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1. Nannaya

Early to middle eleventh century

Nannaya (also Nannayya, Nannayabhattu, Nannapārya) is the first Telugu poet whose works have survived. The tradition attributes to him not only the early books of the Telugu Mahābhārata but also the first Telugu grammar (in Sanskrit), āndhra-śabda-cintāmani. The first poet is thus, by definition, the first grammarian—vāg-anuśāsanudu, "legislator of language"—as well. The phrase, rooted in the later literary tradition, imitates one of Nannaya's: he refers to himself as vipula-śabda-śāsanudu, "an authority on language"; the implication is one of control and power over words. The attribution of grammatical sŪtras to Nannaya is, however, unlikely in the extreme.

By his own description, Nannaya was a kula-brāhmana, "family guru," of the Eastern Chālukya king Rājarājanarenda, who ruled from Rajahmundry in the Godavari Delta (1018–1061). In the preface to his Mahābhārata, Nannaya tells us that this king commissioned the work, the foundational text of classical Telugu literature. Rājarājanarendra's rule was unstable; he was constantly embroiled in conflict with his half-brother Vijayâditya, the son of his father's Telugu wife (Rājarājanarenda was himself the son of a Tamil wife, Kundavai). It is not impossible that the factor motivating this Tamil king to patronize a Telugu work was his wish to make himself more popular among his Telugu-speaking subjects.

Nannaya completed only the first two and a half books of the Mahābhārata (up to 3.4.1422). His final verse is a lyrical description of an autumnal moment in the forest:

	śārada-ratrul' ujjvala-lasattara-tāraka-hāra-pañktulan
	cārutarambul' ayyě vikasan-nava-kairava-gandha-bandhuro-
	dāra-samīra-saurabhamu dālci sudhāmśu-vikīryamāna-kar-
	pŪra-parāga-pāndu-ruci-pŪramulan paripŪritambulai.

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	Autumn nights under the glowing canopy of stars,
	dense with the wind-borne fragrance
	of unfolding water lilies,
	flooded with light white as camphor
	flowing down from the moon … [1] Nannaya,āndhra-mahābhāratamu (Hyderabad: Andhra Pradesh Sahitya Akademi, 1970), 3.4.1422.

But there is an alternate, and better, reading for the concluding line: pŪramul' ambara-pŪritambulai,

	flooded with light white as camphor
	flowing down from the moon,
	and filled with sky.

The oral cātu tradition naturally prefers (and perhaps even created) this latter reading, which also allows for a pregnant pun: dividing the words differently, we get-para-pŪritambulai, "completed by others." This, says the tradition, is evidence that Nannaya knew that this verse was his last and that his work would be completed by others.

A collaborator, Nārāyana Bhattu, is mentioned by Nannaya in his preface. There is an inscription of 1051, composed by Nannaya himself, in which the king donates the village of NandampŪdi to this Nārāyana Bhattu.

[2] See K. Venkatanarayanaravu, āndhra vānmaya caritra sangrahamu (Madras: Vavilla Ramasvamisastrulu, 1936; reprinted 1967), 43.

Nannaya's style, combining long Sanskrit compounds and Dravidianbased Telugu words and adapting a variety of Sanskrit and regional meters to his narrative purpose, became the paradigm for classical poetry in Telugu in all subsequent centuries. His mellifluous textures have no precedent in Telugu; he is always lyrical, laconic, and precise. In this sense, the traditional vision of Nannaya as the original maker of literature is fully justified.

ENTERING THE MAHāBHāRATA

[3] 1.1.1–32.

	śrī, Vānī, Girijā: three goddesses
	forever inhabit chest, face, and body
	of three gods who hold the world on course
	without a break, wherever
	female joins with male.

	In these three males, whom the gods adore,
	the three Vedas have taken form:
	Purusottama, the Highest Male,
	Ambuja-bhava, Lotus-Born,
	and Black-Throat, śrī-kandhara.
― 57 ―
	Let goodness come
	from them
	for you. [4] This first verse of invocation is entirely in Sanskrit, in a subtly musical texture uniquely characteristic of Nannaya.

This is praise for the lords who protect the whole universe, the very first, Hari, Hara, and Hiranya-garbha, husbands to Padma, Uma, and Vāni.

