, as we have it
now, many many groups of people – many more than could have participated in a local
skirmish – are described as having participated in the war. The Mahabharata as we know
it is also no longer just the tale of the war, it has much more to it. It includes the
Bhagavadgita (‘Song of the Lord’), for instance. A moment of reflection on whether the
warriors should really fight was added just as the war is about to start.

In the Bhagavadgita, Krishna explains to Arjuna in some detail why he must fight.
Arjuna is also granted a vision of Krishna as God. Krishna reveals himself as all-
pervasive, as the seed of every creature without whom nothing can exist. He identifies
himself as war, devouring warriors who like moths fly into his flaming mouth, as Time
which causes death. He urges Arjuna to slay his adversaries. ‘I have already killed
them….Be merely my tool….Only he comes to me who acts for me, who holds me as the
highest’, Krishna tells Arjuna. Arjuna takes up his bow again. The war can begin, the
narrative can resume.

The point to note is that while the Bhagavadgita addresses a specific issue which is posed
by the story of the Mahabharata’s fratricidal war, it is quite different in tone and texture
from the narrative portions of that Epic. It provides a new context – that of Krishna as
God in whom the believer must seek shelter – in which the dilemma of a war that is both
dharmic and extremely destructive can be understood. And it is regarded as

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chronologically later than the narrative portions of the Mahabharata. The oldest works
that testify to the existence of a Bharata text belong to the period just after the middle of
the first millennium B.C., so the narrative portions of that Epic are believed to date from
about 400 B.C. In these, Krishna is treated more as a human hero than as God. (One can
note that the famous incident of Draupadi being disrobed is part of these narrative
sections. In popular versions of the Mahabharata, Draupadi invokes Krishna when the
villainous Duhshasana tries to strip her. It is by Krishna’s grace, that as one garment is
removed, another takes its place. However, in the version of the Mahabharata that most
scholars use – the Critical Edition – while Draupadi’s modesty is miraculously preserved,
she does not invoke Krishna. So, the argument that Krishna’s divinity is only evident in
the chronologically ‘late’ portions of the Mahabharata stands.) In the Bhagavadgita,
Krishna is clearly divine, and this part of the Mahabharata is variously dated between the
second century B.C. and the first century A.D. Further additions kept being made to that
Epic till about the fourth century A.D.

Of the eighteen books that make up the Mahabharata as we know it, Books XII and XIII
– the Shanti and Anushasana Parvas or ‘The Book of Peace’ and ‘The Book of
Instructions’ – are thought to belong to the last major phase of the evolution of that text,
and are dated to the first couple of centuries A.D. In them, as he lies dying on the
battlefield, the wise patriarch Bhishma expounds on aspects of dharma at great length.
He speaks of the dharma of the different varnas in varied circumstances, he
acknowledges the brahmana varna as the highest, he emphasizes that the dharma of the
ruler is to maintain varnadharma and protect the interests of brahmanas, and so on.
These portions of the Mahabharata appear to have drawn heavily on the Dharmasutra
sort of smriti literature. (One can note that material from texts of the Dharmasutra type
was also incorporated into the Puranas as they gradually assumed the form with which
we are familiar.) That sections with a distinct pro-brahmana bias are part of the
Mahabharata we know has made scholars argue that its contents, which originally
reflected kshatriya preoccupations, were brahmanized as the text evolved.

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Given that the Mahabharata took shape over many centuries, it could not possibly have
been the work of an individual named Vyasa. In fact, Vyasa is credited not just with the
composition of the Mahabharata but also that of the Puranas, as well as the arrangement
of the Veda into four parts. Since the texts attributed to Vyasa are considered by scholars
to be the products of many contributors over several hundred years, Vyasa’s authorship is
regarded as symbolic. One can also note that the noun vyasa is derived from the preverb
vi (‘apart’) and the root as (‘throw’). The word vyasa thus means ‘divider’. It has also
been translated as ‘arranger’ or ‘compiler’. Like the Mahabharata, the Ramayana too is
not seen by scholars to be the work of a single person, although it is attributed to
Valmiki.

The evolution of the Ramayana has been worked out in far more detail than that of the
Mahabharata, and J.L. Brockington’s contribution in this field has been invaluable.
Brockington established the relative chronology of different layers of the Ramayana
through a close linguistic analysis of that text. On the basis of his study of the language
and style of the epic, he investigated the socio-economic, political and religious milieux
which are revealed at different stages of its evolution. He has convincingly argued that
the Ramayana was, in the main, composed in three layers. The first – the orally
transmitted stage – belongs to the fifth-fourth centuries B.C. The second – which
constitutes around 35 per cent of the text – is associated with the period between the third
century B.C. and the first century A.D. The third – when the first and last books were
composed – dates to the period between the first and third centuries A.D.

Brockington’s third stage is when the brahmanization of the originally heroic epic
becomes very evident. There is now a much more pronounced emphasis than in the
earlier layers on the four-varna model, and correspondingly, on the ruler’s duty not just
to protect but also to actively punish breaches of this system. The third stage is also very
important from the point of view of religious history. This is the layer when it is made
clear that Rama is not just an exemplary human ruler but is divine. In the earlier stages,
Rama is regularly compared with Indra, the king of the gods, as is not unnatural for
extraordinary human heroes. But from the third stage, he is himself seen as divine and

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identified with Vishnu. In other words, even though the Ramayana has come to be
regarded as a religious text, it is, for the most part, free from a strongly devotional
attitude towards its hero. In fact, in the great bulk of the text of its central books, Rama is
himself unaware of his divinity – he has to be told about his origin in Vishnu by Brahma
in ‘late’ passages of the Ramayana. (One can note that, in this respect, Rama is different
from the Krishna of the Bhagavadgita who is fully aware of his godhood and reveals
himself as the supreme deity to Arjuna.) However, the seeds of a devotional faith centred
on Rama are sown in the Ramayana. He subsequently becomes a major focus of bhakti or
devotion – an aspect of Hinduism which is different from sacrifice-based Vedic religion.

VI: How the Ramayana and Mahabharata go beyond Vedic religion: Some examples

Vedic religion is deferred to in the Ramayana and Mahabharata. We have already noted
that the Mahabharata presents itself as a Veda – as the fifth Veda. It tells us that it is a
Veda for a new age and one that everybody, irrespective of his/her position in the social
hierarchy, could have access to. And Rama endorses Veda-based sacrifice by protecting
sages who practise it. He conducts a spectacular Ashvamedha, and is born as
Dasharatha’s son when that ruler performs the Ashvamedha and Putreshti (‘son-seeking’)
sacrifices. But the Ramayana also espouses something different from Vedic religion.
Very importantly, Rama takes over the religious concern of that epic in his person. At the
end of the first canto of the first book of that text, we are told that Rama’s story is holy
and purges one from sin, and that reading the Ramayana ensures a place in heaven, not
only for the reader, but for his sons, grandsons and dependants. Devotion to Rama and
reverence for his tale may be seen as an alternative to sacrifice-based Vedic religion.

In the Bhagavadgita, Krishna seems at times to be criticizing the custodians of Vedic

religion. This appears to be the case when he says: ‘The undiscerning who delight in the
letter of the Veda, who hold that there is nothing else, who are inspired by desire and are
intent on heaven, proclaim these flowery words that…[lay down] various rituals aimed at
the acquisition of pleasures and power’ (II.42-43). He declares that these flowery words

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can rob those addicted to pleasures and power of their minds. However, he seems to have
no problem with Vedic ritual pursued in the right spirit – when it is done disinterestedly,
selflessly. In fact, in a verse that is much quoted, he states: ‘To action alone have you a
right, never at all to its fruits; let not the fruits of action be your motive, neither let there
be any attachment to inaction’ (II.47).

Tradition often sees the culmination of Krishna’s teachings in the charamashloka or

‘ultimate verse’ of the Bhagavadgita. In this, Krishna asks Arjuna to abandon all
dharmas and seek shelter with him alone, for only he can set Arjuna free from every evil.
Krishna has already revealed himself as the supreme God who is the cause of, present in,
the destroyer and the goal of all created things. Surrender to this sort of deity is certainly
different from the performance of Vedic sacrifice. We can note that in this respect too the
Mahabharata anticipates an important feature of Puranic religion – bhakti. And for the
first time in the Hindu tradition, the Bhagavadgita mentions the doctrine of the avatara,
of incarnation or the periodic descent of the deity in embodied form to the world. Krishna
declares: ‘Whenever there is a decline of dharma and adharma flourishes, I create
myself, Arjuna. For the protection of the good, for the destruction of the wicked and for
the establishment of dharma, I take birth age after age’ (IV.7-8). Again, one can note the
departure from the performance of Vedic sacrifice, and also that the doctrine of the
avatara is developed further in the Puranas.

While the Bhagavadgita is undoubtedly a seminal text for Hindu devotional theology, its
Krishna – the statesman Krishna – seems not to have won the hearts of as many devotees
as a younger Krishna. We encounter this younger Krishna first in the Harivamsha (‘The
family of Hari’, i.e., Krishna). This is traditionally regarded as a supplement of the
Mahabharata, and is believed to date to the end of the time-span allotted to that epic. It
presents an account of Krishna’s life and death – his birth and escape from the clutches of
his evil maternal uncle Kamsa, his growing up amid cowherds on the banks of the
Yamuna, his dances and sport with young milkmaids, his slaying of Kamsa, the
establishment of the city of Dvaraka where he lived with his numerous wives, and much
else. These themes are developed in a later key text of devotional Hinduism – the

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Bhagavata Purana. Unlike the Krishna of the Bhagavadgita, the young Krishna appears
to show little concern for the protection of dharma and the destruction of adharma; he
does much that seems easy to fault – he indulges in innumerable love-affairs, for
instance. And there is more than just a little eroticism in the Bhagavata Purana. The
Purana itself tells us that Krishna used the erotic motif to win the devotion of the people
of the Kali age who are more drawn to things sensual than the people of earlier, less
tainted ages. However, we are always told to follow the teachings of the Bhagavadgita
and not imitate Krishna’s life, for he is exceptional. Everything he does is more than what
it seems.

VII: A final observation

We have classified both the Mahabharata and the Ramayana as epics, and noted that
they share the features of that genre. Both belong in their origins to the culture of the
kshatriya political elite. As they evolved, both were brahmanized and acquired a religious
significance. We have labelled both as proto-Puranic. And they are thought to have been
composed at roughly the same time, during the final centuries B.C. and early centuries
A.D. The Mahabharata and the Ramayana, however, are different from each other in
their general tenor.

The Mahabharata is characterized by constant questioning. The final war between the
cousins is viewed with persistent ambiguity, and the Pandavas have great difficulty in
deciding to fight at all. The greatest virtue of each of the heroes of the Mahabharata is
questioned during the war – Yudhishthira, renowned for his truthfulness, tells a lie;
Bhima, celebrated for his strength, wins in single combat only by hitting his enemy below
the belt; Arjuna, the unrivalled warrior, loses his nerve at the beginning of the war. The
Pandavas finally win, but they have been tainted, and their victory comes only after the
destruction of their kin. Dharmasukshmata – the subtle nature of dharma with all its
complexity – is the central theme of the Mahabharata. On the other hand, in the
Ramayana, Rama and his brothers are never set in conflict with each other. Nor are they
torn by inner conflicts. The Ramayana does not view the war between its main

14
protagonists with ambiguity, and Rama achieves a clear-cut victory which ushers in his
righteous rule. What is more, the war takes place very far from the land of Rama’s
ancestors – Lanka falls, but no one from Ayodhya dies for it. Ayodhya and Rama remain
unsullied.

So, we can end this lesson by noting that the Epics, despite their similarities, also reflect
very different visions of the heroic battles at their heart. In fact, traditionally the
Ramayana is regarded as a kavya – a poem about idealized characters, the Mahabharata
is not. Rather, the latter is classified as itihasa, literally, ‘thus (iti) indeed (ha) it was
(asa)’. And, despite all its mythology, it seems a profoundly realistic work to the modern
reader – a more real account of the past than we find in the Ramayana.

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LESSON II: THE MAKING OF PURANIC RELIGION

I: Some preliminaries

In this lesson, we shall discuss another category of smriti – the Puranas. Like the
Mahabharata and Ramayana, the Puranas claim a connection with the Vedas. Indeed,
just as the Mahabharata is regarded as the fifth Veda, so also are the Puranas
collectively. They too are said to be the Veda for a new age, and for both those who are
allowed access to the other Vedas as well as those who are not.

Do the four Vedas tell us anything about this fifth Veda? The Atharva Veda mentions
purana in a list of different sorts of wisdom. (One can note that purana is a singular
noun. And it must be seen as distinct from the many texts we know as the Puranas.) The
word purana can also be found in the Upanishads. It tends to occur with the term itihasa.
In Lesson I, we had mentioned that the Mahabharata is classified as itihasa, and
discussed what sort of composition it is. Thus, if purana is clubbed with itihasa, was it at
least a narrative text that was composed and transmitted orally like the latter, even if it
did not share all the features of the Mahabharata? And since itihasa and purana are
included with the four Vedas and the Upanishads in a list of different kinds of knowledge
in the Brihadaranyaka Upanishad, might the implication have been that they were
distinct from the texts that comprise the Vedic corpus? Did the purana reflect kshatriya
interests to begin with? And were its contents brahmanized at a later stage? The word
purana literally means ‘old’, and while we can conclude that, in Vedic literature, it
denotes an ancient oral narrative, we cannot be sure of its nature; we can only speculate
about that.

The Atharva Veda and Brihadaranyaka Upanishad tell us that the purana was of divine
origin. The Puranas that we are familiar with also claim that their chief narrator – usually
the bard Lomaharshana or his son Ugrashravas – gathered information, through Vyasa,
from the god Brahma. This has made people ask whether there was originally one ancient

16
narrative from which the Puranas that we know today were derived. The Puranas with
which we are familiar state their number to be eighteen. In fact, the number of well-
known Puranas is well over eighteen. But the generally accepted eighteen are – Agni,
Bhagavata, Bhavishya, Brahma, Brahmanda, Brahmavaivarta, Garuda, Kurma, Linga,
Markandeya, Matsya, Narada, Padma, Shiva or Vayu, Skanda, Vamana, Varaha and
Vishnu.

The Padma Purana associates each of these texts with one of three deities – Vishnu,
Brahma or Shiva. The Bhagavata, Garuda, Narada, Padma, Varaha and Vishnu are
linked with Vishnu; the Bhavishya, Brahma, Brahmanda, Brahmavaivarta, Markandeya
and Vamana with Brahma; and the Agni, Kurma, Linga, Matsya, Shiva and Skanda with
Shiva. The Padma Purana informs us that the Puranas of the first type lead those who
read them, or hear them being narrated, to salvation and those of the second sort secure
heaven for their devotees. The third type, we are told, lead to hell! The Padma Purana is
a Vaishnava text, or one in which Vishnu is the divine focus, and it regards the Puranas it
links with Brahma and Shiva as inferior to those it associates with Vishnu. In fact, it
would have us believe that Shaiva Puranas, or those which acknowledge Shiva as the
supreme deity, may do a great deal of damage – their devotees might end up suffering in
hell. And we can note that this is just one example of the spirit of sectarian one-
upmanship that has characterized Hinduism. However, we must also mention that even
while exalting a particular deity over others, the Puranas suggest the interdependence,
and ultimately the oneness, of all gods.

