Arts

From the discussion carried out so far, I hope the reader does not come to the conclusion that Kālidāsa is conservative or is always other-worldly in his thoughts; he lays emphasis on family life, especially in children, as evident from his literary works; he always professes dharma to be practised at all levels; one must do it with dedication and through the proper process; all such activities are dependent on the availability of resources, especially on money; if we are dedicated and follow the right set of procedures, resources will naturally follow (7.29).

Unlike in the epic, Duṣyanta in the play, does not seek to marry Śakuntalā in a hurry. Kālidāsa introduces Śakuntalā to Duṣyanta little by little; the poet has displayed great amount of finesse, decorum, and dignity in introducing his characters;[1] he has created an occasion for their acquaintance to gradually blossom into romantic love; having said this, we are not trying to say that the story slows down; in a short span of a few acts, Kālidāsa brings together a lot of information; many incidents take place in rapid succession.

The playwright has constructed the plot and stitched together incidents to align with the fundamental philosophy of the story and the nature of its characters. The story begins and ends in a tapovana. Only in the middle of the story, we come across a city, which, Kālidāsa calls sukha-saṅgī.

Mālavikā is a princess who was born and brought up in a palace; she is well-versed in dance and music; she was always a part of the life of antaḥpura and looked forward towards it.

The Śākuntalopākhyāna of the Mahābhārata has taken the form of an impressive nāṭaka in the skilled hands of Kālidāsa’s. The story in the epic is akin to gold ore; it contains grains and threads of gold caught amidst rugged stone; the raw stone has been cleared away, the gold is put together, and has been converted into a beautiful image in the form of the nāṭaka; the image is polished and embellished; it is placed on a divine pedestal. Kālidāsa has reduced long and pedantic conversations and preachy segments of the original into a few verses.

By the time of Kālidāsa, the role and characteristic features of the vidūṣaka had taken a concrete form. The vidūṣaka in the Vikramorvaśīyam is endowed with quite a few profound qualities. One can see some of his weaknesses as well; he cannot keep a secret. The segments where the clever Nipuṇikā deceives him and the way in which he tries to hide his stupidity before the king are comical. To convince Āyuḥ Kumāra that he need not fear him, the vidūṣaka compares himself to a monkey – this certainly tickles the connoisseur’s bones.

The poet has clearly indicated the difference between the personalities of the queen on the one hand and Urvaśī on the other; their names are suggestive of the difference in their nature – the queen is called Auśīnarī and the apsarā is Urvaśī. The poet has compared Urvaśī to Gaṅgā and lightning, while he says Auśīnarī is like a river flowing in the rainy season and is like the wick of a lamp. The following is the description of the queen who performs the vrata –

sitāṃśukā maṅgala-mātra-bhūṣaṇā

In the Vikramorvaśīyam, the poet has brought in several elements to amplify vipralambha-śṛṅgāra; as mentioned before, Purūrava gets separated thrice from Urvaśī and pines for her company. In no other play do we see the king going mad out of love for his beloved. It is likely that the playwright, Kālidāsa, wanted to provide special scope for elaborate music and enactment in his play and thus designed it to contain many such deeply emotional segments. It is not easy to enact love-madness.

There is quite a lot of difference between the story narrated above and the version that occurs in the Kathāsaritsāgara[1]. According to the Kathāsaritsāgara, Purūrava once spots Urvaśī in the Nandana-vana and falls in love with her. Bhagavān Viṣṇu, who understands Purūrava’s heart, instructs Indra to send Urvaśī to him. Purūrava brings her to his hometown and spends many days in conjugal bliss.

Once, when the precious gem was being brought upon a golden plate, an eagle mistook it for a piece of flesh and flew away with it. The king chased behind the bird and even before he could shoot an arrow at it, it went beyond the bow’s rage. Even as everyone had lost hopes of retrieving the gem, a huntress comes there the gem and also the arrow which had killed the bird. The king is surprised upon seeing the inscription on the arrow – Āyu, the son of Urvaśī and Purūrava.