Sanskrit Kaavya of
Kashmir
Prof. P.N. Pushp
Sanskrit Kaavya or
poetical composition contributed by Kashmir is
quite considerable not only in quantity but
in quality also. It is so in spite of the fact
that much of the stuff presented in most of the
so-called mahaakaavyas is conventional, pedantic
and even banal; for, these defects and blemishes
are more than compensated by the departures
registered by writers from Kashmir, particularly
in narrative verse and realistic depiction.
It is indeed a grim irony that most of the
Sanskrit writers of Kashmir referred to by
Kshemendra, Kalhana and Mankha as their
predecessors or contemporaries are, today, mere
names for us. We, for instance, hear of a
Mahaakavi Chandra flourishing in the reign of
Tunjeena alias Ranaaditya (c. 319 A. D.) whose
play attracted large audiences from all classes of
people. Abhinavagupta also recognised him as a
fine playwright. Yet no work of his has come down
to us. Of the stray verses ascribed to him in
anthologies the best is the one that ends with the
immortal line
<verses>
['Darling, the time-gazelle, once gone, cannot
return.']
Another great poet whose works must have
positively enriched Sanskrit poetry is Mentha or
Bhartrmentha, a rare genius, as is borne out by
the stray verses of his, preserved for us by
theoreticians like Kshemendra and anthologists
like Vallabhadeva. His mahaakaavya,
Hayagreevavadha was held in high esteem even by
his royal patron, Maatrgupta, a poet in his own
right.
More than a dozen kings of Kashmir are said to
have made a mark in the domain of Sanskrit verse
also, Jayaapeeda and Harsha being the most
prominent of them. Against the background of this
royal participation in Kashmir's literary activity
it is not difficult to grasp the significance of
Bilhana's remark that in Kashmir poetry grew as
luxurianly as Kunkuma or saffron:
<verses>
The earliest work that reveals some purple patches
of literary value is the Neelamata Puraana (c. 600
A. D.); yet it can hardly be regarded as a kaavya.
The earliest Sanskrit kaavya in Kashmir has,
therefore, to be recognised in the
Arjuna-Raavaneeyam of Bhoomaka (c. 650 A D.),
which appears to be patterned on the Bhattikaavyam.
Though described (in the colophon) as a
mahaakaavya the work is primarily intended to
illustrate the rules of grammar as formulated in
the Ashtaadhyaayee of Paanini. Most of the twenty
seven sargas of the composition are styled
according to the Ashtaadhaayee paadas such as
gaankutaadipaada and bhoovaadipaada; while the
content is worked out on the theme of the skirmish
between Raavana and Kaartaveeryaarjuna, in about
1500 verses. Like the Kiraataarjuneeya of Bhaaravi
it starts with the auspicious word shree:
<verses>
Despite the limitations imposed by the basic
objective (of illustrating
Paaninian sootras) Bhoomaka has presented quite a
lot of readable stuff.
Yet, by and large, it appears that Sanskrit
writers in Kashmir concentrated more on the
critical aspect than on the creative, till the
ninth century. The only notable exception is that
of Udbhata who flourished in the reign of
Jayaapeeda (779 - 813 A. D.). He preferred to
illustrate his views on poetic ornamentation (as
formulated by him in his
Kaavyaalankaara-saara-samgraha) with his own
poetic composition, Kumaarasambhava, imitating, of
course, the Kalidasan classic. Surprisingly
enough, the theoretician poet fairly succeeds in
giving us a sizable number of poetic pieces which
cannot be dismissed as a poor copy of the
Katidasan masterpiece. The local colour introduced
by Udbhata is thematically appropriate and
artistically satisfying. Of particular interest in
this connection are the pieces describing the
advent of autumn or depicting Shiva's amorous
solicitude for the distraught Gauree, soon after
Kaama was consumed to ashes by the unrelenting
flame leaping out from Shiva's third eye. It is a
pity that only 95 verses of the work are preserved
in the Kaavyaalankaara-saara-samgraha, and the
remaining portion has not so far been recovered.
Another poet of eminence who adorned the court of
Jayaapeeda is Daamodaragupta whose Kuttineematam
effectively leavens pornography with realistic
touches of wit and satire, and appropriately
depicts the melieu in which the erotic adventures
are periscoped. The theme centres round the
prospective courtesan Maalatee, of Vaaraanasee who
approached the veteran Vikaraalaa for expert
advice. The seasoned procuress reveals to the
lovely aspirant various tricks of trade, relating
to her a number of illustrative tales. An
outstanding feature of the coverage is a sort of
running commentary on the stage performance of
Harsha's Ratnaavalee; and particularly charming is
the description of the Spring Festival of Cupid, a
riot of colourful abandon. The 1058 verses of this
unusual composition are of absorbing interest not
only for the authentic peep it offers into the
psychology of extramarital relations, but also for
the artistic handling of the theme. The
performance is all the more remarkable for freedom
from inhibition despite the poet's express
assurance at the end that a perusal of the poem
will positively save the reader from falling into
the snares of pimps, scoundrels and procuresses.
Daamodargupta's command over the language is
extraordinary without being pedantic, as is clear
from the following verse where pedantry has been
tastefully warded off:
<verses>
Wearing a garland she is a Sragdharaa; fair-faced,
she is a Suvadanaa; delightful, she is, who is a
Praharshinee; with a delicate waist she is, no
doubt, a Tanumadhyaa; whom does she not impress as
a Ruchiraa? Sweet of speech she is, indeed a
Subbaashinee.
To the VIII century may also be ascribed the
Sragdharaastotram of Sarvajnamitra who, in 37
verses (of the Sragdharaa metre) propitiates
Taaraa in the deenaakrandana style, making a clean
confession of his sins and weaknesses, and
striking an intimate note like
<verses>
[Don't you see I am being severally and
collectively driven along by my own weaknesses
such as deceit, envy, pride, and similar mean
forces, like a monastry camel, each and
everybody's property?] or,
<verses>
[Does a physician, with all his ample compassion,
withhold treatment from one even though on brink
of death?]
The Tibetan tradition recorded by the
Pagsam-jon-sang may be substantially correct that
Sarvajnamitra, 'though born in Kashmir was a
student of the monastry at Nalanda in Magadha
where he became a great master of sciences'; for,
the commentator on his work describes himself as 'Raajaguru
Pandita Bhikshu Shri Jinaraksita of the Shreemad
Vikramasheela Mahaavihaara'. No wonder that the
stotra has become part of the Tibetan Tangyur,
like a few other works by Kashmiri scholars,
particularly those by the Kashmirian Pandit
teacher Ravigupta. Among the Tibetan renderings of
these is one by the great Kashmirian Pandit
Shaakya Shree Bhadra, in 21 small chapters.
