Brawn, brain and beauty are not mutually exclusive in Indian tradition if we look—that, too, long before Europe came up with the notion of the all-rounder, the ‘Renaissance Man’. One of my favourite examples is Kartikeya. Well, consider whose son he is. His Tamil name, Murugan, means ‘the beautiful one’. His valour needs no publicity, for he is the general of the gods, having vanquished demons who threatened the world. Sri Krishna even says in the Bhagavad Gita, Chapter 10, Verse 24: “Senaninam aham Skanda”, ‘Of warrior chiefs, I am Skanda (Kartikeya)’.
Kartikeya also stars in one of my favourite guru stories from our millennia of attempting civilisation, about a father learning from his son. The story seems to imply that young people have a good, pure energy that can show society the right path when elders are confused or mistaken.
This is the symbolic story of the Pranava Mantra. Pranava means ‘the operator of life force’ and ‘the giver of life force’. The mantra is the root syllable ‘M’, which is extended as ‘Om’.
The father in the story is Shiva, considered ‘the father of the universe’ and the Adiguru or first and prime guru of dharmic culture. His ‘son’ in this case is not big brother Ganesha but little brother Kartikeya. It was Kartikeya who taught his father the importance of the Pranava Mantra. This is said to have happened at Swami Malai or ‘God’s Hill’ in the region of the river Kaveri. Thus, another name for Kartikeya is Swaminatha Swami, meaning ‘Shiva’s guru’.
Thoughts of Kartikeya or Skanda lead me automatically to the Skanda Purana. It is the longest of the 18 mahapuranas, or old Indian anthologies of religion and culture. I feel a sort of morbid interest in the Skanda Purana because of my great-great-grandfather Ramakrishna Shastri, an old-style scholar who studied the Vedas and Shastras under a learned guru, Pandit Ishvara Jatavallabha.
My great-great-grandfather had apparently excelled in studies and was given the title Veda Nipuna, meaning ‘Veda Expert’. It seems he was discoursing on the Skanda Purana while being fanned by his younger son, my great-grandfather. He stopped suddenly in mid-sentence and gazed amazed at a vision only he could see, uttering, “Hara Hara Subrahmanya.” His eyes stayed wide open, and he died that instant.
I differ entirely from old-style patriarchies. However, I find that the Skanda Purana has something interesting to tell us about tirtha or places of pilgrimage. It says that tirtha are of three kinds. A Jangam Tirtha is to a movable destination, a sadhu, rishi or guru. A Sthavar Tirtha is to a fixed or immovable one, like Kashi, Mathura, Haridwar, Kanchi, mountains and rivers; and Manas Tirtha is to a place of the mind, towards ‘truth, charity, patience, compassion and soft speech’, towards where the soul lives. That is the teaching transmitted by Vyasa, the composer, in the name of Skanda, the guru of the Adiguru.
This valuable message seems lost in our unhappy age of rage. However, when I think of it, I feel encouraged, as if a cool breeze has blown in and brushed away the dust and cobwebs gathering in my head from the stress of daily life and ugly news. So, I uphold Manas Tirtha and young Indians as a life-force for the good, symbolised by Kartikeya.
Sri Rama, too, is a glowing example of the all-rounder. We learn early on from Valmiki that Rama had dark curls on his forehead and a glossy dark-brown complexion. Hanuman describes Rama to Sita as having ‘coppery eyes’ of a gleaming golden-brown, broad shoulders and mighty arms.
As for his character, the epic begins with a list of sixteen good qualities that Sage Narada seeks in an ideal man. Lord Brahma tells him that Rama is that person. At that stage, it is only hearsay to us. However, when Dasharatha asks his subjects what they feel about Rama becoming the crown prince, there is a roar of approval.
The people say, “Rama speaks lovingly to everyone and his words have never been false. He respects elders and wise people. He is genuinely interested in the welfare of others. When out riding, he stops and talks to the man on the street. He readily forgives and forgets a wrong but remembers even the smallest nice thing that anybody ever did for him. He is well-read and well-mannered. He is a drapi, angry only when rightfully required and in the right proportion.”
We get to gauge Rama’s persona even better when the big tests come. His lack of greed when he promptly accepts being exiled. His forgiving nature when he meets Kaikeyi at Chitrakoot. His democratic gift of making friends with people of all classes. Be it his people, great sages in the forest, humble folk like Guha, a motley crew of Vanaras given to drinking and carousing, a person of superior intellect like Hanuman or an asura prince like Vibhishana, Rama attracts affection and support just by being himself – open and friendly. Moreover, Rama loves deeply and does not deny his pain, lamenting for Sita, homesick for Ayodhya.
In sum, a picture emerges of a person who feels things deeply but tries to do his best despite setback after setback, while keeping his dignity and without losing consideration for others. With such evolved role models in Indian tradition, we are all encouraged to become the best versions of ourselves that we can achieve.
Renuka Narayanan,
Senior journalist
shebaba09@gmail.com
(Views are personal)