Revered Puranas other than the eighteen listed above -- the Devi, Devibhagavata, Kalika
and Vishnudharmottara, for instance -- are classified as upa or sub-Puranas. And there
are other texts, such as those on sacred topography and places of pilgrimage as well as
Buddhist and Jaina Puranas, which have become part of the Puranic tradition. We shall
focus on the information contained in the eighteen Puranas enumerated above, and also
draw on the Upa-Puranas. Fascinating though they are, other texts of the Puranic
tradition will not be discussed in detail here. One can, however, note that they sometimes
provide a different perspective on tales found in the texts we are focusing on. The

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Paumachariya of Vimalasuri – a Jaina Purana, or rather, prati or counter-Purana –
illustrates this point. This is a Jaina rendering of Rama’s story. In it, Ravana is a noble,
learned Jaina, not a flesh-eating demon. He does abduct Sita, but is not presented as an
insatiably lustful villain. He is instead a rather tragic figure – a great man undone by his
passion for a woman, a passion that he knows will bring about his downfall but which he
cannot resist. The Rama of the Paumachariya is also a Jaina. In fact, he is such an
evolved Jaina that he is reluctant to kill anything or anybody, even the man who has
abducted his wife. And it is Lakshmana, not Rama, who kills Ravana. The Paumachariya
is full of references to Jaina places of pilgrimage and Jaina legends. In short, even though
this text is regarded as part of the Puranic tradition, Vimalasuri’s rendering of Rama’s
tale is really rather different from the one attributed to Valmiki and from the versions of
Rama’s story that we find in the Hindu Puranas.

II: The contents of the Puranas

The Puranas tell us that as a genre they are meant to be characterized by the pancha-
lakshana (literally, ‘five defining marks’). In other words, they were supposed to deal
with five topics. These are: sarga, pratisarga, vamsha, manvantara and
vamshanucharita. Sarga means the creation of the world, and pratisarga its destruction
and re-formation. Vamsha denotes the genealogies of gods and sages, and
vamshanucharita the succession of ruling families. Manvantara signifies the periods of
the different Manus. We gather that the first Manu – Manu Svayambhu – was born of the
god Brahma. And from this Manu descended a series of Manus. One of them was the
wise king Prithu who ruled the earth so righteously that she was named Prithvi after him.
Another Manu whose reign is highlighted is the tenth Manu. A great flood occurred when
this Manu was ruling. Everything was submerged, but the tenth Manu, his family and
seven sages survived. We are told that the human race sprang from Manu, and manava
(literally, ‘descended from Manu’) is a common word for ‘human’. The two main lines of
royal descent – the Suryavamsha (Solar dynasty) and Chandravamsha (Lunar dynasty) –
are also regarded as Manu’s descendants. And Rama and Krishna – the two heroes who

18
were elevated to the status of gods in the course of the evolution of the Epics – are said to
belong to the Suryavamsha and Chandravamsha respectively. (We can note that, on the
whole, the manvantara scheme does not seem to fit easily with that of the four ages
discussed earlier. However, sometimes we are told that each manvantara contains
seventy-one aeons, and each aeon is divided into the four ages called Krita, Treta,
Dvapara and Kali. )

Although a Purana may discuss the five topics that every Purana is supposed to deal
with, the present Puranas by and large contain an enormous range of material that is
unrelated or, at best, very tenuously related to the pancha-lakshana. A Purana may
summarize the Mahabharata and Ramayana; describe numerous ways of worshipping
various gods and goddesses; list the characteristics of the images of a range of deities;
advise on how cities should be established; tell us why certain rivers are sacred and why
certain cities are not; discuss the diseases to which humans and other creatures are prone
and suggest cures for them; delineate the nature of different sorts of women and the
characteristics of different types of snakes or sins or eatables; speak of how to pacify
unfavourable planets or cast a spell on one’s enemy; discuss the art of warfare, dancing,
grammar, poetics, music, different facets of dharma and a lot else. It would be evident
that there are a number of topics in this list, and many many more in the Puranas with
which we are familiar, that the Vedas are not concerned with and which are also not easy
to slot into the five heads of sarga, pratisarga, vamsha, manvantara and
vamshanucharita. Since the Puranas seldom conform to the pancha-lakshana criterion, it
has been suggested by some that they are heavily REVISED versions of an original
purana. Others, however, hold that the Puranas, as we know them, are likely to have
been COMPOSED from about the fourth-fifth centuries A.D. It is argued that since we
know next to nothing about any older purana, we cannot rule out the possibility that the
extant Puranas share their name, and little else, with a category of literature that predated
their composition.

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III: The evolution of the Puranas

That the word purana occurs in Vedic literature has already been mentioned. That a set of
texts known as the Puranas ACTUALLY EXISTED before the beginning of the
Christian era is indicated by references to them in the Dharmasutras of Gautama (600-
400 B.C.) and Apastamba (450-300 B.C.) and in the Mahabharata. But the Puranas, as
we know them, contain a great deal that post-dates the period of these three texts. In other
words, the contents of the Puranas were not fixed in the last few centuries B.C. or the
early centuries A.D. In fact, most scholars now hold the view that the composition of the
extant texts of the Puranic corpus began in about the fourth-fifth centuries A.D., and that
these were repeatedly revised for a very long period of time. That alterations were made
for several centuries is evident from the fact that the Bhavishya Purana, for instance,
contains references to Taimur Lang, Nadir Shah and Akbar. By and large, major changes
were made in three different ways – by adding new chapters, by substituting old portions
with fresh ones, and by putting together new works with old titles. However, the
additions or substitutes or new works were not always freshly composed specifically for
the Purana into which they were inserted – very often, they were chapters and sets of
verses transferred from one Purana to another or from another type of smriti text to a
Purana. Because deletions and additions were made regularly in this way, the Puranas
have units that date to different ages. R.C. Hazra has worked out in some detail the
periods to which different sections of the Puranas belong, and his Studies in the Puranic
Records on Hindu Rites and Customs, originally published in 1940, is still regarded as the
standard reference work on the subject.

But why were the Puranas revised constantly? These texts themselves tell us that
changing times necessitated periodic revision. We know from other sources too that times
were changing. And that is invariably reflected in literature and in people’s practices.
R.C. Hazra has argued that there were two main stages in the development of the rites
and customs described in the Puranas. The first phase dates to the period from about the
sixth century B.C., or even earlier, to the end of the second century A.D.; and the second
phase to that between the third and the sixth centuries A.D. In going through the next few

20
paragraphs which draw heavily on Hazra’s work, you will, no doubt, notice that some of
the same points were made in Lesson I. The reason for the overlap is that Hazra’s first
stage roughly coincides with the period during which the Mahabharata and Ramayana
gradually acquired the form with which we are familiar. The discussion of the centuries
during which the Epics were composed in this lesson includes points that were not
mentioned in Lesson I. That is because Hazra deals with them in some detail in his study
of the growth of the Puranic corpus, and they have not been written about in quite as
systematic a way in the work on the evolution of the Epics.

Hazra suggests that criticism of Vedic sacrifice and its social context predated the
Buddha, but protest was institutionalized and gained strength with the rise and popularity
of Buddhism and Jainism. He also writes that early Vaishnavism and Shaivism too appear
to have been rather different from Vedic religion. The Shaivas, for instance, sometimes
wandered around completely naked, lived in cemeteries, smeared their bodies with ashes,
shouted and screamed in public, made lewd gestures, ignored varna rules, permitted
women and shudras to worship their god, and did much else that the custodians of Vedic
religion would have found unacceptable. And Shaivas have been classified, along with
nastikas and shudras, as duracharah – depraved people who could corrupt others and
threaten Vedic orthodoxy – in a number of smriti texts.

Hazra goes on to say that Vedic religion also suffered at the hands of rulers like the
Mauryas who patronized heterodox faiths. A great deal has been written about the
Maurya king Ashoka’s support of Buddhism. He was not the only ruler who showed an
interest in doctrines that the custodians of Vedic religion would have regarded with
suspicion, or found downright unacceptable. The Puranas describe these kings as
shudras and the age in which they ruled as the Kali age – the age when adharma is three-
quarters rampant; when even brahmanas, let alone the less spiritually attained, tend to get
seduced by the arguments of nastikas; when men of the lowest varna manage to reduce
their erstwhile masters to servitude. According to Hazra, the ‘advent of casteless
foreigners such as the Greeks, Sakas, Pahlavas, Kushans, Abhiras and others’ who
became politically powerful got Vedic religion into further trouble: not only did their

21
unorthodox religious customs influence the people amidst whom they settled; they, like
the rulers whom the Puranas have branded shudras, sometimes extended their support to
faiths like Buddhism. For instance, the Buddhists claimed the Kushana ruler Kanishka as
a patron. A Buddhist Council was held to discuss matters of theology and doctrine during
his reign, missionary activity was accelerated and Buddhist missions were sent to Central
Asia and China.

In short, Vedic sacrifice and all that it stood for were seriously undermined. The
custodians of Vedic religion felt the need to emphasize the importance of the sacrifice, or
at least to establish the authority of the Vedic texts which discussed the institution of the
yajna, and to reassert the significance of varnadharma as the only valid principle of
social organization. This was attempted by two sets of brahmanas in two different ways.
One set – the more orthodox – reiterated the importance of the sacrifice. They espoused a
range of grihya (household) rites in smriti texts known as the Grihyasutras. And a
number of the grihya rituals, such as the wedding, were given the character of a sacrifice
with the fire as their focus. In describing various rites, the Grihyasutras also tell us how
much access different members of the household had to the sacred. Other smriti texts
codified detailed rules regarding who were and were not entitled to participate in the
ritual use of the Vedas beyond the small world of the household, and also much else.
Hazra argues that the other set of brahmanas – the more numerous smarta Vaishnavas
and smarta Shaivas – dealt with the situation somewhat differently.

The word smarta means ‘based on smriti’ and, in our context, denotes brahmanas well-
versed in smriti. And, as must be evident by now, a Vaishnava is a person for whom
Vishnu is the supreme god, as Shiva is for a Shaiva. Drawing on Hazra, we mentioned
that Vaishnavas and Shaivas were initially associated with un-Vedic practices and treated
with enormous suspicion by many smriti writers. So, what sort of people does Hazra have
in mind when he speaks of smarta Vaishnavas and smarta Shaivas? He clarifies that not
all Vaishnavas and Shaivas indulged in unorthodox practices, and that ‘among the early
worshippers of these two deities there was one section of people who, though won over to
the worship of these two deities, looked upon the Vedas as authorities, attached great

22
importance to the Varna…dharma and the Smrti rules, and did not give them up.’ Hazra
calls them smarta Vaishnavas and smarta Shaivas. The Mahabharata was transformed
into a Vaishnava text by smarta Vaishnavas, and many of the Puranas came to be
regarded as seminal works of Shaiva or Vaishnava devotionalism. Hazra argues that
smarta Vaishnavas and Shaivas introduced smriti materials into these texts, so that they
came to espouse brahmanical precepts. Even so, the appeal of these works cut across
caste and gender boundaries, for it was believed that reading them, or listening to them
being narrated, or devotion to their principal deity could cleanse anyone of their sins and
lead them to salvation. It did not matter whether a person was entitled to participate in the
ritual use of the Vedas or not; everyone, from a learned brahmana to an unlettered
outcaste, was allowed access to the Mahabharata and the Puranas. And Hazra concludes
that the role played by smarta Vaishnavas and Shaivas was crucial in the evolution of the
Puranic corpus and the development of Puranic Hinduism – a form of Hinduism which
included rather than excluded. (One must remember, however, that inclusion involved the
acceptance, or at least a show of acceptance, of the authority of the Vedas and all that
they were believed to stand for – varnadharma, for instance.)

Things seem to have really started looking up for smarta Vaishnavas and Shaivas during
the period of Gupta rule (fourth to sixth centuries A.D.). This was a crucial era in the
codification and spread of Puranic Hinduism, and the Guptas appear to have been its
sponsors. Gupta kings took the names of the gods of the Puranic pantheon, so we find
rulers named after Rama and Shiva’s son Skanda or Kumara, for instance. Gupta
monarchs called themselves bhagavatas (devotees of god) and put the figures of
Lakshmi, Vishnu’s consort, and Varaha, one of his incarnations, on their coins. Icons of
Puranic deities were sculpted and temples built to house them. The Gupta period is
regarded as the great classical age of Sanskrit literature – an age in which literary works
of an exemplary standard were composed. The name that immediately comes to mind
when one thinks of outstanding writers of Sanskrit is that of Kalidasa. He lived in the
Gupta period and wrote, among other things, the Kumarasambhavam and
Raghuvamsham – two celebrated mahakavyas (literally, ‘great poems’) about the birth of

23
Shiva’s son and Rama’s dynasty respectively. And the early Puranas – the Markandeya,
Matsya, Vayu and Vishnu – were given their present form in the Gupta age. Of course,
changes were made to them later, and the corpus of Puranic texts kept growing for many
many more centuries.

Hazra goes on to say that by the fifth century A.D., Vaishnavism and Shaivism had come
under the influence of practices which we associate with Tantrism. (One can note that the
terms Tantrism and Tantric are derived from ‘tantra’. The Tantras came to designate a
corpus of texts. These works date from the middle of the first millennium A.D. But
customs that are branded as Tantric antedate the period of their composition – the texts
known as the Tantras codified pre-existing practices.) The word ‘tantra’ is often
translated as ‘a loom’. And in Tantrism, the divine is visualized as formed of the union of
the male and female principles, as a woven fabric is constituted by the warp and woof –
two sorts of threads that we can see uniting to form the cloth on the loom. Tantric
customs may thus be regarded as instruments for comprehending the components of the
divine, for understanding and attaining it. The etymology of the term provides another
clue about what Tantrism involves. Tantra is sometimes derived from tanu, ‘body’. The
human body is seen as the medium through which all that is desired may be attained.
Belief in homology, or visualizing a correspondence between an aspect of the individual
(the microcosm) and a feature of the external world (the macrocosm), is an important part
of Tantrism. It is thought that after mentally ‘installing’ the features of the divine at
various places in and around his/her person and progressively identifying with the divine,
the adept can gain control over the path to liberation, or over other people, or aspects of
nature. This is possible because there are homologies between the microcosm (the human
body) and the macrocosm (the world beyond) in so far as both have emanated from one
source – the divine. By realizing a homology the adept gains control over its underlying
power. And Tantrism involves a set of techniques in which the body is used for
worshipping the divine and acquiring powers by tapping certain homologies.

Hazra writes that the customs which we associate with Tantrism are ‘purely of non-
Vedic origin’. They neither presuppose the infallibility of the Vedas nor the social

24
superiority of its brahmana custodians. And women and shudras could be initiated into
these practices. Even in the watered-down form in which we know it today, Tantrism
enjoins what orthodox Hinduism taboos -- the five Ms ( matsya or fish, mamsa or meat,
mada or liquor, mudra or hand gestures and maithuna or copulation), albeit under ritually
controlled and not unbridled orgiastic conditions. Hazra argues that the spread of customs
that are branded Tantric so undermined brahmanical orthodoxy that the authors of the
Puranas had to do more than adding those topics that came within the scope of the early
smriti texts. It became necessary to introduce chapters on such popular religious practices
as puja (popular worship), homa (sacrifice) and pratishtha (consecration of images).

