Sons of Gods: The Mahabharata

GIVEAWAY!

2012-03-01T07:39:00.001+01:00

Sons of Gods is FREE for three days -- starting sometime today (March 1st) and ending sometime on Saturday. (March 3rd).

Go ahead, give it a try! This is the very last giveaway on Kindle.

Beliefnet, Protest, and Travel Fever

2012-02-29T11:27:00.001+01:00

Warning: Identical post to today's Sadhana Day by Day!

I haven't posted for a long time.
I do have a new post in mind; a continuation of the last one.
In a few days I'll get down to it, but in the meantime, you can read a gallery feature I wrote for Beliefnet:
The Russian Doll of Hinduism in Ten Sanskrit Terms

And while you're on the Beliefnet website, please read the following article entitled

Microsoft's Encarta: Biased Against Hinduism? A point-by-point examination of the popular encyclopedia's treatment of Hindu beliefs.

It's excellent, and echoes a syndrome I've long been aware of: the denigrating way Hinduism is often portayed in the West. I did try to correct some of that portrayal in my own Russian Doll article, simply by showing "the other side" of Hinduism; but the Beliefnet article above takes the bull by the horns and address the subject point by point. I've commented on the article on its page, so do take a look.

...................................................................................................

And by the way:

I'm also very busy preparing for my visit to Guyana next week, and have started a blog which will function as a journal while I'm there.
I think what you read there has quite a lot to do with Sadhana Day by Day.

Here's the blog:
Land of Many Waters

The Gita Series: Arjuna's Despair

2012-02-21T06:58:00.000+01:00

The Gita really begins with Arjuna's despair as he sees the great army of the Kauravas before him on the battlefireld of Kurukshetra.

Krishna, seeing all these kinsmen arrayed here to fight, my mind reels; I can hardly stand, for my limbs grow limp. My mouth is as parched dry as desert sand; my body quivers. The mighty Gandiva bow slips from my fingers wet with sweat; my skin is on fire. What greater crime is there than killing one's own friends and relatives? What gain is victory, what use sovereignty, what joy in wealth and pleasures, what value life itself, if gained by killing one's loved ones? It is a great sin, Krishna. I cannot do it. How can we ever live happily hereafter, if we kill our own people? I cannot do it, Krishna. I prefer to be poor, and live as a beggar, or a pauper. Krishna, I cannot fight.

He casts away his bow and arrows and sinks down in his chariot in utter dejection.
And who cannot sympathise with him? After all the tribulations of the years and decades leading up to this date; after all the negotiations ofr peace and preparations for war, Arjuna is finally face to face with what the war will actually mean. On the enemy side are men beloved to him: his teacher, Drona; his uncle, Salya. Most of all, the dear Grandsire of the entire clan, Bhishma. The Kauravas themselves are first cousins of the Pandavas. The enormity of what he is about to do stands before him stark and horrifying, and to refuse to fight at first glance seems the noble response.

But Krishna will have none of it:

You grieve in vain, Arjuna; the wise grieve neither for the dead nor for the living. For there is no time that I did not exist, nor you, nor any of these warriors: and there is no time we shall not exist hereafter. The body dies, but not the living spirit within it. Know this, and do your duty; without grief.

The embodied soul attains the stages of childhood, youth, maturity and old age: leaving the body, it goes on to another. The body is born only to perish again: but That which pervades body and soul cannot die or be killed.

Bodies slay and are slain on the vast tapestry of Time and Space: but the eternal Self is imperishable, immeasurable; an immutable principle, indestructible. It is not born, it does not die. It is constantly eternal: the same yesterday, today and for evermore; pure unchanging consciousness. Weapons cannot kill that Self, fire cannot burn it, water cannot wet it, wind cannot dry it. It is eternal, all-pervading, stable, immovable, primordial.

With these words Krishna summarises the entire Gita, and gets to the very core of Hinduism: we are not the body. The body goes through many changes: it is born, grows, moves through the stages of childhood, adolescence, adulthood and old age; and then it dies. There is no constancy in the body, no permanence. What is permanent is the sense of being which every one of us experiences: the child, the adult, the old woman. That knowledge of "I Am" is like a silved thread that accompanies us all through our lives. Though our minds may change, our attitudes, our likes and dislikes, our hobbies, indeed, even our sex, there is SOMETHING there beyond all these, a constant sense of one's own existence: that is the life within us upon which all these changes move and flicker like the pictures on a screen.

That, says Krishna, cannot be killed. It is not the agent throughout all the changes; it is merely the observer, the silent witness, the true Self of all. It occupies the body, it occupies the mind, but it is neither of these. It is the mystery beyond all the appearances that distract us day and night. It is the true reality.

That is the teaching of Hinduism, of the Vedas and Upanishads and the Bhagavad Gita in a nutshell.

The Gita Series: Part One

2012-02-15T07:33:00.001+01:00

As promised, I've published Chapter 58: The Song of God as a blog page above.

To understand what is happening here one really needs to have read the Mahabharata, but the Gita is important that it has taken on a life as its own: 18 chapters of sublime wisdom, known as a major world scripture in its own right. For Hindus it's the equivalent of the Bible.

There are many translations, of course, and I certainly have not read them all in order to make a choice as to which is the best. The version I own is a translation by W. J. Johnson published by the Oxford University Press.

The chapter 58 of Sons of Gods is a much condensed version of the Gita, and not a translation of a selection of verses: it's what I believe to be the essence of Krishna's message to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra. Much as I would have loved to include the entire Gita, doing so would have broken the word limit I had set for myself and held back the story. I do encourage everyone to get their own copy of the entire Gita and read it whenever they can; of course, online versions are available for free, but there's nothing like holding this book in your hands, packing it into hour luggage when you go on a trip, slipping it under your pillow when you go to sleep. It just doesn't do to have it on your Kindle along with a thousand other books.

For those who have not yet read Sons of Gods, or any Mahabharata at all, here's the context of the Gita:
Krishna, who is the incarnation of Lord Vishnu, gave his friend Arjuna the choice when it became clear that the Pandavas--Arjuna and his five brothers, who live in Righteousness--must go to war with their cousins, Kauravas--Duryodhana and his 99 brothers, who have taken the kingdom from them by unrighteous means.

Krishna is also a cousin of the Pandavas, and he commands an army that is known to be invincible: the Vrishnis. According to the rules, Arjuna and Duryodhana both approach Krishna to ask him to be their ally in the great battle, and according to the rules, Krishna is duty bound to ally himself to whomever asks first.
Duryodhana enters his chamber first, finds Krishna asleep, and so sits beside his head to wait till he awakes.
Arjuna enters after Duryodhana, and sits at Krishna's feet, where he sinks into meditation. Krishna wakes up, opens his eyes, and sees Arjuna first.

Duryodhana, however, insists that chivalry demands that Krishna side with him, as he was there first. Krishna only smiles, and says, "but I saw Arjuna first." What a conundrum! To solve the problem, Krishna gives the cousins a choice: on the one side his mighty army, the Vrishnus, who cannot be defeated. On the other side he alone, as a charioteer. He will not fight: he will only drive the chariot.

To Duryodhana's fury, Krishna gives Arjuna the first choice: what will he have, the entire army, or he himself, weaponless, as a charioteer?

Arjuna does not think twice. He folds his hands in prayer, sinks to his knees, and says: "I want You my Lord; I only want You."

For me, that is one of the most poignant, the most moving, the most important scenes in the entire Mahabharta. To me, Arjuna's answer contains the whole Gita in itself.

In the coming days I'll be going through the Gita -- the condensed version as posted on this page -- but I'll start with that sentence: I want You, my Lord. I only want You.

The Gita Series: Introduction

2012-02-11T06:47:00.001+01:00

A few posts ago I said I’d be going through the Bhagavad Gita chapter by chapter, and the time has come to do so.
As it is for many people, the Gita was my first real introduction to the Hindu faith and philosophy,. Yesterday I wrote on my other blog, Sadhana Day by Day, about the experience that turned my life around forty years ago, and set me on the uphill path I am still walking to this day. The aftermath of that experience was that I returned home and turned over a new leaf completely; and the lifeline that straightened out my oh so crooked life was this little book: the Bhagavad Gita.
In retrospect it seems that that path was already predetermined, and that everything was all planned out in advance that I should end up devouring the Gita as if I were starving and it was living water. Before my trip through South America I had already discovered the miracle of Hatha Yoga, and diligent practice had sorted out many of my more pressing, physical problems: drinking, smoking and an eating disorder that had made me so fat I’d fallen into a slump of inferiority and self-loathing. The Gita was the next step; for that inferiority and self-loathing still lived on in me, but in a more subtle, mental form.
The Gita pulled me out. The Gita showed me the way. The Gita opened doors for me and I walked through into a wonderful new world where inferiority and self-loathing could be shed like an old used skin and I gradually woke up to another me hidden beneath all the layers of self that had seemed so real, and were so suffocating.
The Gita is, of course, the central teaching at the heart of the Mahabharata. Everything else, the huge cast of characters, the discourses, the sub-plots and plots-within-plots, the war, the entire vast story itself, are all merely spokes in a wheel of which the Gita is the hub. I’m always astonished when I read some short versions of the Gita, which omit the Gita as if it were a mere distraction from the story. It’s actually the other way around: the story is a distraction from the Gita, and that’s why the Gita has found a life of its own beyond the Mahabharata. Millions of people, in the West as well as in the East, have read and loved and revered the Gita who have never come near to the Mahabharata; it can exist on its own, whereas the Mahabharata on its own—well, it’s still a great story, but a story without a spine: just another book in the fantasy genre.
The Gita, of course, is pretty long in itself, and there was no way I could include the whole of it in Sons of Gods. I did, however, try to prise out its essence, find new words for the jewel Krishna handed to Arjuna on the battlefield of Kurukshetra; and so Chapter 58 of Sons of Gods, the Song of God, is a condensed version of the Gita. The day after tomorrow I’m going to post that entire Chapter as a page in this blog, and that’s the Gita that will be discussed here.

