Characteristics
of Indian Literature
By Prof. AMARNATH GUPTA
A study of the characteristics of Indian Literature
naturally should follow an examination of those aspects of Indian
consciousness, as distinguished from the English consciousness, upon which an
Indian is nurtured from birth upwards, and which, when time comes of making
literature, permeate through it. There was some truth in Rudyard Kipling’s
oft-quoted line, ‘East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall
meet,’ particularly in the earlier part. It is possible for them to meet on a
common ground; eastern literature might be of appeal and perennial source of
charm for the writers and readers in the West, as it really has been, and the
same, without any fear of carping, might be said of western literature. No ban
can ever be imposed upon the actions and interactions of one literature upon
the other. Influences have been so common of the one moulding the other,
directly or indirectly, in recent times. So great sometimes is the preponderance
of the one in the other that only a subtle eye can detect the effect, owing to
the influence of the one upon the other, and not merely a casual similarity.
Despite this contact between two different modes of expression and thought in
Literature, it is nevertheless true that outside infiltration, however great
and diffusive, cannot drown the indigenous characteristics in its flood. On
taking the case of Indian Literatures today we find that though almost all of
them have been moulded in some form or the other by English Literature or the
literatures of other countries through the English translations of their works,
yet the native character of our Literature still continues to shine
resplendently. Whatever we have taken from an alien source we have tried to
make our own. Indians have been from times immemorial extremely adaptable.
Indian genius has always been eclectic. To strike a balance and a compromise,
as the circumstances permitted, without losing their native character had been
a constant feature of Indian life. What then are these characteristics of the
Indian consciousness, which the Indian Literatures retain even up to this day,
in spite of so many inroads from an alien source upon it? Wherein lies the “Indian-ness of the Indians?”
The first and foremost characteristic of Indian consciousness is the widespread belief in Mukti, and in reincarnation. It is a powerful obsession with the Indians. There is nothing like it in western consciousness. A westerner would turn away from it as something strange and unknown. But it happens to be the basic belief of the Indian. It is his life breath. What is not an Indian prepared to sacrifice if he can only attain to this state of highest being, to which all his visible efforts and invisible aspirations are directed? Widows in Indian homes are living examples of self-immolation and denial voluntarily accepted in the resplendent hope, at no remote period, to rise higher from the fetters of life and attain to the free state of the soul, as it should be called. A perpetual obsession with the Indian, this belief colours his whole life.
Very closely attendant upon the Indian’s belief in
Mukti, is his belief in the doctrine of Karma. It is second to the first
only in the determination of his attitude towards life. Man is a portion of
eternal loveliness. Trailing clouds of glory do we come from God who is our
home. We are such and such because we did such and such in the past. Our
actions in a previous birth determine our state in the present. Charitable
deeds are commonly done in the hope of getting a suitable recompense for them
in a future birth. You ask a rich man why he is born rich. The answer readily
forthcoming would be: he is rich because he did noble deeds in a previous
birth. A poor man accumulates the hoard of noble acts here so that they may
stand by him in a future existence in providing him with peace and plenty. Our
deeds follow us from afar, and what we have been, makes us what we are. Such a
belief, as it is generally stated, leads to passivity or a sort of resignation,
which has won for the Indian the doubtful appellation of the “Lotus Eater”. Man
reaps as he has sown. Nothing more than this should he ever hope for. This
preordination is followed by an inaction, which some may consider harmful for
the material progress of a country.
Obedience to authority is another feature of Indian
consciousness. The spirit of defiance, so natural in the West, is unknown in
India. Traditions cling fast. It is difficult to unfetter the ties of
traditions. You challenge, defy and interrogate, and immediately you will have
a stupendous chain of the ancient modes of your country to leash you in
obedience to its general will, even though it may mean your ruination. There
have been many manifestations of the ‘just-flesh’ in recent times. But that has
all been done under the impact of the West. In the spirit of challenge,
wherever it has been visible, you fall upon a plastic having a clear impress of
the stamp of the West upon it.
Other characteristics are, firstly a repudiation of
“I” and “Thou”, disappearance of the egotistic complex, secondly, the absence
of the aesthetic detachment, thirdly, the continual search of the omnipresent
God and the desire of the human soul to become one with Him. The individual
does not count. He is a part of something bigger, which is also stern to
subjugate the individual will. Sacrifice is the ideal. To do good to others is
the beau ideal of human life. Individual will is subordinated to a
higher will. There is a recognition that man must move and live in God. Divine
powers are there within himself, not without. The kingdom of God is within you.
God is transcendent and immanent both. Humility is the quality of godliness
and, therefore, should be practiced. Vain glory and pride are the wine of the
devil, and so it is better to avoid them.