While incorporating sections on popular religious customs in the Puranas and thereby
making those a legitimate part of Puranic Hinduism, the authors of the Puranas
attempted, at the same time, to add Vedic elements to these practices and to purge them
of features that we associate with Tantrism. Some Puranas categorically state that
scriptures influenced by what we brand Tantric characteristics are shruti-smriti-viruddha
or incompatible with shruti and smriti, and that they can lead people astray. Those who
revere such texts, we are told, should be expelled from the kingdom by righteous rulers.
But the battle against the influence of Tantrism was a losing one, and Tantric elements
are very noticeable in those parts of the Puranic corpus that date from the ninth century.
New material continued to be added to the Puranas, and while things Vedic became
increasingly rare over time, Tantric features became more pronounced. This, and much
else, will be discussed in the section on Tantrism in Lesson IV.

IV: The Puranic process

It would be clear from Section III that the Puranic corpus as we know it evolved over a
period of several hundred years. That the thrust of Puranic religion was in its
accommodating processes would also be evident from the discussion above. Another
example – that of Vishnu’s avataras – will make the latter point even clearer. The word
avatara is commonly translated as ‘incarnation’. It is derived from ava-tri, meaning ‘to

25
come down’, ‘to descend’. The deity descends from the transcendental to the mundane
world. The reason for this is stated in the Bhagavadgita. One may recall that in the
Bhagavadgita Krishna says that he incarnates himself age after age ‘[f]or the protection
of the good, for the destruction of the wicked and for the establishment of dharma’
(IV.8). Here Krishna appears as the god who descends. Elsewhere, he is one individual
that Vishnu descends as. Vishnu is believed to have ten incarnations. They are: matsya
(the fish), kurma (the tortoise), varaha (the boar), Narasimha (the man-lion), Vamana
(the dwarf), Parashu Rama (Rama with the axe), Rama Dasharathi (Rama of the
Ramayana), Krishna, the Buddha and Kalki (who will come on a white horse, bring the
wickedness of the world to an end and establish a new era).

Vaishnavas regard Vishnu’s non-human and human incarnations as symbolic of their

chosen god’s presence in and power to manifest himself through all forms of life. The
development of the doctrine of Vishnu’s avataras may also be seen as a process of
assimilating deities from a range of traditions. Some avataras appear to have Vedic roots,
others do not. For instance, the incarnation as the dwarf seems to have developed from a
feat attributed to Vishnu in the Rigveda of travelling through the universe -- he strides
through the earth and sky and the regions beyond human knowledge in three steps. This
suggests his might and omnipresence. In the Puranas, the three strides are linked with the
role that all avataras are meant to perform – establishing dharma at a time when
adharma is gaining ground. Vishnu incarnates himself as Vamana to save the world and
the gods from the tyrant Bali. In a dwarf’s guise, he asks Bali for as much land as he can
cover in three steps, transforms himself into a giant, and wins back the whole universe for
the righteous. By contrast, the Buddha avatara obviously does not appear in the Vedas.
His incorporation into the list of incarnations suggests an attempt by Vaishnava
theologians to absorb heterodox elements. It illustrates the inclusive nature of Puranic
Hinduism with its propensity for dealing with the unorthodox and the heterodox by
gradual assimilation.

The process of assimilation could not always have been easy. For instance, the absorption
of the Buddha as an avatara is likely to have been troublesome. We know that things

26
Vedic are constantly deferred to in the Puranas, and that the Buddha had been an
articulate critic of Vedic sacrifice and its social context. So, he could not have been co-
opted into the Puranic pantheon without some unease. There seem to have been two
stages in his absorption into the list of Vishnu’s incarnations. To begin with, his role is to
lead adherents of Vedic religion astray. We are told that during the battle between gods
and demons, the gods were defeated and sought refuge with Vishnu. To help them,
Vishnu incarnated himself as the Buddha. In this form, Vishnu persuaded the demons to
abandon Vedic rites and become Buddhists instead. Giving up Vedic religion enfeebled
the demons, and they could be defeated by the gods. Here, the gods win thanks to the
Buddha, but the point to note is that that deity is not without ambiguity – he creates
heretics. We encounter a more obviously positive Buddha avatara in the later additions to
the Puranic corpus. The Devibhagavata Purana, for instance, offers homage to Vishnu
‘who became incarnate as the Buddha in order to stop the slaughter of animals and to
destroy the sacrifices of the wicked’ (X.5.13).

The complexity of the religious process under discussion comes through even more
clearly in the scholarly work on the appropriation of local cults – those ‘Little Traditions’
which are usually thought to be oral, carried by the non-literate and confined to small
areas, and which we referred to fleetingly at the beginning of Lesson I. The literature on
the subject makes us aware that our perspective must not be limited to that of the
absorption of ‘Little Traditions’ into the ‘Great Tradition’. It makes us aware that a
‘Little Tradition’ may have an enormous influence on the tradition of a considerably
larger area than that with which it was associated originally, if not on the pan-Indian
‘Great Tradition’. The work on the cult of Jagannatha (literally, ‘Lord of the World’) may
be used to illustrate this point. We can begin with some evidence from the famous
Jagannatha temple at Puri in Orissa which has attracted pilgrims from many parts of India
for several centuries. Even in the times in which we live, it is not difficult to trace
Jagannatha’s origins to a ‘Little Tradition’.

Jagannatha is said to be identical with Krishna. But in his temple at Puri, Jagannatha is
not represented anthropomorphically, or in human form, as Krishna usually is. Instead,

27
we find a roughly carved wooden statue lacking limbs. This suggests the deity’s tribal
roots, for tribal shrines tend to contain symbols like wooden posts or stones – they
generally do not house anthropomorphic images of gods. That Jagannatha’s origins may
be traced to a ‘Little Tradition’ is also evident from the important position occupied by
the non-brahmana Daita priests in temple ritual. These priests are believed to be
descendants of the original tribal worshippers of the deity. To this day, they are entrusted
with services which involve intimate contact with the image of Jagannatha – adorning
and moving it, for instance.

Given the comparatively large number of Shaiva temples in Orissa until the twelfth
century A.D., it seems reasonable to describe that region as predominantly Shaiva. Then,
in A.D. 1135, with the start of the construction of the temple of Jagannatha at Puri under
the patronage of a monarch of the Coda-Ganga dynasty, the worship of that local deity
was raised to the status of an imperial cult. In A.D. 1230, another Coda-Ganga ruler
dedicated his realm to Jagannatha, describing himself as that god’s deputy and son. In
other words, not only did Jagannatha’s image come to be housed in a grand temple
sponsored by a king, rather than in a simple tribal shrine, but he was now projected as the
overlord of an area which was considerably larger than that with which he was originally
associated. These developments have been seen as part of the process of the consolidation
of the Coda-Gangas’ power. That process must, in turn, be viewed in the context of the
pan-Indian trends of early medieval times (roughly dated to the period between the fourth
and twelfth centuries A.D.).

Scholars like B.D. Chattopadhyaya have argued that the early medieval period was
characterized by a noticeable increase in local state formation, and that some local states
grew, over time, into major regional powers. Both sorts of developments often involved
the extension of the state into pre-state tribal areas, and the interaction between tribal and
state societies was an important feature of early medieval times. The relationship between
tribal and state societies was characterized not by the sustained displacement of the
former by the latter, but by a process of partial integration. This involved the gradual
absorption of tribal groups into the caste system, their integration into court militia and

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the acceptance and patronage of their gods by kings. An oft cited instance of the royal
patronage of a deity of a ‘Little Tradition’ is that of Jagannatha. This example certainly
reflects the complex religious process (as also the political and societal processes)
underway in most parts of India during, and even after, the early medieval period. This
process of religious synthesis – the Puranic process – it must be remembered, continued
well after the composition of the eighteen Puranas enumerated in Section I of this lesson.

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LESSON III: FORMS & FEATURES OF PURANIC RELIGION

[PART A]: FORMS OF PURANIC RELIGION – I ) VAISHNAVISM

II ) SHAIVISM
III ) SHAKTISM

I: Vaishnavism

It would be evident from Sections III and IV of Lesson II that Vaishnavism cannot be
visualized as a homogeneous, unchanging entity. We have discussed Vishnu’s avataras
briefly. They begin to appear during the later phases of the composition of the Epics. The
number of incarnations varies: it seems to have started from a nucleus of four
(Mahabharata, XII.337.36), but in later texts as many as twenty-nine have been
mentioned. However, by the second half of the first millennium A.D., the standard
number was accepted as ten, and we listed the commonly recognized ten in Lesson II.
The growth of the Vaishnava pantheon through the development of the doctrine of
Vishnu’s avataras may be understood as a process of assimilating deities from a number
of traditions. It would be clear from Section IV of Lesson II that the process of religious
synthesis continued well after the fifth-sixth centuries. We will, however, now turn to an
earlier period of the history of Vaishnavism, when three cults centred on Vishnu,
Narayana and Krishna-Vasudeva evolved and merged. The merging began with the
fusing of Narayana with Vishnu, and subsequently, those two came to be identified with
Krishna-Vasudeva. The completion of this process is variously dated between the second
century B.C. and the early centuries A.D.

Of the three deities – Vishnu, Narayana and Krishna-Vasudeva, let us begin with Vishnu.
He appears in the Vedic corpus as a solar god who sends blessings from heaven in the
form of life-giving energy. His benevolent personality is remarkably consonant with that
revealed in later mythology, where he has a much more prominent role than in the Vedic
texts. You will recall that the Vedic Vishnu traverses the earth, the sky and the regions
beyond human knowledge in three steps. His striding through the universe suggests

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Vishnu’s all-pervasiveness and power. However, it seems that the predominance of the
Vishnu element in Vaishnavism is a late development, one that dates to the fourth-fifth
centuries A.D. This is suggested, for instance, by the fact that the Mahabharata generally
speaks of the supreme deity as Narayana and very rarely as Vishnu. Thus, it is held that
the former, rather than the latter, was the pre-eminent figure to begin with.

It has been argued that Narayana was a non-Vedic divinity. He is first mentioned in the
Shatapatha Brahmana, and appears to have been considered extremely powerful at the
time of the composition of that text. Indeed, the Shatapatha Brahmana tells us that he
gained supremacy over all beings by performing the Pancharatra Sattra or five-day
sacrifice. Suvira Jaiswal draws our attention to the fact that the Shatapatha Brahmana
identifies the Pancharatra Sattra with the Purushamedha, a sacrifice which involved the
ritual killing of purusha (man). As the slaughter of the Ashvamedha was perceived as
generative, so too was the human sacrifice of the Purushamedha/ Pancharatra Sattra.

Pancharatra, as a name of the worshippers of Narayana, occurs for the first time in the
Narayaniya – a chronologically ‘late’ section of the Mahabharata. That section also
describes Narayana as Pancharatrika. The epithet can be understood as meaning the
performer of the Pancharatra Sattra mentioned in the Shatapatha Brahmana. It indicates
the source from which the designation of his devotees may be derived. The ritual killing
of man seems to have been abandoned by the period of the composition of the ‘late’
portions of the Mahabharata, but the name Pancharatra continued to denote many of
Narayana’s followers. The Mahabharata classifies the Pancharatra system as distinct
from the Vedic. Its adherents are clubbed with Buddhists, Digambaras and Pashupatas,
and branded anti-Vedic in texts such as the Kurma Purana.

The Kurma Purana post-dates the merging of the gods Vishnu, Narayana and Krishna-
Vasudeva, and its denunciation of the Pancharatras suggests that the process of religious
synthesis did not wipe out all the older beliefs and practices associated with the non-
Vedic Narayana. Importantly, Pancharatra texts tell us that everyone who comes for
initiation into the Pancharatra fold, even a low-caste woman or child, should be initiated

31
without distinction of descent or class. In this context, we can note that Jaiswal draws our
attention to the fact that the Shatapatha Brahmana describes the Pancharatra sacrifice as
a sattra, i.e., a communal sacrifice, one in which the performers themselves act as priests,
and where no ritual specialists are necessary. The inclusive character of the Pancharatra
fold may be contrasted with the practices of more conservative Vaishnavas – the
Vaikhanasas, for instance. The Vaikhanasas are distinguished from the Pancharatras in
particular by their forging links with, and their maintenance of, Vedic traditions.
Sacrifice-based Vedic religion did not involve temple worship. Even so, the Vaikhanasas
claim that their temple worship is a continuation of the yajna, declaring that veneration of
Vishnu housed in a shrine brings the same results as sacrifices into the fire. Vedic
technical terms and names of ritual objects occur in texts dealing with the conduct of
worship. To this day, the dominance of brahmana officiants and the exclusive use of
Sanskrit as the ritual language are prominent features of the Venkateshvara temples at
Tirupati and Kanchipuram with which the Vaikhanasa Vaishnavas are associated.

To get back to Narayana, Jaiswal writes that he was ‘the original bhagavat’. The word
bhagavat is derived from the root bhaj, meaning ‘to divide’, ‘to share with’, ‘to obtain as
one’s share’. Bhagavat is ‘one who possesses and shares bhaga [literally, portion or
wealth or good fortune]’; and Bhagavata (pronounced Bhaagavata) may be understood as
one who has a share in bhagavat’s bhaga. Jaiswal argues that the term bhagavat
originally applied both to men and to gods. It denoted the holder and dispenser of
communal tribal wealth. Bhagavat Narayana, thus, represented the entire tribal
settlement. And, to begin with, Bhagavata meant the individual member of the
community who, by virtue of belonging to the tribe, was a shareholder in the bhaga held
by bhagavat.

Jaiswal goes on to say that as a varna-based social organization gradually replaced the
much more egalitarian tribal set-up, the meaning of the words bhagavat and Bhagavata
changed. Bhagavat Narayana came to denote ‘a transcendental supramundane god’, and
Bhagavata no longer meant a sharer in communal wealth. A Bhagavata’s relationship
with bhagavat Narayana was now clearly one of subordination, indeed, of devotion.

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Further, Jaiswal argues that the tension between the old and the new created a division
among Narayana’s worshippers – in the early centuries A.D., the Pancharatra and
Bhagavata emerged as distinct sects. The Pancharatra disregarded varna distinctions and
followed old non-Vedic practices. On the other hand, Bhagavatism, which accepted
varna divisions and much of what those stood for, was absorbed into the brahmanical
tradition through the identification of the non-Vedic Narayana with the Vedic Vishnu.

Let us now turn to Krishna-Vasudeva. Megasthenes mentions that the Sourasenoi of the
Mathura area held Herakles in special honour. Herakles has been identified as Krishna,
and the Sourasenoi as the tribe of the Satvata-Vrishnis. Thus, we can conclude that
Megasthenes’s statement suggests the prevalence of the veneration of Krishna in the
fourth century B.C. in the Mathura region. In the Mahabharata, Krishna appears as a
chief of the Vrishni clan. He sides with the Pandavas and acts as their counsellor in the
war against the Kauravas. His advice is not just shrewd, it sometimes seems
unscrupulous. However, the Bhagavadgita, a ‘late’ portion of the Epic, offers a
justification for Krishna’s subterfuges. It provides a new context – that of Krishna as
bhagavat/ god – in which we can understand his role in a war that is both righteous and
extremely destructive. But it is important to note that Krishna continues to be treated as a
human ally of the Pandavas in the chronologically ‘early’ portions of the Mahabharata
that follow his self-revelation in the Bhagavadgita. Given his considerable human role in
the Epic, it has been argued that Krishna may have been a historical character, a human
hero who was deified during the centuries when the Mahabharata was taking shape.

