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Ascensio ad Deum: Garuḍa and Onto-Theologic Praxis in the Mahābhārata Paper presented at the 2012 Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Religions

Chicago, November 17, 2012

Vishwa Adluri Hunter College, NY vadluri@cuny.hunter.edu

A. Introduction:

A version of the Ṛgvedic myth (RV 4.26-27) of the theft of soma is found in the Mahābhārata at 1.23-30. In the epic version, the falcon or eagle is referred to as “garutmān” or “garuḍa”1 rather than “śyená/ suparṇá” as in the RV, and the epic also expands greatly on the bird’s motivation for stealing the elixir of the gods.2 This episode has been studied for clues to the myth of the Indo-European firebird3 and the significance of Vedic soma,4 but here I propose an alternative perspective: I look at the epic’s reworking of the myth as a theological trope, carefully articulated to function within the architecture of the epic’s literary and philosophical project. This project, I will argue, concerns a saving ontology.5 I will demonstrate that Garuḍa functions as a

1 But see 1.20.15, 21.5, 23.1, 23.6, 29.8, 29.21, 30.14, 30.21, and 32.25 for references to “suparṇa.” In general, the epic seems to distinguish between “suparṇa” or “pakṣi” as generic terms for “bird” and 2 The epic refers to the elixir as soma (1.25.7; 1.26.36, 37, 38; 1.28.3; 1.29.3, 9; 1.30.7, 8, 13, 18, 19) and, less often, as amṛta (1.24.1; 1.29.2; 1.29.14, 17; 1.30.15, 17). 3 Typical of this early approach are Adalbert Kuhn, Die Herabkunft des Feuers und des Gottertranks: ein Beitrag zur vergleichenden Mythologie der Indogermanen (Berlin: F. Dümler, 1859); Jarl Charpentier, Die Suparṇasage (Uppsala: A.-B. Akademiska Bokhandeln, 1920); Rudolf Wittkower, “Eagle and Serpent. A Study in the Migration of Symbols,” Journal of the Warburg Institute 2.4 (1939): 293-325; and Wilhelm Printz, “Garuḍa und der egyptische Greif,” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft 86 (1933): 111-112. More recently, David Knipe has reexamined some of these parallels in his “The Heroic Theft: Myths from Ṛgveda IV and the Ancient Near East,” History of Religions 6 (1966-67): 328-360 but Knipe frames his analysis in terms of wider cosmological concerns. 4 Bloomfield (Maurice Bloomfield, “Contributions to the Interpretation of the Veda” (I. The legend of Soma and the Eagle),” Journal of the American Oriental Society 16 [1894-96]: 1-24), Oldenberg (Hermann Oldenberg, “Das altindische Ākhyâna, mit besonderer Rücksicht auf das Suparṇâkhyâna,” Zeitschrift der Deutschen Morgenländischen Gesellschaft [1883]: 54-86), Schneider (Ulrich Schneider, Der Somaraub des Manu. Mythus and Ritual [Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1971]), and Feller (Danielle Feller, “The Theft of the Soma,” in Composing a Tradition: Concepts, Techniques and Relationships, ed. Mary Brockington and Peter Schreiner [Zagreb: Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts, 1999], 199-225) are mainly concerned with the comparisons between epic and Vedic versions, and with the Suparṇākhyāna of the Rāmāyaṇa. Simson, continuing his approach to the epic as a work of nature symbolism, proposes an idiosyncratic reading of the narrative, according to which the tortoise and elephant of the myth symbolize the sun and the moon, with their conflict standing in for the waxing and waning cycles of the moon; see his “Remarks on the Suparṇa/Garuḍa Myth (Later Vedic Period),” Indologica Taurinensia 15–16 (1989–1990): 353–360. 5 Scholars have hitherto seldom considered the epic a work of theology. With the exception of a handful of scholars such as Biardeau and her students, the predominant method of inquiry has not been to carefully follow appropriate hermeneutics, such as Nīlakaṇṭha. Instead, academic scholars have valorized the text-historical method, which functions precisely by ignoring philosophical and theological meanings. Thus expulsion of the theological philosophical was raised to a methodological principle. And yet, when we look at the Mahābhārata with unprejudiced eyes, the epic is the most obvious place to look for the development of Hindu theology. Although the Vedas precede and outweigh the epic in scriptural and epistemic significance and the Purāṇas and Āgamas may be much more relevant for sectarian

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metaphor for the soul and that the epic uses the metaphor of the flight of the avian soul to articulate its ideas of salvation. The Garuḍa narrative, first of the ascent narratives of the epic, is thus crucial to understanding the epic’s status both as a work that address the goal of mokṣa,6 final liberation, and as the earliest philosophical exposition of bhakti, the “principal—and undoubtedly the most ancient—of all monuments to bhakti,” as Biardeau calls it.7 B. Garuḍa in the Mahābhārata:

The Garuḍa narrative occurs within the Ādiparvan, the first major book of the Mahābhārata. The first five books of the Ādiparvan contain hermeneutic and pedagogic materials that teach the reader how to read the epic.8 The Garuḍa narrative occurs as part of these materials in the epic’s fifth minor book, the Āstīkaparvan. Following the narratives of the first four minor books, which successively set up the basic problem to the epic as the relation of time to eternity,9 introduce the sacrificial nature of “becoming,” and make a distinction between temporal resurrection and true ontological salvation,10 the Garuḍa narrative clarifies essential aspects of the nature and meaning of salvation in the epic.

The story, recounted at Mahābhārata 1.23-30, describes the flight of the fiery bird (agnisamaprabhaḥ, 1.28.3a) to obtain the elixir of the gods. Garuḍa’s ascent to heaven—and, beyond it, to the Supreme Being—begins with a simple problem: the fact of bondage. His mother Vinatā, whose name links her to the sky, once lost a wager to her sister Kadrū, the earth, and was forced to become her slave.11 Long ago, sage Kaśyapa had offered the two sisters boons. Kadrū asked for a thousand sons, while Vinatā asked for two sons who would exceed Kadrū’s sons in beauty, brilliance, and might. Kadrū’s thousand eggs hatch after five hundred years, giving birth to the snakes. At this,

worship, the epic occupies a key role in the development of classical Hinduism. The Sanskrit epics and Purāṇas, as Biardeau first perceived, undertake “a re-reading of the Revelation which [gives] birth to a mythic and ritual universe of very great complexity.” Madeleine Biardeau, Hinduism: the Anthropology of a Civilisation, trans. Richard Nice (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1989), 90. In this re-reading, the Mahābhārata takes on a key role. Thus an engagement with the Indian epic becomes unavoidable in the attempt to understand the basic elements of Hindu theology. 6 The epic twice lists mokṣa among the puruṣārthas about which the Mahābhārata is a śāstra, see 1.56.21c and 33a. 7 Biardeau, Hinduism, 170, n. 1. 8 See my “Frame Narratives and Forked Beginnings: Or, How to Read the Adiparvan,” Journal of Vaishnava Studies 19.2 (2011): 143-210. 9 For the contrast between time and eternity as the epic’s basic theme, see Mahābhārata 1.1.187-190 and 1.1.191, 193-195. 10 For a discussion of the last two of these themes, see Vishwa Adluri and Joydeep Bagchee, “From Poetic Immortality to Salvation: Ruru and Orpheus in Indic and Greek Myth,” History of Religions 51.3 (2012): 239-261. 11 According to Winternitz, Kadrū, the “tawny one,” is a reference to the earth, while Vinatā, the “curved one,” refers to “the arc of heaven [Himmelsgewölbe] as the mother of birds and of the sun-bird Garuḍa in particular.” Moritz Winternitz, “Das Schlangenopfer des Mahābhārata,” in Kleine Schriften, part 1, ed. Horst Brinkhaus (Stuttgart: Franz Steiner Verlag, 1991), 72, n. 1. TS 6.1.6 confirms this interpretation, because Kadrū is there referred to as “this [earth],” Suparṇī as “yonder [heaven].” Suparṇi, “beautiful leaf” or “having beautiful feathers,” (Monier-Williams, s.v. “suparṇī”) is the name of the mother of the meters who sends them to heaven to fetch the soma in TS 6.1.6, MS 3.7.3, and KS 23.10. She is an early precursor of Vinatā.

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Vinatā, her judgment clouded by greed (lobhaparītayā, 1.14.17a),12 broke open one of her eggs. A half-formed being called Aruṇa emerged from the egg and cursed his mother to become the slave of the woman she sought to rival.13 He promises that her second son shall deliver her from, but she must allow her second egg to ripen and hatch in due course of time (1.14).

Kadrū indeed succeeds in enslaving her sister by means of a ruse: the two sisters wager on the color of the tail of the horse Uccaiḥśravas but Kadrū forces her sons to weave themselves into the tail so that it appears black (1.18-1.20). Five hundred years later, the second egg hatches and a great bird whose radiance surpasses Agni’s emerges (1.20). Garuḍa flies to his mother and joins her in servitude, carrying Kadrū and her sons from pleasure island to pleasure island.14 The snakes, denizens of “becoming,” are captives not only to pleasure, but also cursed to perish in a great sacrifice at the end of the eon. Garuḍa, however, longs for release from this life of bondage. He flies upward towards the sun in an attempt to burn the snakes, but their mother Kadrū invokes Indra with verses and he sends cooling rain showers for their salvation. When the snakes ask Garuḍa to carry them to yet another island, he approaches his mother in grief and asks why he must obey them. She explains that the snakes tricked her, and he asks them what he can do to obtain freedom. The snakes ask for amṛta (1.23.12a) in return for his mother’s and his freedom. Thus begins his ascent.

Before he flies off to the stronghold of the gods, Garuḍa approaches his mother for food and she advises him to eat the Niṣādas, eaters of fish, who dwell by a bay. The great bird sweeps down on the hapless fisher-folk and devours them by the thousands (1.24). But when a Brahmin and his wife enter his throat by accident, he permits them to leave. Still hungry, he flies on and espies his father Kaśyapa, who tells him to eat a giant elephant and a giant tortoise engaged in a fratricidal conflict in a lake.15 The eagle seizes the creatures and alights on the branch of a giant banyan, but the branch shears off under his weight (1.25). Seeing the diminutive sages the Vālakhilyas hanging upside down from the branch, he carries it back to his father. At Kaśyapa’s request the sages abandon the branch, and Garuḍa lets go off it in an uninhabited mountainous region.

12 “Lobha” has the meanings of “perplexity, confusion, impatience, eager desire for or longing after” and of “covetousness, cupidity, avarice” (Monier-Williams, s.v. “lobha”). Van Buitenen translates as “[falling] prey to your greed.” Although plausible in context, this translation covers over the more fundamental point that Vinatā falls victim to delusion. 13 śarīreṇāsamagro ’dya tasmād dāsī bhaviṣyasi / pañca varṣaśatāny asyā yayā vispardhase saha, 1.14.17c-18a. 14 The island is called the lovely Ramaṇīyaka island (suramyaṁ ramaṇīyakam), dwelling place of the snakes (nāgānām ālayaṁ, 1.21.4a). But no sooner do they arrive there, then the snakes ask Garuḍa to take them to yet another lovely island (aparaṁ dvīpaṁ suramyaṁ, 1.23.7a). The theme of a maximization of pleasure plays a major role in the narrative, with the snakes desire for soma and the immortality it confers standing in stark contrast to the eagle’s detachment. 15 The conflict between the Kauravas and their Pāṇḍava cousins should be read not only in light of the rivalry between the snakes and their cousin, Garuḍa, but also in light of that between these two large animals. Supratīka and Vibhāvasu (the elephant and the tortoise) are brothers who quarrel over their inheritance. Thus even before the opening of the Kuru narrative, the Ādiparvan heralds a constellation of themes such as conflict, greed, envy and the destructive potential inherent to “becoming.” Like the hundred Kauravas, the snakes are more numerous than the birds: plurality or multiplicity is here contrasted to singularity, and the rare nature of the one who seeks refuge in “being” (cp. Bhagavadgītā 7.3: manuṣyāṇāṁ sahasreṣu kaś cid yatati siddhaye / yatatām api siddhānāṁ kaś cin māṁ vetti tattvataḥ) to the masses who seek satisfaction in sensory gratification.

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After eating the elephant and tortoise, he flies off to the gods from a mountain top (1.26).

Viśvakarman the foremost protector of the soma attacks him, but the great eagle fights back and succeeds in defeating him. He then whips up a great dust storm with his wings. Vāyu, the wind god, blows strongly and dispels the storm cloud. The gods attack Garuḍa, but he routs them all. Raging like Rudra at the end of Time (yugāntakāle saṁkruddhaḥ pinākīva mahābalaḥ, 1.28.20), he lays low the armies of the gods. He encounters vast fields of fire everywhere, but puts out the fires with water from the rivers (1.28). Finally, he makes his body microscopic (saṁkṣipyāṅgaṁ, 1.29.4c) and, spinning in time to the dread cutting wheel guarding the soma, passes through its spokes. Defeating the two serpent guardians of the nectar, he seizes the pot of amṛta. The great bird then shatters16 the wheel and, enveloping the amṛta “without drinking it” (apītvaivāmṛtaṁ, 1.29.11), turns home.

