A comparison of the narrative content

In this subsection I analyse the narrative content of Manohardās' Dharmaparīkṣā in Brajbhāṣā in comparison to Amitagati's Sanskrit Dharmaparīkṣā. Concretely, I discuss the differences that can be found in the main narrative or in the subnarratives of Manohardās' version. There are different degrees to which the Braj text diverges from the Sanskrit 'original'. One type of difference is that a character of a story is given another name. Another group of differences can be the inclusion of a completely new substory.

This relates to the adaptation as a product. With regards to adaptation as a process, these differences might stem from different motivations, such as religious context, literary

52 The use of the word bālaka is reminiscent of the genre of vernacular commentarial translations called bālāvabodha or bālabodha ('Instructions for the Unlettered') (see Cort 2015: 90).

environment, or personal creativity. In order to highlight the different motivations in a way that is clear to the reader, I will try to group together those deviations from Amitagati's original that I evaluate as of the same type. For that reason, the following discussion will not directly follow the plot order of Manohardās' text.⁵³ I discern four different 'types' of adaptation according to the 'subject' of the specific fragment. The first two 'types' are both influenced by processes of vernacularisation and localisation. The first relates to religion, whereas the second pertains to non-religious aspects. Because I believe that these processes (vernacularisation and localisation) are of particular influence in the adaptation of this particular Dharmaparīkṣā, I will treat these two types in greater detail. Another type of difference in terms of content discussed here, is elaborations related to gods and purāṇic episodes. The last divergences we can encounter in this Braj text are minor deviations that are influenced by style or preference. I will start my discussion here from the most logical point of the text, namely the very beginning.

Manohardās opens his composition with a maṅgalācaraṇa, first to the tīrthaṅkaras in general, then to Pārśvanātha and to Sarasvatī. As alluded to above, this kind of opening is common to Brajbhāṣā writings and is seen as a continuation of a Sanskrit literary trope that enables to cosmopolitanise or elevate the status of vernacular writing (see Bangha 2014: 400-401). Although the invocation by Manohardās is typically Jain in the sense that he starts with the tīrthaṅkaras, his opening verses express their own specific character.⁵⁴ Our Braj author already introduces in the second verse his intellectual guru (Vegrāj paṇḍit) and mentions Hīrāmaṇi in the sixth verse. This illustrates, in my opinion, how Manohardās as a poet was more embedded in, or even dependent on, a social network of Jain intellectuals than for example Amitagati or Hariṣeṇa were (cf. supra). We could say that this opening of the text immediately sets the tone which defines the adaptive work by Manohardās. It situates itself within a Jain literary tradition that is particularised by giving expression to the local environment. This localisation is, however, not exceptional to the maṅgalācaraṇa, and thus the following examples will fortify the idea of Manohardās' text as a vernacularised and localised version of Amitagati's Dharmaparīkṣā.

3.2.1.1 Vernacularising Religion

We encounter the first longer 'deviation' from Amitagati's 'original' in the description of Pāṭalīputra, when Manovega describes to his friend what he has seen there looking down upon the city while roaming around in the sky (DPA 3.21-34; DPM Arrah G-24 157-181).

53 A complete overview of the content of the text in comparison to the contents of other versions can be found in Appendix 1.

54 One would rather expect this from an opening of a text that typically introduces the work in its socio-historical context.

Before this, from the thirtieth verse onwards, Manohardās narrates the main story closely following Amitagati's words, as he depicts the cosmological setting of the story in a standardised fashion, that starts with Jambūdvīpa and zooms in on the mountain where our two vidyādharas live.

