{"id":2375,"date":"2013-07-13T01:41:13","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:41:13","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=2375"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:41:13","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:41:13","slug":"28-kalidasa-appendix-vol-01-early-cultural-writings","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/03-cwsa\/01-early-cultural-writings\/28-kalidasa-appendix-vol-01-early-cultural-writings","title":{"rendered":"-28_Kalidasa – Appendix.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"
\n\n\n
\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tAPPENDIX <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tALTERNATIVE AND UNUSED PASSAGES
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tAND FRAGMENTS <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t1
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t[An early fragment<\/i>] <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tKalidasa does best in more complicated & grandiose metres where his majesty of sound and subtle power of harmony have
\nmost opportunity; his treatment of the Anustubh is massive
\n& noble, but compares unfavourably with the inexhaustible flexibility of Valmekie and the nervous ease of Vyasa.
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t2 <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t[Alternative opening to “The Historical Method”<\/i>]
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tKalidasa <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tOf Kalidasa the man we are fortunate to know nothing beyond
\nwhat we can gather from the evidence of his own writings. There
\nare many anecdotes current throughout India that have gathered
\naround his name, some of them witty, some merely ribald, some
\npurely strokes of scholastic ingenuity; they differ little in character from the stock facetiae which are associated with the name of
\nfamous jesters & wits like Akbar’s Rajah Birbal; in any case the ascription to Kalidasa is fanciful and arbitrary. Even the date of
\nour chief classical poet is a subject for the unprofitable ingenuity
\nof scholars; fixed yesterday in the 11th century B.C. , today in the ..
\nsixth, tomorrow in the 3d, there seems to be not even a remote ..
\nprospect of any finality in the matter. Even to this day no valid
\nreason has been alleged for questioning the traditional ascription
\nof Kalidasa to the 1st century B.C. , a date with which nothing<\/span><\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 264<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tin his poetry is inconsistent; on the contrary there is much that seems to demand it.
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t3 <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t[Passages from the manuscript of “The Seasons -I: Its<\/i>
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tAuthenticity” that Sri Aurobindo did not include in the<\/i>
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tpublished version.<\/i>]
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe Seasons <\/span> <\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tEarly and immature work of a great poet of which the authenticity is not put beyond doubt by definite external evidence, is
\nalways the especial joy of scholars, for it gives an opening to
\nthe spirit of denial which is the life-breath of scholastic criticism. To show original scholarship by denying what the past has believed, is easy and congenial, but to establish one’s originality by
\npositive & helpful criticism is not so readily done. No one has
\nsuffered more in this respect at the hands of European scholars
\nthan Kalidasa, about whom we have no external evidence until
\nthe artificial revival of Sanscrit literature in the later centuries of
\nthe first millennium of the Christian era. Some
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t* <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tKalidasa’s authorship of his earliest extant poem has been first
\nquestioned in very recent times by a number of European Sanscritists. It is doubtful whether the spirit of modern criticism, restless, revolutionary, & prizing novelty and inventiveness above
\ntruth, is superior in all respects to the saner if less subtle outlook
\nof older scholarship. <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t*
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe old criticism was cautious and quiet, seldom
\n\t\t\tdoubting tradition, except under strong justifying reasons. Modern
\n\t\t\tscholarship on the contrary is ready to pursue the most fleeting
\n\t\t\twill-o’-the-wisp <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 265<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tof theory across the deepest morasses of assumption and petitio principii and once in pursuit shows a radical violence and obstinacy of prejudice to which the prejudice of the conservative is vacillating and feeble. New theories are born with
\neach revolution of the seasons and each while it lasts is dogmatically & even hotly asserted as alone consistent with sane and
\nenlightened scholarship. The arguments which are <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t*
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe Seasons is the only production included in the reasonable
\ncanon of his work which justifies the slightest doubt as to its
\nauthenticity. There is a marked difference between this and
\nthe rest of Kalidasa’s admitted poetry, consisting mainly in a
\ngreat inferiority of artistic execution and a far cruder yet not
\nabsolutely dissimilar verse & diction which sounds like a rough
\nsketch for the mighty style & movement of Kalidasa. If it is not
\nthen an early work of the poet, it must be either a production of
\nan earlier poet who influenced Kalidasa or of a later poet who
\nimitated him. The first hypothesis is hardly credible, unless the
\nwriter died young; for it is otherwise impossible that the author of such a work as the Seasons should have executed no later &
\nriper work of a more ambitious & enduring character. A similar
\ndifficulty attends though to a less degree the second alternative;
\na poet who could catch some of the finest characteristics of so
\ngreat a model without slavishly copying his best work, must
\nhave had in him the capacity for much more serious and lasting
\naccomplishment. On the other hand
\n<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t* <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe imagination of the West has not been trained to recognize
\nthat the body is an entity different and initially independent of the spirit within. Yet such a division helps materially to the
\nproper understanding of man & is indeed essential to it unless we
\nrule out a great mass of recorded experience as false or illusory.
