THE LOVE OF INDRA AND AHALYA [2] Samukhamu Venkatakrsnappa Nāyaka,Ahalyā-sankrandanamu, ed. Bommakanti Venkata Singaracarya and Balantrapu Nalinikanta Ravu (Madras: Emesco, 1971), 3 [selected verses]. [When Brahmā created Ahalyā, the most beautiful woman in the cosmos, Indra, king of the gods, saw her and fell in love, but Brahmā married her to the crusty old sage Gautama. Ahalyā, for her part, also dreamed of the king of the gods.] | | One day a Yogini, who could make impossible things happen, | | | came to see Ahalyā. Bowing to her, Ahalyā seated her | | | and asked: "Where are you going, and where do you live? | | | What brought you here?" |
― 280 ― | | She answered: "I live in God's world, | | | but I move through all worlds with my yogic power. | | | When śiva and Pārvatī, or Visnu and Laksmi, | | | or Brahmā and Sarasvati have trouble | | | in their love life, I help them make up. |
| | Yesterday I saw Indra in his garden, and my heart | | | broke. He's really in bad shape. |
| | The wishing trees, scorched by his sighs, | | | have turned black as a peacock's tail. | | | His desire, so fierce it could inflame the world, | | | has dried up the heavenly river. | | | The monsoon is nothing | | | compared to the tears from his eyes. | | | His diamond weapon has shattered in pity | | | at his heart-wrenching laments. | | | No words can describe his state. | | | He is lovesickness itself. |
| | I wondered who that heartless woman is | | | who is causing such pain | | | to the king of the worlds. | | | So I hid behind a bush and overheard, | | | as Indra spoke in the unbearable pain of love: |
| | ‘Why did Brahmā make her? | | | And why did he make me? | | | Why did he give her such maddening power | | | over me, such breathtaking charm? | | | Why did he put such weakness | | | in my mind? I can't find anyone | | | in the entire universe who could bring her | | | my message. |
| | I can't see her even in a dream, since I cannot sleep. | | | I can't paint her picture, because my eyes blur with tears. | | | If I meditate on her, I'll go crazy. | | | Good god, how can I survive this torment?' |
| | Then he painted her image on a canvas, | | | his body thrilling to the sight, and he held the picture | | | to his breast. |
| | The woman he painted looks just like you. | | | Love never discriminates against anybody. | | | He puts everyone through pain. |
― 281 ― | | | Indra kisses the picture; if it doesn't kiss back, | | | he begs. He embraces it. If he doesn't feel | | | the press of breasts, he complains. | | | He tries to untie the knot on the sari. | | | When it doesn't come off, he's restless, | | | rolling in bed. He blames fate. Blames himself. | | | Blames you. |
| | Yama and Varuna seek his favor. | | | The texts praise his beauty and his deeds. | | | Visnu stands guard at his door. | | | That god of gods wants you; what a lucky woman you are! |
| | Begging for more, scratching your cheek, | | | moaning and making you moan, | | | little tiffs and making up, | | | pillow talk, new ways of kissing, | | | twining thigh and thigh, | | | playing with lips, changing positions— | | | if a husband doesn't know how, | | | sex is no fun. |
| | They wear their bodies thin in rites and fasts. | | | They make love silently and quickly, head covered, | | | face turned away in disgust, just to pay their debt | | | to the ancestors. These spiritual types | | | who torture the hearts of young, vigorous women | | | are no better than beasts. |
| | ‘Today is new moon.’ | | | ‘Today is full moon.’ | | | ‘The sun enters a new constellation today.’ | | | ‘This is the equinox.’ | | | ‘Today is the 11th (or the 12th, or the 13th).’ | | | ‘Tonight is śivāratri.’ | | | ‘I'm fasting.’ | | | ‘Your fertile season is past.’ | | | ‘Let it go for today.’ | | | ‘Control yourself.’ |
| | Weak, cruel men have a lot of excuses | | | to ruin a woman's bubbling youth. | | | It's a sin to be married." |
| | Ahalyā feigned anger, but she was smiling. | | | "How can you talk like that to me? |
― 282 ― | | | Do you think I'm that kind of woman? | | | I guess you do. You don't know me or my mind. |
| | Did you ever see me looking at anybody else? | | | Have I stood near another man, or laughed with him? | | | What have I done? Who is Indra to me anyway? | | | This kind of fun—for me? | | | I'm living in a corner of this jungle, | | | and you want to bring me out into the open? |
| | Decorating the altar, setting up the sacrifice, | | | gathering the oblations, bringing flowers, | | | fetching water for puja—those are tasks | | | for women like me. Don't take me lightly, | | | my friend." |