Such was the literary landscape in the VIII
century Kashmir before the court epic appeared as
a formal mahaaakaavya. The mahaakaavya in Kashmir,
in fact, flourished after its decline in most
other parts of the country; hence the dismal fact
that it suffered decadence in the prime of youth.
Nevertheless, the reign of Avantivarman (855-84
A.D.) gave a positive fillip to it. Of the poets
that belonged to his court, Ratnaakara had already
finalised his Haravijaya at the court of
Jayaapeeda, for the colophon describes him as 'Shree-Baala-Brhaspati-anujeevin'
(a protege of Jayaapeeda alias Baala-Brhaspati). A
few years before Avantivarman ascended the throne,
the mahaakaavya in Kashmir seems to have
registered a bold departure in the
Bhuvanaabhyudaya of Shankuka. The poem, according
to Kalhana, was a historical composition on the
fierce battle between Mamma and Utpala (c. 850 A.
D.) in which
<verses>
'the flow of the Vitasta was held up with the
corpses of the valient warriors failing on the
battlefield.' The loss of such an unusal work is,
therefore, really tragic.
The earliest mahaakaavya (in Kashmir) that has
survived, however, is the Havavijava (of
Raajaanaka Ratnaakara) which apparently is
modelled on Magha's masterpiece, the
Shishupaalavadha. The plot, obviously, is
Pauraanika: Shiva's victory over Andhakaasura whom
he destroys in deference to the wishes of the gods
oppressed by the demon. The treatment of so
slender a thread of narrative in as many as fifty
cantos (totalling up 432l verses), could hardly be
possible without disproportionate paddings and
digressions loosely held together under the
pedantic pretext of developing the mahaakaavya
elements. Even the main theme the poem has had to
wait till the VI canto and to get sidetracked by a
preoccupation with conventional 'war debates'
(cantos IX-XVI) and an obsession with erotic
trivialities (cantos XVII-XX, XXII-XXVIII). What
has a ring of authenticity in Bhaaravi's
Kirantaarjuneeya, and manages to evoke admiration
even in Maagha's Shishupaalavadha, becomes here, a
vain display of laboured wordmanship. Even the
large variety of metres employed by the 'mahaakavi'
cannot retrieve the poem; nor can occasional
flourishes of exquisite language (matching the
sound to the sense) justify the poet's boast:
<verses>
Nevertheless, the work contains 3 number of fine
specimens that speak highly of Ratnaakara's talent
(which, unfortunately fell a victim to
conventional application). Here are a few
outstanding cameos of nature depiction
<verses>
('The disc of the rising sun shining red like
fresh blood on the altar-like cliff of the
sun-rise top looked like the 'labour-bed' on which
the Glory of early dawn is delivering sharp.')
<verses>
('In the evening, when the solar disc was hanging
on the sunset peak and the fullmoon was emerging
on the sunrise-cliff, the Glory of the firmament
appeared holding two bronze cymbals, as if keeping
time with the twilight-dance of Shiva.')
It was this verse that earned the poet the title 'Taala
Ratnaakara', on the analogy of 'Deepashikhaa
Kaalidaasa', 'Aatapatra Bhaaravi' and Ghantaa
Maagha'
<verses>
(`While that nectaremitting moon was
embracing the Lady Night,
whose garment of darkness had slipped away,
her friends, the quarters smiling bright with
faces
shimmering in the rays as slender as the lotus
fibre bits silently stepped away.')
Ratnaakara's Vakrokti parrcaashikaa also
suffers from banal word mongering, though
brilliant repartees like the following are not
wanting either:
<verses>
Shivaswaamin, Ratnaakara's junior contemporary at
Avantivarman's court, appears to have been equally
prolific in turnout of verses in a large number of
metres; but his Kapphinaabhyudaya is content with
only 20 cantos in which he chooses to spin out a
mahaakaavya based on a simple Avadaana story.
According to this Buddhist legend the Master
intervenes in the bloody feud between the king
Prasenajit of Sraavasti and the king Kapphina of
Leelaavatee (in the Vindhyas). When, on hearing
the Buddha's sermon, Kapphina expresses his desire
to enter the Samgha, the Master advises him,
instead, to practise selfless discharge of duties
as a dedicated ruler.
Shivatvaamin seems to have drawn upon Maagha as
well as Ratnaakara; and the striking similarities
are not confined to the structural
framework of the poem but cover both the
form and the content, and often border upon
apparent plagiarism. Yet, like Ratnaakara, he too
has a number of good verses to his credit, and
unlike Ratnaakara, evinces command over simplicity
of expression also, as in:
<verses>
Among other pieces of high literary merit
Shivasvaamin gives us a very spirited description
of the enraged assembly in which the chieftains
are portrayed wringing their hands in fury at the
aggressive designs of the foe. The episode, no
doubt, reminds us of similar scenes in the
Kiraataarjuneeya and the Shishupaalavadha; but
Shivasvaamin is no cheap imitator. His profound
originality is quite refreshing at times. In the
episode just referred to, for instance, the
warcouncil protests against the policy of
procrastination and apathy, and pleads for
immediate drastic action:
<verses>
The fact that Shivaswaamin has taken pains to
excel both Maagha and Ratnaakara in literary
gymnastics called chitrabandha (alone with
pratilomaanuloma, sarvatobhadra and ekaakshara
etc.) is only an index to the literary fashion of
the age, despite the aweinspirihg advocacy
of dhvani (poetic suggestion) by Aanandavardhana
who also belonged to Avantivarman's court. Of the
four works of Aanandavardhana, refered to by him
in his Dhvanyaaloka, Arjunacharita and
Madhumathanavijava appear to have been in Sanskrit
while the other two, Vishhamabaanaleelaa and
Harivijaya were in Parkrit. Since none of these
has come down to us we are not in a positiion to
see how far the poet had himself practised what
later on preached in his Dhvanyaaloka. The
tesimony of his Deveeshataka, however, is rather
hostile; for, in this work, his extreme
preoccupation with the chitrabandha is shocking at
times. Did he develop his views on dhvani after he
had seen through the alankaara and the reeti
schools of Indian poetics?
