Abstract

In the context of the spotlight on translation in the post-colonial context, it is interesting to note that in the Indian tradition there are many instances of what can be termed ‘translations’ since very early times, yet there is hardly any theorizing in our tradition about them. The paper focusses on one instance of such an activity. Around 16^th century AD poet Jagannatha Dasa of Orissa wrote an Oriya Bhagabat which has virtually the exact chapter and canto arrangement as that of the Sanskrit Bhagabat. Yet there are variations here and there which are insightful. Similar is the case with the verses and the narratives which follow the Sanskrit Bhagabat systematically at many places and deviate at others. A close look at and comparison of the two texts leads to interesting observations. The paper uses a short extract each from the two works (Sanskrit Bhagabat with English translation, Oriya Bhagabat with my translation into English) to draw comparisons and to analyse some finer points of Indian translation in the pre-colonial days.

Introduction

 At first glance, Indian tradition has nothing to say about translation. For that matter, there is hardly any theorizing anywhere in the Sanskrit scholastic or literary tradition about the translation of texts. Was it because there was no translation of texts in this tradition?

 Since very early times translation has been a very significant activity in India. The Chinese came to India, took Buddhist texts back and translated them. Many Pali and Prakrit texts of the Buddhists were translated into Sanskrit. In the medieval period a number of popular Sanskrit works, especially Ramayana, Mahabharata and many Puranas were translated into regional languages.

 I subscribe to the view that translation has been an almost unconscious activity in the Indian tradition, something which has happened in this context effortlessly without fuss and hassles and, hence, has not received much critical attention. There are certain important components like the ‘original text’, ‘author’, ‘cultural transference’, etc., which were perhaps not problematized in the ancient Indian context, and hence, have drawn little critical attention. In the Western context as well, theorizing about translation is fairly recent, although the act of translation itself is at least as old as the Bible.

Today, a very important question comes to one’s mind, and that is: is there anything distinctive that we can say about translation in the Indian context? As I pointed out above, one has very little critical text to go by which directly deals with translation. However, one can learn from the examples, from oblique references to the problem and even the way that the different art forms in our culture have evolved. For instance, one can look at translations among the different Indian languages that had taken place prior to colonization. One can look at Mimamsa or the interpretative tradition for rules to be followed for interpretation; assuming that interpretation and translation have certain things in common. One can seek inspiration in the Jaina concept of anekantavada where reality can never be grasped in its totality (as any translation is always one of many possible translations of an ungraspable original). One can look at the way different art forms explored the same myths and legends – to what extent “translations” into different forms were parallel or used common principles. However, such an exploration would be a full-length study in itself. What can be and are attempted here are some illustrations and pointers, with the hope that somebody would find them worthwhile starting points for detailed exploration.

          I shall take up for close analysis a passage from Srimad Bhagavata Mahapurana and its translation into Oriya. I shall then attempt to show that Indian aesthetics does give certain insights into the process of translation.

                                                                      Section I

Medieval India saw the “translation” of many popular Sanskrit works into the regional languages – especially religious and didactic works to which the masses, who did not know Sanskrit, sought access. In Orissa Bhagavata Mahapuran was translated into Oriya sometime around the 15^th-16^th century A.D. by the eminent Santha poet Jagannatha Dasa. The translation is remarkably popular even today and in Orissa hardly anyone reads the Sanskrit text. Almost all public readings in villages are from the Oriya Bhagavata.

What I have attempted here is a comparison of a short passage from the 11^th canto of both the texts. However, before that, I would like to point out that in terms of metre, the two texts are very different. The Oriya text used a metre with nine syllables known as nabakshyari chhanda which is very popular in the Orissan tradition and is eminently readable over long stretches. This is also a metre which is easy to remember. The poet, thus, has chosen a metre which is not necessarily close to the original metre (the Sanskrit text was written mostly in anustuv metre), but one which, in its own cultural context, is the most appropriate. Since the Bhagavata is a long work and yet is supposed to be read in a matter of a few days, in Oriya, there is no other metre which is as lucid and easy to recite as the nabakshyari.