It appears that Krishna-Vasudeva’s cult amalgamated with that of Narayana/ Narayana-

Vishnu over time. Further evidence for the synthesis of these cults comes from the
Narayaniya – a ‘late’ portion of the Mahabharata that post-dates the Bhagavadgita.
Here, Narayana, the paramount deity, tells the seer Narada that Vasudeva is the supreme
purusha, the inner ruler of all. We also gather that Narayana performed asceticism by
which he became Brahma and saw Shiva. Shiva granted Narayana superiority over all
beings. The Narayaniya describes the worshippers of these gods by various names,
including Bhagavata and Pancharatra. It also mentions several groups of ascetics, among

33
them the Vaikhanasa, which was later classified as a Vaishnava sect. The variety of
names suggests the existence of slightly differing groups. The picture that emerges is of
several currents merging and evolving, of synthesis, but not complete integration.

II: Shaivism

Like Vishnu and Vaishnavism, Shiva and Shaivism grew by a process of accretion.
However, it is generally held that Shiva did not have avataras. The features making up
his complex nature came together in a single ambivalent figure. It has also been pointed
out that deities from diverse traditions were incorporated into the Shaiva pantheon by
building Shiva’s family. But first, let us look at Shiva himself.

Shiva literally means ‘the auspicious one’, but some of Shiva’s characteristics can be
traced to Rudra, a sinister god who occupies a subordinate position in the Vedic
pantheon. Rudra lives in the mountains, he is clothed in skins; his colour is brown, his
belly black and his back red. He is feared for his easily-aroused anger. His worshippers
implore him to spare men and cattle, but not to come in person. Rudra appears to be
something of a misfit among the divinities of the Rigveda: he is not offered the same
sacrifices as the others; instead, a ball of food is thrown on the ground for him. Indeed,
one can ask whether Rudra was a non-Vedic deity to begin with, an outsider who was
being absorbed into the Vedic pantheon.

Shiva, like Rudra, can be fearsome. And there is clear evidence of Shiva’s exclusion from
orthodox sacrifice in the Mahabharata and the Puranas. In fact, this is developed in the
myth of Daksha’s yajna, explaining both how Shiva was left out and then accepted into
the orthodox pantheon:
Daksha, who was Shiva’s father-in-law, began a sacrifice from which Shiva was
excluded. Shiva’s wife – Sati –was both enraged and deeply upset at this slight to her
husband. When she immolated herself, burning with fury and sorrow, Shiva attacked
Daksha's yajna. He was finally pacified and the sacrifice was completed; Shiva was now
given pride of place as the foremost god and the main offering was made to him.

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Rudra, however, was not the only deity from whom Shiva inherited aspects of his nature
and mythology. It has, for instance, been argued that Shiva draws something of his
connection with heat – the heat of asceticism and of sexual desire – from Agni, the fire
god. And the tension between Shiva’s ascetic and erotic aspects is an important feature of
his portrayal in the Puranas. He is an awesome ascetic, smeared with ashes and
meditating in a cremation ground, as well as the provocatively naked holy man who
attempts to seduce the wives of sages and the god who makes love to his wife for a
thousand years. Shiva is seen as the reconciliation of contrasts – he is both ascetic and
erotic, malevolent and auspicious, destructive and creative. These opposites are not
regarded as separate characteristics but as complementary states on whose relationship
life depends, and they are believed to form part of Shiva – the complete, omnipresent
deity.

Now for Shiva’s family. His son Ganesha, for instance, seems to have been co-opted into
the Shaiva pantheon. We gather that Shiva’s wife Parvati created Ganesha out of the dirt
of her body to guard her inner chambers. She created him in her husband’s absence,
without his intervention. When Shiva arrived at the door of Parvati’s quarters, Ganesha
did not allow him to enter. A fierce battle ensued in which Ganesha was finally beheaded
by Shiva. A distraught Parvati insisted that her son be brought back to life. Shiva
commanded his minions to fetch the head of the first living creature they encountered.
The first living being they saw was an elephant whose head they hewed off, and that was
joined to Ganesha’s body. Then Shiva sprinkled holy water on Ganesha and he awoke,
whole and fit, and elephant-headed. And Shiva declared that Ganesha would be
worshipped before all other gods, even Shiva himself. Historians discern the process of
assimilation of an ‘outsider’ into the Shaiva pantheon in the story of Ganesha’s
confrontation with Shiva and his absorption into Shiva’s family. That the incorporation
was not without its problems is suggested by the fact that Ganesha was beheaded for his
insubordination and had to be given a new head before he could be inducted into the
Shaiva pantheon.

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As for Shaiva sects, the Mahabharata in its latest parts refers to the Pashupatas, the
worshippers of Shiva Pashupati, as a distinct group along with the Pancharatras and
certain others. The Puranas tell us that Shiva binds the individual soul (pashu) to the
cycle of birth and rebirth with a rope (pasha), and that he is the lord of pashus –
Pashupati. Pashupata texts inform us that anyone who desires release from the
entanglements of worldly existence must pass through a number of stages in the progress
to union with Shiva, to liberation from the bonds of individual existence. To begin with,
the aspirant is attached to a temple, smears ashes on the body and worships Shiva by
dancing, roaring like a bull and laughing. Later, he leaves the temple, stops applying
ashes, invites ridicule by seeming drunk and by acting nonsensically or indecently, and
lives in a cremation ground. Practices such as trembling and suddenly falling down are
prescribed, for these are believed to help him conquer the senses and take him closer to
the divine. The worshipper gradually manages to sever all worldly ties. His final resting
place is Shiva: he shares that god’s nature, his omnipotence.

One can attempt to look for the rationale behind some of the stranger practices of the
Pashupatas. It has been argued that when Pashupati’s worshipper bellowed, he was
imitating a mighty animal (another meaning of pashu), and that he was copying Shiva in
his wild laughter and dancing. Imitation is believed to result in the imitator gaining some
of the powers of the one who is copied. Such imitation, trembling and suddenly falling
down may also suggest a background in the ideas of possession prevalent among
‘primitive peoples’ who lived beyond the pale of the brahmanical ‘Great Tradition’, in
the belief that the divine can temporarily take over the shaman. There may be another
explanation too. There is evidence that the Pashupatas were divided into orthodox and
heterodox groups, between which there was some tension. One can ask whether the
orthodox group was attempting to reform/brahmanize a heterodox faith. Indeed
Pashupata texts which stress that the aspirant only PRETENDS to be drunk and to make
lewd gestures, and that he DOES NOT ACTUALLY violate morality seem to suggest
this. In them, original actions are substituted by symbolic gestures, and thus rationalized.

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It was not only heterodox Pashupatas who were treated with suspicion by the orthodox,
members of some other Shaiva sects – the Kapalika, for example – were too. Kapalika
means bearer of the skull, from kapala or skull, the most distinctive symbol of this group.
The Kapalikas’ connection with the skull may be linked to the Puranic myth of Shiva’s
beheading of Brahma, and can perhaps be seen as an act of imitation by Shiva’s
worshippers. In texts of the early medieval period, Kapalikas are also associated with
licentiousness in matters of drink and sex, and even accused of acts of human sacrifice in
their propitiation of Shiva.

This said, we can end by repeating that Shiva was also a major focus of Puranic religion.
In that, he is a paradoxical figure. He is unconventional and disruptive, but also creates,
sustains and renews. He symbolizes the truth that opposites co-exist in our lives and in
the world. The true nature of reality, with its many apparent polarities, is encompassed by
Shiva.

III: Shaktism

Now for the worship of the Goddess – the third major divine focus in Puranic Hinduism.
The cults associated with her are usually termed Shakta, from shakti (power, energy),
denoting power as, or of, the goddess. It is generally held that the worship of a supreme
Goddess cannot be traced to Vedic religion. Male deities dominate the Vedic pantheon;
and while goddesses do appear in Vedic literature, none of them rivals the important male
gods. (This should have been discussed in Block 2.) Additionally, the female divinities
of the Vedic texts have no real relation to Devi – the great Goddess whose attributes are
all-encompassing, who embodies every individual goddess, the one from whom all
individual goddesses emanate. However, contemporary and later archaeological
evidence, as also that which predates the period of the composition of the Vedic corpus,
suggests the significance of goddesses. The word ‘goddesses’ (with a small ‘g’) is used
here deliberately because one cannot be sure of the veneration of a paramount Goddess in
pre-Vedic India, and indeed, till the early centuries A.D. There may have been a number
of powerful goddesses to one or the other of whom members of different communities

37
offered absolute allegiance. These goddesses might have shared many characteristics and
yet had distinct identities. This said, it is generally maintained that the veneration of an
immensely mighty goddess is pre-Vedic, non-brahmanical and non-Sanskritic in its
origins.

The Goddess surfaces in Sanskrit literature in the early centuries A.D. It is generally
maintained that the Indian case is different from that of much of the rest of the world
where the Goddess, once dethroned by a dominant male god, never resurfaced in all her
glory. What is more, in the western world, the Goddess herself was transformed. To
begin with, her attributes were all-encompassing: she had power over life and death, for
good and evil; her sexuality was connected with birth, death and regeneration; her aspects
included those of mother, warrior, protector. Later, her various qualities were embodied
in separate goddesses, and her warrior aspect diminished, probably relegated to a male
god. The example of the Virgin Mary is often cited to illustrate the phenomenon of the
replacement of immensely mighty female divinities by male deities. The figure of the
Virgin Mary is subordinate to those of her son and his father. Some scholars have argued
that her power lies in her ability to appeal to God’s mercy; it derives from her
motherhood and the miracle of her immaculate conception – she has no power in her own
right.

But, as we have already noted, the Indian record is different. And it is generally held that
by the third-fourth centuries A.D., the cults of the Goddess became as much a part of the
brahmanical ‘Great Tradition’ as the religions of God. Scholars have asked why the
Indian case has been distinctive. It has been argued that the explanation may lie in the
peculiarity of Indian culture which has shown a greater tolerance of religious plurality
than the western world. Additionally, Hinduism was never centrally organized, and that
fostered diversity. It is likely that the veneration of powerful goddesses never ceased in
India, it was just that those who worshipped them did not compose Sanskrit texts. Thus, it
is maintained that the earliest exaltations of the Goddess in Sanskrit must be seen as the
continuation of an old religion, not as something new. By the fourth century A.D., deities
from a range of traditions had been incorporated into the Puranic pantheon, and the

38
appearance of the Goddess in the Mahabharata and the Puranas must be seen as part of
the Puranic process.

One may especially mention the Devi Mahatmya, a eulogy on the Goddess, which forms
a section of the Markandeya Purana. This is dated to about the sixth century A.D., and
gives a detailed account of the birth, appearance and exploits of the Goddess. That she
was initially somewhat of an ‘outsider’ in brahmanical texts is suggested by her habitats
and habits. She is very often called Durga, literally ‘woman of difficult terrain’. Durga is
repeatedly associated with mountains, usually the Himalaya or the Vindhyas. One of her
common epithets is Vindhyavasini, she who dwells in the Vindhyas, and these Vindhya
hills are projected as dangerous in a number of brahmanical texts, at least partly because
they were peopled by hostile tribal groups. Indeed, Durga is said to be venerated by tribal
peoples such as the Shabaras. Further, in this worship, she is said to receive (and enjoy)
meat and blood, both of which are regarded as highly polluting in a number of smriti
texts. In the Devi Mahatmya, Durga is also described as quaffing wine during her battle
with Mahisha, the buffalo demon. Her taste for alcohol, and her laughing and glaring
with red eyes under its influence, again convey a picture of an unorthodox deity.
Additionally, Durga is associated with some negative qualities or powers such as sleep
and maya (delusion). Indeed, in the Devi Mahatmya, she is called Mahamaya (the power
that binds people to delusion), Tamasi (darkness), and so on. In that text, she puts Vishnu
to sleep, reducing him to powerlessness – he is only able to slay the demons Madhu and
Kaitabha when she LEAVES him.

Durga too is a slayer of demons – she fights those whom the male gods cannot defeat,
and she wins. In perhaps the best-known account of her origin, she is created when the
male gods are unable to subdue the mighty demon Mahisha:
After performing heroic austerities, Mahisha was granted the boon that he would be
invincible to all opponents except a woman. He defeated the gods in battle and usurped
their positions. The gods assembled, and furious about Mahisha’s victories, emitted their
fiery energies. These congealed into the form of a woman, she embodied the strength of
all the gods. She is also presented as a beautiful virgin.

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Durga’s male opponents are sometimes portrayed as enamoured of her. We gather that
they did not wish to fight her, and that they made offers of marriage to her. We may find
Durga telling a suitor that her family had imposed a condition on her marriage – that her
husband must first defeat her in battle. Some renderings of her story have the Goddess
rejecting the offer of marriage in fierce, combative language, foretelling how she will
decimate her suitor in battle. The antagonist, however, interpreted this language as a
metaphor for love play, and insisted on doing battle, in which the beautiful young Durga
annihilated him. On the battlefield, Durga also created female helpers for herself. Kali
was one of these – she sprang from Durga’s forehead, and was withdrawn into Durga
after the battle.

We can ask whether this may be seen as an attempt to integrate one form with another.
Indeed, we are often told that the Goddess is one, but manifests herself plurally: she is the
fierce Kali as well as the benign Gauri, for instance. Sometimes Shiva’s wife Parvati is
called both Kali and Gauri. On one occasion, when Shiva called Parvati Kali (black), she
took offence and resolved to rid herself of her dark skin. She became golden-
complexioned (Gauri) by performing austerities. In some versions of the myth, her
discarded black skin became a warrior goddess who fought demons. This said, we can
end by noting that, despite attempts at bringing diverse goddesses under a unifying
umbrella, they also continued to be venerated in their individual identities. This is
suggested, for instance, by the eighth century Prakrit text Gaudavaho. That work paints a
vivid picture of the worship of Vindhyavasini, the goddess of the Shabaras, who is
propitiated by human sacrifice.

[PART B]: FEATURES OF PURANIC RELIGION – I ) IMAGES/ ICONS

AND ICONOGRAPHY
II ) THE TEMPLE
III )PILGRIMAGE &
CENTRES OF PILGRIMAGE
IV ) VRATA

40
 V ) MANTRA
VI ) RITUAL SPECIALISTS
VII ) BHAKTI

We can begin by noting that much of the Hinduism that is commonly practised today is
Puranic Hinduism. So, not surprisingly, many of the features of Puranic religion
discussed in the following pages will be familiar to readers of this block.