| | The Yogini smiled mildly. | | | "You have full, dark hair, | | | breasts rising like hills, | | | buttocks fleshy as sandbanks. | | | How could I take you lightly? |
| | You're one of the five most beautiful women | | | in the world. [3] The list of these five women (pañca-kanyā) includes Ahalyā, Draupadi, Tāra (Brhaspati's wife), Tāra (Vālin's wife), and Mandodari (Rāvana's wife). Note, however, that Ahalyā joins this list only after the events described here! A popular Sanskrit verse says that if one reads their stories constantly, all sins will be dissolved (ahalyā drauapadī tārā tārā mandodarī yatha/pañcakanyāh pather nityam sarva-pāpa-vināśanam). The irony of the verse lies in the fact that all five women are said, in popular tradition, to have had extramarital affairs. | | | You can discipline yourself endlessly, | | | perform your wifely duties loyally, | | | fast and keep vows, go on pilgrimage— | | | but the pleasure of embracing a handsome, | | | playful man won't come | | | from any of the above. |
| | When the senses stop wandering | | | and settle in one place, | | | and the mind forgets itself in a joy | | | that goes beyond thought: | | | that happiness is God. | | | A young woman can find it— | | | if she finds the right lover. |
― 283 ― | | | To be alive is a rare gift. | | | To be born a human being is the best result | | | of many good deeds. And to be born a woman | | | is luckier still, for women have extra desire | | | and pleasure in sex. If you don't fulfill it, | | | that's a sin, a kind of suicide. There's nothing worse. |
| | Dupe the mother-in-law, hoodwink the husband, | | | take the blame if need be, do whatever it takes | | | to meet the lover you want and explode | | | in pleasure: if a woman won't do this, | | | what's the point of being young? Why be born? |
| | Why be sad? The lord of the universe | | | is in love with you. Can't you see how good it is? | | | You're sitting on a fortune. Cash in on it, | | | don't be helpless. I know your heart. | | | You gain nothing by being chaste." |
| | A gentle light spread over Ahalyā's face. | | | Shyly, she bent her head and said, | | | with a sweet voice: |
| | "Are these thatched forest sheds | | | golden palaces with painted pictures? | | | Is this hermitage the kind of thoroughfare | | | that Indra likes, where gods mingle with other | | | marvelous beings? And these wild trees, | | | are they anything like those that fulfill all wishes | | | in Indra's heaven? The antelope and deer | | | are quite unlike majestic elephants. | | | And as for me, I'm nothing like Indrāni, | | | his elegant, accomplished wife. There's no way Indra | | | could love me. Kings just look for a new taste. |
| | Anyway, a woman shouldn't think of anyone | | | except the husband who took her hand. | | | You must be very courageous to speak like this. | | | But it isn't proper." |
| | The Yogini laughed, stroking Ahalyā's hair. | | | "My word is as good as the Veda. I never lie. | | | At the very moment you were created, [4] In this text, Ahalyā was created as a fully mature woman. Indra |
― 284 ― | | | took your hand. If you don't believe me, | | | ask your husband: he was there. |
| | Don't you know that the ancient texts refer to Indra | | | as "Ahalyā's lover"? [5] Quoting, anachronistically, the Vedic epithet: ahalyāyai jārah. |
| | Hearing this, Ahalyā felt the stirrings of desire | | | for Indra, but she thought, with fear, | | | of her husband. She couldn't say yes or no, | | | and her heart was tossed back and forth. |
| | "When the sharp arrows of Desire | | | strike the most vulnerable spots | | | and longing grows, only to die in the heart, | | | a woman should turn herself to stone | | | and give up all thought of pleasure. | | | Can a woman move from her place | | | once she has shown her body to one man? |
| | Like a pot of money reflected in a mirror, | | | or fruit beyond reach on the tree, | | | or the sandalwood tree circled by an angry serpent, [6] Folk belief asserts that the sandalwood tree is always covered by snakes, who prevent access; for this reason, one never actually attains real sandalwood but only wood from neighboring trees, impregnated with the sandalwood fragrance. | | | or fine food laced with deadly poison, | | | a married woman can't easily be touched. | | | So stop spinning dreams: just go tell Indra. |
| | If a handsome man comes anywhere near the house, | | | the father-in-law begins to burn. | | | If you visit your mother for more than half a day, | | | your mother-in-law cuts you like a knife. | | | If you spend a minute or two at the neighbors', | | | your sister-in-law pinches you like pincers. | | | Even when you get your period, you're not allowed out of sight. [7] Among Brahmins, menstruating women are not allowed to stay in the house for three days. | | | Younger sisters-in-law are tale-bearing whores. | | | Your co-wives are so jealous they gossip all the time. | | | The brother-in-law wreaks vengeance. | | | For a married woman who wants to take a lover, | | | her husband's house is a prison. |