Women in the Mahabharata

2012-02-09T05:11:00.003+01:00

A few days ago, Hindu Blog posted an interview with me on Sons of Gods. A couple of the questions concerned a subject I was planning to write about in the near future, so let’s see what I said there:

Who do you think is the most tragic woman character in the Mahabharata?
The Mahabharata is a book about men, yet the few female characters are powerful indeed: the goddess Ganga, the Pandava’s mother Kunti, the Princess Amba, and of course the Pandavas common wife, Draupadi. Of them all, I find Amba the most tragic, as well as the most interesting, and I tend to identify with her.
As a woman, how do you see the treatment of women in Mahabharat? Is your view reflected in the book?
When we consider the women in the Mahabharata and their treatment, it’s important not to see them through the prism of Western feminism. This is a story set in an age and a place far removed from our own world. Different standards were valid in that age, and it wouldn’t be fair to speak of “repression” and “subservience” in that context. Yes, the Mahabharata is a story dominated by men. Yes, all the great heroes are male. And yes, there are only a few women, whose roles are mainly that of wife and mother. Yet, how powerful they are in those roles!
There’s the goddess Ganga, who dictates the terms of her marriage to King Santanu; there’s Gandhari, the mother of Duryodhana and his 99 brothers, who, after all the leading statesmen and wise councillors have pled in vain for peace, is summoned to the court to give the final word: as mother of the Kauravas, her wish is—or should be—final, and obeyed. Kunti is revered by her five sons, the Pandavas, to the extent that a word of hers spoken in jest is taken as an absolute command. And Draupadi: it’s for her sake, to restore honour to her, that the entire war is fought.
There remains only Amba, who is cruelly wronged by Bhishma near the beginning of the story; but I love the way how, after she is experiences the most bitter shame and dishonour, she rallies her forces, decides on revenge, and focuses all her energy and her will on executing justice on Bhishma—even if she must die and be reborn again and become a man in order to do so. Amba is without doubt the very first transgendered character in literature; but even in a man’s body, she remains a woman, and it is as a woman she engages in battle against Bhishma. In Sons of Gods I’ve tried in a small way to honour Amba; yes, she makes mistakes, but in the end truth wins out.
As for Draupadi: she’s the most assertive of all the women; something of a diva, in the way she orders her husbands about! She’s not a female character I particularly like; she’s proud and vengeful and very bossy, and that’s how I’ve portrayed her. Thank goodness, another author, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, managed to portray a different side to Draupadi in her book Palace of Illusions, so that I ended up understanding and even liking her!
We must remember that in Hinduism, the so-called female attributes of selflessness, forbearance and gentleness are seen as positive, whereas the so-called male characteristics of assertiveness, domination and control are considered negative, being traits of the ego that must, eventually, be surrendered to God.
Siva and Shakti, male and female energy, are seen as two halves of a whole, each valuable in its own right, each needing the other as a complement. God can be mother as well as father, and the Mother is, finally, divine. Ideally, women are seen as the invisible backbone of society; it is that backbone that holds society upright, and when it falls, so too, according to Hindu thought, does society. Of course this ideal, humans being as flawed as they are, is seldom realised, and women all too often trodden underfoot in India as everywhere in the world. But it is there, a goal to be aspired to.
In Sons of Gods I’ve tried to get under the skin of the few women, so that the reader understands their inherent, though perhaps quieter, strength.

The trouble with “getting under the skin” of the female characters, of course, is that such to do so with every one of the women, and do so thoroughly, would have extended the whole book by a couple of hundred pages, which would defeat the whole purpose of a condensation. And so I was reduced to giving just a glimpse here and there into the inner life of the women: Kunti, when she summons the Sun God in the prologue. Amba, when she is disgraced by Bhishma and seeks revenge. Again and again, Kunti’s feelings for Karna: just a sentence or two that reveal the depth of her love for him.

And then Draupadi. I have to admit that the only time in the entire book that I felt any liking for her was in the famous Assembly Hall scene, where she is dragged by her hair and the Duhsasana tries to strip her naked. I won’t drop a spoiler here, but those who familiar with the Mahabharata know what she does; and that is the moment I love Draupadi.

It was only when I read the book mentioned above, the Palace of Illusions by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruna, that I finally saw a different side to Draupadi. Unfortunately, I first heard of, bought and read this book the very week after Sons of Gods was published; but in a way that’s a good thing, because I might have been tempted to go back and make some changes to the manuscript! As it was, I was astonished and delighted to see how well the two books complement each other. Divakaruni wrote the entire Mahabharata from the point of view of a single character, which of course means firstly, that the point of view of that character is biased, and secondly, that the reader only gets to see those scenes in which that character is present; everything else is by definition only hearsay, reported by the narrator or by the other characters, and by necessity much condensed. I often wondered, while reading Palace of Illusions, how well a reader unfamiliar with the Mahabharata story would really understand what is going on. But for a reader who does know the story, Palace of Illusions is wonderful; I have to thank Divakaruni for opening up the character of Draupadi and making her now only a living, breathing character, but one I could actually sympathise with and even love.

Most of all, though, I was delighted with the treatment of Karna in this book. I’ve said it before in various places in this blog, and in the Hindu Blog interview:

Karna is my favourite character. In many shorter versions of the Mahabharata his role is skimmed over; he is merely one of the antagonists, Duryodhana’s right-hand man, Arjuna’s arch-enemy, a villain. And in the longer versions the reader tends to lose sight of him; he is lost amid the sheer vastness of the epic. But I’ve always been on the side of the underdog, and I love the fact that Karna in the role of the underdog actually possesses a secret power, a power he is unaware of. His position is pivotal to the entire story, and I was determined to make this clear. That’s why I brought forward the scene of his conception and began the story with that, as a sort of prologue. It’s to say: watch this guy. He’s important. Don’t forget him. He’s a great character. Flawed, but honourable to his fingertips.

Divakaruni obviously sees Karna in the very light that I did, because, wonder of wonders, in her book Karna is a main character! It’s not a spoiler to say that Palace of Illusions is about Draupadi’s secret love for Karna, because that is the hook of the entire story: and what a Karna we have here! He is just as I imagined him: a truly noble hero, the greatest of them all, whose only flaw is a result of the tragic circumstances of his birth.
And so it is Karna in particular who links these two books: Sons of Gods, that tells the whole story of his life and death, and Palace of Illusions, that tells the story of the woman who loved him most.
Thank you, Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni, thank you a thousand times!

The Palace of Illusions is available through Amazon and at all good booksellers.

More Interviews, and what's coming up

2012-02-06T07:04:00.003+01:00

There's an interview with me today on Hindu Blog about the Mahabharata.

And last week this interview was published on Diane Dooley's writers' blog: Interview and Giveaway with Aruna Sharan.

My thanks to those blog owners.

Meanwhile, on my new blog Sadhana Day by Day the ideas for future posts are simply overflowing -- I'm very excited about putting all of this to paper!

And right here on Sons of Gods I'll be keeping my promise to highlight the Bhagavad Gita over the next few days.

Announcement!

2012-02-04T10:37:00.005+01:00

I've started a new blog! Yes, that's why I've been silent these last few days.

It's called Sadhana Day by Day, and it's to be found here.

The thing is, this Sons of Gods blog needs to stay on track, but it's been continually derailed by
posts about spiritual practice.

Not everyone who wants to read about the Mahabharata is interested in spiritual practice.
And not everyone who wants to read about spiritual practice is interested in the Mahabharata.
So, I created a space entirely for the discussion of all things sadhana: spiritual practice along the lines of Vedanta, the Bhagavad Gita, and in particular my own practice, Advaita Vedanta, or Non-Duality.

If that's your interest, please follow me there.

I've ported all the posts on the Gunas over there, and added Part Four, which is about Sattvic Diet.

See you there!

There'll be more posts on the Mahabharata coming up.

Giveaway Today!

2012-02-01T08:18:00.000+01:00

Update: the giveaway continues on February 2nd

Today there is a giveaway of Sons of Gods at www.amazon.com!

The giveaway starts at 12:00 AM Pacific Standard Time on 1st February, and ends at 11:59 PM Pacific Standard Time on 2nd February.
Click on the book's image on the right of the screen to be taken directly to the Amazon page.

Get your free book now! And spread the word: Facebook, Blog and Tweet this as much as you like.

In other news: I will soon be starting a new blog, dedicated entirely to the nuts and bolts of Vedantic spiritual practice. The sonsofgods blog will continue to be about the Mahabharata and related topics, but it seems that I'm venturing out beyond the book, and I'd like to keep the topics separate.

Quiz: Identify Hindu deities!

2012-01-29T08:31:00.000+01:00

This is a fun quiz -- see how well you do!

The thing to remember, though, is that in spite of all the gods and goddesses in Hinduism -- they are all only aspects of the One; the mind, being too gross and scattered to understand that One, likes to have a form and a name and tangible personification of that One on which to focus, and that's where gods and goddesses come in useful. By focussing on that name and form the mind grows subtle, and capable of more abstract understanding. That is what meditation is all about.

Celebrating the Very First Review!

2012-01-19T17:10:00.000+01:00

A great review is now up on the literary site AuthorScoop, written by up-and-coming Simon and Schuster author Jamie Mason.

Sons of Gods: The Mahabharata Retold, by Aruna Sharan

Strictly speaking, AuthorScoop is not a book review site, but occasionally we’ll come across something in our private reading that really calls for a crowing. As such, here I go. -Jamie Mason

I’ve always loved mythologies. Like most of my American contemporaries, Greek and Roman myths were part of our school curriculum. On my own, I sought out Native American and Norse tales. As I let them, they spilled the secrets of the forces and spirits that put color and flourish over the grey cogs of physics and rationalism. I’ve loved these stories for the freedom from the strictly literal that they offer; the chance to swim in what it says of humanity in the stories we invent to explain the universe.

I had certainly heard of India’s rich fables and parables, particularly, the Bhagavad Gita. But I didn’t know of its larger contextual epic, The Mahabharata. And I also didn’t know that I was poorer for it.

I had read Sharon Maas (writing here as Aruna Sharan) several years ago. Her gorgeous and riveting, OF MARRIAGEABLE AGE, is a treasure to me, as it is currently (but perhaps not for long) out of print. I was delighted for the opportunity to read a new work of hers.

