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We have now examined most of the Vedic passages, which directly show that the Polar or the Circum-Polar characteristics, determined in the third chapter, were known by tradition to the Vedic bards. We started with the tradition about the night of the gods, or a day and a night of six months each, and found that it could be traced back to the Indo-Iranian, if not to the Indo-Germanic, period. A close examination of the dawn-hymns in the Ṛig-Veda next disclosed the fact that Uṣhas, or the deity presiding over the dawn, is often addressed in the plural number in the Vedic hymns, and that this could be accounted for only on the supposition that the Vedic dawns were a closely connected band of many dawns-a supposition, which was found to be fully borne out by express passages in the Vedic literature, stating, in unambiguous terms, that the Vedic dawns were 30 in number and that in ancient times a period of several days elapsed between the first appearance of light on the horizon and the rising of the sun. We have also found that the dawn is expressly described in the Ṛig-Veda as moving round like a wheel, a characteristic, which is the true only in the case of the Polar dawn. These facts sufficiently prove the acquaintance of the Vedic bards with the physical phenomena, witnessible only in the Arctic regions. But to make the matter more certain, I have, in the last three chapters, quoted and discussed Vedic passages, which go to prove that the long Arctic nights and the corresponding long days of varying duration, as well as a year of ten months or five seasons, were equally known to the poets of the Ṛig-Veda. An examination of the ancient sacrificial system and |
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especially of the annual Sattras and night-sacrifices, further showed that in old times yearly sacrificial sessions did not last for twelve months; as at present, but were completed in nine or ten months; and the hundred night-sacrifices were, at that time, really performed as their name indicates, during the darkness of the long night. The legends of Dîrghatamas and Aditi’s sons, and the tradition about the sacrificial sessions of the Navagvas and the Dashagvas also pointed to the same conclusion. Our case does not therefore, depend on an isolated fact here and an isolated fact there. We have seen that the half-year long day and night, the long dawn with its revolving splendors, the long continuous night matched by the corresponding long day and associated with a succession of ordinary days and nights of varying lengths and the total annual period of sunshine of less than twelve months are the principal peculiar characteristics of the Polar or the Circum-Polar calendar; and when express passages are found in the Vedas, the oldest record of early Aryan thoughts and sentiments, showing that each and every one of these characteristics was known to the Vedic bards, who themselves lived in. a region where the year was made up of three hundred and sixty or three hundred and sixty five days, one is irresistibly led to the conclusion that the poets of the Ṛig-Veda must have known these facts by tradition and that their ancestors must have lived in regions where such phenomena were possible. It is not to be expected that the evidence on each and every one of these points will be equally conclusive, especially as we are dealing with facts which existed thousands of years ago. But if we bear in mind that the facts are astronomically connected in such a way that if one of them is firmly established all the others follow from it as a matter of course, the cumulative effect of the evidence discussed in the previous chapters cannot fail to be convincing. It is true that many of the passages, quoted in support of the Arctic theory, are interpreted, in the way I have done, for the first time; but I have already pointed out that this is due to the fact that the real key to the interpretation of these |
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passages was-discovered only during the last 30 or 40 years. Yâska and Sâyaṇa knew nothing definite about the circum-polar or the Arctic regions and when a Vedic passage was found not to yield a sense intelligible to them, they either contented themselves with barely explaining the verbal texture of the passage, or distorted it to suit their own ideas. Western scholars have corrected some of these mistakes, but as the possibility of an Arctic home in pre-glacial times was not admitted 30 or 40 years back, the most explicit references, whether in the Avesta or the Ṛig-Veda, to a primeval home in the extreme north, have been either altogether ignored, or, somehow or other explained away, even by Western scholars. Many of the passages cited by me fall under this class; but I trust that if my interpretations are examined without any bias and in the, light of the latest scientific researches, they will be found to be far more natural and simple than those in vogue at present. In some cases no new interpretations were, however, necessary. The passages have been correctly interpreted; but in the absence of the true key to their meaning, their real import was either altogether missed, or but imperfectly understood. In such cases I have had to exhibit the passages in their true light or colors, giving in each case, my reasons for doing the same. This has sometimes rendered, it necessary to introduce certain topics not directly relevant to the question in hand; but on the whole, I think, it will be found that I have, as far as possible, tried to confine myself to the discussion of the direct evidence bearing on the points in issue and have examined it according to the strict method of historic or scientific investigation. I did not start with any preconceived notion in favor of the Arctic theory, nay, I, regarded it as highly improbable at first; but the accumulating evidence in its support eventually forced me to accept it, and in all probability, the evidence cited in the previous chapters, will, I think, produce the same impression on the reader’s mind. But the evidence, which I am now going to cite in support of the Arctic theory, is of a different character. If the |
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ancestors of the Vedic bards ever lived near the North Pole the cosmical or the meteorological conditions of the place could not have failed to influence the mythology of these people; and if our theory is true, a careful examination of the Vedic myths ought to disclose facts which cannot be accounted for by any other theory. The probative value of such evidence will manifestly be inferior to that of the direct evidence previously cited, for myths and legends are variously explained by different scholars. Thus Yâska mentions three or four different schools of interpretation, each of which tries to explain the nature and character of the Vedic deities in a different way. One of these schools would have us believe that many of the deities were real historical personages, who were subsequently apotheosized for their supernatural virtues or exploits. Other theologians divide the deities into Karma devatâs or those that have been raised to the divine rank by their own deeds and Âjâna devatâs or those that were divine by birth while the Nairuktas (or the etymologists) maintain Vedic deities represent certain cosmical and physical phenomena such as the appearance of the dawn or the breaking up of the storm-clouds by the lightening. The Adhyâtmikâs, on the other hand, try to explain certain Vedic passages in their own philosophical way; and there are others who endeavor to explain Vedic myths in other different ways. But this is not the place where the relative merits of these different schools can be discussed or examined. I only wish to point out that those, who explain the Vedic myths on the supposition that they represent, directly or allegorically, ethical, historical, or philosophical facts are not likely to accept any inference based upon the theory which interprets the Vedic myths as referring to certain cosmical and physical phenomena. It was for this reason that I reserved the discussion of the mythological evidence for consideration in a separate chapter, after all the evidence directly bearing on the subject has been examined. The evidence, which proves the existence of a long continuous dawn, or a long continuous day or night, is not affected by the different theories regarding the interpretation of |
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the Vedic myths, and may therefore, be termed what the lawyers call direct; but in the case of mythological evidence only those who accept the Nairukta method of interpretation, will admit the validity of any inference based upon the consideration of these myths. It is true that the Nairukta school of interpretation dates from ancient times, and that modern scholars have accepted the method almost without reserve, though they might differ from the ancient Nairuktas, like Yâska, in the details of the explanation suggested by them. But still when a new theory is to be established, I thought it safer to separate the mythological from the direct evidence bearing upon the points at issue, even when the two lines of investigation seemed to converge towards the same point. Now it has been recorded by Yâska that the Nairuktas explain most of the Vedic legends on the theory that they represent either the daily triumph of light over darkness, or the conquest of the storm-god over the dark clouds that imprison the fertilizing waters and the light of the sun. Thus when the Ashvins are said to have rescued a quail (Vartikâ) from the jaws of a wolf, Yâska interprets the legend to mean the release and bringing out of the dawn or light from the darkness of the night (Nir. V, 21). His explanation of the character of Vṛitra is another instance in point. Speaking of the nature of the demon, he thus refers (Nir. II, 16) to the opinions of the different schools, “Who was Vṛitra? ‘A cloud,’ say the Nairuktas; ‘an Asura, son of Tvaṣhṭṛi,’ say the Aitihâsikas. The fall of rain arises from the mingling of the waters and of light. This is figuratively depicted as a conflict. The hymns and the Brâhmaṇas describe Vṛitra as a serpent. By the expansion of his body, he blocked up the streams. When he was destroyed the waters flowed forth.”* * See Nir. II, 16; Cf. Muir’s O. S. T. Vol. II, p. 175. |
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The Storm and the Dawn theories thus formed the basis of the Nairukta school of interpretation, and though Western scholars have improved upon it, yet the credit of suggesting this method of interpretation will always rest with the ancient Nairuktas, who, as observed by Prof. Max Müller, had carefully thought out the true character of the Vedic gods several centuries before the Christian era. Thus the legend of Prajâpati loving his own daughter is explained in the Aitareya Brâhmaṇa as referring to the sun running after the dawn or the heaven above (Ait. Br. III, 33); while Kumârila extends this theory to the case of Indra and Ahilyâ, which according to him represent the sun and the night. But though the Nairuktas fully accepted the theory, which explained the Vedic myths as representing cosmical and physical phenomena, yet as their knowledge of the physical world was very limited in those days, they were not able to explain every Vedic myth or legend by this method. For example, out of ‘the various legends about the Ashvins Yâska could explain only one by the Dawn theory, namely, that of the quail being rescued from the jaws of the wolf. This defect has now been partially removed by Western scholars, who, living in the more northern regions are familiar with the decay in the power of the sun during the cold season, or the eventual triumph of spring over winter or the restoration of the decayed powers of the sun in summer. This phenomena has, therefore, been used by them to explain the origin of certain Vedic myths, which have been left unexplained either by the Dawn or the Storm theory. Up to now, we have, thus, three theories for explaining the Vedic myths according to the Nairukta school of interpretation; and it is necessary to describe them briefly before we proceed to show how they fail to account for all the incidents in the myths and legends to which they are applied. According to the Dawn theory, “the whole theogony and philosophy of the ancient world is centered in the Dawn, the mother of the bright gods, of the sun in his various aspects, of the morn, the day, the spring; herself the brilliant image and |
