Showing posts with label Krishna. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Krishna. Show all posts

Friday, August 10, 2012

Magical Madness!

Magical Madness - that's the only way to describe these past some days. After launching Govinda: Book 1 of the Aryavarta Chronicles in both Delhi and Bangalore (and feasting on some great food in the process - details of the road trip to follow) its back to reality, the computer, and Book 2 - though an air of excitement still remains.




For one, Govinda has made it to the Asian Age's top ten bestsellers lists (and I'm personally uber-kicked to be in the company of Jeet Thayil and "Narcopolis")


The Asian Age has also carried an interview, in which I manage to sound (IMHO) not very dorky, so that went well.


More stuff is sent to happen over the next couple of weeks - am doing my first Singapore reading tomorrow (the 11th of August) at Select Books on Armenian Street. I will be part on an exciting line-up that includes Vincent Clay, Stephanie Ye, and Heng Siok Tan.




Also, The Aryavarta Chronicles now has its own Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/thearyavartachronicles

Note also the new website: www.aryavartachronicles.com

No wonder I'm still reeling :-)



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Wednesday, June 27, 2012

Govinda - Book Cover

And here it is: The final cover... Also watch out for the poster in bookstores soon!
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Thursday, May 31, 2012

Straits Times Article - and a sneak peek at the cover of "Govinda"

Things reach a feverish high with endless proofreading, tweaking and edits, amidst that ever-present sense of irrevocability that is publication. To press, very soon, and then... In the meantime, The Straits Times, Singapore's leading national paper features the Aryavarta Chronicles (and me). Also part of the article is a pic of the final cover of "Govinda" - showing the city on sea in the background and Govinda's sword in the foreground. 'Nuff said - The article follows
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Sunday, June 19, 2011

The Aryavarta Chronicles - Soon to be published by Hachette India!

So here it is, finally - Am happy to share with everyone that Hachette India will be publishing 'Govinda' - book 1 of The Aryavarta Chronicles in early 2012! Books 2 and 3 - 'Firewright' and 'The Cowherd Prince' will follow later the same year.

Hachette, as many readers are no doubt familiar, is one of the world largest publishers of books - Needless to say, I'm terribly excited at the prospect of having my books under their banner. All thanks and credit to Jayapriya Vasudevan and Priya Doraswamy of Jacaranda - my literary agents, and  dear friends! Incessant thanks also to my family, and to the dear friends and mentors who've stood by me from crazy idea to incomprehensible draft, and of course, the final books.

I hope to share more on the progress of the book, as it goes through the editing, publishing and marketing process, and of course, as I continue to work on Book 3 and beyond. For now though, I invite you all to be a part of my excitement at beginning the next stage of this journey... into Aryavarta.
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Friday, April 22, 2011

The Age of Revolution

Subtle, but momentous events have taken place in the world around us, since my last post here.

I remember cheering madly, as India lifted the Cricket World Cup, and in my naiveté, I considered myself a part of history in the making. Till but a few days later, seemingly out of nowhere, Anna Hazare cropped up on everyone’s radar. Slowly, but steadily, the facebook and e-campaigns by India against Corruption and Avaaz.org drew more supporters. This, however, was no surprise – we had all seen what purpose technology could serve but weeks ago in Egypt and Tunisia.

What remained unstated, but perhaps a lot more pervasive than more Indians would care to admit, was the sense of doubt, and reluctance. At the end of the day, revolution lies, not in technology, but in the hearts and minds of people. And apathetic, resigned people, who believe it futile to stand against the status quo cannot breed revolution.

Perhaps I should qualify the statement, at this point.
 
It would a disservice to club what essentially are two distinct categories of individuals – the apathetic, and the resigned. The distinction? As I see it, apathy implies a knowledgeable, even righteous, disregard. Resigned, on the other hand, involves a greater degree of emotional involvement, and a sense that all is not well.

