by Bibek Debroy
Sarama’s descendants were the Sarameyas. And there were two of these, identified with Yama and death. ‘Run and outspeed the two dogs, Sarama’s offspring, brindled, four-eyed, upon thy happy pathway. Draw nigh then to the gracious-minded Fathers where they rejoice in company with Yama. And those two dogs of thine, Yama, the watchers, four-eyed, who look on men and guard the pathway—Entrust this man, O King, to their protection, and with prosperity and health endow him. Dark-hued, insatiate, with distended nostrils, Yama’s two envoys roam among the People; May they restore to us a fair existence here and to-day, that we may see the sunlight.’20 The two Sarameyas are thus Yama’s messengers and sentinels who guard Yama’s abode. They have four eyes and are white and multi-coloured. And dead souls have to pass between these two Sarameyas before they reach Yama’s abode. The dogs even guide the souls to Yama. These are roles that Hermes also had. The quote given from the Rg Veda mentions the word ‘Shabala’ in the Sanskrit, meaning multicoloured or spotted. Or brindled. There is a slight variation of this shloka in the Atharva Veda,21 where too, Yama’s dogs are described as four-eyed and strong. They had long noses. Subsequently, these two dogs, descendants of Sarama, came to be known as Shyama and Shabala. The word Shyama means dark and the word Shabala means spotted. This identification is due to another shloka in the Atharva Veda (8/1/9), where these words are used. However, in this shloka, these two words seem to be used as adjectives. Subsequently, the puranas made Shyama and Shabala proper names for Sarama’s two sons. ‘Kerberos is allied to the word Karbara—spotted and variegated; this again yields a later form Sabala, which means the same thing.’22 Sukumari Bhattacharji also quotes the Parashara Grihya Sutra (1/16/24) to tell us that Shyama and Shabala’s father was Sisara. And that the Hiranyakesin Grihya Sutra mentions a dog-demon named Sisarama, a compound of Sisara and Sarama.
Incidentally, Sarama has also been identified as the constellation Centaurus, with the two Sarameyas identified as Crux (the Southern Cross) and Musca.23
‘The half-wild pariah dog was as common in early India as it is today, and dogs were also used in hunting. In the hills a special breed of large dog, perhaps resembling the modern Tibetan mastiff, was famous beyond the bounds of India. The Persian emperor Artaxerxes I (465–424 BCE) is said by Herodotus to have exempted the inhabitants of four Babylonian villages from taxation in return for their breeding Indian dogs for war and hunting. These dogs were also known in the Egypt of the Ptolemies.’24 Basham does not seem to have been very accurate, at least on Herodotus. Herodotus 1.192 mentions a Persian satrap (Tritantaechmus) from Babylon assigning revenues from four large villages to the care of his Indian hounds. This is not quite exemption from taxation and does not refer to Artaxerxes I. ‘Besides which he kept so great a number of Indian hounds, that four large villages of the plain were exempted from all other charges on condition of finding them in food.’25 Herodotus 7.187 mentions Xerxes I (486–465 BCE) using Indian dogs in his army when he marched against Greece. ‘Indian hounds followed the army.’ Aelian 8.1 mentions Alexander the Great receiving a gift of four fighting dogs from India. However, even if Basham is wrong in the nitty-gritty, the thrust is right. India bred and exported dogs. And these Indian fighting dogs were known for their courage and bravery.
And all three dog functions, herd dog, hunting dog and watchdog, were known in the Rg Vedic period. Somewhat more unusually, dogs were also used as beasts of burden, to draw carts perhaps. ‘Sole Lord in beauty meet for praise, O Vayu, dropping fatness down, Hurried along by steeds, by camels, and by hounds, spreads forth thy train: even this it is.’26 In return for these functions, Sarama ensured food for herself and for her children. ‘When Indra and the Angirases desired it, Sarama found provision for her offspring. Brhaspati cleft the mountain, found the cattle: the heroes shouted with the kine in triumph.’27 The farm dog (at least in the sense of a herd dog) had already become a yard dog, if not a house dog.
There is also a rather long reference to watchdogs guarding the house, where a dog seems to be addressed as Vastospati, the presiding deity of the house.
Vastospati, who killest all disease and wearest
every form, Be an auspicious Friend to us. When,
O bright Son of Sarama, thou showest, tawny-
hued! Thy teeth,
They gleam like lances’ points within thy mouth
when thou wouldst bite; go thou to sleep.
Sarama’s Son, retrace thy way: bark at the robber
and the thief.
At Indra’s singers barkest thou? Why dust thou
seek to terrify us? Go to sleep. Be on thy guard
against the boar, and let the boar beware of thee.