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visage of immortality.” Prof. Max Müller, in his Lectures on the Science of Language, further remarks* that “the dawn, which to us is a merely beautiful sight, was to the early gazers and thinkers the problem of all the problems. It was the unknown land from whence rose every day those bright emblems of divine powers, which, left in the mind of man the first impression and intimation of another world, of power above, of order and wisdom. What we simply call the sun-rise, brought before their eyes every day the riddle of all riddles, the riddle of existence. The days of their life sprang from that dark abyss, which every morning seemed instinct with light and life.” And again “a new life flashed up every morning before their eyes and the fresh breezes of the dawn reached them like greetings wafted across the golden threshold of the sky from the distant lands beyond the mountains, beyond the clouds, beyond the dawn, beyond the immortal sea which brought us hither.” The dawn seemed to them to open golden gates for the sun to pass in triumph and while those gates were open their eyes and their minds strove in their childish way to pierce beyond the finite world. That silent aspect awakened in the human mind the conception of the Infinite, the Immortal, the Divine, and the names of dawn became naturally the names of higher powers. “This is manifestly more poetic than real. But the learned Professor explains many Vedic myths on the theory that they are all Dawn-stories in different garbs. Thus if Saraṇyu, who had twins from Vivasvat, ran off from him in the form of a mare, and he followed her in the form of a horse, it is nothing but a story of the Dawn disappearing at the approach of the sun and producing the pair of day and night. The legend of Suryâ’s marriage with Soma, and of Vṛiṣhâkapâyî, whose oxen (the morning vapors) were swallowed by Indra, or of Aditi giving birth to the Âdityas are again said to be the stories of the Dawn under different aspects. Saramâ, crossing the waters to find out the cows stolen by Paṇis, is similarly the Dawn * See Lectures on the Science of Language, Vol. II, p. 545, ƒƒ. |
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bringing with her the rays of the morning, and when Urvashi says that she is gone away and Purûravas calls himself Vasiṣhṭha or the brightest, it is the same Dawn flying away from the embrace of the rising sun. In short, the Dawn is supposed to have been everything to the ancient people, and a number of legends are explained in this way, until at last the monotonous character of these stories led the learned professor to ask to himself the question, “Is everything the Dawn? Is everything the Sun?” — a question, which he answers by informing us that so far as his researches were concerned they had led him again and again to the Dawn and the Sun as the chief burden of the myths of the Aryan race. The dawn here referred to is the daily dawn as we see it in the tropical or the temperate zone, or, in other words, it is the daily conquest of light over darkness that is here represented as filling the minds of the ancient bards with such awe and fear as to give rise to a variety of myths. It may be easily perceived how this theory will be affected by the discovery that Uṣhas, or the goddess of the dawn in the Ṛig-Veda, does not represent the evanescent dawn of the tropics, but is really the long continuous dawn of the Polar or the Circum-Polar regions. If the Arctic theory is once established many of these mythological explanations will have to be entirely re-written. But the task cannot be undertaken in a work which is devoted solely to the examination of the evidence in support of that theory. The Storm theory was originally put forward by the Indian Nairuktas as a supplement to the Dawn theory, in order to account for myths to which the latter was obviously inapplicable. The chief legend explained on this theory is that of Indra and Vṛitra, and the explanation has been accepted almost without reserve by all Western scholars. The word Indra is said to be derived from the same root which yielded indu, that is, the rain drop; and Vṛitra is one, who covers or encompasses (vṛi, to cover) the waters of the rain-cloud. The two names being thus explained, everything else was made to harmonize with the Storm theory by |
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distorting the phrases, if the same could not be naturally interpreted in confirmity therewith. Thus when Indra strikes parvata (i.e. a mountain) and delivers the rivers therefrom, the Nairuktas understood parvata to be a storm cloud and the rivers to be the streams of rain. Indra’s wielding the thunderbolt has been similarly interpreted to mean that he was the god of the thunderstorm, and thunderstorm implied rain as a matter of course. If the Maruts helped Indra in the battle, it was easily explained by the Storm theory because a thunderstorm or rain was always accompanied by stormy weather. But a more difficult point in the legend, which required explanation, was the hemming in or the captivating of the waters by Vṛitra or Ahi. In the case of waters in the clouds it was easy to imagine that they were kept captive in the cloud by the demon of drought. But the Ṛig-Veda often speaks of sindhus or streams being released by the slaughter of Vṛitra; and if the streams or rivers really represented, as conceived by the advocates of this theory, the rivers of the Punjab, it was rather difficult to understand how they could be described as being hemmed in or kept captive by Vṛitra. But the ingenuity of Vedic scholars was quite equal to the occasion, and it was suggested that, as the rivers in India often entirely dried up in summer the god of the rainy, season, who called them back to life, could be rightly described as releasing them from the grasp of Vṛitra. The Indian Nairuktas do not appear to have extended the theory any further. But in the hands of German mythologians the Storm theory became almost a rival to the Dawn theory; and stories, like that of Saraṇyu, have been explained by them as referring to the movements of dark storm-clouds hovering in the sky. “Clouds, storms, rains, lightning and thunder,” observes Prof. Kuhn, “were the spectacles that above all others impresses the imagination of the early Aryans and busied it most in finding terrestrial objects to compare with their ever-varying aspects, The beholders were at home on the earth, and the things on the earth were comparatively familiar to them; even the coming and going |
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of the celestial luminaries might often be regarded by them with more composure, because of their regularity; but they could never surcease to feel the liveliest interest in those wonderful meteoric changes, so lawless and mysterious in their visitations, which wrought such immediate and palpable effects for good or ill upon the lives and fortunes of the beholders.”* For this reason Prof. Kuhn thinks that these meteorological phenomena are the principal ground-work of all Indo-European mythologies and superstitions; and in accordance with this creed Prof. Roth explains Saraṇyu as the dark storm-cloud soaring in the space in the beginning of all things and takes Vivasvat as representing the light of heavens. The third theory, like the first, is solar in origin, and attempts to explain certain Vedic myths on the supposition that they represent the triumph of spring over snow and winter. Yâska and other Indian Nairuktas lived in regions where the contrast between spring and winter was not so marked as in the countries still further north; and it was probably for this reason that the Vernal theory was not put forward by them to explain the Vedic myths. Prof. Max Müller has tried to explain most of the exploits of the Ashvins by this theory.† If the Ashvins restored Chyavâna to youth, if they protected Atri from the heat and darkness, if they rescued Vandana from a pit where he was buried alive, or if they replaced the leg of Vishpalâ, which she had lost in battle, or restored Ṛijrâshva his eye sight, it was simply the Sun-god restored to his former glory after the decay of his powers in winter. In short the ‘birth of the vernal Sun, his fight against the army of winter, and his final victory at the beginning of the spring is, on this theory, the true key to the explanation of many myths where the Sun-god is represented * See Max Müller’s Lectures on the Science of Language Vol. II, p. 566. |
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as dying, decaying or undergoing some other affliction. As contrasted with the Dawn theory the physical phenomena, here referred to, are annual. But both are solar theories, and as such may be contrasted with the Storm theory which is meteorological in origin. Besides these three theories, the Dawn, the Storm and the Vernal, Mr. Nârâyaṇa Aiyangâr of Bangalore has recently attempted to explain a number of Vedic myths on the hypothesis that they refer to Orion and Aldebaran. This may be called the Astral theory as distinguished from others. But all these theories cannot be discussed in this place; nor is it necessary to do so, so far as our purpose is concerned. I wish only to show that in spite of the various theories started to explain the Vedic myths, a number of incidents in several important legends have yet remained unexplained; and mythologists have either ignored them altogether, or pushed - them out of the way as insignificant or immaterial. If everything could be explained by the Dawn or the Storm theory, we may indeed hesitate to accept a new theory for which there would then be very little scope; but when a number of facts, which have yet remained unexplained, are satisfactorily and appropriately accounted for only by the Arctic theory, we shall be perfectly justified in citing these legends as corroborative evidence in support of our new theory. It is from this point of view that I mean to examine some of the important Vedic myths in this and the following chapter, and shall now begin with the legend of Indra and Vṛitra, or of captive waters, which is generally believed to have been satisfactorily explained by the Storm theory. The struggle between Indra and Vṛitra is represented in the Vedas as being four-fold in character. First, it is a struggle between Indra and Vṛitra, the latter of whom appears also under thee names of Namuchi, Shuṣhṇa, Shambara, Vala, Pipru, Kuyava and others. This is Vṛitra-tûrya, or the fight or struggle with Vṛitra. Secondly, it is a fight for the waters, which either in the form of sindhus (rivers) or as âpaḥ (simple floods), are often described as released or liberated |
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by the slaughter of Vṛitra. This is ap-tûrya or the struggle for waters; and Indra is called apsu-jit or conquering in the waters, while Vṛitra is described as encompassing them (âpaḥ pari-shayânam). Thirdly, it is a struggle to regain the cows (go-iṣhṭi); and there are several passages in the Ṛig-Veda where the cows are said to have been released by India after having overthrown Vṛitra. Fourthly, it is a fight to regain the day-light or heaven called (div-iṣhṭi), or the striving for day; and in many places the sun and the dawn; are, said to be brought out by Indra after killing Vṛitra.* The following extracts from Macdonell’s Vedic Mythology give the requisite authorities from the Ṛig-Veda for this four-fold character of the struggle between Indra and Vṛitra. Speaking of the terrible conflict, he thus sums up the principal incidents thereof as mentioned in the Ṛig-Veda: — “Heaven and earth trembled with fear when India strikes Vṛitra with his bolt (I, 80, 11; II, 11, 9-10; VI, 17, 9), even Tvaṣhṭṛi who forged the bolt, trembles at Indra’s anger (I, 80, 14). Indra shatters Vṛitra with bolt (I, 32, 5); and strikes his face with his pointed weapon (I, 52, 15). He smote Vṛitra, who encompassed the waters (VI, 20, 2), or the dragon that lay around (pari-shayânam) the waters (IV, 19, 2); he overcame the dragon lying on the waters (V, 30, 6). He slew the dragon hidden in the water and obstructing the waters and the sky (II, 11, 5), and smote Vṛitra, who enclosed the waters, like a tree, with the bolt (II, 14, 2). Thus * The exploits of Indra are very pithily summed up in the Nivids or short Sûtras or sentences used in offering oblations to the gods. These will be found collected in a separate chapter amongst the Pari-shiṣhtas or supplements to the Ṛig-Veda Saṁhitâ text published in Bombay (Tatvavivechaka Press). According to Dr. Haug these Nivids are the originals of the Vedic Suktas or hymns. As regards the meaning of Div-iṣhṭi see Oldenberg’s Vedic Hymns (I, 45, 7), S. B. E. Series, Vol. XLVI. p. 44. |