In terms of the Chronicles of Aryavarta and their Epic characters, it is perhaps the distinction between Dharma Yudhistir and Partha Arjuna. Yudhistir believes in the virtue of his approach, even though it may lead him to his doom – an argument he presents in favour of going ahead with the infamous game of dice. He believes in a divinely ordained destiny and in the sheer impossibility of dissent. He is apathetic, not perhaps in the malevolent sense of not caring, but something worse – an irrational, dogmatic sense of status quo, which results in his disregard for realities around him. It is a trait that is at once, both infuriating, and yet compels a certain sense of pity.

Partha on the other is resigned to living with the status quo, a sense that comes not from believing that dissent is impermissible, or even impossible but simply, that it is futile. The system he fights against is far too powerful and he thinks he is bound to fail. It does not stop him from feeling sad, even angry, at things he believes to be wrong. But it does stop him from acting on those feelings, from doing.

It may be a state of confusion that many of us understand only too well, whether we would admit it or not – that sense of grief and outrage at a world going wrong around us, but the equally debilitating sense of being small, insignificant, and thoroughly incapable of doing anything about it.

And then began the Jan Lokpal movement.

Let me clarify again. It does not, and did not surprise me in the least that we still have revolutionaries in our midst, men and women who believe they can still make a difference, or die trying. What did touch me though was how thousands went from resignation and rage, to hope. How no part was too small to play, be it but the almost-reflexive clicking of a ‘like’ button. Slowly, something changed – beyond the sense of Partha-like resignation, the fear that powers that be would reduce the entire campaign to mere ineffective posturing, a sense of hope seemed to shine through. It wwas a collective sense of wanting to try, without fearing failure or anticipating success, a sense of peaceful, almost cheerful effort, sans rage and resentment.

It seems for a moment like dispassion, except, it is so filled with the opposite. And then I realise the obvious - Perhaps the resignation was more my own, than anyone else. It is I who’ve been filled with hope. Like Partha on the eve of the battle, is I who was touched by the spirit of revolution and renewal. The spirit of Govinda. In the words of that revolutionary:

“... the greatest force in the universe is, Time. It’s greater than every probability, every wager, and beyond the comprehension of skill. It’s inevitable, because it’s inexorable. So it is with everything. In every age, there will be a Govinda; perhaps many Govindas…”

- Firewright: The Aryavarta Chronicles II
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Saturday, March 26, 2011

Firewright: Book Two of the Aryavarta Chronicles

Āryavarta - the Realm of the Noble. An Empire of Divine Order, where Gods and Kings walk side by side. The distinction between scientists and magicians is blurred; and few understand that scholar-sages, men and women of learning, are more than just the oracles of the Gods.

Far more.

For generations the Firstborn Dynasty of scholar-sages, descended from Vasishta Varuni, the eldest of Brahma the Creator’s sons, has dominated the Empire of Aryavarta. For just as long, the Angirasa family of Firewrights, weapon-makers to the Kings, have defied them. In the aftermath of their conflict, the Empire lies splintered into many tiny kingdoms, plagued by political intrigue and held together by fragile alliances.

One man dared to bring them together, to forge a new Empire and new destiny.

He failed.


Now, as Aryavarta hurtles inevitably towards a Great War, the greatest battle yet will be fought by one man - Govinda Shauri, Commander of the Armies of Dwaraka – for he must now face the darkness hidden within the very human soul to find the true meaning of being Arya. Of being noble.
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Friday, February 25, 2011

Sanskrit Word of the Week (WoW)


Jayeti (jeh-yeah-ti): An exclamation of victory, also used as a motivating war-cry.

Usage:

As one, the army began roaring out, ‘Jayeti! Jayeti! Victory to us!’

(Govinda Ch. 76)
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Sunday, January 23, 2011

Happy 2011, and a Quick Update

Happy New Year 2011 to all. Beginning the New Year with a quick update: 

'Govinda' is currently being seriously read by a couple of publishers (too soon to name names, though), and I hope to have some news to share on its status, soon. As for TCP, it is at that wonderfully enjoyable stage of re-research: the quest for hidden meaning within the obvious. I've also started work on a shorter piece that is not part of The Aryavarta Chronicles, but is set in Aryavarta nevertheless. (Do I hear guesses on what it is about?)

Here's to a year filled with the magic of words!
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Tuesday, November 16, 2010

Sanskrit Word of the Week (WoW)

Karagraahin. (kah-reh-graa-hin): Tax collector(s).