The Supreme Being Viṣṇu encounters the eagle as he returns. Pleased with the even nature of his actions (tuṣṭas tenālaulyena karmaṇā, 1.29.12),17 he offers him a boon. The bird asks for two gifts: that he always be above the god and that he be immortal even without the aid of nectar (ajaraś cāmaraś ca syām amṛtena vināpy aham, 1.29.14). When Viṣṇu grants him his wish, he offers the god a boon in return. Viṣṇu chooses him for his mount (vāhanaṁ, 1.29.16). Garuḍa continues his flight, but is attacked by Indra with his thunderbolt. At this he laughingly lets go a feather out of respect for sage Dadhīci. Awed by his power, Indra asks for eternal friendship, which the bird grants him. In return Garuḍa asks that the snakes be his natural food. They then make a compact, whereby Garuḍa will set down the soma on the ground before the Snakes, but Indra will recover it before they can taste it, thus preserving the supremacy of the gods.

C. Interpretive Principles:

In my interpretation, I will rely on three main methodological tenets: 1. The Mahābhārata is a whole; 2. Its meaning is deeply implicated in its architecture; 3. The Ādiparvan, the first book of the epic, is the key to reading the epic as a whole. 1. The Mahābhārata is a whole: Following Biardeau’s insight into the unity of the epic,18 I read the Mahābhārata as a whole. With the completion of the Critical Edition (CE) text, which aims to reconstruct

16 Van Buitenen translates “unmathya” as “shattering,” but the word actually means “to shake up, disturb” or “to excite” or “act violently.” The root “manth” also occurs in the churning of the ocean episode (1.15.13c, 1.16.12a, and 116.29c, also see 1.35.3c) in which the gods and titans together churned the great ocean to obtain the amṛta contained in its depths. Thus we should note carefully the resonances of unmathya with this earlier episode. Garuḍa is not merely stealing the amṛta; he is, in a manner of speaking, undoing the foundational event that led to its emergence or availability. His superb flight represents a transcendence of amṛta at its very source in intellectual cogitation. 17 Van Buitenen translates “even tenor of his course,” which obscures the significance of karmaṇa. It is not the evenness of Garuḍa’s flight that is intended here, but the equanimity accompanying his actions. “Karmaṇā” therefore should be taken in the strictly literal sense of referring to Garuḍa’s actions in not drinking the soma and, by implication, not coveting the immortality it confers on the drinker. 18 See her series of articles titled “Études de mythologie Hindoue: Cosmogonies purāniques” originally published in three parts in Bulletin de l’École Française de Extrême Orient (1968, 69, 71) and since reprinted in

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“the oldest form of the text which it is possible to reach, on the basis of the manuscript material available,”19 we now possess the Mahābhārata in its inceptive and exceptional form. Thus this version will form the textual basis for my analysis. 2. The epic’s meaning is deeply implicated in its architecture: The CE demonstrates that the eighteen-parvan architecture is a major feature of the epic,20 coming to rival and replace the hundred-parvan list in significance.21 Within this architecture, three sections are especially relevant for my analysis: (i) The Ādiparvan, which contains hermeneutic keys to reading the text as a whole; (ii) The Bhagavadgītā, an eighteen-chapter text placed one-third way of the way into the epic in Book Six, which answers the question of how to live in pravṛtti; (iii) The Nārāyaṇīya, another eighteen-chapter text placed two-thirds of the way into the epic in Book Twelve, which outlines the question of nivṛtti. I will consider the theological program of the epic via reference to these three sections. 3. The Ādiparvan, the first book of the epic, is the key to reading the epic as a whole: The Garuḍa narrative occurs within the front-end materials of the Ādiparvan and thus comprises part of the hermeneutic and pedagogic apparatus to the text. It therefore should be closely studied for clues to the epic’s literary and philosophical project. The old Vedic tale of Suparṇa attains new configurations as part of this formulation of an ontological pedagogy and soteriology in the epic. I will focus on two main points in my interpretation of the narrative: (i) Garuḍa as soul, and (ii) The dynamics of ascent. One final point needs to be mentioned. Although my interpretation is based on the CE text, the Garuḍa narrative is attested to in all witness texts. It is thus a central and enduring feature of the Mahābhārata manuscript tradition. The variations between the different recensions are minor. The main features of this story, i.e., bondage to the

revised form in Études de mythologie hindoue, vol. 1: Cosmogonies purāniques (Paris: Ecole Française d’Extrême Orient, 1981). I discuss the merits of Biardeau’s approach in “Philosophical Aspects of Bhakti in the Nārāyaṇīya,” in Papers of the 15th World Sanskrit Conference, ed. Alf Hiltebeitel (Delhi: Rashtriya Sanskrit Sansthan, forthcoming). 19 V.S. Sukthankar, “Prolegomena,” in V.S. Sukthankar, ed., The Ādiparvan for the First Time Critically Edited (Pune: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, 1933), lxxxvi. 20 This is true only of the northern mss. The southern mss. are unanimous in reading twenty four parvans; see Sukthankar, “Prolegomena,” xxxiii. However, this feature truly does seem to be canonical of the text. Although the oldest extant parvan list of the Mahābhārata is fragmentary and hence incomplete, it also suggests a total of eighteen parvans, though the figure may be longer (it is impossible to make a final determination, since we do not know the dimensions of the palm leaf on which the list is found). Schlingloff thinks there were two more names below the last preserved one, making a total of eighteen, although he concedes there might have been more than two; Dieter Schlingloff, “The Oldest Extant Parvan-List of the Mahābhārata,” Journal of the American Oriental Society 89.2 (1969): 335 and n. 5. John Brockington is more diffident, see his “The Spitzer Manuscript and the Mahābhārata,” in From Turfan to Ajanta: Festschrift for Dieter Schlingloff on the Occasion of his Eightieth Birthday, ed. Eli Franco and Monika Zin (Lumbini: Lumbini International Research Institute, 2010), 84. 21 Sukthankar considers the longer list to be older; see V.S. Sukthankar, “Epic Studies I. Some Aspects of the Mahabhdrata Canon,” in Sukthankar Memorial Edition, vol. 1, Critical Studies in the Mahabharata, ed. S.M. Katre (Bombay: Karnatak Publishing House, 1944), 202.

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snakes, ascent to fetch soma, and exchange of boons with Viṣṇu are found in all recensions. Although there are frequent interpolations, these are mostly of a few lines. The northern mss. contain many more interpolations than the southern; these interpolations are usually shorter and are not shared across larger manuscript groups, suggesting that they are in the nature of scribal additions. In contrast, the interpolations in the southern mss. are longer and often common to the recension as a whole, attesting the better-preserved nature of the text in the south—a fact Sukthankar already remarked upon in his “Prolegomena” to the Ādiparvan CE.22

D. The Avian Soul:

In this section, I will examine the textual evidence for considering Garuḍa as the soul, both within Indic sources such as Vedas and the Upaniṣads and in the epic.23 Although earlier scholarship focused mainly on Garuḍa as the Indo-European firebird, there is much more reason to look at Garuḍa as a metaphor for the soul. In the Bṛhadāraṇyaka Up. Bhujyu, the grandson of Lahya, asks Yājñavalkya: where have the sons of Parikṣit gone? The sage answers that they have gone where the sacrificers of aśvamedha go. His exact answer is as follows:

Thirty-two times the space covered by the sun’s chariot in a day makes this world; around it, covering twice the area, is the earth; around the earth, covering twice the area, is the ocean. Now, as is the edge of a razor, or the wing of a fly, so is there just that much opening

22 “It should thus seem that the infidelities of the Southern recension are confined mainly to a tendency to inflation and elaboration. In parts unaffected by this tendency, it is likely to prove, on the whole, purer, more conservative and more archaic than even the best Northern version. The Southern variants, therefore, deserve the closest attention and most sympathetic study.” Sukthankar, “Prolegomena,” xlvi-ii. 23 The association of the soul with a winged creature is not a feature of Indian texts alone. The Greek tradition frequently uses the image of the winged soul. Plato in the Phaedrus describes the ascent of the winged soul, born aloft on the wings of eros. This work was to be enormously influential on the Middle Platonists. Commentators in late antiquity such as Iamblichus and Syrianus (Iamblichus’ commentary has not survived. The main source of information on it is Hermias’ commentary on the same work. From this work, we know that Syrianus lectured on the text and the Proclus and Hermeias both attended these lectures. Hermeias’ commentary is based on notes of these lectures) and in the Renaissance such as Ficino all took the myth seriously. In his commentary on the Phaedrus, Syrianus’ student Hermias portrays Socrates as a divine messenger, sent down to aid souls to make the philosophic ascent (In. Phdr. 1,1-5). Hermias also connected Plato’s metaphor of the soul as a chariot with Parmenides’ chariot (In. Phdr. 122,19-21). Although neither the chariot nor the horses are referred to as winged here, the youth mounted on the chariot does undertake an ascent beyond the gates of Justice to the realm of an unnamed Goddess. Even though Plato gives explicit content and structure to the idea of the winged soul, the notion does not originate with him. Harrison presents many examples from Greek funerary art that show that the soul was conceived of as a small winged creature (see Jane Ellen Harrison, Prolegemona to the Study of Greek Religion [Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1903]). Rohde in his classic work on Greek beliefs on the soul comments that Attic oil-flasks illustrate the belief in the soul as “hovering” over the site of their cult, “for they represent the souls of the dead flying above their grave-monument.” “The diminutive size of these winged figures is evidently intended to represent their somewhat contradictory immaterial materiality, and to express their invisibility to mortal eyes. Sometimes, indeed, the souls become visible, and then, like the underworld gods and the Heroes, they prefer the shape of a snake.” Erwin Rohde, Psyche: The Cult of Souls and the Belief in Immortality among the Greeks (London: Routledge, 1925), 170. Finally in Near Eastern literature as well, soul is often described in avian terms. In Egyptian literature, the double soul Ka and Ba are represented as birds and in The Epic of Gilgamesh all souls become feathered beings residing in the Underworld.

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at the junction (of the two halves of the cosmic shell). (Through that they go out.) Fire, in the form of a falcon [suparṇa], delivered them to the air; the air, putting them in itself, took them to where the (previous) performers of the horse sacrifice were.24

Muṇḍaka Up. (3.1.1-2) and Śvetasvatāra Up. (4.6-7) also speak of the soul as a bird. In a famous allegory, the relationship of the individual soul to God is conceived of as that of two birds (dvā suparṇā) seated on a tree.25 Whereas the first bird enjoys the fruit of the tree, the other merely looks on. Deluded by her who is not the Lord,26 the individual soul (puruṣa) experiences grief, but when it gazes upon the Lord (īśa) or the Person (puruṣa), it attains identity with him. For Śaṁkara, this absolute identity (paramam sāmyam) consists in the realization of non-duality (i.e., of the soul and God).

Other texts more often use the term “haṁsa,” swan or goose, for the soul. Haṁsa in the Upaniṣads occurs at: Chāndogya Up. 4.1.2, 4.7.1-3, 4.8.1, Κaṭha Up. 5.2, Śvetāśvatara 1.6, 3.18, and 6.15, Maitrī Up. 6.8, 7.7, Mahānārāyaṇa Up. 9.3, 17.8, and the less well-known Haṁsa Up. 1 and 2. Bṛhadāraṇyaka Up. 2.5.18 refers to a “bird” (pakṣī). Ekahaṁsa (“goose”) occurs at Bṛhadāraṇyaka Up. 4.3.11-12.27 The word “haṁsa” does not occur in the Bhagavadgītā. However in the chapter on Kṛṣṇa’s vibhūtis in the Bhagavadgītā, Kṛṣṇa says that among birds, he is the son of Vinatā, i.e., Garuḍa (’haṁ vainateyaś ca pakṣiṇām, Bhagavadgītā 10.30). Finally, both Ānandagiri and Śaṁkara read pakṣaḥ at Taittirīya Up. 2.1.1, 2.2.1, 2.3.1 and 2.4.1 in the sense of “wing” and interpret the description of the prāṇamaya, manomaya, vijñānamaya, and ānandamaya kośas in these verses as a eulogy and comparison of the four sheaths or the four “selves” with a bird.

