Part IV Jaina Authoritative Figures
12. ‘No one gives like the guru’: Devotion to the True Guru in Digambara Hindi Literature
Let me begin with a pada, a song:*
No one gives like the guru. The light of the sun is never destroyed, Only covered by darkness. |
Desiring nothing for himself he rains on everyone like a cloud. He saves those souls burning in hellish and animal births, he gives them heaven, he gives them liberation and happiness. |
No one gives like the guru. |
He shines like a lamp in the temple of the three worlds. It is dark in the shadows but his light is pure inside and out. |
No one gives like the guru. |
The true guru is a ship to cross over himself and to take others across. People fall and sink in the world of family. Dyānat says, day and night keep the lotus feet of the guru in your stainless mind. |
guru samāna dātā nahiṁ koī bhānu prakāśa na nāśata jāko so andhiyārā ḍārai khoī |
megha samāna sabanapai barasai kachu icchā jāke nahiṁ hoī naraka paśūgati āgamāṁhitaiṁ suraga mukata sukha thāpai soī (1) |
tīna loka mandirameṁ jānau dīpaka sama parakāśaka loī dīpatalai andhiyāra bharyo hai antara bahira vimala hai joī (2) |
tārana tarana jihāja suguru haiṁ saba kuṭumba ḍobai jagatoī dyānata niśidina niramala manameṁ rākho gurupada paṅkaja doī (3). (DBhS 278, p. 320; JPS gurustuti 18, pp. 158–159)1 |
There is nothing that immediately would inform the casual listener that this song was composed by a Digambara Jain layman. The poet’s name, Dyānat or Dyānatrāy, is not an obviously Jain name. The reference to souls burning in hellish and animal births (naraka and paśū gati) comes directly from basic Jain cosmology, but is not all that foreign to other South Asian cosmologies. In the song’s praise of the salvific power of the true guru as a ship to cross over the sea of suffering and rebirth, and the need to keep the lotus feet of the guru in the devotee’s mind, we hear expressions common in many early modern songs from North India. In point of fact, this is one of the most beloved of the padas of Dyānatrāy, a Jain layman who lived in Agra from 1676 to 1726 CE and composed hundreds of Brajbhāṣā padas on a wide range of themes.
One of the primary tasks of a comparative scholar of the histories of the literatures of South Asia is to pay close attention to the continuities and discontinuities in themes, genres, and other features of literary cultures as they cross the ‘open boundaries’ between one community, region, or period and another. As I have argued elsewhere,2 while the lines of influence may run more strongly in one direction, our task is not simply a matter of tracing patterns of borrowing or influence. We need also to see how a feature finds a home in the new setting, both by building upon older elements of the host tradition, and by introducing new elements. In this chapter, I conduct such a preliminary analysis, looking at the theme of the guru as found in some of the many vernacular padas composed by lay Digambara poets in North India in the seventeenth through early twentieth centuries.
The prominent place of the guru in both the Sant and bhakti literatures of early modern North India is so well known that it needs no extensive introduction. On the one hand, the guru is the heavy, learned human teacher, to whom the student goes for instruction in all manner of subjects. Given the authoritative knowledge that the guru embodies, the disciple should treat the hierarchically superior guru as if the guru is divine. In most Hindu traditions, the ‘as if’ disappears, and the guru is understood in fact to be god. What this means, of course, differs significantly from one religious tradition to another. In some cases, the guru is the full embodiment and presence of god. In others, the guru is divine in comparison to the disciple, but in turn is himself a mere devotee of the supreme god. The guru imparts divine wisdom, which the disciple should strive to follow. The guru is also the object of devotion, whose mere presence can impart transformative and even salvific blessings upon the devotee. Daniel Gold in his two classic studies has provided an excellent typological analysis of the many modalities of the guru in the North Indian Sant traditions in particular, but also South Asian yoga-oriented traditions more broadly.3 Other scholars, such as Vasudha Dalmia for the Puṣṭimārg, and Raymond Williams and Hanna Kim for the Svāminārāyaṇ sampradāya, have extended our understanding to more theistically oriented bhakti traditions.4 None of these studies, however, brings in Jain materials.