I: Images/ icons and iconography

God is believed to be omnipresent, essentially formless and invisible. But innumerable

people over the centuries have also believed that their chosen deity can take up residence
in his/her images (murti and pratima are the commonly used terms). It is an act of
graciousness on the deity’s part to become visible as an icon. In this way, god caters to
the needs of human devotees, for most of those who revere the divine require an
accessible focus to venerate their chosen deity. However, an image should only be
worshipped after it has been formally consecrated. This is called prana-pratishtha,
literally, installing breath or, in other words, animating the icon. It is thought that the
image becomes god’s body after prana-pratishtha, and that it should be treated like a
living being – albeit a rather special, honoured person. So, every day in temples, the icon
is awakened, ritually bathed, garlanded, offered food, allowed to rest in the afternoon,
formally taken leave of at night, and so on. In homes, the ritual of worship tends to be
less elaborate. But again, the image is treated like a living, breathing being – it is bathed,
talked to, offered sweetmeats etc.

Let us briefly discuss Hindu iconography here. (Might it be possible to have a few line
drawings? At least of Shiva as Nataraja?) An image cannot be made in just any way –
its fashioning has to follow the directives of a tradition, ‘Great’ and/or ‘Little’. An icon
generally depicts a particular myth, or an aspect of a deity, or indeed, a combination of
these. We shall begin with some Vaishnava examples. A Vaishnava image can be of

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Vishnu himself. He usually has four arms and holds a lotus, conch, mace and a discus
symbolizing the wheel of dharma in his hands. (The depiction of more than two arms and
hands is, of course, an artistic device. It is the artists’ way of suggesting the many sorts of
powers and facets of a deity, of expressing a wealth of meanings through a single image.)
Or one may find an icon of Vishnu depicting a feat attributed to him. One may, for
instance, find Vishnu with one leg raised high – here he is Trivikrama, ‘Vishnu of the
three strides’, and this representation harks back to a Vedic motif that we mentioned in
Lesson II. Or the image can be of one of Vishnu’s avataras – of Rama with a bow and
quiver of arrows; or the child Krishna dancing on the many-hooded Kaliya, the king of
snakes whom he subdued; and so on.

Now for Shaiva iconography. We may find an icon of Shiva by himself. He could be
depicted as Nataraja, ‘lord of dance’, for instance. His dance is the dance of both creation
and destruction. As Nataraja, Shiva is four armed; the palm of one hand bears a flame
that symbolizes purification or annihilation, one hand holds a small drum which emits the
cosmic sound that pervades the whole universe, a third hand displays the abhaya mudra
or gesture assuring devotees that they need fear nothing, and the fourth points to an
upraised foot inviting all those who believe in him to take refuge at his feet. Shiva tends
to have matted locks (unlike Vishnu who has beautifully arranged hair) and a cobra
(symbolizing fertility) entwined about him. Both the creative and destructive aspects of
Shiva are implied in the Nataraja icon – the cobra, for instance, suggests the former and
the flame in Shiva’s hand, the latter. That god often holds a trident and has a third eye in
the middle of his forehead. A burst of fire from this central eye reduced Kama, the god of
love, to ashes when he tried to interrupt Shiva’s meditation. It is believed that Shiva can
burn up the whole world when angered. We may also find this deity with Parvati, his wife
– the loving, erotic, creative and familial aspect of his personality is more clearly
depicted in these images.

While on the subject of Shaiva iconography, one can also mention the representation of
Shiva’s son Ganesha. The story of how that deity came by his elephant head has already
been recounted. But we may note that the elephant denotes power, and Ganesha is

42
believed to have the power to remove even the biggest impediments. However, when it is
provoked or in rut, the sinister side of an elephant asserts itself – the animal can be
extremely destructive because it is so strong. When not propitiated properly, Ganesha can
choose not to clear hindrances. Instead, he may wreak havoc, cause mishaps, make life
very difficult. As Vighnaraja, lord of obstacles, he can both create and eliminate them.
Ganesha’s elephant ears are like winnowing-fans, and suggest the sifting of wisdom. The
small pile of sweets at the tip of his trunk symbolizes plenty, and Ganesha is regarded as
the giver of success. The god may be shown with many arms and hands – one hand tends
to carry a hatchet and signifies the cutting away of falsehood; another may hold the noose
with which elephants are roped, symbolizing the power to control the senses; yet another
may display the abhaya mudra; and so on.

And finally to an example of the iconography of the Goddess. Here, we shall only discuss
one manifestation of the Goddess -- Kali. She has a frightening appearance. She is
usually naked, with long dishevelled hair, and is adorned with a garland of freshly
severed heads and a cobra draped around her neck. In her coloured icons, Kali is dark,
has black hair, blood-smeared lips and a long red tongue.

We may end our discussion of icons and iconography by noting that deities are also
represented aniconically. For instance, Shiva is very often worshipped in the form of a
linga (literally, ‘mark’ or ‘symbol’), signifying the phallus or the erotic, fertile, creative
aspect of that god. The linga is usually a short, cylindrical pillar of black stone with a
rounded top. It mostly stands in the centre of a shallow, tear-drop shaped bowl, also of
black stone, which represents the yoni or female sexual organ. The linga and yoni
symbolize Shiva and Parvati, god united with goddess, the coming together of male and
female, the fusing of opposites, a synthesis, creative power.

II: The temple

As image worship gradually became established as an alternative to the Vedic yajna, it

was thought necessary to build ‘residences’ (mandira, devalaya) for these objects of

43
veneration. Image worship seems to have become an important feature of the ‘Great
Tradition’ by the last couple of centuries B.C. To begin with, natural features like caves
were used to house images. Perishable materials may also have been used to construct
shrines, but such structures have not survived; and stone temples only began to be built in
significant numbers from the middle of the first millennium A.D. This coincides with the
period of the Guptas. You may recall that that was a crucial time for the development of
Puranic Hinduism, and temple-making and worship are salient aspects of that religion.

Even though Vedic religion did not involve the construction of temples, a connection is
sometimes made in the Puranic tradition between the sacrifice and this new type of
structure meant to house the divine. Just as the yajna gives new birth to its patron who is
reborn as a more evolved person closer to the transcendental divine, the worshipper too is
reborn in the sacred space of a temple, especially through contact with the god in the
sanctum sanctorum. It is worth noting, however, that the place of sacrifice became sacred
only temporarily whereas a temple, especially one built with stone, is a much more
permanent sacred space.

Connections are also made between the temple and the human body. The ritual for
building a temple begins with digging the earth and planting a pot containing precious
stones, metals, herbs, soils and minerals. The analogy with a woman is clear – the earth is
the womb, the seed (the pot) is placed inside her, the offspring (the temple) grows out of
her. The different parts of the structure are named after various parts of the human body.
For instance, the sanctum sanctorum, which is raised above the implanted seed/pot, is the
innermost and darkest part of the temple, and is called the garbhagriha, the womb-house.
The top of the temple is known as the shikhara, the head. The symbolism may be
extended even further. If the temple has three doors, they are said to represent the three
states of consciousness (sleep, wakefulness, dream) through which one may reach the
deity within, and so on.

Temple-building and worship involve still more symbolisms of gradually coming closer
to the divine. Temples are often built on hills or in the mountains, or have long flights of

44
steps leading up to them, and the ascent signifies life’s spiritual journey. Climbing up is
regarded as an enlightening experience. The worshipper is thought to be purified
progressively in his/her approach to the sanctum sanctorum. This can begin by passing
through walled enclosures surrounding the temple complex. It could include a ritual bath
in the temple pond symbolizing cleansing and regeneration. It may involve
circumambulation of secondary images and shrines (i.e., those other than the central
image and garbhagriha) which could have been constructed at specific places in the
temple compound. And, like image-making, temple-building follows time-honoured rules
pertaining to design and proportion.

III: Pilgrimage and centres of pilgrimage

Those in search of the transcendental divine may also journey to a sacred place much
larger than a temple – they may make a pilgrimage to a city like Banaras. They would
want to have the darshana of the place itself as well as of the representation of its
presiding deity housed in a temple. The word darshana means ‘seeing’ the divine. It is
thought that the pilgrims’ vision is sharpened by the rigours of a journey to a place like
Banaras. Some pilgrims come on foot, some on bullock carts, others may now travel long
distances by bus or train. They live very simply, with few material comforts. It is
believed that they are progressively cleansed as they approach a place like Banaras – their
destination is a spiritual one, so also is their journey.

The term used for a centre of pilgrimage is tirtha. It comes from the root tri which means
‘to cross over’. Tirtha can be translated as ‘crossing place’ or ‘ford’. Some tirthas are
indeed fords where rivers can be crossed safely. Banaras, for instance, is located at the
ford where the uttarapatha, the ancient northern Indian trade route, crossed the Ganga.
The term tirtha, however, generally denotes a spiritual ford where one ‘crosses over’
from ‘this shore’ of the mundane world, of ignorance of god to the other shore – the ‘far
shore’ of liberation from entanglement in the flow of individual existence, of knowledge
of the divine.

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One’s prayers and rites travel upwards to the world of the gods faster from a tirtha than
from anywhere else. A tirtha is also a place for the downward crossings of divinities.
You will recall that the noun avatara is derived from the same root as tirtha, but ava is
prefixed to it, and ava-tri means ‘to come down’. As avataras descend, they open the
doors of tirthas so that the prayers and rites of human beings may ascend. So, Mathura
and Ayodhya, for instance, are tirthas where Krishna and Rama are said to have been
born (where they are thought to have descended), and it is believed that anyone who dies
within their boundaries attains liberation from the cycle of birth and rebirth forever.

We have so far mentioned three tirthas – Banaras, Mathura and Ayodhya. In fact, there
are hundreds of sacred places in India. But a few have been especially important. There
are, for instance, the sapta puris or seven cities that are considered to be very holy –
Ayodhya, Mathura, Hardvar, Banaras, Kanchi, Ujjain and Dvaraka are described as
mokshada, ‘bestower[s] of liberation’. In addition, there are four dhamas or divine
abodes at four ends of India – Badrinath in the north, Puri in the east, Rameshvaram in
the south and Dvaraka in the west. There are a hundred-and-eight pithas or ‘seats’ of the
Goddess. These are places where various parts of the body of Shiva’s wife, Sati, are
believed to have fallen when the grieving Shiva danced wildly through the worlds
carrying her corpse. In her next life, Sati was born as Parvati. Taken together, the pithas
are thought to comprise the full body of the Goddess. Individually, they are believed to
have been sanctified by some part of her – an eye, for instance. Madurai, with its temple
to Meenakshi, the ‘fish-eyed’ goddess, is an example. There are also twelve places where
Shiva is thought to be present as the jyotirlinga, the column of light. And there are
tirthas, such as Pandharpur in Maharashtra, that are primarily important for the people of
a particular region.

The stories of tirthas are recounted in mahatmyas (hymns of praise). These lauds – of
particular deities or places – form part of the Puranic tradition. Some may even be found
in the eighteen major Puranas enumerated in Lesson II. For instance, Banaras is glorified
in one of the seven sections of the Skanda Purana – the Kashi Khanda. Kashi is the most
ancient name of Banaras. It is commonly derived from the root kash, ‘to shine’. Thus,

46
Kashi is the luminous one, the illumining one. The Kashi Khanda tells us that it is
because ‘the light, which is Shiva, shines [kashate] here’, that the city is called Kashi.
Here, Shiva is present as the jyotirlinga. The column of light is believed to be the pillar at
the centre of the world – it originates in the nether lands, cracks the surface of the earth,
pierces the roof of the sky. And we are told that Kashi is the place where the light split
the earth. So, that city is part of the linga which knits the three worlds together and is,
therefore, a ‘crossing place’, a tirtha. Anyone who dies in Kashi – whether pure or sinful,
brahmana or outcaste, man or woman – is liberated from the cycle of birth and rebirth.
And the play of words in Sanskrit repeatedly emphasizes the relationship of this city with
the light of enlightenment – Banaras is often called moksha-prakashika Kashi, the
luminous one which illumines liberation. One may end this section by noting that
Banaras is only one tirtha in an extensive network of sacred places. These dot the land
which stretches from the Himalaya, the abode of the gods, in the north, to Kanya Kumari,
where the Goddess dwells at the southernmost tip of the country; and this entire area is
criss-crossed by pilgrimage routes.

IV: Vrata

We have drawn attention to some of the religious shifts that form part of the development
of Puranic Hinduism. The shift from the yajna meant to be performed only by Vedic
experts to puja (worship, mostly image worship) by nearly all is an example. The shift
from rituals in which a plot of ground is temporarily cordoned off and made into a sacred
space by experts in a consecration rite, to worship in permanent structures open to a far
wider range of Hindus is another. However, of the features of Puranic religion under
discussion in this lesson, the vrata, bhakti and pilgrimage are the only three in which the
right of participation is extended to everyone, irrespective of caste and gender. We have
already written about pilgrimage. Bhakti is the subject of Part A of Lesson IV, and also of
Section VII of Part B of this Lesson. Now for the vrata. We can begin by noting that the
term may be derived from the root vri, which means ‘to surround, encompass’. And the
vrata may be seen as a practice that could encompass all the members of a community –
brahmanas and shudras, men and women, the literate and non-literate.

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A vrata is ‘a vowed observance’, ‘a religious act of devotion or austerity’ which one
undertakes for a certain period of time, usually a number of days or weeks. Vratas are
performed for the fulfilment of specific wishes – the birth of a son, the long life of one’s
husband, victory in a war, the advent of rain, for instance. The Puranas emphasize the
austere, restrictive aspects of vratas, and the observance of a vrata may be likened to the
accumulation of tapas (spiritual energy). The latter involves giving up certain things (e.g.
sense-gratification. Sexual restraint is a key means of acquiring tapas. The classic symbol
of the loss of tapas is the discharge of semen. Hindu texts are full of stories of ascetics
being seduced by voluptuous nymphs and losing their spiritual heat). Gaining tapas also
requires that particular things be done (e.g. that austerities, like standing on one leg in
water for a long time, be practiced). In short, it is believed that enduring hardships
progressively leads to the building up of spiritual power. Similarly, vratas involve
abstentions and special observances, and these are thought to be instrumental in one’s
wishes coming true.

The story of Savitri illustrates a number of aspects of the vrata, and the names of some
Puranic vratas include ‘Savitri’. One may mention here vratas such as the Brahma-
Savitri and Vata-Savitri. Savitri is held as a model of wifely devotion and resolution to
this day. Her tale is recounted in the Mahabharata and repeated, with variations, in
several Puranas. In the Mahabharata, it is as follows:
Savitri chose to marry Satyavan even though he was destined to die within a year of their
marriage. For a little less than a year, the couple lived happily in a forest hermitage, and
according to the austere rules of that place. Some time before the fateful day, Savitri
undertook a rigorous vow to fast and remain standing all the time (including at night) till
the day of her husband’s death, and this vow she kept. On the day of Satyavan’s death,
Savitri made a libation into the fire, performed the early morning rites and greeted all the
brahmana elders of the hermitage, as well as her parents-in-law who lived there too. The
inmates, all of whom wished Savitri well, pronounced blessings for her never to be
widowed. Her parents-in-law asked her to break her fast as she had kept her vow. Savitri,
however, replied that she would only eat after her wish had been fulfilled. While she was

48
speaking to her parents-in-law, Satyavan started for the forest to gather fruit and
firewood, and Savitri followed him. After a while, Satyavan felt extremely tired. He lay
down under a tree and died. When Yama, the god of death, came to take away Satyavan’s
soul, Savitri followed him. A lengthy conversation ensued between Yama and Savitri.
Finally, Savitri was able to persuade the god of death to bring her husband back to life. In
fact, Yama granted Satyavan a life of four hundred years.