The sketch of Pāṭalīputra is at first very similar to that by Amitagati. This is a city on the banks of the Ganges inhabited by scholarly Brahmins who recite the Vedas and teach the Smṛtis (DPA 3.23; DPM Arrah G-24 160), who debate, who make offerings to Agni (DPA

3.29; DPM Arrah G-24 167), who discuss the eighteen Purāṇas and talk about tarka ('logic'), vyākaraṇa ('grammar'), kāvya ('poetry'), and nītiśāstra ('politics') (DPA 3.31-32; DPM Arrah G-24 168-169). Manohardās' depiction of Pāṭalīputra, however, does not stop there. In contrast to Amitagati he adds a list of Hindu practices that are more akin to a devotional nature. Manohardās says about the Brahmins in Pāṭalīputra:⁵⁵

Some bathe in the Ganges, some make pān of tulsī with mango shoots (dābha), some experience immersion in many ways, some recite the words 'Hari, Hari, Hari, Hari', some wash themselves with dirt (kaṣāya), some have their bodies covered, some wear Rudrākṣamālās, some wear twelve tilakas,⁵⁶ some have a tilaka as a sectarian mark (chāpa), some do pūjā to Yaśodā and Nanda, some do pūjā to Bāla Govinda (the child Kṛṣṇa), some do pūjā to śāligrāma (a fossil representing Viṣṇu), some do pūjā to Sītā and Rāma, some worship Rādhā-Kṛṣṇa, some worship Madana Gopāla, some offer all sorts of food and worship full of bhakti. [...] Some worship Śiva, some offer crown flowers (arka) and mango, [...] Some worship the goddess, some smoke Guggul,⁵⁷ some construct a maṇḍapa (temporary pavilion) of a banana plant, [...]

some wear a ṭīkā of red sandal, [...] some make many sons with women, and some devotees would get glory in the world.

This passage reads as a sort of encyclopaedic list of devotional or ritual Hindu practices with certain sentences describing Vaiṣṇava oriented practices and others relating to Śaivism and Śāktism. The prevalence of bhakti as the focus of religion in this passage is obvious and different from the description by Amitagati. In trying to make sense of why exactly Manohardās would have chosen to include these sentences, an explanation is, in my opinion, not straightforward. Part of the explanation has to do with the historical context. As mentioned above, the fifteenth to seventeenth centuries in North India are known as the heydays of bhakti religiosity with different sampradāyas of devotees with various spiritual leaders (including the Rāmānandis, Caitanyites, Vallabhites, and

55 This is a paraphrase of DPM Arrah G-24 271-279.

56 This is the Vaiṣṇava practice to apply twelve (dvādaśa) marks (tilakas) on the body (see Narayan 2018).

57 Guggul refers to the gum resin of the Commiphora wightii tree which is burned for its smoke (see Penacchio, Jefferson, and Havens 2010: 74).

others).⁵⁸ As such, Manohardās' account could refer directly to the prevalence of these bhakta practices in Pāṭalīputra or in Manohardās' surroundings at the time, in contrast to Amitagati's time. However, such a statement is difficult to make, as establishing the historical origin of religious practices with any certainty is near to impossible. Moreover, Hindu religiosity in the time of Amitagati was already characterised by devotional practices to different gods, most dominantly Śiva, Viṣṇu, and Devī (see Jain 1972: 405-421;

see also Al-Biruni's 'History of India', e.g. Chapter 66). The mere fact that Amitagati attacks the Hindu gods so vigorously, who are all in all the centres of Hindu devotion, illustrates this. On the other hand, some of the practices described by Manohardās were probably more prevalent in his time and might have arisen after the writing of Amitagati.

