Caught White-handed!

[Guest guest]

Srimate SrivanSatakopa Sri Vedanta Desika Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama:

 

 

 

" Caught White-handed! "

 

 

 

Everybody loves a good tale. There is nothing like a credible yarn,

spun out with skill, to entertain, enlighten and educate us. The erstwhile

popularity of Tamil weeklies and monthlies was due in no small measure to the

serial stories that appeared in them, regaling the reading public for long

years. We hear of readers waiting for the next issue with bated breath, getting

through the week somehow and rushing to the newsstands to grab their current

copy of Kalki, to learn what befell VandiyatEvan, the life-like hero of

" Ponniyin Selvan " . And even today, there are those who would miss even a meal,

rather than forego watching the current episode of their favourite mega serial

or soap opera. We see pitched battles being fought at home between otherwise

harmonious members of the family, over which serial should be viewed at a

particular time, when two or more of them are on the air simulataneously in

different channels. All this goes to show the incredible power the story wields

over people.

 

 

 

However, we find that most of these hot stories and gripping serials fade

away from public memory as fast as they surface. If one were to be asked today

about supposedly immortal works like " Kadal PurA " or " SivakAmiyin Sapatham " , one

would have to recall them with difficulty. If this is the state of affairs

within two to three decades of their appearance, one could imagine what their

fate could be a decade later--none would have even heard about the works, leave

alone remember their contents. Some works survive longer in readers' minds due

to their worthy contents, but again it is only a question of time before they

too take a bow, unsung and forgotten. Similar is the fate of serials and motion

pictures in the visual media . Whether it be " Sound of Music " or " Chandralekha " ,

all these are destined ultimately for the forlorn world of the forgotten

classics.

 

 

 

On the other hand, we find that even today huge crowds throng lecture halls

where the exploits of Rama and Krishna are narrated. The TV serials on Ramayana

and Mahabharata were such crowd-pullers that activity ground to a halt in the

entire nation, with people dropping whatever they were doing to watch eagerly

the next episode of the epic. When Homer's Iliad and Kalidasa's Shakuntalam have

ceased to enthrall us, within a few centuries of their composition, we find

tales of Rama and Krishna still gripping, inspiring in us resolutions of good

behaviour, whenever we hear this or that exploit of Sri Rama, highlighting

exemplary conduct. We are still moved to tears when we hear of Sri Rama's

uncomplaining acceptance of a sentence of extradition for fourteen long years,

added to the loss of throne, or of Sri Janaki's clumsy efforts to drape Herself

with the deer skin on the eve of Her departure for the forests, unused so far to

anything but the most luxurious of lives at Mithila and Ayodhya. We are fired by

tales of Sri Rama's bravery in single-handedly disposing of fourteen thousand

rakshasas and moved beyond words at His preparedness to grant assylum to the

brother of His sworn enemy, and what is more remarkable, to even the dastardly

abductor of His beloved wife. All these occurrences of YugAs past are still

green in our memory, as if they happened just yesterday. And when you come to

think of it, Srimad Ramayana is not that remarkable, as far as the story line is

concerned, and could be summarised in a few sentences. This being so, why should

it survive where other similar yarns are long dead and gone?

 

 

 

When we analyse the reasons for this phenomenon of some tales being forgotten

quickly and others lingering on and on, forever, we find that all accounts of

mundane mortals, narrated by authors whose calibre is but the same as that of

the characters they create, disappear without a trace after a short run of

popularity, while all legends of the Lord and His doings, irrespective of how

long back they happened, live on in people's memories. While all objects of

enjoyment in this world are subject to what the economists call the Law of

Diminishing Marginal Utility, affording less and less pleasure with every

increase in the number of units consumed, according to Sri Nammazhwar, the Lord

is the significant exception in this regard, the blissful experience He affords

never palling upon devotees- " appouzhudaikku appOdu en ArAvamudamE " . So too,

tales concerning the Lord appeal to us anew, everytime we hear or read them.