These are some points to be noted in connection
with Indian consciousness. Literature is the visible form of this
consciousness. It is a live organism of the multiple instincts and impulses and
urges of man. Indian Literature is permeated with this consciousness which a
study of some of the classics of Indian Literature will at once reveal. This
consciousness is at the back-bone of Indian Literature. Characteristics of
Indian Literature would be a sort of an expatiation of the features of the same
consciousness, for the one is so closely interlinked with the other, and is a
clearer and broader denomination of the same thing. It would, however, be worth
while noting some salient characteristics of Indian Literature.
Firstly, one who plunges deeply into the classics
of Indian Literature would observe the intimate alliance, really speaking, the
perfect fusion, between poetry and religion. Religion is the very breath of
Indian life and Literature. Not merely the outward rituals of religion, which
sometimes cling to it so fast that any attempt to shake off its sloughs results
in failures, but it is the outlook of an inspired mystic, who for the
composition of his verses seizes upon the substance of stars, moon, sun, trees,
plants, mountains, flowers, desires, aspirations, the hidden springs of
passions, and various other lovely phenomena of nature and human life, so that
in its finished form it becomes a sort of a religious amalgam of all these
things enumerated above.
It is the ultimate nature of reality upon which the
Indian poet ever keeps his steadfast gaze. Other things are all vanity of
vanity, a maya, dust, having no substance or shape. Wisdom and the spirit of
the universe alone live. Like Wordsworth, he perceives the sympathies, “more
tranquil yet of kindred birth that steal upon the meditative mind and grow with
thought.” The Ramayana, the Mahabharata and the Bhagavadgita,
the Rigveda, the Upanishads, etc., the great sacred books of the
East, are saturated with the subtle or emphatic spirit of religion. In their
substance they are religious books, and works of stupendous thought. They are
not sectarian. No better instance can one have of the immanent or
transcendental personality of the Divine Self than in these works. On the
contrary, English poetry is secular; it is mundane. Not that there are no
religious poems in English Literature. The old English poetry is tinged with
religion and in modern poetry also an attempt at a religious renovation in
poetry has been made by Francis Thompson, but it is an acknowledged fact that
the religious content of English poetry, whether of modern times or old ones,
is not very profound, e inspiration, which is the fountain-source of all great
poetry is not deep. English poetry is but quasi-religious in character. But
Indian Poetry is rarely marked by an absence of the religious motive. The Jap
Sahib of the Sikhs, an immortal poem, is throughout religious. The secret
of such a state of affairs is that in India the intellect is subordinated to
intuition, dogma to experience. “Religion in India,” as Sir Radhakrishnan seeks
to explain in his Hindu View of Life “is not the acceptance of academic
abstraction or the celebration of ceremonies, but a kind of life or
experience,.....an insight into the nature of Reality (darsana) or experience
of Reality (anubhava).”
Secondly, poetry and music .are indissolubly
inter-woven with each other. One cannot be separated from the other. The two
are hand-maidens. They are the two hands of a clock, without the difference of
one being big and the other small. Indian poetry loses much of its original,
mellifluous and elusive music by being transplanted into an alien tongue. Yet
translations there are of Indian poetry. They have been exceedingly popular with
the Europeans. All the saint poets of India carried their message into the
hearts of the common hearers all over the country and the secret of their wide
appeal has been that their message or philosophy, whatever you call it, was
couched in music. Kabir, Mirabai, Surdas, Tulsidas, Tukaram are some of these
saint poets of India, Kabir’s poems have been translated into English by so
great an Indian poet as RabindranathTagore. All Kabir’s songs are worthy to be
called poems, if poetry is an expression of simple terminology of the
heart-felt emotions of human beings. Some of the music of the original retained
in the translation as the following poem would show:
“The middle region of the sky, wherein the spirit
dwelleth,
Is radiant with the music of Light;
There, where the pure and white music blossoms,
My Lord takes His delight.
In the wondrous effulgence of each hair of His
body,
The brightness of millions of suns and of moons is
lost,
On that shore there is a city where the rain of
nectar pours and pours,
And never ceases.
Kabir says: “Come, Dharmadas, and see my great
Lord’s Durbar”.
Rabindranath Tagore’s poems, to take another
example, are invariably set to music. His Gitanjali is a gorgeous
display of human emotions in rainbow colours and rhythmical setting. A work of
this type was alien to western consciousness and enthusiastically it was hailed
as a bright star from the East. Its resplendent beauty, as soon as it was
published, caught the fancy of the westerners. The immense popularity of the
book with W. B. Yeats and A.E, two Irish poets, is too well-known to need a
citation here. There goes a saying in the East that even passages from prose
would be better understood when recited. Rabindranath Tagore was fully aware of
this fact while writing his poems.