SONS OF GODS: THE MAHABHARATA RETOLD is kaleidoscopic in its beauty and intricacy. The hurdle of the tale’s massive scope has always daunted translators, and the difficulty of prising the right tone from an ancient grand epic to suit a modern and Western audience has relegated it to largely academic obscurity.

What’s saved it for us is that Aruna Sharan knows full well that love, betrayal, lust, envy, pride, devotion, and heroism never go out of style. SONS OF GODS is a literary soap opera with a soul that spans the full horizon.

Love for the panoramic story itself and the patience of more than three decades of careful crafting has solved the literary puzzle of how to present it for an audience in the digital age. Aruna Sharan is well-suited in both talent and passion to deliver a new classic for lovers of mythology.

The unique category of mythology also makes SONS OF GODS a clever fit for Amazon’s Kindle publishing as a proving ground for its appeal. The price is incredible for a work of such excellence. Still, I hope for the day to hold it hardbound in my hands, as well. This isn’t just a book, it’s the Universe explained.

Where do we go next?

2012-01-19T07:22:00.000+01:00

I've left this blog unattended for quite a while; what with starting a new book, travelling to England, bringing back my daughter and her boyfriend to visit me in Germany and driving them around the countryside, my schedule has been full!
But I'm back and have plans for it.
I think I've done enough to introduce the Mahabharata in general terms to those unacqainted with it, and to hopefully extend the understanding of those who already know and love it. If you're in the latter group and have not yet watched the Myths of Mankind series in the first few posts, I do encourage you to do so; interwoven with scenes from Peter Brooks' wonderful movie Mahabharata, those videos can only increase your love and reverence for the epic.

I'd like now to turn more to content; to discussions of some of the main themes arising in the story. Here are some of the posts I see coming up:
-- Caste: what does the Mahabharata say about it?
-- Mahabharata Women
-- Should Christians shun the Mahabharata?
-- Themes from the Bhagavad Gita: the three Gunas, right action, meditation.
-- What is Religion?
-- Science and Hinduism
-- Advaita: non-duality

That's a pretty good beginning...

In the meantime, another interview has been posted online on the literary site AuthorScoop.

Mentions!

2012-01-04T16:55:00.000+01:00

This blog has been mentioned twice recently in other blogs: thanks to Western Hindu and The Accidental Hindu!
The latter blog featured my personal journey towards the writing of Sons of Gods, so if you are interested in me as author you can go there and read.

A Very Happy New Year...

2012-01-01T16:00:00.000+01:00

...to readers of this blog.

I really can't put it any better than the Gayatri Mantra; revered by both Buddhists and Hindus worldwide, it's considered to be a supreme vehicle for gaining spiritual understanding.

Om Bhur Bhuvah Swah, Tat Savitur Varenyam
Bhargo Devasya Dhimahi, Dhiyo Yo Nah Prachodayat
ॐ भूर्भुव: स्व: तत्सवितुर्वरेण्यं । भर्गो देवस्य धीमहि, धीयो यो न: प्रचोदयात् ।।

A basic translation is given as...

Oh God, the Protector, the basis of all life, Who is self-existent, Who is free from all pains and Whose contact frees the soul from all troubles, Who pervades the Universe and sustains all, the Creator and Energizer of the whole Universe, the Giver of happiness, Who is worthy of acceptance, the most excellent, Who is Pure and the Purifier of all, let us embrace that very God, so that He may direct our mental faculties in the right direction.

For a more detailed interpreteation, see Eaglespace.

There, too, you will see a more explicit description of That Which Cannot be Described or Explained, ie the G-word as mentioned in my last post.

Here is a video of the Gayatri Mantra as chanted.

Simply beautiful. A fine beginning
to the New Year.

It is a morning mantra, repeated preferably to the rising sun, and so well in keeping with the prologue to Sons of Gods, when Surya the Sungod appears to Kunti

Which, incidentally, is launched today.

Should Atheists shun the Mahabharata?

2011-12-29T09:22:00.000+01:00

Definitely. As far as irrational religious fairy-tales are concerned, the Mahabharata out-fantasizes the Bible by legions. Lord Vishnu lying on an Ocean of Milk with God Brahma sitting on a lotus growing out of his navel? Check. Magic beings who can change shape at will? Check. Superheroes who ascend to heaven in silver chariots and gain command over superweapons more deadly than the atom bomb? Check. It’s all in there. If this is the book Hindus hold most dear then obviously, any self-respecting atheist should shun it; or at the very least, read it only to mock.

As someone who has lived, moved and breathed in this religion for almost 40 years, I’m often frustrated by the clichés and presumptions with which many Westerners—atheists and non-atheists alike—tend to summarise and dismiss Hinduism -- or rather, as I prefer to call it, the Sanatana Dharma. Ask the average Westerner for a word association, and you’ll get trite answers such as “caste system” and “holy cow” and “millions of four armed gods.” And indeed, the Mahabharata is generously endowed with all of these “typical” Hindu accessories, so that a summary dismissal of the whole vast epic as humbug might be forgiven.

On the other hand…

What about reading it the way a Hindu does? Simply plunging into it as into an exciting fantasy world, taking with you a generous pinch of salt, and willingly checking in your disbelief at the first page, as you would a Harry Potter novel or view a Star Wars movie? A Hindu would never wag a finger at you for your blasphemy; she’d smile and invite you to come closer.

See, in order to understand this book one really needs the mentality of a Hindu. No worries; it’s not catching. To think like a Hindu you need a totally different kind of logic. One tenet of Western rationality is that if A is A it cannot also be B. Logical, right? The Hindu says, not so. A can be A and B as well, and for that matter also C. A thing can be true and untrue at the same time. Yes, the Mahabharata is true – but also, on another level, from a different perspective, it isn't. There was once a great war – but also, there wasn’t. These gods exist – but also they don’t. If you want to believe it is literally true, then you’re welcome; but if you don’t, that's cool too. If you believe it, then it’s obviously because you need to believe it, and that belief is your path; and the only thing that matters, really, is your path: the path of growing ever closer to the inherent goodness and beauty of your own true being, which is divine.

In other words, Hinduism is not one fixed set of beliefs that everyone must adhere to. It is many concepts for many people; from the most concrete faith in millions of gods and goddesses who can and do interact with us humans on a literal level, to the most abstract knowledge that nothing exists. Nothing at all. That this whole physical universe is but an illusion; that the only reality is Consciousness, and we are simply dreams upon that Consciousness. You can find such abstract notions written in ancient Sanskrit texts such as Yoga Vasishta Sara and the Crest Jewel of Discrimination.

This all-embracing attitude that includes every spectrum of human understanding and mentality, from the simple worship of stone idols to the abstract thoughtless Void, is neatly summed up by the following definition of what is a Hindu, formulated by the Supreme Court of India:

"In principle, Hinduism incorporates all forms of belief and worship without necessitating the selection or elimination of any. The Hindu is inclined to revere the divine in every manifestation, whatever it may be, and is doctrinally tolerant, leaving others – including both Hindus and non-Hindus – whatever creed and worship practices suit them best. A Hindu may embrace a non-Hindu religion without ceasing to be a Hindu, and since the Hindu is disposed to think synthetically and to regard other forms of worship, strange Gods, and divergent doctrines as inadequate rather than wrong or objectionable, he tends to believe that the highest powers complement each other for the well-being of the world and mankind. Few religious ideas are considered to be finally irreconcilable. The core religion does not even depend on the existence or non-existence of God or on whether there is one God or many. Since religious truth is said to transcend all verbal definition, it is not conceived in dogmatic terms. Hinduism is, then, both a civilisation and conglomerate of religions, with neither a beginning, a founder nor a central authority, hierarchy, or organisation."

That definition might seem too New-Age, too wishy-washy for some. Don’t Hindus know what they believe? Is a Hindu just some sort of any-and-everything-goes hippy with a mind so open it’s like a sponge, more holes than substance, sucking up every hare-brained idea under the sun?

Not at all. Most Hindus will have his or her “path”, which he or she will follow with dedication and sincerity. I, for instance, am an Advaitist, and have been for the last 40 years; it’s one of the most exacting and precise teachings of them all, one that considers Brahman, the spiritual essence underlying all reality, as the only reality; that all gods and the world itself are only aspects of Brahman, appearances within that one reality, consciousness which is one, limitless, impersonal, indefinable, without qualities, eternal, unchanging, inactive; that an ultimate unity exists in the multiplicity of gods, religions, cultures and indeed all life.

At the same time I can read and enjoy and believe and even rewrite the Mahabharata, an epic full of gods and demons and supernatural events and outlandish curses. I can go to a Catholic service on Christmas morning and sing as heartily as any of the faithful. I will visit a Buddhist or a Sikh temple and take part in the ceremonies there – without ever losing touch with my own individual practice.

And I really, really avoid religion discussions with (most) atheists. Because all too often religion, all religion, is dismissed by atheists without any further consideration; as if we are all of the same ilk, all of the same backward frame of mind, all believing in a set of rubbish that needs to be swept out. It's only a matter of time, in any internet discussion on religion, before some atheist scoffingly chimes in with "fairy-in-the-sky" or "flying-spaghetti-monster". It’s an “either you’re an atheist or you’re an illogical idiot believing in Santa Claus in the clouds” mentality that leaves me voiceless. Huffington Post blogger Philip Goldberg spoke up for me (and others like me) back in October 2010 in his call for a “sane spirituality”, repudiating the false atheist stand that there are only two sides in the religious debate: conservative Bible-thumpers and radical anti-religionists. The real voiceless ones belong to neither of those two camps, says Goldberg; and there are a whole lot of them. They are a diverse, unorganized mish-mash of open-minded seekers that tends to approach spirituality in a reasonable, rational and pragmatic manner: they are spiritual but not religious (SBNR). “Many practice methodologies derived from ancient traditions born in India, which we've come to call Hinduism and Buddhism, although very few Western practitioners call themselves Hindus or Buddhists.”

