THE CREATIVE WORD

N. Padmanabha Rao

Someone holding an important position unguardedly makes a statement which is promptly reported by the journalists. Pat comes a stout denial of his having made such a statement. ‘I didn’t say that, I didn’t mean it. It was quoted out of context. It was deliberately twisted only to malign me. It is mischievous and motivated. It is character assassination’.

We wonder what it is all about. Is it because we have lost our capacity to hear properly? Or is it because we cannot say what we want to? The result is a controversy. More people enter the fray and it assumes alarming proportions. People start taking sides and the controversy takes dangerous political and communal overtones. And the battle line will be drawn, leading to mindless confrontation.

This is only the symptom of a deeper malaise that is eating into the national character. Words often fail to convey the meanings resulting in a communication gap. This failure of effective communication can have very far-reaching consequences. We wish we had the power of silent communion which an ideal guru had:

Chitram vatatarormule vriddah sihyah gururyuva

Gurostu mounam vyakhyanam sishyastu china samsayah

It is time we reminded ourselves of the fact that we are the products of a culture whose roots are embedded in a phono-logocentric system of the Vedic times. It is remarkable that our ancestors maintained the purity of word, its meaning, its pronunciation, and perfected a system by which the spoken word was transmitted through centuries without any trace of distortion. The oral tradition was best suited to preserve the purity of the word. Not that our ancestors did not have the script to record language, as is argued by some western linguists. For the western man there was no script perhaps till the third century B.C. Poor Homer could not write. He was blind.

The western concept of language is radically different from ours. It seems that their linguistic paraphernalia is not adequate to comprehend an extremely complex linguistic system perfected by our ancients. The components of western linguistic system consists of only syllables and stresses or accents, which can be shown on a printed page. In some Middle-Eastern languages, there is swara also. Let us look at the ancient Vedic linguistic proposition. Taittariya Upanishad opens with a chapter called “Siksha Valli” which is only one line in Length:

Varnah swara maatraa balam saama santaanah.

Varna is letter, swara is the modulation in tone (udaatta, anudaatta and swarita); maatra is the time taken to pronounce a letter; saama is the tonal steadiness. About the last one, santaana, I have not come across a comprehensive explanation of the term. Adishankara in his BHASHYA simply says that santaana is samhita. My own surmise is that santaana or samhita may refer to some principle of profound linguistic organization with four components; purvarupa, uttararupa, sandhi and sandhaana. For example, one Mahasamhita is: the guru is purvarupa, the student uttararupa, knowledge is sandhi and learning is sandhaana. This kind of organization may refer to some patterning of words and meanings.

I have gone a little deeper into the area of linguistics only to highlight that a fantastically sophisticated linguistic system was passed on to us and to reflect sadly on the deterioration that has set in, in respect of usage and pronunciation of words.

In Manu’s DHARMASHASTRA it is stated that the creation of the universe was followed immediately by the naming of every object created. According to the Bible, God said, “Let there be light”, and there was light overall. Creation is the outcome of the naming of God’s will. According to the ancient Hindu view, the origin of the universe is pranavam, the sound of OM. The sound of OM resolved itself into different manifestations which are called panchabhutas. It is important to note here the tremendous creative power which the word and its sound have. Every object in turn is given a name, a word to refer to it. Every name and the object denoted by it go together. Then it should logically follow that the word and the object are one and the same, with a common origin. If the primal word OM had so much of creative power in its sound, the other words born of that must have been endowed with a power of the same kind. A proper control over the sounds of a word should be able to produce control over the object referred to by it. There must be some vital connection between the name and the object. The name when properly articulated must be able to recall, recreate and realise the object. This is the mantric power, the creative power of the word. To acquire this power are needed great saadhana, upaasana and dhyaana.

There is a mantra in Sreesukta which reads:

Saktumiva titauna punanto yatra dheera manasa

Vaacharmakrata atraasakhaaya sakhyaani jayante

Bhadraishaam lakshmeernihi – taadivaachi

Just as flour is filtered through a sieve in order

To remove all impurities, so words are to be filtered

Through the mind by a dheera. Then even enemies turn

Friends. Or whatever is hostile becomes beneficent

Lakshmi stays with him and gives protection to him.

What we understand from this mantra is that the mind should act as a sieve in order that expression becomes pure and chaste. It is important that the words we use are brought under mental discipline to prevent any impure or faulty expression. A kind of verbal culture is recommended. Any faculty or unrestrained expression is fraught with dangerous consequences. And the great oral tradition was sustained by this verbal culture.

