The elegy and its many faces
[Part 5]
Last week I discussed the concept of elegy as it manifested itself in
two classical Indian texts.- the Mahabharata and the Purananuru. Today I
wish to discuss one of my favorite Sanskrit poems, The Meghaduta, (The
Cloud Messenger) in terms of its elegiac propensities. As a student of
Sanskrit, I remember studying this text at the Peradeniya University and
being so absorbed in its poetic texture and verbal under-music. This is
a text to which I return regularly with increasing enthusiasm and
anticipation.
It seems to me that there are two versions of the term elegy - a
strong version and weak version. The strong version tells us that the
idea of death is central to the elegy; the weaker version believes that
the ideas of loss, of separation are adequate. According to this
dichotomy The Meghaduta, which belongs to the ‘khanda kavya’ tradition
(minor poems) is an elegy although it does not deal with death or mourn
the death of a beloved person. Indeed, many of the Sanskrit poetic texts
that have as their declared interest the generation of the aesthetic
emotion of love in separation (vipralambha sringara) belongs to this
latter category. His other lyrical poem The Ritusamhara (Gathering of
the Seasons) represents the power of love-in-union.
Kalidasa is the author of the Meghaduta, and he is generally regarded
as the greatest poet and playwright of India. It was for nothing that he
was referred to as the Teacher of Poets ( kavi kula guru). The lyrical
beauty that characterizes his poems and plays is unsurpassed. He lived
in the fourth or the fifth century; evidence is scanty and so much of
Kalidasa’s biography is shrouded in mystery. Among his works are the
‘Raguvamsa’, which charts the royal line of descent of which Rama was
part, is considered to be the finest Sanskrit poem and Sakuntala, as it
is popularly known, which won the highest praise from writers like
Goethe, is by common consent the greatest Sanskrit stage play.
The ‘Meghaduta’, or The Cloud Messenger, is a delightful poem that
gives full rein to Kalidasa’s indubitable imagination and creative
powers. The poem consists of 114 four line stanzas, and deals with the
predicament of a demi-god (yaksha), who was banished from his home for
neglect of duty. Consequently he is separated from his wife. The poem
depicts the way in which he in desperation requests a cloud to carry a
message to his separated wife. This is the kernel of the poem, and
Kalidasa elaborates it using the 17-syllabled mandakranta meter
(literally slowly approaching meter). Indeed it needs to be said that
this is exactly the appropriate meter to capture the reflexivity and the
poignancy, associated with the experience the poem seeks to reconfigure.
This meter both forwards and contains, as any well-chosen meter should,
the dominant and privileged emotion. The poem consists of two parts- the
Purva Megha and Uttara Megha;the first part which ends in 65th stanza
deals with the journey, and the second half with a description of Alaka,
where his beloved is.
Lyrical poetry
As the title suggests, ‘The Meghaduta’ represents a sub-genre of
lyrical poetry referred to as message poetry. It marks the genesis of a
powerful genre that inspired many imitators but none could ever rise to
the high standards set by Kalidasa. This is, of course, not to suggest
that the idea of message-sending is absent in earlier texts. The ancient
treatise on drama, The Natyasastra, refers to the messenger (duti) as
one among the identified characters; in the Rig Veda we come across
Sarama the hound sent by the gods as a messenger.
And in the Mahabharata, in the Nala-Damayanti episode a golden swan
is entrusted with the task of carrying messages between Nala and
Damayanti. However, it is in ‘The Meghaduta’ that the idea of a
message-poem was given concrete shape and invested with lyrical beauty
in a way that would serve as a model worthy of emulation for subsequent
poets. In the South India, there was a strong tradition of message
poetry that exercised a palpable impact on the literary sensibility, and
in our own Sinhala poetic tradition, message poetry (sandesha kavya)
play a pivotal role. Some of our finest poetical works work within the
compass of this sub-genre.
Anyone reading The Meghaduta, even in translation, is bound to be
struck by its exquisite lyrical beauty. Part of this beauty arises from
the skill with which the poet has been able to capture the physical
landscape through moving imagery and infuse it with a transcendental
aura. Verses such as the following, which I have translated from the
original Sanskrit, should illustrate this pint cogently.