\nEach cell out of which the body is built has a life of its own and   <\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 266<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\ttherefore tendencies of its own. These tendencies are largely, if
\nnot entirely determined by heredity. The spirit too comes into
\nthe womb with an individuality already determined, a future
\ndevelopment already built up; and its struggle is to impose the
\nlaw of that individuality and that development on the plasm of
\nmatter in which it has to encase itself. It is naturally attracted
\nto birth in a race & a family where the previous dispositions
\nare favourable to the production of a suitable body; and in the
\ncase of great minds this is oftenest where attempts at genius have occurred before, attempts which being unsuccessful have
\nnot unfrequently led to madness & physical or moral disease
\nresulting from the refusal of the body to bear the strain of the
\nspirit. Even from the womb it struggles to impose itself on the
\nembryonic plasm, to build up the cells of the brain to its liking
\nand stamp its individuality on every part of the body. Throughout childhood and youth the struggle proceeds; the spirit not so
\nmuch developing itself, as developing the body into an image of itself, accustoming the body to express it & respond to its
\nimpulses as a musical instrument responds to the finger of the
\nperformer. And therefore it is that the Upanishad speaks of the
\nbody as the harp of the spirit. Hence natural gifts are much more
\nvaluable and work with much more freedom and power than
\nacquired; for when we acquire, we are preparing fresh material for our individuality in another existence; when we follow our
\ngifts, we are using what we have already prepared for this. In
\nthe first case we are painful & blundering learners, in the second
\nto the extent we have prepared ourselves, masters. This process of subjecting the personality of the body to the personality of
\nthe spirit, of finding one’s self, lasts for various periods with
\nvarious men. But it is seldom really over before the age of 30 in
\nmen of a rich and varied genius, and even afterwards they never cease sounding themselves still farther, finding fresh possibilities,
\ndeveloping mightier masteries, until the encasing plasm wears
\naway with the strain of life. The harp grows old & shabby, the
\nstrings are worn and frayed, the music deteriorates or ceases,
\nand finally the spirit breaks & throws away its instrument and
\ndeparts to assimilate its experiences and acquirements for a fresh  
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 267<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\texistence. But that the man of genius may successfully find himself, he must have fit opportunities, surroundings, influences,
\ntraining. If he is not favoured with these, the genius will remain but it will be at the mercy of its body; it will express its body
\nand not its self. The most famous ballads, those which never
\nperish, have been written by such thwarted geniuses. Although
\nthe influence of romanticism has made it a literary fashion to
\ncouple these ballads with Homer, yet in truth ballad-writing is the lowest form of the poetical art; its method is entirely sensational.