The true guru in classical Digambara thought
To the extent that we can define the Jains as the religious community that follows the example and teachings of the enlightened teachers known as the Jinas, teachings that are subsequently embodied (albeit imperfectly) in the living mendicants, we can say that Jainism has always been a guru tradition, and further that the śramaṇa strand of Ancient India represents the earliest examples of guru religion in South Asia. Defining (and disagreeing about) who the true guru is, therefore, has long been central to Jain thought and practice. A full investigation of the many ways the early Jains articulated who the true guru is would require a much fuller study, but for the purposes of my discussion in this essay I simply point out a few of the more prominent ones.
For a millennium and a half, one of the most widespread Jain recitations, found in all the Jain traditions, has been the pañcaparameṣṭhī namaskāra (obeisance to the five supreme lords) or namaskāra maṅgala (the auspicious obeisance). Although there are slight differences in orthography, depending on whether the recitation is in Ardha-Magadhi or Sauraseni Prakrit, the obeisance is as follows:
I bow to the arhats [Jinas, enlightened teachers] I bow to the siddhas [liberated souls] I bow to the ācāryas [mendicant leaders] I bow to the upādhyāyas [mendicant preceptors] I bow to all sadhus [mendicants] in the world |
ṇamo arihantāṇaṃ ṇamo siddhāṇaṃ ṇamo āyariyāṇaṃ ṇamo uvajjhāyāṇaṃ ṇamo loe savvasāhūṇaṃ 5 |
The namaskāra maṅgala does not specifically say that any of the five beings worthy of obeisance are gurus, but this understanding of them is found in other early Digambara texts. These are the two sets of liturgical recitations known as bhakti (Prakrit bhatti).6 They exist in both Prakrit and Sanskrit forms, although the two are in no way translations of each other.
The bhakti involve obeisance to the same five authorities as does the namaskāra maṅgala, except that here they are called the pañca guru or pañca mahāguru—the five gurus, or five great gurus. These texts, therefore, allow us to identify an early Jain understanding of the guru. The supreme Jain guru is the Jina, who teaches the path to liberation, and also the siddha, who resides in liberation. Next in the Jain hierarchy are the three living forms of the true guru, the mendicants with whom a Jain layman might interact on a regular basis.
Two visions of the Jain true guru
The two understandings of the guru—as liberated Jina and as living Jain mendicant—are found in the poems of a number of Digambara Jain poets in North India from the early modern period. Dyānatrāy wrote padas that echoed the Sant language in his praise of the true guru, and also wrote padas that clearly indicated that the real true guru was the Jina.7A generation after Dyānatrāy was Bhūdhardās (also Bhūdhar), the last of the great Digambara poets who lived in Agra.8 His dated texts fall between 1724 CE (1781 VS) and 1749 CE (1806 VS). He wrote a Jain Purana, a text on Jain doctrines, and translated several stotra from Sanskrit into Brajbhāṣā. He also was the author of a number of independent padas. He was especially fond of composing vinatī, of which he wrote at least one dozen.9 These are devotional texts slightly longer than most padas, in which the poet expresses his total dependence upon the Jina or a living guru, and thus addresses a petition (vinatī, araj or arz, ardās) that the recipient of his devotion shed saving grace upon the singer.
