Infatuation

Shakuntala lost in thought by Raja Ravi Varma 19th C. Indian Painter

Shakuntala was lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Shakuntala, wondered about their guest. Who was this handsome young king. How dare he come to the forest and hunt. And for deer! Her fawn was the sweetest most innocent creature she had ever known. But what had become of the stranger? He had gone off to stop a mad elephant. What courage! But what if he were crushed by the elephant? She was worried. How could she be worried about a total stranger? It was all so confusing.

But when she consulted with her heart, she realized that she wasn’t worried. What pierced her heart like an arrow and made her head spin was love. She was enchanted by their guest, the handsome king.  She was  feverish with love for the stranger who had entered the grove.  He spoke so sweetly and ran bravely after the mad elephant.

All this gave Shakuntala a headache. She was now burning with passion, and felt feverish and sick. But why had he left so soon? She felt abandoned. It wasn’t the first time. Her mother was the beautiful apsara, Menaka. She had been sent to earth to break the vow of Vishvamitra Muni. 

Everyone in the ashrama knew the story. Vishvamitra had been a king and a great Kshatriya warrior. But he was unsatisfied with his position. Once he had been hunting in the forest when he came upon the great sage Vasistha. Enamoured by his wish-fulfilling cow, he attempted to steal it, but Vasistha ordered the cow to produce an army of soldiers. The magic army defeated Vishvamitra. 

Thwarted, he was determined to understand the source of Vasishta’s power. How could a brahman be more powerful than an Kshatriya?  And so he resolved to become a greater mystic than Vasishta, by dint of severe penances and austerities. This was brought to the attention of Indra, the lord of rain, who decided to put a stop to Vishvamitra’s yogic practice.

Menaka's dance

He had prevailed upon Menaka to seduce the sage. One  day Vishvamitra was meditating on the banks of the Ganges. Menaka gathered flowers by the river. As she approached the sage, he was moved by the fragrance of her perfume, the sweetness of her smile, her enchanting eyes. Still, he resolved to follow his vows. Menaka began to frolic and dance through the forest, picking flowers and smiling graciously at the sage. But Vishvamitra was firm in his vows.  Menaka continued to tempt Vishvamitra until he was captured by her intoxicating beauty and drawn into the web of her seductive wiles.

Temptation of Visvamitra by Raja Ravi Varma, 19th C. traditional painter

Before long, a child was born, a daughter as enchanting as her mother and as strong-willed as her father. With this the spell was broken. 

Birth of Shakuntala

Vishvamitra rejected his daughter and returned to his austerities and meditation. Menaka was an apsara dancing girl from the heavens. She grew restless and bored with the simple tasks of motherhood. 

She longed to return to the court of Indra, king of the heavens. And so it was that she abandoned Shakuntala in the forest. One morning, when no one was to be seen, Menaka slipped into the forest and laid the infant girl on a bed of mango leaves by a tall tamarind tree near the ashram of Kanva the forest sage. 

She said mantras and prayers to the gods to protect the tiny girl and then returned to the heavens to dance in the court of the god of rain. Menaka had been abandoned by her father, the great sage Vishvamitra, and now by her mother, the beautiful apsara, Menaka.

Shakuntha birds with baby girl

As fortune would have it, the birds took pity on her. A family of Shakuntha birds brought her food and sang her to sleep on her bed of leaves. Finally, the sage Kanva, enchanted by the song of those exotic birds, found the nest where the little girl slept. And seeing the helpless child, he resolved to care for her. The compassionate sage raised her in his ashram as his own daughter and named her Shakuntala in honor of the shakuntha birds that had fed her.

Sage Kanva and Shakuntala

And there in the ashrama of Kanva Shakuntala had passed nearly sixteen years. She was a devoted daughter, polite, and well-educated. All the animals of the forest loved her, especially the birds who would perch on her shoulder and sing to her. But her favorite was the fawn that had escaped the ashram and was nearly killed by the king who came to hunt, the noble Dushyant. 

Mahabharata Prologo

Sánskrita original de Mahabharata

Mahabharata: Prologo por Michael Dolan

traducido por Teresa Loret de Mola, Tapanandini

Mi estudio de trabajo, 2015

Este es el principio del recuento del Mahābharata en el que estoy trabajando. 

Prologo: Kurukshetra

Empezaremos al final de la batalla de Kurukṣetra, contemplando los horrores de la guerra y su causa y origen.  Era el fin del mundo. Cuerpos masacrados yacían por todas partes.