The Dhvani theory, naturally, sounded quite
perplexing to the traditionalist poets and
poetasters, some of whom did fairly well in their
own old way. A near contemporary of
Aanandavardhana was the celebrated Jayantabhatta
whose Nyaayamanjaree, a landmark in Indian Nyaaya
literature, also is enlivened by poetic expression
here and there; but what is more important from
literary point of view is the Aagamadambara, in
which he dramatises in four acts the religeo-social
predicament of his times, the reign of
Shankaravarman (883-902 A. D.). Quite a number of
verses in the play are of high poetic merit in the
non-conventional context of satire and caricature
(which was earlier attempted by Daamodaragupta
and, later, carried forward by Kshemendra and, to
a considerable extent, by Kalhana also). This, for
instance, is how he presents the sarcastic remark
of a non-believer:
<verses>
God is, here, ridiculed as 'the son of a barren
woman, bathed in the mirage-waters, bearing
sky-flowers on the crest of his head, and carrying
a bow made of the horn of a hare'.
Jayantabhatta's son, Abhinanda versified the main
story of Baana's Kadambaree, and as is obvious
from the title of his work,
Kadambaree-kathaa-saara, he narrated the romance
without caring to go into detailed description of
romantic settings. His narration, nevertheless,
has advantage of ease and lucidity, a glaring
contrast to the florid, highflown and involved
diction of the recognised masters that has
preceded him. His approach, however, is more
pauraanic than poetic. The only other poet to
render the Kaadambaree in verse was Kshemendra
(whose Padyakaadambaree is no more extant).
The poetic element chose a new mode of expression
in the works of Kshemendra; but in the context of
a mahaakaavya it emerged in
Vikramaankadevacharitam of Bilhana. He had by that
time become the Vidvaapati at the Chaalukyan king,
Vikramaaditya VI Tribhuvanamalla (1076-1127 A.D.)
at Kalyaana in (Karnaataka), with all its
shortcomings as a historical document, this poem
of his registers a bold departure from the earlier
mahaakaavyas: it dovetails objective facts of
history into imaginative improvisations of court
culture. Such an experiment had, earlier, been
successfully carried out in prose by Baanabhatta,
but Bilhana was the first to try it in verse.
Probably it was his example that was followed up
by Jalhana (C. 1103 A. D.) in his (now lost)
Sompaalacharita (glorifying the exploits of
Somapaala, the dashful military governor of
Raajapuree, breaking away from Uccala). The model
was, perhaps, considerably improved upon by
Kalhana in his (now lost) Jayasi rhaabhyudaya
which appears to have, later on, been incorporated
into the Raajataranginee itself.
Bilhan has been generally lauded for his command
over the diction characterised as vaidarbheereeti,
which he himself describes as
<verses>
'a cloudless shower of ambrosia for ears, the
native-land of Sarasvatee's elegance.' This type
of felicity is, no doubt, there even in his
hyperbole
<verses>
Yet, his descriptions are often charming and true
to life as, for instance,
that of his own village Khonamoosha (present day
Khonmuh) or, the description of Aahavamalla's
death, a fine piece of simple pathos. This
emotional richness of Bilhana's verse reaches its
climax in his Chaurapanchaashikaa, a master-piece
of elegant lyricism to which we shall turn again
in proper context. An outstanding feature of the
Vikramaankadevacharitam, though not an intrinsic
element of the 'mahaakaavya', is the poet's
description of his native land as well as his trip
abroad through Mathura, Vrindaavana, Kaanyakubja,
Prayaaga, Vaaraanasee, Daahala (Bundelkhand),
Anhilvaada (Gujarat), Somanaatha, Raameshvaram and
Kalyaana. He seems to have left the Chaalukyan
court before his patron led an expedition to and
beyond the Narbada in 1088 A. D.
Like Bilhana, Mankha also has incidentally offered
us revealing glimpses into the Kashmir of his
times (c. 1140 A. D.), in the third and the last (XXV)
cantos of his Shreekanthacharitam which, again
turns to a shiva-legend for the frame-work of his
'mahaakavya'. He sems to have led a tirade against
sycophancy in court poetry, and exclaims with
pride that he has not flattered anybody except
Shreekantha. Equally significant is his reaction
against the growing
tendency of the age to overburden verse with
decorative artifices, and also his strong plea for
a sympathetic and unbiassed study of all genuine
poetry:
<verses>
Hence his emphasis on the utility of literary
meets and discussions:
<verses>
He had actually submitted his own composition to
the assemblv of the learned at the house of his
older brother (Alankaara), and delighted at the
superb recitation of 'his enthralling verse', the
discerning audience were 'moved to tears of joy':
<verses>
Most of the poets mentioned by Mankha in
connection with this assembly have been eminent in
their own way. Thus, Loshhthadeva, master of six
languages, is known to us by his
Deenaakrandanastotra which he composed while at
Varanasi; Jalhana sought to immortalise his
patron, the saandhivigrahika of Raajapuree
(present day Rajauri) in his Somapaalacharitam (no
more extant); Shambhoo Mahaakavi wrote
Anyoktimuktaalataa and Raajendrakarnapoora, a
75-verse panegyric of his patron, Harshhadeva
(1073-1101); and Kalyaana (whom Buhler has rightly
identified as Kalhana), is the celebrated author
of the Rajataranginee.
The only notable composition of the court-epic
type, attempted after the Rajataranginee is the
Prtthveeraajavijava of Jayaanaka, which celebrates
the elusive victory of the Chaahamaana king
Prithveeraaja over Shabab-ud-Din of Ghaur in 1193
A. D. In the thirteenth century, however,
Jayaratha ingeniously wove a number of Shaiva
myths and legends into a 'mahaakaavya' of as many
as
32 cantos, namely the Haracharitachintaamani. The
work betrays symptoms of a religious psychosis
manifesting itself in a narrow sectarian outlook,
threatening the deviationists with dire
metaphysical consequences.
This much about the conventional kaavya or
mahaakaavya in Kashmir. As to the lyric which
reached its full bloom in Bilhana's
Chaurapanchaashikaa, quite a large number of stray
verses of lyrical quality are quoted in various
works on poetics, and anthologies. Kshemendra, in
particular, cites a sizeable number in his
handbooks on poetics and metrics. Of these,
Bhallata has been highly praised for his Shataka,
by Abhinava, Kshemendra and Mammata. He was
preceded by Muktaakana and his brother Chakrapaala.