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conquering in the waters (apsu-jit) is his exclusive attribute (VIII, 36, 1).”* As regards the abode of Vṛitra, we have (§ 68, A): — “Vṛitra has a hidden (niṇya) abode, whence the waters, when released by Indra, escape, overflowing the demon (I, 32, 10). Vṛitra lies on the waters (I, 121, 11; II, 11, 9), or enveloped by the waters, at the bottom (budhna) of the rajas or aerial space (I, 52, 6). He is also described as lying on a summit (sânu), when Indra made the waters to flow (I, 80, 5). Vṛitra has fortresses, which Indra shatters when he slays him (X, 89, 7), and which are ninety-nine in number (VIII, 93, 2; VII, 19, 5). He is called nadî-vṛît, or encompasser of rivers (I, 52, 2), and in one passage parvata or cloud is described as being within his belly (I, 54, 10).” There are again passages (V, 32, 5 & 6) where India is said to have placed Shuṣhṇa, who was anxious to fight, “in the darkness of the pit,” and slaughtered him “in the darkness which was unrelieved by the rays of the sun,” (asûrye tamasi). In 1, 54, 10, darkness is said to have prevailed in Vṛitra’s hollow side, and in II, 23, 18, Bṛihaspati, with Indra is said to have hurled down the ocean, which was “encompassed in darkness,” and opened the stall of kine. Finally in I, 32, 10, Vṛitra’s body is said to have sunk in “long darkness,” being encompassed with waters. This shows that the waters of the ocean, which was encompassed by Vṛitra, were not lighted by the rays of the sun. In other words, the ocean (arṇaḥ) which Vṛitra is said to have encompassed was different from the “bright ocean” (shukram arṇaḥ) which the sun is said to have ascended in V, 45, 10. Vṛitra’s ocean (arṇava) was enveloped in darkness (tamasâ parivṛitam, II, 23, 18), while the ocean, which the sun ascended, was bright and shining (shukram). Indra is again described as going to a very distant (parâvat) region to kill Vṛitra or Namuchi, (I, 53, 7; VIII, 12, 17; VIII, 45, 25). If we combine all these statements * See Macdonell’s Vedic Mythology, in Grundriss der Indo-Arischen Philologie and Altertumskunde, § 22 (Indra), pp. 58-61. |
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regarding the scene of the struggle between Indra and Vṛitra, we are led to the conclusion that the fight took place in a dark, distant and watery region. In VIII, 32, 26, India is said to have killed Arbuda with ice (hima); and in X, 62, 2, the Aṅgirases, who were the assistants of Indra in his conquest of the cows, are said to have struck Vala at the end of the year (parivatsare). There is another statement in the Ṛig-Veda, which gives us the date of Indra’s fight with Shambara, but we shall discuss it later on. It is stated above that the number of Vṛitra’s forts destroyed by Indra is given as ninety-nine; but in other passages it is said to be ninety or one hundred (I, 130, 7; IV, 30, 20,). These fortresses or cities (puraḥ) are described as made of stone or iron (IV, 30, 20; IV, 27, 1), and in some places they are said to be autumnal (shâradîḥ, I, 130, 7; 131, 4; VI, 20, 10). The importance of these facts, in the interpretation of the legend, will be discussed later on. We have seen that the release of cows and the bringing up of the dawn and the sun are the simultaneous effects of Indra’s conquest of Vṛitra. The following extract from Macdonell’s Vedic Mythology (p. 61) give the necessary authorities on the point: “With the liberation of waters is connected the winning of light, sun and dawn. Indra won light and the divine waters (III, 34, 8), the god is invoked to slay Vṛitra and win the light, (VIII, 89, 4). When Indra had slain the dragon Vṛitra with his metallic bolt releasing the waters for man, he placed the sun visibly in the heavens (I, 51, 4; 52, 8). Indra, the dragon-slayer, set in motion the flood of waters of the seat generated the sun and found the cows (II, 19, 3). He gained the sun and the waters after slaying the demon (III, 33, 8-9) When Indra slew the chief of the dragons and released the waters from the mountain, he generated the sung the sky and the dawn (I, 32, 4; VI, 30, 5). The cows are also mentioned along with the sun and the dawn, (I, 62, 5; II, 12, 7; VI, 17, 5), or with the sun alone (I, 7, 3; II, 19, 3; X, 138, 2), as being found, delivered or won by Indra.” |
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Indra is described in other passages as having released the streams pent up by the dragon (II, 11, 2), and he is said to have won the cows and made the seven rivers flow (I, 32, 12; II, 12, 12). In II, 15, 6, the streams released by him have been described as flowing upwards (udañcham). It may be further noticed that in all these passages the clouds are not referred to under their ordinary name abhra; but the words used are parvata, giri, adri, (which primarily mean a mountain), or ûdhas (udder), utsa (spring) kabandha (cask) or kosha (pail). All these words have been interpreted by the Nairuktas as meaning a cloud, and this interpretation has been accepted by Western scholars. The word go, which generally means cow, is also interpreted in some cases to mean the waters released by Indra. Thus when Indra is said to have released the cows, which were fast within the stone (VI, 43, 3), or when he is said to have moved the rock, which encompassed the cows, from its place (VI, 17, 5), it is understood that the reference is to a cloud-rock, which imprisons the rain-waters. Maruts are the usual companions of Indra in this, fight; but Viṣhṇu, Agni, and Bṛihaspati are also spoken of as assisting him in the rescue of the cows from the grip of Vala. Bṛihaspati’s conquest of Vala who had taken shelter in a rock, is thus taken to be a paraphrase of Indra’s conquest over Vṛitra. In X, 62, 2 and 3, the Aṅgirases are also described as driving out the cows, piercing Vala and causing the sun to mount the sky, — exploits, which are usually attributed to Indra. There are other versions of the same story to be found in Ṛig-Veda, but for the purpose in hand, we need not go beyond what has been stated above. Now whosoever reads this description of Indra’s fight with Vṛitra cannot fail to be struck with the fact that there are four simultaneous effects (Sâkam, in VI, 30, 5), said to have been produced by the conquest of Indra over Vṛitra, namely, (1) the release of the cows, (2) the release of the waters, (3) the production of the dawn and (4) the production of the sun. Let us now see if the Storm theory satisfactorily explains the simultaneous production of these results from the destruction |
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of Vṛitra. Vṛitra is a cloud, a storm-cloud, or a rain-cloud, hovering in the sky, and by smiting it with his thunder-bolt Indra may well be described as realizing the waters imprisoned therein. But where are the cows which are said to be released along with the waters? The Nairuktas interpret cows to mean waters; but in that cage, the release of the waters and the release of the cows cannot be regarded as two distinct effects. The recovery of the dawn and the sun, along with the release of waters, is, however, still more difficult to explain by the Storm theory, or, we might even say, that it cannot be explained at all. Rain-clouds may temporarily obscure the sun, but the phenomenon is not one which occurs regularly, and it is not possible to speak of the production of the light of the sun as resulting from the breaking up of the clouds, which may only occasionally obscure the sun. The recovery of the dawn, as a prize of the conflict between Indra and Vṛitra simultaneously with the release of waters, is, similarly, quite inexplicable by the Storm theory. The rain-clouds usually move in the heavens, and though we may occasionally find them on the horizon, it is absurd to say that by striking the clouds Indra brought out the dawn. I know of no attempt made by any scholar to explain the four simultaneous effects of Indra’s fight with Vṛitra by any other theory. The Storm-theory appears to have been suggested by the Nairuktas, because the release of waters was supposed to be the principal effect of the conquest, and waters were naturally understood to mean the waters, which we see every day. But in spite of the efforts of the Nairuktas and Western scholars, the simultaneous winning of light and waters still remains unexplained. Macdonell (Ved. Myth. p. 61) referring to this difficulty observes, “There appears to be a confusion between the notion of the restoration of the sun after the darkness of the thunderstorm, and the recovery of the sun from the darkness of the night at dawn. The latter trait in the Indra myth is most probably only an extension of the former.” If this means anything, it is only a confession of the inability of Vedic scholars to explain |
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the four simultaneous effects of Indra’s conquest over Vṛitra by the storm theory; and, strange to say, they seem to attribute their failure, not to their own ignorance or inability, but to the alleged confusion of ideas on the part of the Vedic bards. These are not, however, the only points, in which the Storm-theory fails to explain the legend of Indra and Vṛitra. It has been pointed out above that Vṛitra was killed in distant regions, in which ghastly darkness reigned, and which abounded in waters; while in X, 73, 7, Indra by killing Namuchi, alias Vṛitra, is said to have cleared the gates of the Devayâna path, evidently meaning that Vṛitra was killed at the gates of the path leading to the region of the gods. Even in the Avesta, the fight between Apaosha and Tishtrya is said to have taken place in the sea of Vouru-Kasha, and Tishtrya is described as moving along the path made by Mazda after his fight with Apaosha. Vṛitra’s abode is similarly described as “hidden” and “enveloped by water” at the bottom of rajas (I, 52, 6). None of these conditions is satisfied by making the storm-cloud, the scene of the battle between Indra and Vṛitra; for a cloud cannot be said to be the ocean of waters, nor can it be described as lying in a distant (parâvat) region, or at the threshold of the Devayâna or the path of the gods. In the Ṛig-Veda parâvat is usually contrasted with arâvat, and it means a distant region on the other side, as contrasted with the region on this or the nearer side. The Devayâna is similarly contrasted with the Pitṛiyâna, and means the northern celestial hemisphere. The clouds over the head of the observer cannot be said to be either in the distant region, or at the gate of the Devayâna; nor can we speak of them as enveloped by sun-less darkness. It is, therefore, highly improbable that the rain-clouds could have been the scene of battle between Indra and Vṛitra. It was the sea on the other side, the dark ocean as contrasted with the bright ocean (shukram arṇaḥ) which the sun mounts in the morning, where the battle was fought according to the passages referred to above; and the description is appropriate only in the case of the |
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nether world, the celestial hemisphere that lies underneath, and not in the case of clouds moving in the sky above. I do not mean to say that Indra may not have been the god of rain or thunderstorm, but as Vṛitrahan, or the killer of Vṛitra, it is impossible to identify him with the god of rain, if the description of the fight found in the Vedic passages is not to be ignored or set aside. The third objection to the current interpretation of the Vṛitra myth, is that it does not satisfactorily explain the passages, which give the time of Indra’s fight with the demon. On the Storm theory, the fight must be placed in the rainy season or Varṣhâ; but the forts of Vṛitra, which Indra is said to have destroyed and thus acquired the epithet purabhid or purandara, are described in the Ṛig-Veda as autumnal or shâradîḥ i.e., belonging or pertaining to Sharad, the season which follows Varṣhâ. The discrepancy may be accounted for, by supposing that Varṣhâ and Sharad, were once included under one season which was named not Varṣhâ but Sharad. But the explanation is opposed to another passage in the Ṛig-Veda (X, 62, 2) which says that Vala was killed at the end of the year (parivatsare), unless we again suppose that the year commenced with Sharad in those days. Nor can we explain how Arbuda is said to be killed with hima (ice) by Indra. Again as previously stated, the dawn could not be considered as a prize of the conflict, nor could the fight be said to have been fought in darkness, if we choose the rainy season as the time for the battle of India with Vṛitra. It will thus be seen that the Storm theory does not satisfactorily explain the statements regarding the time of the struggle between Indra and Vṛitra. The fourth objection against the Storm theory, as applied to the story of Vṛitra, is that many words like parâvat, giri, or adri, which do not signify a cloud, either primarily on secondarily, have to be interpreted as referring figuratively to the rain-cloud. This sounds harsh in many a passage where Indra or Bṛihaspati is described as piercing a mountain or breaking open a stone-cave and liberating the waters or the |