Irrespective of the number of times one has heard the Epic, it never bores us,

as would any other repetition. Can you imagine how many discourses might have

been delivered on the subject of Ramayana, ever since the sons of Rama first

sang the lilting verses of Valmiki, holding spell-bound the first ever audience

consisting of the citizens of Ayodhya? We are unable to hazard even a guess at

the billions of recounting the Epic must have undergone, over several YugAs. And

if a recital of the same is able to grip even fickle-minded fireflies like us

even today, irrespective of the narrative skills of the racounteur, the magic of

the Epic and of its Immortal Hero are beyond dispute. Would anyone listen to

tales other than that of Sri Rama, queries Sri Nammazhwar rhetorically,

confessing his obsession with the Prince of Ayodhya and His exploits- " karpAr

irAma pirAnai allAl mattrum karparO? " . If these tales have been translated into

innumerable languages spoken around the world, is it not a testimonial to their

undying appeal, cutting across national and cultural barriers? If scenes from

the Epic were depicted as murals and sculptures in the ancient temples at Angkor

Vat and if such scenes are enacted every year not only in India but in distant

lands like Indonesia,Malaysia, Thailand, etc., it puts the universal appeal of

Bhagavat Katha beyond dispute.

 

 

 

When we speak of undying tales, perhaps the saga of Sri Krishna ranks no lower

in popularity. For sheer entertainment value, if not for its instructive

content, nothing can beat Srimad Bhagavatam and especially the tenth skandam

thereof, detailing the exploits of the Boy Wonder. One wonders whether Mark

Twain's " Tom Sawyer " , Richmal Crompton's " William " and scores of other

mischievous and beloved characters might not have been created after a perusal

of the life and times of Sri Krishna. Though Bhagavatam does chronicle the

endearing misdemeanours of the Divine Cowboy, it was left to Sri Periyazhwar and

his illustrious daughter to portray vividly the innumerable exploits of

Kannapiran, who was at once the darling and despair of Sri Yasoda. Tales of

Krishna enthral us till date, with our delight undiminished by any number of

recountings of His thievery of dairy products, His scant regard for property

rights as far as milk, butter and curds were concerned, His highly unorthodox

ways of obtaining objects of His desire, His romances, sincere and otherwise,

with the Gopis of Nandagokulam, His exploits with the numerous asuras dispatched

by Kamsa with the sole aim of finishing off the boisterous brat and His growing

up amidst cows, calves and cowherds, reeking of dairy products. There are so

many tales of Sri Krishna, with sub-plots of their own, that we can easily lose

a lifetime listening to them with undying fascination.

 

And millions of authors, right from the venerated Sri Suka Brahmam and Sri

Vishnuchitta, to the modern day Kannadasan, accounting for various shades of

devotion and scholarship, have delighted in writing of Krishna and His doings.

 

 

 

Here is one of the numerous anecdotes which at once entertain, educate and

enthrall. The following sloka from Sri Krishna KarNAmritam of Leelasuka portrays

the devious mindset of the mischievous brat, especially when His misdeeds come

home to roost. The sloka is set against the background of Sri Krishna's habit of

barging into other people's homes, appropriating for own use the pots of butter,

milk and curds gathered by Gopis with considerable strain and labour. Adding

insult to injury, He not only consumes all these delicacies, but also bangs down

the empty pots with considerable force, shattering them to pieces. His raids are

not only nocturnal, but carried out brazenly in broad daylight too, when the

inhabitants of the selected house are away or asleep. And the damage caused is

substantial, as the brat always moves about in gangs, of which the other unholy

members too have no less an appetite for butter and curds. To avoid the little

monster from accessing dairy products, clever Gopis fashion slings and suspend

the pots of butter and curds from the ceiling, far beyond the reach of the short

Krishna. However, this hardly stops the ingenious infant, who fashions a human

ladder to climb and reach the pot. He puts His beautiful hand inside the vessel,

scoops out a handful of butter and stuffs it into His pearly mouth. It is at

this stage that the suspicious Gopi, who had gone just to the backyard, returns

and finds six or seven children in her living room, standing one atop the other,

to enable the black one at the top to reach the butter pot. What they are up to

is extremely evident, any niggling doubts in this regard instantly dispelled by

the large, tell-tale smear of butter on the hands and face of the apple of

Yasoda's eye.