In a number of songs, Bhūdhardās praised the Jina as the guru par excellence. He began his Nemināth Vinatī, addressed to the twenty-second Jina, and one toward whom he appears to have had a particularly intense devotion, as the guru of the triple world, that is, the entire cosmos:
Guru of the triple world, master, sir— you are famous as the ocean of compassion, sir. Listen to my petition, o inner controller. |
tribhuvana guru svāmī jī karuṇā nidhi nāmī jī suni antarajāmī merī vīnatī jī (Bhūdhar Bhajan Saurabh, (hereafter BhūBhS) 20, pp. 22–23) |
He began another vinatī, this time addressed to the Jina in general instead of a specific Jina, by referring to the Jina as the sole guru of the world. Whereas he addressed Nemināth as an ‘ocean of compassion’ (karuṇā nidhi), in this poem he used a phrase widely found in all the religious traditions of North India to refer to the Jina as one who out of compassion comforts the poor and oppressed (dīna dayāla), those people who, like Bhūdhar, suffer in the endless round of rebirth:
Aho! You are the sole guru of the world. Hear my request. You comfort the poor. I am suffering in the round of rebirth. |
aho jagataguru eka suniyo araja hamārī tuma ho dīnadayāla maiṁ dukhiyā saṃsārī (BhūBhS 42, pp. 53–54) |
In a third vinatī, also addressed to the Jina in general, he repeated the theme that the Jina is the guru of the world: he is the supreme guru (parama guru), who is worshipped by the whole world (jaga pūja). Again, he said that the Jina in his compassion uplifts the fallen (patita udhārana), and in a style of self-deprecation common to the genre, Bhūdhardās described himself as a suffering servant or slave (dāsa dukhī), playing upon the inclusion of the term for servant or slave (dāsa) in his own name:
Hail to the one who is famous as the supreme guru, who is honoured by all the world. He lifts up the fallen, he is the inner controller. Your servant suffers, but you are so helpful. Hear me, Lord, hear my petition. |
jai jagapūja paramaguru nāmī patita udhārana antarajāmī dāsa dukhī tuma ati upagārī suniye prabhu aradāsa hamārī (BhūBhS 43, p. 55) |
In other songs, Bhūdhardās directed his devotion and dependence to living gurus. As with other Digambara poets who wrote padas and other short texts on the true guru, for Bhūdhardās the image of the true guru often overlapped with, and in many ways became indistinguishable from, two other images: the Jain naked mendicant (muni, sadhu), who is also the true yogi, performing feats of renunciation and asceticism in the mountains, in the forests, and on the banks of remote streams.10 In one pada, Bhūdhardās addressed a fellow Jain, here using the term sādho, that is, someone who like Bhūdhardās is engaged in the practice (sādhanā) of Jain asceticism. While Bhūdhardās approached the guru as a spiritual superior, before whom Bhūdhardās was still a servant or slave (dāsa), there is a sense that the yogi-guru in such poems also provided a model for his own ideal spiritual pursuit:
O adept, he is my guru-lord. He keeps his thoughts, otherwise fluid as mercury, firm in the fire of yoga. |
so gurudeva hamārā hai sādho joga agani maiṁ jo thira rākheṁ yaha citta cañcala pārā (BhūBhS 46, p. 59; JPS guru stuti 16, p. 157) |
He concluded another pada by indicating that the spiritual relationship into which one voluntarily enters with a guru is superior to all family relationships, which are insufficient to save a person from repeated rebirths:
The guru is my mother, the guru is truly my father, the guru is my brother good friend. Bhūdhar says, In this round of rebirth the guru is the true shelter. |
guru mātā guru hī pitā guru sajjana bhāī bhūdhara yā saṃsārameṁ guru śarana sahāī (BhūBhS 47, p. 60) |
Bhūdhardās also composed two vinatī addressed to the living guru.11 In both of them he introduced an element lacking in the shorter padas in praise of the guru from which I have quoted. While these padas contain references to Jain metaphysics and practices, there is much in them that is the common currency of North Indian early modern guru songs. In his two vinatī, however, he highlighted an important feature that distinguishes a Digambara Jain true guru from any other guru: he must be naked, digambara. In one, he began the poem by inviting the guru, whom he likened to a ship to cross the ocean of rebirth (bhava jaladhi jihāja), to come reside in his own mind (te guru mere mana baso). In the second verse, Bhūdhardās said that the guru resides naked in the forest (digambara vana basai).12
The second guru vinatī is one of the most popular of Bhūdhardās’s poems and is reprinted in many contemporary hymnals. It is known by its first two words as bandau (or bandauṁ) digambara:
I venerate the feet of the naked guru. He is known in the world as saving and saviour. He is the great royal physician for those who wander the world in sickness. |
bandau digambara gurucarana jaga tarana tārana jāna je bharama bhārī rogako haiṁ rājavaidya mahāna (BhūBhS 50, pp. 68–69) |
The true Digambara guru as a naked muni
From a twenty-first-century perspective, Bhūdhardās’s depiction of the true Digambara Jain guru as being a naked muni is not surprising. There are several hundred naked muni in India today. Anyone who spends much time among North Indian Digambara Jains is sure to have the opportunity to meet a naked muni, to hear him preach, and perhaps even to observe the distinctive rite by which he is offered food once a day. Some of the munis have become powerful, charismatic leaders of the community. Their many books are found wherever Digambara Jain books are sold, and some of them have a growing presence on Indian cable television and the Internet. It is easy to forget just how recent this phenomenon is, and therefore to misread the sentiment expressed by Bhūdhardās when he says that he venerates the naked muni’s feet. It is probable that Bhūdhardās never had the opportunity to meet such a muni. By the time of Dyānatrāy and Bhūdhardās in the eighteenth century, the institution of the naked muni had not existed in North India for many centuries. In their stead, Digambara mendicants consisted of landed, clothed bhaṭṭāraks. There are scattered reports of the very occasional naked muni, usually one or two from Karnataka on their way through the North Indian Digambara population centres in Rajasthan and the western Doab on pilgrimage to Sammet Shikhar in East India.13 But they were at best rare visitors and had no real presence in the religious lives of North Indian Digambara Jains.
