{"id":52,"date":"2013-07-13T01:25:34","date_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:25:34","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/localhost\/?p=52"},"modified":"2013-07-13T01:25:34","modified_gmt":"2013-07-13T01:25:34","slug":"31-kalidasas-seasons-vol-03-the-harmony-of-virtue-volume-03","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/01-works-of-sri-aurobindo\/01-sabcl\/03-the-harmony-of-virtue-volume-03\/31-kalidasas-seasons-vol-03-the-harmony-of-virtue-volume-03","title":{"rendered":"-31_Kalidasa’s Seasons.htm"},"content":{"rendered":"\n\n
\n

\n
\nKalidasa’<\/span>s<\/span> "Seasons"<\/span><\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n
\nI. ITS AUTHENTICITY<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nT<\/font><\/b>HE
\n<\/b><\/font>
\n Seasons<\/i> of Kalidasa is one of those
\nearly works of a great poet which are even more interesting to a
\nstudent of his evolution than his later masterpieces. We see his characteristic
\ngift even in the immature workmanship and uncertain touch and can distinguish the persistent personality in
\nspite of the defective self-expression. Where external record is
\nscanty, this interest is often disturbed by the question of authenticity and where there is any excuse for the doubt, it has first to
\nbe removed. The impulse which leads us to deny authenticity
\nto early and immature work is natural and almost inevitable. When we turn from
\nthe great harmonies and victorious imaginations of the master to the raw and
\nperhaps faltering workmanship of these uncertain beginnings, we are irresistibly impelled to
\ncry out, "This is not by the same hand." But the impulse, however natural, is not always reasonable. The maxim that a poet
\nis born and not made is only true in the sense that great poetical
\npowers are there in the mind of the child and in this sense the
\nsame remark might be applied with no less truth to every species
\nof human genius; philosophers, sculptors, painters, critics, orators, statesmen are all born and not made. But because poetical
\ngenius is rarer or, at any rate, wider and more lasting in its appeal
\nthan any other, the popular mind with its ready gift for seizing
\none aspect of truth out of many and crystallising error into the
\nform of a proverb, has exalted the poet into a splendid freak of
\nNature exempt from the general law. If a man without the
\ninborn oratorical fire may be trained into a good speaker or another without the master’s inspiration of form and colour work
\nout for himself a blameless technique, so too may a meagre talent
\nbecome by diligence a machine for producing elegant verse.
\nBut poetic genius needs experience and self-discipline as much as
\nany other and by its very complexity more than most. This is
\neminently true of great poets with a varied gift. A narrow though<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n

\na high faculty works best on a single line and may show perfection at an early stage; but powerful and complex minds like
\nShakespeare or Kalidasa seldom find themselves before a more
\nadvanced period. Their previous work is certain to be full of
\npower, promise and genius, but it will also be flawed, unequal
\nand often imitative. This imperfection arises naturally from
\nthe greater difficulty in imposing the law of harmony of their
\nvarious gifts on the bodily case which is the instrument of the
\nspirit’s self-expression. To arrive at this harmony requires time
\nand effort and meanwhile the work will often be halting and unequal, varying between inspiration expressed and the failure of
\nvision or expression.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThere is no more many-sided, rich and flexible genius in
\nliterature than Kalidasa’s, and in his case especially we must be
\non our guard against basing denial of authenticity on imperfection and minor
\ndifferences. We have to judge, first, by the presence or absence of the essential and indefinable self of Kalidasa
\nwhich we find apparent in all his indubitable work, however various the form or
\nsubject, and after that on those nameable characteristics which are the grain and fibre of his genius and least
\nimitable by others. In the absence of external evidence, which is
\nin itself of little value unless received from definite and contemporary or almost contemporary sources, the test of personality
\nis all-important. Accidents and details are only useful as corroborative evidence, for these are liable to variation and imitation;<\/font>
\n<\/font>but personality is a distinguishable and permanent presence as
\nfugitive to imitation as to analysis. Even a slight fineness of
\nliterary palate can perceive the difference between the Nalodaya
\n<\/i>and Kalidasa’s genuine work. Not only does it belong to an age
\nor school in which poetic taste was debased and artificial, \u2014 for
\nit is a poetical counterpart of those prose works for whose
\nexistence the display of scholarship seems to be the chief justification, \u2014 but
\nit presents in this matter of personality and persistent characteristics no sufficient point of contact either with
\nthe Shacountala<\/i> or the Kumarsambhava<\/i> or even with the House
\nof Raghu<\/i>. But in the Seasons<\/i>, Kalidasa’s personality is distinctly
\nperceived as well as his main characteristics, his force of
\nvision, his architecture of style, his pervading sensuousness, the<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n