Usage:

'... it's not the vassals' apathy or incompetence alone that has these people clamouring here; but also the Kingdom's taxation policies. Over the many years the karagraahin, with their unfettered powers, have reduced the nation to this! How can the people grow crops and pay taxes if we won't even leave them with enough grain to use as seed?'


(The Cowherd Prince, Ch. 4)
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Friday, October 29, 2010

Govinda - Book Extract

And here it is!!! - An extract from 'Ch. 5 of 'Govinda'.

"Govinda left Dwaraka before dawn, heading due east. His silver-white Qamboja stallion, Balahak, blazed through the mist-covered fields like a ghost, and by the time the sun came up, they were a good distance from the city.

They pushed on, crossing the Raivata Mountains, and then turning to ride northwards, alongside the River Charmanvati. Around noon, they sought refuge from the burning sun in a shady glen, but were back on the road before long. They stopped again in the evening, when Govinda caught a little sleep. A little after moonrise, the two set off, galloping over silver-blue plains as a wild happiness took them.

At their current pace, Govinda was three days journey from his destination in Central Aryavarta. Balahak, named for his strong legs, would make short work of the leagues that took the common war-horse nearly a week and a pack-horse, much longer. The horse's speed, coupled with his exceptional skill with his beloved steeds, made Govinda one of the fastest riders in Aryavarta; and when he yoked all four of his temperamental silver-white stallions to a chariot, few could keep up with them.

In the misty darkness before the second dawn of his journey, the warrior realised he was being followed. Even before he saw or heard the riders behind him, he sensed them. Closing his eyes, he focussed on the faint hoof beats. Three riders, he concluded, grinning as he guessed who they were. Slowing down, he whispered some calming words to his own steed, and then let out a slow, long-drawn whistle. It rose in a reedy, quavering note before he cut it off short. Within moments, he heard the horses behind him rear loudly.

Govinda stopped and wheeling his horse around; waited.

'Watch out!' a familiar voice cried through the mist, and another protested, 'I am, I am!'

‘Mih!’

‘You oaf. Oww!'

'No! Not that way! That's me, you cross-eyed idiot! Look out!'

'Steady, steadyyyy! Dumb horse!'

'Stop butting me, Muhira! You fool! Arrgh.'

'Oh Rudra!'

'Oi! Oi! Ohhhhhh…'

The sounds of neighing, jostling, and human expostulation reached Govinda, followed by a deep, rich laugh. One of the pursuers seemed to have fallen off, for a distinctly riderless horse came out of the mist at a light canter. It trotted up to Balahak with the relief of familiarity, and the two horses nuzzled noses in greeting. Govinda reached out to stroke the newcomer, a brown stallion with white markings on its forehead.

'Are you hurt?' a young voice whispered loudly.

'No, I'm dancing with the Nymphs of Heaven, you imbecile. Help me up!'

'You think he heard us?'

'Vathu! Hush, you lout!’

'Of course he heard us,' a third voice said, even as the speaker burst into more laughter at whatever antics were going on in the mist.

Unable to resist any longer, Govinda slowly guided his horse back along the path, the brown stallion following alongside. He could not help but guffaw uproariously at the scene that greeted him.

On the ground, his feet still tangled up in a mess of stirrups and reins, lay Govinda's young cousin and adopted heir, Pradymna. Standing over the youth, unsuccessfully trying to unravel the tangle, was the dark-skinned Samva, the second of Govinda's adopted sons.

'Ack! Not that way, you idiot; you're trying to kill me, you are!' Pradymna shrieked, as Samva tried to help the struggling youth out of the jumble he was caught in.

'I'd do a better job of killing you, if only you shut your troublesome mouth!' his brother expostulated.
Both young men suddenly noticed Govinda, and fell into silent sulks.

Govinda, however, took no notice of them, instead leading his horse over to the third rider, who remained confidently astride. 'Yuyudhana,' he nodded in greeting to a fashionably-dressed man of his own age.

'Cousin,' the man greeted him. 'I left as soon as I realised you weren't present at the meeting of the Council - Couldn't let you have all the fun on your own now, could I!'