Loshtaka has already been mentioned in connection
with his Deenaakrandana. Abhinavagupta's
reflective hymns, despite their mystic content,
are characterised by a robust outlook on life; and
remind us of Shankaraachaarya's spiritual
rhapsodies. But, unlike Shankara, his emphasis is
on an integrated personality in which the material
and the spiritual blend in harmony; and therefore,
he sings,
<verses>
'Renounce naught, cling to nothing, enjoy ourself
unruffled, howsoever circumscribed you be.'
Abbinava's preceptor had already sought to
synthesise philosophical subtlety with devotional
fervour in his Shivastotraavalee. This very
spiritual lyricism had earlier appeared in the
Sragdharaastotram of Sarvajnamitra and later, in
the stavachintaamanee of Bhatta Naaraayana.
Centuries later it reappeared in the
Stutikusumaanjalee of Jagaddhara (c. 1350 A. D.)
and coursed through the minor works of Baka (XV
cent.), Aananda (XVI cent.), Avataara (XVII
cent.), Saahib Kaula (XVII cent.) and Gopaala
Raajaanaka (XVIII cent.) Shilhana's Shaantishataka
(c. 1200 A. D.) is apparently an imitation of
Bhartrharee's Vairaagyashataka. A few gems of
lyrical lustre are there in narrative works also
as, for instance, in the works of Kshemendra,
particularly his Manjarees and the
Dashaavataaracharita. But the brightest gem of
lyrical verse in Kashmir is, as pointed out
earlier, the Chaurapanchaashikaa of Bilhana, a
real masterpiece of elegant lyricism. Each of the
50 stanzas of this tender romance
of a young teacher with his sweet pupil, a
princess begins with ‘adyaapi, an enchanting
word of reminiscence, and depicts in simple melody
an amorous scene of the lovers' romantic
encounters, against which the pathos of a love-lorn
heart becomes all the more haunting. Here, for
instance, is an unforgettable glimpse, though a
little blurred in transmission:
'Even today, I see her
confused and bashful
love-lorn and bewitching;
her hair standing on end;
looking behind the scenes into the mirror
while I stood still beside her.'
But let the original text also speak
<verses>
Over and above the poets and the poetry talked of
so far it was in the works of Kshemendra, Somadeva
and Kelhana that Kashmir made the most significant
contribution to Sanskrit poetry. These poets of
the XI and XII centuries contributed positively
new trends and currents, while their predecessors
had mostly contributed stray works and verses on
traditional lines.
The most outstanding of these, no doubt, is
Kshemendra (990-1065 A. D.) who was almost as
versatile a genius as his preceptor, the
celebrated Abhinavaguptaachaarya. His works
numbering over thirty comprehend a large variety
of topics and aspects of life and literature. His
Kalaavilaasa, Deshopadesha, Darpadalana,
Samayamaatrkaa, and Varmamaalaa are unique in
respect of their social content and sustained
satire, while his Dashaavataaracharita, in spite
of its conventional theme, is a strikingly
original composition, in terms of its relevance to
the times. Even the Avadaanakalpalaa and the three
Manjarees (of the Raamaayana, the Mahabhaarata and
the Brhatkathaa) are in reality distinct kaavyas
in designs as well as execution, despite a number
of structural flaws and technical shortcomings.
These negative considerations should not be
allowed to obscure the positive value of the
literary transformation brought about by the poet
in these manjarees.
Many of Kshemendra's works like the Chitrabhaarata,
Kanaka-jaanakee, Shashivamsha, Laavanyavatee,
Muktaavalee, Padyakaadambaree, and
Vaatsyaayanasootrasaara, are lost to us; yet the
verses cited from these in his
Auchityavichaaracharchaa, Kavikanthaabharana and
Suvrttatilaka, are enough to convince us of their
significance for the literary history of Kashmir.
Even apart from this quantitative contribution of
Kshemendra, however, his name stands out as a
unique phenomenon in Indian literature because of
his satire, of which earlier poetry offered no
better than a few scattered instances, Kshemendra
was a sharp critic of matters, men and manners,
and at the same time possessed not only a keen
sense of humour, but also an uncanny knack of
presentations. His wit sharpens the edge of
sarcasm. His mastery over language and idiom
further equipped him for the unique role he was
destined to play in the domain of Sanskrit verse.
He was fully conscious of the social significance
of this role as is clear from an introductory
verse of his Deshopadesaa:
<verses>
'Put to severe ridicule one does not take to evil
ways;
hence my conscious endeavour to do him good.'
In spite of his occasional gusto for the niceties
of erotics, he has managed to escape the snares of
literary wantonness. He has no pretention to
artistic detachment, either, on which conventional
Sanskrit verse has waxed so eloquent, calling it
'akin to divine bliss' (brahmaananda-sahodara).
Nor does he suffer from aesthetic snobbery that
makes much ado about pretty nothing. He, in fact,
more than once seeks to remind us of his
utilitarian outlook on poetry, and his moral tone
rings clear in assertions like:
<verses>
'Kshemendra has composed these lovely verses
capable of defending righteousness.' (Narm. 8.4)
Satpaksha-rakshaa-kshamam is, certainly, an
unequivocal statement of the objective aimed at
Kshemendra, accordingly, undertook to caricature
the kaayastha only to ridicule social and
administrative corruption:
<verses>
Asked to depict the kaayastha 'of the past', for
the sake of 'fun' he incidentally unmasked the
socio-administrative bunglings of the age, the
reigns of Samgraamaraaja (1004-1029 A.D.), Ananta
(1029-64 A.D.) and Kalasha (1064-84 A.D.).
In the Kalaavilaasa too he strikes a similar note.
While describing the thousand and one viles of
rogues and scoundrels he wittily warns:
'These guiles should, no doubt, be understood,
but not practiced.'
Satire according to Kshemendra is, thus, an
effective social weapon which, rightly wielded,
proves a pleasing deterrent; and this, invariably,
is the express intention of his Deshopadesha,
Narmamaalaa, Darpadalana, Kalaavilaasa,
Samayamaatrkaa and Sevva-sevakopadesha which are
predominantly satirical. Even his
Dashoavataaracharita is enlivened by poignant
ironies of life that make the pauraanik myths
relevant to the age. Almost all these works are
replete with vivid caricatures of a wide
cross-section of the life around the poet. In
these literary cartoons he exposes sham and
pretention, fraud and hvpocricy, avarice and
vested interest. He has a dig at quacks and
busybodies, bullies and sychophants, wanton women
and henpecked husbands, pimps and procuresses,
opportunists and exploiters, priestly jugglers and
superstitious followers, hoaders and middlemen,
moneylenders and deposit-grabbers, backbiters and
blackmailers, mercenaries and commission-agents,
voluptuous nuns and lustful monks, and last but
not the least, the Unrelenting kaayastha.
