Pancha Kanyah - Ahalya

The “Magic Suggestiveness” of Pancha Kanya
An exploration into some aspects of classical Indian feminism
http://www.boloji.com/hinduism/175.html
by: Dr (Mrs.) Ralla Guha Niyogi

(Original article on Pancha Kanya by Pradip Bhattacharya is at: http://www.boloji.com/hinduism/panchkanya/pk01.htm )

Extract from Dr.(Mrs.) Niyogi's article:

The author’s independent research reveals that Ahalya being turned to stone is the Katha-Sarit-Sagara version, expressing the male backlash of a largely patriarchal society [PK, p.23]. Valmiki’s Ahalya, like the heroine of Aparna Sen’s remarkable twentieth century Bengali film, Paroma undergoes, “not an actual physical transformation, but “a psychological trauma [involving a] ‘freezing’[of] the emotions… making her socially into a non-person”. When Rama and Lakshmana socially recognize her by touching her feet in salutation, her “self-respect and status in society [is restored] so that she truly live[s] again”, [PK., p. 23].[19] The fact that she is regarded by the Prince of Ayodhya as “blameless and inviolate” shows that the ancient concepts of virginity or morality were quite different from that of subsequent ages. Thus, the goddesses Ishtar and Aphrodite, too, were regarded as virgins, though later they were considered ‘immoral’. Ahalya, the foremost of the five Kanyas projects the essence of feminism by independently and willingly undertaking a daring act by yielding to her kutuhala or curiosity and thereby she transcends the limits or confines of her gender, asserting in the process, her strong individuality. It is this “dangerous” power of self-assertion in Ahalya that is sought to be curbed by her husband, Gautama.
Ahalya’s consequent acceptance of Gautama’s wrath and her acquiescence to his sentence of temporary segregation from society may be regarded as her awareness and acceptance of existing societal norms and traditions. Thus, she may not be regarded as a “failed Kanya” as the author asks – on the contrary, she exhibits the equivocal position of women in India, portraying “a more complex and perpetual negotiation taking place between women’s culture and general culture”.
As Gerda Lerner states :
Women live their social existence within the general culture and, whenever they are confined by patriarchal restraint or segregation into separateness (which always has subordination as its purpose), they transform this restraint into complementarity (asserting the importance of woman’s function, even its ‘superiority’) and redefine it. Thus, women live a duality – as members of the general culture and as partakers of women’s culture.
Ahalya is perhaps one of the earliest known exponents of “women’s culture” in a largely patriarchal society. Her kutuhala also leads to a partial fulfillment of the feminine jouissance, a word which to Helene Cixous denotes intense, rapturous pleasure present in women, and which Luce Irigaray interprets as a combination of the corporeal and the celestial. Significantly, Ahalya’s act differs from Irigaray’s interpretation as she seeks merely a corporeal union with a celestial being, but she nevertheless displays a variation of Irigaray’s concept of jouissance, for her union with Indra excludes any yearning for motherhood. Jouissance or ananda, in this case, reinstates a woman’s existence as an individual, feminine entity, and she is looked upon as such by her lover :
The female jouissance would [ascribe] to women freedom and a kind of mobility or fluidity … It would be possible only if women have their …. own jouissance, which they could feel …. , and undertake the upward journey necessary for their survival.
Ahalya’s independence of spirit and her desire for union with Indra may be regarded as an instance of women’s need “ to move freely [around] … an axis which grounds them in the earth and connects them to the heavens”. Gautama’s wrath at his wife’s transgression reiterates women’s “lingering status” as the “secondary sex” in Indian society which prevails even today, prompting modern intellectuals to “figure out a way to change [this] dominant [patriarchal] culture”. Ahalya thus emerges as “a metaphor for patriarchy, exploitation and society’s double standards. In the trap of modernity – science and progress … women… are expected to be superwomen.”25 Rabindranath Tagore’s poem on Ahalya, short stories, television programmes, various Bharatnatyam performances on Ahalya’s life and Dr. Pratibha Ray’s Oriya novel Mahamoha which won the Sahitya Academy Award, describing Ahalya’s journey from transgression to transcendence, continue to reinforce the essence of dynamic femininity that this first Kanya represents, which makes her pratah-smaraniya.