Govinda said nothing, but he was far from displeased. Yuyudhana was a tested warrior, and a close friend. He trusted the man implicitly, and was glad of his company.

'Those two,' Yuyudhana continued, with a nod backwards, indicating Pradymna and Samva, 'came along at the last moment.'

'They're hot-headed and impetuous,' Govinda noted. 'Pradymna's nearly twenty-one, but still acts like an adolescent at times. And Samva...' he let the phrase hang, grinning widely.

'Oi! We're right here, you know. We can hear you,' Pradymna protested.

'Indeed, your presence might be more notable and respected if you could at least stay astride your horse!' Govinda retorted.

'Or follow the instructions of your elders,' Yuyudhana wistfully added. 'In any case….' he continued, turning to address Govinda, 'Shall we?'

'Of course,' Govinda said, and set his horse off along the path at a slow amble, Yuyudhana alongside.

'Wait! What about us?' Samva cried, leaving Pradymna behind to run after the two departing warriors.

'Next time!' Govinda cheerily said.

'If you learn to ride, by then,' Yuyudhana quipped.

'And you're any smarter,' Govinda added.

'Which, alas is….'

'Impossible?'

Laughing, the two men tugged at the reins, urging their horses into a gallop. Shouting and cursing, the two youths made to follow."

------------
Copyright Krishna Udayasankar, 2010.

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A Long Overdue Post

I begin by confessing that my lack of activity has been far from intentional – between the demands of reality (read: day-job), and the lure of working on The Cowherd Prince – I’ve had little time to post on the blog. But, as Govinda Shauri is often known to say: ‘In the scheme of the Eternal Universe, there are no coincidences.’
Such has been the unexpected honour bestowed on me during the past month’s electronic silence – I’ve been overwhelmed by the inquiries, and even the occasional scolding, that have, for the first time, shown me that Aryavarta is familiar to many more people than I had realised.

It is; I think, a credit to Mr. K.D. Vyasa, and his cast of immaculate characters – none more memorable that Govinda Shauri himself. And I see no better way to make up to those of you who messaged, emailed, called or Facebooked to ask when the book was coming out, or failing that, when the next post would be up. As thanks for all your kind wishes, I present in the next post a small extract from ‘Govinda’.

This one is especially for Ms. Priya Rao – You see, for a writer, there is perhaps nothing so wonderfully affirming or delightful, than to be asked to write.
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Monday, September 27, 2010

Mahabharata Quiz –II: Answers

Answers to the second Mahabharata Quiz - without any further ado:

Q1. Of the five sons of Pandu – the Pandava brothers – Nakul was famous as:

a) The most intelligent of the five
b) The best-looking one
c) The most cowardly of the five
d) The best singer
e) The tallest one

Answer: Nakul was known as the best-looking of the five.

Q2. Matsyagandhi is another name for which of these royal ladies:

a) Subadhra
b) Pancali
c) Kunti
d) Sudeshna
e) Satyavati

Answer: Satyavati. Apparently she smelt (rather awfully) of fish. Sage Parashara is said to have transformed this odour into a wonderfully appealing fragrance, in return for her submitting to his overtures.

Q3. Shikandin, Prince of Pancala had a son named:

a) Yuyudhana
b) Yudhamanyu
c) Yaudheya
d) Yuyutsu
e) He had no son at all

Answer: Yudhamanyu. Shikandin was married to the princess of the neighbouring Dasarna kingdom, who bore him a son. Yudhamanyu is also mentioned as fighting (rather well, in fact), during the Great Mahabharata War.

Q4. Mathura was the capital of which Kingdom during the times of the Mahabharata?

a) Kuru
b) Magadha
c) Dwaraka
d) Anartta
e) Surasena

Answer: Surasena

Q5. Who in the Mahabharata was known by the epithet ‘wolf-bellied’?

a) Bhim
b) Syoddhan (Duryodhana)
c) Dussasana
d) Bakasura
e) Narakasura

Answer: Bhim – he is also known as Vrikrodara, meaning ‘wolf-bellied’. It seems to have been an allusion to the unique combination of his ravenous appetite and his (contrary to common perception) lean frame.