Time and again, he takes these whimsical and
avaricious agents of allround exploitation to
task; and, who would not agree with him when he
depicts them as:
<verses>
'Deaf to the bewailings of the poor sufferers,
blind with the pride of power and pelf,
dumb for justice and black of heart-
the rulers are always busy exploiting people.'
He describes them as 'the submarine are that dries
up the ocean of national wealth.' It is, in fact,
they that have 'devoured the whole populace'; for
they are 'entrenched in a hundred viles'. The
bumper crop in its prime like the full moon was
devoured in a trice by the Raahu-like vieeful
divira (the clerk) and these very 'robbers in
disguise' had 'denuded the earth of her rich
treasures'.
One clearly hears the heart of Kshemendra beat in
his spontaneous outburst like:
<verses>
'Ah populace, where will you go
when the mean, petty and ambitious backbiter
mad after wealth
has occupied the seat of power!’
The whole personality of the kaayastha is
anatomised by him as:
'bhoorja-record-bannered messengers of death,
devilish experts in counting and discounting,
visiting the world and smashing the masses
with vehement punishments.' (Kalaa. 5.12)
The expression, 'bhoorja-dhvaja, (the
birch-bannered) is an appropriate characterization
of the filemongers equipped with the unrelenting
red tape. (And don't we find them alive and
kicking even today?). These kaayasthas were clever
experts at forgery, misappropriation and
embezzlement, and in the words of Kshmendra:
<verses>
`They turned the plus into a minus by just
depriving it of a single stroke'. The 'Almighty
Pen' of the kaayastha was highly dreaded by the
common folk `who looked upon the crooked syllables
scribbled by him' in his vicious records as
'coiled serpents infesting the tops of bboorja
trees'. The drop of ink dripping from the
kaayastha's pen reminds the poet of `the collyriumtinged
tears of Moths earth plundered by the tyrant'.
But the kaayastha is not the only devil to be
reckoned with He is, no doubt, the most prominent
of a gang of social maraud ere whose palms are
always poised for tips:
<verses>
'The populace has been annihilated by (the unholy
combine of) the minister, the military chief, the
gate officer and the priest, whose palms are
always outstretched for bribes.'
Against the background of this bungling by
kaayastha bureaucracy (or should we not call it
Kaayasthocracy?) it is not difficult to appreciate
Ksbemendra's depiction of the common man's sad
plight. The callousness of the stiffnecked
kaayastha presents a glaring contrasts to the
humiliated looks of a demoralised servant humbling
himself to dust before his lord. 'While bowing
before his master, the servant chances to see his
belly, the root cause of humiliation,
and in discomfiture looks at the earth as if to
seek refuge.' 'What an irony of fate! Obsessed by
the stubbornness of hope the servants bear their
folded bands upon their brows like a standard of
servility; remorse agitates their hearts, and yet
flattery dances on their lips.'
The following picture of a jobhunter
reminds us of his modern counterpart who goes
about knocking at unwelcome doors in search of
employment:
'Severely scolded by the sturdyarmed
gatekeeper that blocks the way,
gnashing his teeth out of rage at the callous
creak of the doors,
the servant is eager to get in even through the
tightly pressed legs of the man on duty
by bending his back;
and he enquires of the dumb outgoing
comrades if there is any chance of his getting
in'.
And there is caustic sarcasm in this running
commentary of his:
'His eye fixed at the door, his hands folded,
his tongue devoted to flattery,
his head bent low ---
Ah, the servant has dedicated every limb of his
to socialservice’
Verily the servant is as blind as the master:
‘one out of arrogance, the other out of avarice:
dehumanised by riches or poverty, who cares to
look at whom ?'
The cartoon of a hoarder (whose tribe is not
extinct yet) even today makes an interesting study
in unrelenting malevolence:
'The greedy hoarder has, indeed, forgotten the
all-
devouring time also;
why, otherwise, shouldn't he sell the paddy
stored some sixty years ago ?
He dances round in glee whenever the rains fail
or it rains too much.
The miserly fellow pines for a severe famine
occasioned by a rise in food prices.'
Kshemendra's verse is compact of such literary
cartoons of unfailing social appeal. He has not
forgotten even his own fellow-workers, but has
tellingly screened the peevish arrogance of an
upstartish scholar 'who gets headache the moment
he hears of others' rise.'
Thus, though mostly burlesque, Kshemendra's satire
quite often touches great heights of artistic
excellence. Nevertheless, on appropriate occasion,
it tends to become lampoon, and sometimes even
borders on vulgarity, narrowly escaping the
clutches of pornography. Absurd buffoonery,
however, is seldom permitted by him to mar the
dominant tone of decency. A few jarring notes here
and there, of course, sound intolerable; but these
lapses are temperamental rather than technical,
and deviations are generally deliberate. Parody,
caricature, ridicule, lampoon, irony of contrast,
antithesis and anecdotal fun, all are there in
him, very competently employed to suit the genius
of his satire; and herein lies his forte as a
literary debunker.
His Brhatkathaamanjaree, however, is doubtlessly
surpassed in craftsmanship by the
Kathaasaritasaagara of Somadeva, a junior
contemporary of his, who about 1070 A. D.
presented to the world one of the finest
collections of tales strictly in accordance with
the original (paishaachi) text of the Brhatkathaa.