In the epic as well, the avian metaphor plays a major role in narratives of the soul. I will focus here on four main instances. The first concerns Vyāsa’s son Śuka, the ultimate paradigm of ascent to liberation in the epic. Śuka, whose name means “parrot,”28 is the first of Vyāsa’s pupils to attain mokṣa. The narrative of his mokṣa ascent constitutes a major portion of the Mokṣadharmaparvan (12.310-320). In 12.319, Śuka begins his journey to emancipation, flying like Garuḍa (tam udyantaṃ dvijaśreṣṭhaṃ vainateyasamadyutim, 12.319.11ab).29 The motif of flight not only recalls Garuḍa’s ascent

24 The Bṛhadāraṇyaka Upaniṣad: With the Commentary of Śaṅkarācārya, trans. Swami Madhavananda (Calcutta: Advaita Ashrama, 1975). 25 Śaṁkara in his commentary on the text interprets the tree as the body on account of the body’s “being demolished like a tree.” He further identifies the tree with the inverted banyan of the Bhagavadgītā (15.1) and the Kaṭha Up. (2.3.1). Śaṁkara identifies the “Umanifested (Māyā)” as the “material cause” of the tree. The tree “sprouts up” from this material cause, and forms “a support for the karmas of all beings.” In his commentary, he writes “God and the soul—[the latter] as conditioned by the subtle body which holds in itself the tendencies and impressions created by ignorance, desire, and action—cling to it like birds.” Swāmī Gambhīrānanda, trans. Eight Upaniṣads: With the Commentary of Śaṅkarācārya, vol. 2 (Kolkatta: Advaita Ashrama, 2006). 26 Olivelle’s translation; Olivelle translates “anīśayā” as “not the Lord”; the implied reference would then be to Prakṛti or to Māyā. Gambhīrānanda, following Śaṁkara’s commentary, translates “by its impotence,” implying that it is the soul’s lack of control, possession, dominion, etc. that troubles it. 27 Olivelle translates ekahaṁsa as “goose,” although it can also have the meaning “the single destroyer of intelligence” (Monier-Williams, s.v. “ekahaṁsa”), i.e., a reference to the Puruṣa (this is how Swami Madhavānanda takes it, see his translation of the text cited above). 28 Monier-Williams, s.v. “śuka.” 29 The appearance of Garuḍa in the Śāntiparvan is quite infrequent, yet significant. He appears in unrelated passages in the Śāntiparvan in the form of “Tārkṣya” at 12.43.8, 12.46.34, and 12.48.14. But in the forms of “Garut-” and “Vainateya,” he appears only in the Mokṣadharmaparvan, and only in the Śuka and Nārāyaṇīya narratives. In the form of “Suparṇa” he appears in three scattered references (12.37.18,

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in the Āstīkaparvan (1.20–30), but also the idea of “being seen” by all beings: “As that best of twice-born ones, endowed with radiance equal to Garuḍa, was ascending in the skies with the speed of the wind or thought, all creatures gazed up at him.”30 In 12.320, Bhīṣma describes how Śuka, casting off the three guṇas, became established in Brahman, blazing like a smokeless fire.31 We learn how he dashed against the twin peaks of Meru and Himavat, and how, splitting the peaks, he flew up to his ultimate goal.32 Bhīṣma sums up the story of Śuka with the following words: “That person devoted to tranquility who hears this sacred history directly connected with the topic of Emancipation is certain to attain to the highest end.”33

Śuka’s flight in turn sets up three other flights in the concluding sections of the Mokṣadharmaparvan: (i) Nārada’s flight to the mystic isle Śvetadvīpa; (ii) king Vasu’s flight to Nārāyaṇa’s abode (nārāyaṇapadaṁ, 12.323.56c) born aloft on the wings of Garuḍa; and (iii) the flight of an unnamed uñcha brāhmaṇa in the book’s concluding Uñchavṛtty-Upākhyāna who shoots up straight into the sun. Even though these beings are not referred to as winged, it is clear that the flight of the bird constitutes a basic trope for salvation in the epic.34 Each of these narratives in some way recalls Garuḍa’s

12.47.28, and 12.52.31). However, most significantly, Garuḍa also appears as “Suparṇa” once within the Mokṣadharmaparvan, as Bhīṣma is expounding on the marks of future greatness and degeneration in a chapter (12.221) exactly a hundred chapters before the Nārāyaṇīya. This chapter marks a critical juncture: it is the end of the first segment of ascent, which is dominated by Indra, and the beginning of the second segment, in which Nārada will be the chief character who slowly traces that journey to the ultimate goal represented in the Nārāyaṇīya. These two segments relate to each other as the pravṛtti ascent or the “first transcendence” to the nivṛtti ascent (the “second transcendence”), as I have argued in my article “The Vasu Narratives of the Mahābhārata: Some Lexical and Textual Issues,” paper presented at the Sixth Dubrovnik International Conference on the Sanskrit Epics and Purāṇas, August 2011. Whereas the first transcendence culminates in attaining Indra’s heaven, the second leads beyond it to brahman (which in the epic is often associated with Viṣṇu). In the present passage, the limits of the first transcendence are indicated by Bali’s words to Indra in the Bali–Vāsava-Saṁvāda: Bali tells Indra that many thousands of Indras have passed away before him and that he, too, will one day be destroyed by Time (bahūnīndrasahasrāṇi samatītāni vāsava ǀ balavīryopapannāni yathaiva tvaṁ śacīpate, 12.217.54). Thereafter, Śrī is introduced. At this juncture of the “going down of Indra” and the “rising up of Nārada,” both of these figures go to bathe in the Ganges, which has issued out of “Dhruva” (dhruvadvārabhavāṃ, 12.221.6). They see the same Śrī, now no longer shining in the temporal cycles of Indras, but appearing in the direction opposite to the day-star as a ‘second sun’, mounted on Garuḍa (ākāśe dadṛśe jyotir udyatārciḥsamaprabham // tayoḥ samīpaṃ saṃprāptaṃ pratyadṛśyata bhārata / tat suparṇārkacaritam āsthitaṃ vaiṣṇavaṃ padam / bhābhir apratimaṃ bhāti trailokyam avabhāsayat, 12.221.11c–12). Garuḍa here must signify the vaiṣṇavaṃ padam or the soteriological goal. 30 tam udyantaṃ dvijaśreṣṭhaṃ vainateyasamadyutim / dadṛśuḥ sarvabhūtāni manomārutaraṃhasam, 12.319.11. 31 brahmaṇi pratyatiṣṭhat sa vidhūmo ’gnir iva jvalan, 12.320.3cd. 32 Recall that Garuḍa’s flight to the soma was also launched from a mountain, albeit an unnamed one. In the Nārāyaṇīya, the motif of the launch of the mokṣa ascent from a mountain returns: the final stage of sage Nārada’s journey to view the one is launched from mount Meru. 33 itihāsam imaṃ puṇyaṃ mokṣadharmārthasaṃhitam / dhārayed yaḥ śamaparaḥ sa gacchet paramāṃ gatim, 12.320.41. 34 Soul in the Mahābhārata is a complex topic. To my knowledge, there have been no in-depth studies of the subject, perhaps due in part to the prejudice that the epic does not have a single, consistent doctrine of the soul. I have here used the term somewhat generically, but it would be useful to continue exploration of the topic along a continuum of terms that articulate the conception of soul in the epic, especially as it unfolds and develops along this continuum. Potential candidates would include dehin, jīva, kṣetrajña, and ultimately ātman. Each of these occupies a highly specific place in the epic’s psychology.

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flight not only through the basic paradigm of ascent, but also through specific motifs such as the launch of the journey from a mountain, the rejection of Indra and his heavenly boons, or the significance of tapas in enabling this supernal ascent. In the next two sections, I will expand on the last two points, which enable us to understand how the epic conceives of the nivṛtti goal of salvation vis-à-vis pravṛtti.

E. Garuḍa’s Ascent:

In the preceding section, we saw how Garuḍa’s ascent to fetch soma is articulated as a series of smaller ascents, each fuelled by food (the Niṣādas, elephant and tortoise). Let us examine the structure of these ascents more closely:

1. The story of liberation: Garuḍa is born into servitude along with his mother Vinatā.35 The very reason given for his birth is to liberate Vinatā.36 In doing so, he also shatters the wheel of pain that separates mortals from the pot of immortality.

2. Liberation occurs through the structural motif of an ascent. This ascent begins on a mountain.

3. The liberation epanodos includes two segments: one to Indra’s heaven to steal amṛta, and another to a height beyond Viṣṇu. Let us call these two ascents the “Indra segment” and “Viṣṇu segment” respectively.

4. These two ascents are related to each other as a series, not as parallel alternatives.

5. A tree and a flagpole are closely associated with these two ascents. 6. The tree, associated with Indra,37 turns out to be an unsteady support, and

Garuḍa is forced to discard it. Viṣṇu’s flagpole, in turn, is achieved through equanimity which impresses Viṣṇu.

Together, they articulate the semantic field of soul concepts in the epic, a field that is less a theoretical issue than it is a pedagogical concern. For example, in the Bhagavadgītā the first “soul-word” introduced is dehin (2.13a, 22c, and 30a). But as Arjuna’s understanding matures, Kṛṣṇa successively introduces more terms for soul, with something of a development away from reified concepts of soul to a noetic soul (the kṣetrajña, which occupies an entire chapter, chapter 13, towards the book’s end, seems to be the highest concept of soul; it appears as e a precursor to sākṣin, the notion that is to be so important for later Vedānta). Each of these terms refer to “soul” via invoking the singularity of existence, but I would argue that they differ in the way they invoke this singularity, which they trace in its arc from contingency to ultimacy. Minoru Hara’s “Ātman in the Bhagavadgītā as Interpreted by Śaṅkara,” in Composing A Tradition: Concepts, Techniques and Relationships, ed. Mary Brockington & Peter Schreiner (Zagreb: Croatian Academy of Sciences and Arts, 1999), 67-90 contains useful albeit preliminary material on the study of “soul” in the epic. 35 It is initially not clear that Garuḍa is also a slave to the snakes. At Mahābhārata 1.18.4c, when Kadrū first proposes a wager, she only mentions that the loser shall be the winner’s servant (dāsī). And at 1.21.5c, Garuḍa is said to carry the snakes at his mother’s bidding (mātur vacanacoditaḥ). But at 1.23.8a, he does ask Vinatā why he must obey their every word (kiṁ kāraṇaṁ mayā mātaḥ kartavyaṁ sarpabhāṣitam), and when he approaches them at 1.23.10-11, he asks what it is he must do so that he be freed from being bound to them (kim āhṛtya viditvā vā kiṁ vā kṛtveha pauruṣam / dāsyād vo vipramucyeyaṁ, 1.23.11). 36 See Aruṇa’s prophecy to his mother (eṣa ca tvāṁ suto mātar dāsyatvān mokṣayiṣyati, 1.14.18c). Garuḍa also mentions that his flight is undertaken “for the sake of saving his mother from bondage” (mātur dāsyavimokṣārtham, 1.25.7c) in his speech to Kaśyapa. 37 Indra is associated with a seasonal festival of renewal that involved the setting up of Indra-poles. Mahābhārata 1.57 contains the earliest reference to such a custom; Indra is said to have presented Vasu a bamboo=pole (yaṣṭiṁ ca vaiṇavīṁ, 1.57.17a) which the king erected in his honor. See my paper “The Vasu

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7. The Viṣṇu segment is achieved by forsaking the Indra segment. Garuḍa explicitly asks for immortality without the aid of amṛta. No one is saved by Indra or by amṛta in this narrative.

8. The Indra segment is antagonistic to ṛṣis who practice tapas.38 Indra mocks them but they best him by creating Garuḍa. The antagonism reveals a deep divide, that of pravṛtti and nivṛtti.

9. Pravṛtti in the Mahābhārata is conceived of in terms of four genera: sacrifice, cosmology, genealogy, and war. Garuḍa’s flight is associated with transcending all four of these genera.39

10. Indra’s sovereignty is one of pravṛtti, powered by sacrifice and vulnerable to fall. Such a sacrifice is the pravṛtti-powering sacrifice.

11. Garuḍa’s attainment to a region above Viṣṇu is a different kind of achievement. It is one of nivṛtti.

12. In order to proceed on the path of nivṛtti, Garuḍa must overcome the four genera of “becoming”: sacrifice, cosmology, genealogy and war.

13. Garuḍa represents a different kind of sacrifice,40 a non-Agni, i.e., a non-pravṛtti sacrifice. Let us call it nivṛtti-conducive sacrifice, identifiable both with the tapas of the Vālakhilyas and with Garuḍa’s equanimity.

14. The Indra segment also prominently features a friendship: Indra seeks out Garuḍa’s friendship.

15. The Viṣṇu segment leaves the Indra segment intact. Indra is not unseated; his claim to the immortality of amṛta is challenged but not toppled.

Let us now draw some conclusions. The Garuḍa narrative sets up a constellation of motifs, arranged according to a division of pravṛtti and nivṛtti, which are conceived of as two ascents, or more precisely, two segments of an ascent. Pravṛtti is lorded over by Indra, while Viṣṇu is the figure representing nivṛtti. But these two ontological topoi, one of “becoming” and another of “being,” are not merely descriptive. There is a value attached to them. Becoming is necessary and painful, but not absolute. Being is available and desired, but requires ontological effort, an ascent beyond the four genera

Narratives of the Ādiparvan and the Nārāyaṇīya” for a discussion as well as a bibliography of the main literature on the subject. 38 Indra once mocked the Vālakhilyas, tiny thumb-sized sages, as they struggled to carry a leaf for sacrifice and came to grief in a puddle of water that had collected in the depression made by a cow’s hoof. Incensed the sages undertook a great sacrifice to create a second Indra to overthrow the king of the gods. Indra appealed to the Cosmocrator Kaśyapa for aid, and the sage asked the ascetics to spare the divine sovereign. They consented and offered him the fruit of the sacrifice (saphalaṁ karma, 1.27.23), which he presented to his wife Vinatā. From this was born in due course, Garuḍa, whose might rivaled Indra’s and who was to become an Indra of the birds. Kaśyapa’s diversion of the fruit of action from the pravṛtti goals of sovereignty and power to the nivṛtti goal of dispassion heralds or possibly recalls the main teachings of the Bhagavadgītā. 39 As Garuḍa successively feeds on the Niṣadas, tortoise and elephant, he becomes the “eater of food” (cf. Taittirīya Up. 3.1.3. to 3.10.1-2). Śaṁkara in his commentary on the Brahma Sūtra presents a rigorous argument for why the eater of food can be none other than the “highest Self,” i.e., Brahman alone. 40 This reinterpretation of sacrifice also includes the highest dharma of the Mahābhārata: ānṛśaṁsāya or “non-cruelty” as Hiltebeitel translates it (see his Rethinking the Mahābhārata: A Reader’s Guide to the Education of the Dharma King [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001], passim). I discuss the way the epic uses sacrifice to negotiate between the categories of violence and non-violence in my article “Literary Violence and Literaral Salvation: Śaunaka interprets the Mahābhārata,” Exemplar: The Journal of South Asian Studies 1 (2012): 45-68.

