1. Commentaries and the formation of the canon
For Ven. Dr Dodamkumbure Dhammadassi
Pali commentaries are helpful in examining the textual formation of the Pali canon. The commentaries that have come down to us were composed between the fifth and fifteenth centuries in Sri Lanka and south India. A remarkable feature of these works is that they preserve a number of scriptures that were purposely excluded from or could not be included in the canon. As these sources say, some of the scriptures appear to have been deliberately shunned on the grounds that they were not rehearsed during the three communal recitations (saṅgīti), which are said to have been held in the fourth–third centuries bce, and furthermore they did not suit the doctrines of the Mahāvihāra fraternity.Footnote 1 I wonder whether some of the early scriptures, though they did not deviate from the Mahāvihāra viewpoint regarding the Buddha's word, could not be included in the canon because it had already been closed. Many of that kind of scripture would have continued to be transmitted alongside the canon as “apocryphal” or “peripheral”Footnote 2 texts, before they fell into complete oblivion over the course of time, while others have partially survived in the Pali commentaries. The commentators cite passages from such peripheral discourses from time to time in order to support their exegeses.Footnote 3 A careful examination of such paracanonical passages recorded in the Pali commentaries is of great importance in tracing the formation and gradual development of the canon.
2. Kāludāyi in the Pali canon
References to the Elder Kāludāyi are limited in the canon. As far as I know, there is no reference to this Elder in the Vinaya-piṭaka, nor can a single discourse preached to him or preached by him be attested in the Sutta-piṭaka. Apart from one reference in the Aṅguttara-nikāya, which presents him as foremost among the disciples who inspire confidence in families,Footnote 4 no other attestation can be found in the first four Nikāyas. However, three texts of the Khuddaka-nikāya contain several references to Kāludāyi. For instance, the Theragāthā preserves ten verses ascribed to him.Footnote 5 It is interesting to note here that ten verses of the Mahāvastu, itself a part of the Vinaya-piṭaka of the Mahāsāṅghika-Lokottaravādins, closely resemble the aforementioned verses of the Theragāthā.Footnote 6 Furthermore, the Jātaka mentions him in passing only to say that he was born as the king of the gods (Sakka) in a previous existence.Footnote 7 Interestingly, the Apadāna contains two starkly dissimilar “accounts of meritorious deeds” (apadānas) ascribed to Kāludāyi. According to the concluding remarks of both these apadānas, which were obviously added by the redactors of the canon (saṅgītikāras), the verses were uttered by Kāludāyi,Footnote 8 yet the first apadāna as a whole has no specific details about him.Footnote 9 On the other hand, the second apadāna is highly informative, and moreover corroborates the statement in the Aṅguttara-nikāya.Footnote 10 In addition, the second apadāna contains four important details about Kāludāyi: 1. In his previous life, in the presence of the Buddha Padumuttara, he made an aspiration to become the foremost of disciples who inspire confidence in Gotama Buddha's dispensation among families;Footnote 11 2. Kāludāyi and prince Siddhattha were born on the same day;Footnote 12 3. Kāludāyi was sent to Gotama Buddha by Suddhodana to receive ordination; 4. Kāludāyi, after the attainment of arahantship, persuaded the Buddha to visit the city of Kapilavatthu.Footnote 13 These details, to some extent, agree with Kāludāyi's verses in the Theragāthā.
