C. P. AND TAMIL
P. N. APPUSWAMI
It
is difficult to write with restraint about. C. P. All valuable judgments tend
to turn into admiration; and moderation seems to take the bit between its teeth
and bolt. He was born great, achieved more greatness, and had still more
greatness thrust upon him.
Ancestry,
opportunity, talent and industry–all contributed to make him what he was. Genes
are unassailable proofs against the modern misconceived, misdirected and
lop-sided, notions of socialism. C. P. provides another kind of disproof.
The
other day, at the inauguration of the C. P. Centenary Celebrations, many spoke,
but they missed a few aspects. He is such a combination of brilliances that,
unless you look at him all angles, you are likely to miss a few of them. His
knowledge and scholarship in Tamil literature was an aspect which none of them
touched upon, and I wish to touch upon it here.
Most
people know of his knowledge of English in speaking and writing, and would have
had a fair understanding of its range and depth. They know too that he liked to
embellish and emphasise his statements by
interlarding them with French and Sanskrit quotations. They could check his
knowledge of Sanskrit, but of his French they could only wonder, for, generally,
they knew no French. His approach was refreshingly fresh, and often daring. His
lectures on ‘Compromise’, ‘Disobey’ and ‘Humour in
Sanskrit Drama’, addressed to student-audiences were thought provoking.
Disobeying tyrant grammarians, who mercilessly, joylessly, put their crushing
foot on gossamer poetry, is a mode of thought which should be cultivated. E. S.
Bates, the authority on translation, has said the same thing much later, and
thus: “The technically-minded man is evil in all his ways. Unemployment amongst
grammarians needs to be raised to 101 per cent.”
Very
few, however, know how accomplished C. P. was in Tamil. He was a born Tamil,
and Tamil was the first language he learnt. It was bone of his bones and flesh
of his flesh. He could not, and did not, ignore it, nor undervalue it; it was
rather the other way about; but of this a little later. I have heard him on a
famous occasion speak in Tamil, and effectively; and on several occasions in
Tamil and English. I do not think however that he ever wrote seriously in
Tamil, though he kept up, spasmodically, his interest in Tamil.
In
1919 our country was in a turmoil. Gandhiji had called
for a boycott of courts and councils, and for mass civil disobedience. Obedience
was in our blood as much as the red and white corpuscles were. We had been
enjoined to bow down to the innumerable gods, to the priests, kings,
chieftains, parents, elders of all degrees, and even to petty men in brief
authority. Disobedience was so very new, and perhaps utterly wrong. A political
conference was held at Tirunelveli, and S. Srinivasa Aiyangar, who had resigned his Advocate-Generalship, was
presiding. Non-co-operation was the major theme. The president did a balanced
survey, and managed some tight rope-walking. “Non-co-operation is difficult,
but you are the descendants of Rishis” he said.
However he advised non-co-operation. He spoke in English. So did Mrs. Besant
who argued powerfully against it. The audience was dazed. C. P. got up to speak
and began in English, but the audience shouted, “Tamil, Tamil.” He looked
round, judged the temper of the audience, and, at once, and without any sign of
impatience, switched on to North-Arcotian Tamil, with
occasional Sanskrit and English words to lend support. He did not falter, or
stumble, and drove his points home. The audience began to totter, though it had
come with pre-formed ideas. His was a great speech, logical, thoughtful and
reasoned. How V. S Srinivasa Sastri followed him, supporting him, and speaking
in Tamil; and how
C.
P. was as much interested in Tamil philosophy and religion, as in the language
itself. On request, he wrote an Introduction in English to Sir Ponnambalam. Arunachalam’s translation of Tiruvacakam into
English. It shows that he had read the original, and had analysed its contents-acts requiring a good deal of mastery
of the language, and of the philosophy of Manicka-vacaka,
the inspired Saint. I am not trying to list, but only to illustrate.
