BY PROF. RAYAPROLU SUBBA RAO¹

I now go to another poem of the day, the Parijatapaharanam of Timmana, "The theft of the flower, Parijata"–a flower that never fades nor loses its fragrance, keeps perpetually fresh, gives warmth in the cold season and cool comfort in summer. The poem, for all outward purposes, appears to have been taken from the Bhagavat Purana and elaborated as a classical poem. But, it is, in fact, a very clever device to depict the harem of Sri Krishna Deva Raya, as it is also an earnest attempt to bring about reconciliation between the King and a Queen. The King had two wives, one of whom, for some reason, felt insulted by the King, whose visits to her palace became rarer and rarer. This cold treatment by the King, tradition tells us, was the outcome of the Queen’s indiscreet behaviour on one occasion. Whatever the cause, there was deep misunderstanding between the King and his royal consort. The poet, who undertook the delicate task of reconciling them, hit upon an old Puranic story of Sri Krishna which suited the purpose.

The story, briefly told, runs thus:

Sri Krishna and Rukmini, his Queen, are playing chess. The divine Sage, Narada, comes to them, his violin making sweet sounds to the touch of the passing breeze. He brings a ‘parijata’ flower and gives it to Sri Krishna. Sri Krishna thanks the sage for the gift of the flower, and decorates Rukmini’s hair with it. Narada speaks of the supernatural qualities of the flower, and leaves them. A maid of Satyabhama, another wife of Sri Krishna, happens to be present while this is taking place in Rukmini’s palace. The maid goes to Queen Satya and narrates the events in a way that rouses all Satyabhama’s jealousy. Then Satya feels insulted, and her feeling of inferiority sinks deep into her soul. Satya is depicted to be an idol of beauty, conscious of her natural grace and gifts, and very sensitive to others’ reactions in all matters. Such being her personality, she very soon develops the idea of her being neglected, and the pain thereof she can no longer bear in silence. She is ill, and the news of her illness reaches Sri Krishna. He hastens to the palace of Satya, sees her in a state of painful prostration born of a sense of wounded pride. Sri Krishna, realising the situation, falls at her feet as a lover asking forgiveness. But Satya brushes aside his head with her foot. Nothing daunted, Sri Krishna consoles her with the promise of bringing and planting the very ‘parijata’ tree in her garden. This is the crisis in this love poem, which, though it appears mild, has all the tragic possibilities of separation and is therefore of great tension and interest. The folly of Krishna Deva Raya’s queen is alleged to have been similar. The Puranic story and the private incident in the King’s harem bear such marvellous similarity that the poet hit upon it and set it in a suggestive work of art. But what does he do? He throws upon the canvas the lovable Sri Krishna–a husband of several wives–and reveals in flashes the resourcefulness of a lover and the possible jealousies and misunderstandings among the ladies of the harem.

Here again, as in Peddana, we face the picture of the times, the beautiful palaces overlooking the rivers, their surroundings that unfold the pomp and pleasure, the culture and tastes of the Andhras of Vijayanagar. One noticeable feature in these descriptions is the artificial hillock-abodes, with halls inbuilt and well-furnished. The cultured aristocracy seems to have used these hillocks as pleasure resorts. Timmana left us a number of word-pictures, and the one of a pomegranate tree is strikingly natural. The ‘anar’ tree is young, with thick green branches stretching all round. The parrots, singing and dancing, flutter hither and thither. They sit on the branches and break with their red beaks the ripe fruits on the tree. The juicy seeds like blood-red diamonds fall pell-mell on the ground.

Coming to that arresting situation of the poem, when Satya kicks aside her husband’s head, the poet defends her action, saying, in a seemingly solemn tone, that young wives, offended by the guilty conduct of their husbands, are not expected to conform to rules of etiquette. The development of the situation is both spontaneous and romantic, and the reader is lost in wonder at the poet’s original treatment of a situation in which only Satyabhama’s pardonable peevishness, her real love for Sri Krishna, Sri Krishna’s complete understanding of the human mind, and his ability not to stand on dignity when the moment demands tolerance, save the poem from banality and give the narration of the incident its well-merited place of honour in all Telugu literature.

It is said that, when this poem was read in Sri Krishna Raya’s Court, the King, cultured and high-souled as he was, forgave the Queen and forgot her fault. Thus was restored harmony in the delicate but disturbed relations of royal love. The exclusive gifts of Timmana lay in understanding and unveiling the emotions and moods of lovers.

Let us leave these two leading poets and turn to the works of Sri Krishna Deva Raya himself. He is said to have written two works in Sanskrit and one in Telugu. The Telugu work is known by the name ‘Amukta Malyada.’ It means, literally, ‘presentation of a garland once worn.’

The story is picked up from the Vaishnavite lore, added to and altered, and fashioned into a classical poem. The work consists of about 4,000 lines, and is uneven in the distribution of its cantoes. A definite religious atmosphere pervades the poem; but the fifth and sixth cantoes contain pure poetry of a high order, while the fourth canto exhibits the extent of the King’s knowledge of the fine arts and positive sciences like biology, etc. Further, his piercing observation and wide sympathy find free expression in this work of his. Although the work contains a lot of beautiful poetry and original thought, it is not popular, because the discussion of Vaishnavite theology is disproportionately lengthy and highly technical and ill-suited to a poem. The range of his imagination is very extensive and daringly original. As such, when pressed and packed in reckless phrases, it often becomes a hard nut to crack. Preoccupied with manifold problems of State, he had neither leisure nor patience perhaps for the slow process of elimination, which is necessary for the production of finished writing. He does not wait to select a word. It was presumably not possible for him, for his thought must have moved fast. That harmony of words and that music of soft consonants which make a phrase sweet and a stanza charming are generally rare. But vigour and vitality are abundant.