For example, chanting Hari's name became a dominant practice among the followers of Caitanya (see Delmonico 2007: 549-575), and marking the body with twelve tilakas, also a Gaudīya practice, would have no earlier reference than the twelfth or thirteenth century texts Īśvarasaṃhitā and Agastyasaṃhitā.⁵⁹

Putting the difficulty aside of tracing the historical origin of religious practices, I believe that a valuable part of understanding this inclusion lies in looking at the literary context. More specifically, at the implications that might come with writing in a vernacular language. When trying to generalise the difference between Amitagati's portrayal of the city and Manohardās' portrayal, we could pose that Pāṭalīputra is depicted by Amitagati as a city of scholastics and religious orthodoxy with the Brahmins as experts of this Hindu orthodoxy, whereas Manohardās depicts the city as one of religious practice and diversity within Hindu practice. In a way, we can interpret this as reflecting the difference between the classical and the vernacular. Whereas Amitagati would give expression to a 'high' form of the Brahmanical tradition,⁶⁰ Manohardās is able to highlight the more 'vernacular' subtraditions within Hinduism. The word 'vernacular' here is used in its sociological connotation of 'vernacular religiosity' by which I mean a form of religion that is rooted in practice, that is localised, flexible and understood in opposition to the more powerful 'high' religion. It denotes an understanding of religion that emphasises subjective and experiential aspects of religion 'as it is lived', but – through its connection to vernacular linguistics or vernacular art – leaves space for

58 Hawley (2011) has written an insightful article on the connection (or relative disconnection) of the four sampradāyas of North Indian Vaiṣṇavism with the earlier South Indian sampradāyas that is worthy of reading.

59 I thank James Mallinson for providing me this information via email (7^th of November 2019).

60 His description indeed includes the cultivated form of education a Brahmin would traditionally receive (incl.

tarka, vyākaraṇa, and kāvya; cf. supra).

communal interpretations of religion (see Primiano 1995).⁶¹ We could thus say that Manohardās' text does not only vernacularise the language of the 'original' Dharmaparīkṣā, but also its content. Now, I must add a note to this interpretation that the practices described by Manohardās are actually not as particularly local as the direct meaning of the term 'vernacular' would suggest. For example, the practices of chanting the name 'Hari, Hari' and wearing the rudrākṣamālā are also mentioned in the corresponding passage in the text by Hariṣeṇa (DPH 1.18). Apart from the possibility that Manohardās has used Hariṣeṇa as a second source,⁶² the equal occurrence of these practices in both the text of Hariṣeṇa and the text of Manohardās proves that they were not precisely 'localised' in the time and space of Manohardās.⁶³ Indeed, practices such as wearing a red ṭīkā and marking oneself with a tilaka, became relatively widespread through the networks of the religious communities to which they are (not exclusively) linked. As such, the practices described by Manohardās are in fact regional, or even pan-Indian. On the other hand, the practices described by Manohardās are local in that they originated within and often remained linked to specific subsects (e.g. the worship of Bāla Govinda) and are inherently linked to more individual (devotional) forms of religion.

Their persistent perceived contrast with 'high' Hinduism also defines their vernacularity.

Taking into account this duality in the character of these practices, we could interpret the addition by Manohardās as a premodern act of 'glocalisation' avant la lettre. This is a term borrowed from sociological studies to denote the intertanglement of local and global (or here transregional) phenomena (see Robertson 1991).⁶⁴ Moreover, because our author brings together these vernacular practices in one city, Pāṭalīputra becomes a truly cosmopolitan city full of diversity that is able to elevate the status of vernacular practices to appeal to a wider audience. We could even go as far as to suggest that Pāṭalīputra can be mirrored to the text itself, that is written in the vernacular with Sanskritic literary elements and that contains both purāṇic as well as folk narrative elements. As such, both the city and the text become a medium to regionalise or globalise vernacularity.

61 This does not mean that vernacular religion excludes all that belongs to normative religion, or the other way around. The concept of vernacular religion can even highlight creative engagements with higher forms of religiosity.

For a further discussion on the concepts of 'vernacular religion' in contrast to 'folk' or 'popular religion', see Bowman and Valk (2012).

62 I have not encountered another example to prove this, nor does Manohardās mention Hariṣeṇa in his text (in contrast to Amitagati).

63 I actually do not believe Manohardās has used the text by Hariṣeṇa in writing his own version, because there is no other real proof to support this.