LIFE-PATH AS ELLIPSE

In the sixteenth century, most people believed in the ideas of the ancient astronomer Ptolemy, that all the planets, Moon, and Sun orbited around the Earth. Then in 1543, Copernicus proposed the idea that the planets and the Earth orbited around the Sun. Half a century later, Johannes Kepler sought to refine the Copernican system and truly understand how the planets move around the Sun. He studied observations of Mars recorded by his mentor, Tycho Brahe. Kepler used Tycho's observations to guide the creation of his theories. This was a radical departure from the thought processes of his era. In 1609, he published his Law of Ellipses and The Equal-Areas Law. He had succeeded in using a scientific method to create a simple, elegant, and accurate model to describe the motion of planets around the Sun.
Previous theories of the Solar System, including those of Ptolemy and Copernicus, believed that the orbits of the planets were perfect circles. Kepler was unable, however, to fit Tycho's observations with circular orbits. He rejected the ancient idea of circular orbits and discovered that the orbits of the planets are ellipses. An ellipse is a closed, curved shape that is defined by two foci. It is a like a flattened circle ; if both of the foci of an ellipse are at the same point, an ellipse becomes a circle! If you think about it, the relationship between an ellipse and a circle is like that between a rectangle and square.

An ellipse has two axes. The long one is called the major axis, and the short one is called the minor axis. (Astronomers often use the term "semimajor axis" for this). That's just half the length of the major axis!
The shape of an ellipse is measured by its eccentricity, a mathematically determined property. The "flatter" the ellipse, the greater the eccentricity. A circle, for example, has an eccentricity of zero since both foci are at the center and the distance between them is equal to zero.
As the ellipse becomes flatter and flatter, the foci get farther from the center, the distance between them larger and the eccentricity will approach, but never equal, one.
In the picture alongside, the first (top) ellipse has an eccentricity of 0.7 and the second one has an eccentricity of 0.5
Our individual life-paths may also be visualized as ellipses with the individual Ego at one focus and the divine soul at the other focus. Our aim in life should be to move towards the center and shorten the distance between the two foci, so that the eccentricity is reduced considerably and the Ego comes very near to and under the influence of the One who created and sustains all life.
(Pictures: from http://www.astro.illinois.edu/projects/data/KeplersLaws/ )

When the ellipse is considered as depicting our life-path, its two foci are: our Ego deriving its energy from the mind and the Lord who is ever-present as the Soul at the heart center. An ellipse can be drawn with two pins at the foci, a loop of string, and a pencil. The pins are fixed at the foci and a loose string is passed around them. A pencil is placed on the paper inside the string and the string is made taut. If the pencil is moved around so with the string kept taut, its tip draws the figure of an ellipse since the sum of the distances from the pencil to the pins remains constant, which is the property of the ellipse. The nearer the two pins are to each other, the greater the ellipse will be like a circle. When the two foci coincide, the ellipse becomes a circle.

Our philosophy states a similar truth. Due to agnyana (ignorance), not knowing our true connection with the supreme soul's constant presence within us, we depend wholly on knowledge derived from the Ego. We thus move farther away from our spiritual center wandering about wildly in an ever-widening orbit, increasing our eccentricity. Our life becomes erratic like that of a comet and we get burnt out.
With developing awareness of the true picture, we can move nearer to the other divine centre within us, avoid this fate and create a life-path that has progressively less eccentricity and approaches a perfect circle – a wholeness which the Upanishads proclaim as Poornam.

