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The Giver of the Worn Garland KRISHNADEVARAYA'S AMUKTAMALYADA

Page 4

by SRINIVAS REDDY


  29See Notes to Poems I.1–3.

  30Commentators often contrast the peaceful devotional life of Śrī Villiputtūr (sattva guṇa) to the political and commercial bustle of Madhura (rajas guṇa).

  31See poems VI.105–6.

  32Steiner 19.

  33See also I.76, I.80–82, II.73 and II.97.

  34Pound (1935) 335.

  Śrī Kṛṣṇadevarāya’s Āmuktamālyada

  Giver of the Worn Garland

  INVOCATION

  I.1

  He is seen in the sparkle of her lovely jewelled necklace

  and She is reflected in his radiant Kaustubha Gem,

  as if the image of the other that each held within their hearts

  was coming into view, their bodies merging

  crystal pure into a single being.

  To this magnificent Lord of Vĕṅkaṭa, I offer my salutations.

  I.2

  From time to time Viṣṇu casts a loving glance towards Lakṣmi

  and as they descend towards Earth to enjoy each other

  the endless serpent Ādiśeṣa raises his broad flat hoods

  creating a hall of moonlight to illuminate their love.

  I worship you Ananta, eternally existing, beyond the passing aeons.

  I.3

  When the King of Birds flaps his powerful wings

  the waters of the ocean are swept into heaven,

  revealing the snakes of hell, who out of sheer terror

  wrap themselves into spiral coils.

  The submarine mare of fire fills the sky with brilliant lightning

  and the rushing wind rattles through giant caves

  turning Meru and Mandara into a pair of drums.

  Massive trees for his nest are whisked away like tiny broken twigs and whole villages are hurled and cast in every direction!

  The mighty storm of Garuḍa’s wings turns the whole world

  upside down, dispersing sins like heaps of cotton.

  I.4

  With just a slight gesture of his brow,

  Viṣṇu gives his general the command to commence creation.

  And with a mere flick of the tip of his staff

  Viśvaksena brings the whole world into being

  like a potter using a stick to spin his wheel.

  Now I seek refuge in this golden staff of creation.

  I.5

  When Hari breathes in, to blow his conch

  the air passes over the blackened mire of sin

  sucking out the life force from demon after demon.

  And when he breathes out, the bees that swarm at his lotus lap

  are drawn towards his mouth by his fragrant breath.

  O Pāñcajanyam, white and radiant like a full moon night

  everything around you is purified.

  I.6

  Viṣṇu’s sword is like a sparkling lampstand

  shining bright with the light of knowledge.

  A golden crocodile with a mouth of fire

  rests at its hilt, flickering like a flame

  while kāṭuka rises like wisps of smoke.

  Brilliant Nandaka! You sever every sin

  like a sword through a heap of creeper vines.

  I.7

  When Sāḷva King of the Demons created a city in the sky

  surrounded by a rampart of gems, Kṛṣṇa King of the Yādavas

  flew through the heavens with his long powerful arms

  and smashed through the city with his celestial mace,

  adding that city’s golden enclosure to his many adorning bracelets.

  To the divine weapon Kaumodika,

  decorated with a garland of heavenly flowers, I offer my prayers.

  I.8

  When Viṣṇu was ready to shower a volley of arrows upon the demon Sumāli, the mighty Sāraṅga bow said—

  ‘O Hari, let me protect you!

  You transformed the hunchbacked Trivakra

  into a slender maiden with beautiful hair.

  Bring out my true nature too, for I have three curves like her.

  Grab the middle of my bow and bend the two ends inward!’

  I.9

  When Rāhu swallowed the elixir of the gods

  Sudarśana quickly chopped off his head

  and forced immortal juice to come pouring out his mouth.

  The other demons looked on as thick blood spurt from his neck

  like a wide pot, under tall flames

  bubbling and boiling with seething rage.

  To this divine discus Sudarśana, I offer my salutations.

  I.10

  To escape the intense heat of the twelve Āditya suns

  Viṣṇu resides in the cool loving hearts of the twelve Ālvār saints,

  intoxicated by the sweet cascades of nectar that fill their lotus minds.

  In my search for salvation I honour these luminous bodies,

  twelve blessed souls of the earth.

  * * *

  And here ends the invocation of my beloved Lord.

  THE DREAM

  I.11

  Some time ago I set out on a campaign to expand my empire and conquer the Kaliṅga country. I marched to Vijayavāḍa with my army and camped in Śrīkākulam for a few days. There at the temple of Āndhra Viṣṇu I worshipped the Lord on his special day of fasting, and then, during the fourth watch of the night…

  I.12

  Āndhra Viṣṇu appeared to me in a dream—

  his lustrous black body made the rain clouds look pale

  and his bright wide eyes put the lovely lotus to shame,

  his golden silk clothes outshone Garuḍa’s wings,

  and his Kaustubha Gem eclipsed the red rising sun.