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of “becoming.” This is how the epic self-consciously sets up its task: to describe sacrifice, cosmology, genealogy and war41 and to reveal their ultimate finitude and their unavoidable violence and painfulness. Conversely, the epic also provides a saving ontology—difficult to discern but eminently desirable—manifest to understanding. Ontology and soteriology coincide. In the next section, I will expand on the relation between the two vis-à-vis the Vasu narratives of the Ādiparvan and Nārāyaṇīya.

F. The Vasu Narratives of the Ādiparvan and Nārāyaṇīya:

In the Ādiparvan, shortly after the hermeneutic materials, the epic begins once again. This time Vaiśaṁpāyana, the epic’s main narrator, provides genealogical beginnings for the characters within the epic.42 He begins with the story of king Vasu, a remote progenitor of the Kaurava lineage.43 In the Book of Origins, we hear of how the king laid down his rule and entered a hermitage bent upon austerities. But Indra, threatened by the king’s tapas, approaches him and persuades him to abandon his austerities. In return, he offers Vasu the kingdom of Cedi, a crystalline sky-going chariot, a garland that protects him from hurt in battle, and an Indra-pole to celebrate the seasonal Indra festival. Vasu accepts, and becomes a great monarch. His five sons are known as the five Vāsava kings (vāsavāḥ pañca rājānaḥ, 1.57.30), and each founds a dynasty. Stationed on this divine chariot Vasu becomes renowned as “Uparicara” or the “sky-going” one.44

In the Śāntiparvan, towards the end of the epic, Vasu appears yet again in a narrative recounted by Bhīṣma.45 Immediately upon conclusion of the narrative of Śuka’s flight, Yudhiṣṭhira once again raises the question of salvation. Specifically, he asks about the nature of the highest good (niḥśreyasaṁ param) as well as about that stable heaven (dhruvaḥ svargaḥ) which is immune to a fall (na cyavate).46 In response, Bhīṣma launches into the story of Nārada’s ascent to see the One, transcending the fourfold of Hari, Kṛṣṇa, and Nara-Nārāyaṇa. As part of this narrative concerning the nature of that highest, permanent good, Bhīṣma introduces king Vasu. Vasu Uparicara

41 For a discussion of the epic’s four genera of becoming, see my “Authenticity and the Problem of the Beginning in the Mahābhārata,” PhD Diss., Marburg University, 2012. 42 See Appendix 2 for the pattern of genealogical descent from Vasu. 43 Vasu is related to the Kuru genealogy via Vyāsa, who is Satyavatī’s son. Vyāsa fathers Dhṛtarāṣṭra and Pāṇḍu on the wives of the Kuru king Vicitravīrya. Vasu is thus a progenitor of the Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas. 44 vasantam indraprāsāde ākāśe sphāṭike ca tam / upatasthur mahātmānaṁ gandharvāpsaraso nṛpam // rājoparicarety evaṁ nāma tasyātha viśrutam, 1.57.31a-e. 45 The story of Vasu occurs in chapters 12.322, 12.323 and 12.324, which are chapters 2,3 and 4 of the Nārāyaṇīya. The Nārāyaṇīya (12.321-339) constitutes the penultimate portion of the Mokṣadharmaparvan 12.168-353), which itself constitutes the last of the three main divisions of the Śāntiparvan. 46 yudhiṣṭhira uvāca / gṛhastho brahmacārī vā vānaprastho ’tha bhikṣukaḥ / ya icchet siddhim āsthātuṁ devatāṁ kāṁ yajeta saḥ // kuto hy asya dhruvaḥ svargaḥ kuto niḥśreyasaṁ param / vidhinā kena juhuyād daivaṁ pitryaṁ tathaiva ca // muktaś ca kāṁ gatiṁ gacchen mokṣaś caiva kimātmakaḥ / svargataś caiva kiṁ kuryād yena na cyavate divaḥ // devatānāṁ ca ko devaḥ pitr ̥ṇ̄āṁ ca tathā pita / tasmāt parataraṁ yac ca tan me brūhi pitāmaha, 12.321.1-4.

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is a noble and devout ruler, who performs the sacrifices ordained and lived off of the sacrificial remainder (śeṣa). A friend of Indra’s, Vasu received a bed and throne, kingdom, wealth, wife, and vehicles from the king of the gods, yet always regarded these as the Lord’s (12.322.16-25). Once the king undertook an aśvamedha sacrifice; Bṛhaspati, the preceptor of the gods was present as hotṛ, while the Creator’s sons, Ekatā, Dvita, and Trita, were present as sadasyas. Unusually, this sacrifice was performed with forest-gathered ingredients (āraṇyakapadodgītā, 12.323.10e). Through the sacrifice, Vasu became a great king, but later fell from heaven due to the Brahmins’ curse. Living in a crack in the earth, he remained devoted to Nārāyaṇa and by his grace (prasādena, 12.323.57a) attained to his abode (nārāyaṇapadaṁ, 12.323.56c).

In chapter 4, we hear more of Vasu’s fall. Yudhiṣṭhira asks how, if the king had been a devotee of Nārāyaṇa, he could have fallen, and Bhīṣma narrates the story of the Brahmins’ curse. Once the ṛṣis and the thirty gods were engaged in a dispute about whether the Vedic injunction to sacrifice with aja should be interpreted as referring to seeds (a-ja, i.e., unborn) or as referring to goats (aja). The gods insist that sacrifice should be performed with goats, while the ṛṣis insist that this being kṛta yuga, the best of ages, animals ought not be slain (12.324.1-5). Vasu encounters the gods and sages, and they ask him to settle their dispute. After clarifying their respective positions, Vasu settles in favor of the gods. At this, the sages curse him to fall from the sky. Vasu falls into a crack in the earth,47 but due to Nārāyaṇa’s decree does not lose his memory (smṛtis tv enaṁ na prajahau tadā nārāyaṇājñayā, 12.323.16e). The gods offer Vasu two boons: he will be nourished by the sacrificial run-off called “Vasu streams” (vasor dhārāṁ, 12.324.23e) that flow into the earth and neither hunger nor old age will affect him until Nārāyaṇa uplifts him again. Pleased with Vasu’s devotion, Nārāyaṇa orders Garuḍa to go down and rescue him. Garuḍa brings Vasu back to Brahmaloka (12.324.27-35) and in that very instant he becomes Uparicara again.48

The reappearance of Garuḍa in this portion of the epic is significant, as it serves to link the Vasu narrative to the Garuḍa narrative. Yet, at first sight there does not seem to be much to connect these two narratives. However, we make more progress when we set aside our prejudices of a historical war narrative and an outlandish tale of a big bird—allegedly the interpolation of Brahmanic “redactors”49—and look instead at

47 tatas tasmin muhūrte ’tha rājoparicaras tadā / adho vai saṁbabhūvāśu bhūmer vivarago nṛpaḥ, 12.324.16. 48 See 12.324.36a (tasmin muhūrte saṁjajñe rājoparicaraḥ punaḥ) and cp. 12.324.16a (tatas tasmin muhūrte ’tha rājoparicaras tadā): Vasu’s fall is framed by references to the loss and restoration of his Uparicara status. 49 This is the view of Thomas Oberlies, who considers the Vasu narrative to be the original—and earliest—Mahābhārata, the “Vasu-version” as he calls it (see his “(Un)ordnung im Mahābhārata: Rahmenerzählungen, Gesprächsebenen und Inhaltsangaben,” Studien zur Indologie und Iranistik 25 [2008]: passim). In contrast, Oberlies proposes that the frame narratives of the Ādiparvan (among which is included the Garuḍa narrative) would have been the work of “Nārāyaṇa theologians” who took over the original Kṣatriya epic and were interested in importing their Brahmanic ideology wholesale into the text. See ibid., and also his “Die Ratschläge des Sehers Nārada—Ritual an und unter der Oberfläche des Mahābhārata,” in Neue Methoden der Epenforschung, ed. H. Tristram (Tübingen: Gunter Narr Verlag, 1998), 125-141. This reconstruction of the text’s putative history, founded more in fantasy than fact, is also the basis of his three chapters—“The textual history of Part A of the Nārāyaṇīya,” “Textual history of adhyāya 326 (ch. 4),” and “Names of god, concepts of sacrifice and horizons of time in Part A of the Nārāyaṇīya”—contributed to Nārāyaṇīya-Studien, ed. Peter Schreiner (Wiesbaden: Harrassowitz, 1997).

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Garuḍa as a signification for: (i) The ascent of the soul to God; and (ii) transcendence of the pravṛtti realm of Indra by the nivṛtti goal of attaining mokṣa.

Applying these perspectives to the Vasu narrative, we may now say that the story of this king follows a pattern established by the Garuḍa narrative. Vasu’s first ascent unfolds explicitly as an Indra ascent. Yet, this ascent turns out to be impermanent. Vasu falls and must rise again, this time borne aloft not on a crystalline chariot, emblem of the body,50 but on the wings of the soul. Here now, he finds a stable and permanent solution to the problem of how to attain the ontological good.51 And thus, Yudhiṣṭhira’s inceptive question, what is that dhruvaḥ svargaḥ and, beyond it, the niḥśreyasaṁ param?, is also answered.

Scholars often see the rivalry of Indra and Viṣṇu as occurring on a single level, with Indra and the sacrificial order being superseded by Viṣṇu and the phenomenon of bhakti. Yet this is too simplistic a view. Obscured by the symbolic genius of myth, the ideas articulated in the epic, when studied carefully, reveal a different picture. The Vasu narrative establishes that ultimate ascent is twofold, and the soul, the “indweller” must undergo the second transcendence as distinct from the first, to achieve the salvation of being. This indweller, as the Kaṭha Up. points out explicitly,52 and the Mahābhārata through its Vasu narratives, is Vasu.53 This double transcendence can now be given some nomenclature, resting completely on the Mahābhārata. The first

50 For evidence of the chariot as a metaphor for the body, see Kaṭha Up. 1.3.3-4; Hiltebeitel discusses the symbolism of the chariot in his “Two Kṛṣṇas on One Chariot: Upaniṣadic Upaniṣadic Imagery and Epic Mythology,” in Reading the Fifth Veda: Studies on the Mahābhārata, Essays by Alf Hiltebeitel, vol. 1, ed. Vishwa Adluri & Joydeep Bagchee (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 2011). In the Nārāyaṇīya at 12.321.10-11a Nara and Nārāyaṇa obtain a “delightful” eight-wheeled golden chariot through austerity. Since these two sages are a dyad or a pair, the eight wheels probably refer to the eight limbs (four arms, four legs) of that composite entity. 51 In the Kaṭha Up. Death makes a distinction between the merely pleasurable (preyas) and the ontologically good (śreyas) (see 1.2.1). The dhīraḥ, the wise ones, the steadfast ones, elect the good over the pleasurable (1.2.2). At 2.1.1, the dhīraḥ are said to be those ones, who turning their eyes away from the manifest world, seek (and see) the indwelling self. Messages and motifs from the Kaṭha Up. thus pervade the Garuḍa narrative, which I therefore propose is best read in light of a monistic ontology. 52 See Kaṭha Up. 2.2.2 (the verse is repeated at RV 4.60.5); Olivelle translates: “The goose seated in the light, the Vasu seated in the sky; The Hotṛ seated at the altar, the guest seated in the house; Seated in men, seated in the wide expanse, Seated in the truth, seated in heaven; Born from water, born from cows, Born from the truth, born from rocks; The great truth!” Patrick Olivelle, trans., Upaniṣads (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1998). 53 The word “vasu” is derived from root “vas” with the meanings ““to shine,” “to clothe,” and “to dwell.” William Dwight Whitney, Sanskrit Grammar (Mineola, NY: Dover Publications, 2003). Among the meanings Monier-Williams lists for “vasu” are “dwelling or dweller.” Root “vas” is related to the IE root “wes”; Watkings provides the following entry: “To live, dwell, pass the night, with derivatives meaning “to be.” (Oldest form *<>2wes-.) 1. O-grade (perfect tense) form *wos-. was, from Old English wæs, was, from Germanic *was-. 2. Lengthened-grade form *wēs-. were, from Old English wæ ̅re (subjunctive), wæ ̅ron (plural), were, from Germanic *wēz-. 3. wassail, from Old Norse vesa, vera, to be, from Germanic *wesan. 4. Perhaps suffixed form *wes-tā-. Vesta, from Latin Vesta, household goddess. 5. Possibly suffixed variant form *was-tu-. astute, from Latin astus, skill, craft (practiced in a town), from Greek astu, town (< “place where one dwells”). 6. Suffixed form *wes-eno-. divan, from Old Persian vahanam, house. (Pokorny 1. ṵes- 1170.) To clothe. Extension of eu-. 1. Suffixed o-grade (causative) form *wos-eyo-. wear, from Old English werian, to wear, carry, from Germanic *wazjan. 2. Suffixed form *wes-ti-. vest; devest, invest, revet, travesty, from Latin vestis, garment. 3. Suffixed form *wes-nu-. himation, from Greek hennunai, to clothe, with nominal derivative heima, hi ̅ma (< *wes-m ), garment. (Pokorny 5. ṵes - 1172.).” Calvert Watkins, The American Heritage Dictionary of Indo-European Roots (New York: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2000), 101. I discuss the significance of the semantics and morphology of the term in my paper on Vasu cited above.