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cows confined therein. In the absence of any other theory, we had to interpret these passages by the Storm theory, as the Nairuktas have done, by assigning to any and every word, used to denote the prison-house of waters or the cows, the meaning of a rain-cloud moving in the sky. But though we could thus temporarily get over the difficulty, the fact, that we had to strain the words used, or to assign unnatural meanings to them, was always a drawback, which detracted from the value of our interpretation. It was probably for this reason that Prof. Oldenberg was led to suggest that Indra’s piercing the mountain and liberating the waters therefrom should be understood to refer not to the rain-cloud, but to the actual striking of the mountains with the thunder-bolt and making the rivers flow forth from them. But, as observed by Max Müller, “the rivers do not gush out of rocks even when they have been struck by lighting”; and so Prof. Oldenberg’s explanation, though it gets us out of one difficulty, lands us on another, which, to say the least, is equally puzzling. If we, therefore, cannot suggest a better explanation, we might as well accept the device of the Nairuktas and interpret parvata or whatever other word or words may be found used to denote the place of the confinement of the waters, as meaning a cloud, and explain the legend of Vṛitra by the Storm theory as best as we can. It will be found from the foregoing discussion regarding the Storm theory as applied to the legend of Indra and Vṛitra, that it explains neither the simultaneous effects of Indra’s conquest over Vṛitra, nor the statements regarding the seat of the battle between them, nor those regarding the time when it took place, nor again does it allow us to take the words, used in certain Vedic passages, in their natural sense; and yet we find that the theory has been accepted as the basis of the legend from the times of the Nairuktas up to the present. Why should it be so? — is a question, which would naturally occur to any one, who examines the subject. It is true that the Storm theory fully explains the release of waters as a result of the fight; but the release of waters |
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is not the only consequence, which we have to account for. There are four simultaneous effects of the war, the release of the waters, the release of the cows, the recovery of the dawn and the production of the sun. The Storm theory ex-plains the first two and the Dawn theory the last two of these; but the whole set of four is explained by neither, nor could the theories be so combined as to explain all the four effects, unless, like Prof. Macdonell, we suppose that the Vedic bards have confused the two entirely different ideas, viz., the restoration of the sunlight after thunderstorm and the recovery of light from the darkness of night. Of the two theories, the Storm and the Dawn, the ancient Nairuktas, therefore, seem to have adopted that which adequately accounted for the release of the waters and which suited better with their notion of Indra as a thunder-god, on the principle that half a loaf is better than none, and have ignored the remaining incidents in the legend as inexplicable, unimportant, or immaterial. The same theory has also been adopted by Western scholars, and it is the only theory in the field at present. But it is so manifestly inadequate that if a better theory could be found which will explain most of, if not all, the incidents in the legend, no one would hesitate to abandon the Storm theory in favor of the latter. It is, in my opinion, a mistake to suppose that the struggle between Indra and Vṛitra originally represented the conflict between the thunder-god and the rain-cloud. It is really a struggle between the powers of light and darkness and we find traces of it in the Aitareya Brâhmaṇa (IV, 15.), where Indra alone of all gods is described as having under taken the task of driving out Asuras from the darkness of the night. That Indra is the god of light is also evident from many other passages in the Ṛig-Veda, where, without any reference to the Vṛitra fight, Indra is said to have found the light (III, 34, 4; VIII, 15, 5; X, 43, 4) in the darkness (I, 100, 8; IV, 16, 4), or to have produced the dawn as well as the sun (II, 12, 7; 21, 4; III, 31, 15), or opened the darkness with the dawn and the sun (I, 62, 5). It was he, who made the sun to shine |
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(VIII, 3, 6), and mount in the sky (I, 7, 1), or prepared a path for the sun (X, 111, 3), or found the sun in “the darkness in which he resided” (III, 39, 5). It is evident from these passages that Indra is the winner of light and the sun and this character of his was well understood by scholars, for Indra as apavaryan, or the recoverer (fr. apa-vṛi) of light, is compared by Max Müller with Apollon in the Greek mythology. But scholars have found it difficult to explain why this character of Indra should be mentioned in conjunction with other exploits, such as the conquest of Vṛitra and the liberation of the waters. In fact that is the real difficulty in the explanation of the legend either by the Storm or by the Dawn theory. Indra liberated the waters and brought about the dawn by killing Vṛitra, — is undoubtedly the burden of the whole story; but no explanation has yet been found by which the simultaneous recovery of light and waters could satisfactorily be accounted for. We have seen that by the Storm theory we can account for they release of waters, but not the recovery of the dawn; while if the legend is taken to represent a struggle between light and darkness, as implied by the Dawn theory, we can account for the recovery of the dawn and the sun, but not for the release of waters. Under these circumstances it is necessary to examine the nature and character of waters as described in the Vedas, before we accept or reject either or both of the above-mentioned theories. It has been noticed above that the passages, where waters are said to be released by Indra after killing Vṛitra do not refer expressly to the rain-cloud. The words parvata, giri and the like are used to denote the place where the waters were confined, and âpaḥ or sindhus, to denote the waters themselves. Now âpaḥ, or waters generally, are mentioned in a number of places in the Ṛig-Veda, and the word in many places denotes the celestial or aerial waters. Thus we are told that they follow the path of the gods, and are to be found beside the sun, who is with them (I, 23, 17). In VII, 49, 2, we have an express statement that there are waters, which are celestial (divyâḥ âpaḥ), and also those that flow in earthly |
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channels (khanitrimâḥ, thus clearly distinguishing between terrestrial and celestial waters. In the same verse they are said to have the sea or the ocean for the goal; and in VIII, 69, 12, the seven rivers are said to flow into the jaws of Varuṇa as into a surging abyss. Varuṇa again is described as the god, who, like Indra, makes the rivers flow (II, 28, 4); and we have seen that the sage Dîrghatamas is said to have been borne on the waters wending to their goal (I, 158, 6). But it is needless to cite more authorities on this point, for scholars are agreed that both celestial and terrestrial waters are mentioned in the Ṛig-Veda. The nature, the character, or the movements of celestial waters appear, however, to be very imperfectly understood; and this is the sole reason why scholars have not yet been able to connect the release of the waters with the recovery of the dawn in the Vṛitra legend. It seems to have been supposed that when the Ṛig-Veda speaks of the celestial waters (dîvyâḥ âpaḥ) only the rain-waters are intended. But this is a mistake; for, in passages which speak of the creation of the world (X, 82, 6; 129, 3), the world is said to have once consisted of nothing but undifferentiated waters. In short, the Ṛig-Veda, like the Hebrew Testament, expressly states that the world was originally full of waters, and that there were the waters in the firmament above and waters below. The Shatapatha Brâhmaṇa (XI, 1, 6, 1), the Aitareya Upaniṣhad (I, 1) and Manu (I, 9), all say that the world was created from watery vapors. There can, there fore, be no doubt that the idea of celestial waters was well-known to the ancestors of the Vedic bards in early days; and as the celestial waters were conceived to be the material out of which the universe was created, it is probable that the Vedic bards understood by that phrase what the modern scientist now understand by “ether” or “the nebulous mass of matter” that fills all-the space in the universe. We need not, however, go so far. It is enough for our purpose to know that the celestial waters (divyâḥ âpaḥ), or the watery vapors (puriṣham), are mentioned in the Ṛig-Veda and that the Vedic bards considered the space or the region above, below |
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and around them to be full of these celestial vapors which are said to be coeval with the world in X, 30, 10. It is, however, alleged by Wallis in his Cosmology of the Ṛig-Veda (p. 115) that the Vedic bards were not acquainted with the regions below the earth, and that every thing, which is described in the Vedas as occurring in the atmosphere, including the movements of the sun during night and day, must, be placed in the regions of the sky, which were over the head of these bards. This view appears to be adopted by Macdonell in his Vedic Mythology; and if it be correct, we shall have to place all the waters in the upper heaven. But I do not think that Wallis has correctly interpreted the passages quoted by Prof. Zimmer in support of his theory that a rajas (region) exists below the earth; and we cannot, therefore accept Wallis’ conclusions, which are evidently based upon prepossessions derived most probably from the Homeric controversy. Prof. Zimmer refers to three passages (VI, 9, 1; VII, 80, 1; V, 81, 4) to prove that a rajas beneath the earth was known to the Vedic people. The first of these passages is the well-known verse regarding the bright and the dark day. It says, “the bright day and the dark day, both roll the two rajas by the well-known paths.” Here the two rajas are evidently the upper and the lower celestial hemisphere; but Wallis asks us to compare this verse with I, 185, 1, where day and night are said “to revolve like two wheels,” that is, to circle round from east to west, the one rising as the other goes down, and observes that “We are in no way obliged to consider that the progress of either is continued below the earth.” I am unable to understand how we can draw such an inference from these passages. In VI, 9, 1, quoted by Zimmer, two rajas or atmospheres are men tinned, and the bright and the dark day are said to roll along both these rajas or regions. But if we hold with Wallis that the progress of either begins in the east and stops in the west, without going below the earth, the whole movement becomes confined to one rajas or region and does not extend over the two. Zimmer’s interpretation is, therefore, not only more |
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probable, but the only one that explains the use of rajasî (in the dual), or the two regions, in the verse. The next passage (VII, 80, 1) is also misunderstood by Wallis. It describes the dawn as “unrolling the two regions (rajasî), which border on each other (samante), revealing all things. Now; the dawn always appears on the horizon and the two rajas, which it unrolls and which are said to border on each other, must meet on this horizon. They can therefore only represent the lower and the upper celestial sphere. But Wallis would have us believe that both these rajasî are above the earth, and that narrowing down together towards east and west they meet on the horizon like two arched curves over one’s head! The artificial character of this explanation is self-evident, and I see no reason why we should adopt it in preference to the simple and natural explanation of Zimmer, unless we start with a preconceived notion that references to the regions below the earth ought not to be and cannot be found in the Ṛig-Veda. The third passage pointed out by Zimmer is V, 81, 4, which says “O Savitṛi! Thou goest round (parîyase) the night, on both sides (ubhayataḥ). “Here Wallis proposes to translate parîyase by “encompassest;” but parîyase ordinarily means “goest round,” and there is no reason why the idea of motion usually implied by it should be here abandoned. It will thus be seen that the conclusion of Wallis is based upon the distortion of passages which Zimmer interprets in a simpler and a more natural way: and that Zimmer’s view is more in accordance with the natural meaning of these texts. But if an express passage be still needed to prove conclusively that the region below the earth was known to the Vedic bards, we refer to VII, 104, 11, where the bard prays for the destruction of his enemies and says, “Let him (enemy) go down below the three earths (tisraḥ pṛîthiviḥ adhaḥ).” Here the region below the three earths is expressly mentioned; and since the enemy is to be condemned to it, it must be a region of torment and pain like the Hades. In X, 152, 4, we read, “One who injures ms, let him be sent to the: nether darkness (adharam tamaḥ),” |