The sound of a word is as important as its meaning. With the loss of the oral tradition, we have lost the capacity to feel fully the sound of the word. In his inimitable style Kalidasa describes the power the sound of words:

Ramayaani Veekshya madhuraamscha nisamya sadbaan

Paryutsukhobhavati yatsukhitopi jantuh

Tatchetasa smarati noonamabodhapurvam

Bhavasthirani jananaantara sauhrudaani.

Dushyanta hears the song sung by Hamsapadika in the V Act of SHAKUNTALAM. The musical quality of the words of the song is such that it pierces through the layers of his mind and reminds him of his associations in his past lives. Dushyanta is under the curse pronounced by Durvasa. He is in a state of forgetfulness as far as Shankuntala is concerned. The song stirs his sub-conscience. He becomes aware of a sweet association as if it belonged to a previous life. The point to be noted here is that the musical quality of words can pierce through the thick layer of forgetfullness caused by Durvasa’s curse. He becomes aware, however vaguely, of some intimacy he had developed. This awareness is brought about by the musical quality and power of words. In fact, Kalidasa uses music as a kind of symbol. Earlier at the beginning of the play, there is a reference to music.

Tavaasmi geetaraagene haarina prasabham hrutah

Esha raajeva dushyantah saarangenaatiramhasa

A dramatic manner in which Dushyanta is introduced by the Suthradhaara after he listens to a song. He says:

Aho raagabadha chittavirttiraalikita iva sarvato rangah

(The audience appears as if it were painted in a picture,

Its feelings being riveted to your melody.)

He forgets the very purpose of his coming there, namely to introduce the play to the audience. This forgetfulness is caused by the melodious song. Then he suddenly remembers and says.

I was led away by the lavishing melody of your song,

Like the King Dushyanta here by the fleeting antelope.

Here music, geetaraaga, like saaranga, leads him away. Led away by the deer, Dushyanta meets Shakuntala. The word raga means both melody and passion. Dushyanta’s passionate involvement with Shakuntala is already suggested. But music in a later context stirs deep notes in him. It stirs him into an awareness. This is the power of vak, sabda and artha (word, sound and meaning).

Let us examine another stanza written by Kalidasa, the opening lines of KUMARASAMBHAVAM.

Vaagarthaaviva sampruktau vaagartha pratipattaye

Jagatah pitarau vande paarvatiparameswarau.

(Kalidasa speaks of the marriage of word and meaning which is used as a simile to underline the perfect harmony that exists between Parvati and Shiva, the universal parents.) The creative effort involved in bringing about a union of word and meaning should produce an effect that is as powerful and strong as the offspring of the universal parents, Kumara, the killer of the demons. Implied in this simile is the suggestion of a tremendous force inherent in creative activity. This is possible only when there is proper union of word and meaning. Creative activity is identified with conjugal felicity of a divine nature. With all the aesthetic equipment that Kalidasa has at his command, he produces a poem which is the celebration of the birth of Kumara. The poem is recreated every time the sensitive reader responds to the verbal orchestration. The poem is born with every reading.

A poem is a verbal construct with meaning. With an independent existence of its own, it invites to be recreated by every reader. Like the union of vak and artha, there should be another union of the reader and the poem, out of which comes the aesthetic pleasure. The poem is reborn, recreated. It is the magic of the creative word.

A word could give birth to God, as said by Hopkins. In his poem Wreck of the DEUTSCHLAND, he describes a nun who is about to die in a shipwreck. She cries out “O, Chirist, come quickly”. This is how Hopkins describes:

But here was heart – throe, birth of a brain

Word, that heard and kept thee and uttered thee outright.

Here was another Mary who gave birth to the word ‘Christ’ and found salvation. Christ is recreated, reborn for her. This is the creative power of the word. We could also cite the creative power that Draupadi’s prayer had in a simiar situation of utter helplessness. Another instance of the creative power of the word is in BRIHADARANYAKA UPANISHAD. Prajapati has three types of progeny: devas, manushyas and asuras. When all of them approach Prajapati for his message, they hear the sound DA, which is understood differently by each of the three as Data, Dayadhavam and Damyata: (give, sympathise and control) – a very meaningful and purposeful response of the hearer to the spoken word.

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