― 285 ― | | | My husband keeps close watch on me. | | | I don't know what's in his mind. | | | No one can come or go in this house to do it here. |
| | There was that woman Tāra and her lover, the Moon. [8] The story of Tāra, the wife of the sage Br. haspati, and her lover Candra was, like that of Ahalyā and Indra, popular in the Nāyaka period. See Tārā-śasânka-vijayamu of śesamu Venkatapati, and discussion in Symbols of Substance. | | | They were lucky. Who else has that kind of courage? | | | Neither men nor women. |
| | Tell him to give up these thoughts of me. | | | Who am I to him? | | | Ask him to contain the pain of love | | | for once, as I do. |
| | Tell him I love him. I think of him all the time. | | | Tell him I'm in bed with him, always, | | | in my mind. |
| | You're like my mother: why should I hide anything | | | from you? When once in a while my old husband | | | makes love to me, I close my eyes | | | and pretend he is Indra. |
| | It's time to light the evening fire. Go now," | | | she said. So the Yogini left as the sun set, | | | as if unwilling to look at this woman any more. |
| | That night, Gautama, disciplined in yoga, | | | exhausted by long recitation, | | | spread his antelope skin beneath a tree |
| | and lay down to sleep. Ahalyā, a bit aroused, | | | touched him with her fingernails | | | as if intending to massage his feet. | | | "Woman, it's sixteen days since your period. | | | The time is over. Why break the rule | | | for nothing?" he said. |
| | She began to think: "If only | | | Indra were here. He would know | | | my mood and satisfy me." | | | But she said to the sage, |
― 286 ― | | | "Don't worry. I'm not thinking of that. | | | I just came to sleep at your feet." | | | But she was angry, and turned her face away. | | | He, on the other hand, sank at once | | | into an ocean of deep serenity. |
| | Meanwhile, the king of the gods | | | knew, through yogic powers— | | | that is, the Yogini's report— | | | of Ahalyā's painful state. He thanked | | | the Yogini for her skillful handling | | | of the matter and accepted the mission | | | of love. He knew he had to venture [9] Reading, with the editors, samyogamu sāhasa-kriya prayogamu seyaka kudaud.* | | | making love to her secret, |
| | so he become a cock and crowed, "Kokkarokko!" | | | The sage woke up, chanting God's names. [10] Literally, "thinking of Vāmana" (the dwarf avatar of Visnu). | | | Without checking the time, he quickly went off | | | to the river to bathe. |
| | Indra appeared now as Gautama and, | | | urgent in the dense darkness, | | | took Ahalyā's hand. |
| | "Young woman," he said, "that wasn't the morning call. | | | The cock was thinking of his mate. There's most of the night, | | | still, before dawn. Come to bed." |
| | Doubt arose in her heart. She smiled and thought, | | | "This must be Indra or someone like him | | | in the guise of the sage, come to take me. | | | This is not my husband." Fear, love, and a gentle charm | | | combined as she held his hand and said, |
| | "Earlier, when I was tortured by my thoughts, | | | you said, in a stern voice, that the time was past— | | | that it wasn't right. You sent me away. | | | Why are you begging for it now? | | | Who are you? Don't lie to me." |
| | "I'm the one who took your hand before, | | | in Brahmā's presence. Don't you recognize me? |
― 287 ― | | | No sin will come to that person | | | who has vowed to make love every day, | | | or any day, no matter what, in or out of season." |
| | She understood his double meaning, knew | | | he was Indra come to embrace her. | | | She wanted to talk to him and see him. |
| | "The old man has never shown me | | | so much love. You're not my husband. | | | I don't know who you are. I won't stand for it | | | if you force me into it without showing me | | | who you are. If you beg for buttermilk, | | | why hide the pot?" |
| | A gold-embroidered shawl on his shoulders, | | | necklaces of pearl, golden bracelets and armlets, | | | garlands of flowers from the wishing tree, fragrance | | | of camphor and musk: Indra stood before her | | | in his own body, the very form of love. |
| | She saw him, his body glowing. Sweat broke out | | | all over, and her hairs stood on end. | | | Trembling with excitement, she offered up to him the looks | | | that slipped sideways from her dark eyes. |