Q6. What assumed name did Pancali go under, during her period of exile/hiding in the Kingdom of Matsya?

a) Sairandhari
b) Satyavati
c) Sudeshna
d) Malini
e) Mohini

Answer: Malini. While the common perception seems to be that she went by the name ‘Sairandari’, that is not a name, but a job title along the lines of ‘lady-in-waiting’ or ‘attendant’. Pancalu served as a Sairandari, under the assumed name Malini.

Q7. What is the name given to Govinda Shauri’s sword?

a) Sudharshan
b) Nanda
c) Kaumoda
d) Nandaka
e) Chakra

Answer: Nandaka. It means, strangely ‘that which brings bliss.’

Q8. Partha is often referred to in the Mahabharata by the term ‘Savyasachin’. What does this word mean?

a) Good-looking
b) Conqueror of All
c) A good friend
d) Ambidextrous
e) Someone who can shoot in the dark

Answer: Ambidextrous. Partha was equally skilled wielding his bow with either hand.

Q9. Govinda and Partha often refer to each other as ‘cousins’. This is because

a) They are descended from the same ancestor, Yayati
b) Partha’s mother is actually Govinda’s aunt
c) Govinda and Partha are brothers-in-law
d) It is a term of endearment and closeness
e) They are just being polite

Answer: Partha’s mother Pritha, is actually Govinda’s aunt. She is Govinda’s father’s sister, but was given in adoption, as an infant, to King Kuntibhoja. Hence, her patronym -Kunti.

Q10. In the Mahabharata, who kills Ekalavya?

a) Dron
b) Asvattama
c) Partha
d) Abhimanyu
e) Govinda

Answer: Govinda. The two end up in a nasty confrontation during a particular attack on Dwaraka by the combined forces of Jarasandha, Shisupala of Chedi, and Ekalavya’s Nishada forces. Of course, TP Kailasam’s moving play ‘Fulfillment’ gives Ekalavya a more poignant end – stabbed by Krishna-Govinda, but not before the two indulge in some thought-provoking dialogue.
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Thursday, September 23, 2010

Govinda - A Museum Visit

The Chattrapathi Shivaji Maharaj Vastu Sangralaya (formerly known as the Prince of Wales Museum), Mumbai has many fascinating contents, but none more exciting for me, than the Krishna Gallery.

The best part of my recent trip to the Museum (egotistically speaking) was finding affirmation for the many research calls I had taken during the writing of Govinda!

Here's a small photo documentation of some of the most interesting facts and artefacts that I came across during my last visit (August 2010).

The first of these delights was this map, alongside. (Click on map to enlarge). Look familiar?



Also check out these coins from Magadha and Kashi, dating to the Epic Ages. (Left. Click to enlarge).

Note the solar symbols on the coins. The minor variations suggest that these may be Imperial currency, issued under Magadhan Dominion, but somewhat customised or different based on the actual kingdoms of the Aryavarta Empire that they were issued in.


The Krishna Gallery, a distinct exhibit with the Museum, is both a historical and artistic exhibit in one. It contained many different representations, from the diverse regional cultures of the Indian sub-continent; arranged chronologically to form the narrative of Krishna's story, as is commonly (and uncommonly) known. Both canon and popular versions found their place here, and there was just so much to be seen and admired.


The Dancing Krishna shown to the right here, is from Nepal.

The jewellery is disctinctive and typical of the region, but what is refreshing is the absence of the usual paraphernelia associated with Krishna-Govinda - His flute, the discus or other weapons, or one of his Gopis or consorts.



The familiar Bhagavad Gita scene below is made of rosewood, teakwood and ivory. (Click to enlarge).





Unfortunately, the amateurish photo does little to showcase the exquisite and intricate carving; but a close look at the bow and arrow thrown down (in the foreground), at the chariot-wheels, and of course, the figure of Krishna himself still takes the breath away!













As for my historical research, the photo alongside says it all. (Click to enlarge).

Note the picture of the Heliodorus pillar on the extreme left of the picture.