[5] A dangling nonfinite verb, stutiyiñci, ends this sentence, implying that the poet is the subject.

Their blessing has sustained the brilliant and ever-expanding kingdom of Rājarājanarendra. All his enemies have been subdued by the strength of his arm; he is like an ocean rich with gems, the manifold virtues sung all over this world.

	Ravishing as the moon, he alone adorns the class of kings,
	outshines the splendor of other rulers; a true warrior,
	he illumines all worlds like pure moonlight on an autumn night.
	He, Rājamahendra, has put his enemies to rest
	with his indomitable arm—a honed sword—
	as a shower of rain settles dust. [6] An untranslatable pun hinges on dhārā, both the blade of a sword and a flood of water.

Vimalāditya's son, lucid in thought, trained in the science of Kumāra,

[7] We are unable to identify this kumāra-vidyā. Kumāra is, however, one of the primary teachers of traditional erudition in the south Indian (Tamil) sources.

a good Chālukya, luminous as the moon, finds peace in studying the ancient texts.

[8] āgamas.

	Rising like the sun, he dispels the dense fog,
	natural to this Iron Age,
	of vicious evil. His rule
	brings joy to his people like eternal springtime;
	in the heart of this Chālukya who is Desire,
	compassion flows into what is right.

	He sustains anyone who comes to him for help.
	Endlessly playful, he values the vast efforts scholars must make.
	His joy is in giving, and his greatness lies
	in watching over the ancient order of place and time. [9] Varnâśrama-dharma.
	He supports all the worlds, like the First Kings. [10] A Jaina concept? But cf. Dandin, Kāvyâdarśa ed. O. Böhtlingk (Leipzig: H. Haessel, 1890), 1.4.
	His story has no stain.
― 58 ―
	Happily he raises his subjects like children.
	Happily he holds down the kings of other lands,
	and takes their taxes.
	If any king refuses to give, he subdues him by force.
	His command encompasses every corner.
	He takes care of Brahmins, and shelters anyone in fear.

	He gives whole villages to the highest born,
	maintains temple lands in all their richness.
	Firm in the path of Manu, this Visnuvardhana is his family's pride.

If the earth is a beautiful woman enveloped by all the seas, then Vengi

[11] Vengi is a general name for the Krishna-Godavari Delta, the heartland of the Eastern Chālukya rule.

is her necklace, and the central stone in that necklace is the royal city, Rājamahendrapuram.

[12] Present-day Rajahmundry.

One day the king was holding court there, in his enchanting palace where all the world's wealth resides, as if he were the king of the gods, vibrant with joy and the unlimited goodness that comes with kingship. Serving him were his ministers and priests, generals and policemen, ushers, chief ministers, an infinity of lesser kings, and lovely women; also specialists in grammar who had reached the end of the endless study of words; masters of ancient lore, beginning with Bhārata and Rāmayana and many other purānas;

[13] For Nannaya, the two Nannaya, the two "epics" are included in the class of Purānas, "ancient knowledge."

great poets skilled in inventing new ways of uttering poetic speech, soft and delicious; penetrating logicians who had immersed themselves in all kinds of reasoning; and other gifted people. Sitting at his ease in this atmosphere of learned conversation, he was enjoying his favorite stories. That was when he looked at Nannapārya—

	his family's Brahmin, devoted to them,
	given to sacrifice and prayer.
	He was an authority on language,
	versed in Veda but also delighting in various purānas,
	Brahmând.a and others;
	a worthy member of the āpastamba line
	and the Mudgala lineage.
	His character was known to be blameless,
	and he knew the ways of the world.
	He was famous for composing in both languages, [14] Sanskrit and Telugu.
	deservedly ranked as brilliant,
― 59 ―
	always truthful, wise as the teacher of the gods, [15] Brhaspati.
	a good man.

The illustrious Chālukya king, supremely knowledgeable in dharma, gently said:

	"I've listened to many ancient books with a stainless heart.
	I've learned the ways kings must rule, and people live.
	I've watched many surpassing plays, read eloquent poems vibrant with
	meaning.
	I've set my heart on temple texts that speak of God.
	Nonetheless, ceaselessly I desire to hear what the Mahābhārata seeks
	to say.