In his preamble he talks of his primary concern
about 'facilitating comprehension of the tangled
web of the narrative' rather than about 'display
of literary sophistication' (perhaps a dig at
Kshemendra's Manjaree). Yet, he calls his work
"a compilation of the essence of the
Brhatkathaa':
<verses>
Somadeva has covered the wholel range in 24,000
verses, comprising 18 lambakas spreading into 154
tarangas, all severally and collectively
contributing to the ‘Ocean of the Streams of
Stories'. The vast expanse of the Ocean
comprehends tales of myth and mystery, wit and
wisdom, fad and folly, fun and frolic, love and
ambition and adventure, meanness and magnanimity,
cowardice and chivalry, greed and gratification,
envy and jealousy, tact and strategy, campaign and
intrigue, hate and infatuation, creed and dogma,
feud and fraternity, trust and betrayal, faith and
frivolity, solicitude and allergy, chastity and
easy virtue, rape and rescue, prudery and
recklessness, fetish and sagacity, divinity and
devilry, and much more. They tell not only of bird
and beast, but also of adventurous lovers,
intriguing wives, fastidious vampires, puzzling
ghouls, obliging giants, considerate profligates,
callous brothers, scheming step-mothers,
unsuspecting stepsons, guileful bawds, alluring
pimps, resisting ladies, stubborn beauties,
succumbing simpletons, self-sacrificing idealists,
exploiting self-seekers, and such other typical,
individuals, covering quite a wide cross-section
of human behaviour and social panorama. All this
is done in a highly pleasing manner weaving story
out of story, so that interest in what follows is
effortlessly sustained. The language used is lucid
and the style appropriate, taking full advantage
of the situation or the context, and yet steering
clear of conventional ornamentation. This very
simplicity of effective narration, perhaps, helped
the Kathaasaritsaagara in gradually superseding
the Braatkathaa as well as the Brhatkathaamanjaree,
so much so that, in course of time, it became the
foundational source-material for translation in
other languages. The first Persian rendering (in
Kashmir) was prepared at the instance of Sultan
Zain al-Abideen (mid XV cent.), under the title
Bahar al Asmaar (wrongly regarded by some scholars
as a rendering of the Raajataranginee). A few
lines from such a vast treasure of views and
perspectives can at best present just a limited
sample or two. Nevertheless, here they are:
<verses>
(Naravaahanadatta felt progressively agitated like
the ocean, as she (Madanamanchukas) digit by
digit, gradually developed into a full blown
beauty like full moon.)
<verses>
(Evil often rebounds on the person intending to
perpetrate it on others, like a ball repeatedly
tossed on to the wall.)
The work is replete with well-turned phrases and
expressions like the following that have acquired
a proverbial ring:
1. Krtaghnaanaam shivam kutah ? (I.3.44)
2. Yaa vasyaabhimataa moorkha suroopaa tasya saa
bhevet. (I.5.51)
3. Bhadrakrt bhadramaapnuyaad abhadram
chaapyabhadrakrt. (III.6.212)
4. Upapradaanam lipsoonaamekam
hyaakarshhasaadhanam. (V.1.119)
5. Aapadi sphurati prajnaa yasya dheerah sa eva
pi. (II.4.41)
Another remarkable feature of Somadeva's narrative
art in economy of strokes to conjure up setting
and atmosphere relevant to the theme.
The art of narration carried to such a high pitch
by Somadev, was, no doubt, there in his
contemporaries and predecessors also a good deal,
and was put to maximum advantage by his successors
too, but only as a secondary tool. Kalhana's
Raajataranginee, for instance, has a number of
stories embedded into the Historical narrative.
His literary contribution, nevertheless, is
qualitatively different: it lies in realistic
depiction of the grim socio-political life of the
land, not in chronological isolation or dynastic
seclusion of the ruling powers be has used as
practical framework for his 'kaavya', but in a
perpetual flux of cause and effect (despite the
occasional reference to mysterious intervention of
destiny, individual as well as collective),
Kalhana's has been a unique experiment. It is
unique in the sense that before him no classical
poet had cared or dared to take such a vast
historical canvas into his poetic sweep.
Kalidaas’s canvas was confined to the Raghu
dynasty - Bilhana preoccupied his poetic fancy
with the loves and conquests of his patron; while
Kalhana wove his ‘poem’ out of the total
continuum of his historical awareness. The weak
links here and there, particularly in the earlier
tarangas call for no apology; these are
understandable in terms of his limitations,
material as well as intellectual. These are there
despite his resolve to ensure authenticity of
statement, (to use his own term:
bhootaarthakathanam) by dint of personal
observation, documentary evidence, objective
inference and plausible conjecture.
Kalhana's keen historical sense and sharp critical
talent, matched by his flexible imagination and
fine sensibility, despite his failings and
shortcomings, cannot but be recognised as a
telling differential of his work. He is fully
conscious Of his responsibility as a historian;
but at the same time he bows to the innate
greatness of the poet’s creative faculty, and
emphatically asks: 'Who else but poets as
creators, adepts in charming creativity, have the
calibre to bring the past to our very eye?'
'Charming creativity' (:ramya-nirmaana, in the
poet's own words), certainly, has got to be wedded
to what he has called ‘bhootaartha-kathana,'
(authenticity of statement). It appears that
Kshemendra's Nrpaavalee (not extant) which Kalhana
consulted but did not very much admire as history,
must have been rich enough in candid and realistic
depiction, like his other works. What, however,
provoked Kalhana to censure it must have been its
tendency to fictionalize factual situations,
Kalhana in this respect, was an anti-thesis of
Kshemndra. Yet, his account of times he has dealt
with is not merely a matter-of-fact narrative, but
a portrayal with poetic insight particularly of
the period nearer his own. His chronicle is rich
in glimpses of the socio-political setup of the
times, and numerous are the realistic pictures of
the distress caused by famine, food and frost, as
well as by avaricious opportunists, unscrupulous
self-seekers, and wicked mischief-mongers that
ruined the lovely land of which he was so and
proud. His devastating denunciation of all these
antisocial elements is inspired by dignified
indignation quite in keeping with the spirit of
'impartiality' he had adopted as his poetic credo;
for to him it meant neither connivance nor
indifference, but a fair assertion based on
objective analysis of situations. To make such
stuff the subject-matter of poetry, therefore, is
no mean achievement.
The whole work, in fact, has been conceived by him
as an organic whole, all the eight tarangas
flowing severally collectively one into the other
as well as all together. Various rasas are found
here emerging in various situations and then
merging into the shaanta, the dominant rasa. It,
goes to Kalhana's credit that, unlike mahaakavis
who create scope for a particular rasa in a poem.
Kalhana simply ‘uncovers' a particular rasa in a
situation and appropriately manifests it in
creative treatment, without getting bogged down in
conventional technicalities. Here, for instance,
is the portrayal or a famine caused by an untimely
snowfall, a piece complete in itself, and yet
forming an integral Part of the contextual whole:
<verses>
'Unexpectedly in the month of Bhaadon all of a
sudden
there was a heavy snowfall
on the fields covered with autumn crop (of paddy)
ripening fast.
It appeared as if Kaala (: Time, the Destroyer),
was out to annihilate the universe;
Into it sank the crop, along with peoples'
hope of survival.