 



In conclusion, I present the compellingly cheerful image below. The semi-rustic Madhubani painting is of a recent make, and not ancient at all. But it is timeless, as it is contemporary.

Just like the Epic.




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Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Book Talk on ‘Govinda’ – Sept 4th 2010, Singapore

What does it take to make the Mahabharata real?

This was the key question on my mind, when I gave my first talk on the Aryavarta Chronicles, and ‘Govinda,’ in particular. It was also the first time I read from the book! Truth is, I couldn’t have asked for a better audience – the passion and precision behind the questions soon had me forgetting how nervous I was, and I thoroughly enjoyed the evening. (Many thanks to Jayapriya Vasudevan of Jacaranda Literary Agency for organising such a wonderful do.)

Back now, to the key question of that evening:

The Mahabharata, as we all know is the story a great war; one told in all magical glory, filled with demons and demigods, magical incantations, and heroes and villains both blessed with superpowers. Flying chariots, illusions, even the power of life and death; and of course, the blue-skinned flute playing God descended to earth.

But that is mythology, in all its grandeur. It’s not real. Now, don’t get me wrong here – The Mahabharata is an awesome story – it’s full of twists and turn, and absolutely memorable characters. These characters and their moral dilemmas have remained relevant till today. Both popular writers and academics have tried to contextualise the Mahabharata by going into the psyche of its huge cast, explore the emotions and thoughts that lay behind the story as we know it. However, that still does not get rid of the magic. And the Mahabharata still remains a myth; almost fantasy.

Hence, the question - What does it take to make the Mahabharata real?

If we had to tell this story today, keeping in mind what we know about physics, sociology, politics and economics, what would that story be?

And that is what my book is about. Historians talk of the Epics age, a time broadly between the third and first millennium B.C., when the events that form the seeds of this myth may have happened – sometime after the Indus Valley Civilisation, and the rise of what are known as Janapadas – semi-democratic city states. The Mahabharata itself is pegged towards the end of the period. Which means, a time of great change.

From hunter gatherers to agriculturalists; from feudal societies to democracies; from elite cliques of knowledge, cloaked in mysticism, to an era of written records. A time when trade and technology both grew, and society grew with it; but not without upheaval and turmoil.

My story is the story of people in these times, especially of one man – a rather intelligent, brave, and undoubtedly charming man, who believes that heaven and earth are not so disparate after all.

There is no mythical lore. No magic. Only humanity.
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Sunday, September 5, 2010

Mahabharata Quiz -II

As requested by many of you, here’s the second Mahabharata Quiz. The answers will follow (in due course), but if you find can’t bear to wait, do email me with your answers, or post a comment here… All the best, and enjoy!

Q1. Of the five sons of Pandu – the Pandava brothers – Nakul was famous as:

a) The most intelligent of the five
b) The best-looking one
c) The most cowardly of the five
d) The best singer
e) The tallest one

Q2. Matsyagandhi is another name for which of these royal ladies:

a) Subadhra
b) Pancali
c) Kunti
d) Sudeshna
e) Satyavati


Q3. Shikandin, Prince of Pancala had a son named:

a) Yuyudhana
b) Yudhamanyu
c) Yaudheya
d) Yuyutsu
e) He had no son at all


Q4. Mathura was the capital of which Kingdom during the times of the Mahabharata?

a) Kuru
b) Magadha
c) Dwaraka
d) Anartta
e) Surasena


Q5. Who in the Mahabharata was known by the epithet ‘wolf-bellied’?

a) Bhim
b) Syoddhan (Duryodhana)
c) Dussasana
d) Bakasura
e) Narakasura


Q6. What assumed name did Pancali go under, during her period of exile/hiding in the Kingdom of Matsya?

a) Sairandhari
b) Satyavati
c) Sudeshna
d) Malini
e) Mohini


Q7. What is the name given to Govinda Shauri’s sword?

a) Sudharshan
b) Nanda
c) Kaumoda
d) Nandaki
e) Chakra


Q8. Partha is often referred to in the Mahabharata by the term ‘Savyasachin’. What does this word mean?

a) Good-looking
b) Conqueror of All
c) A good friend
d) Ambidextrous
e) Someone who can shoot in the dark


Q9. Govinda and Partha often refer to each other as ‘cousins’. This is because

a) They are descended from the same ancestor, Yayati
b) Partha’s mother is actually Govinda’s aunt
c) Govinda and Partha are brothers-in-law
d) It is a term of endearment and closeness
e) They are just being polite


Q10. In the Mahabharata, who kills Ekalavya?

a) Dron
b) Asvattama
c) Partha
d) Abhimanyu
e) Govinda


Happy Quizzing!