 

 

 

This particular Gopi had been a long-suffering victim of these resourceful

raiders and had tried every ruse in the book to trap them " white-handed " ,

engaged in the consumption of butter, so that she could drag them to Yasoda, who

was forever protesting the innocence of her brat, never taking cognisance of

complaints unless accompanied by well-documented evidence. And what could be

better testimony than catching Him with a hand in the pot? Determined to bring

Him to justice today, the Gopi starts the court of inquiry quite innocuously, as

if unaware of Krishna's identity. " Who are you, my boy? " ( " Ka: tvam bAla? " ) she

inquires of the brat. The irony of the situation is brought out extremely well

by the poet, that of the unlettered Gopi demanding the Parabrahmam to identify

Itself. Perched precariously on the shoulder of His accomplice, who has started

shivering in anticipation of imminent reprisal, Sri Krishna puts on a brave

face, as if there is nothing extraordinary about the situation in which He has

been caught and as if it is an every day occurrence for housewives to find Sri

Krishna in their living rooms, perched atop three or four urchins, with His hand

inside the butter pot. Lost in the contemplation of ways and means to get out in

one piece from the tight spot, Sri Krishna still manages a wily reply to the

Gopi, telling her that He is the younger brother of Balarama. While indeed being

the elder brother, Balarama is quite a normal and adorable specimen of

childhood, respectful to elders and with a finely-developed sense of meum and

tuum. All that everybody in Gokulam has for Him are affection and regard. Hence,

by playing upon the unblemished reputation of Balarama, Sri Krishna hopes to

evade punishment, indirectly pleading with the Gopi to spare Him (Krishna)

considering the impeccable conduct of His elder. (This reminds us somewhat of

Sri Alavandar's prayer to the Lord to save him, if only on account of his

grandfather Sri Nathamuni- " PitAmaham NAthamunim vilOkya praseeda mat vrittam

achintayitvA " ).

 

 

 

Marvelling at the little brat's crafty reply, the Gopi says, " Okay, Balarama's

brother! But what are you doing here, in my living room, without my consent,

where you have absolutely no legitimate business? You have definitely not been

invited in by me. Then how come I find you here? " . She thinks she has got Him

cornered, for there could be no reply to this question, except shameful

acknowledgement of trespass, followed by profuse apologies. Savouring her moment

of revenge, she awaits Krishna's reply, if one could be made. However, she

forgets that Krishna is never at a loss for words, whether they be true or

false. He tells her brazenly that He entered her house, mistaking it to be His

own. Even a little child of AyppAdi knows Nandagopa's palace, being the tallest

and most magnificent of residences in the locality, with beautiful doors adorned

with mellifluously chiming bells, high-flying flags and fine-looking festoons

( " kodi tOndrum tOraNa vAyil kAppAnE! MaNi kadavam tAL tiravAi " ). This Gopi's

residence is an extremely humble one, with neither flag nor festoon and with an

ordinary wooden door that is unable to keep out mid-day marauders like Krishna.

There is thus no possibility of Krishna mistaking this humble home to be His

own. However, the Gopi decides to say nothing about this incredible contention,

deciding to give Krishna a long rope.