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transcendence marks the limits of pravṛtti, with Indra as the king of kings marking off its upper limit. The “indweller” which must cross this limit is Vasu, and until this stage, its journey is guided by the friendly assistance of Indra Vāsava. But the “indweller” Vasu54 must go beyond pravṛtti, and thus go beyond the limit of Indra Vāsava. This nivṛtti transcendence is either second or other than the first. Its goal is “being” itself, Vāsudeva. Thus we have:

First Transcendence

Pravṛtti Garuḍa obtains Soma

Vasu is befriended by Indra

Indra or Vāsava ascent

Rulership

Second Transcendence

Nirvṛtti Garuḍa attains Viṣṇu

Vasu is helped by Nārāyaṇa

Viṣṇu or Vāsudeva ascent

Salvation

Above, I had referred to the two stages of Garuḍa’s flight as the “Indra segment” and “Viṣṇu segment” respectively. The Vasu narrative, which shares in this structure of an Indra ascent followed by a Viṣṇu ascent, confirms this interpretation. Yet, if this were all it did, it would merely be repeating the message of the Garuḍa narrative, albeit in a different symbolic key. Fortunately, it does more than this: it clarifies that the soul is ultimately Vasu and that it, as Vasu, stands on a continuum with other vas-beings, i.e., Vāsava, Vasus, and Vāsudeva. And hence, the entire epic unfolds within a space delineated by the semantic domain of root “vas.” Garuḍa is the “Ideenprofil” that holds together and allows us to understand this structure. Together the two narratives, i.e., of Garuḍa and Vasu, not only point to the ontological goal, but also clarify the diffusion into onticity.55 They thus map the epic’s literary and philosophical project.

G. The Mahābhārata and Bhakti:

Let me now draw this discussion to a close, and also conclude with some wider comments on the significance of this analysis for the theme of Hindu theologies of love. I already alluded above to the distinction between time and eternity as the epic’s

54 The polysemy of the word “vasu” is such that it can refer both to a dwelling place and to the dweller. I have argued in my Vasu paper that the eight Vasus, whose function in terrestrial dwelling is attested to in verses such as ŚB 7.1.2.6 and 10 and ŚB 6.5.2.3, represent the coming together of the elements to fashion a dwelling place; meanwhile another Vasu (Dyaus, who is born as Bhīṣma) descends to become the indwelling one. King Vasu, who falls into a crack in the earth in the Nārāyaṇīya, is also an indweller. He is the epic symbol par excellence for terrestrial dwelling. 55 Although the epic makes use of mythic narratives in clarifying the structure of pravṛtti and nivṛtti, it is important to clarify that these stories are based on a rigorous ontology, whose sources are ultimately Vedic and Upaniṣadic. Since its earliest period, Indian thought has made a distinction between time and eternity. The latter is associated with that “being” alone, which is qualified by statements such as tad ekam (RV 10.129) and ekam evādvitīyam (Ch. Up. 6.2.1). The latter encompasses all of creation, extending downwards from Brahmā or Prajāpati and hence, by implication, also the goal of heaven; for support, see especially the dialogue between Naciketas and Death in the Kaṭha Up. Naciketas’ first two boons concern reconciliation with his father and knowledge of the secret of the fire that leads to heaven (svargyam agniṃ), i.e., pravṛtti goals. But the third boon asks for knowledge of “being,” ontology or brahmavidyā. This knowledge goes beyond the transactional realm, and hence Death is initially unwilling to grant it. But when Naciketas remains steadfast in the face of promises of long life and earthly delights, Death finally agrees to instruct him.

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central concern. The analysis of the Garuḍa and Vasu narratives presented here now shows that this distinction becomes the primary axiom of the literary project of the Mahābhārata. It informs every aspect of the epic: not only the distribution of its narratives, as we have seen, but also its situation (in the Naimiṣa Forest, the Forest of the Moment), its unfolding (as the narrative of “becoming”), and its deferral of a full-scale theology (presented only towards the end of the Kuru narrative, after the fall of Bhīṣma).

Yet, the distinction between time and eternity also necessitates that the problem of salvation be posed in a twofold perspective, for at stake here is not simply the sempiternity of heaven or of everlasting life, but the eternity of “being.” It is in response to this problem—as well as the related problem of a metaphysical transcendence,56 a first transcendence as I have called it here—that the epic posits

56 “Metaphysics” and, by implication, any form of transcendence (whether conceived of as transcendent entities such as the Platonic forms or the transcendence of a heavenly realm) has been considered suspect in Western philosophy at least since Kant. The dismissal of Platonic metaphysics has roots as old as the Stoic tradition, but it is a given a new theological impetus and a renewed sense of urgency by Luther, in whose wake Kant presents his first Critique as a critique of “dogmatic [i.e., Aristotelian and Scholastic] metaphysics.” The issue becomes acute in the 20th century with Heidegger’s revival of the Lutheran attack on the ontology of the Greeks. Following Nietzsche’s exposure of the essentially theological nature of German philosophy, Heidegger struggles to reinstate the Lutheran-Kantian critique of metaphysics. Although Nietzsche shares their anti-metaphysical stance, he nonetheless includes all of post-Kantian modern philosophy within Platonic metaphysics, thus blowing a hole in Kant’s claim of having engended a critical turn and the Enlightenment’s pretense of having inaugurated a scientific, post-metaphysical era. Contemporary Western philosophy takes Heidegger’s claim of initiating a new, post-metaphysical age of thinking seriously, yet it overlooks the theological overtones of this claim. As van Buren has shown Heidegger renews the Lutheran project of opposing a theologia crucis (a theology of the cross) to a theologia gloriae (a theology of glory). Luther saw the latter as evidence of the hubris of the ancients, who thought they could arrive at a knowledge of God merely through the use of their reason. In contrast, by placing the experience of the suffering and humiliated Christ center-stage, Luther sought to demonstrate the inadequacy of intellection and to expose the pretensions of the ancients to being able to know God without his self-showing. Yet, after Nietzsche’s attack on historical-critical Biblical scholarship (see especially his acerbic criticisms of David Friedrich Strauß in Zweite unzeitgemäße Betrachtung), Western philosophy cannot simply return to the Lutheran project. Nietzsche exposes the performative contradiction at the heart of the historical-critical scholars’ project of establishing the historicity of Christ and wanting and accepting only a historical Christ with his famous proclamation “God is dead.” What is less well known is the remainder of this quote in which Nietzsche points out that it is “we [who] have killed him,” i.e., killed him through making him historical and calculable, the subject of our historical-critical researches. He also correctly draws the consequence that we shall now “ourselves” have to “become gods simply to appear worthy of it [i.e., the deed of killing God].” The deification of mortals in the absence of divinity Nietzsche diagnoses has been underway since, seen not least in the replacement of the Lord’s prayer with a prayer to Hitler in 1930s Germany. Western philosophy can no longer return to the Lutheran project following Nietzsche’s trenchant critique. Instead, it now needs to project a meta-narrative of metaphysics as a necessary moment in the “history of being” (Seinsgeschichte) on the way to its eventual overcoming. In this way, a specifically Christian experience and a uniquely Lutheran concern is universalized into an obligatory, normative, and teleological history of all cultures and civilizations. Once again, the main target of this narrative is the Platonic notion of a heavenly ladder that is to be ascended through (the use of) dialectic. French thinkers have followed Heidegger’s lead in accepting that we live in an era after the collapse and discrediting of all metaphysics, yet they do not want a God who is simply historical (Christ), since as Nietzsche showed such a concept still remains susceptible to being recouped and recuperated by metaphysical structures. Rather, the mode of showing of this God becomes that of an absence, a staying away or an infinite deferral. God becomes the event that never arrives; we must now act, says Derrida, as if there was a God, as if a God was arriving who of

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double transcendence in the narratives of Garuḍa and Vasu. Although I have focused mainly on the philosophical implications of this move in my paper, I would like to conclude with some wider reflections on the consequences of this notion for the development of Hinduism.

First, the structure of double transcendence demonstrates that the epic’s theology is immune to the charge of an uncritical metaphysics. It clearly posits Indra’s heaven as a metaphysical moment necessary to articulate ontological salvation, but then problematizes and overcomes this notion in turn.57 Although it appears thereby to reject Indra, it in fact subsumes him within a rigorous ontological scheme. The epic is thus also immune to charges of an overthrow of a pure Vedic or Āryan religion. Even though scholars from Holtzmann to Oldenberg all the way to contemporary scholars like Söhnen-Thieme58 and Oberlies have made this claim, the epic does not replace one sectarian god by another. Rather, it strives to understand how their two domains can be integrated within a comprehensive ontology: one capable of accounting for the cycles of “becoming” as well as for “being.”59 Indra, the arch-figure of pravṛtti, is not

course never arrives. Instead of the verticality of the Platonic ascent, which guarantees both God’s transcendence and immanence, Derrida, Foucault, and Marx propose a messianic futural theology in which some infinitely remote event is supposed to guarantee meaning to the present, while simultaneously keeping the present infinitely open to the future. Thus, unawares, they reinstate the basic Lutheran/Pauline experience of an awaiting for the parousia. 57 The structure of double transcendence is thus a much more rigorous solution to the problem of a metaphysical transcendence than the messianic theologies that have been propounded in Western philosophy (see preceding note) as a way of overcoming metaphysics. The most embarrassing of these attempts is the ad hoc theology of John Caputo who in his The Tears and Prayers of Jacques Derrida (Bloomington, IN: Indiana UP, 1997) relies on a notion of messianic time as time that is utterly opposed to ordinary time to avoid ensnarement in metaphysics. Caputo writes: “Viens is rather a certain Ur-affirmation, older and lighter than any determinate word or deed that silently and invisibly tears open lived time and ordinary language, that renders them always already structurally open to what is coming, that prohibits (pas!) closure while soliciting transcendence (le pas). The viens is the order or disorder of messianic time, of venir and avenir, that disturbs the order of presence, that hollows it out, so that what is coming does not, never did, never can, correspond to presence and presence cannot close over.” Ibid., 86. But unseen by Caputo is the paradox that if messianic time is truly to be wholly other, then we could not know anything about it, not even the fact that it is linear. But if it is not linear, it cannot function as the locus of a messianic theology that seeks to preserve God without making him a transcendent, i.e., metaphysical being, which it does precisely by placing him in the infinite future. Thus there is at least one thing Caputo must know about this time that is allegedly tout autre: that it is linear. In contrast, the Mahābhārata’s solution is much more rigorous, because for it Indra’s svarga, like the Platonic heaven, is merely a metaphysical moment—one that is posited merely in order to be transcended. Indian and Greek philosophy thus already overcome metaphysics at their very inception, which makes all the books published on the subject in the last century seem like so much wasted ink. Plato, no less than the epic, is not susceptible to this criticism, because in the Republic’s myth of Er he shows there is something higher than heaven, namely the discarnate viewing of Er (see my “The Importance of Being Er,” Proceedings of the IX Symposium Platonicum; Plato’s Politeia, vol. 1, International Plato Society [2010]: 144-150). It is not Christianity’s Platonic inheritance that makes it untenable: Platonism without Christianity is a rigorous and sophisticated theology. The question for Christianity now becomes: is God merely transcendent or is his transcendence also transcended? 58 Renate Söhnen-Thieme, “Rise and Decline of the Indra Religion in the Veda,” in Inside the Texts, Beyond the Texts: New Approaches to the Study of the Vedas, ed. Michael Witzel (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1997), 235-243. 59 The epic, in one of its most well known passages, claims that whatever is elsewhere is contained here, but what is not here is found nowhere else (yad ihāsti tad anyatra yan nehāsti na tat kva cit, 1.56.33, 18.5.38.).