In this context, we may note that Gita Slokam Ch.18-61 speaks about the heart centre:

ईश्वरः सर्वभूतानां हृद्देशेऽर्जुन तिष्ठति।
भ्रामयन्सर्वभूतानि यन्त्रारूढानि मायया।।18.61।।
Ishvaraḥ sarvabhutaanaam hṛddeshe arjuna tiṣThati.
bhraamayan sarvabhhutaani yantraaruDhaani maayayaa..18.61..
61. The Lord dwells in the hearts of all beings, O Arjuna, causing all beings, by His illusive power, to revolve, as if mounted on a machine.
In his sanskrit commentary, Sri Ramanuja explains (English translation by Swami Adidevananda):

Lord Vasudeva, who is the ruler over all, lives in 'the heart of all beings,' i.e., in the region from which arises all knowledge which is at the root of all secular and spiritual activities. How and doing what does He exist? He exists enabling, by His Maya (power), 'all beings who are mounted, as it were, on the machine Prakrti' in the form of body and senses created by Himself, to act in accordance with their Gunas of Sattva and others. It was already expressed in 'And I am seated in the hearts of all. From Me are memory, knowledge and their removal also' (15.15) and in 'From Me proceed everything' (10.8). The Srutis also proclaim 'He who, dwelling in the self' (Br. U. Madh., 3.7.22).He now explains the way to get rid of the Maya
[in the next sloka: “Take refuge with all your heart, by every disposition of your body, senses and mind in Him - the ruler of all, who has become your charioteer out of compassion for dependents, and who orders you, 'Act thus' and so on.]

AHALYA EPISODE in RAMAYANA

By Rajaji

After a day's stay in the City of Visala, Viswamitra and his party left for Mithila. On the way, not far from Mithila, they saw a beautiful ashrama which seemed untenanted. Rama asked Viswamitra: "Whose is this ashrama with ancient trees? Why does such a beautiful abode stand deserted?"
Viswamitra replied: "This ashrama is subject to a curse. Sage Gautama lived here with his wife Ahalya, spending his days in peace and holy meditation. One day during the sage's absence from the ashrama, Indra, filled with unholy desire for the beautiful Ahalya, entered it disguised as Gautama and approached the lady with urgent solicitation. She was not deceived by the impersonation, but vain of her beauty and proud that it had won her the love of the lord of the celestials, she lost her judgment and yielded to his desire. When the sin had been sinned, realising its heinousness and the fierce spiritual energy of her betrayed husband, she warned Indra of his terrible peril and begged him to be gone in the instant.
Indra was fleeing in guilty panic; but unfortunately for him he almost bumped into the rishi who was just returning from his ablutions, clad in wet garments and radiating spiritual lustre. Pretence was hopeless before that all seeing wisdom and Indra bowed in abject supplication, and threw himself on the mercy of the rishi. The sage looked at him with wrath and loathing and cursed him: 'Lustful beast as you are, dead to all truth and righteousness, may your manhood fall away from you.' Indra at once became an eunuch and went back to the Devas in ignominious shame.
Then the sage turned to his erring wife and prescribed a long penance for her. He said: 'Living on air, you shall stay here, unseen by anyone. After a long time, Dasaratha's son will pass this way. When he sets foot in this ashrama, you will be freed from the curse. Welcome him as a guest. You will then recover your lost virtue and get back your own beauty.' The sage then left his violated ashrama for Himalayas to engage himself in austerities there."
Viswamitra said to Rama: "Let us enter the ashrama. You will bring redemption to Ahalya and rekindle the light in her as the sage promised." And they went into the ashrama. As Rama set foot in the ashrama, the curse was lifted and Ahalya stood before them in all her beauty. Having lain concealed behind leaves and creepers and kept her vow for many years, she now shone, says the poet, in Rama's presence, like the moon emerging from the clouds, like a flame issuing from smoke and like the sun's reflection in rippling water. Rama and Lakshmana touched the feet of the sage's wife made pure by penance. She welcomed the divine princes with all the customary rites of hospitality. A shower of flowers descended from the heavens as Ahalya, cleansed of sin, shone like a goddess. Simultaneously the sage Gautama returned to the ashrama and received his repentant and purified wife back to his affection.
…………………………………………………….
The lesson of the Ahalya episode is that, however deadly one's sin, one may hope to be freed from its consequence by penitence and punishment. Instead of condemning others for their sins, we should look within our own hearts and try to purify them of every evil thought. The best of us have need for eternal vigilance, if we would escape sin. This is the moral of Ahalya's error.