In that group Goldberg includes people with secular world views, who view practices such as meditation as the applied components of a science of consciousness, or simply as ways to enhance well-being. Last but not least, the voiceless include many people who appear to be conventionally religious, in that they attend worship services, celebrate religious holidays and teach their children about their religious heritage, but on their own terms. They don't believe everything that staunch atheists assume they believe, neither do they accept all religious dogma as revealed truth. If they do value scripture, says Goldberg, they do so selectively and read it metaphorically, not as history or as an infallible guide to morality.

“The sanely spiritual," he says, "think logically and accept the testimony of science. Their likely answer to the query 'Do you believe in God?' is, 'It depends on what you mean by that term.' They're wary of the G-word because it's come to be associated with belief in an anthropomorphic father figure in the sky, whereas they're more inclined to postulate a formless, creative power that would not seem out of place in a physics seminar. In short, they are rational, reasonable individuals who regard the spiritual dimension of life as a central feature of human development and pursue it in the spirit of good old American pragmatism. They do what works, placing direct experience and observation over ideology or doctrine. To the degree that they have faith in something, it is the kind of faith that proceeds from evidence and reason, like a scientist's faith in the outcome of an experiment.”

That is exactly my position. And out of that position I was able to re-create one of the most insanely preposterous stories any religion has ever produced; I am able to love and respect and learn from that story because its deepest meaning lies between the words; not in the events described themselves, but in their effect on the reader. And that is why I invite, no, challenge, atheists to read the Mahabharata.

My version, of course: Sons of Gods. Give it a try.

Coming soon: Should Christians Shun the Mahabharata?

Joy to the World!

2011-12-25T11:45:00.000+01:00

.... this beautiful Christmas morning 2011!

Whether or not you are Christian, whether or not you celebrate Christmas...

...after all, the Christmas message is not "joy to all Christians" but to the world; and joy is what we all long for, what is so desperately needed in this place of spiritual hunger, conflict and searching.

Raised by atheist parents, growing up conflicted between their rationalist message and the Christian tradition I learnt at school, I finally found my spiritual home in India, in a traditional Hindu ashram -- and it was there I finally understood the deeper meaning of Christianity, and the essential truth of all religions.

It might seem strange to find a Christian picture and message on a blog about a Hindu book. To me, it's not strange at all. It's perfectly normal. There's not a Christian joy and a Hindu joy and a Buddhist joy and an atheist joy. There is only joy.

I'll be writing about that more in the days to come; for now, it's truly Joy to the World.

What is Dharma?

2011-12-23T08:35:00.001+01:00

In Sons of Gods I’ve generally avoided Sanskrit terms. One of the exceptions, however, is the untranslatable word dharma; a concept that simply does not exist in the West.

Put simply, dharma is a composite of many concepts. It includes the idea of duty, righteousness, right action and inner attitude; and yet it is more than the sum of these parts. To act within dharma is to do the right thing, right now, taking into consideration all aspects of that action, past, present and future, as well as individual temperament and needs, and the needs of others affected by that action; and to do it free of anger, resentment or greed.

The Indian mind, for a Westerner, is complicated. There is no "right" and "wrong"; everything is subjective, yet not in the modern, Western sense, which centres on the fulfilment one’s own needs and desires as long as they don’t infringe on the well-being of others. Dharma is not about doing whatever you want, or fulfilling your own desires. In fact, acting within Dharma quite often means the denial of one’s own desires, and sometimes, even, the acceptance of unfavourable circumstances. It might be best understood under Reinhold Niebuhr’s "Serenity Prayer":

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

But dharma goes beyond the Serenity Prayer, for it includes the concept of knowing and doing one’s duty, as well as one’s inner attitude towards that duty; the idea that selflessness, in the end, has a higher value than selfishness, and brings with it a higher final reward. Duty must be fulfilled without complaint and without whining: Just Do It, whether or not it results in the things you want. Dharma is the spine that holds society straight; without dharma it falls like an unsupported vine.

The idea of dharma as duty or right action stems from the belief that there is a natural order, a universal code or way of life and decision-making that keeps the individual in tune with the whole. Justice, social harmony and human happiness require that we learn to discern and live in a manner appropriate to the requirements of that order; eventually, it leads to Liberation, feedom from the incessant demands of ego. Whereas in the West we think of freedom as the ability to fulfill our wants and desires, the goal of dharma is to be free from desire itself, in order to recognise the inherent truth of who we really are. This is liberation.

Hinduism teaches that there are four ashramas, or stages of life through which each individual tries to fulfill the four goals of human life: kama (sensual pleasures), artha (profit), dharma, and moksha (liberation). Dharma is essential in all four stages; it can be seen as an inner compass through which we can measure and direct our actions. In our youth, our lives are mostly directed by that first two goals, pleasure and profit; but acting according to the principles of dharma will slowly and surely direct us towards the final goal, liberation; with that goal in sight, pleasure and profit are seen as transitory and trivial, providing no lasting satisfaction. They fall away naturally.

In the Bhagavad Gita, the core of the Mahabharata, Krishna teaches dharma as acting without attachment to the fruits of action; this, for the Hindu, is true strength. In the Mahabharata, Yudhisthira is the one character who embodies the concept of dharma; in fact, he is sired by the god of dharma, and because Dharma is the code by which he lives he becomes known as King Dharma. To the Western reader, Yudhisthira may appear too good to be true. He might seem goody-goody, regarded as too meek and mild: a wimp. Why does he not resist Duryodhana more? Why does he not take the advice of his brothers and destroy his enemy before the situation grows to a head? Why is he so calm and at peace when they are exiled for twelve years? What is wrong with him?

Nothing is wrong with him. Yudhisthira's strength is the still, silent strength that comes from within; that knows when to act and when to refrain from action, as exasperating and inexplicable as this may seem to the outsider. He is the Serenity Prayer personified.

But Yudhisthira is by no means perfect; he falls victim to his own vice, and even then his behaviour is too good to be true, resulting in the violation of Draupadi, and, finally to war. This is one of the lessons of the Mahabharata: there is no guarantee.

Leading a dharmic lif does not mean that from now on you will lie on a bed of roses. All too often the spiritual life is interpreted as other-worldly; people floating on some kind of a silver above the mud of daily life. That blessings will be strewn before youlike manna form heaven. That you will get all you ever wanted, just because "you are such a spiritual person".

No. It is struggle and effort all the way. Mistakes will be made; your own shadow will rise up to fight you at every corner. There will be forks in the road and you will make "nad" decisions, ones not in keeping with dharma.

But: you will persevere. You will learn form those mistakes and do better next time. You will mature and ripen and grow, and you will find a quiet, subtle, but deep fulfillment in doing the right thing just because it is right, irrespective of the fruits or pleasures it might or might not bring. Just like Krishna said.

You are responsible for your own actions, but you cannot control the actions of others. The only real choice you have, at any moment in time, is to be true to your own being.

A Song for an Unsung Hero

2011-12-20T07:21:00.000+01:00

Recently a friend asked me why I had done this; why rewrite a work that already has so many versions out there? What, if anything, makes this English Mahabharata different? Playing devil's advocate, she asked: surely it's idle vanity to put yet a new edition into the mix -- with a new author and even a new title?

(image: Karna's chariot wheel sinks
into the earth.)

I'll answer the first question first, and give you a task: look up any current edition of the Mahabharata and seek a synopsis of the story. Inevitably you will find some version of the following:

"The Mahabharata is the story of a family feud in ancient India, culminating in a terrible war. The five Pandava brothers, under the protection of Krishna, an Incarnation of God, have been cheated of the kingdom that is rightly theirs, and must fight not only to win it back but to reestablish righteousness in the world."

And that is, indeed, the core story in a nutshell.

But it's not the whole story.
There's another story waiting in the wings. A story that, in every other version, is told as merely a side plot, sometimes just mentioned, as if of little account. And is never, ever alluded to in the synopsis.

From the day I finished reading my first Mahabharata this "other story" has been the one I've longed to tell: the story of the underdog who is actually the key to the whole drama, the forgotten hero who makes the greatest sacrifice of all: the story of Karna.

The fact is: without Karna there would be no Mahabharata. Though he is never mentioned in descriptions of the main Mahabharata plot, without him there would be no story at all. On him rests the responsibility for Duryodhana's push for power; he goads him on for all the wrong reasons. Karna's motivation is revenge and envy: he uses Duryodhana to fulfill unhealthy needs, just as Duryodhana uses him to fulfill his own insatiable ambitions. And yet in the end Karna makes a decision through which he redeems himself and all his wrongdoing: the decision that finally makes war inevitable. Karna , with just one word, has the power to prevent the war. But he doesn't. And somehow, we applaud him for that.

The Mahabharata is not just a simple story of good versus evil. That would be boring. In fact, the "good" Pandavas shock us with their breaking of almost all of the rules during the great war. Whereas Karna, on the side of the villains, exits the story as the greatest hero of them all.

It is this moral ambiguity that makes the Mahabharata such a great book. It's not all black-and-white. All through the story there are shades of grey, and Karna, more than any other of the great heroes, deserves a new retelling of the story, one that emphasises his role in the drama. He is the reason for this new version.

To the second question posed by my well-meaning friend, the quetsion of vanity: it's one it's one I've asked myself again and again. For the Mahabharata should never be written out of vanity. At its core is the Bhagavad Gita, in which Krishna instructs Arjuna on the path of right action: that is, action without regard for the fruits of action. Action with detachment. I've tried to write this in that spirit. It began as merely a hobby, a literary exercise done for my own satisfaction; the actual trial, of course, came at that moment when I decided to go public with it; for going public brings in its wake all the perils of ego-gratification.

Writing under a pen-name is an aid to detachment. By giving the book a title of its own I give it its own little niche. This is not "The Mahabharata", which to me is, and must be, the entire work composed under that name. This is an extract, the core story, retold with an emphasis on Karna. That is all.

Does the End justify the Means?

2011-12-15T11:54:00.000+01:00

When the good guys play dirty...

Photo: from the movie The Mahabharata, directed
by Peter Brook

Here, now, are the Rules of Engagement for the Kurukshetra War; they appear on page 257 of Sons of Gods:

1. Fighting must not begin before sunrise, and not continue after sunset.

2. Multiple warriors may not attack a single warrior.

3. Two warriors may duel only if they carry the same weapons and they are on equal standing, that is, unmounted, or on the same mount: a horse, an elephant, or a chariot.