What does this story tell us about vratas? It is evident that vratas could be observed by
women. This is an important point, for women and shudras were debarred from many
religious activities. The law book of Manu, for instance, tells us that there is no ritual
with Vedic verses for women and that shudras are not entitled to hear, learn, recite or
teach the Veda. In contrast, the Puranas prescribe vratas for men and women of all social
groups, and tell us that they are particularly for women. We learn that vows are
undertaken for a specific period of time for the realization of certain desires. We gather
that vratas involve enduring hardships – Savitri is said to be gaunt from standing upright
and from her fast. Her conduct generally, her carrying on despite weakness and fatigue,
her accompanying Satyavan into the wilderness on foot, and her long conversation with
Yama suggest that she was a devoted wife, now ‘perfected by her stressful vow [vrata]’.

Following the Mahabharata, we also mentioned some early morning rituals that Savitri
performed on the day Satyavan was due to die – these or other rituals appear to form part
of vratas too. The procedure of a vrata, as described in texts of the Puranic corpus, may
include having a ritual bath; going to the temple; making floral designs before the icon of
one’s chosen deity there; offering presents like clothes, sweetmeats and betel leaf to the
god at regular intervals; going around the icon chanting the name of the deity; singing
and dancing before the image; spending the night in the temple; staying awake and
listening to the story of why the vrata being observed came to be kept, and to other tales
from the Epics and Puranas; bathing a symbol of one’s chosen god – a small stone linga,
for instance – in a mixture of milk, yogurt, clarified butter, honey and sugar the following
morning; giving gifts to brahmanas; and so on.

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Sometimes Puranic texts tell us that merely listening to an account of why a vrata came
to be observed is sufficient to obtain what one desires. (We may note that Savitri’s story,
as recounted in the Mahabharata, does not have her listening to any such narratives.
Savitri is the model wife, the one whose example other women are expected to follow.
Since her tale demonstrates the effectiveness of the vow she undertook, its recitation has
become a part of the drill of certain vratas.) In other words, the katha element of vrata is
emphasized in the Puranic tradition. The word katha is derived from the root kath,
meaning ‘to tell, narrate, speak about’. So, katha may be translated as ‘telling’ or
‘narration’. These two terms suggest the meaning of katha more accurately than ‘tale’ or
‘story’ (the translations of the word we most often encounter), because 'telling' and
'narration' imply the presence of listeners. But what sort of people were these kathas
narrated to?

You will recall that the Puranas prescribe vratas for men and women of all social groups.
Not surprisingly, the vratas which are named after Savitri have historically been
undertaken by women. Others, such as the Annapurna vrata, named after the goddess
who provides anna (food, or more generally, abundance in life), have been observed by
women and men. Everyone, irrespective of their caste or gender, would also have been
entitled to listen to vratakathas. A skilled storyteller can hold an audience captive. And as
listeners enjoy a story and participate in its progress, they become receptive to its moral.
The katha recounted on the occasion of a vrata could have been a very effective medium
for the transmission of messages – particularly brahmanical messages contained in the
Epic-Puranic tales -- to a large and varied gathering of all kinds of people.

V: Mantra

Mantra is derived from man and trai. Trai means ‘to protect’ and man has to do with the
mind. Mantra may thus be seen as an instrument which guards the mind – that insulates
the mind from rushing from one thought to another and enables it to concentrate on one
preferred idea. Mantras are commonly understood to be utterances which have the innate
potency to produce specific results. The etymology of the term suggests that they are

50
thought to be effective because they attune the user’s mind, and indeed, his/her whole
being to one objective. It is also believed that mantras release their power only if used in
the right way – if they are pronounced correctly, if certain ritual gestures are made, if a
code of ritual purity is followed by bathing or fasting, for instance.

An example of a mantra is Om. This is pervasive in Vedic and post-Vedic Hinduism, and
is uttered at the beginning and end of all religious rituals to this day. Om is considered to
be the essence of the cosmic sound that fills the entire world. It is believed that if
someone utters Om correctly and experiences it in depth, he/she becomes one with the
spirit underlying the universe; Om has that innate power. Namah Shivaya (obeisance to
Shiva) is another important mantra. It is said that this five-syllabled formula destroys the
sins of those people of the Kali age who chant it. It is thought to have the capacity to free
Shiva’s true devotees from the cycle of birth and rebirth.

We may also mention the chanting of the sahasranama, the thousand names of the deity.
There are Vaishnava and Shaiva sahasranamas, as well as those of the Goddess. These
are lists extracted from the Epics and the Puranic corpus. The Vishnu sahasranama, for
instance, is taken from Book XIII of the Mahabharata. Vishnu is glorified as Narasimha,
Rama, as lovely-limbed, golden-navelled (the navel representing the centre of the world),
the support of the universe, the great devourer (as Time), cooling dew (because he
removes the fever of sin and suffering), honey (for he gives sweetness and joy like
honey), as indestructible, incomparable and much else. Nama is a mantra – it is thought
to empower, to fulfil all desires, even unite the chanter and listener with his/her god. The
recitation and hearing of the sahasranama is often done collectively, and bonds the
worshippers, at least temporarily.

VI: Ritual specialists

We have repeatedly drawn attention to the inclusive character of Puranic Hinduism and
emphasized its appeal to a fairly wide range of Hindus. But we have also mentioned
various rituals that form part of that religion. Making offerings to images in temples,

51
participating in katha sessions and even cremation at pilgrim centres are examples. It is
important to note that for all the openness of Puranic Hinduism, such rituals could not,
and cannot, be performed in just any way. They very often required, and continue to
require, specialist officiants.

At a tirtha like Banaras, pandas minister to many of the needs of pilgrims. The latter are
expected to make a sankalpa or statement of intent as an accompaniment to important
ritual acts at particular stages of their journey to the sacred spots of the city. The pandas
recite this for most pilgrims. Cupping the right hand over the left and holding some grains
of rice, perhaps some betel nut, some water from the Ganga and some coins, pilgrims
listen to the words of their sankalpa as they are uttered by a panda: ‘I, of this family and
this village/city, am here at Kashi at this time, in this place, making the pilgrimage of the
city’s holy spots.’ If a pilgrim wants a particular wish to come true – to have a son, to live
a long time, to recover from an illness, for example – that is stated. Sometimes, however,
a pilgrimage is made without any specific goal in mind. In a sankalpa, a panda describes
such a journey as one undertaken ‘to please Shiva’ (the presiding deity of Banaras). By
reciting the sankalpa, as also in numerous other ways, pandas act as intermediaries
between pilgrims and the divine.

In tirthas such as Banaras, there are sacred specialists other than pandas too. There are,
for instance, the mahapatras who specialize in death rites. There are also pujaris who
officiate in temples. At certain times of the day, the main image housed in a temple
receives visitors with a priest in attendance. This is when worshippers can have the
darshana of the deity. Offerings are made in the pujari’s presence, and he may perform
an arati, i.e., clockwise circular movements of an oil-lamp held in the right hand, before
the image. He usually holds a hand bell in his left hand, which he rings continuously
during the process. In short, a ritual specialist presides over the occasion at which contact
is established between the divine focus and the worshipper.

VII: Bhakti

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Bhakti is the subject of Part A of Lesson IV, and it is discussed in some detail there.
However, a couple of comments would be in order here. First, bhakti is used as a
convenient short-hand term for a range of beliefs and movements. Some of these are not
easy to square with the features of Puranic religion we have discussed so far. For
example, while the importance given to shrines and sacred places is a striking feature of
one sort of bhakti (and of Puranic religion), image worship, temple-going and pilgrimage
to sacred places are questioned in another kind of bhakti. Both types of bhakti – the more
Puranic and the less so – will be discussed in Lesson IV. Second, this said, we need to
note that both forms of bhakti should be seen as part of the religious shift we have
referred to so often – that from the religion of the few to the religion of the multitude.
Indeed, most bhakti literature tells us that high caste, learning and wealth do not take one
closer to god. It is his/her bhakti that qualifies a person for god’s grace, for knowledge of
the divine and liberation from entanglement in worldly existence. But more on this, and
much else, in Lesson IV.

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LESSON IV: BHAKTI & TANTRISM

[PART A]: BHAKTI

I: Some preliminaries

In this section, we have included an extract from the Bhagavata Purana, a key text of
Vaishnava bhakti which is generally dated to the ninth-tenth centuries. Seven poems of
bhakti poet-saints have also been included. Two of the poems are by the twelfth-century
Shiva devotee Basavanna, three are by the Vaishnava saint Nammalvar (approx. A.D.
880-930) and two are by Sundaramurti, a Shaiva saint who lived at the end of the seventh
and the beginning of the eighth centuries. Together, these suggest a few salient features
of bhakti and indicate the variety of beliefs and practices encompassed by that term. The
importance given to shrines and sacred places is a significant aspect of Sundaramurti’s
poems; to him, the temple is the space where Shiva graciously manifests himself. In
contrast, idolatory, temple worship and pilgrimage to sacred places are critiqued in the
poems of other bhakti saints – Basavanna’s, for instance. And the first poem of this
section articulates the tension between two conceptions of worship, of bhakti.

But let us also attempt to comprehend the term bhakti in a way that encompasses its
varieties. The seven poems by bhakti saints and the extract from the Bhagavata Purana
that follow will substantiate our understanding of the word bhakti, and the commentary
accompanying the poems (some of that will be in the footnotes/boxes) will draw attention
to a few significant features of bhakti. (I would prefer footnotes. But if it is not
possible to have footnotes, the same information could be put into boxes.) Bhakti is
generally translated as ‘devotion’, and is understood as a person’s devotion to his/her
chosen deity. For convenience, we will continue to translate bhakti as devotion, but it is
useful to note that the etymology of the term implies a two-way relationship. Bhakti is
usually derived from the root bhaj, meaning ‘to divide’, ‘to share with’, ‘to obtain as
one’s share’. The object of bhakti is bhagavat. The latter word is generally translated as
god, but also denotes ‘the one who possesses and shares bhaga [literally, good fortune or

54
bliss]’. The devotee – bhakta or bhagavata (pronounced bhaagavata) – shares his/her
chosen deity’s bhaga. The extracts from bhakti literature below illustrate the mutuality of
the relationship between the human and the divine.

A bhakta may express his devotion to his God thus:

The rich
will make temples for Siva.
What shall I,
a poor man,
do?

My legs are pillars,

the body the shrine,
the head a cupola
of gold.1

Listen, O lord of the meeting rivers,2

1
You will recall that temples are built in the image of the human body. This poem uses that metaphor.
Here, the bhakta – Basavanna – is offering not a stone temple built like the human body, but himself.
2
Almost all of Basavanna’s poems are addressed to Shiva as the lord of the meeting rivers. Basavanna is
said to have found enlightenment in Kudalasangama, a sacred place in north Karnataka where two rivers
meet.
An important point to note is that Basavanna addresses Shiva directly, he establishes a personal rapport
with his god, and bhakti involves a personal relationship between the devotee and the divine. Broadly, two
kinds of bhakti are often distinguished: nirguna and saguna. Nirguna bhakti is generally understood as
personal devotion offered to an impersonal, attributeless (nirguna) godhead. He may bear a name like
Shiva, but he is not the Shiva of mythology. He is worshipped without icons and shrines. Basavanna’s
bhakti is nirguna bhakti. His followers do not revere images of Shiva housed in temples. Instead, they wear
the linga, the aniconic emblem of Shiva, round their necks, symbolizing his personal and near presence.
Saguna bhakti is usually understood as bhakti directed towards a particular god with attributes (saguna), a
mythology, icons and temples. Krishna bhakti generally offers its best illustrations. Nammalvar’s poems
for Vishnu included in this section are examples of saguna bhakti literature.

55
 things standing shall fall,
but the moving ever shall stay.

(Basavanna, trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Speaking of Siva,

New Delhi: Penguin Books, 1973, p. 88)

A bhakta may be ridiculed because of his obsession with his God, but a true devotee is
willing to risk that. It might seem to most people that he is acting like a madman; that
doesn’t deter him.

Mumbling and prattling

the many names
of our lord…

while onlookers say,

“They’re crazy,”

entering and not entering

cities,
standing still or swaying
before a laughing world,

they dance, they leap,

undone by feeling….

(Nammalvar, trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning:

Poems for Visnu by Nammalvar, New Delhi: Penguin Books, 1993, p. 54)

The bhakta’s emotional fervour is also described in the Bhagavata Purana, albeit in the
words of the deity:

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Without the bristling of the hair of the body, without the mind dissolving, without
being inarticulate because of tears of joy, without bhakti, how can the heart be
purified? He whose voice is stammering, whose thought dissolves, who
repeatedly weeps and sometimes laughs, who, shameless, sings and dances –
such a person [is] attached by bhakti to me….

(from Friedhelm Hardy, Viraha Bhakti: The Early History of Krsna

Devotion in South India, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1983, p.496)

In turn, the bhakta’s God is expected to tend him.

As a mother runs
close behind her child
with his hand on a cobra
or a fire,

the lord of the meeting rivers

stays with me
every step of the way
and looks after me.

(Basavanna, trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Speaking of Siva, p. 71)

Nammalvar has the following to say about Vishnu:

A ship drowning,
calling out for help
in a lashing sea,

57
 I tossed in this ocean of births
when the lord
in his splendor,
bearing wheel and conch,
called out to me: “O, O, you there!”

showed me his grace

and became one with me.

(trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning, p. 84)

Most bhakti literature tells us that riches, learning and high caste do not endear one to
god. It is his/her bhakti that qualifies the bhakta for grace. Grace is often understood as
liberation from the cycle of birth and rebirth in the devotee becoming one with the deity.
The union between god and devotee may have erotic connotations. Indeed, the root bhaj,
from which the term bhakti is derived, has a sexual use, and bhaja mam ‘share in/with
me’, for instance, can mean ‘make love to me’. In some of his poems, Nammalvar speaks
as an actor in the Krishna myth. In them, the devotee is depicted as feminine, the Lord is
male, the supreme lover. In the extract below, Nammalvar speaks as the beloved who
asks Krishna to unite with her.

O dark raincloud
Krsna
without you
I’m not

take me

(trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning, p. 25)

58
On a lighter note, a bhakta may want a share in specific items that his God possesses.
And in one of Sundaramurti’s poems we find a fairly detailed list of what that bhakta’s
chosen deity – Shiva – is expected to provide.

Fire-hued lord…
…give me, in your mercy, the silken clothes I need….
Let hardships cease: when will you give us
that bar of gold?
Please order for me from your treasury
sweet perfumes, clothes and ornaments….
You have plenty of riches, you have never been poor.
Of all the treasures that keep pouring into graceful Arur 3,
I want one part out of three – after all, there is so much!
…and then I also need a horse, swift as the wind,
you who dwell in Nakaikkaronam, by the sea.