\nThe impact of outward facts on the body is carried through the
\nvital principle, the sensational element in man, to the mind, and
\nmind obediently answers the knocking outside, photographs the
\nimpression with force & definiteness. But there has been no
\nexercise of the higher faculty of understanding, considering,
\nchoosing, moulding what it receives. Hence the bare force & realism which so powerfully attracts in the best ballads; but this
\nforce is very different from the high strength and this involuntary
\nrealism very different from the artistic imaginative & self-chosen
\nrealism of great poetry. There is the same difference as separates
\nbrilliant melodrama from great tragedy. Another sign of the
\nundeveloped self is uncertainty of work. There are some poets
\nwho live by a single poem. In some moment of exaltation, of
\nrapt excitement the spirit throws off for a moment the bonds of
\nthe flesh and compels the body to obey it. This is what is vulgarly
\ntermed inspiration. Everyone who has felt this state of mind, can
\nrecall its main features. There is a sudden exaltation, a glow, an
\nexcitement and a fiery and rapid activity of all the faculties;
\nevery cell of the body & of the brain feeling a commotion and
\nworking in excited unison under the law of something which is not themselves; the mind itself becomes illuminated as with a
\nrush of light and grows like a crowded and surging thoroughfare in some brilliantly lighted city, thought treading on the heels of
\nthought faster than the tongue can express or the hand write or the memory record them. And yet while the organs of sense
\nremain overpowered and inactive, the main organs of action may be working with abnormal rapidity, not only the speech and the
\nhand but sometimes even the feet, so that often the writer cannot  
\n\t\t\t<\/span> <\/font><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 268<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\nremain still, but has to walk up and down swiftly or if he sits
\ndown, is subject to an involuntary mechanical movement of the
\nlimbs. When this state reaches beyond bounds, when the spirit
\nattempts to impose on the mind & body work for which they are
\nnot fitted, the result is, in the lower human organisms insanity, in the higher epilepsy. In this state of inspiration every thought
\nwears an extraordinary brilliance and even commonplace ideas
\nstrike one as God-given inspirations. But at any rate the expression they take whether perfect or not is superior to what
\nthe same man could compass in his ordinary condition. Ideas
\n& imaginations throng on the mind which one is not aware of
\nhaving formerly entertained or even prepared for; some even
\nseem quite foreign to our habit of mind. The impression we
\nget is that thoughts are being breathed into us, expressions dictated, the whole poured in from outside; the saints who spoke to
\nJoan of Arc, the daemon of Socrates, Tasso’s familiar, the Angel Gabriel
\n\t\t\tdictating the Koran to Mahomet are only exaggerated developments of
\n\t\t\tthis impression due to an epileptic, maniac or excited state of the
\n\t\t\tmind; and this, as I have already suggested, is itself due to the
\n\t\t\tpremature attempts of the Spirit to force the highest work on the
\n\t\t\tbody.<\/font>1<\/font><\/sup>
\n\t\t\tMahomet’s idea that in his epileptic fits he went up into the
\n\t\t\tseventh heaven & took the Koran from the lips of God, is extremely
\n\t\t\tsignificant;<\/font>2<\/sup><\/font> if Caesar & Richelieu
\nhad been Oriental prophets instead of practical & sceptical Latin statesmen they might well have recorded kindred impressions. In any case such an impression is purely sensational. It is always
\nthe man’s own spirit that is speaking, but the sensational part of him feeling that it is working blindly in obedience to some
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t1 Sri Aurobindo wrote the following passage at the top of two pages of the manuscript.<\/i>
\nHe did not mark its place of insertion. A piece of the manuscript is broken off at the<\/i>
\nbeginning; “supported by” is a conjectural reconstruction<\/i>:
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tThe fact, [supported by] overwhelming evidence, that Jeanne could foretell the immediate future in all matters affecting her mission, does not militate against this theory;
\npast, present & future are merely conventions of the mind, to the spirit time is but one,
\ntomorrow as present as today. At the same time I do not wish to exclude the possibility of supracorporeal beings outside her own guiding Jeanne within the limits of her mission;
\nthe subject is too profound & subtle a problem to be settled offhand.