\npeculiar temperament of his similes, his characteristic strokes of
\nthought and imagination, his individual and inimitable cast
\nof description. Much of it is as yet in a half-developed state,
\ncrude consistence, not yet fashioned with the masterly touch
\nhe soon manifested, but Kalidasa is there quite as evidently
\nas Shakespeare in his earlier work, the Venus and Adonis<\/i> or Lucrece<\/i>. Defects which the riper Kalidasa avoids, are not uncommon in this poem, \u2014 repetition of ideas, use of more words
\nthan are absolutely required, haphazard recurrence of words
\nand phrases, not to produce a designed effect but from carelessness, haste or an insufficient vocabulary; there is, moreover, a
\nconstant sense of uncertainty in the touch and a frequent lack of
\nfinished design. The poet has been in too much haste to vent his
\nsense of poetic power and not sufficiently careful that the expression should be the best he could compass. And yet immature,
\ngreatly inferior in chastity and elegance to his best work, marred
\nby serious faults of conception, bearing evidence of hurry and
\nslovenliness in the execution, the Seasons<\/i> is, for all this, not only
\nsuffused by a high though unchastened beauty, but marked
\nwith many of the distinctive signs of Kalidasa’s strong and exuberant genius. The defects are those natural to the early work
\nof a rich sensuous temperament, eagerly conscious of poetic
\npower but not yet instructed and chastened.<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nII. THE SUBSTANCE OF THE POEM<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nKalidasa’s Seasons<\/i> is perhaps the first poem in any literature
\nwritten with the express object of describing Nature. It is precisely similar in its aim to a well-known eighteenth-century
\nfailure in the same direction \u2014 Thomson’s Seasons<\/i>. The names
\ntally, the forms correspond, both poems adopting the plan of
\ndevoting a canto to each season, and the method so far agrees
\nthat the poets have attempted to depict each season in its principal peculiarities, scenes and characteristic incidents. But here
\nall parallel ends. Wide as the gulf between the genius of one of
\nthe greatest world-poets and the talent of the eighteenth-century
\nversifier is the difference between the gathered strength and com-<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n\u2013 252<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\npact force, the masterly harmonies and the living truth of the
\nancient Indian poem and the diffuse artificiality and rhetoric of
\nthe  modern counterpart. And the difference of spirit is not less.
\nA poet of the prosaic and artificial age when the Anglo-Saxon
\nmind emerged in England and got itself Gallicised, Thomson was
\nunable to grasp the first psychological laws of such descriptive
\npoetry. He fixed his eye on the object, but he could only see the
\noutside of it. Instead of creating he tried to photograph. And he
\ndid not remember or did not know that Nature is nothing to
\npoetry except in so far as it is either a frame, setting or ornament
\nto life or else a living presence to the spirit. Nature interpreted by
\nWordsworth as a part of his own and the universal consciousness,
\nby Shakespeare as an accompaniment or note in the orchestral
\nmusic of life, by more modern poets as an element of decoration
\nin the living world-picture is possible in poetry; as an independent but dead existence it has no place either in the world itself
\nor in the poet’s creation. In his relations to the external, life and
\nmind are the man, the senses being only instruments, and what
\nhe seeks outside himself is a response in kind to his own deeper
\nreality. What the eye gathers is only important in so far as it is
\nrelated to this real man or helps this expectation to satisfy itself. Kalidasa with his fine artistic feeling, his vitality and warm humanism and his profound sense of what true poetry must be,
\nappears to have divined from the beginning the true place of
\nNature in the poet’s outlook. He is always more emotional and
\nintellectual than spiritual, like Shakespeare to whom he has so
\nmany striking resemblances. We must not expect from him the
\nmagical insight of Valmiki, still less the spiritual discernment of
\nWordsworth. He looks inside, but not too far inside. But he
\nrealises always the supreme importance of life as the only abiding foundation of a poem’s immortality.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nThe first canto is surcharged with the life of men and animals and the life of trees and plants in summer. It sets ringing a
\nnote of royal power and passion and promises a poem of unexampled vigour and interest. But to play variations on this note
\nthrough six cantos seems to have been beyond the young poet’s
\nas yet limited experience and narrow imaginative mastery. He fell
\nback on the life of sensuous passion with images of which, no<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n