64 In the same way as Pollock (2013) has argued for the 'Sanskrit cosmopolis', although Manohardās' 'globe' was much smaller than that of today, processes of transcultural belonging show resemblances to contemporary globalisation (see also Pollock 2006: 10-19).

Now, the way in which this fragment is 'glocal' does not only stem from the dual character of the content it describes. It is also related to the way in which Manohardās draws from his literary context. Manohardās vernacularises his composition in literary terms as well. He does so by including literary elements that are typical for the vernacular literary idiom. At the same time, such an expression of intertextuality (trans-)regionalises his composition, because it embeds the text in a widespread literary idiom. The following 'deviations' from Amitagati's original clarify this further.

A passage in Manohardās' text that we can relate to the one just discussed occurs towards the end of the plot, where the discussions with the Brahmins have ended and where Pavanavega is taught about the faults in other religions (cf. seventeenth pariccheda in Amitagati) (DPM Arrah ms. G-24, v. 1858-1863).

People do acts of pūjā and such, this is the cause of the fruit of shame [for them].

They do not understand [the consequences of] desiring sensuous objects. Know that these souls are without consciousness.

Tearing, drying, and doing suffering to the body, a yogi mendicant (bhikṣu) wastes his soul into worthlessness. He goes to the jungle, eats forest fruits and in silence makes his body suffer. Rejecting asceticism (tap) in the standing pose, having gone from the market to the top of the mountain, where have you vanished into. Oh, [your] extension of anubhava (experience of the self through insight) is [only] outer juice; lies, oh lies, you would do everything.⁶⁵

Whether one has repeated an incantation, whether one has performed asceticism, whether one, who has received all the mysteries (bheda), has performed a vow, whether one has dwelled naked or has put smoke on the body, whether one has gone to a pilgrimage place and has exhausted himself, whether one has remained in silence, or has meditated, whether he has endured coldness or has recited the eternal Veda. When one has done this, it is said: he who is without a pure psychological state (bhāv), he destroys all the fruits.

By reciting and repeating the lesson, one raises awareness of the whole story of the properties of the Jina, and of soul and non-soul. If one chants and honours the Hindu funeral and ancestral rites, [even] a conqueror of the world, if one bears affection that tears and seizes while worshipping, and if one remains in silence, one who does that much without concentration, who beats down love, he does not have affection with Nirañjana ('Supreme Lord').

'Thus is the supremely pure, thus is the ocean of happiness, thus is what is mindful, thus is what is truthful. Thus is morality, thus is veneration for a pious ascetic (sant sādh), thus is virtuousness, thus is what is with suffering and without, thus is a celibate, thus is being filled with knowledge and meditation, thus is supporting

65 This reference to an inner experience of insight (anubhava) is characteristic of adhyātma texts (see Parson 2019; cf. supra, p. 8).

vows, thus is that noble-minded warrior, thus is that wealthy tycoon.' The disciple of this, day and night, who is this man? – he, who is absorbed in himself.

Without [correct] knowledge (jñāna) and view (darśana), one can renounce the material world (dīkṣā) for a crore of years, but will not get rid of one's awful sins.

Says Manohardās [after] what has been written before.⁶⁶

I start my discussion of this passage with the final sentence where Manohardās returns to echoing the words of Amitagati (17.61) by dismissing dīkṣā ('renunciation') without proper understanding.⁶⁷ This final phrase motivates what comes before in the fragment, namely an elaboration on several forms of religious practice that is not found in Amitagati's text. As before, we have to consider that Manohardās lived in a historical context different from the one of Amitagati. As such, some traditions and practices did not (commonly) circulate in Amitagati's time and would thus necessitate a discussion by Manohardās of them. Indeed, with the use of the terms nirañjana ('Supreme Lord'; v. 1861) and sant sādh ('Saint' or 'Devotee'; v. 1862), Manohardās seems to refer to the nirguṇ bhakti traditions,⁶⁸ which became popular mostly from the fifteenth century onwards (cf. supra, p. 161). The mention of Nirañjana as divine principle, for example, could refer to the authors of the Nirañjani Sampradāya, who after their guru Haridās identified with this form of the divine, or to Śaivite and Nāth or even Sufi and Ismaili traditions who shared