	Five things never fail me, always give me joy:
	the intense pleasure that comes from satisfying the earthly gods; [16] Brahmins.
	delight in listening to the Bhārata;
	contemplating śiva's feet, in continuous celebration;
	unbounded desire to give;
	and the constant company of good men.

	Furthermore,
	my lineage begins with the moon, and then proceeds
	through Puru, Bharata, Kuru, and King Pāndu
	The stories of Pāndu's famous sons, virtuous and beyond blame
	are ever close to my heart.

	You could give a hundred dark cows, with golden horns and hooves,
	to the most learned Vedic Brahmins: listening to Mahābhārata
	is as good as that. My mind inclines day and night
	to those stories.

	With all your learning, please compose in Tenugu
	a book that makes clear
	what the celebrated Krsna Dvaipāyana spoke,
	the proven meaning bound to the Mahābhārata text.

	Those who hear Mahābhārata in many languages,
	in many styles,
	from many tellers,
	always wanting these stories,
	all the rewards of many offerings will forever
	be theirs."

---

When the poet heard this command of the king, he replied:

	"Counting the infinite canopy of stars,
	reaching the ultimate end of all Vedic knowledge,
	swimming by strength of mind
	through the expanse of words
	and meanings, deep as an impassable sea,
	that are Mahābhārata—
	are such things possible
	even for the God who created us?

Yet, my lord, by your command and with the support of the learned scholars, in so far as I am able, I will compose this poem."

	He prayed to the gods, Hari, Hara, Aja, Ganeśa,
	SŪrya, Skanda, the Mothers,
	Sarasvati, Pārvati, and others.
	He thought, with devotion, of the great Vālmīki, our teacher,
	who withstood the hardships of inner discipline [17] Tapas. and created,
	like God Brahmā himself, the art of making poems. [18] Following the suggestion of Ravva śrīhari, we read guru and padya-vidyakun ādyun as separate epithets. It is also possible to read guru-padya-vidyakkun ādyun, "(who created …) the art of making long poems."

	Then he worshiped Vyāsa, Parāśara's son,
	great in fame among the sages,
	who drove away the black distortions of ignorance
	with the burning words of his Mahābhārata
	and opened up scholars' minds
	just as sunrise makes darkness retreat
	and the lotus unfold.

	There are assemblies where a subtle fragrance of wisdom
	pervades the air as in pools of perfect lotus flowers,
	accessible to all, and the good lives those scholars lead
	purify and please like flowing water:
	joyfully he praised them all. [19] We have no evidence for assemblies of scholars of this sort, unless Nannaya is here carrying on an image taken from the southern (Tamil) tradition—the legend of the Cankam academies.

	Like Nārāyana, [20] Krsna. who stayed with Arjuna through the terrible
	Mahābhārata war, Nārāyana Bhattu of the Vanasa Brahmins,
― 61 ―
	Nannaya's classmate and close friend, learned in literature,
	worked with him at this long task.

	For the good of the world, Nannaya became absorbed
	in composing in Tenungu the Mahābhārata collection.
	Steeped in wisdom, his words
	glow with multiple meanings: poets with penetrating minds
	follow the lively narrative through to its inner purpose,
	while others give themselves to the harmony of sounds.

	Those who understand the order of things
	think it is a book about order.
	Metaphysicians call it Vedânta.
	Counselors read it as a book about conduct.
	Poets read it as a poem.
	Grammarians find here usages for every rule.
	Narrators of the past see it as ancient record.
	Mythologists know it to be a rich collection of myth.
	Vyāsa, the first sage, who knew the meaning of all the Vedas,
	Parāśara's son, equal to Lord Visn, made the Mahābhārata
	a universal text.

UDANKA AND THE SNAKES

[21] 1.1.91–126.

There was this Udanka, a student of Paila's, as good as Brahmā himself, who could wash away evil with his inner discipline as water removes mud—a fearless man. In his guru's house he served his elders and achieved knowledge through single-minded concentration and, through his teacher's kindness, the eight superskills.

[22] The set of Yogic siddhis, beginning with animan (mentioned in Nannaya's text), the ability to make oneself as small as an atom, etc.