(trans. by David Shulman, The Wisdom of Poets: Studies in Tamil,

Telugu, and Sanskrit, New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2001, pp. 74-5)

And what happens if the bhakti god disappoints his bhakta? Sundaramurti says:

Not just once am I yours,

3
Arur, as well as Nakaikkaronam, mentioned later in the poem, are sacred places associated with Shiva.
Sundaramurti’s conception of a holy place includes in its scope the larger settlement within which the
temple of his chosen deity is situated. The term for a temple in Tamil – the language Sundaramurti uses – is
koyil, which is also the word for a king’s house. In fact, south Indian temples look very much like palaces.
They house bejewelled gods who wear expensive clothes. They were richly endowed, and patronized by the
wealthy and powerful, without whom these monumental, beautifully ornamented structures would not have
been possible. Sundaramurti’s poem makes use of the concept of the temple as a palace, one with all
manner of treasures. What is more, some shrines were in prosperous urban centres of government, trade
and culture. Kanchipuram, Madurai and Arur were temple centres of this type.

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 but in all the seven kinds of birth
I am your servant
and your servant’s servant.
I belong to you
by right;
even my heart
melts in love –
yet you still won’t show me
your feet decked with flowers.
If our lord of Paccilacciramam4,
who has mercy on those blessed with
precious fame,
talks big
and then acts low,
can’t we find some other god?

(trans. by David Shulman, The Wisdom of Poets, p. 76)

The tone of the poem above suggests that the bhakta’s bhagavat may be supremely
powerful, but he is also accessible. In bhakti literature, devotees’ relationships with their
God are familiar ones – those of child and mother, servant and master, protégé and
mentor, beloved and lover. Bhakti involves a personal relationship between a devotee and
his/her chosen deity who is aknowledged as paramount; as the source of, present in, the
goal of every created thing, the bestower of all. His personal equation with Shiva entitles
Sundaramurti to speak in a familiar way to that deity, to voice his annoyance, to articulate
his desperate longing. The bhakta even feels entitled to threaten his bhagavat. It almost
seems as though the god in his temple needs and longs for his devotee, that Shiva too has
to keep his part of the bargain to retain a bhakta’s bhakti.
4
Paccilacciramam is a sacred site associated with Shiva. (If there are boxes and not footnotes, this could
be put into the third box. The first sentence of the third box would then be: Arur, Nakaikkaronam
and Paccilacciramam are sacred places associated with Shiva.)

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II: Early bhakti movements in the Tamil south

Thus far we have treated bhakti as a type of religiosity, but we often come across the
expression ‘bhakti movements’ – these were the popular movements through which
bhakti religion spread. The cults of the worship of Shiva and Vishnu which arose and
flourished in the Tamil south between the fifth and ninth centuries A.D. may be regarded
as the cults that ushered in a long period of bhakti movements. The idea of bhakti in the
sense of devotion to a personal god is present in the Bhagavadgita, and that text predates
the Tamil bhakti cults by a few centuries. But the relationship between the deity and his
devotee in the Bhagavadgita is very different from the much more emotional bhakti of
the cults which appeared in the mid-first millennium A.D. – the latter sort of bhakti was a
new development. Even though Krishna and Arjuna are related to each other and are
good friends in the Mahabharata, it is mostly Krishna who speaks to Arjuna in the
Bhagavadgita – he speaks as supreme God and all-knowing guru. Arjuna listens, his
attitude is one of subservience. On the other hand, in the poems of Basavanna,
Nammalvar and Sundaramurti, it is the devotee who expresses his emotions, articulates
what he desires. A.K. Ramanujan puts it succinctly: ‘The emphasis has shifted from
hearing to speaking, from watching to dancing, from a passive to an active mode….’

Nammalvar was an Alvar, a Tamil Vaishnava poet-saint. Sundaramurti was a Nayanar or

a Shaiva poet-saint. (Around seventy-five saints have been listed for the period between
the fifth and ninth centuries in the Tamil south – sixty-three are traditionally counted for
Shaivism, and twelve for Vaishnavism.) The hymns of the Nayanars and Alvars are not
only the oldest available literary expressions of emotional bhakti, they are also the
earliest extant Hindu religious literature to be composed in a language other than Sanskrit
– in the vernacular. By the time of the rise of Tamil bhakti, Vedic sacrifice, the Vedic
textual corpus, Epic and early Puranic mythologies and the veneration of brahmanas as
specialists in the sacred -- in short, the Sanskritic Great Tradition -- had become part of
Tamil religion and culture. Buddhism and Jainism had also come to the south and were
flourishing in the Tamil region. These two religious streams – the orthodox and the

61
heterodox – as well as the more indigenous conceptions of love and heroism found in
Sangam poetry met, meshed and were transformed in the shaping of Tamil bhakti
literature. You already know something about the two religious streams mentioned
above, but a few elementary remarks about Sangam poetry might be useful. Sangam
means ‘an academy or fraternity’, and this term is applied to a school of writers. The
poetry they produced is classified into two kinds: aham and puram. Aham means ‘inner
part’ and puram, ‘outer part’. Aham poems are love poems; puram poems are other sorts
of poems, such as those about the glory, generosity and military prowess of heroes – they
form part of the ‘heroic’ literature of the ancient Tamils.

An example will suggest how Tamil bhakti literature is indebted to all three currents.The
naughty playboy Krishna, whom we encounter in the Harivamsha, appears in a number
of Tamil bhakti poems. In expressing the relationship between that god and his devotees,
Vaishnava poet-saints drew on Sangam love poetry for the idiom of lover and beloved. A
comparison between an aham poem and one of Nammalvar’s poems will make this point
clear. Here is an aham poem:

What Her Girl-friend Said

These fat konrai trees

are gullible:

the season of rains

that he spoke of
when he went through the stones
of the desert
is not yet here

though these trees

62
 mistaking the untimely rains
have put out
their long arrangements of flowers
on the twigs

as if for a proper monsoon.

(trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning, p. 158)

Now for Nammalvar’s poem:

What Her Girl-friend said

They haven’t flowered yet,

the fat konrai trees,
nor hung out their garlands
and golden circlets
in their sensual canopy of leaves
along the branches,

dear girl,
dear as the paradise of our lord
who measured the earth
girdled by the restless sea:

they are waiting

with buds
for the return
of your lover
once twined in your arms.

63
 ( trans. by A.K. Ramanujan, Hymns for the Drowning, pp. 158-59)

In the aham poem, the trees have started flowering but the beloved is awaiting her lover’s
return. In Nammalvar’s poem, the trees are waiting for the rain, and the beloved for her
lover. Vishnu as Vamana ‘who measured the earth’ is fleetingly mentioned in the second
verse of Nammalvar’s poem. Just as his paradise is dear to Vishnu, so too is his beloved –
the Alvar, it seems, is a favourite dwelling place. We may also note that in some of
Nammalvar’s poems, including one that we have quoted in Section I of this Lesson,
Vishnu as Krishna is the lover, dark as the raincloud. So, now the rain too takes on new
meanings. But the continuities with and borrowings from the aham tradition – the
flowering trees, the rain, the beloved anxiously awaiting her lover, the use of the female
voice and of Tamil – must also be noted.

You may recall that the Buddhists and Jainas used the vernacular. (This should have
been dealt with in Block 2.) In this respect, the Nayanars and Alvars were like them.
Sanskrit had pan-Indian prestige; it was the language of the Hindu religious texts; it had
come to be increasingly used in philosophy, law and court literature. It was the ‘perfected
language’ used by the cultured. However, it was Tamil that the Vaishnava and Shaiva
saints chose to compose their hymns in. This language too had a full-fledged literary
tradition. It also had oral and folk traditions. In short, it was used not just by the literati
but also by ordinary people. This made Tamil a more suitable vehicle than Sanskrit for
popular religious compositions.

Indeed, bhakti poets seem at times to be contrasting their language with Sanskrit. And we
can ask whether in the first of Nammalvar’s poems we have quoted in Section I,
‘mumbling and prattling the many names of our lord' is, in fact, being compared with,
and preferred to, the careful memorization and pronunciation of Sanskrit mantras. We
can argue that there was a shift not just from Sanskrit to Tamil, but a shift from a religion
of the few to a religion of the many. Anyone at all – brahmana or shudra, man or
woman, literate or non-literate – can ‘mumble’ the names of his/her god, speak to his/her

64
chosen deity, sing, dance, leap. The following lines from two poems by Appar, a Shaiva
saint who belonged to the non-brahmana vellala or land-owning cultivator caste and
lived between A.D. 570 and 670, illustrate the anti-hierarchy spirit of Tamil bhakti.

…the leper with rotting limbs,

the outcaste, even the foul pulaiyan
who skins and eats cows,
even these men, if they are servants
of him who shelters the Ganges in his long hair [Shiva],
I worship them,
They are gods to me.

( trans. by Indira Viswanathan Peterson, Poems to Siva:

The Hymns of the Tamil Saints, Princeton: Princeton University
Press, 1989, p. 264)

And
O rogues who quote the Law Books:
Of what use are your gotra and kula [clan]
Just bow down to Marperu’s lord [Shiva] as your sole refuge.

(trans. by R. Champakalakshmi, ‘From Devotion and Dissent to

Dominance: The Bhakti of the Tamil Alvars and Nayanars’, in
R. Champakalakshmi and S. Gopal eds, Tradition, Dissent and
Ideology, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1996, p. 145)

Here we may recount the story of Tiruppanalvar (Tiruppan-Alvar) 5, a low-caste panar or

minstrel who is recognized as one of the twelve Alvars. The hagiographical tradition

5
The prefix tiru means ‘sacred, auspicious’. It may be added before the names of people (e.g.
Tiruppanalvar), places (e.g. Tiruvarur, the Arur of the first of Sundaramurti’s two poems quoted in Section
I ), texts (e.g. the Tiruvaymoli – literally, ‘holy-mouth-word’ – of Nammalvar) etc.

65
which dates from about the twelfth century has it that the brahmana priest of a Vishnu
temple once came to the riverbank to fetch water for the shrine when Tiruppanalvar was
there singing of his lord, Vishnu. The priest found Tiruppanalvar in his path and threw a
stone at him to drive him away. When that brahmana offered the water he had brought
from the river to Vishnu, the god’s image seemed unaccepting. The priest then had a
vision in which Vishnu commanded him to lift the low-caste devotee onto his shoulders
and carry him into the temple. And that, Vishnu had said, must be done publicly. On
waking from his reverie, the priest went off to do what he had been instructed to.
Tiruppanalvar hesitated at first – he kept his distance from the brahmana, as a low-caste
man was expected to; but was finally persuaded by the priest to go along with Vishnu’s
command. In the shrine, Vishnu appeared in all his splendour to Tiruppanalvar who
merged with the blaze that was the god before everyone’s eyes.

Tiruppanalvar’s tale suggests that the relationship between bhaktas and the brahmana
temple establishment could be a tense one. This tension is not resolved by the downright
rejection of caste. The superiority claimed by orthodox brahmanas is never categorically
denied. One may recall that Tiruppanalvar shrank from the touch of the high-caste priest
to begin with; when confronted with a brahmana, he behaved as a low-caste man was
expected to. Tiruppanalvar did not presume that he could go into the temple on his own
to have the darshana of Vishnu’s image. We do not find him complaining about the
oppression of caste society. Indeed, protest against the caste hierarchy was seldom
articulated clearly in the literature of the Alvars and Nayanars. At most, one finds the sort
of lines we quoted from two of Appar’s poems.

But the tension between bhaktas and the brahmana temple establishment IS resolved in
Tamil bhakti literature. It is resolved by making it clear that unswerving bhakti to one’s
chosen god overrides all other markers of identity and is the supreme criterion for
respect. In Tiruppanalvar’s story, Vishnu himself ensures that the proud temple priest is

66
humbled, and that the bhakta is brought into his presence. The devotee merges into his
god, so that the low-caste bard is worshipped whenever Vishnu’s image is.6

In short, we can certainly discern an element of protest against orthodox religious

attitudes. It is also possible to discern a hint of solidarity among devotees when, for
instance, Appar claims to revere all Shiva-bhaktas, ‘even the foul pulaiyan’; or when
Mathurakavi – a ninth-century brahmana Alvar – declares that he accepts only the
vellala Nammalvar (and not a brahmana) as his lord/teacher. And the Alvars and
Nayanars are said to have sung their hymns to Vishnu and Shiva before large crowds of
bhaktas. Singing of a bhakti god provided an occasion for people to gather, and for the
beginnings of the formation of devotional communities that cut across the caste and
gender hierarchies of orthodox Hinduism.

But an examination of the caste background of the Alvars and Nayanars also tells us
something about the nature of the ‘movement’. A.K. Ramanujan has written that among
the Vaishnava and Shaiva saints, approximately seventy per cent were brahmana and
kshatriya men, and around twenty per cent were vellalas. The likes of Tiruppanalvar
were clearly exceptions. Additionally, some high-caste saints cherished and celebrated
their origins. The Shaiva poet-saint Sambandar, for instance, describes himself as a
brahmana of the Kaundinya gotra, well-versed in the four Vedas. One may also note that
the hagiographies, in which the stories of the Alvars’ and Nayanars’ lives are recounted,
postdate the saints by a couple of centuries. Might these accounts represent a conscious
attempt to provide a low-caste background to some saints and to create the impression of
religious/social revolt in a time past? It is also important to remember that those who
composed the hagiographies and collected bhakti hymns were from the upper strata of
society. Ramanujan sums up the situation succinctly: ‘it was not just a movement by the

6
We can also note that the woman saint Andal is believed to have been accepted by Vishnu as his consort
at Shrirangam. She burst the shackles of being a woman. Her struggle was against family values: she did
not marry a mortal and take on conventional wifely and maternal roles. Instead, she is said to have attained
union with Vishnu. We are told that she disappeared on entering the sanctum sanctorum of the Ranganatha
temple at Shrirangam. She is believed to have merged with her chosen deity, her first and only love.

67
lowly, for the lowly’; it cannot be visualized as ‘a mass movement of the lower classes
against the upper, a Marxist movement before Marx was thought of ’.

The image and temple of Vishnu feature prominently in the stories of Tiruppanalvar and
Andal. We have also noted the importance given to shrines and sacred places in the
poems of Sundaramurti. Some later bhakti movements protested against or detached
themselves from image and temple worship. But these were important features of early
Tamil bhakti, and the Vaishnava and Shaiva cults were closely associated with the
Agamas – texts that treat ritual, iconography and other subjects related to image and
temple worship. The Alvars and Nayanars wandered all over the Tamil land, singing of a
hundred and eight holy places of Vishnu and two hundred and seventy four abodes of
Shiva. One can, in fact, say that they sang many of these places into prominence. The
saints mapped and unified the many shrines and spaces associated with their chosen god
through a network of pilgrimages and hymns – they created a Vaishnava and Shaiva
‘sacred geography’ for the Tamil region.

From the Silapaddikaram and Manimekalai, the post-Sangam Tamil epics, we know that
the Tamil south had abundant and varied religious traditions. Buddhism and Jainism
seem to have attracted the support of the politically powerful for a couple of centuries till
the reign of the Pallava ruler Mahendravarman I (A.D. 580-630). According to tradition,
that king too was a Jaina until the saint Appar converted him to Shaivism. 7 The Pallava
successors of Mahendravarman I and the Cholas who consolidated their power in the
7
Indeed, a critique of Buddhism and Jainism is an important theme of the hymns of the Alvars and
Nayanars. We often find lines such as the following which reject the Jaina way of life and the Jainas’ belief
in self-mortification as a means of attaining salvation:

But we know only from hearsay that person X at such and such a time obtained exactly this
[moksa], by eating rotten fruit and dry leaves, by torturing his body… by exposing himself to the
heat of the sun…. We shall not correct such people with small stupid minds who say these things
without being able to prove them.
(Tirumankai Alvar, trans. by Friedhelm Hardy, Viraha Bhakti, p.389)

68
tenth century were great patrons of the bhakti cults. The Cholas, in particular, favoured
Shaivism and gave it royal support. The Pallavas pioneered the building of temples in
stone. Chola kings enlarged extant shrines and had impressive new temples constructed,
particularly in the places visited by the Nayanars. Vaishnava and Shaiva hymns were
collected under royal initiative. The Cholas also perpetuated the institution, begun by the
Pallavas, of employing singers to sing the hymns of the poet-saints during worship in
temples.