Its slopes covered with the glow of ripened mangoes
And you, on the mountain peak, darkly shining like a glossy coil of
hair
It will indeed attract the gaze of celestial lovers
Like a great breast of the earth, dark at the center, a golden gleam
around.
Resting for a while on the peak, whose groves stir the brides of
foresters
Sprinkle a shower, then move very rapidly on the road beyond
You will witness at the foot of Vindhya mountain, the Reva river
Its streams fragmented like ash on an elephant’s flanks.
Verbal beauty
What is interesting about The Meghaduta is that this verbal beauty,
the lyrical intensity, is wedded to a complex structural organization of
the poetic text. Most critics pay scant attention to this aspect. To my
mind, the architecture of the poem is extremely important and invites
closer study. This poem, with its complex symmetries, can prove to be a
rich treasure-trove for literary analysts of a structuralist persuasion.
Let me cite one or two instances in which this complex verbal
organization that I refer to finds expression. In the opening stanza,
the demi-god’s fall from grace and the concomitant fading of glory is
captured in the trope ‘astam gamita mahima’, which literally means that
the son of his glory has set. This is indeed a powerful locution. What
is interesting about is that the hope for resurrection of his glory is
also implied in this trope just like the setting sun is bound to rise in
the sky the following morning.
What is also interesting about this trope is that it returns in the
final stanza of the poem, bringing the text to a circular completion.
Similarly, at the conclusion of the poem readers are made aware of the
fact that they are still perched on Ramagiri and that the dark cloud is
still hugging the peak of the hill. Has anything changed? It is indeed a
question worth pondering. But what is clear is that the poem has
returned to the location from where it began. Throughout the poem,
Kalidasa establishes symmetries such as these and he persuades words,
tropes, events to echo each other reflecting a supremely organized
creative intelligence behind the lines.
The Meghaduta is an elegy in the weaker sense that I stated earlier.
What I mean by this is that there is no death and the mourning of the
deceased in this poem as would be the case in typical elegies. However,
the poet deals with the separation from his wife in elegiac terms. All
elegies deal with the issue of consolation and solace for the grieving
subject. The very poem that comes into being as a result of the grieving
and the desire to put it into words is clearly a means of solace.
In The Meghaduta this desire for consolation and solace finds
articulation in complex strategies of verbal organization and texture.
In this regard, I wish to focus on five aspects that invite closer
examination. If you recognize a whiff of deconstruction in my reading,
let me reassure you that it is not unintended.
First, the relationship between the demi-god (yaksa) who has been
exiled for dereliction of duty and the cloud that is to carry a message
to his young wife is extremely interesting. There is indeed a complex
relationship between the two which adds significantly to the power of
the poem. While the poet praises the cloud for its generosity and
kindness, he also raises the question whether the cloud is not just a
part of nature consisting of elements. Indeed this tension is a
condition of its own power.
A mixture of vapor, light, water and air what does a cloud
Have to do with a message that can be conveyed by a sentient being
But yet the yaksha in desperation entrated it
For those who arte lovelorn mistake the sentient for the insentient
This is followed immediately by the following stanza which introduces
a contradictory train of thought.
Born in the illustrious lineage of clouds, renowned in the world
I know you are the minister of Indra, taking any shape you will
Owing to the decree, far from my wife, I implore you
Better futile pleas to the noble, than fruitful to the vulgar,
Efficaciousness
This doubt about the efficaciousness of the cloud and its
valorization as a generous entity puts in play an ambiguity that imparts
a sense of complexity to the musings of the demi-god. His confidence
erases itself even as it inscribes itself in the text.
What is interesting about the cloud is that the plight of the
demi-god has been displaced on to the cloud; the cloud becomes his
alter-ego. While he remains in seclusion in exile, the cloud roams over
the landscape freely. As the poem unfolds, the poet establishes an
erotic relationship between the cloud and the landscape.