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Thursday, August 26, 2010

Mumbai Mahabharata-1

The timelessness of the Mahabharata, I’ve come to realise, lies not in the morals or lessons, but in the dilemmas. As I look out across a murky Arabian Sea, it strikes me that not too far off to the north, the same waters wash along the shores of Dwaraka; or that just a short flight away are the cities that Dharma Yudhistir and Syoddhan ruled.

But the one truly on my mind right now is Bhisma Devavrata.
 
Imagine grappling with helplessness and impotence all your life – I mean that not in the sense of Bhisma’s vow of chastity, or his sacrifices; but in watching the world around you, in its gory splendour, and being able to do nothing about it.

Bhisma believed in Dharma or Justice, in a world of Order and morality. Yet his own beliefs left him powerless to do anything about the many events that came to pass in his lifetime. He watched, trapped by his notions of inevitability and the inexorability of his beliefs and principles. Imagine his confusion when these principles failed to conquer all. Imagine his despair – it’s not too difficult to do so from where I stand right now, watching three stray dogs fight, and then play on, in the surrounds of a slum that lies nestled between two high-rise buildings, not very far away from a dark, dirty sea.

Like many, Bhisma was not a bad man - Just a man without the answers; a man who both resisted and welcomed change. That dilemma haunted Bhisma for most of his life.

We want to believe in Avatars, not (only) in some metaphysical, divine sense; but in the larger truth that change is possible, that once in a while things can be set right after all, that even if we don’t have the answers, someone else does. Perhaps, that is why despite all these centuries that have passed, Govinda Shauri remains larger than life.
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Monday, August 2, 2010

Govinda, self... and green vegetables!

About a week ago, my wonderful agent Jayapriya Vasudevan of Jacaranda (check out their awesome list here: http://www.jacaranda-press.com/) asked me a question to which I had no glib answer.

Why did I write this book?

It took a few days, and twice that many glasses of soul-fuel, to scramble up any semblance of an answer.
The cryptic solution, finally, was this: I wrote this book because as a child, I hated green vegetables.

It might sound ridiculous, even trivial. So does the idea that the flap of a butterfly’s wings can create or stem a hurricane. But that, rather plainly stated, is the basis of chaos theory. And chaos, it certainly was.

My childhood gastronomical idiosyncrasies finally drove a despairing mass of family members, one grandmother included, to come up with a solution. I was fed stories from the Epic Mahabharata along with my greens. Clearly, the consequences had not been foreseen.

Given that these were the dark ages before 24-hour TV, video games, and the likes of Spiderman had coloured the juvenile world, the adventures from the Epics became an obsession. Friends and I played make-believe ‘cops and robbers’ style games, with each side reluctantly taking turns to play the evil Kauravyas. We poked many an eye out with our mighty bow and arrow sets, bought for five rupees during the Sunday sojourn to the local market. We turned tricycles into chariots, and saris and bed sheets into tents and voluminous robes. We fought for the chance to play the hero of the game - Partha Arjun, the archer; or to be the demon-rakshas Ghatotkach, during which one could pretend to eat up their fellow playmates; to cast astras as the all-powerful Dron and the Grandsire Bhisma; and to even die a gory death as Syoddhan Duryodhana.

Two characters, however, remained too complex to be played with, and then discarded and outgrown. Many years after I’d hung up my cardboard quiver, my middle-class, post-modern, part egalitarian - part feminist dialectic beliefs, still grappled with the question of Draupadi Pancali; and all the complex events that legend associates with her. The other character was Govinda Shauri.