The Guru's Role

om ajnaana-timiraandhasya / jnanaanjana-shalaakaya
caksur-unmilitam yena / tasmai shri-gurave namah


Salutation (namah) to that (tasmai) Guru (gurave) by whom (yena) the eyes (cakshur) blinded (andhasya)
by the darkness (timira) of ignorance (agnyana) were opened (unmilitam) with the collyrium (anjana)-
(applied with the) sharp pencil (shalakaya) of knowledge (gnyana).
Salutations to that Guru who applies the collyrium of knowledge with a sharp needle
to open the eyes blinded due to ignorance (lack of spiritual knowledge).

The purpose of approaching the Master is explained beautifully in this second verse of the Guru Stotram - ajnaana- timiraandhasya jnaananjana shalaakayaa.

We act to achieve certain end-results; we are happy when we are successful and unhappy when fail to achieve the intended result. Life consists of a series of transactions intended for our sukha praapti ; but many times, there is only dukha and we feel disappointed and dissatisfied. Ramana Maharishi in his Upadesa Saram has compared this sorry state of affairs to falling repeatedly into the ocean of samsara and has suggested self-inquiry as a way out to derive permanent satisfaction in our lives.

By middle age, when this dissatisfaction grows and we feel lost like one blinded due to absence of the light of relevant knowledge, we approach a Guru and seek his guidance to gain gnyana drishti for leading life in a manner conducive to yield a steady, happy state of the mind which will not be easily affected by set-backs and failures.. In other words, every effort that we make is for sukha-praapti, to reach a state of satisfaction, contentment and fulfillment, but the goal is not always achieved despite our best efforts. It is then that we approach the Master and seek his help to identify for us the steps that we should take for removing the obstacles which prevent us from being happy, which stop us from being contented. We realize that due to lack of knowledge in this matter, due to our agnyana, we are presently mired in this condition of dissatisfaction with life, seeing no way out.

The Guru is the Master who can remove the disease of ajnana. But it is not as simple as removing a something that is covering what is underneath. It is a very tricky process since there is nothing really to be taken out; what is required is a transformation in us that is necessary. The Guru-doctor applies the ointment (anjana) of knowledge to our affected eye and restores the sight – he grants us the gift of gnyana drishti.

But this Guru-doctor might sometimes speak harshly, making us uncomfortable and wanting to reject him. Why? A famous teacher has given a humorous definition of Guru that really hits home: —Jo shishya ko dekhte hi gurrata hai, woh Guru hai! His purpose in doing this is to disentangle us from our entanglements. But when this happens, our tendency is to react vehemently. Our sharanagati bhaava will be sorely tested!

The Master’s role is similar to that of a sculptor, who uses his hammer and chisel to unlock the hidden potential in a stone. If the stone could communicate with us in words, it will describe the great pain it suffers with every stroke, every blow of the chisel and hammer. Finally, it seems that the torture has come to an end. The sculptor leaves the stone alone for many days. Then one day he returns and starts rubbing the surface of the stone with sand-paper to get rid of even the smallest of imperfections. The stone starts feeling, “I thought everything was done. Why is he torturing me like this again?”

But after having undergone this tortuous process, a beautiful murti emerges from the stone; the real glory of the stone is finally expressed. It is then installed in a temple. It becomes elated because it starts receiving flower garlands, it starts receiving alankara. The sculptor’s vision created from a piece of shapeless stone a beautiful art-piece that is worthy of being worshipped. But to reach that state the stone had to undergo the process of chiseling, and fine refinements. The stone acknowledges to the sculptor: “What a great opportunity you have given me to bring out the best in me!" And in all humility the sculptor replies: “I have done nothing. The potential always existed in you. All I have done is to remove that which was blocking the expression of your potential". If we substitute the words Master for the sculptor and disciple for the stone, we can fully understand the roles of the Master and his disciple.