4. The rules specific to each weapon must be followed; for instance, in mace warfare it is prohibited to strike below the waist.

5. No warrior may injure or kill a warrior who has surrendered; one who has surrendered becomes a prisoner of war, subject to protection through his enemy.

6. The lives of women and farmers are sacred; they must never be attacked or hurt.

7. No warrior may kill or injure an unarmed warrior, or an unconscious warrior, or a person or animal not taking part in the war, or a warrior whose back is turned away.

8. No warrior may strike an animal unless directly threatened by that animal.

Seems pretty civil to me, considering this was, they say, 30 or so centuries ago!

And yet: in the course of the war just about every one of these rules are broken; in fact, all of them, except for number 6. And broken not only by the villains, but by the heroes. The "good guys" use every dirty trick in the book: because they must win to restore righteousness. They use underhand, unfair, despicable tactics -- and they are egged on and encouraged to do so by Krishna who is, of course, the Incarnation of God.

Does the end justify the means?That is one of the debatable questions posed by the Mahabharata.My statcounter tells me that most of the readers of this blog are Indians. You know the story. I'd love to hear from you -- tell me what you think!

A Gap in the Blog... the Hunt for Comma Splices.

2011-12-14T08:35:00.000+01:00

I haven't been posting because I've been hard at work revising the manuscript. At this stage it's down to finding those very last typos, as well as misplaced, missing, and otherwise errant commas. Comma splices are a pet peeve of mine and I don't dare have any in my own book. I'll be back soon.

Ramesh Menon: not just for Mahabharataholics.

2011-12-06T16:55:00.000+01:00

I was in London last week and took the opportunity to visit Watkin's Spiritual Bookshop in Cecil Place, just off Charing Cross Road. I was looking for a copy of Kamala Subramaniam's Mahabharata. I felt I need to own this book; after all, it was my own inspiration, so many years ago, and to it I owe the planting of the Mahabharata seed in my mind, a seed that has sprouted and grown throughout the years. Back then, I had borrowed the book from an ashram library in India. I borrowed it again and again throughout that year, read it over and over till I knew it almost by heart.

So, I ought to buy it. Own it.

There's a second reason I needed to have that book. Though I know that I wrote Sons of Gods from my own memory, without a reference book open to help me, I was afraid that, just maybe, some of the words from my source might have buried themselves into my unconscious and emerged just as they were. To the onlooker, that might be interpreted as plagiarism. After all, I'm writing the same story, and there are only so many ways to write "We must win this war!"
So I was determined to go through the book sentence by sentence and compare it with my manuscript.

Thus my visit to Watkin's.

As it happened, Watkin's didn't have Subramaniam's book. It DID have a beautiful, two volume edition of Ramesh Menon's version. The two hardbacks were in a box, just ready and waiting to fall into my hungry hands. Beyond my budget, true enough, but I couldn't resist. I bought them! You'll see their covers on the right.

I've long wanted to read this version; the only thing holding me back was the price. Ramesh Menon's version is the only modern rendering I have not yet read, and having looked at the sample pages on Amazon this one seemed to me that it could very well meet my very exacting criteria to make it as a standard English work. The writing, judging from the sample, is pretty good, and he does not dispense with storylines I view as essential, such as the story of Bhishma and Amba. And he, too, sites Kamala Subramaniam as his main source for the story -- so we have something in common.

I'm now a quarter of the way through the first volume, and I can only recommend it. If you're looking for a solid, comprehensive, modern long version of the Mahabharata, this is the one to get.

My only quibble is that I felt some of the scenes were too drawn out -- I like tight writing. And, like many Indian writers, he unfortunately has no qualms about delivering spoilers -- the dread of the Western reader. The Ganguli Mahabharata actually summarises the whole story in the first chapters! So, too, does Rajagopalachari. Others tell the reader what is going to happen before it does, which kind of destroys the element of surprise.

Nevertheless, this is by far the best I've read, and if you're a Mahabharataholic, go for it!

To get back to Kamala Subramaniam and the subject of plagiarism. I finally bought her book through Amazon, and it arrived in Germany yesterday. No fear of similarity in the writing. Even at a glance it's easy to tell that her writing style and sentence structure is so very different to mine that I would never have confused her words for mine. I can stop worrying.

I'm also glad to say that it seems I've actually finished revising; the manuscript it almost ready to
go to formatting for Kindle and Smashwords; once that is done, it will be published.

In a matter of weeks!

Before, or just after, Christmas!
Get your ereaders out!

In the meantime, Sample Pages are available right here.

Kindle Breakdown!

2011-12-04T17:15:00.000+01:00

I'm just back from a four-day trip to the UK. While there I read through Sons of Gods once more on my Kindle and found hundreds of things to improve. I bookmarked them all diligently and planned to make the changes on my PC early this morning (Sunday).

So there I was at 6 am all ready and rearing to go and..... WHAT?????!!!!!!
My Kindle screen is only half visible. There's a small dent in it! I can't read a thing!

I had brought it back from London in my backpack and it must have been damaged on the way.
First thing I did was order a new Kindle, but then I cancelled the order because I heard that Amazon's Customer Service is .... rather generous.

I called them at 7 am (on a Sunday!) and told them what had happened. Immediately they agreed to replace it, free of charge; all I have to do is return the damaged Kindle.
So: Thank you, Amazon!

I have, however, lost all those bookmarks. I'll have to read the whole thing again and hopefully re-discover all the details that need changing. It really is only a matter of tiny, tiny details. Should be OK.

I'm thinking of publication around Christmas.

PS. The new Kindle arrived next day, Monday, at 9 am, Special Delivery! Now, that's what I call Customer Service.

Not Just for Scholars...

2011-11-28T23:00:00.000+01:00

The Myths of Mankind video series was something of a marathon ride. In the next few weeks I'll return to discuss some of the issues brought up in the documentary. But for the time being -- if you got the impression that the Mahabharata is just for Vedic scholars, historians, archeologists, anthropologists and other terribly, terribly deep and serious people you'd be very wrong.

What I've left unsaid till now is this: reading the Mahabharata is hugely, delightfully entertaining! It's an absolutely fun read, and it's amazing to see what a great sense of humour its author or authors had in composing it. Take, for instance, Arjuna's year incognito in the court of Vitara. He's been cursed by a beautiful celestial dancer -- an apsara -- to be eunuch for a year -- what better disguise! So Arjuna hangs out in the women's quarters: Arjuna, the greatest warrior, the archetypical alpha male, dressed as a woman!

"... golden earrings dangled from his ears; womanly garments covered his hard muscles and scarred shoulders, so that he appeared as a woman and not as a man. His voice taking on a high womanly pitch, Arjuna delighted the young unmarried maidens with his jokes and stories -- but most especially Uttara, Virata's daughter, who flushed in delight and giggled at his clownish antics. When Arjuna teased the maidens they squealed in merriment and loved him, and never had the women's quarters known such frolicsome days." (from Sons of Gods: the Mahabharata retold)

But then, the Kauravas attack and Arjuna is forced to fight. He has great fun pretending to be useless, putting on his armour back to front and protesting that all he's good for is song and dance.

And then, the great reveal....

Humour is really timeless. The Mahabharata proves it. If we can laugh at the same things that people 50 centuries ago found funny then surely that's proof of the golden thread that binds all humans together. Whether you're 9 or 99: the Mahabharata story is about you. Because it's about the quintessential human spirit, a timeless entity that is as much a part of us today as it was at the dawn of civilisation, beyond change, beyond trends, beyond time and place.

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata, Part Six

2011-11-28T16:48:00.000+01:00

Vedas , Astronomy and Spirituality: is the Word mightier than Stone?

"In the incredible age of Indian civilisation new evidence arises from the one intact source of Indian records so far overlooked: the fact that the word may be mightier than rock. Generations upon generations have passed down the poem before it was written down, the verses remembered with uncanny precision through intricate exercise."

………............................................................................................

"Oral tradition, the words themselves, may have carved a monument that withstands the ages better than rock, that is lost when it is written down; for it goes by the ear, by the rhythm of the heart. The sound silences the mind. It stills all thought: but as the book says, make one mistake, that’s when the snake strikes: when the ear hears. Oral tradition needed no written records. If it could be remembered faultlessly for a thousand years, why not for thousands, or more?"

……................................................................................................

"If the Mahabharata has one message to deliver it is that man should most concern himself with inner peace and real happiness which do not lie here in this world. It’s through understanding this that one grasps the essence of Indian thought.

"The indifference to material possessions evinced by so many here and deemed almost a crime in the west stems from the knowledge that whatever one gains in this world is lost the moment the body is burns to earth, melts and vanishes into air So why concern oneself too much with ephemeral things? It may be a recipe for poverty, but t also one for the kind of riches you can take with you.

"It is there also where lies the greatness of the Mahabharata."

…................................................................................

"Spiritual science it seems, the precise technique of self realisation and liberation, has been a part of Indian society from the very start. Just as those new soldiers and civil servants of empire were told , who understands this understands everything about India, and those who fail to understand it will never understand anything about her."

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata, Part Five

2011-11-28T16:15:00.000+01:00

Destiny and Free Will: is Paradise open to dogs? (watch the video below for the answer!)

“'You must learn to see with the same eye a mound of earth, a heap of gold, a cow, a sage, a dog, and the man who eats the dog. There’s another intelligence beyond the mind.' Krishna in Peter Brook’s Mahabharata.

'Dharma belies the Western criticism of Hindu thought: that it leaves precious little room for free will, that it binds man upon a wheel of fate, a wheel of reincarnation, rebirth; a wheel that goes round and round and round and round and round.

'Dharma offers the escape from the fate of reincarnation; it is the path detached from this world of illusion, to the quintessential truth which Hinduism seeks.

“'From a western point of view it’s impossible to understand that fate, destiny and free will can coexist. Everything in the western mind says if there is fate there isn’t free will, if there’s free will there can’t be such a things as fate or destiny. The Mahabharata cuts that away and puts one in front of something very different, in that freedom exists in a quite different way and that one sees that the great freedom for each character is either to become himself or not to become himself.' Peter Brook, director, The Mahabharata.