  Lakṣmi appeared there too, carrying a lotus in one hand

  and holding his hand with the other,

  her kind face removed all my desires

  and her gentle smile emanated true compassion.

  Then Viṣṇu spoke to me—

  I.13

  ‘You composed the Story of Madālasa and the Pleasures of Satyabhāma

  and delighted connoisseurs with your natural usage

  of hyperbole, metaphor, subtle suggestion and sarcasm.

  You selected the best episodes from the Vedas and the Purāṇas

  and compiled the Abridged Essence of All Stories.

  With great poetic skill you wrote the Jewel of Wisdom

  that could dispel the sins of any listener,

  and your Handbook on Aesthetics

  was praised by scholars for its sweet poetry.

  All of these works you wrote in Sanskrit,

  but is it impossible to compose poetry in Telugu?

  Create a great poem in Telugu for my pleasure!

  I.14

  ‘If you ask, “Which of your forms shall I remember?”

  Listen, for I shall tell you.

  Recount the story of my wedding in Śrīraṅgam

  for I am a Telugu king and you are the King of Kannaḍa!

  Long ago I grudgingly accepted a garland offered by a man.

  Make up for this misdeed by describing

  the pleasure of receiving a gift from your beloved.

  Tell the story of my dear Āmuktamālyada, Giver of the Worn Garland.

  I.15

  ‘If you ask, “Why Telugu?”

  It is because this is Telugu country and I am a Telugu king.

  Telugu is one of a kind.

  After speaking with all the kings that serve you, didn’t you realize—

  amongst all the regional languages, Telugu is the best!

  I.16

  ‘If you ask, “To whom shall I dedicate this work?”

  Offer it to your favorite Lord Vĕṅkaṭeśvara, for I am He.

  Though we differ in name and appearance

  we are one and the same.

  I.17

  ‘If you compose this book

  your future will grow brighter and brighter!’

 
And with these words he disappeared.

  At dawn I awoke astonished and performed the proper rituals,

  and with the utmost devotion I offered my salutations

  to the central temple spire.

  I.18

  Early that morning I held court. I called together my generals

  and vassals, but quickly dismissed them back to their camps.

  Then I summoned together various wise men and scholars,

  honoured them and related my most wondrous dream. They

  were amazed and overjoyed. They said—

  ‘O lord! The fact that the God of gods came to you in a dream

  foretells a series of auspicious events. Listen.

  First, the appearance of the Lotus-Eyed God means that your

  devotion will grow still stronger. The fact that he commanded

  you to compose an epic poem promises that your knowledge of

  literature will deepen still further.

  And because Śrī appeared there beside him, your treasury will

  grow even more abundant. And the hundred-petalled lotus in her

  hand symbolizes that you will acquire the emblematic white

  parasol of a mighty emperor.

  The God’s words carry meaning as well—‘After speaking with

  all the kings that serve you’ predicts that you will easily attract

  many more vassals, and ‘If you compose this book your future

  will grow brighter and brighter’ foretells that you will have

  many more wives, and many more children, who will live long

  and uphold the greatness of your glorious Turvasu lineage.

  These auspicious omens are truly wonderful. Listen and heed the

  words of the Lord.’

  * * *

  I.50

  Here is my epic poem Āmuktamālyada, Giver of the Worn

  Garland. The story begins like this …

  CHAPTER I

  ŚRĪ VILLIPUTTŪR

  I.51

  The town of Śrī Villiputtūr is the glittering jewelled bŏṭṭu

  that adorns the face of the Pāṇḍya kingdom.

  There, ornamental birds made of sapphire and emerald

  decorate the eaves of golden mansions and almost start to sing,

  as if echoing the chattering of cuckoos and parrots

  who live in the town’s row of beautiful gardens.

  I.52

  The countless mansions are like Indra’s famed palace—

  roofs gilded with golden tiles, and crimson towers

  inlaid with lotus buds made of pink rubies

  like a tall proud warrior on the eve of battle

  decked in golden armour and capped with a shining helmet.

  I.53

  All along the lanes, mansion doors can be seen

  in a long neat row, straight as a tautly pulled string.

  The auspicious conch and discus, etched on either side of the doors

  are reflected in the jewelled verandas, and the garlands of gems

  that hang over the doorways become wedding crowns

  in the imaginations of women from neighbouring villages

  who visit Śrī Villiputtūr in hopes of finding a husband.

  The front terrace steps are engraved with emerald elephants

  like the Eight Guardian Elephants emerging from the primordial

  ocean covered in blue-green algae. Above them, ornamental lions

  sneak up on the elephants and swallow their heads,

  leaving nothing behind but their dangling trunks.

  Two of these elephants and a woman from the street

  are mirrored in the golden waters in front of the mansion,

  appearing like the goddess Lakṣmi

  bathed by a pair of splashing elephants.

  I.54–I.55

  The breasts of the Pāṇḍya women are daubed with coral-coloured

  kuṁkum, red as the tender fruit of the tall coconut trees

  that line the diamond-paved lanes of the town.