Then came the disaster of a dire famine,
like the rampart of Niraya (the child of fear and
death),
the hell,
thronged by dismal hordes of ghost-like famished
men.
The tormented (victims, distressed by hunger,
anxious to fill
their (empty) bellies, all,
forgot love for wife, affection for son and regard
for father...........’
Unlike most other contemporaries of his, Kalhana
does not revel in offering mere types of
character. He delineates individuality even in
those that belong to typical groups. In this
respect he appears to be at his best while
presenting complex personalities like Ananta,
Kalasha, Harsha, Uchchala, Sussala and Jayasimha
and even Didda who was not so near him in point of
time. The lame-footed queen surprised her subjects
when she successfully broke through all the
barriers set up by her swarming enemies, and
Kalhana describes her achievement very crisply
thus:
<verses>
'The lame-footed (queen) whom none would suspect
of
the strength to go across a puddle,
displayed the mettle of Hanumaana in crossing the
ocean
of hostile swarms.’
The Raajataranginee abounds in masterly
descriptions of matters, men and manners. Even
campaigns and expenditions, invasions and
confrontations, are graphically described with
rich details of topography and terrain, without
jeopardising literary excellence. The campaign of
Dugdhaghaata may be cited here as one of the many
events which are so graphically described that
while reading the lines we feel as if we are being
treated to a running commentary.
The tradition so gracefully set up by Kalhana in
1148-50 A. D. was followed by Jonaraaja in his
sequel to Raajataranginee, about three centuries
later with admirable efficiency. He seems to have
secured better intensity in his work perhaps
because of the narrower range of his chronicle,
which covers, more or less, the earlier period of
the enlightened Sultan Zain al Aabideen's life
(1417-59 A. D.) against the gruesome background of
his predecessor's bigotry and the depredations by
marauders like Zulqadr Khan and desperadoes like
Renchan. This is how Jonaraaja depicts the
citizens' panic at the unholy combine of these
marauders;
<verses>
'They were rich in foodstuffs and had resorted to
shady nooks
like snakes having abundance of fruit and rest in
shade.
But they dreaded Dulcha (;Zulqadr Khan) below, and
Renchan
on the hill above,
like the snakes afraid of the rapid current of
water below
and the storm on the hill above.'
And when Dulcha left, the surviving citizens come
out of their hide-out like frightened rats; but
the threat of Renchan was still there, as if the
'sunset peak with its lofty cliff was obstructing
movement of the moon after it had just escaped the
'Raahu's grip.' Talking of the tyranny on the eve
of Zain al Aabideen's accession, Jonaraaja
observes:
<verses>
'Wicked people belonging to his faith worked havoc
with the spiritual tradition of Kashmir,
as the storms do with trees, or locusts with
paddy-crops.'
Zain al Aabideen's genuine solicitude for his
subjects irrespective of colour, caste or creed,
warms up his heart
<verses>
'His policy, excelling in quality, dulled the
peoples yearning
for kings of yore,
like sugar of a superior quality that alleviates
longing
for the sugarcane juice.’
He went on restoring the old administrative
conventions
that had disappeared,
just as Spring rejuvenates the creepers blasted by
winter.
In him dwelt, indeed, in new accord,
qualities both sublime and awesome.
Where else but in the ocean do we find together
nectar, and poison, fire and water?
That king broke up the arrogant, and uplifted the
low,
as if he were levelling down the
ups and levelling up the downs,
preparing thereby the soil, the earth, for sowing
seeds of his reputation.'
Unfortunately Jonaraaja died in 1459 A. D. leaving
his chronicle unfinished, but his brilliant pupil,
Shreevara who was a very intimate associate of the
King, wrote the third Raajataranginee which is far
superior to his preceptor's work, and at times
closely approaches the sublimity or Kalhana's
composition. He also seems to be very much
concerned about the people’s welfare. Here, for
instance, is the description of a famine caused by
an untimely snowfall:
<verses>
‘It appeared as if the earth was trying to cover
her face
with a white sheet of snow;
How could she afford to look (helplessly) at the
people
afflicted with the scourge of a famine ?
Day and night, throughout, long unending
processions
of people begging for food
entered houses hoarding food-grains
as if arrows were (incessantly) going in.'
And, here is an account of flood occasioned by
successive rains:
<verses>
'The bubbles (of rain-water) rise like wicked
serpent-hoods
bent upon doing rain-mischief,
eager to take away the bumper crop.
The sound of showers falling through the
tree-foliage
created the impression
that the trees, out of solicitude for the people
were shedding tears and crying aloud.
The turbulent waters in turmoil had really run
amuck:
they knocked down the high, they lifted up the
low.'
Shreevara's chronicle (1459-77 A. D.) is a rich
storehouse of such apt and effective description
of pleasure trips, social festivals, bitter
quarrels and fateful mishaps. The poet's intimacy
with his patron had stood him in good stead, no
doubt; but it was his keen observation and good
taste that conditioned his artistic choice. The
masterpiece of a letter from the distressed king
to one of his sons, deserves being quoted in full
for its urgent pointedness in terms of poetic
appeal.
<verses>
‘Son, I am in grave crisis, so hard to tide over
that none else but you can save my life.
The moment you see my letter, sit up if lying
down,
stand you up if sitting, ran if already up.
Yes, what else? Painful to hear. Nonetheless,
the sooner you come the better would you achieve
your end.
If you do not come quick enough
while I am precariously alive,
What use if you do come to me when I have left the
world?'
Describing the festival of music and dance at
Vejibror (then known as Vijayeshvara-kshetra) he
remarks:
'While being treated to the performance of music
and dance
the ears and the eyes argued to each other:
I have enjoyed it more than you.'
A revealing glimpse of the Dal Lake offered by
Shreevara, incidentally, gives us a peep into his
unostentatious diction and approach too
<verses>
'Reflected within its waters, trees appear as
weeds,
mountains as tortoises,
and towns like (underworld) habitation of Naagas.
People enjoy the sight of paddy-clusters
on the floating fields
bending low as if to just inhale the fragrance
of the lotuses (growing in the crystal waters of
the Dal).