At Indra’s singers barkest thou? Why dost thou
seek to terrify us? Go to sleep.
Sleep mother, let the father sleep, sleep dog and
master of the house.
Let all the kinsmen sleep, sleep all the people who
are round about.28
These words suggest that a watchdog was an integral element of a house, the words are addressed to this watchdog. But who are these words addressed by? Several interpretations have been suggested.29 First, a friendly passerby may have wished the householders rest and sleep, protected from thieves. Second, a thief may have uttered these words as an incantation that the watchdog and the inmates continue to sleep and the theft takes place uninterrupted. This second interpretation seems unlikely though. After all, Sarama’s son is being asked to attack robbers and thieves, leaving the worshipper of Indra unharmed. Besides, the composer of this hymn is the sage Vasistha. Why should he behave like a thief? Third, ingenious scholars have also suggested reasons why Vasistha should behave like a thief, such as entering Varuna’s house to steal something to eat. The first interpretation is the one most likely. In any case, the interpretations don’t really concern us. What is clear is that the watchdog was an integral element of the house. At least, Varuna had a watchdog.
To return to the Sarama–pani dialogue mentioned earlier, who were the panis? The panis were certainly not evil demons. They were a class of merchants or traders. Many words connected with trade, commerce and business have the same etymological root. Pan, panya, vanijya are examples. The panis are also referred to as vanis in the Rg Veda and in Teutonic mythology, the panis figure as the Vanir. The asuras were not demons either, that is an identification that came much later. The devas and the asuras belonged to the same racial group, with the asura group identified with Iran and the deva group identified with Aryas in India. Since the dog is relatively more sacred in Iran and relatively less sacred in India, this probably means that dogs were identified more with asuras than with devas. Panis, in the Rg Veda, are regarded as slightly inferior to both devas and asuras. Incidentally, the Rg Veda refers to both Varuna and Mitra as asuras. In Teutonic mythology too, the Vanir are regarded as slightly inferior to the Aesir. The Rg Veda even describes the panis as wolves. ‘Soma, these pressing-stones have called aloud to win thee for our Friend. Destroy the greedy Pani, for a wolf is he.’30 If they are wolves, the panis have every right to call Sarama a sister.
More conventionally, the panis have been identified with the Phoenicians. If this is true, no complicated metaphors need be associated with the Sarama–pani dialogue. Dogs have been domesticated, more by the asuras and panis than by the devas. However, Indra and the devas also have dogs and such dogs have been assured of food by Indra and the devas in return for tasks assigned to them. Sarama is one such dog. But all said and done, dogs continue to be more identified with asuras and panis.
Be that as it may, Sarama and her children were no strangers to India at the time of the Rg Veda. Indeed, the Satpatha Brahmana (13/1/2/9) also mentions dogs being sacrificed, in connection with the horse sacrifice.
Before leaving the vedas, one should note the identification of the vedic Rudra with dogs. For instance, the Atharva Veda Samhita (11/2/30), written after the Rg Veda, mentions Rudra, surrounded by dogs with large mouths (mahasp
yebhayah shvabhaya), dogs that make a terrible noise and dogs that are saluted. The Yajur Veda (16/28) also describes Rudra as Shvapati, or lord of dogs. Namah shvabhyah ca shvapatibhayay vah namah. ‘I bow in obeisance before the lord of the dogs. And also, I bow in obeisance to the dogs.’ Hence, till the vedic period at least, there was no negative association. It is not true that vedic Hinduism frowned on dogs and looked down on them. When and how did this change?
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Sarama’s Children in the Epics
The vedas confirm that dogs were known and were not regarded as terribly bad or evil entities, animals that should be shunned. As we have said before, that is roughly 2000 to 1500 BCE. We now turn to the Ramayana, that is, the Valmiki Ramayana. Dating the Valmiki Ramayana is even more contentious than dating the Rg Veda, especially because the Valmiki Ramayana may have gone through many different versions and may have had more than one author. However, a date of around 1000 BCE seems safe enough.