Another
instance to note is the speech which he made when he inaugurated the Kamban Memorial on 1st February 1959. A slightly condensed
version of it can be seen in Essays on Kamban (pages
108 to 119) published by Bharati Tamil Sangam,
I
am not a Tamil scholar, not one who is competent with any felicity and mastery
in that language and its genius, to do justice to that great poet. On the other
hand it so happened that after many wanderings outside the Tamil language, when
I came back to study it, it was Kamban's Ramayana that
was my first objective. With a Tamil Dictionary, I studied it word by word. And
so, I can claim to have studied Kamban’s work with
meticulous care more than once, and as a humble student of that great poet, I
possess some right to speak on this occasion.
He
has applied his critical, analytic and synthetic mind to his study of Kamban, and a few remarks of his are quoted to show his
depth, and the comparative nature of his study. Here are some quotations:
“Kamban has in his work, definitely made it (the Sarayu) a
“Above
all, Kamban’s glory consists in this, that he has
made a most moving human story of what in Valmiki is austere and stern. The
verbal felicity, the alliterative mastery, and rhythmic tilt of Kamban’s poetry stamp it as one of the masterpieces of
human art.” (Pp. 113-114)
“One
of the things which may be remembered is that even in Sanskrit,
there is not much which can be compared with certain aspects of Tamil
literature and philosophy.
“In
the Tamil land, there has always been a combination of a life fully lived
combined with spiritual endeavour. War, love, agriculture, husbandry, and trade
were given as importance which the northern classics do not ordinarily give.”
(P.118)
C.
P. did not confine himself to the middle period–to the Saints and Kamban. He kept himself up-to-date, and he wrote to me that
he read my ‘Ten-tuli’ at one sitting. He also helped me by writing an
introduction to ‘X-rays’ (Eks.Katirikai–Tamil)
a joint work of J. P. Manikkam and myself, which was awarded
a first prize by the Madras University but could find nobody willing to publish
it until the Madras Government through one of its agencies, ultimately did,
twenty odd years later.
C.
P. also went back to Sangam literature (of about two millenia ago). He released at the Sastri Hall, Mylapore, gaily decorated with Konrai
(laburnum) flowers, S. Rajam’s (less than cost price) edition of Akananuru, well edited, beautifully printed,
and beautifully got-up. He made a memorable speech about ancient Sangam literature, of Rajam’s (nurray’s) great interest and work in it, and of the Tamil
public’s general apathy to both. The situation is better now. Yet much more should be done. Rajam has spent lakhs of rupees
on a plan of his for the preparation of
“Historical Tamil Dictionary.” The preliminary work of preparing indexes
of words (with their Contexts and their meanings) of the classics from the beginning up to the 14th century has
been completed, separately for each
work, and with master-indices. It is a stupendous piece of work, and one
dedicated, and luckily a wealthy man, with a great deal of love and dedication,
is doing it. At the time C. P. spoke Rajam’s
literary volumes (about thirty) had been projected and were in various stages
of preparation. But C. P.’s point that the Tamil classics should receive more
attention from the public deserves thoughtful attention.
C.
P. told me that he had written poetry in English and French. He said he would
read his verses to me sometime; but it was an unfulfilled wish on his part, and
an unrealised hope in mine. I hope his archives have
them.
Rare combination
of qualities
“One
sure test of greatness is the combination of qualities rarely found together in a single individual. C. P. is as
at home with abstract thought as with concrete reality such as a plan, a bridge
or a housing scheme. He can sore high with a flight of poetic imagination or
descend to the heart of dull, drab routine like looking after his luggage. He
has equal mastery over the intricacies of a complex administrative problem as
with organising a social function or a dinner party.
A sloka of Kalidasa in the Raghuvamsa aptly describes him:
His
intellect
is equal to his personality,
His
culture is worthy of his intellect,
His
exertion is worthy of his culture,
And
his success is worthy of his success.”
–K. BALASUBRAHMANYA AIYER