Lightness and heaviness

Re(re)ading Gwendolyn Lane’s translation of Bāṇabhaṭṭa’s masterpiece Kādambarī, I suddenly recalled a fascinating anecdote about how Bāṇa decided to permit his son Bhūṣaṇa to complete the work. I fear I cannot remember the source of the tale.

The story goes that Bāṇa was on his deathbed without having completed the Kādambarī, and wished to entrust one of his sons with the job of finishing it. But how to decide which one would be worthy of the challenge? He called them both to his bed, and, pointing to a small stack of firewood nearby, asked them to describe it.

The elder son (whose name escapes me, and perhaps history too) said: 

śuṣkaṃ kāṣṭhaṃ tiṣṭhaty agre

“A dry piece of wood stands in front.” 

The younger, by name Bhūṣaṇa, came up with this: 

nīrasa-tarur iha vilasati purataḥ

“A sapless tree manifests itself before me.”

Both statements are factually correct, but only Bhūṣaṇa’s possesses the lightness (lāghava) and multiplicity of meaning that Bāṇa so prized in his work. Specifically:

• The two statements are both 16 morae long, but Bhuṣaṇa’s version crams 14 syllables in by using light syllables throughout (except at the beginning and the end). His brother’s, on the other hand, uses 8 syllables, each one heavy.
• The elder brother’s statement attempts to repeat ṣ in three consonant clusters, but two of these are the same, being the heavy and somewhat unattractive ṣṭh cluster. Bhūṣaṇa does not have any clusters at all, but lightly dances amidst repetitions of s, t, l, and r.
• Bhūṣaṇa’s first word, nīrasa, evokes the literary concept of rasa (about which Amazons’ worth of paper and Superiors’ worth of ink have been spilled).
• Bhūṣaṇa’s statement can be understood as referring not just to the firewood that his father has asked about, but also to his elder brother who lacked literary judgement but who stood before him in time and in the hierarchy of the Indian family.

Bhūṣaṇa was given the privilege of completing Bāṇa’s work. Scholars hold, however, that his effort lacks the mastery of his father’s. History is the harshest critic of all.