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uprooted, but merely brought into a relation with nivṛtti. Thus sacrificial evocations and offerings to Indra survive into Hindu ritual even in the present day. But classical Hinduism remains ontologically and theologically committed to double transcendence. This can be seen, for example, in the highly celebrated lifting of Mount Govardhana in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa, a story the epic knows of,60 as well in the Bhagavadgītā’s doctrine of the two domains of the perishable (kṣara) and the imperishable (akṣara) which are transcended by a third: the Uttama Puruṣa or Supreme Being.61

Second, this notion of double transcendence also lets us better understand the emphasis on one-pointedness, conceived of as an internalized sacrifice, over external ritual in later Hinduism. In the Garuḍa narrative, the sacrifice of the Vālakhilyas, performed without any attachment for the fruit of actions, trumps the sacrifice of Indra.62 This dispassion is also a feature of Garuḍa’s flight, one that is responsible for his attainment of the Supreme Being. In the Nārāyaṇīya as well, one-pointedness (ekāntabhāva) is praised above all other qualities. Only those possessing this exclusive devotion to Nārāyaṇa are said to attain the soteriological goal.63 In contrast, neither the

This claim necessitates that the epic present an account not only of “being” (as an Upaniṣad might), but also a full narrative account of “becoming,” an itihāsaṁ purātanam (1.54.23c) in fact. 60 See Sabhāparvan 2.38 for the story; when Bhīṣma recommends the offering of the unction waters to Kṛṣṇa Vāsudeva as the foremost of the princes assembled at Yudhiṣṭhira’s rājasūya, Śiśupāla challenges him on the grounds that Kṛṣṇa’s achievements do not merit such honor. Among the things he ridicules is Kṛṣṇa’s achievement in lifting up the mountain: “If he held up the mountain Govardhana for seven days, that, I think, is hardly a miracle, Bhīṣma; it is as big as an anthill!” (valmīkamātraḥ saptāhaṁ yady anena dhṛto ’calaḥ/ tadā govardhano bhīṣma na tac citraṁ mataṁ mama, 2.38.9). Śiśupāla’s error consists in focusing solely on the obvious historical-political epiphenomenon. In contrast, Bhīṣma knows Kṛṣṇa’s true nature. 61 Double transcendence survives into the later Purāṇas, where it is taken seriously. The Viṣṇu Pu. for example, knows of the story of a sage named Kaṇḍu, who first practices austerities seeking liberation, but falls prey to desire when Indra sends a beautiful apsarā to interrupt his tapas. After he realizes the failure of his austerities, Kaṇḍu turns to Viṣṇu. At this point the text invokes the concept of the Puruṣottama first attested to in the Bhagavadgītā (in the form uttama puruṣa in the verses cited above). Sage Parāśara (who is narrating the story to Maitreya) tells him that Kaṇḍu then uttered prayers that comprehended “the essence of divine truth [brahmapāramayaṁ]” and thereafter went “to the region of Viṣṇu [viṣṇorāyatanam] termed Puruṣottama.” When Maitreya asks to hear the prayers by means of which Kaṇḍu attained Vāsudeva, Soma recounts the entire prayer, whose first lines begin thus: pāraṃ paraṃ viṣṇurapārapāraḥ paraḥ parebhyaḥ pāmāratharūpī /sabrahpāraḥ parapārabhūtaḥ paraḥ parāṇāmapi pārapāraḥ (Vi. Pu. 1.15.55). 62 As Somapāvan, “Soma-drinker,” Indra is the preeminent recipient of sacrificial offerings of soma (see RV 1.104, 3.48, 8.4, 8.2). As Śakra, “mighty,” he is the preeminent emblem of the heights that can be attained by the sacrifice (see RV 4.18, 7.32, 6.30, 5.42, 1.100, 1.165, 7.21, 2.32, 1.101, 2.38, 10.89, 7.98, 3.46, 1.101, 5.30, 10.102, 3.34, 4.19, 3.46). But these epithets also underscore his dependency on others. Macdonell notes that the gods are said “to have increased his [i.e., Indra’s] vigour for the fray with Vṛtra (10, 113), or to have infused might or valour into him (1, 80; 6, 20; 10, 48.120), or to have placed the bolt in his hands (1, 20).... Even priests on earth sometimes associate themselves with Indra in his combats (5, 30; 8, 51; 10, 44). The worshipper (jaritā) is said to have placed the bolt in Indra’s hands (1, 63), and the sacrifice is spoken of as having assisted the bolt at the slaughter of the dragon (3, 32). Hymns, prayers, and worship, as well as Soma, are also often described as increasing (vṛdh) the vigour of Indra.” A.A. Macdonell, Vedic Mythology (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 2002 [reprint of 1st ed.; Strassburg: Trübner, 1897]), 60. In the epic as well, Indra’s power is associated with the continued performance of sacrifice. The austerities his foes (Vālakhilyas, Bali, etc.) on the other hand are portrayed as threatening to his sovereignty. 63 See 12.323.24c-25a (ekāntabhāvopagatās te bhaktāḥ puruṣottamam/ te sahasrārciṣaṁ devaṁ praviśanti sanātanam), 12.326.116c-117c (ekāntabhāvopagata ekānte susamāhitaḥ/ prāpya śvetaṁ mahādvīpaṁ bhūtvā

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sacrifice performed by Bṛhaspati nor the asceticism undertaken by Ekata, Dvita, and Trita on Śvetadvīpa are adequate for viewing the One. The Bhagavadgītā too recommends exclusive devotion as a means to salvation.64

Finally, the reciprocal exchange of boons between mortal and immortal in the Garuḍa narrative clarify that the relationship between God and his devotee in the Mahābhārata is never conceived of in impersonal terms. Although Sutton, following F. Hardy,65 has argued that there is a “distinction … between the philosophical bhakti of the Mahābhārata and the emotional expressions of love found in the Bhāgavata Purāṇa and the works of the alvars of South India,”66 a close and careful reading of the epic shows otherwise. Contra Sutton’s claim that the “idea of God’s love for man is not a prominent theme of epic theology or an aspect of the nature of God that is stressed,”67 there is unmistakable evidence for philanthropy—whether the love of God for man or of man for man—as a major concern of the epic. I will merely cite one example of each.

In the episode of the Burning of the Khāṇḍava Forest, towards the end of the Ādiparvan, Indra offers a boon to the pair Kṛṣṇa and Arjuna, who have just defeated him in laying the forest waste and offering it up to Agni in a great sacrifice. Arjuna chooses all manner of divine weapons, and Indra promises his son that at the right time the weapons and the secrets of their use shall become manifest to him. Then Kṛṣṇa asks for eternal friendship with Arjuna (prītiṁ pārthena śāśvatīm; 1.225.13a), a boon that, as we know, is to have even more momentous consequences for the outcome of the Kurukṣetra war than the gift of weapons.68 In fact, it is their joint nature as the two Kṛṣṇas (1.214.27, 32; 1.219.3)69 or as Nara and Nārāyaṇa70 that is the secret of their

candraprabho naraḥ // sa sahasrārciṣaṁ devaṁ praviśen nātra saṁśayaḥ), 12.332.18c (ekāntabhāvopagatā vāsudevaṁ viśanti te), and 12.337. 67c (ekāntabhāvopagatās te hariṁ praviśanti vai). 64 See, for example, Bhagavadgītā 8.14 (ananyacetāḥ), 9.13 (ananyamanaso), 13.8-12 (ananyayogena bhaktir), and 9.30 (ananyabhāk). Also see Bhagavadgītā 18.66 (mām ekaṁ śaraṇaṁ vraja). 65 Friedhelm Hardy, Viraha-Bhakti: The Early History of Kṛṣṇa Devotion in South India (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1983). 66 Nicholas Sutton, Religious Doctrines in the Mahābhārata (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 2000), 235. 67 Ibid. 68 That victory is present where Kṛṣṇa is is one of the epic poets’ favorite tropes. It occurs no less than eight times in the text, and a total of nineteen times if references to victory being where dharma is are included (with which or with whom Kṛṣṇa is explicitly equated in four of these). See 1.197.25c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tatas te syur yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 5.39.7c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 5.66.9c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 5.141.33c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 5.146.16c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ, (6.20.14c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 6.21.11c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 6.21.12c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 6.21.14c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 6.41.55a (yato dharmas tataḥ kṛṣṇo yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 6.61.16c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 6.62.34c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato dharmo yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 6.117.33c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 7.158.62a (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 9.61.30c (yato dharmas tataḥ kṛṣṇo yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato jayaḥ), 9.62.58c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 11.13.9c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 11.17.6c (yato dharmas tato jayaḥ), 13.153.9c (yataḥ kṛṣṇas tato dharmo yato dharmas tato jayaḥ). 69 See Hiltebeitel, “The Two Kṛṣṇas” for a full list of passages where the two Kṛṣṇas are invoked. Hiltebeitel notes that the Khāṇḍavadahana episode is the first time the epic uses the dual kṛṣnau revealing their joint nature as the “two Kṛṣṇas.” 70 Biardeau discusses the theological significance of what she calls this “hypostase intermédiare” of the God and of Nara as a “sort of double of the divinity” in her “Nara et Nārāyaṇa,” Wiener Zeitschrift für die Kunde Südasiens 35 (1991): 75–108. Also see her reflections on the relationship of Arjuna and Kṛṣṇa in “Études de mythologie hindoue IV: II. Bhakti et avatāra,” Bulletin de l’École Française de Extrême Orient 63 (1976): 111-263 and “Études de mythologie hindoue V: II. Bhakti et avatāra (suite),” Bulletin de l’École Française de Extrême Orient 65 (1978): 87-238.

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success in the war. Further, while there is an interpersonal aspect to this relationship, this form of love is ultimately subordinated to a higher form, which is pedagogic in nature. The Bhagavadgītā, which represents the blossoming of this pedagogy, thus reveals itself to be not a collection of philosophical treatises, but a personal instruction and experience bequeathed to the bhakta. In Gītā 18.64-65 Kṛṣṇa says: “Hear still further the greatest secret of all, my supreme message; “You are so much loved by me!” Therefore I shall speak for your well-being.” “Be mindful to me with love offered to me; sacrificing for me, act out of reverence for me. Truly you shall come to me—this I promise you for you are dearly beloved by me” (Schweig trans.).71 Neglecting this personal, dialogic, and pedagogic aspect of the text leads to the view that the Gītā is merely an assemblage of doctrines, while Mahābhārata theology is then held not to have a notion of a personal God.72

Let me turn to the Mahābhārata’s project as a form of philanthropy. I have already alluded above to Śuka’s mokṣa ascent, but there is a tragic aftermath to this ascent: this is the fate of Vyāsa, who cannot follow. Why does Vyāsa remain behind? I think the answer must be seen in terms of the epic’s own philosophy of karma yoga and Vyāsa’s self-confessed mission of making the four goals—dharma, artha, kāma, and mokṣa—accessible to all. And thus in spite of the grief of losing his only son, he remains. Crying at the end of the Mahābhārata with upraised arms, he praises the virtues of dharma and bemoans the misery people create for themselves when they refuse to follow this simple path.73

71 sarvaguhyatamaṁ bhūyaḥ śṛṇu me paramaṁ vacaḥ / iṣṭo ’si me dṛḍham iti tato vakṣyāmi te hitam // manmanā bhava madbhakto madyājī māṁ namaskuru / mām evaiṣyasi satyaṁ te pratijāne priyo ’si me, 18.64-65. 72 Paul Hacker, for example, decries Hindu thought for making no room for personhood and for having no intimation of the personal relationship of God to the faithful. Yet this amounts to a hopeless confusion of Christian ethics with Indian thought—a confusion where onticity becomes the predominant field of love. The egoistic and psychological aspects of love remain on a transactional level and are to be distinguished from the truest form of love, which is transcendent. This separation is a feature of Plato’s Phaedrus, where Lysias’ and Socrates’ speeches on transactional love (231a-234c and 237b-241d) are ultimately set aside as impious, and Socrates makes a new beginning, inspired ultimately by divine madness (244a-257b, see esp. 246a-249d). In fact love, eros, is now reinterpreted as that which gives wings, pteros (“τὸν δ᾽ ἤτοι θνητοὶ μὲν ἔρωτα καλοῦσι ποτηνόν, ἀθάνατοι δὲ Πτέρωτα, διὰ πτεροφύτορ᾽ ἀνάγκην, 252c). The replacement of Lysias’ horizontal, transactional model of love with a hierarchical, transcendent model has a predecessor in Socrates’ speech in the Symposium (201d- 212d): Diotima reinteprets desire as desire for immortality (207a-b) and Plato presents the journey of the soul in love as if ascending a ladder (later caller scala amoris). This journey begins with initiation and culminates in the end of all philosophy: the good itself, beauty itself, identical with the first beloved (prôton philon) mentioned in the Lysis (219d2-e4). Setting aside this issue one can clearly see that on an ontological plane, the Bhagavadgītā in particular and the Mahābhārata in general are preaching love, albeit not as the relation of two egos to each other. On Hacker’s evangelical leanings, see Joydeep Bagchee, “The Invention of Difference and the Aussault upon Ecumenism: Paul Hacker becomes a Catholic,” paper presented at the 3rd Rethinking Religion in India conference, Pardubice, October 2011. 73 ūrdhvabāhur viraumy eṣa na ca kaś cic chṛṇoti me / dharmād arthaś ca kāmaś ca sa kimarthaṁ na sevyate // na jātu kāmān na bhayān na lobhād; dharmaṁ tyajej jīvitasyāpi hetoḥ / nityo dharmaḥ sukhaduḥkhe tv anitye; jīvo nityo hetur asya tv anityaḥ, 18.5.49-50.

20

I . Conclusion:

This paper examined the narrative of Garuḍa from the Mahābhārata in light of its theological meanings. Its central claim was that the story of this bird, recounted as one of the opening narratives of the Mahābhārata, sets up the structure and dynamics of the epic’s soteriological program. The narrative portrays the journey of the soul to God as a flight across and beyond the phenomenal realm conceived of here as an ocean filled with deadly monsters.74 The soul is able to complete this journey only if it possesses strength, keenness, and constancy in its striving towards God. The ascent to God implies a rejection of all other goals, however lofty they might be. Thus Garuḍa in his ascent rejected the immortality of Indra and other finite deities by not consuming the elixir of the gods. This act pleased the Supreme Being Viṣṇu, who descended to offer the heroic bird a boon.75 Garuḍa’s choice to be stationed above Viṣṇu illustrates the coeval nature of soul with God, while his acceptance of Viṣṇu’s request illustrates that the ascensio ad deum need not necessarily be thought of as culminating in an existence outside of or beyond embodiment. Rather, this acceptance signifies that the contemplative soul can be both with God and above his incarnated being, and yet subordinate to him. The proper locus of God thus turn out to be in the soul that carries his form, just as the proper locus of salvation turns out to be the pure soul. Garuḍa thus becomes the paradigm of the soul of a bhakta or devotee. The epic can be seen as recommending a very specific form of onto-theologic praxis—this is the ascent of the philosophically purified soul even, and especially, while embodied. It is this orientation, simultaneously cognitive and existential, oriented towards a theology grounded in ontology, that the epic terms “bhakti.”