Culture provides certain insights into how a work is looked at. In the Oriya tradition, it is never felt that Jagannatha’s Bhagavata is a translation of Sanskrit Bhaghavata. I believe this is common to the Indian context. We talk of Valmiki’s Ramayana and we also talk of Tulsi’s Ramayana or Kamban’s Ramayana. It is never felt that one is the original and the other is a copy. It is as if the story of Rama exists somewhere in the Indian tradition and each poet has made it his own. Within the tradition, it is cultural property. Anybody can pick it and use it. Ownership of the story belongs to no individual but to a collective tradition. Often scholars use the expression “transcreation” to look at such works.

While Jagannatha’s Bhagavata fits this category, it is also remarkably close to the structure of the original. The numbers of cantos in both the texts are identical. The chapters are usually of the same number and each chapter deals with identical subject matter. Seen in this light, the Oriya text comes very close to what we call ‘translation’ today. This is one reason why it is a good example to take up here.

What I shall attempt now is a comparison of the two texts. For those who know both Sanskrit and Oriya, the original passages are available in the notes. However, for those who must read in English, given below are the translations. The translation from the Sanskrit is by C. L. Goswami (Goswami: 1995). The translation from Oriya is mine. In spite of the translations of translations, I hope that I will be able to make a few pertinent observations about the practice of translation in the Indian context.

The passage that I take up here is from the section that deals with the lessons that the Abadhuta learns from his twenty-four gurus. Among his gurus are the sky, the earth, the sea, animals and insects. The Abadhuta also learns from the experiences of the fallen woman – here the prostitute Pingala who lived once in the town of Videha.

Srimad Bhagavata Mahapurana (Sanskrit) ¹

Canto 11. Chapter 8. Verses 30-34

 

Alas! How senseless and of uncontrolled mind am I! Behold the extent of my foolishness; ignorant as I am

I have expected the fulfillment of my desire from a trifling mean paramour! (30)

Forsaking the eternal and real lord who resides in my heart and gives joy and wealth forever,

Fondly have I sought a poor man who cannot satisfy my desires and who only gives grief, fear, worry, sorrow and infatuation. (31)

Lo! How uselessly have I afflicted my soul by leading the life of a courtesan and living by such a highly reproachable profession;

I expected wealth and satisfaction from a lustful, greedy and lamentable person through the body sold to him. (32)

What female other than myself would have enjoyed a body, which is like a house of which the framework is bones,

Covered with skin, hair and nails, which is full of urine and excreta and has nine doors through which constantly flows foul matter? (33)

Among the citizens of Mithila (Videha) I am the only foolish and wicked person…

Bhagavata Mahapurana (Oriya)

Canto 11. Chapter 8. Verses 30-34²

 

Look at the net of my desire!

I lived my time in ignorance,

Ruined everything in my lust for wealth,

In my woman’s ways, in my carnal drive

Among unholy men

I indulged my desire intoxicated.

Curse this life of mine!

Close to me is my Deliverer,

The giver of all wealth and happiness,

The Father of all orphans

The Lord of the path to liberation.

Distancing that pearl, that eternal Lord

From my cursed mind

I took to the company of wicked men.

Ignorant were my colourful ways.

They were very wicked and

Misfortune was the reason for my downfall.

For I lived among the debauch

As a result of the sins of my past life;

Was tormented in vein

With the ways of wicked womanhood.

Thirsting for money

I misused this body –

A cage made of bones

Covered with nail, skin and hair.

With chains and knots of veins

Smearing the skin with flesh.

In this house of body I stay.

Endlessly flow the nine openings.

Within which move urine and stool

Complete with phlegm, bile and...

Malodorous worms, saliva and veins;

Diseases grow here endlessly.

Such is the house where I reside.

This is what my Guru taught me.

Not paying heed to his words

In this house I am the –

In the whole city of Videha

There is no fool like me.

(Verses 30 -34)

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