\ndoubt, his ungoverned youth was most familiar. But instead of
\nworking them into the main thought he turned to them for a prop
\nand, when his imaginative memory failed him, multiplied them
\nto make up the deficiency. This lapse from artistic uprightness
\nbrought its own retribution, as all such lapses will. From one
\nerror indeed Kalidasa’s vigour and aspiring temperament saved
\nhim. He never relaxed into the cloying and effeminate languor
\nof sensuous description which offends us in Keats’ earlier work.
\nThe men of the age with all their sensuousness, luxury and
\nworship of outward beauty were a masculine and strenuous race,
\nand their male and vigorous spirit is as prominent in Kalidasa
\nas his laxer tendencies. His sensuousness is not coupled with
\nweak self-indulgence, but is rather a bold and royal spirit seizing
\nthe beauty and delight of earth to itself and compelling all the
\nsenses to minister to the enjoyment of the spirit rather than enslaving the spirit to do the will of the senses. The difference perhaps amounts to no more than a lesser or greater force of vitality,
\nbut it is, for the purposes of poetry, a real and important difference. The spirit of delightful weakness swooning with excessive
\nbeauty gives a peculiar charm of soft laxness to poems like the Endymion<\/i>, but it is a weakening charm to which no virile temperament will trust itself. The poetry of Kalidasa satisfies the sensuous
\nimagination without enervating the virile chords of character; for virile energy is an unfailing characteristic of the best
\nSanskrit poetry and Kalidasa is inferior to none in this respect.
\nHis artistic error has, nevertheless, had disastrous effects on the
\nsubstance of his poem.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIt is written in six cantos answering to the six Indian seasons,
\nSummer, Rain, Autumn, Winter, Dew and Spring. Nothing
\ncan exceed the splendour and power of the opening. We see the
\npoet revelling in the yet virgin boldness, newness and strength
\nof his genius and confident of winning the kingdom of poetry by
\nviolence. For a time the brilliance of his work seems to justify
\nhis ardour. In the poem on Summer we are at once seized by the
\nmarvellous force of imagination, by the unsurpassed closeness
\nand clear strenuousness of his gaze on the object; in the expression there is a grand and concentrated precision which is our
\nfirst example of the great Kalidasian manner, and an imperial<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n\u2013 254<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\npower, stateliness and brevity of speech which is our first instance
\nof the high classical diction. But this canto stands on a higher
\nlevel than the rest of the poem. It is as if the poet had spent the
\nbest part of his force in his first enthusiasm and kept back an
\ninsufficient reserve for the sustained power proper to a long
\npoem. The decline in energy does not disappoint at first. The
\npoem on the Rains gives us a number of fine pictures with a less
\nvigorous touch but a more dignified restraint and a graver and
\nnobler harmony, and even in the Autumn, where the falling off
\nof vigour becomes very noticeable, there is compensation in a
\nmore harmonious finish of style, management and imagery.
\nWe are led to believe that the poet is finding himself and will
\nrise to a finale of flawless beauty. Then comes disappointment.
\nIn the next two cantos Kalidasa seems to lose hold of the subject; the touches of natural description cease or are, with a few
\nexceptions, perfunctory and even conventional and the full force of
\nhis genius is thrown into a series of extraordinary pictures, as
\nvivid as if actually executed in line and colour, of feminine beauty
\nand sensuous passion. The two elements, never properly fused,
\ncease even to stand side by side. For all description of Winter
\nwe have a few stanzas describing the cold and the appearance of
\nfields, plants, waters in the wintry days, by no means devoid of
\nbeauty but wanting in vigour, closeness of vision and eagerness.
\nIn the poem on Dew-tide the original purpose is even fainter.
\nPerhaps the quietness of these seasons, the absence in them of
\nthe most brilliant pictorial effects and grandest distinctive
\nfeatures, made them a subject uninspiring to the unripeness and
\nlove of violence natural to a richly-endowed temperament in its
\nunschooled youth. But the Spring is the royal season of the
\nIndian year and should have lent itself peculiarly to Kalidasa’s
\ninborn passion for colour, sweetness and harmony. The closing
\ncanto should have been the crown of the poem. But the poet’s
\nsin pursues him and, though we see a distinct effort to recover
\nthe old pure fervour, it is an effort that fails to sustain itself.
\nThere is no falling off in harmonious splendour of sound and
\nlanguage, but the soul of inspired poetic observation ceases to
\ninform this beautiful mould and the close fails and languishes.
\nIt is noticeable that there is a double close to the Spring, the two<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPage <\/font>