74 See 1.19.3-17; the ocean is the abode of Varuṇa (ālayaṁ varuṇasya, 1.19.5a) as also the bed on which Viṣṇu sleeps in his yogic sleep at the beginning of the eon (adhyātmayoganidrāṁ ca padmanābhasya sevataḥ / yugādikālaśayanaṁ viṣṇor amitatejasaḥ, 1.19.13). After gazing upon the ocean, Vinatā and Kadrū cross it to look upon the horse Uccaiḥśravas and to settle their wager; Garuḍa is said to also fly across an ocean as soon as he is born and to join his mother on the other side (mātur antikam āgacchat paraṁ tīraṁ mahodadheḥ, 1.21.1c); thus it must be the same ocean. 75 We miss the point if we see the Mahābhārata as a theistic sectarian text, as Nicholas Sutton does. “In the epic as a whole it is correct to assert that the text does not recognise Viṣṇu as having either a consort or a carrier.” Nicholas Sutton, Religious Doctrines in the Mahābhārata (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 2000), 150. This is one example of how text-historical criticism in the hands of scholars untrained in philosophy raises and answers questions that are completely beside the point of the text in question. Although Sutton’s work is admirable in that he takes the conclusions of the text-historical method with a grain of salt, his emancipation from this flawed method is not complete. In the case of Mahābhārata studies, it is safe to say that with the exception of the Critical Edition’s contributions the rest of text-historical method and the scholarly output based on it are too erroneous to be even considered. Theologically, Garuḍa as playing a role in salvation is underscored in the Mahābhārata.

21

Appendix 1 Textual criticism of Mahābhārata 1.14-30

Ascensio ad Deum: Garuḍa and Onto-Theo-logic Praxis in the Mahābhārata 2012 Annual Meeting of the American Academy of Religions

Vishwa Adluri Hunter College, NY vadluri@hunter.cuny.edu In the Critical Edition, the Garuḍa narrative occurs from 1.14-30, with excurses at 1.15-17 (story of the Churning of the Ocean) and at 1.18-19 (story of Vinatā and Kadrū’s wager). Ś1, otherwise preferred by Sukthankar for its antiquity and the quality of its readings, was not available for the portion from 1.14.1 to 1.26.9. The manuscripts used for this section were: K0-4, Ñ1-3, V1, B1-5, Da, Dn and D1-7 (Northern recension manuscripts) and T1.2, G1-6, and M1-5 (Southern recension manuscripts). From 1.26.10 to 1.43.10, the Śāradā codex was added (with no other changes). Ś1 however is fragmentary, with a continuous text first becoming available from 1.82 onward. Since Sukthankar regards K1 to be a trustworthy copy of a Śāradā exemplar, 76 his reconstruction here as elsewhere relies on it as offering a nearly complete text of the Ādiparvan that is closely affiliated to the Śāradā text.

Of the manuscripts collated for this portion of the CE, all include the Garuḍa narrative. The manuscripts that do include a colophon uniformly refer to the sub-parvan as āstīkaparvan (v.l. āstika, astīka), with some manuscripts additionally adding sauparṇaparvan. The adhyāya names follow a clearly defined pattern, referring to the central theme of the chapter. Even where manuscripts differ on the name, this is not an indication of uncertainty regarding the chapter, since either of the alternate names makes sense in context.77

The text is quite secure. Only a handful of words or phrases in each chapter is marked as uncertain by the editor. Unusually, of the two recensions, it is the Northern recension that features a larger number of interpolations, contrary to Sukthankar’s observations about the tendency towards inflation and elaboration characteristic of the Southern recension.78 In fact, many of the interpolations listed in the appendix below as common to the Northern and Southern recensions are clearly northern in origin, having then crossed over into the TG manuscripts (see, for example, 294*, 297*, 304*, 308*).79 Occasionally, however, it is T or G that appear to be the source of the interpolation, with the interpolation thence spreading into the D and T/G manuscripts as the case may be. The pattern of contamination of the D manuscripts, which sometimes go with the N manuscripts and sometimes with the S, confirms Sukthankar’s opinion that Devanāgarī was the main medium of contamination in India. Interestingly,

76 V.S. Sukthankar, “Prolegomena,” in V.S. Sukthankar, ed., The Ādiparvan for the First Time Critically Edited (Pune: Bhandarkar Oriental Research Institute, 1933), xvii-l. 77 For a full list of sub-parvan and adhyāya names and the distribution of insertions, see below. 78 Ibid., xlvii-xlviii. 79 Since a D manuscript can, in principle, be from any part of India, many of the interpolations listed as common to both may in fact be southern in origin. I have, however, chosen to treat the D manuscripts as northern manuscripts; thus, when an interpolation is found in T or G and at least one D manuscript, I have listed it as common to both recensions.

22

M1 is often free of interpolations found in the Southern recension as a whole (see, for example, 263*, App. I, 9, 267*, 284*), confirming its native character. K1 is clearly marked as the best manuscript.

On the whole, the northern insertions are much shorter, being more in the nature of clarificatory remarks, while the southern insertions, although fewer in number, are usually longer and supply further narrative elements (genealogies, names, descriptions, etc.). Insertions in the southern manuscripts also tend to be more widespread, appearing either in the Southern recension as a whole or in all the manuscripts of one script. This suggests either that the insertion took place early on, before the divergence of the manuscripts into sub-recensions or that there was greater comparison and an attempt at standardization of the southern exemplars.

With the excision of these interpolations, whose late character can be quite easily detected, the CE is able to recover with a great deal of confidence the text of the Garuḍa narrative as it must have existed in the source of all these manuscripts. If, as T.P. Mahadevan has suggested, this source can be dated back to 2nd century BCE based on the pattern of Brahmin migrations to the peninsula and based on what we know of the Mahābhārata’s textual history, then we have every reason for thinking that the Garuḍa narrative was a feature of the earliest epic.80 There is no text critical justification for thinking that the Ādiparvan was a later addition to the epic than the war books, i.e., the Bhīṣma- , Droṇa-, Karṇa-, and Śalyaparvans. Even though this claim has been advanced frequently,81 all such claims rest on preconceptions of what the original epic must have been like—an approach that is not only subjective, but also suffers from the defect of petition principii.82

Adhyāya Northern Rec. Southern Rec. Sub-parvan

name Adhyāya name

1.14 Vinatā’s curse/birth of Aruṇa

257* D5 ins. after 9, K0.2.4 after 11

Al

l man

uscr

ipts

(K1

om.)

āstīk

a (v

.l.

āstik

a, a

stīk

a)83

; to

it B5

G1

M1

add

saup

arṇa

K (K

1 om

.) D2

.5 M

1 ga

ruḍo

patti

ḥ; Ñ

1.2

V1

vina

tāśā

paḥ;

G1

aruṇ

otpa

ttiḥ

258* N (except Ñ1.3) ins.after 9 (D5 after 257*)

80 Along with Hiltebeitel (Alf Hiltebeitel, Rethinking the Mahābhārata: A Reader’s Guide to the Education of the Dharma King [Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2001]), I disagree with those who argue we can postulate an earlier text behind this. Such a possibility is not only ruled out by what we know of the text in its Naimiṣa redaction, but also nonsensical from a text critical point of view. A number of Mahābhārata scholars regrettably seem to be in need of continual reminding of Marichal’s adage, whereby “Our only source are the manuscripts themselves, then, in the final analysis, these stemma. We therefore do not have the right to repudiate their evidence on the pretext that it appears absurd to us.” 81 For examples, see J.A.B. van Buitenen’s introduction to his translation of the Ādiparvan (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1973), J.L. Brockington’s The Sanskrit Epics (Leiden: E.J. Brill, 1998), and Thomas Oberlies’ article “(Un)ordnung im Mahābhārata: Rahmenerzählungen, Gesprächsebenen und Inhaltsangaben,” Studien zur Indologie und Iranistik 25 (2008): 73-102. 82 For criticisms of the early Orientalist preoccupation with the original epic as an early record of a historical conflict, see Vishwa Adluri, “The Critical Edition and its Critics: A Retrospective of Mahābhārata Scholarship,” Journal of Vaishnava Studies 19.2 (2011): 1-21. 83 This is true of all the following chapters; hereafter I will not repeat the note with regard to the variae lectiones.

23

259* After 21, K2-4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D5) ins.

260* G (except G3.6) ins. after 21; D6 (om. lines 4, 5) after 259*

1.15 Uccaiḥśravas/ Churning of the Ocean

261* After 4ab, T1G (except G3.6) ins.

K0.3

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.5

Dn1

D6.7

T G

1-4.

6 M

ās

tīka

(v.l.

āst

ika,

as

tīka)

; to

it B5

G1.

2 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa

K0.2

-4 Ñ

V1B

D T

2 G1

-3 a

mṛt

amat

hana

ṁ

262* After sautir*, K4 ins.

1.16 Churning of the Ocean

263* After 6ab, Ñ2 V1 Dn D1.2.4 (marg.) S (except M1) ins.

K0.2

-4 Ñ

1.2

V1

B1.3

.5 D

5 T1

G1-

4.6

M ā

stīk

a; to

it B

5 G2

add

saup

arṇa

K0.2

-4 a

mṛt

otpa

ttiḥ;

K1

Ñ1.

3 V

1 B1

.2.4

.5 D

G2.

3 am

ṛtam

atha

naṁ

; Ñ2

sam

udra

mat

hane

am

ṛtot

patti

ḥ

264* After 7c, K3 ins.

265* After 13, D7 T G M5 ins. After 15, S (except M1) ins. a

passage given in App. I (No. 9) After 27, K4 ins. a passage of 14 lines given in App. I (No. 10)

266* After 29, D2.4 (marg.).5 ins.

267* After 29, S (except G6 M1) ins.

268* After 32, D4 (marg.).6 S ins. 269* D6 T2 G1.6 ins. after 35; D4 (marg.) G2.4.5 after 36ab; T1, after 36 270* After 36ab, D2.5 ins.

270* After 36ab, D2.5 ins.

271* D4 (marg.) G2 ins. after 269*; T2 (om. line 1) ins. after 36ab 272*

G4.5 ins. after 269*; G6, after line 1 of 271*

273* T2 G1-3 ins. after 271*; G4.5, after 272*

After 36, K4 ins. a passage of four lines given in App. I (No. 11)

274* V1 Da1 Dn D1.3.4.6 (lines 1, 2) ins. after 38; K0.3.4 (om. lines 3-7) Da2 (om. 38-9) D6 (lines 3-7).7 (om. lines 1, 2), after 37; D2 (om. lines 1, 2), after 35

275* After line 2, K4 ins. with lines 3-7 cf passage No. 9 in App. I

276* After line 5, Dn ins.

277* After line 7, V1 Dn D1.3.4 ins.

278*

24

After 40, D4 (marg.) T G (except G2.3) ins. 1.17 Churning of the Ocean/ Conflict between gods and asuras

279* D4 (marg.) T2 G (except G3) ins. after 3

K0.2

-4 V

1 B1

.5 D

2.6.

7 T

G2-4

.6 ā

stīk

a; to

it B

5 ad

ds sa

upar

ṇa.

K0.2

-4 Ñ

3 B4

Dn1

.n3

D1.2

M1

amṛt

amat

hana

ṁ sa

māp

taṁ

; K1

B1-3

.5 D

a Dn

2 D3

05 G

1-4

amṛt

amat

hana

ṁ; Ñ

1.2

V1

amṛt

amat

hana

sam

āptiḥ

; T2

amṛt

amat

hane

de

vāsu

rayu

ddha

ṁ; G

1.3

devā

sura

yudd

he

deva

vija

yaḥ

280* G (except G3.6) ins. after 4ab; D4, marg. after 279* 281* K2-4 Ñ1.2 V1 B Da Dn D1-3.5.7 subst. for 7cd; K0 ins. after 7ab; D4 (marg.).6 ins. after 7cd

282* K0.2-4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D cont. 283* D6.7 ins. after line 1 of 282*; D4, marg. after 10ab

284* T2 G6 ins. after 14; M (except M1), after 15ab

1.18 Kadrū and Vinatā’s wager/ curse of the Snakes

285* K0.3.4 V1 (marg.) Da1 Dn D1 (om. line 7).2.5.6 (om. line 10) ins. after 11cd; D3 (om. line 10).4.7 (om. lines 1, 2, 10), after 11ab

K0.2

-3 Ñ

V1

B1m

.3.5

D3-

7 T

G1-4

.6 M

āst

īka;

to it

Ñ

V1

B1 (m

arg.

).3.5

add

sa

upar

ṇa. B

2.4

Da D

n (o

m.

the

sub-

parv

an n

ame)

m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

K0.4

D2.

5 nā

gaśā

paḥ;

K2

śāpa

ḥ; K

3 sa

rpaś

āpap

radā

naḥ;

Ñ1.

2 sa

rpaś

āpaḥ

; G1

kadr

ūvac

anaṁ

286* K4 D4 (marg.).6 S (except M1) ins. after (G1 before) 11ef

1.19 Kadrū and Vinatā cross the great ocean

287* After 2ab, K4 D4 (both marg.) ins.

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

D3.

4.6.

7 G1

.2 M

āst

īka;

to it

, Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

M2-

5 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa; K

0-2.