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and, comparing this with the last passage, it is evident that the region below the earth was conceived as dark. In III, 73, 21, we have, “Let him, who hates us, fall downwards (adharaḥ),” and in 11, 12, 4, the brood of the Dasyu, whom India killed, is said to be “sent to the unknown nether world (adharam guhâkaḥ).” These passages directly show that region below the earth was not only known to the Vedic bards, but was conceived as filled with darkness, and made the scene of India’s tight with Vṛitra. It may, however, be alleged that “below the three earths” may simply mean underneath the surface of the earth. But, in that case, it was not necessary to speak of all the three earths, and since we are told that the region is below all the three earths, it can refer only to the nether world. This is further proved by the passage which describes what is above the three earths. The expression, corresponding to tisraḥ pṛîthiviḥ adhaḥ or “the region below the three earths,” will be tisraḥ pṛîthiviḥ upari or the region above the three earths,” and as a matter of fact this expression is also found in the Ṛig-Veda. Thus in I, 34, 8, we are told that “the Ashvins, moving above the three earths (tisraḥ pṛîthiviḥ upari), protect the vault or the top of heaven (divo nâkam) through days and nights”; and Ashvins are said to have come on their car from a distant region (parâvat) in the preceding verse of the same hymn. The phrase divo nâkam occurs several times in the Ṛig-Veda and means the top or the vault of the heaven. Thus in IV, 13, 5, the sun is said to guard (pâti) the vault of the heaven (divo nâkam); and as regards the three-fold division of the earth it is mentioned in several places in the Ṛig-Veda (I, 102, 8; IV, 53, 5; VII, 87, 5), and also in the Avesta (Yt. XIII, 3; Yasna, XI, 7). In IV, 53, 5, this three-fold division is further extended to antarikṣha, rajas, rochana and dyu or heaven. This shows what we are to understand by “three earths.” It is the one and the same earth, regarded as three-fold; and since the Ashvins are described as protecting the vault of heaven by moving “above the three earths,” it is clear that in contrast with the vault above, a nether region, as far below |
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the three earths as the heaven is above them, must have been conceived and denoted by the phrase “below the three earths,” and that the latter expression did not merely mean an interterranean ground. When we meet with two such phrases as the heaven “above the three earths,” and the region “below the three earths,” in the Ṛig-Veda, phrases, which cannot be mistaken or misunderstood, the hypothesis that the Vedic bards were not acquainted with the nether world at once falls to the ground. Mr. Wallis seems to think that since rajas is said to be divided three-fold, like the earth, and since the highest rajas is mentioned as the seat of waters, there is no scope in the Vedic division of rajas for a region beneath the earth; for the three rajas are exhausted by taking them as the rajas of the earth (pârthivam), the rajas of the sky (divo rajaḥ) and the highest (paramam) rajas, the seat of waters. But this objection is quite untenable, inasmuch as six different rajas are also mentioned in the Ṛig-Veda (I, 164, 6). We can, therefore, suppose that there were three rajas above the earth and three below it, and so meet the apparent difficulty pointed out by Wallis. The three rajas can in some places be also interpreted to mean the earthly rajas, the one above the earth and the one below it, (X, 82, 4). In I, 35, 2, the Savitṛi is described as moving through the dark rajas (kṛiṣhṇena rajasâ), and in the next verse we are told that he comes from the distant (parâvat) region, which shows that the dark rajas and the parâvat region are synonymous;, and that the sun ascends the sky after passing through the dark rajas. Again the use of the word “ascend” (ud-yan or ud-âcharat, I, 163, 1; VII, 55, 7), to describe the rising of the sun in the morning from the ocean, shows,, by contrast, that the ocean which the sun is said to enter at the time of setting (X, 114, 4) is really an ocean underneath the earth. In I, 117, 5, the sun is described as sleeping in “the lap of Nir-ṛiti,” and “dwelling in dark ness”; while in 1, 164, 32 and 33, the sun is said to have traveled in the interior of heaven and earth and finally gone into Nir-ṛiti, or as Prof. Max Müller renders it, “the exodus |
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in the west.” Now, in X, 114, 2, there are three Nir-ṛitis mentioned, evidently corresponding to the three earths and three heavens; and in X, 161, 2, the lap of Nir-ṛiti is identified with the region of death. Pururavas is again said (X, 95, 14) to have gone to the distant region (param parâvatam) and there made his bed on the lap of Nir-ṛiti; while the Maruts are described as mounting up to the firmament from the bottomless Nir-ṛiti in VII, 58, 1. All these passages taken together show that Nir-ṛiti, or the land of dissolution and death, commenced in the west, that the sun lying in darkness traveled through the distant region (parâvat) and eventually rose in the east from the lap of Nir-ṛiti, and that the whole of this movement was placed not in the upper heaven, but on the other side of the vault through which the sun traveled before he entered into Nir-ṛiti. In other words, the Nir-ṛitis extended below the earth from west to east; and since the region below the three earths is expressly mentioned in the Ṛig-Veda, the three Nir-ṛitis must be understood to mean the three regions below-the earth corresponding to the threefold division of the earth or of the heaven above it. Zimmer is, therefore, correct in stating that the sun moved through the rajas below the earth during night and that the Vedic poets knew of this nether rajas. There are other passages in the Ṛig-Veda which fully support the same view. Thus corresponding to the rajasî, or the two rajas, we have another expression in the dual, namely, ubhau ardhau, which literally denotes “the two halves,” and when applied to heaven, “the two celestial hemispheres.” The expression ardhau occurs in II, 27, 15, and the two halves are there asked to be propitious to the sacrificer. Wallis, however, interprets ubhau ardhau to mean “heaven and earth.” But this is a mistake for there is a passage in the Ṛig-Veda where we have the phrases pare ardhe (in the farther half) and upare ardhe (in the nearer half) of heaven (divaḥ), showing that the heaven alone (and not heaven and earth) was conceived as divided into two halves (I, 164, 12). A few verses later on (I, 164, 17), the cow with her calf (the |
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dawn with the sun) is described as having appeared below the upper and above the lower realm, i.e., between heaven and earth and a question is then asked “To what half (ardham) has she departed?” which again shows that the (ardham) here referred to is quite distinct from heaven and earth. In the Atharva Veda, X, 8, 7 and 13, the “two halves” are referred to, and the poet asks, “Prajâpati with one half (ardham) engendered all creation; what sign is there to tell us of the other half?” Here the other half cannot mean the earth; and Griffith accordingly explains it as referring to the sun at night. Another expression used to denote the upper and the lower world is samudrau or the two oceans, (X, 136, 5). These two oceans are said to be one on this side (avara) and one on the other (para) side in VII, 6, 7; and a yonder ocean (parâvati samudre) is mentioned in VIII, 12, 17. I have already quoted above the passages which speak of the bright arṇaḥ or ocean (V, 45, 10), and of arnava or an ocean pervaded with darkness (II, 23, 18). The two words parastât and avastât are also employed to convey the same idea. They denote a region on the nearer side and a region on the farther side. Thus in VIII, 8, 14, parâvat region is contrasted with ambara or the heaven above, and in III, 55, 6, the sun is described as sleeping in the parâvat region. We have seen above that Savitṛi is said to come up from the parâvat region, and that he moves through the dark region before ascending the sky. The two words parâvat and arvâvat thus separately denote the same regions that are jointly denoted by the dual words rajasî, ardhau or samudrau; and when both the upper and the lower hemispheres were intended the word ubhayataḥ was employed. Thus in III, 53, 5, we read, “O Maghavan! O brother Indra! go beyond (parâ) and come hither (â) you are wanted in both places, (ubhayatra).” The passages where Savitṛi is described as going round the night on both sides is already referred to above, With these passages before us, we cannot reasonably hold that the Vedic bards were ignorant of the lower celestial |
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hemisphere, as supposed by Wallis, and some other scholars. Nor is the hypothesis a priori probable, for I have shown elsewhere that the Vedic bards knew enough of astronomy to calculate the movements of the sun and the moon tolerably correct for all practical purposes; and the people, who could do this, could not be supposed to be so ignorant as to believe that the sky was nailed down to the earth at the celestial horizon, and that when the sun was not seen during the night, he must be taken to have disappeared somewhere in the upper regions of the heaven. The passage from the Aitareya Brâhmaṇa (III, 44) which is quoted by Wallis, and which tells us that the sun, having reached the end of the day, turns round as it were, and makes night where there was day before and day on the other side, and vice versa, is very vague and does not prove that the sun was believed to return by night through a region, which is somewhere in the upper heaven. The words used in the original are avastât and parastât; and Dr. Haug correctly translates parastât by “what is on the other side.” Muir and others, however, interpret parastât to mean “upper,” thus giving rise to the hypothesis that the sun returns during night by a passage through the upper region of the heaven. But in the face of the express passages in which regions below and above all the three earths are unmistakably mentioned, we cannot accept a hypothesis based upon a doubtful translation of a single word. It is a hypothesis that has its origin either in the preconceived notion regarding the primitive man, or in a desire to import into the Vedas the speculations of the Homeric cosmography. The knowledge of the Vedic bards regarding the nether world may not have been as exact as that of the modern astronomers, and we, therefore, meet with such questions in the Ṛig-Veda (I, 35, 7) as “Where is Sûrya now (after sunset) and which celestial region his rays now illumine?” But there is enough explicit evidence to prove that the Vedic people knew of the existence of a region below the earth, and if some of their notions about |
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this underworld were not very distinct, that does not, in the least, affect the value of this evidence. If we, therefore, dismiss from our mind the idea that the lower world was not known to the Vedic people, an assumption, which is quite gratuitous, the movements and character of the celestial waters become at once plain and intelligible. The ancient Aryans, like the old Hebrews, believed that the subtle matter, which filled the whole space in the universe, was nothing but watery vapors; and secondly that the movements of the sun, the moon and other heavenly bodies were caused by these vapors which kept on constantly circulating from the nether to the upper and from the upper to the lower celestial hemisphere. That is the real key to the explanation of many a Vedic myth; and unless we grasp it thoroughly, we cannot rightly understand some of the utterances of the Vedic poets. These waters were sometimes conceived as rivers or streams, moving in the heaven, and eventually falling into the mouth of Varuṇa or the nether ocean (VII, 49, 2; VIII, 69, 12). The nether world was, so to say, the seat or the home of these waters, called yahvatîḥ or the eternal (IX, 113, 8) and they formed the kingdom of Varuṇa and Yama, as well as the hidden (niṇya) abode of Vṛitra. This movement of waters is very clearly expressed in the Parsi scriptures. In the Vendidad, XXI, 4-5 (15-23), the waters are described as follows, — “As the sea Vouru-Kasha is the gathering place of waters, rise up, go up the aerial way and go down on the earth; go down on the earth and go up the aerial way. Rise up and roll along! thou in whose rising and growing Ahura Mazda made the aerial way. Up! rise up and roll along! thou swift-horsed sun, above Hara Berezaiti, and produce light for the world, and mayest thou rise up there, if thou art to abide in Garo-nmânem, along the path made by Mazda, along the way made by the gods, the watery way they opened.” Here the aerial waters are said to start from their gathering place, the sea Vouru-Kasha, go up into heaven and come back again to the sea to be purified before starting on a second round. Prof. Darmesteter in a note on this passage |