It is with this detachment that Arjuna can sound the horn even for the horrors of the coming war. The Pandavas win eventually, but it is a victory that is to deeply trouble them.

"'Every rule is broken. Every single value is destroyed there is no difference left between the people who are good and the people who are evil; there is no difference left between who is the enemy and who is not.' Mallika Sarabhai.

No one can calm the sense of wrongfulness in the mind of Yudhisthira, now king.

From: Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata

“That one work can contain both so much wisdom and entertainment after several millennia is mind boggling and without comparison. If Homer’s Iliad could also contain the New Testament and was as popular today as it was 2000 years ago, even this would not compare with the poem attributed to Vyasa. By comparison Shakespeare himself seems like a lightweight, and indeed, all literary fame pales.

“We find it hard to believe that anything of such magnificence could be a legacy from a time before history began, but in the West our scholars have looked for the cradles of civilisation closer to home. To us India is a mere footnote to history. We require hard evidence, documents, records. And unlike Egypt or Mesopotamia where nothing will decay the Indian climate ensures than nothing, not even the hardest stone carvings, will survive much beyond one millennium.

“But could we be wrong? Instead of a footnote, should India be one of the main chapters of the history books?”

From: Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata. Part Five

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata. Part Four

2011-11-27T16:59:00.000+01:00

Mythology and Religion

"Indian mythology is like a mirror that shows their hearts' desire to all who look into it. So the Hindu in his shrine might greet you with : 'So you are a follower of this Jesus, brought his image with you! He is very nice too! Put him up there too in the shrine, there’s plenty of room!'

"It is so because the original idea was never abandoned; it was merely enlarged, expanded upon for every imaginable taste. To this day though, in his heart, the Hindu really only believes in One ineffable God, creator of everything, to whom everything returns. Not the Christian father high up in heaven but inside us, everywhere, in all.
Sometimes this One is known as Para Atman, whereas the individual soul is atman. Para means supreme: the Supreme Soul.

"Our mind, our senses, separate us from that Soul. Our desires with which we shape the world around us distance us from the divine. So desire triggers the actions that shape reality but desires can never be satisfied, because they are illusory: what is called Maya, illusion, that is both the architect and the substance of this world."

From: Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata, Part 4

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata Part Three

2011-11-27T14:29:00.000+01:00

Archaeology (con'd) and Hinduism

"The quintessence of India, her religion, has remained unchanged ever since the great poem was composed. No invader or coloniser was ever able to overcome it, and indeed many, like the Aryan invaders form the north, were overcome by it, absorbed into its generous complexities.

"Jews were here since the times of king Solomon. India has the distinction of being the only country on earth where they were never persecuted. Almost every religions faith of the world was represented, like Islam in huge numbers, Christians numbering millions; and out of Hinduism have come reforms, movements like Buddhism that became major religions in their own right. But the Indian soul was never been conquered. Vedas and Mahabharata spring from an ancient and enduring civilisation, the scope of which we are only now beginning to fathom."

"The root of Hinduism is not just in the belief in one God, like the monotheism of Christians and Moslems, but that there is nothing in existence besides this One God. God is not only in everything and everyone, he literally is everything. For, asks the Mahabharata, is the drop of rain in essence any different from the vast ocean into which it falls and vanishes? If God is all he is in us, and we are he. Man's quest, therefore, is for the divine within to become part of all, part of God.

"At its core (Hinduism) is more of a philosophy than what we in the West would call a religion. It was out of this philosophy, too austere, intellectually taxing for most, that was born the bewildering diversity of India’s estimated 26 million gods and goddesses.

From: Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata. Part Three

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata. Part Two

2011-11-26T08:52:00.000+01:00

Film and Archaeology

From the documentary:

"Children in School, for example: if there is one child who is very strong or very fat they will say he is exactly like Bhima. And that is the kind of total liveability and contemporariness of the Mahabharata today." Mallika Sarabhai, as Draupadi in P eter Brook's miniseries, The Mahabharata .

But a Bhima played by an actor from Africa?

Director Peter Brook staged the Mahabharata with actors from around the world, making the Mahabharata accessible to people everywhere.

"In all my conversations with Peter I have often asked him why he works with an international group and one of the things he has said is that if in a small group of mixed races and countries we can create something that is harmonious, then the world has a chance. The Mahabharata cuts across everything. It cuts across time, race, colour. It’s the same issues that have continue to face human beings over millennia." -- Mallika Sarabhai

From: Myths of India: The Mahabharata. Part Two

From the documentary:

Our ignorance of the vast age of India’s civilisation was due.. to a tendency to view Europe, our world, as the heart of life on earth, an expedient that was self serving during the heady days of empire.

"We still think that all other civilisations were of minor quality, and that is why we still have difficulties accepting that in the Indian subcontinent something developed that was even more important than the other civilisations. " -- Michael Jansen, architectural history.

From:

Myths of India: The Mahabharata. Part Two

Myths of Mankind: The Mahabharata. Part One

2011-11-25T07:51:00.001+01:00

Here's a great documentary series on the Mahabharata, exploring it in the context of India's history, archeology, sociology etc.Young officers or civil servants arriving for the first time in their new home among the palm fronds and rice fields, or in the heat and dust of a desert cantonment, would commonly be told by some well-meaning old India hand that if they wished to grasp the essence of the place and its people they should read one book: the Mahabharata, the world’s oldest epic by far, and with 90000 verses exceeding the Bible and all of Shakespeare’s plays bundled together by far the world’s longest and greatest epic poem."

From "Myths of India,: The Mahabharata. Part 1".

But why should modern readers, living in the West and eons away from India both in terms of mileage and mentality, want to read a book written centuries ago? What could such a book possibly have to say to them? Why should they pick it up, if there was no previous particular interest in India or its culture?

To this I say: because the story is timeless, and speaks to a dimension of the human spirit that is equally timeless, and behind the action lie themes that are as much a part of the human situation today as they were those 50 centuries ago in a far-off land. Values, that we cherish as much today as did the mythical heroes of this grand story: loyalty, friendship, truth, love, bravery. The "character flaws that drive the action in this story are as much alive today as they were: greed, envy, jealousy, lust, covetousness, betrayal, addiction...

It is a story larger than life, and as relevant to modern day America or Europe as to ancient -- or for that matter modern -- India.
If you have the time, watch the video below. The whole documentary series can be watched on this site:

Myths of India: The Mahabharata

Q & A

2011-11-24T05:49:00.000+01:00

Over the years, whenever I mentioned that I was working on the Mahabharata, people have asked me questions. Such as:
Does the world really need yet another Mahabharata?
That's for every individual to decide. I certainly believe it does; that's why I wrote it!
What does this version have that the others don't?
A long time ago, it seemed to me that with every new version I read, some vital element was lacking. Either the writing was inadequate to truly reflect the subject, or essential elements of the story were missing, or major characters seemed lifeless, or it was just a basic summary without dramatic punch, or it was so long the actual story was buried in a thousand minor sub-plots or stories-within-stories, or it was too scholarly, or had too much authorial intrusion, or it lacked spiritual depth. What I wanted was a book the length of an average novel, a continuous story distilled down to its vital essence but dramatised so as to captivate the reader, with living, breathing characters, spiritually alive and written in an accessible style yet retaining the powerful spirit of the original. That's a lot to ask of one book. It took a long time...
How long have you been working on it?
Over thirty years. I suppose I've been working on it the moment I read my first version, in India in 1974. That was Kamala Subramaniam's huge tome, almost 800 pages long, in hardback with large print. Once I read the first page I could not put it down; I read day and night till it was finished. That gave me the model of what mine should be like: in the words of modern publishing, I wanted it to be unputdownable. And that meant following Subramaniam's example, which was to dramatise the story in her own words, using her imagination to create scenes that would draw the reader in. She achieved that brilliantly. However, her book seemed to be written primarily for children, in short simple sentences, and often too sentimental, especially for modern sensibilities. So while her version completely overwhelmed me by its sheer power of narration, it still left me wanting.
In the following years I bought or borrowed every English version I could get my hands on. But none of these satisfied me. Around 1978 I started on a first draft of my own, and have been working on it ever since. Sometimes I put it away for years at a time, only to dig it out again and improve on it, laboriously retyping everything from start to finish. In the 90's I typed the whole thing on to my first word processor, a very primitive Brother which could only save on floppy discs, a few chapters at a time. Once I had it saved digitally revising became much easier, and more frequent, maybe once a year. It was a labour of love, always at the back of my mind. I didn't even think of publication until recently.
And what made you think of publication now?
The fact that even today, there seems to be no definitive condensation available, particularly for Western readers. And I make no apologies for the fact that this is, in fact, a Mahabharata with a more Western slant. It uses very few Sanskrit terms, and those that it does become clear in the context. I think Western readers in particular should be reading the Mahabharata. It belongs in the annals of world literature, and every educated person should be familiar with it. Its message is timeless, and especially relevant in these turbulent times. I'd like to recommend it to everyone I know, beg them to read it. But then comes the question: which version?
Now that it is possible to self-publish on Kindle, I decided to just go ahead. Now I can say, this version!
Isn't it presumptuous for you, a virtual nobody in the academic world, to think you could rewrite such a classic?
I'm sure many Vedic scholars are going to tear out their hair in horror; after all, I don't know Sanskrit and I haven't read the Ganguli Mahabharata from beginning to end, not even in translation, and I haven't got a PhD in Sanskrit Literature. And I have taken great liberties with the story, putting words into the mouths of the protagonists. I've always felt that presumption, been intimidated by it; asked myself who gave me the right to tackle such a powerful subject.
On the other hand (and this is the answer that always gives me courage): the Mahabharata belongs to everyone. The original versions - despite the Scribe Ganesh's efforts! - were not written but spoken. It was passed on quite literally by word of mouth. I can well imagine storytellers in ancient India with a group of rapt villagers gathered around, listening to this story. I can see mothers and fathers telling the stories to their children, passing the story along from generation to generation in their own words, and each according to his or her own understanding. These storytellers were not Sanskrit scholars. They did not keep to an official text: the best of those narrators would have embellished and dramatised to their heart's content, using their imagination to bring the scenes to life for the pleasure of their listeners. They made it their own. I worked in that oral tradition, that of the storyteller. For that, the only qualification is the ability to tell a good story. And if a story appears with the immediacy and urgency of how this one came to me, that is a call to write.
I do not claim to have written a scholarly version, and of course it is not a translation. Academics are most certainly going to raise objections. But I think I have made a good story out of it, and that is what counts in the eyes of readers. Readers, especially first-time readers, don't care about how close it is to the Ganguli or the Valmiki version. All they care about is loving the story and identifying with the characters.
What was your main source?
I first referred to the Van Buitenan three-volume version to get the basic narrative right, names and so on, though that only covers part of the story. Later, I was able to refer to the Ganguli Mahabharata which is online. Mostly, though, I already knew the essential story by heart and simply pulled it out of my own memory.
Have you made any essential changes to the traditional written versions?
I've given myself a certain amount of artistic licence by dramatising throughout, which means putting words into the mouths of characters which aren't there in the traditional written versions. Here and there I have embellished the story, for instance in the case of the Bhishma/Sikhandin/Amba sub-plot. I've also made a few minor amendments where they serve the inner logic of the story. For instance, it doesn't makes sense for Arjuna to abduct Subhadra after he has won her affection with his sadhu disguise. So I have her choose him at a Swayamvara, which incidentally is also more politically correct. But I did not make this change for the sake of political correctness; I made it primarily because it improves the story.
But these are not essential changes. They were made entirely for narrative purposes, and do not change the main thrust of the story.
You've omitted most of the stories-within-stories. Why?
My first priority in writing this version was to distil it to its vital essence, and a positive side-effect of that is getting it down to a reasonable length. The first things that had to go was a pruning of the stories-within-stories, charming as many of these may be. I kept only those that actually add depth and understanding to the main plot, such as the killing of Ganga's babies, and the story of the demon twins. In some cases I've given brief backgrounds of some of the characters, which had to suffice: Sisupala, Jarasandha, Jayadraha.
What are your own favourite parts of the story; favourite characters?
By far, my favourite is Karna. And it is Karna's story above all that I wanted to tell. Again, I'd like to refer to Subramaniam's Mahabharata, because for all its literary shortcomings it does tell Karna's story beautifully. And I think that it was Karna's story I was always looking for in my hunt for the Mahabharata. In every other English version I've read to date, Karna was just one of a myriad other characters; an important one, true enough, but still not given the weight that he deserves. Always, Krishna and Arjuna are at the centrepiece of these stories.
For me, Karna is the lynchpin of the entire story. Without him there would be no Mahabharata. Without Karna, Duryodhana would never have challenged the Pandavas; he would not have dared. Karna is a tragic, great character, the true hero of this story. I love the fact that he is not black-and-white; he is torn in two by the agonising choice he must make when he learns the truth of his parentage. He is the most complex of all the characters, a solid mixture of weakness and strength, and I have given him place of honour in this version, even bringing forward the story of his conception to make it the prologue. In terms of modern storytelling, Karna's story is the essential "hook", the twist in the tale.
I also love the story of Amba and Bhishma, and have embellished it out a little more than you'll find in traditional versions.
...and favourite scenes?
There are many. Bhishma taking his vow of chastity, Karna's conception, the winning of Draupadi, Arjuna and Uttara in battle together after the thirteenth year, Kunti revealing herself to Karna, Indra asking Karna for a gift, Abhimanyu defending himself against the veterans. And countless scenes involving Krishna: the miracle of Draupadi's sari; Arjuna choosing him to be his charioteer; Krishna showing his true form to the assembled court at Hastinapura; the telling of the Bhagavad Gita; the slaying of Bhishma; the bowing of the army to the Astra of Narayana; the saving of Parikshit. Krishna is the incarnation of Vishnu. The reader should have no doubt whatsoever of the divine power behind him. For me, any version of the Mahabharata MUST have all these scenes in it, dramatised to come over in full force.
And that, finally, is why I wrote this version and sent it out into the world. It wanted to be written.

Many Mahabharatas

2011-11-22T07:16:00.000+01:00

The "Great Bharata" of Vyasa comprises over 100,000 Sanskrit stanzas organized into eighteen volumes. With about 1.8 million words in total, the Mahabharata is one of the longest epic poems in the world, about ten times the size of the Iliad and the Odyssey combined, roughly five times longer than Dante's Divine Comedy, and about four times the size of the other Indian epic, the Ramayana. Within this vastness lies a net of countless stories, one story leading into another and that into another, a veritable mine of ancient Hindu folktales, myths and legends that serve to illuminate the ancient Hindu concept of dharma and adharma: righteous, dutiful, virtuous, wise living versus unrighteous, ignorant living. At its core is the conflict between the Kauravas and the Pandavas, two rival branches of the Lunar clan, culminating in the horrific civil war on the battlefield of Kurukshetra, a holocaust which wiped out the entire warrior caste and ushered in the degenerate Fourth Age of Mankind, in which we are all living today.

There have been many attempts to unravel the Mahabharata’s historical growth and layers of composition . Its authorship is traditionally attributed to Vyasa, an itinerant naked sage who himself appears as a character within the story. Its earliest layers probably date back to the late Vedic period, around the 8th century BC, and it probably reached its final form by the time the Gupta period which began in the 4th century CE. Over the centuries it spread and grew both in Sanskrit and in translation into other languages of India, both through oral tradition and in writing.
With each retelling new digressions and diversions were added on. Hundreds of other stories and philosophical discussions attached themselves to it; Sanskrit scholars and village storytellers contributed to it, adding jewels to the vast mosaic, so that it became a great compendium of myth, folklore and moral theory.

There are many English versions available today, which can basically be divided into translations, condensations, and their hybrid, condensed translations. The most well-known of the translations is the Victorian prose version by Kisari Mohan Ganguli, published between 1883 and 1896 (Munshiram Manoharlal Publishers). The complete 18-volume text is available online, free, here.

Countless authors have attempted the task of paring the vast work down to a readable size, their chief mission being the decision what to leave out, what to include, and what, if anything, to change or add on. These condensations vary in length between J. A. B. Van Buitenan's three-volume version (1981; University of Chicago Press), Ramesh Menon’s two-volume version (2004; Rupa & Co) and several longer or shorter one-volume editions. Some are scholarly works with many annotations; some are popular versions; some are children's books; some are comics. Some are little more than summaries, the bare bones of the story with no attempt at dramatisation, characterisation or embellishment. Some go further, the author fleshing out the skeleton and dressing the basic plot with new details from his or her imagination.

This new interpretation fits comfortably and unashamedly into the last category.

The Spirit of India

2011-11-21T08:22:00.001+01:00

"Only India has preserved the unbroken thread of the human story that binds us all.”

Michael Wood, BBC documentary “The Story of India”.

For 50 centuries the Mahabharata has survived as a cornerstone of Indian culture, loved by hundreds of millions of Hindus as a inexhaustible treasure-house of anecdotes, proverbs and wisdom. Its heroes are held up as standards of dharma, right action; its villains serve as warnings as to the consequences of adharma, wrong action; and it shows the grey area between these two where each individual must make a choice, and live with the results of that decision. It provides a powerful source work for themes in literature, art, drama, dance, song, and, in modern times, film. In it we find history and legend, myth and folklore, fable and parable, philosophy and religion; and last but not least, incredible romance. It’s a book of big ideas, magnificent events, simply a great story. Above all, at its core is the Bhagavad Gita, one of Hinduism’s central scriptures, often called “the fifth Veda”: a fountain of wisdom providing an ethic that has moulded the lives and the mentality of one of the most numerous peoples on earth.

It does this through its gospel of dharma, which runs like a golden thread through all the complex twists and turns in the epic; by its message, through story and characters, that hatred triggers hatred, that greed and violence inevitably lead to ruin; that, finally, the only real victory is in the battle against one’s lower nature; that we must rise above ourselves to be the best that we can be. Into it is woven all the elements of our life on earth, no matter where we may live or to what culture or age we belong; for Truth to be Truth it must be valid for everyone, at all times and all places, above and beyond cultural mores and changing values; it must be independent of trends, for only so can it be truly universal. A book that embeds such lasting truth into a wonderful story can live forever; and that is the secret of the Mahabharata's longevity and value to mankind. W. J. Johnson* has compared its importance to world civilization to that of the Bible, the works of Shakespeare, the works of Homer, Greek drama, and the Qur'an.

Krishna-Dvaipayana, also known as Veda Vyasa, is said to be the author of the original 24,000 slokas (verses); Vyasa is also a character in the book, and, in fact, the biological grandfather of the five Pandava brothers, the heroes of the story. Throughout the epic he makes his cameo appearances, walking into the story as an ugly, naked ascetic covered in ash, and apparently, wearing long dreadlocks. He speaks a few words of wisdom, directs the plot onward (it is Vyasa, for instance, who informs the Pandavas that a bride is waiting for Arjuna at the end of their first exile) and disappears again.

However, it does not seem possible that this vast poem could be the work of one individual; over the centuries, especially in the days when it was passed down orally, many poets and storytellers must have contributed to Vyasa's work.

The Mahabharata spread to become part of the tradition of every corner of India; but it is so powerful it could not be contained in the country of its origin. It has travelled to other Asian countries such as Indonesia, Thailand and Cambodia, and in each different setting it has absorbed some of the flavour of the region. Thus the separate versions of the epic differ from each other; there is not one Mahabharata, but many, though the basic story remains the same: a strong central strand around which innumerable side stories and legends are interwoven to make this epic a vast tapstry of ever-changing nuances.

But the power and appeal of the Mahabharata is not exclusively Asian. This is what Nhilde Davidson of the Northwest Branch of The Theosophical in Washington has to say in his online article A Wonder of Ancient India: The Mahabharata:

“Daunted by its size and a misconception that an intimate understanding of Hinduism was needed, I never considered taking the Mahabharata off the shelf. By accident I tuned into an episode of an Indian television production of the Mahabharata (subtitled in English) -- and I was hooked.