Dogs were certainly not common in the land that the Ramayana describes. Take for example, descriptions of the two major urban centres—Ayodhya and Lanka. We are given a detailed description of Ayodhya in Adi Kanda and we are told that there were horses and elephants in Ayodhya. Descriptions of Lanka in Sundara Kanda are no different and no less detailed. However, there is no mention of dogs at all. Similarly, in Ayodhya Kanda, when Bharata returns to an Ayodhya from which Rama has been banished, there are inauspicious signs like cats and owls wandering around. Unlike similar descriptions in later puranas, there is no mention of dogs at all. Similarly, in Aranya Kanda, Rama is about to demolish the demon Khara and his army. There are inauspicious signs for the demon army. Jackals, crows and vultures are making a terrible racket. Nothing is said about dogs. No different when Rama kills Maricha in Aranya Kanda. Sita has been abducted. As an inauspicious sign, Rama hears jackals howling. Nothing is said about dogs. In Yuddha Kanda also, at the time of the war, inauspicious sounds are made by crows, eagles, vultures and jackals. Not by dogs. In Sundara Kanda, we are given descriptions of hideous rakshasis (female demons). Some have animal heads, like the heads of boars, deer, tigers, buffaloes, goats, jackals, elephants, cows, pigs, camels or donkeys. No dogs again.
There is a most interesting passage in Ayodhya Kanda. This is when Bharata and Shatrughna are with their maternal uncle and grandfather in Kekaya, and unfortunate events having transpired in Ayodhya, Vashishtha has sent messengers to Kekaya to request Bharata and Shatrughna to return to Ayodhya. The king of Kekaya gives various presents to Bharata, including two thousand gold coins and sixteen hundred horses. And an unspecified number of dogs are also given as gifts. This shloka deserves to be quoted in its entirety:1 ‘Antahpurehatisambrddhan vyaghraviryavalopaman damshtrayuktam mahakayam shunashchopayanam dodou.’ Loosely translated, this means the following. ‘Dogs were given. These dogs were gigantic and had sharp teeth. They were as powerful as tigers.’ And perhaps most important of all, ‘they were bred in the palace’, although one cannot quite say that these were pet dogs or house dogs. Kekaya was in the northwest, in what is now the Punjab. And from there, the dogs were sent as gifts to Ayodhya, which, let us assume, was in the region that is now Uttar Pradesh. Dogs perhaps came to the core of the Ramayana territory from elsewhere. But they were not unknown. They were common in the northwest of India, but they were not common in the Gangetic plain. However, there are references to dogs in the Ramayana.
In Aranya Kanda, there is a description of Sita among the rakshasis in Ravana’s palace and Sita is compared to a single deer, separated from a herd of deer, and now surrounded by dogs (mrgayuthaparibhrastam mrgim shvabhirivavritam).2 The context does not make it clear whether these were wild dogs or domesticated dogs used by humans for hunting. Another interesting snippet occurs in Sundara Kanda. Hanuman has discovered Sita in Lanka, but does not yet know whether this is Sita or not. He tries to match the jewellery she is wearing with descriptions of Sita’s ornaments given by Rama. And in this list of ornaments is a pair of earrings named shadamshtra (teeth of a dog). If a dog was such a lowly creature, why name an earring after the teeth of a dog?
Thus, from the Valmiki Ramayana, the overall impression is that dogs were not that common. But they were not regarded as inauspicious or evil either. Perhaps the only exception to this principle is the idea of dog meat being taboo. In Adi Kanda, Vishvamitra cursed Vashishtha’s sons that they would be reborn as outcastes or scavengers and live on dog meat for seven hundred births.
In fact, in the Valmiki Ramayana, there is one particular instance where a dog is outright clever. This is the only proper dog story in the Valmiki Ramayana. This is from the Uttara Kanda and is a section that is believed to be a later interpolation.3
After returning to Ayodhaya, Rama began to rule. Vashishtha, Kashyapa, other sages and advisers and ministers helped him rule well. Every day, Lakshmana’s job was to go outside the court, to check to see if there was anyone with a complaint. Normally, there were no complainants. Rama’s rule was such that there was no disease. The earth yielded plenty of food. Evil disappeared, fearing the king’s wrath. Such was Rama’s rule that there was no evil at all.
On one such day, Lakshmana found that there was no one outside the court. ‘Go back and look again,’ said Rama. Lakshmana returned to the main gate and found a dog barking away.
‘What do you want?’ Lakshmana asked the dog. ‘If you have something to tell the king, come with me. Don’t be scared.’
‘I can’t come with you,’ said the dog. ‘Dogs are not allowed inside temples, palaces and the houses of brahmanas. Those are the residing places of gods like Agni, Indra, Surya and Vayu. We aren’t allowed there, because we are an inferior species.’
But Rama gave special permission to the dog to approach the court. The dog had marks of a beating on its head.
‘What is your problem, dog?’ Rama asked. ‘Don’t be scared.’
‘A brahmana named Sarvarthasiddha was looking for alms and has beaten me without any provocation,’ replied the dog.