3. Kāludāyi's verses in the commentaries
Although mentions of Kāludāyi are confined to these four accounts, commentarial sources preserve a wealth of references to him. Many of the commentators show a special care when they describe Kāludāyi's role – perhaps because he was conceived of as one of seven characters born at the same time (sahajātā) as prince Siddhattha.Footnote 14 Buddhaghosa offers a folk etymology for his name: Kāludāyi was initially called “Udāyi”, since he was born on a day when all the city's inhabitants were joyful, yet he subsequently became popular as “Kāludāyi” on account of his darker complexion.Footnote 15 As we noted in the preceding passage, Kāludāyi prompted the Buddha to visit Kapilavatthu. On that occasion, as a number of commentarial accounts state, he praised the beauty of the season as well as the attractiveness of the road from Rājagaha to Kapilavatthu, reciting “sixty gāthās”.Footnote 16 As already indicated, the Theragāthā preserves only ten verses recited by him. This shows that there is an inconsistency between the Theragāthā and commentarial records with regard to the exact number of verses. Furthermore, with the exception of the first four verses, the Theragāthā does not appear to be either a request to the Buddha or a eulogy to the road from Rājagaha to Kapilavatthu as enunciated in the commentaries. The thematic coherence of the verses in the Theragāthā indeed suddenly collapses after the fourth gāthā, and the six verses from the fifth to tenth are disconnected from the first four.Footnote 17 The internal inconsistency of these two series of verses suggests that they were poorly stitched together by the redactor compiling verses attributed to Kāludāyi. However, the commentary to the Theragāthā attempts to resolve this by seeking to establish a link between the ten verses.Footnote 18 Here, one should mention that the commentary to the Aṅguttara-nikāya,Footnote 19 when describing Kāludāyi's gāthās as consisting of “sixty verses”, quotes the following stanza, which is absent from the Theragāthā:
It is neither too cool nor too hot, and there is neither extreme famine nor hunger.
The earth is green with grass. O great sage, this is the time.Footnote 20
The commentaries to the Jātaka, the Buddhavaṃsa, the Apadāna as well as the Sāratthadīpanī (itself a sub-commentary to the Vinaya-piṭaka) are slightly different in this case. These sources place the first of Kāludāyi's verses in the Theragāthā (starting with aṅgā rino d āni dumā bhadante)Footnote 21 before this gāthā, thereby recording two stanzas in this context. Remarkably, in the Burmese Chaṭṭhasaṅgīti Tipiṭaka edition (BCS) of the Madhuratthavilāsinī, the commentary of the Buddhavaṃsa inserts another 62 gāthās between these two verses. Thus, the BCS records 64 stanzas here. These stanzas are nonetheless not recorded in either the PTS or Sinhalese editions.Footnote 22 An editorial remark, appearing in the footnote of the BCS of the Bv-a, states that these stanzas were preserved in old palm-leaf manuscripts (porāṇatālapaṇṇapotthakesu).Footnote 23 It is obvious that the motif of 60 verses is close to the 64 verses appearing in the Bv-a.
The commentary of Kāludāyi's second apadāna in the Visuddhajanavilāsinī (Ap-a), moreover quotes a different series of verses as his eulogy. This series consists of 48 stanzas, and its structure is quite interesting. The poem begins with a series corresponding to the ten stanzas recorded in the Theragāthā, but after the fourth gāthā, the stanza quoted above is inserted. These 11 stanzas are then followed by another 37 gāthās that cannot be traced back to any other Pali canonical or commentarial source.Footnote 24 It is worth noting here that the Ap-a introduces this series of stanzas as being from the Theragāthā.Footnote 25 Both the PTS and SHB editions moreover mention that “further stanzas are found in a couple of”Footnote 26 manuscripts. The 48 stanzas recorded in the commentary of Kāludāyi's second apadāna are very different from those of the 64 stanzas attested in the BCS of the Bv-a.Footnote 27 For convenience, I shall henceforth apply the label KTh1 to the series of stanzas attested in the Bv-a, and KTh2 to those in the Ap-a. If we subtract the ten verses attested in the Theragāthā, it is clear that there is a total of 100 further gāthās attributed to him in both KTh1 and KTh2.Footnote 28 However, the dates of these two peripheral series are debatable. It should be noted here that the motif of “sixty stanzas” (saṭṭhimattāhi gāthāhi) occurs in many commentarial sources. Although the term mattāhi, meaning “measuring”,Footnote 29 can point to slightly fewer or slightly more than sixty stanzas,Footnote 30 it cannot point to around one hundred. The Theragāthā as available to us today does not have any chapter with a hundred stanzas. All the chapters of the text are arranged sequentially, and its final chapter, the