The scriptures suggest, and the devout believe, that when Gods descend to earth as ‘avatars’, they too become bound by human foibles, by the laws of earth, and its reality. It was an explanation I could not accept, not just on grounds of agnosticism, but on grounds of faith. I wanted to believe in the rise of humanity, not in divinity diminished; in a true story that could have been history, not some improbable fantasy-tale that defies all logic and science. I was looking for, as the term goes, an outcome with significant probability; as opposed to choosing between a) denying something on the grounds that it is improbable, or b) believing in it, as a matter of faith.

That meant asking the question: If Govinda, Panċali, Dron, Syoddhan and all these other characters had walked this earth – the world as we know it today, bound by the same tenets of physics, psychology and politic theory that we hold sacrosanct - what might their story really have been.

Surprisingly, it may not have been very different from the stories told by Krishna Dwaipayana Vyasa. Kālās, Yugas, and the Wheel of Time suddenly made sense as theories of revolution and renewal. The magic-filled Epic of old fell into place as the tale of a feudal, agrarian hierarchy based on natural law and religion, caught in the throes of technological and economic change.

And, of course, it was the story of power politics and passion in the times of such change - Panċali, the fiery rebel, the sometimes-confused, sometimes-forthright thinker; caught in the web of her own despair and frustration. Govinda, on the other hand, was the quintessential revolutionary; someone who saw Time and Society as inexorable forces, and himself as an instrument of social evolution. Around their strange, indefinable relationship, many characters were woven together in a tangled web of intrigue.

It was a story that was waiting to be told, and so; I have.

Bold but not irreverent, and passionate but not irrational; this tale is different, but not lacking a deeper integrity. It is the story of why things happened.

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Thursday, July 29, 2010

Sanskrit Word of the Week (WoW)

Sanskrit Word of the Week: Agraja (agh-ruh-ja): A respectful term of address for an elder brother.

Usage:

'I'm sorry, agraja,' Sadev softly whispered. Dharma nodded graciously, taking no offense at all.'

(Govinda, Ch. 14.)
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Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Character Notes: Syoddhan (Duryodhana) Kauravya

Syoddhan is more commonly known by the name Duryoddhan (also sometimes Duryodhana).

The name Duryoddhan, however, has taken on a negative connotation in the minds of many, over the centuries. The prefix ‘dur’ is often understood as meaning ‘bad’ or ‘evil’; when actually, Dur-yoddhan only means a fell warrior, in the positive sense of unconquerable. Su-yoddhan, which means pretty much the same thing, is used frequently throughout the Mahabharata (MbH) to refer to this Prince.

Some rather interesting trivia about Syoddhan (Duryodhana):


- Despite all the ruckus, including a Great War, he never really did become King of his own country – his father Dhritarashtra sat on the Kuru throne for the entire duration of his son’s life.

- Syoddhan was supposedly a more skilled fighter than Bhim. Incidentally, both men trained under Balarama or Balabadra – Govinda’s elder brother. Balabadra, for his part, was known to have much respect and affection for Syoddhan.

- During the Great War, Syoddhan proved himself to be an excellent strategic commander, and a calm, rational thinker.

- Syoddhan had only one wife.

- For all his supposed villainy, Syoddhan has this stubborn, but endearing sense of honour that he clings on to, till the very end. On many occasions, we find him making statements that are shadows, somewhat of the philosophy of the Bhagavad Gita. Before the war, he makes a rather interesting comment to his mother, Gandhari; as to how Time had brought him to that particular juncture, and he only plays his role out, as determined by the larger scheme of things. True to his beliefs, at the end of the war Syoddhan dies unrepentant, for he has acted with honour and fulfilled his part in the larger drama.

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Thursday, July 15, 2010

Sanskrit Word of the Week (WoW)

Sanskrit Word of the Week: Maraka (Mah-Rah-Kaa)

Literally, a plague. Also used as an expletive for something irksome or to curse or swear at someone.

Usage:

'Pançali, no! Wait!' Govinda shouted.
'I won't watch helplessly. There still may be time, if only they're warned,' she shouted in response. With that, the princess urged her horse into a gallop down the hill.
‘Maraka! This woman…!’

(Govinda, Ch. 29.)
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