Cientos de miles de guerreros asesinados. Derribadas y destrozadas estaban las cuadrigas doradas, sus ejes rotos. Cadáveres de caballos. Miles de elefantes habían muerto. Caótica estaba la tierra quemada de flechas y hombres agonizantes, cercenados por las jabalinas y los dardos, gemían de dolor. 

Las mujeres se lamentaban, sollozando por los muertos. Las espadas de bronce y hierro se mezclaban con las lanzas y la sangre, cubrían a los soldados apiñados. Hombres decapitados, de cuyos cuellos fluía sangre a borbotones. Había cuerpos por todas partes. El horror de la guerra. El fin de una era.

Desde los albores del tiempo, una gran civilización había florecido, decaído y se desvanecía. La impresionante matanza de la guerra de Kurukṣetra concluía la tercera era de la Civilización Védica, dando lugar a la era de Kali la del hierro y corrupción.

Nuestro panorama del campo de batalla muestra una devastación completa. Los buitres tomaban ya los huesos de los caballos medio muertos mientras el humo giraba hacia el cielo matutino. Lo que había sido verde una vez, las llanuras onduladas son ahora panteones a causa de la devastación y los huesos carbonizados de los guerreros. Donde cabalgaron campeones en batalla con coloridas banderas, es ahora sólo tierra chamuscada y restos de cadáveres..

Sólo quedan ahora cráteres ardientes en donde otrora feroces armas tomaron la vida de grades héroes. 

Smoke rises from the funeral pyres of dead warriors. Widows wail and chant songs of grief, searching for survivors amid the wreckage of broken shields and bones. Passing their fallen heroes,  they decorate the dead with flowers and pray to the gods.  

Se elevó el humo de las piras funerarias de los guerreros muertos. Las viudas se lamentaban y entonaban cantos de duelo, en busca de supervivientes entre restos de escudos magullados y huesos.

Gloriosas y orgullosas banderas se hallan dispersas sobre el barro junto con sus héroes, escudos y cuerpos despedazados. 

El sol se ha puesto y se eleva de nuevo. Ha llegado otro día. Kurukṣetra. El fin de la batalla. Nuestro escenario se halla establecido.

La Venganza de Aśvatthāmā 

Y en los siguientes días cuando el sol de un rojo sangre se elevaba sobre el campo de batalla devastado en donde tantos perdieran la vida, los príncipes Pāṇḍava caminaron entre los cadáveres de héroes y otrora orgullosos y arrogantes príncipes. Caballos heridos gemían. Los espasmos de los hombres en agonía se podían escuchar haciendo eco sobre las canciones lastimeras de alondras y aves de reyezuelos. Las mujeres lloraban a sus muertos. Los estandartes de grandes héroes se hallaban tirados en el barro. Las piras funerarias de los muertos salpicaban el paisaje.

Los Pāṇḍavas caminaban cansados hacia el Ganges a través de la planicie del sitio de la batalla, seguidos por las mujeres. Estaban en duelo por los muertos. Las mujeres tomaron agua sagrada del río en potes y se las llevaron a los soldados caídos, rociándola sobre sus restos. Los cuervos se posaban sobre los elefantes. Los buitres sobrevolaban en círculo. Draupadī inclinaba su cabeza mientras lloraba. 

Aśvatthāmā atacó con rabia, furioso. Determinado a que la muerte de su padre no fuera en vano, vendió su alma a Shiva en venganza. El maldito Aśvatthāmā cabalgó durante la noche hacia el campamento de los Pāṇḍavas. Se escurrió sin ser visto en el campamento, ya que la luna no brillaba, ató su caballo a un árbol.

Sigiloso como un tigre en la campiña, el hijo de Droṇa se arrastró hacia el cuartel de Dhristhtadyumna. Los Panchalas estaban dormidos tras la larga batalla, agotados por la guerra. Entonces, entró a la habitación del feroz hermano de Draupadī, el cruel Asvatthama se aproximó. El gran héroe yacía dormido sobre una cama de suaves plumas, estaba cubierto en sábanas de seda, blancas como nubes. Guirnaldas de flores olorosas adornaban su cama. Su cuarto estaba perfumando con el aroma delicado de incienso de sándalo que creaba una sutil niebla de humo.  

A través de la pantalla de humo se arrastró el hijo de Droṇa sediento de sangre, Empeñado en vengarse. Aśvatthāmā silenciosamente desenvainó su sable y lo sostuvo contra el cuello del príncipe que dormía. 

Remains of Indus Valley Civilization at Harappa

Kailash rock-cut temple.

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Pandavas & Draupadi with Akshaya Patra (Source: Amba Theertha, near Kalasa, Karnataka

Black and White Image of an Antique Medallion showing Arjuna and Hanuman