On Rama’s orders, the brahmana was summoned. ‘Why have you beaten this dog?’ asked Rama.
‘I was hungry and was roaming around, looking for alms,’ replied the brahmana. ‘This dog was on the road, blocking my way. I asked him to move, but he didn’t. So I beat him with my stick,’ replied Sarvarthasiddha. ‘I am guilty of rage. Please punish me. If I am punished, I will no longer have to fear about going to hell.’
Rama consulted his advisers and ministers like Bhrigu, Angirasa, Kutsa, Kashyapa and Vashishtha. Their advice was unanimous. According to the shastras, a brahmana should not be punished.
‘But you have promised,’ said the dog. ‘You promised to set right my complaint. Please make this brahmana the kulapati of Kalanjara.’
Strictly speaking, a kulapati was a person who fed ten thousand sages and studied under them. Perhaps, addiction to power and wealth corrupted the kulapati system, so that becoming a kulapati became a curse rather than a boon. Kalinjara or Kalanjara is in Bundelkhand.
Anyway, this seemed fair enough, because Sarvarthasiddha was not exactly being punished. He was sent off to Kalanjara, riding on an elephant. ‘You have given him a boon instead of punishing him,’ remarked the ministers.
‘Not quite,’ responded Rama. ‘Ask this dog.’
On Rama’s instructions, the dog related his story. ‘I used to be the kulapati of Kalanjara,’ said the dog. ‘I served gods and brahmanas and spent my time ensuring everyone’s welfare. I ate after everyone else had eaten. I shared my property with everyone else. But having been a kulapati, I am now destined to this dog’s life. That brahmana is cruel and quick to anger. He will now become a kulapati and the next forty-nine of his descendants will spend their lives in hell. No one should accept the post of a kulapati. If you want to make certain that an individual and his friends, sons and animals go to hell, make him a kulapati.’
Having related his story, the dog went off to the holy city of Varanasi, resolving to starve himself to death th
ere and thus perform penance. As we will see later, both Kalanjara and Varanasi have associations with Bhairava.
The Mahabharata is more than three times as long as the Valmiki Ramayana. Understandably, there are many more references to dogs in the Mahabharata. And we also need to figure out whether the Ramayana is older than the Mahabharata. But this is an impossible question to answer. In popular belief, the incidents of the Ramayana occurred before those of the Mahabharata. However, crudities described in the Mahabharata do not occur in the Ramayana; the Ramayana is more refined. That apart, geographical knowledge and expansion are more in the Ramayana. Perhaps it is safe to say that the core incident of the Mahabharata occurred before the core incident of the Ramayana. But in its present form, the Mahabharata was composed after the Ramayana. Apart from the length, there is yet another reason why dogs should be more common in the Mahabharata than in the Ramayana. Dogs were known and bred in what is today the Punjab. So the Ramayana suggests and one should not forget the Indus Valley civilization. The Mahabharata’s terrain is closer to the Punjab than the Ramayana’s. And indeed, there were certain things that householders were supposed to do. And these duties included placing food on the ground in mornings and evenings, food meant for dogs, chandalas and birds. This rite was known as Vaishvadeva.4
In a way, the Mahabharata starts with a dog when Souti tells us the story of Janmejaya.5 Janmejaya and his three brothers were about to perform a yajna in Kurukshetra, when a dog turned up. Janmejaya’s brothers beat up the dog and the dog (perhaps a puppy) went running and crying to its mother. The mother dog came to Janmejaya and demanded to know why her son had been beaten up, even though he had committed no crime. Janmejaya and his brothers were silent, as they had no defence. Thereupon, the bitch cursed Janmejaya that a sudden misfortune would befall him. There is also the Ekalavya story in Adi Parva. The Pandava princes went on a hunt, and a servant accompanied them with dogs. Hence, dogs were used for hunting. One of these dogs wandered to where Ekalavya was and noticing his dark skin, deerskins, dirty body and matted hair, began to bark at him. Ekalavya shut the dog up by shooting seven arrows into its mouth, and thus made quiet, the dog dashed back to the Pandava princes. In Sabha Parva, Shishupala is killed after Krishna is worshipped, and Shishupala and the other kings object to Krishna being worshipped. Bhishma tells Yudhishthira that there is nothing to worry about. The kings objecting to Krishna’s worship are just like dogs barking around a sleeping lion. In Vana Parva, the sage Markandeya comes to visit Yudhishthira and mentions the king of Kashi and Karusha, who had turned so evil that people referred to him as a mad dog.6 Sabha Parva also has a stray mention about Sarama worshipping Brahma in his court.7