Mahānipāta, contains only 70 verses.Footnote 31 Although the motif of 60 stanzas of Kāludāyi has numerous attestations in Pali exegetical literature, it is as far as I know foreign to the canonical texts of the non-Theravāda Buddhist schools whose literature is extant in Indic languages. As noted above,Footnote 32 the Mahāvastu records only ten equivalent verses attributed to Kāludāyi in the Theragāthā. According to the frame-story of the Śiriprabhamṛgarājajātaka of the same work, Chandaka and Kālodāyin were sent by Śuddhodana as messengers (dūtā), and were ordained by the Buddha.Footnote 33 The Saṅghabhedavastu of the Mūlasarvastivādin Vinaya also contains a similar account.Footnote 34 However, there are no references to the 60 verses associated with him. The antiquity of the two peripheral series of Kāludāyi's verses appears to be questionable when we consider how commentarial sources recorded them. Both the Bv-a and Ap-a are relatively late commentaries. The latter text is in fact much later than all the other Pali aṭṭhakathās. Idiomatic differences and syntactic anomalies that appear in this work testify to its later origin. As already pointed out by GodakumburaFootnote 35 and von Hinüber,Footnote 36 its date is uncertain. According to the colophon of the Ap-a, which is slightly confusing, a person named Mahāsāmantaguṇasobhana brought it to Laṅkā.Footnote 37 Regrettably, the colophon does not state whether this Guṇasobhana was a monk or a layperson, and further it does not mention whether or not he himself composed this commentary. Although the Gandhavaṃsa ascribes the authorship of this commentary to Buddhaghosa,Footnote 38 scholars have been reluctant to take this late attribution at face value.Footnote 39
Concerning the Bv-a attributed to Buddhadatta, it must be later than the Atthasālinī, the commentary to the Dhammasaṅgaṇī (fifth century ce) since the latter is referred to in the former.Footnote 40 The exact date and authorship of the Bv-a, has been much debated, and in my opinion, no definitive solution has been reached to this day. Up until recently, scholars placed its date between the fifth and eighth centuries ce.Footnote 41 Dimitrov, however, in his chapter on “The Madhuratthappakāsinī”,Footnote 42 has rejected the traditional attribution of the Bv-a to Buddhadatta. He argues that it was composed instead by Ratna in the tenth century ce.Footnote 43 To reach this conclusion, Dimitrov examines a great wealth of primary and secondary sources. While this chapter is no doubt very informative and erudite, it also contains several misinterpretations and unfounded speculations; as a result, the overall argument is unconvincing. In particular, Dimitrov insists that the Pūjāvaliya (13th c. ce), a medieval Sinhalese work, attributes the authorship of the Buddhavaṃsa to Buddhadatta, and this source is one of the cornerstones of his dismissal of the traditional attribution of the work.Footnote 44 The Pūjāvaliya, however, does not support this interpretation, but instead clearly credits the commentary of the Buddhavaṃsa to Buddhadatta.Footnote 45 In Dimitrov's lengthy chapter, I do not see any decisive evidence that would suggest that the author of the Bv-a was not a Buddhadatta,Footnote 46 but was instead the tenth-century polymath Ratna. Although I am unable to date precisely the Bv-a, it seems to me that a closer examination of the sources transmitted in this commentary is necessary before the date of the work can be revisited.
The Manorathapūraṇī of Buddhaghosa (5th c.) records only the single stanza of Kāludāyi that I discussed above. This stanza is in fact reminiscent of the first two lines of the great disciple's second verse in the Theragāthā.Footnote 47 One could thus suppose that Buddhaghosa himself rephrased these two lines when recording Kāludāyi's account,Footnote 48 and that the KTh1 and KTh2 were composed in a later period, as a means to reach the figure of 60 stanzas attributed to Kāludāyi in earlier Pali commentaries, such as the Manorathapūraṇī and Samantapāsādikā. This seems to suggest that the verses of Kāludāyi underwent diverse developments and changes during the process of transmission in Theravāda Buddhist history. The disparity of the phraseology employed in the KTh1 and KTh2 hints at their different authorship and autonomous developments. Nevertheless, one might suspect that the KTh1 and KTh2 pre-date both the Madhuratthavilāsinī and the Visuddhajanavilāsinī since these two commentaries rely on earlier commentaries from which the two series were borrowed.Footnote 49 It is within these early commentaries that the KTh1 and the KTh2 have most probably been preserved. As will be made clear in the following discussion, the stanzas of KTh1 are likely to have been composed after those of KTh2. For the sake of clarity, I shall here discuss these two series of stanzas one after the other in the following two sections.
