Jahajee Desi

[NavyaShastra] Jayadeva and Gita Govinda

104. Jayadeva and Gita Govinda Thanks to the Bhagavata Purana, the Radha-Krishna love became as much a facet of the Hindu world as Vedic chanting and Upanishadic aphorisms. Indeed, it is a more tangible _expression of the worship of the Divine. True, it is intrinsic primarily to the Vaishnava tradition, but then practically every universal aspect of the Hindu world is anchored to one sectarian school or another. Countless poets and singers have verbalized this allegory of God-Human bond. Perhaps the foremost among them was Jayadeva (Joydeb), the master who wrote in Sanskrit, but whose birthplace has made Bengal count him as her own. The Guru Granth Sahib of the Sikhs has selections from Jayadeva. Dharani Dhar's 1840 translation of Jayadeva propounded the thesis that Jayadeva was a 12th century poet-saint of Orissa. Other scholars from Orissa have reiterated this in recent times. Needless to say, the poet's greatness is neither enhanced nor diminished by who claims him as their own. As per the tradition in Bengal, Jayadeva was born in Kenduli sometime in the 12th century. This modest village in the district of Birbhum has become a place of pilgrimage, for he is venerated in Bengal as divinely inspired. A fair is held here in mid-January every year in his honor, at which many minstrels congregate and bring joy to the people: an instance of experiential religion at its best. The poem that has immortalized Jayadeva is Gita Govinda: spiritually uplifting title to Hindu ears, and sounding drab as the Song of the Cowherd. It is a moving narration of the story of the amours of Krishna and the jealousy of his love-mate Radha. The very first stanza tells us how this love started: meghair meduramambaram vanabhuvah syamastamaladrumair naktam bhirurayam tvameva tadimam radhe griham prapaya ittham nandanide satas chalitayoh pratyedhvakunjadrumam radha-madhavayor jayanti yamunakule rahah kelayah Thick clouds darken the skies above; the woods are somber with tamala trees Nocturnal darkness frightens the lad. Radha, take him to his home, please. Thus spake the herdsman Nanda, prompting the love of Radha and Krishna They strolled in the woods, played in the shades, on the banks of the River Yamuna. [My own rough translation.] As we course through the verses, we read about Krishna frolicking with gopis in vernal splendor, of Radha's frustrations with Krishna's dalliance, her complaints to a confidante; about Krishna's sympathies for Radha, and about his sorrow at the thought that she was upset. One of Radha's female friends describes Radha's torments to Krishna and her interminable pining. Krishna sends a message to the effect that he would be at a certain orchard expecting her arrival. By now Radha has grown very weak; yet, she manages to keep the rendezvous at the appointed moonlight hour. But he doesn't show up. Radha fears he is sporting with some other damsel. Indeed he was, as confirmed by Radha's maid. The abandoned Radha spends a sleepless night of anguish in the woods. When, at crack of dawn, Krishna appears and sits by her feet, she breaks out in rage and orders him to return to his paramours. Krishna leaves; Radha becomes sadder still. Later that evening Krishna returns, and cajoles her back to his affections by recalling their past love plays. Radha's companions urge her to relent and accept him back. After the companions leave, Krishna and Radha get into amorous intimacies. Here we find erotic poetry let loose, not just innuendos of intercourse, but explicit descriptions of sweat of exertion and more. Lines like these could shock readers unaccustomed to such literature. Some classical commentators on Jayadeva's masterpiece went into more explicit descriptions of the Radha-Krishna intimacies. Jayadeva's theme is commonplace but his lyrics are powerful. No translation can do justice to the sculpture of words in the original, with its rhymes, meters and alliterations. It is said that Goethe wasn't satisfied with the English and German translations, and once toyed with the idea of producing his own version. But Sir Edwin Arnold's version is of very high quality. For the non-Vaishnavite, Gita Govinda may be just fine poetry. But much of its essence and power is lost if one fails to see spiritual joy here, or the metaphor that is superimposed on the music. The details strike only the superficial reader as prurient, for there is profound symbolism in the allegory. Radha and Krishna are like jivatman and paramatman, playing hide and seek, as it were, until they merge in rapture. From this perspective, erotic poetry, art, and tantric practice are intrinsic to certain Hindu schools. Jayadeva's classic is also heart-warming music. It has been beautifully choreographed in Odissi and Manipuri modes. It has inspired paintings in Gujarat, Rajastan and other places. Tamil saint-poets have been inspired by it too. Gita Govinda concludes with this thought: "Whatever is delightful as music, whatever is divine, whatever is exquisite in sweet love, whatever is graceful in fine poetry: let the happy and wise learn all these from the songs of Jayadeva whose soul is united with the feet of Narayana." V. V. Raman 20 July, 2005