| | "My lord," she said, "lover of śaci, [11] Indrāni, Indra's consort. | | | what brings you here?" | | | "To drink in your beauty." | | | "What beauty is there in a forest girl?" | | | "Who cares where a jewel is embedded?" | | | "You're just saying that out of kindness." | | | "I swear by the Love God that it's true." | | | "But why did you come dressed like my husband?" | | | "So you could be a wife. |
| | Let me kiss you now, to wash away | | | the insipid aftertaste of ambrosia. | | | I'm tired of my golden mountain; | | | just let me touch your splendid breasts. | | | I'm bored with the blossoms from the wish-giving tree; | | | let me lie in your soft embrace. |
― 288 ― | | | I want to study the movements of your thighs; | | | help me forget the dull hours wasted with Rambha. [12] One of the ravishing apsaras-courtesans of the gods. | | | Too long have my hands clutched the huge temples | | | of my regal elephant; they crave to stroke your bottom." |
| | And he fell at her feet, brushing them with his golden crown, | | | studded with gems, and he wouldn't get up. | | | "My lord," she said, "it isn't right for you to bow to me. | | | Please get up. You are my god and my king." | | | She raised him, bringing his chest close to her burning breasts. |
| | He hung on to her hands and pressed against her breasts, | | | as if she were a raft that would bear him across the vast ocean | | | of his hunger, or as a jasmine vine coils around a sweet mango tree. [13] Note that here Indra is compared to the vine, almost always a feminine image in Indian poetry. | | | He was intoxicated at the gentle comfort of her touch. |
| | After a little while, she pushed him with her breasts, | | | and he, thrilling, tried to kiss her, greedily. | | | She turned away a little. "Come to the bedroom," | | | she said. "But there are some conditions to be fulfilled." |
| | Holding his hand, she led him to the bed of flowers. | | | She sat him down, thigh touching thigh, and said | | | in mellifluous tones: |
| | "I'll scratch you on your face, | | | but you're not allowed to scratch my breasts. | | | I'll bite your lip, but you can't bruise mine. | | | I'll run my fingers through your hair, but you must not | | | pull my braid. I'll cover your throat with musk, | | | but you're not allowed to smear my body. | | | You can moan as much as you want, but I won't utter a sound. | | | If you agree to all the above, my kingly lover, | | | I'll go where you want to go." |
| | He smiled. "Agreed," he said, certain | | | that all the rules in the world | | | would be washed away when they got to bed. | | | He held her, and she pressed against him. | | | He kissed her lips. She scratched his cheeks. | | | The battle began. |
― 289 ― Burning with eagerness to begin, they were maddened by the heavy perfumes of sandal and musk. She was as if possessed by hunger for him, but also held back by shyness she couldn't shake, and as she struggled, he gathered her up in his embrace, but she slipped away; he reached for her full, luscious breasts, and she pushed away his hand; he tried to stroke her hair, black as night, but she shook him off; he scratched at her smooth cheek, and she turned her head; he sucked at her lower lip, streaming with the sweetness of heaven, but she averted the kiss. He tried to touch the golden palace of love, softer than the most delicate of flowers, yet she was still not ready, and stopped him, but he tricked her into forgetting and carried her to the bed of blossoms. He cajoled her, held her, embraced her, warned her, twined himself into her, hand to hand, hair to hair, moving toward that, untying the knot on her sari, kissing her right through her lips, mounting her, and she was moaning and murmuring sweet throat-sounds like the cuckoo in its cry, and they were calling out to each other yes, more, good, don't stop, their bodies pressed against one another, inventing new names, never known before, their eyes half-closed as they reached toward the highest point of love, which is infinite. | | "When did you learn to murmur like the dove's cooing? | | | When did you practice so many ways of kissing? | | | Where did you learn how to use your fingernails to give delight? | | | When did you learn to revel in the battle of love? | | | You're the simple wife of that dried-up old man, living in a corner of the world, | | | yet you have all this expertise!" More and more excited, he praised her, |