\n\u2013 255<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nversions having been left, after the manner of the old editions,
\nside by side. Kalidasa’s strong artistic perception must have
\nsuffered acutely from the sense of failure in inspiration and he
\nhas accordingly attempted to replace the weak close by an improved and fuller
\ncadence. What is, we may presume, the rejected version, is undoubtedly the weaker of the two but neither
\nof them satisfies. The poem on Spring which should have been
\nthe finest, is the most disappointing in the whole series.<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nIII. ITS POETIC VALUE<\/font><\/b><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nNevertheless the Seasons<\/i> is not only an interesting document in
\nthe evolution of a poetic genius of the first rank, but in itself a
\nwork of extraordinary force and immense promise. Many of the
\nmost characteristic Kalidasian gifts and tendencies are here,
\nsome of them in crude and unformed vigour, but characteristic
\nand unmistakable, giving the poem a striking resemblance of
\nspirit and to some extent of form to the House of Raghu<\/i>, with a
\nfar-off prophecy of the mature manner of Kalidasa in the four
\ngreat masterpieces. There is his power of felicitous and vivid
\nsimile; there is the individual turn of his conceits and the single-minded force with which he drives them home; there is his mastering accuracy and life-likeness in description conspicuous
\nespecially in the choice and building of the circumstantial epithets. That characteristic of the poet, not the most fundamental
\nand important, which most struck the ancient critics, upamāsu kālidāsah<\/i>,
\nKalidasa for similes, is everywhere present even in such
\nearly and immature work and already they have the sharp clear
\nKalidasian ring, true coin of his mint though not yet possessed
\nof the later high values. The deep blue midsummer sky is like
\na rich purple mass of ground collyrium; girls with their smiling
\nfaces and lovelit eyes are like "evenings beautifully jewelled with
\nthe moon"; the fires burning in the forest look far-off like clear
\ndrops of vermilion; the new blades of grass are like pieces of
\nsplit emerald; rivers embracing and tearing down the trees on
\ntheir banks are like evil women distracted with passion, slaying
\ntheir lovers. In all these instances we have the Kalidasian simile,<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n\u2013 256<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\na little superficial as yet and
\nself-conscious, but for all that Kalidasian. When again he speaks of the Moon
\ntowards dawn, growing pale with shame at the lovelier brightness of a woman’s face,
\nof the rains coming like the pomp of some great king all blazing with lights,
\nhuge clouds moving along like elephants, the lightning like a streaming banner and the thunder like a peal of drums,
\nof the clouds like archers shooting their rains at the lover from
\nthe rainbow stringed with lightning, one recognises, in spite of
\nthe occasional extravagance of phrase and violent fancifulness,
\nthe Kalidasian form of conceit, not only in the substance which can be borrowed,
\nbut in the wording and most of all in the economy of phrase expressing a lavish and ingenious fancy. Still
\nmore is this apparent in the sensuous and elaborate comparison
\nof things in Nature to women in ornamental attire, \u2014 rivers,
\nautumn, the night, the pale Priyangou creeper.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nMost decisive of all are the strokes of vivid description that
\ngive the poem its main greatness and fulfil its purpose. The seasons live before our eyes as we read. Summer is here with its
\nsweltering heat, the sunbeams burning like fires of sacrifice and
\nthe earth swept with whirling gyres of dust driven by intolerable
\ngusts. Yonder lies the lion forgetting his impulse and his mighty
\nleap; his tongue lolls and wearily from time to time he shakes his
\nmane; the snake with lowered head panting and dragging his
\ncoils labours over the blazing dust of the road; the wild boars
\nare digging in the dried mud with their long snouts, as if they
\nwould burrow their way into the cool earth; the bisons wander
\neverywhere dumbly, desiring water. The forests are grim and
\nparched, brown and sere; and before long they are in the clutch
\nof fire…. But the rains come, and what may be yonder writhing
\nlines we see on the slopes ? It is the young water of the rains, a
\nnew-born rivulet, grey and full of insects and dust and weeds,
\ncoiling like a snake down the hillside. We watch the beauty of
\nthe mountains streaked everywhere with waterfalls, their high
\nrocks kissed by the stooping clouds and their sides a gorgeous
\nchaos of peacocks: on the horizon the great clouds blue as lotus-petals climb hugely into the sky and move across it in slow
\nprocession before a sluggish breeze. Or look at yonder Covidara
\ntree, its branches troubled softly with wind, swarming with<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n