To please his teacher, in accordance with a request from the teacher's wife, he undertook to bring the earrings of King Pausya's queen. He was walking alone through the wilderness when he saw a striking man riding a huge bull; the man ordered him to eat the bull's dung. Passing this test, Udanka was blessed by the man and rapidly went on to see Pausya. He greeted the king and was honored by him. He said:

	"I came here as a suppliant for the sake of my teacher.
	Punisher of enemies, give me, now, the earrings of your queen,
	so that my mission can be fulfilled."

---

Pausya was overjoyed at this opportunity of giving something to so worthy a recipient and said: "As it happens, my wife is just about to put on those earrings. Go take them from her in my name." Udanka went to the inner chambers but could not find the queen anywhere. Returning to the king, he said: "Your queen is nowhere to be seen. You go bring the earrings for me."

	pausya said:"Your presence purifies the three worlds.
	No one could say anything against you.
	How could I call you unclean? But my chaste
	and blameless queen cannot be seen
	by one impure."

When he heard this, Udanka thought: "It must be because I ate that cow dung and became impure. What else could explain the fact that so devoted a wife escapes my vision?" So he faced east and washed his hands and feet and mouth with water, took a ritual sip, and, at Pausya's urging, again approached the queen. This time she greeted the sage and offered him her earrings:

	"Taksaka, king of snakes, is after these earrings.
	He's impenetrable, and he's tricky.
	Guard them well from him
	as you go now, Brahmin brilliant as the sun."

Udanka promised to do so, and took his leave. As he was going, Pausya invited him: "You're a guest in my house. Eat something before you go." Udanka agreed. But as he was eating, he was disgusted to find a hair in the rice. Angry, he cursed the king: "You served me unclean food without examining it. Therefore, go blind." Pausya gave him a counter-curse: "Since you have cursed me for a minor omission, you will never have a son." Udanka said: "I cannot bear to be without a son. Take back your curse." Pausya replied:

	"A full heart is like butter freshly churned.
	Speech cuts, adamantine and sharp.
	So it goes for Brahmins. For kings,
	the opposite is true. So a Brahmin can,
	but a king can never,
	take back a curse, even if appeased.

So I am unable to do so. But please reverse your curse." Udanka said: "In that case, you will soon be released from my curse." And he left. He was thinking happily that he had got the earrings to give to his teacher's wife. In front of him he saw a pool. Putting down the earrings in a clean place,

---

he was sipping the water when Taksaka, who had been following him closely, took them in the guise of a naked man and fled. Udanka pursued him.

	The king of snakes abandoned that naked guise
	without abandoning the earrings. Visible
	in his true form, he slithered into the underworld
	through a hole in the earth.

Udanka ran right behind him into the serpents' domain. He praised the great snakes:

	"Sustaining on his thousand hoods
	the dense burden of the earth,
	all forests and oceans and rooted mountains
	and rushing rivers and lakes, the Snake
	called Infinite softly bears the unbearable body
	of the god who sleeps on water.
	Won't he make an end to whatever
	was badly done, and be kind to me?

	Through his inner power, he protects all snakes
	from the torments of the antigods.
	A great hero, he graces the body of the god
	married to the Mountain's daughter, [23] śiva, married to Pārvatī.
	the one all gods and their enemies serve,
	crowned heads bowing at his feet.
	Won't Vāsuki be kind to me?

	They wander among the worlds of gods and humans.
	A furious power fuses their energy and their rage.
	With burning venom they consume their foes in every world.
	Won't those honorable and dreadful snakes
	of Airāvata's clan be kind to me?

	The wild Taksaka roams at will
	together with Aśvasena through the thickets
	of the rooted mountains, the open spaces,
	and the Kuru land. Won't this stubborn, overpowering king
	of those creatures who hear with their eyes [24] īksana-śrotra: snakes are thought to use their eyes for ears.
	be kind to me?"

---

After he had sung to the clans of snakes in this way, he saw two women weaving a fabric with threads black and white, six young men turning a twelve-spoked wheel, and a striking man astride a huge horse. Again he sang with deep concentration, verses rich in meaning. The striking man was pleased and said:

	"You utter truth, and my heart is happy
	with unerring praise. Tell me what it is
	you want and I will do that
	for you."

Udanka was very glad: "Please give me power over all these serpent clans."Said the man: "In that case, blow into the ear of this horse."