Shreevara had the additional advantage of being a
scholar of Persian and (perhaps) Arabic too, as is
clear from the colophon of his Kathaakautuka
(written in 1505 A. D.):
<verses>
This work of his, in fact, is a Sanskrit rendering
of Mulla Jaami's Persian masterpiece,
Yoosaf-Zulaikhaa; yet he has very creditably
adapted the Persian conceit to the needs of the
Sanskrit atishayokil (hyperbole) and domiciled the
alien idiom, as far as possible. Here is a typical
piece from the work, describing the heroine's
unique bcauty:
<verses>
'Wonderful, indeed, in her two opposites are seen
the day in her complexion, the night in her
tresses.
The star-necklace decorates her conch-like
(lovely) neck,
as if the stars have come to serve the moon, the
face.'
The Persian mystical tradition of discerning the
real in the phenomenal, too has been rendered in
the true Indian fashion as seeing, 'vairaagya' in
'anuraaga' or 'yoga' in 'bhoga'.
<verses>
And that indeed is the moral of this romantic
poem. But no poet after him seems to have gone
beyond him attempting such an artistic synthesis
of the Persian and Sanskrit romances. The
Delaa-rama-kathaasaara of Bhattaahlaadaka (c. 1500
A. D.) nevertheless, draws upon a source and
tradition other than Indian. He takes the story of
Delaaraana, a courtesan, from the 'Muslim' lore
and retells it briefly in Sanskrit with the
express aim of 'delighting the minds' of those
that could not read it in the original:
<verses>
Despite his artificial diction imitating the
decadent models Aahthdaka stands out as a good
entertainer. He avoids monotony by varying the
metre according to the contexual need and also by
naturalizing the details without making them banal
as, for instance, in cantos 11 and 12. In the
former he describes the garden of Delaaraama,
while in the latter he describes the head-to-top
loveliness of the courtesan. His sense of
proportion speaks throughout the 404 verses of the
story told in 13 cantos, the length varying
between 22 and 56 according to the demand of
subject-matter; while catholicity of outlook is
apparent from the very opening verse serving the
purpose Of a Mangdlaacarana
<verses>
'May the greatness of that benevolent Divinity of
yours
always protect you,
Who is best worshipped with the excellent flowers
of homage
rather than with incense and the lamp.'
No more poems like this, exploiting non-Sanskritic
sources have come down to us though the catholic
spirit of worship, in the true tradition of
Kashmir Shaivism has, all along, inspired many a
hymn, including the highly philosophical ones by
Saahib Kaula (c. 1700 A.D.).
The tradition of writing poetical chronicles,
however, lingered on, till the conquest of Kashmir
by Akbar (c. 1586A.D ), and Praajyabhatta in
collaboration with his pupil, Shuka, wrote the
fourth Raajataranginee. Though they could not make
much advance in poetic expression, yet from the
thematic point of view their chronicle is not
utterly devoid of lovely pieces of narration and
portrayal, which are quite in line with Kashmir's
contribution to Sanskrit poetry.
After Shuka's Rajataranginee, the only works worth
mentioning are the Durbhiksha-taarodayaasta of
Ishvara Kaula on the severe famine of 1878 A. D.,
and the Jitamalacharitam of Shukadeva Shastri, on
the martyrdom of Baba Jito. Among other literary
curiosities, however, reference may be made to
memoranda in Sanskrit verse like that submitted by
Kashmiri Pandits to Ranjit Deva of Jammu, the
Sanskrit rendering of stray persian verse as
attempted, for instance, by Raajaanaka Gopaala, or
Raajataranginee sequels attempted by late
Professor Govind Razdan.
This, then, in brief is an account of the Sanskrit
Kaavya of Kashmir.
BIBLIOGRAPHIC NOTES
1. KCSP:
Kashmir's Contribution to Sanskrit Poetry (by P.
N. Pushp) published in The Poona Orientalist,
Vol. XV, No. I-IV, 1951 (which has been quoted
by Dr. K. S. Nagarajan in his thesis,
Contribution of Kashmir to Sanskrit Literature,
1970, without using any quotation marks or
caring to acknowledge in the footnotes).
2. RT (: Raajataranginee), II.16.
3. Abhinavabhaaratee, XIX.
4. Subhaashitaavalee (Ed. Peterson), 1629.
5. Shreekanthacharita, (of Mankha), II.53
6. RT, III.260-62.
7. KCSP, P-93, fn. II-18.
8. VC (Vikramaankadevacharita), XVIII.16.
9. BORI (Poona) Collection Ms 184/1875-76.
10. KSS (Kaavyaalankaara-saara-samgraha), BSPS
NO.LXXIX, pp.5-13.
11. KSS, Pp.26.54.
12. RT, IV.40-46.
13. KM (Kuttaneematam Kaavyam), B.I., Cal., Vv.
792-940.
14. KM, Vv. 885-897.
15. SS (Sragdharaa-stotram), ASB, Cal. , Introd.
XXIX.
16. SS, P. 50.
17. SS, Introd., V, Para 8.
18. RT, V. 32-34.
19. RT, IV. 102-104.
20. HV (Haravijaya), Prashasti. 7.
21. KB (Kapphinaabhyuditya), XVIII.
22. VC, XVIII. 70-78.
23. VC, IV. 83-85.
24. VC, XVIII
25. Quoted from Bilhanacharits, Verse 94.
26. KCSP, Pp. 101-105; and Sik (Satire in
Kashmir I) published in Kashmir Research
Biannual No. 2 (Old Series), Pp. 13-28h.
27. NM (Narmamaalaa), I.146.
28. KV (Kalaavilaasa), V.11.
29. KV, V. 7.
30. SeSe (Sevyasevakopadesha), 11-12.
31. SeSe, 53.
32. SeSe, 22.
33. SeSe, 3.
34. DD (Darpadalana), II. 33-34.
35. Satire in Kashmir I, Pp. 28a-28f.
36. Eadaoni, P.402, as quoted in Blochmann's
Badaoini & His Works Pp. 141-142.
37. See, for instance, Upakoshaa (I.4) or
Siddhakaree (II.5).
38. RT, III (for Durlabbavardhana's story), or
VIII (for Vanik).
39. RT, I.4 and I.46.
40. RT, I.13.
41. RT, VII. 1171-12000.
42. Serialised in the Shree Patrikaa (of
Shreenagara).
Additional Reference
Material :
1. Cultural Heritage of Kashmir (by S. C.
Banerji), Cal., 1965.
2. Contribution of Kashmir To Sanskrit (by Dr.
K. S. Nagarajan), Bangalore, 1970.
3. Glimpses of Kashmiri Culture, Series I &
II (by Prof K. N. Dhar), PRI, SGR.
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