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observes that “waters and light are believed to flow from the same spring and in the same bed”, and quotes Bundahish, XX, 4, which says, “just as the light comes in through Albûrz (Hara Berezaiti, the mountain by which the earth is surrounded) and goes out through Albûrz, the water also comes out through Albûrz and goes away through Albûrz.” Now waters are described in the Ṛig-Veda as following the path of the gods (VII, 47, 3), much in the same way as the waters in the Avesta are said to follow the path made by Mazda or the way made by the gods. Like the Avestic waters, the waters in the Ṛig-Veda have also the sea for their goal, and going by the aerial way eventually fall into the mouth of Varuṇa. But the Avesta supplies us with the key which establishes the connection of waters and light in unambiguous terms, for, as remarked by Prof. Darmesteter, it states clearly that both of them have the same source, and, in the passage quoted above, the swift-horsed sun is accordingly asked to go along the watery way in the skies above. In the Aban Yasht (V, 3), the river Ardvi Sûra Anâhita is described as running powerfully from the height Hukairya down to the sea Vouru-Kasha, like the river Sarasvati, which is described in the Ṛig-Veda as tearing the peaks of mountains, and is invoked to descend from the great mountain in the sky to the sacrifice (V, 43, 11). Both are aerial rivers, but by coming down upon the earth they are said to fill up all the terrestrial streams. The terrestrial waters, nay, all things of a liquid nature on the earth, e.g., the plant-sap, the blood, &c., were thus supposed to be produced from the aerial waters above by the agency of clouds and rain. The Parsi scriptures further tell us that between the earth and the region of infinite light (the parame vyoman of the Ṛig-Veda), there are three intermediate regions, the star region, which has the seeds of waters and plants, the moon region, and the sun region, the last being the highest (Yt. XII, 29-32). When the Ṛig-Veda, therefore, speaks of the highest rajas as being the seat of waters, it is not to be understood, as supposed by Wallis, that there are no nether |
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waters, for it is the nether waters that come up from the lower world and moving in the uppermost region of the heaven produce terrestrial waters by giving rise to rain and clouds. Thus Ardvi Sûra Anâhita is said to run through the starry region (cf. Yt. VII, 47), and has to be worshipped with sacrifice in order that her waters may not all run up into the region of the sun, thereby producing a drought on the surface of the earth (Yt. V, 85 and 90). In the Ṛig-Veda, the Sarasvatî is similarly described as filling the earthly region and the wide atmospheric space (VI, 61, 11) and is besought to come swelling with streams, and along with the waters. But the most striking resemblance between Ardvi Sûra Anâhita and Sarasvatî is that while the latter is described as Vṛitra-slayer or Vṛitra-ghnî in Ṛig. VI, 61, 7, Ardvi Sûra Anâhita is described in the Aban Yasht (V, 33 and 34) as granting to Thrâetaona, the heir of the valiant Athwya clan (Vedic Trita Âptya) who offered up a sacrifice to her, a boon that he would be able to overcome Azi Dahâk, the three-mouthed; three-headed and six-eyed monster. This is virtually the same story which is found in the Ṛig-Veda X, 8, 8, where Trîta Âptya, knowing his paternal weapons and urged by Indra, is said to have fought against and slew the three-headed son of Tvaṣhtṛi and released the cows. This clearly establishes the connection between waters, as represented by Ardvi Sûra Anâhita or Sarasvati, and the slaughter of Vṛitra. Many Vedic scholars have tried to identify Sarasvati with the river of that name in the Punjab; but as the latter is an insignificant stream, the identification has not been generally accepted. The above comparison now shows that the mighty Sarasvati, like Ardvi Sûra Anâhita, is an aerial stream, which rises up from the nether store-house of ‘waters, travels over the sky and again falls back into the lower ocean. A portion of these waters is brought down upon the earth in the form of rain by the sacrifices offered to the river, and along with it come the seeds of all the plants growing upon the surface of the earth. Thus in the Vendidad, V, 19, (56), the tree of all the seeds is described as growing |
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in the middle of the sea Vouru-Kasha, and the seeds are then said to be brought up by the aerial rivers and sent down by them to the earth by means of rain, an idea similar to that found in the Ṛig-Veda, I, 23, 20, where the sacrificer informs us that Soma has told him that all medicines (medicinal herbs) are contained in the waters. We have thus a complete account of the cosmic circulation of the aerial waters and the production of the terrestrial waters and plants there from. The nether world or the lower celestial hemisphere is the home of these waters, and it is expressly said to be bounded on all sides by a mountainous range like that of Hara Berezaiti. When the aerial waters are allowed to come up through this mountain, they travel over the upper hemisphere and again fall into the sea Vouru-Kasha, or the lower ocean, producing, during their course, rains which fertilize the earth and make the plants grow upon its surface. But instead of descending down in the form of rain, these aerial waters were, it was apprehended, apt to turn away into the region of the sun and deprive us of rain. It was, therefore, necessary to worship them with sacrifices and invoke their blessings. It is impossible to grasp the real meaning of the Vṛitra legend, without first realizing the true nature and importance of the movements of the aerial waters as conceived by the ancestors of the Indo-Iranian people. As observed by Dramesteter, celestial waters and light were believed to flow from the same spring or source, and they both ran a parallel course. It was these aerial waters that made the heavenly bodies move in the sky, just as a boat or any other object is carried down by the current of a stream or river. If the waters therefore, ceased to flow, the consequences were serious; for the sun, the moon, the stars, would then all cease to rise, and world would be plunged in darkness. We can now fully understand the magnitude of the mischief worked by Vṛitra by stopping the flow of these waters. In his hidden home, at the bottom of rajas, that is, in the lower hemisphere, he encompassed the waters in such a way as to stop their flow upwards through the mountain, and Indra’s victory over |
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Vṛitra meant that he released these waters from the clutches of Vṛitra and made them flow up again. When the waters were thus released, they naturally brought with them, the dawn, the sun and the cows, i.e. either days or the rays of the morning; and the victory was thus naturally described as four-fold in character. Now we can also understand the part played by parvatas, or mountains, in the legend. It was the mountain Albûrz, or Hara Berezaiti; and as Vṛitra, by stretching his body across, closed all the apertures in his mountainous range, through which the sun and the waters came up, Indra had to uncover or open these passages by killing Vṛitra. Thus the Bundahish (V, 5) mentions 180 apertures in the east and 180 in the west through Albûrz; and the sun is said to come and go through them every day, and all the movements of the moon, the constellations and the planets are also said to be closely connected with these apertures. The same idea is also expressed in the later Sanskrit literature when the sun is said to rise above the mountain in the east and set below the mountain in the west. The mountain on which Indra is said to have found Shambara (II, 12, 11), and the rock of Vala wherein the cows were said to have been imprisoned by the demon (IV, 3, 11; I, 71, 2) and which was burst open by Aṅgirases, also represent the same mountainous range, which separated the upper from the lower celestial hemisphere, or the bright from the dark ocean. This explanation of the Vṛitra legend may sound strange to many scholars, but it should be borne in mind that the co-relation between the flow of water and the rising of the dawn and the sun, here described, is not speculative. If the Vedic works do not express it in unambiguous terms, the deficiency is fully made up by the Parsi scriptures. Thus in Khorshed Yasht (VI, 2 and 3,) we are told that “When the sun rises up, then the earth becomes clean, the running waters become clean.... Should the sun not rise up, then the Daevas would destroy all the things that are in the seven Karshvares.” The passages in the Farvardin Yasht are still more explicit. This Yasht is devoted to the praise of the Fravashis, which correspond |
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to the Pitṛis of the Ṛig-Veda. These ancient fathers are often described, even in the Ṛig-Veda, as taking part, along with the gods, in the production of the cosmical phenomena. Thus the Pitṛis are said to have adorned the sky with stars, and placed darkness in the night and light in the day (X, 68, 11), or to have found the hidden light and generated the dawn (VII, 76, 4; X, 107, 1). The Fravashis in the Parsi scriptures are said to have achieved the same or similar exploits. They are described (Yt. XIII, 53 and 54) as having “shown the beautiful paths to the waters, which had stood, before for a long time in the same place, without flowing”; and the waters are then said to have commenced to flow “along the path made by Mazda, along the way made by the gods, the watery way appointed to them.” Immediately after (Yt. XIII, 57), the Fravashis are said to have similarly showed “the paths to the stars, the moon, the sun and the endless lights, that had stood before, for a long time, in the same place, without moving forward, through the oppression of the Daevas and the assaults of the Daevas.” Here we have the co-relation between the flowing of waters and the moving forward of the sun distinctly enunciated. It was the Fravashis, who caused to move onwards the waters and the sun, both of which “had stood still for a long time in the same place.” Prof. Darmesteter adds a note saying that it was “in winter” that this cessation of motion occurred, (Cf. Vend. V, 10-12; VIII, 4-10 cited and discussed (infra). The Fravashis are further described (Yt. XIII, 78) as “destroying the malice of the fiend Angra Mainyu (the Avestic representative of Vṛitra), so that the waters did not stop flowing, nor did the plants stop growing.” In Yasna LXV (Sp. LXIV), 6, the Fravashis, who had “borne the waters up stream from the nearest ones,” are invoked to come to the worshipper; and a little further on the waters are asked to “rest still within their places while the Zaota (Sans. Hotâ) shall offer,” evidently meaning that it is the sacrifice offered by the invoking priest that eventually secures the release or the flow of waters. There are other references to the flowing of waters (Yt. X, 61) |
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in the Parsi scriptures, but those cited above are sufficient to prove our point. The main difficulty in the rational explanation of the Vṛitra legend was to connect the flow of waters with the rising of the dawn, and the passages from the Farvardin Yasht quoted above furnish us with a clue by which this connection can be satisfactorily established. There are two passages in the Vendidad, which give us the period during which these aerial waters ceased to flow, and it is necessary to quote them here, inasmuch as they throw further light on the circulation of aerial waters. It has been stated above that according to Prof. Darmesteter these waters ceased to flow during winter, but the point is made perfectly clear in Fargards V and VIII of the Vendidad, where Ahura Mazda declares how the corpse of a person dying during winter is to be dealt with, until it is finally disposed of according to the usual rites at the end of the season. Thus in Fargard V, 10 (34), Ahura Mazda is asked, “If the summer is passed and the winter has come, what shall the worshipper of Mazda do?” To which Ahura Mazda answers, “In every house, in every borough they shall raise three Katas for the dead, large enough not to strike the skull, or the feet or the hands of the man; ...and they shall let the lifeless body lie there for two nights, three nights or a month long, until the birds begin to fly, the plants to grow, the floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the waters from off the earth. And as soon as the birds begin to fly, and the plants to grow, and the floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the waters from off the earth, then the worshipper of Mazda shall lay down the dead (on the Dakhma), his eyes towards the sun.” I have referred to this passage previously, but as the theory of the circulation of aerial waters was not then explained, the discussion of the passage had to be postponed. We now clearly see what is meant by the phrases like “floods to flow” and “plants to grow.” They are the same phrases which are used in the Farvardîn Yasht and are there connected with the shoving forward of the sun and the moon, that had stood still, or without moving, in the same place for a long time. In other |