The naked muni, therefore, was an unseen historical ideal for the Jains of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century North India. But the preservation of this ideal of nudity in narrative, doctrinal, and devotional texts meant that there was a standard against which the more perceptive and historically sensitive Jains could measure the observable practice of the clothed bhaṭṭārak. As Tillo Detige shows in his essay in this volume, there was a tradition of texts and rituals in which both laity and semi-renouncers venerated and worshipped the bhaṭṭārak as living gurus.14 By the seventeenth century, however, we also start to see some unease at the bhaṭṭārak institution.
We see this in a longer poem by a third Agra poet. Banārsīdās, who lived from 1587 to 1643, is still revered today by Digambara littérateurs as the ādi-kavi of the Digambara vernacular tradition. Among his many compositions is the thirty-two-verse Sādhu Vandan, or Veneration of the Sādhu. In it, he enumerated the twenty-eight virtues of a Jain sadhu. This is an orthodox list dating to early in the first millennium CE.15
The bhaṭṭāraks followed many of these virtues, in part if not in whole. However, there was one that definitionally set apart an orange-robed bhaṭṭārak from a true muni; the latter was completely, permanently naked. Verse 27 of Banārsīdās’s poem, therefore, could only refer to a naked muni. As Nāthūrām Premī noted of this poem, ‘From this it is clear that the poet had no faith toward the bhaṭṭāraks and yatis who wore clothes’:16
Worldly shame has melted away, he is without fear. He has no desire for sense objects, he needs nothing. Naked, sky-clad— he is firm in this form. This is the king of muni— he is the cause of happiness in the world. |
loka lāja vigalita bhayahīna viṣaya vāsanā rahita adīna nagana digambara mudrādhāra so munirāja jagata sukhakāra (Banārsīdās, Sādhu Vandanā 27 in BaV-P, p. 133; BaV-NK, p. 131) |
When will I meet the true guru?
The contrast between the bhaṭṭārak and the muni came through clearly a century later in the padas by Bhūdhardās. He built upon the Jain genre of describing the ideal muni or sadhu, who was also the ideal yogi, and therefore from a Jain perspective the true guru. He also built upon several other genres that were not exclusively Jain. We have seen, for example, that Bhūdhardās was fond of the vinatī genre, in which the poet directly addressed an appeal to the object of his devotion.
The following pada is to be sung in the raga malār. Manuscripts and printed versions assign raga to many padas, and not infrequently assign different ragas to the same pada. As a result, we need to be cautious in attributing too much significance to the assignation of a specific raga to any one pada. In this case, however, I think that the indication that this pada is to be sung in malār is important. This raga is special to the rainy season. After the heat of the North Indian summer, the rains come as tangible, visceral relief. One’s senses revive, and the land comes alive. Water reappears in dry stream beds and ponds, the landscape turns green with grass and other fresh plants, flowers burst forth. This is a season of love. For humans it is often a time of reunion. Men return home after being gone all winter in pursuit of their livelihoods as merchants, migrant labourers, or mercenary soldiers. Women who have been longing for their men are anxious about whether or not they will be able to return before the heavy rains turn the roads to impassable mud. They are either joyous at the return of their men, or despondent at their absence. While there are many songs of reunion and union in this season, the songs that are emotionally most powerful are the heart-rending ones of separation, sung by women whose lovers have been unable to return. These are the poems of separation (viraha) that figure so strongly in both the secular and religious poetries of North India.