The relationship between the Master and the student is beyond human understanding or expression in words. When we talk of the highest in love, we talk of the natural love of a mother for the children she has given birth to. The love and care of the Master for the student is born out of a deep sense of duty and responsibility that he has voluntarily accepted so that the student may reach the spiritual state in which he himself revels. His efforts to remove the ajnana, which are so painful for the disciple in the beginning, are intended for the purpose that the student can reach and enjoy the same kind of bliss that the Master is enjoying - nothing less. For, in the field of spirituality, either there is perfection or there is nothing - nothing in the middle. The Master directs all his efforts to help his disciple reach that state of perfection.

The Master is not going to change our lives, the Master is not going to change our environment; he is not going to change the world that we live in. The Master is only changing our vision, our perception. It is not the srishti that has to be changed, it is the drishti that has to change, and the Guru is the person who takes pains in changing that drishti. Here is a person who, with all love and concern, tries to tune our body, mind and intellect and dispel the darkness that we are living in so that we can understand the truth. He blesses us with that vision, drishti, so that, staying in the same srishti, we can enjoy the bliss and glory which is an expression of the Lord. In order to do this, the Guru has to wipe the slate of our mind clean and create a disciple out of us. Guru is thus Brahma, Guru is Vishnu, and Guru Himself is Mahesvara. Guru is nothing but that absolute truth and happiness which we are searching for. Why is the Guru called Brahma? Why is the Guru called Vishnu? Why is the Guru called Maheshvara? Because in spite of who we are, it is the Guru’s mission to create a disciple out us. That is no easy task. It requires total surrender by the sishya to the Guru.

Sishya is defined as —Saasanaat sisyate yah sah sishya - the one who remains in disciplined mode, who is ready for any kind of discipline that is expected by the Master. Or, to put it in very simple words, the one who has accepted the fact that he is going to be disciplined and changed. This is where the concept of sharanagati comes into play. When the Master tells the student to do something, there should be no resistance from the student like, -- "but Sir"…absolutely no choice. It took the Lord Himself eleven chapters in the Gita to create a disciple out of Arjuna whom He knew very well. It is the Master’s responsibility to create that discipleship in us. He is Brahma creating that disciple in us. He is Vishnu, who sustains us as a disciple to reach the state of perfection. How does he do this? He does it by assuming the form of Rudra, destroying, removing the ignorance that we are holding on to and which is an obstacle to our progress.

This is also the cause of confusion in the minds of people because they see a contradiction in some of the characters depicted in the Puranas. The sages are called maharishis, but the puranic accounts depict them as if they cannot control their anger. For instance, we have the oft-quoted example of Durvasa, who was a maharishi well-known for his anger. In our ignorance, we question: - if he was a Master, a maharishi, how could he get angry? We forget that our anger and the anger foof the maharishi are worlds apart. We get carried away by our anger, whereas the Master uses it so that he can correct his students. The anger of the Master is born out of love. The purpose is the betterment of the disciple so that he can grow from his present state of limited existence to that unlimited blissful existence that the Master himself has reached. It is like a mother forcing her child to take bitter medicine despite its resistance and protests. Is the mother being harsh out of love and duty or a desire merely to hurt her child? The relationship of the Guru and the disciple is similar.

The grace of the Guru expresses itself in every seeker’s life as jnana and sakti - the knowledge as well as the capacity to use that knowledge at the right moment at the right time. Jnana-sakti-samaarudah, tattva-maalaa-vibhushitah. A very beautiful picture of the Master has been painted here. Jnana-sakti-samaarudhah, he is samaarudah, he enters our life integrating these two things; he bestows upon us, he blesses us with these two things - jnanam ca saktim ca. He blesses us with knowledge and also the capacity to use that knowledge in the correct place, in the correct environment; he builds in us the awareness of the knowledge.

When we listen to Vedanta discourses, we tend to feel that we already know these principles. But knowledge lies not merely in knowing, but also in applying that knowledge, or having the sakti, the saamarthya, the capacity to do so in the right place and at the right moment.