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words, the waters, as well as the sun, ceased to move during winter; and the worshipper of Mazda is ordered not to dispose of the corpse until the floods began to flow and the sun to move, be it for two nights, three nights, or a month long. The: Mazda-worshippers believed that the corpse was cleansed by its exposure to the sun, and dead bodies could not, therefore, be disposed of during night. The passage from the Vendidad, above referred to, therefore, clearly indicates that the season of winter was once marked by long darkness extending over two nights, three nights, or a month; and that during the period, the floods ceased to flow and the plants to grow. It was during such a winter that the difficulty of disposing the corpse arose; and Ahura Mazda is asked what the faithful should do in such cases. The question has no meaning otherwise, for, if in the ancient home of the Mazdayasnians the sun shone every day during winter, as he does with us in the tropical regions, there would have been no difficulty in the disposal of the corpse by exposing it to the sun the next morning; and it would be absurd to ask the faithful to keep the uncleanly dead body in his house for two nights, three nights, or a month long, until the winter passed away. The passage from Fargard V quoted, above makes. no mention of darkness, though it can be easily inferred from the statement that the body is, at last, to be taken out and laid down on the Dakhma with its eyes towards the sun, evidently meaning that this ceremony was impossible to be performed during the time the dead body was, kept up in the house. But Fargard VIII, 4 (11), where the same subject is again taken up, mentions darkness distinctly. Thus Ahura Mazda is asked “If in the house of the worshipper of Mazda a dog or a man happens to die, and it is raining, or snowing, or blowing, or the darkness is coming on, when the flocks and the men lose their way, what shall the worshipper of Mazda do?” To this Ahura Mazda gives the same reply as in Fargard V. The faithful is directed, VIII, 9, (21), to dig a grave in the house, and there “let the lifeless, body lie for two nights, three nights, or a months, long, until the birds |
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begin to fly, the plants to grow, the floods to flow, and the wind to dry up the waters from off the earth.” Here in the question asked to Ahura Mazda darkness is distinctly mentioned along with snowing and blowing; and in the Farvardin Yasht we have seen that the flowing of waters and the moving of the sun are described as taking place at the same time. The passage from Tir Yasht, where the appointed time for the appearance of Tishtrya after conquering Apaosha in the watery regions is described as one night, two nights, fifty, or one hundred nights has already been referred to in the last chapter. From all these passages taken together lit inevitably follows that it was during winter that the water ceased to flow, and the sun to move, and that the period of stagnation lasted from one night to a hundred nights. It was a period of long darkness, when the sun was not seen above the horizon; and if a man died during the period, his corpse had to be kept in the house until the waters again commenced to flow, and the sun appeared on the horizon along with them. I have pointed out previously how the Hindu belief that it is inauspicious to die in the Dakṣhiṇâyana must be traced to this primeval practice of keeping the dead body undisposed of during the long Arctic night. The word Kâṭa which is used for “grave” in the Parsi scriptures occurs once in the Ṛig-Veda, I, 106, 6, where the sage Kutsa, lying in Kâṭa is described as invoking the Vṛitra-slaying Indra for his protection; and I think that we have here, at least, an indirect reference to the practice of keeping dead bodies in a Kâṭa, until Vṛitra was killed, and the waters and the sun made free to run their usual course. We are, however, concerned here only with the circulation of the celestial waters; and from the Avestic passages quoted above, it is clear that the aerial waters ceased to flow during winter for several days or rather nights, and that, since light sprang from the same source as waters, the sun also ceased to move during the period and stood still in the watery regions, until the Fravashis, who helped the gods in their struggle for waters or in their conflict with powers of darkness, made the waters and the sun move onwards |
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to take their usual course in the upper celestial hemisphere. We can now understand why Indra is described as moving by his might the stream upwards (udañcha) in II, 15, 6, and how the rivers are said to be set free to move on (sartave) by killing Vṛitra (I, 32, 12), or how in I, 80, 5, Indra is said to have made the lights of heaven shine forth without obstruction and set the waters (apaḥ) free to flow (sarmâya). There are many other passages in the Ṛig-Veda where the flowing of waters and the appearance of the sun or the dawn are spoken of as taking place simultaneously, as may be seen from the quotations from Macdonell’s Vedic Mythology given above, All these passages become intelligible only when interpreted on the theory of the cosmic circulation of aerial waters through the upper and the lower celestial hemispheres. But as the theory was little understood or studied in this connection, the Vedic scholars, ancient and modern, have hitherto failed to interpret the Vṛitra legend in a rational and intelligible way, especially the four simultaneous effects of the conquest of Indra over Vṛitra mentioned therein. The cosmic circulation of aerial waters described above, is not peculiar to the Indo-Iranian mythology. Dr. Warren, in his Paradise Found, states that a similar circulation of aerial waters is mentioned in the works of Homer. Homer describes the sun as returning to the flowing of the ocean, or sinking into it, and again rising from it and mounting the sky. All rivers and every sea and all fountains and even deep wells are again said to arise from the deep flowing ocean which was believed to encircle the earth.* Helios or the sun is further described as sailing from west to east in a golden boat or cup, evidently meaning that the underworld was supposed to be full of waters. But Homeric scholars seem to have raised unnecessary, difficulties in the proper interpretation of these passages by assuming that Homer conceived the earth * See Dr. Warren’s Paradise Found, 10th Edition (1893) Part V, Chap. V, pp. 250-260. |
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to be flat and that as the Hades was a region of complete darkness, the sun could not be said to go there even after his setting. Dr. Warren has, however, shown that the assumption is entirely groundless, and that Homer’s earth was really a sphere and that the underworld was full of aerial waters. We have seen above, how some Vedic scholars have raised similar difficulties in the interpretation of the Vṛitra myth by supposing that the lower celestial hemisphere was unknown to the Vedic bards. This is probably a reflection of the Homeric controversy, but as pointed out by Dr. Warren,* these baseless assumptions are clue mainly to a prejudice with which many scholars approach the question of the interpretation of ancient myths. It is assumed that the early man could not possibly have known anything about the world, beyond what the rudest savages know at present; and plain and explicit statements are sometimes put aside, distorted, or ignored by scholars, who, had they not been blinded by prejudice, would certainly have interpreted them in a different way. It is impossible to do justice to the subject in this place, and I would refer to reader for further details to Dr. Warren’s instructive work on the subject. Dr. Warren also states that Euripides, like Homer, held the view that there was one fountain of all the world’s water, and that the same conception is expressed by Hesiod in his Theogony, where all rivers as sons, and all fountains and brooks as daughters, are traced back to Okeanos. Then we have the constant descending movement of all waters until they reach the world-surrounding Ocean-river at the equator, beyond which is the underworld, similar to the movements of aerial waters described in the Avesta. Aristotle in his Meteors, is said also to have mentioned “a river in the air constantly flowing betwixt the heaven and the earth and made by the ascending and the descending vapors.”† It is again pointed by Grill that the ancient Germans had a similar world-river, and the descending Ukko’s stream and the ascending Anima’s stream in the * Paradise Found, p. 333ƒ. |
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Finnish mythology are similarly believed to be the traces of a like cosmic water-circulation. We read of a golden boat also in the Lettish mythology; and Prof. Max Müller, referring to it, says, “What the golden boat is that sinks into the sea and is mourned for by the daughter of the sky, however, doubtful it may be elsewhere, is not to be mistaken in the mythology of the Lets. It is the setting sun, which in the Veda has to be saved by the Ashvins; it is the golden beat in which Hêlios and Hêracles sail from west to east. Sometimes it is the Sun-daughter herself that is drowned like Chyavâna in the Veda, and as Chyavâna and similar heroes had to be saved in the Veda by the Ashvins, the Lets also call upon the Godsons to row in a boat and save the Sun-daughter.”* In connection with this, it may be here observed that the Ashvins are described in the Ṛig-Veda as saving their protégés in boats (I, 116, 3; I, 182, 6), and that though Ashvins’ boats are not described as golden, their chariot is said to be hiraṇayayî or golden in VIII, 5, 29; while the boats of Pûṣhan, in which he crosses the aerial ocean (samudra) are actually said to be golden in VI, 58, 3. In I, 46, 7, the Ashvins are again spoken of as having both a chariot and a boat, as a sort of double equipment; and their chariot is said to be samâna yojana, or traversing, without distinction, both the heaven and the watery regions in I, 30, 18. The word samâna is meaningless unless there is some difficulty in traversing over one part of the celestial sphere as distinguished from the other. The Vedic gods used these boats especially, in crossing the lower world, the home and seat of aerial waters; and when they appeared above the horizon, they are described as traversing the upper sphere by means of their chariots. But sometimes the waters are said to carry them even across the sky above, just as the chariot is described as going over the lower world. For instance in the legend of Dîrghatamas discussed previously, he is said to be borne on waters for ten * See Max Müller’s Contributions to the Science of Mythology, Vol. II, p. 433. |
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months and then growing old was about to die or reach the ocean, to which the waters were speeding. In other words, this means that the sun, who was borne on waters for ten months, was about to go into the lower watery regions as explained in the chapter VI. But to proceed with the subject in hand, the idea of the cosmic circulation of aerial waters, is not confined to the Indian, the Iranian or the Greek mythology. In the Egyptian mythology, Nut, the goddess of the sky, is sometimes “represented by a figure in which the band of stars is accompanied by a band of water”; and Sir Norman Lockyer tells us that “not only the Sun-gods, but the stars, were also supposed to travel in boats across the firmament from one horizon to the other.”* The Jewish idea of the firmament in the midst of waters, the waters above being after wards separated from the waters below the firmament, is already referred to above. There is, therefore, nothing strange or surprising if we find in the Vedas and in the Avesta more or less clear references to the circulation of aerial waters through the upper and the lower celestial hemispheres of the universe. It is an idea which is found in the ancient mythology of every other nation, and nothing but false prejudice can deter us from interpreting the simultaneous movements or the liberation of waters and light, described in the Vedic hymns, on the theory of the cosmic circulation of aerial waters. But even after accepting the theory of the cosmic circulation of celestial waters and the simultaneous release of waters and dawn, it may be asked how the Arctic theory comes in, or is in any way required, to explain the Vṛitra legend. We may admit that the waters imprisoned by Vṛitra by shutting up the passages through the rocky walls that surround them, may be taken to mean the celestial waters in the world below the three earths; but still, the struggle between Indra and Vṛitra may, for aught we know, represent the daily fight between light and darkness, and it may be * See Lockyer’s Dawn of Astronomy, p. 35. |