Part one
4. Kāludāyi's verses in the Madhuratthavilāsinī
The KTh1 offers a beautiful eulogy to the environment of India in spring.Footnote 50 It begins by describing the trees with red shoots and sprouts, and then proceeds to illustrate various well-fruited and well-flowered trees and creepers standing on both sides of the road, and divergent species of birds with charming cries and antelopes with diverse behaviours. The author is keen to describe the meadows, shiny sand, ponds endowed with pure water and beautiful lotuses, the mountains, sky, peacocks, bees, fountains of water, rivers, woodlands, and so forth. Ascetics who bring terror to the mental defilements frequent the forest.Footnote 51 In particular, the forest, as this description shows, is conducive to the rapture of mental concentration.Footnote 52 However, some of the stanzas offer mildly titillating sentiments to the reader. The following stanzaFootnote 53 illustrates how the poet adds a romantic beauty to the work.
Indeed, numberless creepers attached to the trees, just as damsels united with [their] beloved male partners, perfumed with fragrance, indeed seduce [the sentient beings]. O great hero, it is the time of Aṅgīrasas.
4.1. Special features
Repetition is one of the ubiquitous features of the KTh1. The poet uses the same word in many stanzas to characterize different flora and fauna seen along the road and in the forest. For instance, vicitta and vicitra are used to qualify trees,Footnote 54 foliage,Footnote 55 forest,Footnote 56 lotuses,Footnote 57 ponds,Footnote 58 colours,Footnote 59 feathers of birds,Footnote 60 and so forth. Similarly, he indicates a strong preference to collocate virājamāna and suvirājamāna (shining) with divergent things in a variety of contexts such as trees,Footnote 61 creepers,Footnote 62 ground,Footnote 63 meadows,Footnote 64 rivers,Footnote 65 antelopes,Footnote 66 ornaments,Footnote 67 and so forth. These two adjectives are not attested in the Pali canon.Footnote 68 Modern scholarship has identified the recurrence of the similar terms throughout a poem as a rhetorical device called “concatenation”.Footnote 69
4.2. Metres
The last two stanzas of the KTh1 are octosyllabic (Anuṣṭubh),Footnote 70 and the fourth pāda (line) of every stanza, from 1 to 62, is constant, being always samayo mahāvīra Aṅgīrasānaṃ. This recurring pāda is dodecasyllabic (Jagatī). The second pāda of the first stanza, phalesino chadanaṃ vippahāya is hendecasyllabic (Triṣṭubh) and the first line of the fifty-eighth stanza, vicittapākārañ ca toraṇañ ca, is also Triṣṭubh. It is worth noting that prosodic works such as Vṛttaratnākara and Vuttodaya do not identify the cadences (vṛtta) of these two-verse pādas. Notably, the latter pāda, which is closer to a prose sentence than to a part of a poem, is more likely to be the result of distortion due to the intervention of “metrically deaf scribes”.Footnote 71 The corresponding stanza in the Theragāthā reads this pāda as samayo mahāvīra Bhagīrasānaṃ, which corresponds to the Kamalā cadence of the Jagatī metre. The first three pādas of the majority of the stanzas from 1 to 62 are mixed with popular cadences of the Triṣṭubh (Indravajrā and Upendravajrā) and Jagatī (Vaṃśastha and Indravaṃśā) metres. Interestingly, the first pāda of the sixtieth stanza, Suddhodano munivaraṃ abhidassanāya, with 14 syllables, belongs to the Vasantatilakā cadence of the Śakvarī metre. The third pāda of the fifty-sixth stanzaFootnote 72 is in the Sumukhī cadence of the Triṣṭubh metre. Both the third pāda of the seventeenth stanzaFootnote 73 and the third pāda of the fifty-seventh stanzaFootnote 74 belong to the Jagatī metre. These two pādas, however, can be recognized as slight deviations on Indravajrā and Upendravajrā cadences. With the exception of the Vasantatilakā cadence, many of the metres and cadences stated here are common in the Pali canon. The poet's metrical licence also involves several unique features as we see in the following passage.