 

 

 

She proceeds logically: " I can even accept that you have barged into my house,

mistaking it to be yours.Even if you entered by mistake, you could have found

from the interior that it is definitely not yours, and having deduced that, it

would have been expected of you to have departed immediately, with appropriate

apologies to me. Instead of that, why do I find you with your hand inside the

butter pot? "

 

 

 

The Gopi is certain she has floored Krishna with this unanswerable query. How

could He reply? Anticipating and relishing in advance His discomfiture in having

been caught red-handed, the Gopi awaits the brat's reply, if at all there could

be one. However, pat comes the astounding answer, " Oh mother! One of my calves

got separated from the herd, while I was returning home from the hills after

grazing the cows. I am just looking whether the lost calf is inside the pot. " It

must have been for this particular piece of falsehood, which crowns all others

He had uttered in His illustrious career as a facile fibber, that Sri Andal

bestowed Him with the sobriquet, " ElA poigaL uraippAn " -the incredible fibber.

 

 

 

Amazed at the preposterous reply, the Gopi marvels at Krishna's ready tongue,

ever ready to utter untruth with fascinating fluency. A lost calf and searching

for it inside the butter pot, suspended high from the ceiling! This piece of

incredible insolence is the last straw and the Gopi's patience runs out. Not

only was the brat stealing her butter in broad daylight, short-ciruciting all

the safeguards she had put in place, but He was also insulting her intelligence

with tall stories of calves in butter pots and humble huts being mistaken for

splendorous palaces! Nothing like a good spanking to keep errant urchins in

line, thinks the Gopi and raises her hand threateningly (the hand would not have

made contact, for no one in Nandagokulam can bear to hit Krishna or to see Him

beaten, such was the overwhelming love everyone had for Him, despite His

misdeeds), when Krishna, feigning fright, starts crying in a shrill voice,

enough to rouse the neighbourhood. Even to this day, we find children resorting

to this ruse, when all else fails to move parents to comply with juvenile

demands. Tears are the ultimate and invariably effective weapons in the armoury

of children. The Gopi being no exception to the rule, gets flustered by

Krishna's tears, which have started coursing down His blooming cheeks, just a

second after he commenced crying. Her anger all forgotten, she tries to pacify

the child, who looks so sad and forlorn, with eyes swimming in tears and

uttterly helpless against adult harrassment. Her maternal instinct becoming

overactive, the Gopi takes sobbing Krishna into her arms and consoles Him with

large helpings of butter or what is left of it after the little thief and His

gang have had a go at it. Krishna feasts on the offering with gusto and leaves,

after extracting promises from a mellowed Gopi for a repeat banquet of bovine

products, the following day.

 

Here is the beautiful sloka from Sri Krishna Karnamritam-

 

 

 

" Ka: tvam Bala? BalAnuja: kim iha tE? Man mandira AsankayA

 

Yuktam tat. Navaneeta bhAnda kuharE hastam kimarttham nyadA:?

 

MAta! Kanchana vatsakam mrigayitum. MAgA vishAdam kshaNAt

 

ItyEvam vana vallavI birudita: Krishna: sa pushNAtu na: "

 

 

 

What a wonderful tale! And there are practically hundreds like this one, each

displaying a particular aspect of the Paripoorna avatAra that was Sri Krishna.

 

Azhwars have waxed extremely eloquent in recounting numerous such episodes,

moving even the stoniest of hearts and melting it with Bhagavat guNAnubhavam.

Listening to such tales of the Lord and His exploits purifies the mind of its

accumulated garbage, making it an ideal abode for the Supreme Being. It is thus

not for nothing that Listening, to tales of the Lord and His devotees, is

counted among the best of ways to inculcate and imbibe devotion- " shravaNam,

keertanam VishNO: " Sri Kulasekhara Perumal exhorts his ears to listen only to

the glorious fables of the Lord- " Achyuta kathA shrotra dvaya tvam shruNu " .

 

 

 

Telling tales might be bad per se, but when the tales are about the Lord, they

generate exquisite enjoyment in the teller as well as the listener, says the

Gitacharya- " kathayantascha mAm nityam, tushyanti cha ramanti cha " .

 

 

 

Srimate Sri LakshmINrsimha divya paduka sevaka SrivanSatakopa Sri Narayana

Yatindra Mahadesikaya nama:

 

Dasan, sadagopan