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t2 Sri Aurobindo put a question mark beside this clause in his manuscript.
\n<\/i>–Ed.<\/i>
\n  
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 269<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\nirresistible power which is not itself, conveys to the mind an
\nerroneous impression that the power comes from outside, that it
\nis an inspiration and not an inner process; for it is as naturally the
\nimpulse of the body as of the mind to consider itself
\nthe <\/i>self of the
\norganism and all impressions & impulses not of its own sphere as exterior to the organism. If the understanding happens to be
\nfirm and sane, it refuses to encourage the mind in its error, but if
\nthe understanding is overexcited or is not sufficiently master of
\nits instruments, it easily allows itself to be deluded. Now when
\nthe spirit is no longer struggling with the body, but has become its
\nmaster and lord, this state of inspiration ceases to be fortuitous
\nand occasional, and becomes more and more within the will of
\nthe man and, subject to the necessarily long intervals of repose & recreation, almost a habitually recurring state. At the same
\ntime it loses its violent & abnormal character and the outward
\nsymptoms of it disappear; the outer man remains placid and
\nthe mind works with great power and illumination indeed, but
\nwithout disturbance or loss of equilibrium. In the earlier stages
\nthe poet swears & tears his hair if a fly happens to be buzzing
\nabout the room; once he has found himself, he can rise from his
\npoem, have a chat with his wife or look over & even pay his bills
\nand then resume his inspiration as if nothing had happened. He
\nneeds no stimulant except healthy exercise and can no longer be classed with the genus irritabile vatum;
\n\t\t\tnor does he square any better with the popular idea that melancholy,
\n\t\t\teccentricity and disease are necessary concomitants of genius.
\n\t\t\tShakespeare, Milton, Dante, Sophocles, Aeschylus, Goethe, the really
\n\t\t\tgreat poets, were men of high sanity -except perhaps in the eyes of
\n\t\t\tthose to whom originality & strong character are in themselves
\n\t\t\tmadness. <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tBut to arrive at this harmony requires time and effort and meanwhile
\n\t\t\tthe work will surely be unequal, often halting, varying between
\n\t\t\tinspiration and failure. Especially will this be the case with a
\n\t\t\trich, many-sided and flexible genius like Kalidasa’s.<\/font>3 <\/font>
\n\t\t\t<\/sup> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t3 passage that follows in the manuscript was incorporated in the final version of<\/i>
\nthe second paragraph of “The Seasons -I: Its Authenticity”. <\/i>–Ed.<\/i>
\n  
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 270<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n4 <\/font> <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t[Alternative and unused passages from the manuscript of<\/i>
\n“<\/i><\/font><\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tVikramorvasie: The Characters”<\/i>] <\/font> <\/span><\/b><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tWe shall now understand why the Opsara is represented as the Hetaira of heaven. They represent all that is sensuous, attractive & voluptuous in the Universe, the element of desire which being
\nunspiritual & non-moral, finds its sphere in the satisfaction of
\nthe sense of beauty and for that satisfaction needs freedom
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t*<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tVishnu, the Almighty Spirit, incarnate in Naraian, the saint and hermit, was meditating in the voiceless solitude of mountains.
\nIndra, always jealous of austerity & sacrifice, sent the Opsaras
\nto allure him & enslave him to the charm of beauty & sensuousness. They came to Naraian in the wilderness and displayed before him all their beauty & every feminine art of conversation,
\nbut in vain. Naraian, with an indulgent smile smote his thigh and produced from it a woman of so shining a loveliness that the
\nbeauty of all the Opsaras together was as nothing to her beauty
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tAccording to this story Naraian, the great Rishi, who is also Vishnu & therefore the type of the World-Saviour when he
\ncomes in the guise of the Ascetic, was meditating in the Himalayas. Indra, always hostile to ascetism, always distrustful
\nof the contemplative & philosophic mind, sent the Opsaras to break down the concentration of Naraian’s mind and lure him into sensuous feeling. They were the fairest of the
\n\t\t\tworld-sisters who went and they displayed before Naraian their most marvellous grace and their sweetest words & arts. So the World Saviour smiled and from his thigh there sprang all the beauty of sensuous
\nexistence concentrated into a single form. Then the temptresses
\ncovered their faces with their veils & silently returned to heaven.