| | as her braid danced like a whip cracked by the Love God, to keep her going, | | | and her pearls scattered like flowers raining down on the battlefield, | | | and she was crying out as if Desire were playing his haunting melodies, | | | and sweat flowed like the water that crowns the King and Queen of Love, | | | and half-closing her eyes in meditation on the supreme god, who is passion, | | | she made love from on top, like a man. |
| | Their senses became one. | | | The world disappeared. |
― 290 ― | | | There was neither "I" nor "you." | | | There was nothing but joy beyond words, | | | unbroken, unknown to the watching self, | | | perfect and infinite and full and flowing | | | into one another. |
| | She looked outside, quickly and now alone, | | | and gently called to him, to send him off | | | with care. "When will we meet?" he asked her. | | | "Is this the end? |
| | What is there to say? I can't bring myself | | | to say good-bye. If I try to go, my feet won't move. | | | But I can't stay. Your husband will soon return. | | | There's nothing left for us, no way for me to come again." |
| | "I trust you," she said. "I've given you my body. | | | Now you're leaving me to burn with longing. | | | Maybe you can go, somehow or other, but I can't tell you | | | to go—and even if I could, I couldn't live without you." |
| | She kept repeating this, at the same time | | | hugging him tightly and kissing him. | | | Finally, she sent him off. As he tried to steal away, | | | looking this way and that, Gautama suddenly appeared. |
| | He was red with rage like the burning sun. | | | "Indra," he said, cursing him, | | | "blinded by the pride that comes of too much muscle, | | | you took my form and took my wife. For this, | | | you'll wander without testicles." |
| | Then he entered his house and angrily called his wife. | | | Humbly, her courage gone, her heart beating fast, | | | she stood before him, with water for his feet. |
| | He looked at her in fury: "I won't touch water | | | from your hands. Deceitful woman that you are, | | | you wanted Indra and slept with him last night. | | | Your body will be turned to stone." |
| | She staggered and shivered, falling at her husband's feet. | | | "Tell me when the curse will end," she begged. |
| | "Visnu will be born as Rāma, son of Daśaratha, | | | to contain Rāvana and other demons. |
― 291 ― | | | He will kill Tātaka at Viśvāmitra's command. [14] Tātaka was a demoness destroyed by Rāma while wandering in the forest to safeguard Viśvāmitra's sacrifice. | | | He will save the sacrifice and marry Sīta. | | | When that great hero passes this way, | | | he will bring your curse to a close | | | with the dust of his feet." |
[Gautama went off to the Himâlayas, leaving Ahalyā behind in the form of a stone. In course of time, Rāma passed by the deserted ashram, together with Viśvāmitra. He asked the sage to explain why the site was desolate, and Viśvāmitra replied:] | | "Gautama lived here, a hermit famous for his discipline | | | throughout the worlds. This is a place | | | where troubles are removed. You can see it, come. | | | There is something interesting here for you." |
| | Rāma walked along, looking here and there. | | | Particles of dust from his delicate feet | | | touched the stone. |
| | Slowly softening, | | | then, after a little while, | | | becoming rounded, | | | growing fuller, melting a little more, | | | now lengthening and stretching, | | | that rock took on beauty, charm, | | | a delightful, disconcerting form | | | radiant with youth | | | until at last she stood there, | | | a jewel of a woman | | | and a miracle to the mind. |
| | Rāma looked at her feet and bowed to her, | | | the hermit's wife. Her blessings filled his heart. | | | He was smiling, too, through the down of his mustache. [15] Rāma at this point is still hardly more than a boy. |
| | And Gautama, noting that moment, | | | arrived quickly from the mountains | | | to rejoin his wife. |
| | Rāma took leave of the sage, | | | who praised him, and went on to Mithila city. |
― 292 ― | | | From that time on, Gautama and Ahalyā, | | | with love in their hearts and their troubles behind them, | | | gave themselves to joyful play, rich in invention. | | | Their passion unabated, they lived forever | | | in immeasurable pleasure. |
| | To all who read this story, or hear it, | | | or copy it cleanly, [16] This warning has not gone unheeded by modern editors of our text, who consistently replace delicate passages with ellipses. the generous Lord of śrīrangam [17] Ranganātha-Visnu, the author's personal deity, who appeared to him in a dream and commissioned this poem (as narrated in the opening canto). The final verse follows the standard format of phala-śruti, the promise of reward to those who read or hear the text. | | | gives great gifts. |
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