"Ninety-six one-hour episodes later (and many more hours of reading) I am still enthralled and continue delving into this fascinating epic. Its appeal is on many different levels and, through the ages, ascetics and scholars alike have dedicated their lives to studying, collating, and translating the varied and voluminous material. When the series aired on Indian television, railway schedules had to be adjusted as each week almost the entire country sat in front of a TV.

"We all love a hero -- heroic action appeals to children and adults alike -- and these epics are heroic. On a deeper level it is the philosophical depth and the psychological profundity that endure, keeping the stories alive in the soul, drawing one back again and again.”

Thus its spread to the West. Many Sanskrit scholars have attempted the translation into English and other European languages, first and foremost among them the celebrated Ganguli. Others have attempted condensed versions of the epic. Some are mere summaries, with no attempt at dramatisation or characterisation; some have been loosely interpreted, the author adding his or her own imagination to the basic story, in keeping with the oral tradition in which each teller retells the tale in his or her own words and adding new elements to the story. I would like to be part of this tradition.

Some modern Mahabharata writers insist that they do not stray away from the original written text. I make no such claim; I am first and foremost a writer of fiction, basically a storyteller, and in writing this I enjoyed nothing more than the act of getting under a character’s skin, putting words into their mouths and giving them a voice; adding little twists and turns of my own; giving my imagination free rein even as I told the basic central story.

I hope Westerners will enjoy reading this new version as much as I enjoyed writing it.

*W.J.Johnson (1998). The Sauptikaparvan of the Mahabharata: The Massacre at Night. Oxford University Press. p. ix. ISBN 9780192823618.

The Cover-- Revealed!

2011-11-01T16:40:00.000+01:00

Cover design: Burke-Design

Cover artist: Mu Ramalingkum

Thanks to Laura Burke for donating this beautiful cover design!

About the Mahabharata

The central story of The Mahabharata is straightforward: it’s the age-old theme of good against evil, culminating in a cataclysmic war, the Battle of Kurukshetra. On the “goodie” side are the Pandavas: five brothers “like the five fingers of one hand”, each of them sired by a god, for their mother (and step-mother), Kunti, possesses a powerful Mantra that can summon such a divine being to father her children.

The eldest Pandava is Yudhisthira, a paragon of a king. He is everything the world has ever longed for in a leader: just, unselfish, benevolent, upright, peace-loving, yet, if called for, a great warrior.

But is he also weak? When he is cheated out of his kingdom by his arch-enemy, his wicked cousin Duryodhana, he dithers, unsure of the ethics of war, and it takes his warrior brothers as well as Krishna, the Incarnation of God, to end his agonising. Is war right or wrong? A war against one’s own family, friends, teachers?

Even Arjuna, the middle Pandava and the perfect, invincible warrior, dithers at the last moment, and at this point his friend and charioteer, Krishna, delivers the Bhagavad Gita, the jewel in the crown of The Mahabharata: Yes, fight they must, and to the death.

On the “baddie” side are the Kauravas, led by the wicked Duryodhana and his right-hand man Karna, who goads him on; and the whole world knows that Karna is a greater warrior than Arjuna.

We know from the beginning that the Pandavas must win, because Krishna is on their side. The glory of The Mahabharata is in the details: the divine curses and boons they must overcome, the super-powerful astras (weapons charged with mighty Mantras) hurled against them, invincible enemies such as the illustrious Bhishma, their beloved grandfather, who cannot be killed unless he wants to be killed. Even Krishna’s own army, the Vrishnis, an indestructible force, is on the enemy side. But the Pandavas must win. It is pre-destined. The question is how, against such an unassailable force?

That, in a nutshell, is the core story of the Mahabharata, the story that appears in condensed form in so many different versions, loved and retold by Hindus from time immemorial, yet little-known in the West.

A book far bigger than myself

2006-06-23T13:57:00.000+02:00

I first read the Mahabharata in 1973, in India. The version I read was the big fat book by Kamala Subramaniam. I stayed up all night to finish it, and when it was over I decided then and there that this was the Book to end all Books. It was simply amazing. I've been a voracious reader all my life, but never had I been so floored by a story.

I could say this in spite of the less than stellar writing. Subramaniam tends to write in short, jerky sentences, using an abundance of adjectives and adverbs. She spills the melodrama left right and centre, and is not afraid to overdo it in the emotional sector. In a way, the book seems written for children.
But the story she tells in that book is simply magnificent.

The Mahabharata is Hinduism's great epic story. It may be the oldest written story in the world, and certainly the longest. It tells the tale of kings and queens, gods and demons. It goes off on tangents lasting hundreds of pages, yet always comes back to the one main story, the story of the Kauravas and the Pandavas, the two great warrior clans, and the men and women whose lives are entangled in the fight between good and evil;. And yet even in such a story the line between good and evil is not clear and it is this moral ambiguity that keeps those pages turning.

Everything you might find in a modern novel you'll find in the Mahabharata. There's love, sex and betrayal; gender-change, gratuitous violence, addiction, humour, superheroes, mind weapons, atomic bombs, magic, blood and gore aplenty. Finally there's the mighty battle of Kurukshetra; and even with victory "good" is not the clear winner.

After reading the Mahabharata at the tender age of 23 I set out on a mission: to find the perfect version. I was living in India at the time, and I found several editions by various authors, but none satisfied me. They all seemed so lame, so trite, and did not seem to "get" the story. Some seemed simply a literal retelling, or a translation into English, with no thought for bringing the actual story to life, no dramatisation, the dialogue heavy and preachy. Some were merely condensations with no feel for the story. Most were boring.
When I came to the West my mission continued. I found William Buck's version, and read it with enjoyment.
What great language skills! What poetry! Yet William Buck's story is quite a different one to Kamala Subramaniam's - and hers is better. His is disjointed, and lacks cohesion. He goes off on too many tangents, and in my eyes leaves out some of the essential scenes, scenes that were full of dramatic and spiritual power. Or he tells them in just a few words, ignoring their power. Or he substitutes major characters arbitrarily, which makes no sense whatsoever. He does not seem to "get" it. It's not a story; it's collection of mythological tales.

What to do? I continued my mission, but always I was disappointed. Finally, at about the age of 27, I decided to write my own version.

So I began to write. At this time I had not even the faintest thought about actually publishing my version. It was for my own satisfaction alone. It was as if the story was surging up within my imagination, alive and new; I saw, I heard, I lived it. I had been nourishing myself on all these versions for years, and I knew the story by heart; so I wrote it as if it were "my" story, even though, of course, It wasn't. It's everyone's.
I finished my version, but I wasn't satisfied. I was still young; I hadn't done this great tale justice. So I put it aside for the time being.

Years later, I pulled it out, and did some work on it, improving it vastly. But I still wasn't satisfied. What right did I have to retell this wondrous story? I felt too small, too inadequate, too presumptuous.

More years passed. By now I had a computer, so I typed the whole thing out again, on to my computer. Made some dramatic changes; put it away. Still not the least thought of publishing.

More years passed. Now I was a published novelist, and had gathered more storytelling skills. I had a great idea for "my" Mahabharata. I would write it as a novel; write it in a way that has not yet been done. Restructure it, make it original, different; elaborate on some scenes, adding new motives to the characters. I even changed its name. The Mahabharata became "Sons of Gods".

Presumptuous? Of course. I have no right. I'm not a Hindu. I don't even speak Hindi. I have not translated it myself, but gathered my knowledge of the story from several sources. By now I had read Van Buitenen's three huge volumes, which as usual had not satisfied me: though I generally love long books, in the case of the Mahabharata I feel that the main story tends to get drowned away in floods of diversions.
I wanted to find the essence of the story. I felt it would be all the better, all the more powerful, in concentration than in the many, many sidestreets and detours.

Moreover, I was in love with one of the characters. Not the traditional favourite hero, Arjuna; instead, a rather shadowy figure who, I felt, held the key to the whole vast epic. He would be my hero, or anti-hero. Not quite centre stage, but the one my readers will root for, even though they see him hurtling on to destruction. I wanted them to love him even as I do.

The style, I felt, had to be in keeping with the rather flowery, rather formal Indian tradition. It's rather like a tropical garden; think of giant bougainvilleas towering above your head, clusters of brilliant blooms weighing down the branches. The Mahabharata must be that way. It's the epitome of abundance. Nothing in small measure. Bhima has indeed the strength of a hundred elephants. When Karna slaps his arms in challenge, the sound thunders through the world. When Bhishma takes his vow of chastity the gods pour blossoms down from heaven. All very un-Western touches; but without them it just wouldn't be the Mahabharata.
So now it was on my hard disc, and on a floppy. Once more, put aside.

More years passed. My son did Religious Studies for his GCSE's, so I printed out my Mahabharata and gave it to him to read. He loved it, and showed it to his teacher, who also loved it. I put it away again; but I began to think that one day, maybe, I would consider publishing it. But no hurry. The Mahabharata has been around for thousands of years; a year or two or five longer for this new retelling wouldn't make a difference.
I did, however, show the first chapter to my agent. She said it was "unsaleable". Western readers didn't want to read ancient Hindu myths. It wasn't commercial. I shrugged, and put it away yet again.

Recently, it went through yet a new revision. I changed the first chapter, replaced it with a later scene that, I hoped would draw the reader into the story. And the thought of publishing it rose again.

After all, who knows? There's a huge Indian population outside of India who are disconnected from their roots. Perhaps they will enjoy this story, understand their own culture better through it. Many have read bits of pieces of it in comics, or have had some of the stories told them by their mothers and grandmothers. Others know the Bhagavad Gita, but not the circumstances of its birth in the very heart of the Mahabharata. Maybe others, too, were not quite satiated with the many versions out there. Perhaps the market would like my version. Maybe my agent was wrong.

Westerners, too, I feel, would profit from knowing this great story. We read the Iliad, we love the Old Testament; why not this? This epic is one of the cornerstones of world mythology. I feel it will make us all richer.

The Mahabharata belongs to everyone, whether they are from West or East.

So here it is again, in new, fresh clothes.

(Edited to add: the above post was originally written in 2006. I write this note in 2011. How times flies!)