\nThus was born Urvasie, she that lay hid in the thigh of the
\nSupreme.
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t*   <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 271<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\nThe grace of childhood seems to have had a charm for the mind of Kalidasa; for whenever he introduces a child it is with a double
\nmeasure of his magical felicity and naturalness. There is a child in each of his plays; the princess Vasuluxmie in Malavica does
\nnot appear on the stage in the course of the play, yet she twice
\nintervenes with considerable effect in its action, and each time
\nwhat a delightful fragrance of home, of the beauty and innocence and loveableness of childhood, comes breathing about the
\nscene. It is part of the marvellous genius of Kalidasa that packing beauty into each word he writes with so little he can suggest so
\nmuch. In Ayus we find not quite the same beauty, but the same
\ntender and skilful portraiture and the same loving knowledge
\nof child nature. It seems to me that in two respects at least
\nKalidasa far surpasses Shakespeare, in knowledge of a mother’s
\nheart, in knowledge of the child. Shakespeare’s mothers, and
\nhow few of them there are! are either null or intolerable. In only
\none of his plays does Shakespeare really attempt to give us a
\nmother’s heart and a child. But Arthur is not a success, he is
\ntoo voulu, too much dressed up for pathos, too eloquent and full of unchildlike sentimentality & posing. Children are fond
\nof posing and children are sentimental, but not in that way. As for the Princes in King Henry VI and Richard III no real lover of children could endure them; one feels almost thankful to the crookback for mercifully putting them out of the way.
\nNor is Constance a sympathetic figure; her shrieking, her rant,
\nher selfishness, her bold and bitter volubility, could Shakespeare
\ngive us no sweeter & truer picture of a mother? <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t*
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\tUrvasie seems at first sight to be deficient in feeling; she sends Ayus away from her at his birth & though there is an indication
\nthat she must have visited him occasionally, yet long years of
\nseparation are also implied which she appears to have borne
\nwith some equanimity. In reality she has no choice. By keeping
\nhim she would lose both husband & child, by
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\t*   <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 2<\/font>72<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n

\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\nUrvasie sends Ayus away from her at his birth, but it is as the
\nchoice between a mixed evil and an unmixed calamity; in sending
\nhim away she only anticipates the inevitable separation between a royal child & his parents which the necessity of education in
\nthe forest always imposed;<\/font>4<\/font><\/sup> by keeping him she would lose both
\nhim and her husband. He returns to her & the mother in her at
\nonce wakes to life “her veiled bosom heaving towards him and
\nwet with sacred milk”; so in her joy over her son she even forgets
\nthe impending separation from the husband who is all in all to
\nher. It is consistent with Kalidasa’s conception of her that she
\nsays little or nothing to show her depth of emotion but reveals it rather by her actions & little side touches in her speech.
\n\t\t\t<\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t <\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t4 Urvasie’s words “How he has grown” imply that she must have secretly seen him in the hermitage several times after his birth, though necessarily not for many years, since
\nonce the boy’s education began such visits would necessarily cease.   <\/font> <\/span><\/p>\n

\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t
\n\t\t\t\t\t\tPage \u2013 273<\/font><\/span><\/p>\n<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n<\/div>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

APPENDIX   ALTERNATIVE AND UNUSED PASSAGES AND FRAGMENTS   1   [An early fragment]   Kalidasa does best in more complicated & grandiose metres where…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[49],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-2375","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-01-early-cultural-writings","wpcat-49-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2375","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2375"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2375\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2375"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2375"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2375"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}