Now let me mention some of the scenes and situations the emperor-poet had chosen and depicted with characteristic skill and ability. First and foremost among his descriptions is that of the rainy season. I may say without fear of contradiction that it is unique. The description is not of the rainy season which the few who are high-born and well-to-do enjoy from the balconies of their palaces. It is of the season as it affects the villages and the common-folk.

The Vaishnavite women go from house to house to fetch a few pieces of half-burnt wood, and detach some straw from their thatched roofs to prepare fire, and the smoke fills the whole house, the wet fuel does not easily catch fire, the fire is not enough to cook both rice and vegetable, guests come, the prepared meal runs short, the housewife, with swollen eyes and steaming face, disgusted, tears her garment, soaks it in oil and puts it in the hearth and re-starts cooking. And the peasant women, in their straw ‘rain-coats’ carry food to their husbands working in the far-off fields, in knee-deep mud and pouring rain.

Next we come to Surana. Surana is a great poet who had the courage to transcend the time-honoured conventions in literature, and thus brought about a new orientation. His works are a fair index of his times. He was the first who brought into Telugu the free-play which is termed as double entendre, that is, making a phrase capable of yielding two meanings.

Surana, like other poets, was faced with the dictum of Sanskrit protagonists that vernaculars were not capable of double entendre and Sanskrit alone had the requisite potentialities. Surana produced a Telugu poem that could simultaneously convey the stories of Ramayana and Mahabharata, and silenced the opposition. But he was not satisfied with the performance because his mother-tongue revealed further possibilities of her latent strength and beauty to him. He ventured upon an entirely new experiment of composing a poem, whose subject matter was his own creation. It goes by the name of ‘Kala Poornodaya.’ Though he was not a revolutionist in literature, he was certainly a pioneer who brought fresh lustre and unfamiliar beauty to his work of art. The work consists of a few episodes, amongst which one bears close resemblance to Shakespeare’s "Comedy of Errors." It must be mentioned that the scenes and situations were those of aristocratic society and highly cultured circles, not the life that obtains in common society.

This poem gives us an insight into the times with regard to witchcraft and its curious application in a variety of ways in society. ‘Kala Poornodaya’ contains considerable reference to music and how its technique was practised and perfected. People seem to have nursed a fascination for the art; especially with the cultured it became an obsession. Another feature of social life which is convincingly portrayed is the freedom which women enjoyed.

Of all the works of Surana his "Prabhavati Pradyumnam" is the best. It is again here we find how the creative genius moves far beyond the bounds of realm or race. "Prabhavati Pradyumnam" can be compared to "Romeo and Juliet," but in the Telugu story adventure and adversity lead to happy union.

Viewing his works also as faithful literary record of the Vijayanagar epoch, we find interesting material, worthy of study and reflection. He gives us a situation which indicates the existence of a play very similar to polo in those days. Not the whole match is described, but we find the hero playing a ball from horse-back. The ball is hit along the field and the horse gallops to overtake it. He then shoots the ball high up into the air and keeps constantly hitting it with his bat. The ball dances in the air indefinitely and comes down only to be shot up again. Thorough knowledge of horsemanship is revealed in the description which is very lively and full of vigour.

During the Great War, we read that pigeons were used to send despatches. Four hundred years back, the Vijayanagar rulers trained bird-messengers as part of their espionage system. Surana narrates, in close detail, how a bird was employed as a sweet messenger between the lover and the beloved. He describes the clever ways of these birds and how they evade mingling with other birds while they are on duty, and how they would not give any trace of their mission even in the face of death.

In the story, the lover and the beloved belonged to rival houses, and so venomous was the spirit of vengeance that even ‘the green grass would burn to ashes between the two towns.’ All communication was prohibited, and any slight infringement of the order meant death. But yet there seemed to be many ways and means devised and perfected. The town of the beloved was quite impregnable to fire and steel. But a street beggar, who knew dancing and knew remarkable physical feats, entered the city by the main gate freely and attracted children by his queer behaviour and humorous gestures, and finally entered the palace, seemingly to entertain the Court circles, but really to study the plan of the building and possibilities of entrance. Quickly enough, the whole scheme matured, with utmost skill and secrecy, and the object was realised. And love conquered hate.

Before leaving this great epoch of Telugu literature, I shall indicate briefly the causes that made poetic expression so delicate, passionate and flower-like, almost effeminate. Vaishnavism was the State religion of the Vijayanagara Empire. It gave a tremendous impetus to the poetic imagination, particularly of the extraordinarily romantic variety. The conception of ‘Leela’ between ‘Prakriti’ and ‘Purusha’ is irresistibly charming. The soul longing for the super-soul is a fascinating theme, and no poet could resist it. This affected the technique of the poets. Music made great strides too. It was the hobby of the cultured and of the aristocratic society. Painting, too, came into prominence, and the great kings patronised it. So it was a triangular fight between painting, music and poetry to catch abstract beauty and put it into tune or into colour or into verse. Only in poetry, it has been claimed, the melody of music, the colours of painting, as well as the quivers of the heart are successfully caught and given life in art. These extraneous influences were to some extent responsible for the importing of effeminacy into the poetic style of this period latterly. And poetry, in some measure, lost its strength and its appeal.