This becomes a supplement in the Derridean sense, to the experience
of the demi-god and his beloved. His poem operates within the
well-established lover-beloved (nayaka-nayika) tradition of Sanskrit
literature. The relationship between the cloud and the landscape becomes
one that is erotically charged reminding us of the ‘nayaka-nayika’
tradition so characteristic of Sanskrit art and literature. Kalidasa,
very skillfully, develops the erotic relationship between the cloud and
the mountain extending the range if its symbolic meaning. A stanza like
the following brings this out vividly.
Its slopes covered with the glow of ripened mangoes
And you, on the mountain peak, darkly shining like a glossy coil of
hair
It will indeed attract the gaze of celestial lovers
Like a great breast of the earth, dark at the center, a golden gleam
around
As the poem moves forward, it becomes apparent that the separation
and re-union of the cloud and the mountain become emblematic of the
relationship between the yaksha and his beloved.
Second, the question of time is important. The poet invokes time
throughout the poem as a way of bringing solace to his protagonist. The
demi-god has been banished for a year for dereliction of duty; eight
months have gone by and four more remain. It is only a small fraction of
time in comparison to the vast time scales alluded to in the poem. In
this poem, time assumes diverse shapes. There is an intermingling of the
past, future and present; there is constant reference to mythic and epic
time, time as transcendental.
We have intimations of time beyond time. What this poetic and
mythical discourse of time carefully evoked by the poet does in this
elegy is to place the time of separation of the demi-god and his beloved
in its proper consoling context; after all it is only a minute fraction
of time. Therefore, it seems to me, the invocation of time is used by
Kalidasa as a way of bring a sense of solace to his giving protagonist.
Third, the juxtaposition of the demi-god and the cloud serves to
secure another form of solace. The yaksha has been banished for failing
in his duties. He is overwhelmed by the anxieties and anguishes of
separation from his beloved. He is portrayed as a person of passionate
disposition – ‘kami.’ Because of his kindness, largesse, the desire to
help others, he is associated with the traditional Indian cultural value
of dutifulness (dharma).
According to traditional axiology, the demi-god has violated the
norms of dharma while the cloud is an upholder of the dharma; however,
the poet has sought to represent the cloud as the alter ego of the
protagonist. What this does is to introduce the idea of supplement in
the way that Derrida has glossed it – an extension and a replacement at
the same time. Hence, the dharmic elements in his alter-ego’s character
bring in the much needed consolation to the grieving protagonist.
Wonderful interplay
Fourth, there is a wonderful interplay of the ideas freedom and
imprisonment in The Meghaduta, one of whose effects is to usher in the
sense of solace that we have been discussing. The protagonist of the
poem is imprisoned in Ramagiri; his freedom has been curtailed. On the
other hand, the cloud is free to roam high above the sky observing vast
stretches of land experiencing unfettered joy.. There is an interesting
intersection of freedom and unfreedom here. Some of the lines in the
poem capture the freedom of the cloud in glowing terms.
Listen, now, as I uncover a path suitable for your journey
O rain-giver, which you will follow, resting your feet
When tired, on a mountain, refreshed when exhausted
By the clear waters of streams, you will hear my message
The cloud is free to move along the pathways described by the
demi-god, while he himself is condemned to immobility. At the same time,
through his descriptions to the cloud, he can vicariously participate in
the journey. Hence there is an interesting interplay between freedom
represented by the cloud and the unfreedom represented by the demi-god.
This is given a further layer of complexity when we realize that the
poet has made the cloud into the alter ego of the demi-god.
Fifth the binaries of certainty and uncertainty that pervades the
poetic text has a way of deepening the sense of solace. The plight of
the yaksha calls attention to the uncertainty that characterizes mundane
existence. At the same time, it is enveloped by a larger certainty that
emerges from the religious symbolism in the poem. In this elegy we
observe how desire legitimizes itself by signposting the religiously
possible. This interplay can be seen at a number of different levels.
For example the two cities of Alaka and Ramagiri are important; they
represent the divine and the mundane.