Bhūdhardās played on the theme of viraha in the following pada, in which he described the true guru from the Digambara perspective, and then indicated that not only had he never seen such a person in his life, it was most unlikely that he ever would. In his pain of separation, he asked plaintively, in the refrain that follows each verse, ‘When will I meet such an excellent muni?’:
When will I meet such an excellent muni, So beneficent? |
That sadhu is sky-clad, naked, clad in nothing. His only adornment is stopping the influx of karma. To him gold and glass are equal as are foes and allies. A palace or the burning ground, death or life, prestige or abuse— they are all the same. (1) |
When will I meet such an excellent muni? |
Bhūdhar joins his hands in humility, bows his head to those feet. That day will be wonderful when I have such a fortunate sight. (3) |
When will I meet such an excellent muni? |
ve munivara kaba mili hai upagārī sādhu digambara nagana nirambara saṃvara bhūṣaṇadhārī |
kañcana kāca barābara jinakai jyauṁ ripu tyauṁ hitakārī mahala masāna marana aru jīvana sama garimā aru gārī (1) |
jori jugala kara bhūḍhara binavai tina pada ḍhoka hamārī bhāga udaya darasana jaba pāūṁ tā dinakī balihārī (3) (BhūBhS 45, p. 58; JPS guru stuti 15, pp. 156–157) |
Anti-bhaṭṭārak
Much changed in North Indian Digambara Jain society during the early modern period. Authority in the Digambara community started to shift away from the bhaṭṭāraks. Laymen gathered to study and compose texts on their own, and to engage in their spiritual quests outside of the institutions controlled by the bhaṭṭāraks. Within two decades of the death of Banārsīdās in Agra in 1643, there were openly anti-bhaṭṭārak events in Sanganer in the 1660s, and the beginnings of the rise of the Terāpanth as a distinct sect among the North Indian Digambara Jains.17 The Terāpanth rejected the authority of the bhaṭṭāraks, and much of the ritual culture associated with them.
By the late nineteenth century, we start to see poems that praised the naked muni and criticized the clothed bhaṭṭārak in a much more explicit and contentious fashion. In 1930 Pannālāl Bāklīvāl published a collection of Jain padas, Jain Pad Sāgar. In it he included forty poems on the guru. These included poems by Bhūdhardās and other poets that asked when the poet would meet a true guru.
He also included seven poems that strike a more strident tone, by a poet named Jineśvardās. We know very little of this poet. He was active around the beginning of the twentieth century and lived in Sujangarh. In their mammoth five-volume catalogue of manuscripts in the libraries of Rajasthan, Kastūrcand Kāslīvāl and Anūpcand Nyāytīrth recorded only two manuscripts that include texts attributed to him. The texts were composed in 1899 CE (1956 VS) and 1903 CE (1960 VS). Kāslīvāl and Nyāytīrth said that Jineśvardās was from Sujangarh. Bāklīvāl was also from Sujangarh, so it is possible that he had known Jineśvardās in his childhood, and likely that at the very least he knew his ritual and devotional compositions. Many of his poems have indications of the raga in which they are to be sung, so it is possible that Jineśvardās was a singer and ritualist in the temples of Sujangarh. He also enjoyed using genres other than the pada, such as the rekhtā (a type of verse associated with Urdu poetry), khyāl (a musical style), and lāvanī (another musical style, used for texts longer than most padas).
Several of Jineśvardās’s guru poems fit clearly into the tradition of those by earlier poets. He described the true guru as residing in the forest, engaging in fierce asceticism, and being naked. But he also wrote poems that explicitly contrasted the true guru with the false one. In one lāvanī, entitled The Innate Form of the True Guru (Suguru Svarūp), he said that the true guru is clad only in his nudity, as he has renounced all clothes and ornaments (digambara bheṣa gurūkā vastrābhūṣaṇa tyāga diyā).18 In another contrasting lāvanī, entitled The Innate Form of the False Guru (Kuguru Svarūp), he embarked on a lengthy criticism of the bhaṭṭāraks and other false gurus.19 They lack correct knowledge (samyag-jñāna vinā), and in fact understand nothing of Jainism (jainadharmako yathāvata jānanavālā koī nahī). They lie instead of telling the truth (satya jhūṇṭhakā kaho ve). In investigating the Jain scriptures, they engage in unnecessary quarrels (jahāṁ jināgamakī carcā tahaṁ vina kāraṇa takarāra kiyā). They are criminals (ṭhaga), not gurus. While Jineśvardās did not compose a poem asking when he would see a true guru, it is likely that he longed for such an opportunity, given his lengthy descriptions of the true mendicant guru.