Because they were thought to be the beloved abodes of Vishnu and Shiva, and because
they were actively projected as such by Pallava and Chola rulers, the temple and temple
town became (and, indeed, continue to be) centres where pilgrim-devotees gathered to
sing of their lord, to celebrate his great festivals, to perform his ritual worship, to have his
darshana. We get the impression of growing Vaishnava and Shaiva communities whose
members were united by their devotion to their god and his shrines. However, we must
also remember that the major temples followed the Agamic mode of worship with its
attendant rituals. Brahmanas alone could be priests here. Despite the fact that anyone at
all -- brahmana or outcaste, man or woman -- could mumble the names of his/her lord,
sing weeping with emotion, dance ecstatically, in short, express devotional feelings in
spontaneous unstructured ways; early Tamil bhakti had its formal, excluding dimensions
too. Whatever Appar may have said, most ‘foul pulaiyan[s]’, however devout, would not
have been able to have the darshana of their chosen deity, offer flowers or incense or
unguents to his image in such temples.

III: Beyond early Tamil bhakti: Some examples from the Virashaiva tradition

Yet, bhakti hymns tell us of the conversion to ‘true religion’ of kings who had been seduced by the ‘false
doctrines’ of the Buddhists and Jainas.

69
We will not attempt to discuss, even briefly, every major bhakti movement which
followed that of the Alvars and Nayanars. Instead, we shall take up some aspects of one
movement – that of the Virashaivas, literally, ‘militant Shaivas’. We will draw attention
to a couple of features of the Virashaiva movement that suggest continuities with the
bhakti of the Nayanars and Alvars and then highlight a few differences. This sort of
exercise clearly suggests that the bhakti of the Nayanars and Alvars is one sort of bhakti,
that of the Virashaivas is another, a different kind; and that the expression ‘bhakti
movements’ encompasses a range of beliefs, practices, texts etc. But first, a little about
the founder of the Virashaiva movement.

Basavanna is regarded as the founder of the Virashaiva movement. He was born in A.D.
1106 in a Kannada Shaiva brahmana family. As he grew up, he increasingly found the
ritualistic Shiva-bhakti of his home pointless and shackling. It is said that he discarded
his sacred thread at the age of sixteen, left home and travelled to Kudalasangama, a
pilgrim centre with a major temple to Shiva Kudalasangameshvara, ‘lord of the meeting
rivers’. This ‘lord of the meeting rivers’ became Basavanna’s chosen deity; every
vachana (literally, ‘saying’) Basavanna composed has that god’s name in it. It is believed
that Basavanna worshipped the linga in the temple at Kudalasangama till Shiva himself
appeared to him – first in his dreams, and then, in the form of a tiny linga that found its
way into Basavanna’s hand. In the latter form, Shiva stayed with his bhakta. Basavanna
was now free of sacred places, temples and lingas housed in shrines; he had his own
personal linga. (One can note that the Virashaivas are also known as the Lingayatas,
‘those who wear the linga’. Orthodox Lingayatas wear a small stone linga in a silver
casket around their necks. It is this, rather than a linga in a temple, that is their main
object of worship. Its constant wearing symbolizes their chosen god’s near presence, and
the worship of one’s personal linga suggests that no intermediary is required between
Shiva and his devotees.)

To continue Basavanna’s story: After having been initiated by Shiva himself, Basavanna
left Kudalasangama and took up service at the court of King Bijjala in Kalyana. As he
rose in the administrative hierarchy, his devotion to the ‘lord of the meeting rivers’ also

70
matured. Apparently he made use of his influential position at Bijjala’s court to win
converts for his brand of Shaivism. A community of Shiva-bhaktas grew around
Basavanna. They opposed image and temple worship, upheld the equality of the sexes
and rejected caste distinctions. Not surprisingly, there was fierce opposition to this group.
The Virashaivas’ opponents also managed to win Bijjala over to their side.

It is said that events took a violent turn when a marriage took place between two of
Basavanna’s followers from two extremes of the social hierarchy. The bride was a former
brahmana (former, because caste distinctions were disregarded in the Virashaiva
community) and the groom was an ex-outcaste. This marriage was, in no uncertain terms,
a challenge to caste-based society with its detailed rules on who could and could not
marry whom, a society in which a marriage between a brahmana woman and an outcaste
man was not to be thought of. The king, as the upholder of order, sentenced the arrangers
of the marriage – the fathers of the couple – to death. Armed rebellion by at least some of
Basavanna’s followers ensued. Basavanna himself died during the turmoil in A.D.
1167/68. The Virashaivas were persecuted for some time but survived to become a
dominant community in some parts of Karnataka in recent times.

This outline of Basavanna’s life suggests some similarities with the bhakti of the Tamil
saints who predated him, as also some differences. It is this theme – of continuity and
dissimilarity – that we will now explore briefly by citing a few examples.

Like the Nayanars, Basavanna was a Shaiva, so were his followers; and the Virashaiva
saints named the sixty-three Nayanars among their forebears. Like the Nayanars and
Alvars, the Virashaiva saints composed their poems in the language of their region, not in
pan-Indian Sanskrit. A.K. Ramanujan writes of the compositions of both the Tamil and
Virashaiva saints thus:
‘one hears a new kind of utterance that cannot be adequately described by earlier terms
such as “heard, revealed” (sruti) or “remembered” (smrti)….For, as the terms suggest,
they by now represent the passive, receptive modes. Bhaktas prefer the active mode.

71
Nammalvar’s text is called Tiru-vay-moli, “holy-mouth-word”…the Kannada-speaking
Virasaivas called their poems vacanas or “sayings”. The emphasis has shifted from
hearing to speaking… from a religion and a poetry of the esoteric few to a religion and a
poetry of anyone who can speak.’ Like the Nayanars and Alvars, the Virashaiva saints
expressed their bhakti in terms of personal relationships – those of mother and child,
lover and beloved etc. Basavanna's poem ‘As a mother runs...and looks after me’, quoted
in Section I, illustrates this. The mother-child relationship is one that everybody –
brahmana or outcaste, man or woman – is familiar with and can speak about.

In fact, the poems of the Virashaiva saints are even more personal than those of the
Alvars and Nayanars. In discussing Nammalvar’s poem ‘What Her Girl Friend Said….’
in Section II, we had drawn attention to that poet’s borrowings from the aham tradition.
We had noted Nammalvar’s use of a persona – Nammalvar speaks not as himself but as a
friend of the beloved waiting for her lover/god. In contrast, the Virashaiva saints always
speak as themselves, never indirectly through a persona. You will also recall that two
conceptions of worship are compared in Basavanna’s poem ‘The rich/ will make temples
for Siva….’ While a poor bhakta offers himself/herself to god, a wealthy devotee erects
temples in the image of the human body. Additionally, the rich do not raise temples by
themselves: they pay for their construction, it is actually others who build them. One is
left in no doubt about which one Basavanna perceives as the more direct relationship with
god.

Indeed, in their vachanas, Virashaiva saints protested against many sorts of

intermediaries – priests, rituals and temples, for instance. They rejected the established
social hierarchy which excludes so many from direct access to things considered sacred –
the Vedas or the image of god in a temple, for example. Their vachanas tell us that true
experience of god, anubhaava, comes unconditionally – it is not dependent on being born
a brahmana rather than a outcaste, or a man rather than a woman; making offerings to
stone images, temple-going, journeying to places like Banaras cannot guarantee it. It
comes without warning, one can only wait for it, be prepared for the experience when it
comes.

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All this said, what began as a critique of the status quo was absorbed, in great measure,
bit by bit, into the sponge-like body of Puranic religion. In fact, Basavanna himself
inaugurated what is in effect a priesthood, the jangamas (‘lingas in motion’ or wandering
mendicants). Each Lingayata has his/her hereditary guru from among the jangamas who
are organized around a number of mathas (teaching institutions). Ceremonies such as
those performed at the birth of a child, its naming, marriage and death require the
presence of a jangama. And most Lingayata life-cycle rituals include worship of the
officiating jangama's feet. But we can conclude by emphasizing that Basavanna and his
followers did leave a legacy of questioning established convention. They left behind
verses of great beauty, intensity and depth; poetry that is both mystical and radical.

[PART B]: TANTRISM

Tantrism has influenced varied religious traditions in Asia from at least the middle of the
first millennium A.D. It has been practised in Bhutan, Burma, Cambodia, China, India,
Indonesia, Japan, Korea, Mongolia, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka and Tibet. Tantrism
invariably involves a set of techniques for worshipping the divine, and these can be
appropriated by any form of religious practice. So, aspects of both Hinduism and
Buddhism, for instance, have been coloured by Tantrism. And, within Hinduism,
Vaishnavism, Shaivism and Shaktism have all had Tantric components. Here, we shall
draw attention to some general features of Tantrism, citing examples from the Hindu
Tantric traditions.

The Tantras (which, as we noted in Lesson II, are texts) are generally presented as
dialogues, often between Shiva as teacher and his consort (shakti) as student. This fits in
with the crucial role of the guru in Tantrism. Submission to a teacher is not, of course,
only a feature of Tantrism – the bhakti tradition, for instance, also regards the preceptor
as important. But, in Tantrism, a guru is absolutely essential, and the first requirement is

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initiation by the teacher, during which a mantra is communicated to the pupil. A basic
mantra is a single syllable, commonly ending in a nasal ‘m’ – ‘hrim’ or ‘klim’, for
example. More complex mantras are built up from a series of such syllables. A mantra is
believed to be a nucleus of cosmic energy, and it is thought that this energy is released
when a mantra is uttered correctly. The uttering of mantras is generally accompanied by
mudras (symbolic gestures). Indeed, it is felt that mantras unleash their power fully only
if they are supplemented with appropriate gestures.

Related to mantra is yantra. The function of yantra in the visual sphere is analogous to
mantra in the sphere of sound. A yantra is a diagram, usually consisting of an outer
square perimeter with ‘entrances’, the perimeter enclosing a design of concentric circles
and triangles (some inverted) and arcs resembling the petals of a lotus. Everything
converges on a centre point. (Could you possibly put in a drawing of the Shri
Yantra?) For the sadhaka (person committed to spiritual effort), meditation on a yantra
is a means of comprehending cosmic power, of identification with the energy of the
divine. By entering (mentally or physically) through one of the perimeter doors, the
sadhaka projects himself/herself into sacred space. It is believed that the sadhaka
progressively unites his/her person with various aspects of the yantra and the divine. The
experience of identity culminates in the centre point of the yantra, which represents the
essence of divine power. From the sadhaka’s perspective, this is the point of final
dissolution of the boundaries between the mundane and the supramundane. But if one
moves outwards from the centre, the perspective is different – one can discern the
splitting of the divine essence into male and female. In the Shri Yantra, for instance, these
are the visible dot and the smallest downward pointing triangle respectively. (You will
recall that in Tantrism the divine is visualized as formed of the union of the male and
female principles.)

In Lesson II we had noted that Tantrism involves a set of techniques that use the human
body. It is believed that the sadhaka can gain all manner of powers, even control over the
path to liberation, after mentally ‘installing’ the features of the divine at various places in
and around his/her person. It is thought that there are homologies between the microcosm

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(the human body) and the macrocosm (the world beyond). Through his/her acts and
efforts, the sadhaka can tap homologies, and acquire their underlying energy. The
sadhaka can make the macrocosm dissolve within his/her body, and merge with the
divine.

An important aim of Tantrism is to make the kundalini (‘coiled’, dormant, limited

energy) merge with the cosmic, transcendent shakti. The kundalini is conceived as a
snake lying asleep at the base of the spine. Here, she represents the restricted powers of
the individual. The sadhaka can awaken the kundalini through breathing and other
exercises. She rises through a vein in the spine to reach ‘the thousand petalled lotus’
(sahasrara) at the top of the skull, where she merges with the unlimited shakti residing
there in perpetual union with Shiva. To begin with, the kundalini ascends alongside the
channels Pingala and Ida which are on either side of the vein through which she rises.
Pingala and Ida are connected with the polarities of sun and moon, life and death, Agni
and Soma. The notion of opposites runs through much of Tantric thought, and is perhaps
most often expressed in the polarity of male and female, Shiva and shakti. And one must
remember that these opposites are encompassed by the divine – the divine is complete,
omnipresent. To get back to the kundalini, it is believed that as she rises up, the world
gradually dissolves for the sadhaka, and in the final stage he/she passes beyond the body
to the merging of the individual self with cosmic energy.

We can end by commenting briefly on the relationship between brahmanical orthodoxy

and Tantrism. In Lesson II, we had noted that while the Puranas initially condemned
Tantric practices, Tantric elements are very noticeable in those parts of the Puranic
corpus that date from the ninth century. Indeed, the Devibhagavata Purana tells us:

In the Puranas there are certain matters which, though derived from the
Tantras, have been regarded as dharma….If the Tantra does not go against the
Veda, it should certainly be regarded as authoritative….

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(from Kunal Chakrabarti, Religious Process: The Puranas and the Making of a Regional
Tradition, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2001, p. 193)

The Tantras too began to associate themselves with the Vedas, on occasion claiming to
be the fifth Veda. Yet, the practices of the ‘Left’ school of Tantrism continued to be
considered unacceptable by orthodox Hindus. The sadhana or spiritual discipline of the
‘Left’ school makes use of the five Ms – matsya, mamsa, mada, mudra and maithuna – to
acquire energy through ‘transgressive’ methods. For instance, a male sadhaka may enact
the union of Shiva and his shakti with a female partner. To emphasize the notion of
polarity, a high-caste man might choose a low-caste woman as his partner, highlighting
not just the male-female opposition, but also the social contrast.

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SUGGESTED READINGS FOR THIS BLOCK

1) Brockington, J.L., The Sacred Thread: A Short History of Hinduism

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2) Chakrabarti, Kunal, Religious Process: The Puranas and the Making of a Regional
Tradition

3) Chattopadhyaya, Brajadulal, ‘Introduction: The Making of Early Medieval India’, in

The Making of Early Medieval India

4) Hazra, R.C., Studies in the Puranic Records on Hindu Rites and Customs

5) Jaiswal, Suvira, The Origin and Development of Vaisnavism

6) Majumdar, R.C., ed., The History and Culture of the Indian People, Vols III & IV

7) Ramanujan, A.K., Speaking of Siva

8) Ramanujan, A.K., Hymns for the Drowning: Poems for Visnu by Nammalvar

9) Sharma, R.S., ‘Material Milieu of Tantricism’, in R.S. Sharma, ed., Indian Society:
Historical Probings (In Memory of D.D. Kosambi)

10) Sukthankar, V.S., On the Meaning of the Mahabharata

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