Thirdly, Indian Literature is soaked in the element
of love. Human love has come up for treatment in all its aspects. There is a
great mass of love poetry that centres round Radha and Krishna, the eternal
woman and the eternal man. It is the poetry of sringar or the poetry of
passion. It is the passion of the sweet illusion of love, which revels in
wasting itself. “As long as youth, spring, and dreams are with us”, says Puran
Singh, “so long will this kind of poetry be fascinating”. This is the only kind
of poetry in India which, being possessed of a spontaneous innocence is free
from religious expression and meaning. But here also, as is quite natural to
Indian genius, human love soars to the divine. The secular love with all its
passionate effulgence reads in its deeper significance as the love of the human
soul for the Divine Being. Various stages of this spiritual quest are described
in the love of Krishna for Radha, or better, of Radha for Krishna.
Nevertheless, this poetry remains the highest ideal of the aesthetic delight of
self-realization, for “all art”, as a critic once said, “consists in making
statues and pictures that can move with our own life and self-realization.”
Kalidas’ Shakuntala is a well-known drama of human love. Love lyrics of
the Punjabi Literature are intense, for they have in them the potency of
stirring blood in the dead frames of human body. The voice of Punjabi
Literature is that of the feminine. Always surrounded by danger and
in-security, attendant upon foreign inroads to the Punjab, man was often
subjected in mediaeval times to a lack of peace and permanence of home; tragic
lamentations of a deep poignant nature rose from the heart of the mother,
sister or the wife who express a joy of a comparatively greater feeling and passion
on the arrival of their hero home. Punjabi love poetry is so intense, because
it is the creation of war. The following is an example of how a Punjabi girl,
like a love-lorn nightingale, is singing her pain aloud, in the absence of her
husband, who has now taken up the sword to strike the enemy dead or die
himself:
White as pearls are his teeth and his eyebrows so
black,
Wondrous are the curves and lines of the mysterious
man,
His crimson turban has disappeared in the blue, my
love is gone,
Turn thy back on me, O wearer of the crimson
turban.
I do a hundred things for him and fly myself in a
hundred ways,
But the wearer of the crimson turban doth not enter
my chamber.
Nor doth he come at night on my roof,
Oh! the day when I met him.
It does not, however, mean that western poetry does not harp upon the
theme of love. There is such a great element of love in English poetry. You
have no English novel, which does not make love as its pivot, with rare and
negligible exceptions. But what strikes one by way of a difference between the
treatment of love in these two widely divergent literatures Eastern and
Western, is that love in Eastern Literature pulsates with a spiritual fire,
which is more or less absent in Western Literature. Love is the East soars m the
empyrean, in the West no attempt is made to lift it above the earth.
Fourthly, there is no tragedy in Indian Literature.
Unlike the Greeks and the philosophers of the pessimist school, who hold that
the true vision is the tragic, Indians believe that Tragedy is not the
fundamental aspect of life. The Indian’s preference for comedy or romance does
not amount to his aversion to face the tragic facts of life. The reason lies
deeper. As Puran Singh writes in The Spirit of Oriental Poetry, in India
“tragedy is a surface phenomenon, there is no hell save what we create for
ourselves. Life is an infinite Paradise! They who writ tragedies are not yet
enlightened. The function of poetry is to help us win our paradise”. Tragedy,
unlike as in the West, belongs to the accidents of life. It is not a
fundamental or constructive element in the vision of Reality. Tragedy is not so
popular in India as tragi-comedy, though we are getting used to it on account
of the influence which the plays, particularly tragedies of Shakespeare, have
exercised on the minds of the educated Indians in the recent past. There is no
tragedy worth the name in ancient Sanskrit Literature.
Fifthly, Indian Literature is eclectic. There is always an attempt at a synthesis. Like the Indian genius, Indian Literature has been exceedingly absorbent. Whatever fell to it in course of time was made by it as its own. The many alien inroads into the country left their impress upon the country’s ideals and thoughts. Instead of eschewing the foreign, a quick acceptance was made of them and m the process of assimilation their trace was lost in the stupendous organism of the Indian mind. History has repeated itself in the first quarter of the present century and we find from our study of contemporary Indian thought that in every sphere of life, politics, economics, religion, literature, and society, people are endeavoring to strike a compromise between the alien and their own. Old Indian thought is fast changing and it is being built a superstructure of a compound of the old and the new. Radhakrishnan is doing in philosophy what Mahatma Gandhi has done in politics and what Rabindranath Tagore did in the sphere of literature. These are the three great Indian thinkers of the present century, in their thoughts is reflected the spirit of the age. They truly represent us, as our beacon lights. You read their works and you find a nice syncretisation. In literature, the old Ideals of asceticism, pessimism, transmigration, Karma, pantheism, exclusiveness and aloofness are being gradually superseded or transformed under the plastic stress of western civilization, by the western concepts of individual freedom, emphasis on personality, rejection of pessimism, and in its place a spirit of joy pervading everywhere, scientific materialism, the idea of progress, respect for women, eradication of untouchability etc. There has been an alliance between the Lotus-eaters and Ulysses.