4 Ñ

3 B2

.4

Da D

n D1

(om

. the

sub-

parv

an n

ame)

men

tion

only

saup

arṇa

K3

sam

udra

varṇ

anaḥ

; Ñ

1.2

V1

G1

sam

udra

darś

anaṁ

; D2

sam

udra

288* K V1 (marg.) Dn D1-6 T G (except G6) ins. after 3ab; Ñ3 subst. for 3ab

289* After 4ab, Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D3-5.7) T2 ins.

290* After 13, N (except K1 Ñ3) G2 ins.

291* After 15, K4 B (except B4) D (except D2-7) ins.

25

After adhy. 19, Ñ1.2 V1 B D ins. an additional adhy. given in App. I (No. 12); in Dn D1-4 this interpolated adhy. is preceded by a passage of 6 lines given in the same App. (No. 13), a passage which some other manuscripts ins. at the beginning of the foll. adhy.

1.20 Kadrū enslaves Vinatā/ birth of Garuḍa

292* (after 1, K0.2 (both om. line 2).4 Ñ V1 B D (except D5) ins.

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

D3.

4.6.

7 T1

G1.

2.4

M ā

stīk

a; to

it Ñ

1.2

V1

B1.3

.5 a

dd sa

upar

ṇa. K

Ñ3

D2.4

Da

Dn D

2 G3

(om

. the

sub-

parv

an n

ame)

men

tion

only

saup

arṇa

Dn1.

n2 st

utiḥ

; D1.

6.7

supa

rṇas

tutiḥ

; G1

garu

ḍotp

attiḥ

293* After 2ab, K (except K1) Da1 D2 ins.

294* K0.2.4 Ñ V1 B D (except D2) ins. after 4; G (except G3.6), irrelevantly, before 1 (cf. v.l. 1) 295* After 5ab, K0.2.4 Ñ V1 B D (except D2.5) ins.

296* After 5, N (except K1 D5) ins.

297* K4 Ñ V1 B Da Dn D1.3.4.6.7 T1 G1.2 ins. after 8; D2, after line 21 of 298* below 298* K4 Da Dn D1.3.4.6 T1 G1.2 cont.; K3 D2 G4.5 ins. after 8 299* After 10, K4 (marg.) Dn D4 (marg.) S ins. 300* After mahaujasaṁ, Dn D1 T1 ins. 301* After 14, K2 (marg.).3.4 Ñ V1 B D T1 G (except G3.6) ins. 302* After 1ab, Dn D1 T1 ins. After this adhy., K4 (marg.) Ñ V1 B D (except D5; D2 on a suppl. fol.) T1 G (except G3.6) ins. an adhy. given in App. I (No. 14)

1.21 Garuḍa carries Snakes into the scorching sun; Kadrū praises Indra

After 1ab, G3.6 ins. line 5 of the interpolated adhy. mentioned above (App I, No. 14)

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

Dn

1 G3

.6 M

1 ās

tīka;

to it

Ñ

V1

B3.5

Dn1

G3

add

sa

upar

ṇa; K

B2

.4 D

a Dn

2 D1

.2.4

.5 (o

m.

the

sub-

parv

an

nam

e)

men

tion

only

sa

upar

ṇa

K0.2

-4 D

2.5

śakr

astv

anaḥ

; G3

indr

astu

tiḥ

1.22 Indra sends rain

304* After 4c, N (except K1; K2 marg.) T1 ins.

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

G2-

6 M

2-5

āstīk

a; to

it

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

G2.

3 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa;

K0.2

.4 Ñ

3 B2

.4 D

(o

m. t

he

sub-

parv

an

nam

e)

men

tion

only

sa

upar

ṇa

305* After 5, K3.4 Ñ (Ñ3 om. line 2) V1 B D T1 ins.

1.23 Visit to Ramaṇīyaka Island/ Garuḍa learns of Snakes’ trickery

306* After sūta u (resp. its v.l.), Ñ V1 B D (except D5) T1 ins.

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

D 3

(āst

īka)

; to

it th

e sa

me

man

uscr

ipts

ex

cept

D3

add

saup

arṇa

; K

B2.4

Da

Dn1.

n3 D

1.2.

4-7

(om

. su

b-pa

rvan

nam

e) m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

307* After 1ab, K3 Ñ V1 B D (for Da see below) T1 G (except G3.6) M5 (om. line 3) ins. [line 2. Da reads this line after 2ab] 308* K4 Ñ1.2 V1 B1-4 D (except D5) T1. ins. after 4; B5 after 3 309* After 5cd, K0.2.4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D2.5) T1 ins. 310*

26

After 8, K4 ins. 311* After 8, B4 ins.

1.24 Garuḍa flies off to fetch amṛta/ he eats the Niṣādas

312* After 2ab, D4 G2.4.5 ins.

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.5 D

3 T1

G M

āst

īka;

to it

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.5 G

3 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa; K

Ñ3

B2-4

Da

Dn D

1.2.

4-7

(om

. the

su

b-pa

rvan

nam

e) m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

313* Ñ1.2 V1 B Da Dn D1.3.4.6.7 ins. after 4ab; K3 (om. lines 5, 6), after 4

314* Ñ2 ins. before the first line; B3, after the last line

315* After the last line, D3 ins.

316* Ñ2 B5 Da Dn D1.3.4.6.7 ins. after garuḍa uvācaḥ; K3 Ñ1 V1 B1-4 D2, after 5; D5 (om. line 2), after the repetition of 4cd

317* Ñ1 V1 B Da D7 ins. before 7ab; Ñ2 Da D1.3.4.6 after (the first occurrence of) 7ab

318* After 7, Ñ3 ins.

319* Ñ1.2 V1 B (except B1.2) D (except Da D2.5) ins. after 7; Ñ3, after 318*

320* After 8, G (except G3.6) ins.

321* After 9ab, Ñ V1 B D (except D2.5) T1 ins.

322* After 9ab, G2.4.5 ins.

323* After 12ab, K0 ins.

1.25 Garuḍa spares the Brahmin/ Kaśyapa tells him of Vibhāvasu and Supratīka

324* After 7ab, K0 (om. line 3).3.4 (om. line 3) Ñ V1 B D (except D5) T1 ins.

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

D3

S (e

xcep

t T2)

āst

īka;

to it

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

D3

add

saup

arṇa

; K B

2 Da

Dn

D1.2

.4-7

(om

. the

sub-

parv

an

nam

e) m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

K (e

xcep

t K1)

men

tion

kaśy

apav

ākya

ṁ; G

1 am

ṛtāp

ahar

aṇaṁ

; G3

bhak

ṣyal

ābha

ḥ

325* Before line 1, K0.3.4 Da D2 ins.

326* After 7ab, G (except G3.6) ins.

327* K0.3.4 Ñ V1 B D (except D5) T1 ins. after 324*; G2.4.5 after 326* 328* After 9, Ñ V1 B5 D (except Da D2.5) T1 ins. 329* After kaśyapa u. (resp. its v.l.), K3.4 (om. lines 2-4) Ñ V1 B D (except D5) T1 G (except G3.6) ins. 330*

After line 4, G (except G3.6) ins. 331* M (except M1) subst. for 12cd; D3.4 (marg).6 T1 G4.5 ins. after 12ab 332* D3.4 (marg.).6 T2 G4-6 M (except M1) ins. after 15 ab; G1.2 after 14 333* After 15, D2.6 T2 G6 ins.

27

334* Ñ1.2 Dn ins. after 25; V1, after 18ab; D3.6.7, after 18cd

After 334*, V1 D3.6.7 ins. pramatīruvāca (!)

335* K2.4 (both om. lines 5-9) Ñ B Da Dn D1.2.4 T1 G (except G3.6) ins. after sūta u. (resp. its v.l.); V1 D3.6.7, after pramatīruvāca 336* V1 (om. line 2) B2 (marg.).3.4 (marg.) D3.6.7 ins. after 335*

337* After 30, D3 G1.2 (om. line 4).4.5 ins.

1.26 Kaśyapa addresses the Vālakhilyas/ Garuḍa eats the tortoise and elephant

*338 K3 Ñ V1 B Da Dn D1-4.6.7 T1 ins. after 2; K0.1.2 (marg.).4 D5, after 3

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

S ā

stīk

a; to

it Ñ

V1

B1.3

.5 G

2.3

add

saup

arṇa

and

G1

som

ahar

aṇa;

K B

2.4

D (o

m. t

he su

b-pa

rvan

nam

e) m

entio

n on

ly

saup

arṇa

K (e

xcep

t K1)

D2.

5 ut

pāta

darś

anaṁ

; G1.

3 de

vasa

nnāh

aḥ

339* K0.1.2 (marg.).4 Ñ2 Dn D1.3-7 ins. after 338*

340* After 2, G (except G3.6) M ins. 341* K3 (om. line 2) Ñ1 B Da D2 (om. line 2) T1 ins after 338*; K0-2.4 Ñ2 Dn D1.3-7, after 339* 342* After 2, T2 G6 ins.

343* After 3cd, K3 Ñ V1 B D (except D5) T1 G (except G3.6) ins. 344* After 26, K3.4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D5) T1 ins. 345*

After 39a, G (except G3.6) ins. 346* After 41, Ñ V1 B D (except D2) T1 ins. 347* After 43ab, Ñ3 (partly illeg.) B3 Da ins.

1.27 Vālakhilyas’ curse of Indra

348* After 16, D3 G (except G3.6) ins.

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

D3

S (e

xcep

t T1)

ās

tīka;

to it

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

D3

G2.3

add

saup

arṇa

; K (e

xcep

t K0

) B2.

4 Da

Dn

D1.2

.4-7

(om

. th

e su

b-pa

rvan

nam

e)

men

tion

only

saup

arṇa

K0.2

.4 D

2 br

āhm

aṇam

āhāt

mya

ṁ; K

3 G3

ga

ruḍo

tpat

tiḥ; D

5 br

āhm

aṇav

acan

aṁ

1.28 Garuḍa’s war on the gods

*349 K (K2 marg.) V1 D2.4 ins. after 18ab; Da, after 18

Ñ V

1 B1

.3.5

S (e

xcep

t T2)

āst

īka;

to

it Ñ

V1

B1.3

.5 G

2 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa; Ś

1 K

B2.4

D (D

n1 o

m.)

(om

. the

sub-

parv

an n

ame)

m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

K0.2

.4 D

2.5

deva

rāja

parā

jaya

ḥ (K

2 om

. rāj

a; D

5 om

. par

ā); K

3 vi

budh

apar

ājay

aḥ; G

1 so

mar

akṣa

nirā

saḥ;

M1.

3.5

vain

etey

ayud

dhaṁ

*350 After 18cd, Ñ3 ins.

351* After 23, G (except G3.6) ins.

352* After 24b, D5 ins.

28

1.29 Theft of soma/ encounter with Viṣṇu

353* After 7, D3 G (except G3.6) ins.

K0.4

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B1

.3.5

S (e

xcep

t T2)

āst

īka;

to it

K0.

4 Ñ

1.2

V1

B1.3

.5 G

3 M

3 ad

d sa

upar

ṇa a

nd G

1 so

mah

araṇ

a; Ś

1 K1

.2 Ñ

3 B2

.4 D

a Dn

2 D1

.3-7

(om

. the

sub-

parv

an n

ame)

men

tion

only

saup

arṇa

G1 in

drav

ijaya

ḥ

354* After 14, K3.4 Ñ V1 B D T1 ins.

355* K3.4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D T1 ins. after 16; G (except G3.6); all om. line 1), after 357* below

356* After 16 S (except T1) ins.

357* G (except G3.6) cont.

358* After 20ab, K0.4 ins.

359* After 20, K0.2.3 (all om. line 2) Ñ1.2 V1 B D T1 ins.

360* After 20, T2 G M (except M1.5) ins.

361* After 21, T2 G (except G3.6) ins.

1.30 Alliance between Indra and Garuḍa/ Indra takes back the soma

362* G (except G6) ins. before garuḍa u.; M2-4, before 1

Ñ V

1 B1

-3.5

Dn

D1 S

āst

īka;

to it

Ñ1.

2 V

1 B5

G1.

3-5

add

saup

arṇa

; B1-

4 Da

D5

(om

. the

su

b-pa

rvan

nam

e) m

entio

n on

ly sa

upar

ṇa

K2 su

parṇ

acar

itaṁ

; B4

Da a

mṛt

āhar

aṇaṁ

; G1

dāsy

aniṣk

raya

ḥ; M

1.3.

5 vi

natā

dāsy

avim

ocan

aṁ

363* After 2ab, G (except G3.6) ins.

364* After 2c, G (except G3.6) ins.

365* After 5, K0.4 ins.

366* After 6, K2 Ñ V1 B D T1 ins.

367* Ś1 K0 (om. lines 1, 2).1.2 (om. line 3).3 (om. lines 1, 2) Ñ2 V1 D (except Da) T1 ins. after 13ab; Ñ1, after 13

368* After 14ab, G (except G3.6) ins.

369* After 15, Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D2) T1 ins.

370* After 18, K2.4 Ñ1.2 V1 B D (except D2) ins.

371* G1.4.5 ins after 18; G2, after 368*

372* After 20, K2.4 Ñ V1 B D ins.

373* After 20, G (except G3.6)

ins.

29

Appendix 2

1. The architecture of the epic, showing the division of the text into triads by the Ādiparvan, Bhagavadgītā, and the Nārāyaṇīya.

2. The pattern of twofold ascent in the Vasu narratives.

30

3. The epic as a Vasu-text.