[25] Note that in the Sanskrit Mahābhārata, Udanka is asked to blow into the horse's anus.

Udanka obeyed, and at once

	flames emerging from all the orifices of the horse
	filled every space in every house in the netherworld,
	and the snakes were terrified. The heart of their king
	burst open in a moment more shattering than the end of time,
	when the submarine mare spits out an all-consuming fire.

	In his terror, Taksaka brought the earrings back
	and gave them to Udanka, who, he feared,
	might be able, like śiva, to burn the world
	with his Brahmin anger.

Udanka, after wreaking havoc in the world of the snakes and thus getting back the earrings from Taksaka, thought to himself:

"My teacher's wife told me to bring these earrings within four days. Today is the day she has to wear them. Can I get there in time? How do I get out of this house of snakes? If I fail to go there today, this enormous effort will have been wasted." The striking man saw how worried he was, and said: "Mount this horse and go, for he is faster than thought, faster than wind."

Udanka followed this command. The very moment he mounted the horse he was in his teacher's house. There the wife had taken her bath and put on new clothes; she was waiting to put on the earrings, hoping Udanka would arrive. Right then she saw him. Happily, she put on those diamond earrings, worshiped the Brahmins, and completed the ritual she had vowed to perform.

So Udanka had carried out his teacher's mission. His teacher looked at him and said:

---

	Pausya's city is right around the corner
	from here, but you seem to have traveled
	a very long way. You have immense, pure
	inner strength. So why did you take
	so many days?"

Udanka replied: "You're right, there was no need to tarry so long. But I had no choice—because of Taksaka, the vicious snake, who put obstacles in my way. Listen. Right after leaving you, I saw a striking, blazing man riding a huge bull. He ordered me to eat the bull's dung. Then I went on and took the earrings from Pausya's queen. On my way back, they were stolen by Taksaka. I followed him into the netherworld, where I sang praises to all the great snakes. There I saw two women weaving a fabric with threads black and white, six young men turning a twelve-spoked wheel, and a striking man astride a huge horse. Through his blessing I got the earrings, and at his command I mounted the horse and came here. Tell me what all this means." The teacher said:

"That man is Indra. The bull is Airāvata. The dung you ate is the essence of immortality. The two women you saw in the snakes' domain are Dhāta and Vidhāta, who propose and dispose. The fabric they were weaving with threads black and white is day and night. The twelve-spoked wheel is the year with its twelve months. The six young men are the six seasons. The horse is Fire. The man is Parjanya, lord of rain, a friend of Indra's. Sage that you are, once you saw Indra and ate the essence, you were able to achieve what you wanted.

	You gave us a pleasing gift, and,
	destroyer of enemies, you will reap the fruit.
	When someone is attentive to his teacher's needs,
	vast rewards will be his.

My heart is happy because of you. You are now free from your debt to your teacher. Go your way." So with his teacher's permission, Udanka gave himself to inner discipline for a long time. He was thinking about taking revenge for the harm Taksaka had done him. One day he went to King Janamejaya and said:

	"Janamejaya, ruler of men, your words
	are measured, wise, and true. I was on my
	way to serve my revered teacher, and Taksaka knew.
	With a mind bent on deception, for no apparent reason,
	he caused me harm, for his whole nature
	is deformed, and he is empty of any sense
	of who he is, or others are.
― 66 ―
	What is more,

	your father Pariksit was a good man,
	peaceful, given to rituals and charity,
	devoted to the Bhārata clan. He was just like
	Arjuna; he cared for everyone in his kingdom.
	That same wretched snake killed him,
	sent him down to the world of Death,
	biting him with his burning venom
	that no one could survive.

	With no qualms at all, he did me a dark disservice,
	assuming I was only a lonely Brahmin.
	Now you should turn him and all the snakes
	to ashes, in a sacrifice of serpents performed
	by many Brahmins, totally consuming them
	in furious flame.

	If one person is bad, his whole family will be blamed.
	There's nothing unusual about that.
	So, because of that despicable Taksaka,
	you should wipe out all the snake-clans
	by hurling them into the fire.
	Use your wisdom, let Brahmins
	perform this rite for you."

That is how Udanka planted the idea of a serpent sacrifice in Janamejaya's mind.