\nhoney-drunken bees and its leaves tender with little opening
\nbuds. The moon at night gazes down at us like an unveiled face
\nin the skies, the racing stream dashes its ripples in the wild-duck’s face, the wind comes trembling through the burdened
\nrice-stalks, dancing with the crowding Courbucs, making one
\nflowery ripple of the lotus-wooded lake. Here there can be no
\nlonger any hesitation. These descriptions which remain perpetually with the eye, visible and concrete as an actual painting,
\nbelong, in the force with which they are visualised and the
\nmagnificent architecture of phrase with which they are presented,
\nto Kalidasa alone among Sanskrit poets. Other poets, his successors or imitators, such as Bana or even Bhavabhuti, overload
\ntheir description with words and details; they have often lavish
\ncolouring but never an equal power of form; their figures do not
\nappear to stand out of the canvas and live.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAnd though we do not find here quite the marvellous harmonies of verse and diction we meet in the Raghu, yet we do come
\nacross plenty of preparation for them. Here, for instance, is a
\nverse whose rapidity and lightness restrained by a certain half-hidden gravity is distinctly Kalidasa’s:<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n"Clinging to the woodland edges the forest fire increases
\nwith the wind and burns in the glens of the mountains; it
\ncrackles with shrill shoutings in the dry bamboo reaches; it
\nspreads in the grasses gathering hugeness in a moment and
\nharasses the beasts of the wilderness."<\/font><\/p>\n