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urged, that there is no necessity whatever, for bringing in the Arctic theory to explain the legend. A little reflection will, however, show that all the incidents in the legend cannot be explained on the theory of a daily struggle between light and darkness. In X, 62, 2, the Aṅgirases, who are the assistants of Indra in his conquest of cows, are said to have defeated Vala at the end of the year (parivatsare). This shows that the struggle was annual and did not take place every day. Then we have the passage (VIII, 32, 26), where Arbuda, the watery demon, is said to have been killed by Indra with ice (hima), and not with a thunderbolt as usual. In addition to the fact that the struggle was an yearly one, we must, therefore, hold that the conflict took place during winter, the season of ice and snow; and this is corroborated by the statement in the Avesta, that it was during winter that the waters, and with them the sun, ceased to move onwards. Vṛitra’s forts are again described as autumnal or shâradîḥ showing that the fight must have commenced at the end of sharad (autumn) and continued during winter. We have further seen that there are a hundred night-sacrifices, and the duration of Tishtrya’s fight with Apaosha is described as varying from one to a hundred nights in the Tir Yasht. All these incidents can be explained only by the Arctic theory, or by the theory of the long autumnal night, and not on the hypothesis of a daily struggle between light and darkness. We have come to the conclusion that Indra’s fight with Vṛitra must have commenced in Sharad, and lasted till the end of Shishira in the watery regions of the nether world. Fortunately for us this conclusion is remarkably borne out by an important passage preserved in the Ṛig-Veda, which gives us, what may be called, the very date of the commencement of Indra’s conflict with Vṛitra, though the true bearing of the passage has yet remained unexplained owing to the absence of the real key to its meaning. In II, 12, 11, we read, “Indra found Shambara dwelling on the mountains (in) chatvâriṁshyâm |
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sharadi.”* Now chatvâriṁshyâm is an ordinal numeral in the feminine gender and in the locative case, and similarly sharadi is the locative of sharad (autumn), which also is a word of feminine gender in Sanskrit. The phrase chatvâriṁshyâm sharadi is, therefore, capable of two interpretations or constructions, though the words are simple in themselves. Chatvâriṁshyâm literally means “in the fortieth,” and sharadi “in autumn.” If we now take chatvâriṁshyâm (in the fortieth) as an adjective qualifying sharadi (in autumn), the meaning of the phrase would be “in the fortieth autumn”); while if the two words are taken separately the meaning would be “on the fortieth, in autumn.” Sâyaṇa and Western scholars have adopted the first construction, and understand the passage to mean, “Indra found Shambara dwelling on the mountains in the fortieth autumn, that is, in the fortieth year”; for the words indicating seasons, like Vasant (spring), Sharad (autumn), or Hemanta (winter), are understood to denote a year, especially when used with a numeral adjective meaning more than one. This construction is grammatically correct, for chatvâriṁshyâm and sharadi being both in the feminine gender and in the locative case, the two words can be taken together, and understood to mean “in the fortieth autumn or year.” But what are we to understand by the statement, that Shambara was found in the fortieth year by Indra? Are we to suppose that India was engaged in searching out the demon for 40 years, and it was only at the end of this long period that the enemy was, at last, found dwelling on the mountains? If so, Indra’s conflict with Shambara cannot be daily or yearly, but must be supposed to have taken place only once in 40 years, an inference, which is directly opposed to the statement (X, 62, 2) that “Vala was killed at the end of the year (parivatsare).” Some scholars try to get out of the difficulty by suggesting that the passage * Ṛig. II, 12, 11, — यः शम्बरं पर्वतेषु कषियन्तं चत्वारिंश्यां शरद्यन्वविन्दत । ओजायमानं यो अहिं जघान दानुं शयानंस. ज. इ. ॥ |
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may be taken as referring to a famine or drought that occurred after 40 years, or that it may represent a forty years’ war between the Aryans protected by Indra, and Shambara, the chief of the aboriginal races dwelling on the mountains! But both these explanations are too far-fetched and imaginary to deserve any serious attention or refutation. The story of Shambara is mentioned in a number of places in the Ṛig-Veda, and everywhere it represents Indra’s conflict with Vṛitra.* It is, therefore, preposterous to hold that a forty years’ war with the aborigines is referred to in this single passage, especially when the passage is capable of being interpreted differently without straining the words used. It is the most ordinary Sanskrit idiom to use the locative case in mentioning the month, the day, the season or the year, when a particular incident is said to have taken place. Thus, even now, we say, “Kârttike, shukla-pakṣhe, trayodashyâm,” meaning “in the month of Kârttika, in the bright half, on the thirteenth (tithi or day).” The feminine ordinal numerals, like chaturthî, ekâdashi, trayodashi, are always used, without any noun, to denote the tithi or the day of the month, or the fortnight, as the case may be. Thus in the Taittirîya Brâhmaṇa (I, 1, 9, 10), we have the expression “yadi saṁvatsare na âdadhyât dvâdashyâm purastât âdadhyât,” meaning that, “if the sacrificial fire is not consecrated at the end of the year (saṁvatsare), it should be consecrated on the twelfth (dvâdashyâm) afterwards.” Here dvâdashyâm is a feminine ordinal in the locative case used by itself, and means “on the twelfth tithi or day” after the end of the year mentioned in the preceding sentence. Chatvâriṁshyâm, in the Vedic passage under discussion, may be similarly taken to denote the fortieth tithi or day, and sharadi the season at the time, the two words being taken as independent locatives. The passage would then mean “Indra found Shambara dwelling on the mountains on the fortieth (scil. tithi) in autumn.” * See the Nivids, quoted supra (p. 246). Shambra-hatya or the fight with Shambara, and go-iṣhṭi or the struggle for cows are declared to be, the one and the same in these nivids. |
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Now Sharad is the fourth season of the year, and the fortieth day of Sharad would mean seven months and ten days, or 220 days, after the first day of Vasanta or the spring, which commenced the year in old times. In short, the passage means that Indra’s fight with Shambera, or the annual conflict between light and darkness, commenced on the tenth day of the eighth month of the year, or on the 10th of October, if we take the year to have then commenced with March, the first month in the old Roman calendar. In I, 165, 6, Viṣhṇu, like a rounded wheel, is said to have set in swift motion his ninety racing steeds together with the four, and the reference is evidently to a year of four seasons of ninety days each. If we accept this division, each season would be of three months’ duration, and Sharad being the third (cf, X, 90, 6), the fortieth day of Sharad would still mean the 10th day of the eighth month of the year. The passage thus gives the very date of Indra’s annual fight with Vṛitra; and if it had been correctly understood, much useless speculation about the nature of Vṛitra’s legend would have been avoided. We have seen previously that the seven Âdityas, or monthly Sun-gods, the sons of Aditi, were presented by her to the gods in a former yuga, and that she cast away the eighth, Mârtâṇḍa, because he was born in an undeveloped state. In other words, the Sun-god of the eighth month is here said to have died soon after he was born, evidently meaning, that the Sun went below the horizon in the beginning of the eighth month; and by fixing the date of the commencement of Indra’s fight with Vṛitra as the fortieth day in Sharad, or the 10th day of the eighth month, we arrive at the same conclusion. The legend of Aditi and the date of the commencement of Indra’s fight with Shambara, as given in II, 12, 11, thus corroborate each other in a remarkable way; and as the current interpretation of the passage does not yield any intelligible sense, there is no course left for us but to accept the only other possible interpretation. According to this interpretation Sharad becomes the last season of sunshine, and it may be here remarked that the etymological |
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meaning of the word further supports the same view. For Sharad is derived from shṛi, to wither or waste away (Uṇâdi 127), and the word thus primarily signifies the “season of decay or withering”; and the decay here referred to is evidently the-decay of the power of the sun, and not the withering of grass, as suggested by Sâyaṇa in his commentary on III, 32, 9. Thus we find in the Taittirîya Saṁhitâ, II, 1, 2, 5, that “There are three lusters or powers of the sun; one in Vasanta, that is, in the morning; one in Grîṣhma or the mid. day; and one in Sharad or the evening.”* We cannot suppose that the words, morning, mid-day and evening, are here used in their primary sense. The three stages of the day represented by them are predicated of the yearly sun, and Sharad is said to be the evening, i.e., the time of decline in his yearly course. It follows, therefore, that after Sharad there was no period of sunshine in ancient times; and a Vedic passage,† quoted by Shabara in his commentary on Jaimini Sutras VI, 7, 40, says, “The sun is all the seasons; when it is morning (uditi), it is Vasanta: when the milking time (saṇgava) it is Grîṣhma; when mid-day (madhyan-dina), it is Varṣhâ; when evening (aparâhṇa), it is Sharad; when it sets (astam eti), it is the dual season of Hemanta and Shishira.” If this passage has any meaning, it shows that the powers of the sun declined in Sharad, and the end of Sharad (autumn) therefore, represented his annual succumbing to the powers of the darkness; or, in short, to dual season of Hemanta and Shishira represented the long night when the sun went below the horizon. It may also be mentioned that the word himyâ (lit. wintry) is used in the Ṛig-Veda for night (I, 34, 1), implying * Taitt. Sam. II, 1, 2, 5. Also compare Taitt. Sam. II, 1, 4, 2. |
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that the wintry season was the season of special darkness. But it may be urged that we have no authority for holding that, in ancient days, time was reckoned simply by seasons and days; and chatvâriṁshyâm sharadi cannot, therefore, be interpreted to mean “On the 40th (day) in Sharad.” The objection is not, however, well-founded; for in ancient inscriptions we find many instances where dates of events are recorded only by reference to seasons. Thus in the book on the Inscriptions from the Cave-Temples of Western India, by Dr. Burgess and Pandit Bhagwânlâl Indrâji, published by the Government of Bombay in 1881, the date of inscription No. 14 is given as follows: — “Of king (rano) Vâsiṭhîputa, the illustrious lord (sâmi-siri) [Pulumâyi] in the year seventh (7), of Grîṣhma the fifth (5) fortnight, and first (1) day.” Upon this Dr. Burgess remarks that “the mention of the 5th fortnight of Grîṣhma shows that the year was not divided into six seasons (ṛitu) but into three, namely, Grîṣhma, Varṣhâ and Hemanta.” But what is important for our purpose in this inscription is the method of giving the date by seasons, fortnights and days, without any reference to the month. This inscription is followed in the same book by others, one of which (No. 20) is thus dated: — “In the twenty-fourth year (24) of the king Vâsithîputa, the illustrious Puḷumâyi, in the third (3) fortnight of the winter (Hemanta) months, on the second (2) day”; and another is said to be inscribed “On the tenth day, in the sixth fortnight of Grîṣhma, in the eighth year of king Mâḍhariputta, the lord Sîrisena.” Dr. Bhâṇḍârkar, in his Early History of the Deecan, has ascertained that Mâḍhariputta reigned in the Mahârâṣhtṛa from about A.D. 190 to 197, and Puḷumâyi was on the throne of the Mahârâṣhtṛa |
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about 60 years earlier, that is, from A.D. 130 to 154. All the inscriptions noted above, therefore, belong to the 2nd century of the Christian era, that is, a long time before the date of Ârya Bhaṭṭa or Varâhamihira, whose works seem so have established, if not introduced, the present system of measuring time by seasons, months, fortnights and days. It is, therefore, clear that eighteen hundred years ago, dates or events were recorded and ascertained by mentioning only the season, the fortnight and the day of the fortnight, without any reference to the month of the year; and we might very well suppose that several centuries before this period these dates were given by a still more simple method, namely, by mentioning only the season and the day of that season. And, as a matter of fact, we do find this method of measuring time, viz., by seasons and days, adopted in the Avesta to mark the particular days of the year. Thus in the Âfrigân Gâhanbâr (I, 7-12), as written in some manuscripts mentioned by Westergaard in his notes ort the Âfrigân, there is a statement of the different rewards which a Mazdayasnian receives in the next life for what he gives as present in this to the Ratu (religious head); and we have therein such expressions as “On the 45th (day) of Maidhyô-Zaremya, i.e., on (the day) Dae of (the month) Ardibehest;” or “On the 60th (day) of Maidhyôshma, i.e., on (the day) Da |