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Reproduced above (in parts)are extracts from the article "tasmai shri gurave namah" by Br Uddhav Chaitanya; the complete, original article is at: http://www.chinmayasaaket.org/articles/uddhav/tasmai_sri_gurave_namah.pdf.

Life Eternal

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there.
I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow.
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain.
I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush,
of quiet birds in circling flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there. I did not die.
- Mary Elizabeth Frye

Boundaries in relationships

"I (mention) Arthur Schopenhauer's well known fable, a story Freud liked enough to cite in his book on group psychology (and) I paraphrase the fable as follows:
" 'A troop of porcupines is milling about on a cold winter's day. In order to keep from freezing, the animals move closer together. Just as they are close enough to huddle, however, they start to poke each other with their quills. In order to stop the pain, they spread out, lose the advantage of commingling, and begin to shiver. This sends them back in search of each other, and the cycle repeats as they struggle to find a comfortable distance between entanglement and freezing.'
The story spoke to Freud as a lesson about boundaries. ("No one can tolerate a too intimate approach to his neighbor.") It also spoke to his belief that love is everywhere a thorny affair. Freud wrote: 'The evidence ... shows that almost every intimate emotional relation between two people which lasts for some time--marriage, friendship, the relations between parents and children--contains a sediment of feelings of aversion and hostility, which only escapes perception as a result of repression'...
"All relationships ... require us to contain contradictory feelings for the same person. As the poet Molly Peacock observed: "There must be room in love for hate."
-- Deborah Anna Luepnitz, Schopenhauer's Porcupines.

A Burden that is No Burden

A troubled man named Wo could not figure out how to live. So he began meditating to find some answers. After many months he felt no progress, so he asked the temple priest for help.
The priest said, "Go see old Jah."
So he hiked to old Jah's village and came upon the happy-looking old man coming from the forest under a heavy load of firewood.
"Excuse me, honored Jah," he said. "But can you teach me the secret of life?"
Jah raised his eyebrows and gazed at Wo. Then with some effort he twisted out from beneath his great bundle of firewood and let it crash to the ground.
"There, that is enlightenment," he said, straightening up with relief and smiling.
The troubled man looked on in shock at the prickly firewood scattered over the ground. "Is that all there is to it?" he said.
"Oh, no," said Jah. Then he bent down, collected all the scattered sticks, hoisted them carefully up on his back and made ready to walk on.
"This is enlightenment, too. Come. Let's go together for tea."
So Wo walked along with Jah.
"What is old Jah showing me?" he asked.
Jah replied, "First, yes, you are suffering a heavy burden. Many do. But, much of your burden and much of your joylessness is your craving for what you can't have and your clinging to what you can't keep.
"See the nature of your burden and of the chafing you experience as you try to cling to it: useless, unnecessary, damaging - and you can let it go.
"In doing so, you find relief, and you are freer to see the blessings of life and to choose wisely to receive them."
"Thank you, old Jah," said Wo. "And why did you call picking up the burden of firewood again enlightenment as well?"
"One understanding is that some burden in life is unavoidable and even beneficial, like firewood. With occasional rest it can be managed, and with freedom from undue anxiety about it, it will not cause chafe.
"Once the undue burden is dropped, we straighten up and see and feel the wonder and power of being. Seeing others suffering without that freedom and blissful experience, we willingly and knowingly pick up their burdens out of compassion -- joining and aiding others in their various struggles for liberation, enlightenment and fulfillment."
"Thank you, Old Jah," said the exhilarated Wo. "You have enlightened me."
"Ah-so," said Jah. "Your understanding is enlightened. Now to make it part of your living and your spirit, you must go follow the practice and meditate. Then you will learn to detach yourself from your useless burden of cravings and to attach yourself to the profound source of being out of which life, creativity, joy and compassion form and flow."

"You give birth to that on which you fix your mind." -- Antoine De Saint-Exupery
Compare:
यत् भावं तत् भवति yat bhavam tat bhavati