\nAnd, again, for honeyed sweetness and buoyancy what can
\nbe more Kalidasian than this?<\/font><\/p>\n

\n                                                              \n\t<\/p>\n

\n  <\/p>\n

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\n\u2013 258<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\n"The male cuckoo, drunk with wine of the juice of the
\nmango flower, kisses his beloved, glad of the sweet attraction,
\nand here the bee murmuring in the lotus-blossom hums flattery’s
\nsweetness to his sweet."<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nThere are other stanzas which anticipate something of
\nthe ripest Kalidasian movements by their gravity, suavity and
\nstrength:<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\n"Making to tremble the flowering branches of the mango
\ntrees, spreading the cry of the cuckoo in the regions the wind ranges ravishing the hearts of mortals, by the passing of the dew-falls gracious in the springtide."<\/font><\/p>\n

\nIf we take Kalidasa anywhere in his lighter metres we shall
\nat once perceive their essential kinship with the verse of the Seasons<\/i>:<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\n"Already Love torments my mind importunate in prayer for
\na thing unattainable; what shall it be when the woodland mango-trees display
\ntheir buds, a pallid whiteness opening to the southern wind?"<\/font><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

\nIt is the same suave and skilful management, the same
\nexquisite and unobtrusive weaving of labial, dental and liquid assonances with a
\nrecurring sibilant note, the same soft and perfect footing of the syllables. Only the language is richer and
\nmore developed. We do not find this peculiar kind of perfection<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

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\n\u2013 259<\/font><\/p>\n

\n

\nin any other master of classical verse. Bhavabhuti’s manner is
\nbold, strenuous, external; Jayadeva’s music is based palpably
\nupon assonance and alliteration which he uses with extraordinary
\nbrilliance and builds into the most enchanting melodies, but
\nwithout delicacy, restraint or disguise. If there were any real
\ncause for doubt of the authorship, the verse would clearly vindicate the Seasons<\/i> for Kalidasa.<\/font><\/p>\n

\nSuch is this remarkable poem which some, led away by its
\nundoubted splendours, have put in the first rank of Kalidasa’s
\nwork. Its artistic defects and its comparative crudity forbid us to
\nfollow them. <\/b> It is uncertain in plan, ill-fused, sometimes raw in
\nits imagery, unequal in its execution. But for all that, it must
\nhave come upon its contemporaries like the dawning of a new
\nsun in the skies. Its splendid diction and versification, its vigour,
\nfire and force, its sweetness of spirit and its general promise and
\nto some extent actual presentation of a first-rate poetic genius
\nmust have made it a literary event of the first importance. Especially it is
\nsignificant in its daring gift of sensuousness. The prophet of a hedonistic civilisation here seizes with no uncertain
\nhand on the materials of his work. A vivid and virile interpretation of sense-life in Nature, a similar interpretation of all elements
\nof human life capable of greatness of beauty, seen under the light
\nof the senses and expressed in the terms of an aesthetic appreciation, \u2014 this is the spirit of Kalidasa’s first work as it is of his last.
\nAt present he is concerned only with the outward body of Nature, the physical aspects of things, the vital pleasures and emotions, the joy and beauty of the human body; but it is the first
\nnecessary step on the long road of sensuous and poetic experience and expression he has to travel before he reaches his goal
\nin his crowning work, the Birth of the War-God<\/i>, in which he
\ntakes up for treatment one of the supreme fables of the life of the
\nGods and the Cosmos and in its handling combines sublimity
\nwith grace, height of speech with fullness and beautiful harmony
\nof sound, boldness of descriptive line with magnificence of
\nsensuous colour in a degree of perfection never before or afterwards surpassed or even equalled in poetic literature.<\/font><\/p>\n

\n <\/p>\n

\nPage <\/font>
\n\u2013 260<\/font><\/p>\n

<\/td>\n<\/tr>\n<\/table>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Kalidasa’s "Seasons"   I. ITS AUTHENTICITY   THE Seasons of Kalidasa is one of those early works of a great poet which are even more…<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-52","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-03-the-harmony-of-virtue-volume-03","wpcat-4-id"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52","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=52"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/52\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=52"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=52"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/worksofthemotherandsriaurobindo.org\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=52"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}