  There, beautiful mansion gateways

  cleaned with dung and painted with muggulu

  seem to be decorated with no effort at all.

  The bejewelled mansions are studded with so many

  precious stones that the sea has been plundered of its treasures,

  so in hope of retaining a few last gems

  the Ocean barters away his first wife, the river Gaṅga

  and his sons, the wish-granting trees of heaven.

  I.56

  In the gardens of Śrī Villiputtūr

  Drāviḍa women bathe in oval ponds filled with red water lilies,

  and after smearing themselves with holy turmeric

  they tenderly collect lotuses for their morning pūja.

  Walking along garden paths with flowers in their hands

  and water jugs swaying at their hips, their silver anklets

  glitter and jingle

  as they happily return home singing songs of devotion.

  I.57

  Silver fish glimmer in the pure clear water

  of sapphire-ringed roadside wells,

  as noisy groups of kingfisher birds swoop down

  from tall tree branches to catch their prey.

  Up and down they go

  like the bouncing balls

  of playful Drāviḍa girls.

  I.58

  Lotus-Eyed Lakṣmi and Nārāyaṇa each have a temple chariot

  engraved with beautiful scenes of lovemaking—

  where couples play in valley caves, nestled between

  the mountains called Meru and Mandara.

  Though these mighty mountains give the gods

  their home and life-giving nectar,

  they ask the tall buildings of Śrī Villiputtūr to judge

  who’s better, for these lofty mansions provide

  both food and shelter for the needy.

  I.59

  Groups of temple courtesans play games on their verandas

  and as they shake the dice with one hand, their braids come undone

  so when they lift up the other hand to fix their hair

  their tight silken blouses and perfect breasts are revealed

  like the soft round pillows of the God of Love.

  And as they throw the dice, the mere jingle of their bracelets

  is enough to stir the hearts of solitary sages.

  When Kāma with his safflower arrows crosses their path

  they don’t even raise their faces to look at him,

  for they treat him like any other petty lover.

  But when priests walk by,

  they stop their games, stand up, and reverently offer their salutations.

  So jealous are men that even proud Indra desires

  to serve Lord Viṣṇu

  so that he too can garner such loving attention.

  Whenever they hear conches from Viṣṇu’s temple,

  signalling the time for prasādam,

  they quickly turn their heads, and that darting glimmer

  from the corner of their eyes

  pierces the hearts of the townsmen.

  I.60

  With a single grain of unhusked rice

  they clean their pān-stained teeth

  until they shine like moonlight.

  And with a fine piece of white cloth

  they daub their freshly bathed bodies

  with yellow turmeric, so gently, the cloth remains unstained.

  With their cīras already on,

  they slip their hands underneath their blouses

  and caress themselves with perfumed paste.

  And if a necklace happens to break in the passion of lovemaking

  they pay no heed to the precious pearls

  that lie scattered across the floor.

  These lotus-faced courtesans learned in language and poetry

  can quickly assess the status of any man that approaches them,
<
br />   but even if an old lover is put out, they always treat him well.

  The king himself wanders their quarter as if it is his outside harem.

  I.61

  The ladies of Śrī Villiputtūr throw away tarnished gold jewellery

  for fine pearl necklaces and gem-studded bracelets.

  They detest greasy civet fragrance

  and only use the finest antelope musk to scent their bodies.

  They refuse fresh flowers

  and only perfume their hair with sweet sandalwood smoke.

  And they push aside thick heavy clothes for sāris made of silk.

  I.62

  At dawn, courtesans stand under rooftop eaves

  and pull their black hair between their breasts to untie their braids,

  and as they flick away last night’s withered flowers

  with their long trim nails, honeybees emerge and buzz away.

  Lustful men see this scene and fantasize

  that the courtesans are playing a double-gourd vīṇa,

  a sweet tune rising as they quickly move their hands

  across the ivory frets.

  I.63

  With their girlfriends’ spiteful comments in their ears

  courtesans reject the desires of poor, old and ugly men.

  They even turn down the wealthiest man,

  for these women, with ears like the letter śrī, are already rich.

  I.64

  After Drāviḍa housewives prepare their bath

  by rubbing sticks of turmeric in the waters of their bathing ponds,

  white-winged swans fall asleep near the jewel-encrusted steps

  and stain their feathers a deep rich yellow,

  so bright, that when they waddle through the town

  people see the golden swans of heaven

  descended from the celestial river.

  I.65

  In the waterways of rich paddy fields

  ducks tuck their heads into their thick white plumage and fall asleep.

  The watchmen think, ‘These must be the clothes, squeezed dry

  and left behind by the brahmans who bathed here in the morning!’

  And as they dive into the water to fetch and return the clothes,

  the ducks scatter, while the girls, huddled and watching from the fields

  start to laugh.

  I.66

  Mango trees and date palms burst with fruit blossoms

  and beautiful flowers of jasmine, chrysanthemum,

  safflower and oleander are in their full bloom

  but the prized Rājanam rice is flowerless,

 

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