Alaka, which is high up in the Himalayas has a divine aura about it;
it is where semi-divine beings move freely and it is captured in terms
of religious imagery. The Ramagiri, where the yaksha is condemned to
lead his lonely existence is emblematic of the earthy. However, as the
poem progresses we observe how there is a union of the divine and the
mundane, the celestial and the earthy, foreshadowing the hoped-for union
of the yaksha and his beloved.
The whole poem is bathed in religious imagery. The poet seems to be
gesturing towards a higher reality that surpasses the tensions,
anxieties, ambiguities of the worldly existence. The idea of divine law
is a sub-text in the poem. What this does is to introduce a note of
certainty to the poetic text. In other words a sense of certainty trumps
the overt uncertainty precipitated by the banishment of the demi-god.
Once gain this has the effect of bringing in a sense of consolation
because one is convinced of the fact that there is a lager reality,
solid and dependable, that exists beyond the temporary fluctuations of
earthly life.
I have pointed to five aspects of the elegy which has the effect of
ushering in a sense of solace. As we discussed the nature of the elegy
as a poetic genre, we realized that this idea of consolation is crucial
to this poetic genre; indeed, it manifests in diverse ways depending on
cultural conventions of loss and mourning as well as poetic conventions
of loss and melancholy that characterizes each society. In the case of
Kalidasa’s The Meghaduta, the imprint of Indian culture and religiosity
is clearly present in the poetic text. It is vitally connected to the
meaning of this elegy. The reconstitution of the divine in the mundane
is a defining trait of this elegy. The landscape of visibility, desire
and memory that is featured in this poem has a clear religious frame.
Influential analyse
I would like to discuss this inter-animation of the divine and the
mundane from another angle. One of the finest and most influential
analyses of the concept of desire, in recent times, has been proposed by
the French philosopher Gilles Deleuze and psychiatrist Felix Guattari.
It is indeed true that they dissect the notion of desire in terms of
capitalist modernity. However, there is a general principle embedded in
their discussion that can be productively invoked for advancing our
immediate purpose. Standardly, desire is seen as a lack and the struggle
to meet that need. If one pauses to examine cutting-edge theorists like
Jacque Lacan one would realize that this lack is at the heart of the
concept of desire. Deleuze and Guattari see it differently; for them
desire is productive, it is positive They make the point that one needs
to draw a distinction between interest and desire – a distinction that,
in my judgment, is central to understanding The Meghaduta.
Interest refers to the rational choices that one is compelled to
make. And desire provides the larger discursive environment within which
that interest could be pursued and fulfilled. This line of thinking, I
submit, can be applied to the Meghaduta. The immediate interest of the
yaksha is to unite with his young wife. However, Kalidasa develops the
dynamics of this interest within the larger discursive context of
desire, and that desire is closely connected to a religious imagination
and cosmic understanding. Therefore, a Deluzian approach to this elegy
can prove to be productive. I am not, of course, ignoring or downplaying
the risks such a move would entail. But that is a risk worth taking in
the quest for hermeneutic daring.
Some of the elegies that we discussed earlier were marked by a
penchant for open-endedness with everything that it brings in its train
The same bent of mind can be seen in The Meghaduta.
This poem is open-ended; we do not know whether the message was
successfully delivered by the cloud to the beloved of the protagonist.
In other words, we do not know whether the journey urged on by the
yaksha ended in success or failure. In a sense that is not the point, as
Kalidasa perceives it. His ambition is to probe the consciousness of a
lovelorn husband against the background of a luscious natural world and
the enframing presence of a religious and moral world. The poem says
that there is indeed a spiritual destiny which needs to be reached that
lies beyond the pulsations of the material world. The open-endedness
that I referred to is a vital component of this argument.
The awareness of loss and the desire for retrieval find poignant
articulation in different elegies in different forms. Clearly, in The
Meghaduta this awareness bears the shape of its own distinctive
ambitions.
This modulates the elegy’s internal disposition in complex ways.
Kalidasa, in his elegy, reconfigures a living world in order to gesture
towards a larger world beyond it. It is this conviction that gives this
poem its indubitable power of resonance. In this regard, a comparison of
Kalidasa’s elegy with those written by, say, Milton or Shelley that I
discussed earlier should prove to be extremely instructive..
(To be continued)
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