66pujādika karaṇī karai, loka lāja phala heta, viṣai vāsanā nāhi laṣai, te jīva jāni acaita. 1858

phāḍī sukana tana kari dukhala yogī bhiṣa jīva tucha chīnā, jaṃgala jāi bhaṣai vana phala ko karakai aṃga mauna dukha dīnā, kṣipana rūpa ṣare tapa maṃḍī gira sirī jāi kahā tuma līnā, are āyāṃṇa anubhava rasa vāhira jhūṭha rai jhūṭha savai tai kīnā. 1859

savaīyā ikatīsā

jāpa japyo bhāvai tāpa tapyau bhāvai vrata karau ju laho sava bheda, nagana rahau tana dhūpa sahau bhāvai tīrtha jāi karau vahu ṣeda, mauna karau bhāvai dhyāna dharau bhāvai śīta sahau ra paḍhau nita ved, eto kiyo to kahā bhayo śuddha ju bhāva vinā e savai phala ched. 1860

savaīyā ikatīsā

pāṭha paḍhe ra raṭe jina ke guṇa jīva ajīva kathā sava cetī, jāpa japai tharapai kiriyā ara pīharitī vasudhā parijetī, sei darī harī prīti dharī vahu mauna dharī ra karī vahu etī dhyāna vinā ju payāra ko pīṭa vojo nahī prīti niraṃjana setī. 1861 savaīyā ikatīsā

parama punīta yohī yohī sukha sāgara hai yohī matavāna yohī paravāna jū, yohi dharmavaṃta yohī saṃta sādha pūja yohī guṇavaṃta yohī dukha setī hīna jū, yohī brahmacārī yohī jñāna dhyāna paripūri yoṃhī vrata dhārī yohī subhaṭa adīna jū, yohī dhani dhani vāna yāko cero ahaniśi so to nara kauna jauna ātama so līna jū. 1862

savaīyā ikatīsā

darśana jñāna vihīna, koṭi varaṣa diṣyā dharai, harai na pāpa malīna, kahai manohara pūrva kṛta. 1863 soraṭhā

67 Amitagati 17.61:

Ye dīkṣaṇena kurvanti papa-dhvaṃsaṃ vibuddhayaḥ, Ākāśa-maṇḍalāgreṇa te chindanti ripoḥ śiraḥ.

'Those without reason who [try to] destroy sin by renouncing the world, they split the head of their enemies as if with a sword of air.'

68 These two terms commonly occur in texts by, for example, the Dādu Panth and the Nirañjanis, two sects that were prolific in seventeenth-century Rajasthan (see the studies by Monika Thiel-Horstmann 1983; Tyler Williams 2014).

this appellation (see Williams 2014: 139). The reference to yogic practices could then perhaps be seen as resonating the nirguṇ bhaktas' reliance on Nāth-Yogic traditions.

However, as with the previous fragment, the changed religio-historical context covers only a part of the explanation. The immediate literary environment of vernacular writing for Manohardās must be seen as another important factor of influence. Indeed, as before, the focus of religion (at least for this fragment that is added to Amitagati's example) lies on religious practice, mostly in its devotional and ritual form, and the practices we encounter seem to express a certain 'localness'. For example, the yogis here are situated

However, as with the previous fragment, the changed religio-historical context covers only a part of the explanation. The immediate literary environment of vernacular writing for Manohardās must be seen as another important factor of influence. Indeed, as before, the focus of religion (at least for this fragment that is added to Amitagati's example) lies on religious practice, mostly in its devotional and ritual form, and the practices we encounter seem to express a certain 'localness'. For example, the yogis here are situated