By the time Bāklīvāl published his anthology in 1930, however, the situation had changed dramatically, for the tradition of the naked muni was revived in the early twentieth century. The final poem Bāklīvāl included in praise of the guru represented a major innovation in contrast to the poems of the preceding centuries. This is an anonymous four-verse poem entitled The Auspicious Sight of Śāntisāgar, the Excellent Ācārya, for the Elderly (Vṛddhoṁkeliye Ācāryavarya Śāntisāgarakā Darśana).20
This poem was addressed to Ācārya Śāntisāgar.21 He was born in Karnataka in 1872, and after many years as a semi-renouncer, took the vows of a naked muni in 1920. He was promoted to the post of ācārya in 1924. At the time, he was one of a small number of naked munis, who almost exclusively were in South India. In 1927–1928 Śāntisāgar came north, first to Bombay, then on a grand pilgrimage through Central India to Sammet Śikhar in East India, and finally to Delhi, where he spent the 1928 rainy season retreat. He was greeted with much publicity everywhere he went, and his tour of North India is celebrated by Digambaras as marking the modern revival of the muni institution. He died in 1955.
There is nothing very remarkable about the poem itself, aside from its very existence and date: Bāklīvāl published his anthology just two years after Śāntisāgar’s triumphant tour of North India. As poetry it is rather mediocre. The poet played on the muni’s name to indicate that his presence brings peace (śānti) to the world and especially to his devotees. The poet declared himself a servant (dāsa), who seeks the shelter (śarana) of the feet of Śāntisāgar. All the possible realms of rebirth are marked by suffering (dukha). The poet lived a full life in pursuit of pleasure (sukha), but now finds that in his old age he has accumulated suffering and is feeble. In a conclusion that in some ways echoes the unsatisfied yearnings of the earlier poets, our anonymous poet was able to receive the grace of a true guru, for Śāntisāgar had entered his life.
Concluding comments: the Digambara Jain guru in the religious literature of early modern North India
In this essay, I have explored the Digambara Jain participation in the pan-Indian religious and literary theme of the guru. This Digambara articulation of the guru lies at the intersection of two religious and literary streams. One is the long-standing historical Jain ritual practice of venerating the Jina and the Jain mendicants as gurus. The other is the contemporaneous emphasis on the saving power of the guru in the Vaishnava and Sant communities of early modern North India. Looking at the Digambara Jain material in light of these two streams allows us to understand better how Jains have participated in larger currents of South Asian religion and culture. It serves the methodological function of showing that incorporating Jain materials into our understanding of any given theme in South Asian religion and culture results in an expanded understanding. The Digambara Jains have a rich tradition of guru bhakti, so any consideration of the history of the guru in South Asia is incomplete without including Jain material. At the same time, this essay shows us that this Jain participation is not a matter of simple ‘borrowing’ or ‘influence,’ but rather displays a distinctly Jain understanding of the true guru. As a result, we can come to a more nuanced understanding of how the Jains have participated in the larger history of the guru in South Asian religions.
Abbreviations
BaV-P | See Banārsīdās (1908) |
BaV-NK | See Banārsīdās (1954–1987) |
BhūBhS | See Bhūdhardās (1999) |
DBhS | See Dyānatrāy (2003) |
JPS | See Bāklīvāl (1930) |
MC | See Jñānmatī (1991) |
Part IV Jaina Authoritative Figures
12. ‘No one gives like the guru’: Devotion to the True Guru in Digambara Hindi Literature
The true guru in classical Digambara thought
Two visions of the Jain true guru
The true Digambara guru as a naked muni
When will I meet the true guru?
Anti-bhaṭṭārak
Concluding comments: the Digambara Jain guru in the religious literature of early modern North India
Abbreviations