4.3. Peculiarities in wording
Some syllables are artificially lengthenedFootnote 75 while some are shortenedFootnote 76 metri causa. Similarly, it can be deduced that some syllables were intended to be pronounced as shortened although they are long. For instance, the second syllable of passesu Footnote 77 appears to be articulated as a short syllable.Footnote 78 On the contrary, some short syllables might have been expected to be pronounced as long. The first syllable of the thirty-fifth stanza bahu,Footnote 79 for example, could be included under this category. Moḷini Footnote 80 and maṇimayehi,Footnote 81 which perhaps crept into the poem because of graphic confusion from the copyists, deviate from the Upendravajrā cadence. The pādas of certain stanzas are quite incoherent, due to the lack of necessary syntactic components in the stanza. For example, samantato gandhaguṇatthikānaṃ Footnote 82 requires an object. Yet, sometimes the clipping of words in the stanzas is discernible. For instance, 61a reads n’evāgataṃ passati neva vācaṃ. The careful reader, however, is able to identify the ellipsis of suṇāti,Footnote 83 which needs to be supplied for the stanza to make sense.Footnote 84
4.4. Infrequent forms
Some erroneous wordings have presumably crept into KTh1 due to aural confusion. Of these, khuddaṃ Footnote 85 for khudaṃ (hunger),Footnote 86 and kucanti Footnote 87 for kuñcanti (trumpet)Footnote 88 are especially noteworthy. Nevertheless, one can argue that these types of changes are made by the poet for metrical reasons.Footnote 89 In addition, piñchā Footnote 90 for picchā (peacock's tale),Footnote 91 narādhipattaṃ Footnote 92 for narādhipaṃ taṃ (that king), and madappabāhā Footnote 93 for madappavāhā can be explained both by graphical or aural confusions. The close resemblance of ca and va, both in Burmese and Sinhalese scripts, seems to have led the copyists to produce some incoherent readings.Footnote 94
It is apparent that the composer did not take great care with grammatical accuracy. In other words, the author is not eager to follow conventional grammar rules. In some cases, the moods of verbs are changed to fit the metre. The use of viroci Footnote 95 instead of virocati is a clear example of this.
The use of causative instead of simple active present tense is another notable feature of this series, such as pabhāsayanti Footnote 96 (illuminate) for pabhāsanti (shine). It should be borne in mind that this feature is not alien to the Pali canon. For instance, this pāda also occurs in Kāludāyi's verses in the Theragāthā.Footnote 97 The meaning of the causative form is not appropriate here – the poet is seemingly using this form as present active to preserve the metre.Footnote 98 This usage, i.e. the expansion of e to aya, can be seen in several places in the KTh1.Footnote 99 Perhaps because of his preference for nasal endingsFootnote 100 in the verses, the poet converts some masculine gender nouns into neuter such as sucibhūmibhāgaṃ Footnote 101 instead of sucibhūmibhāgo;Footnote 102 pathaṃ Footnote 103 instead of patho.Footnote 104 These neuter endings do not always suit the verb.Footnote 105 Although one may wish to justify the nominative of paṅkajapuṇḍarīkā Footnote 106 and the genitive of narāmarānam Footnote 107 as having instrumental and accusative meanings respectively by reason of Pali exegeses,Footnote 108 some such usages occurring in the present series are hardly perceptive. The second pāda of stanza 48, disā ca cando suvirājito va (“the moon is as though illuminating the directions”), provides a clear example of poor grammar. In fact, the author could have instead formulated this pāda as either disā ca candena virājitā va or disā ca cando ca virājitā va to ensure the accuracy of both grammar and metre. The following stanzaFootnote 109 also demonstrates the poet's lack of grammatical proficiency.
There are fabulous villages in every city, ever frequented by various kinds of birds constantly living in them. O great hero, it is the time of Aṅgīrasas.
It is obvious that the subject of this stanza is gāmavarā. I am not sure if it is due to a mistake in transmission that the author characterizes it as nisevitaṃ instead of nisevitā, which is the accurate form. Furthermore, nekadijehi does not accord with vasantā. A case could be made, however, for the use of vasantehi for metrical reasons. Besides this, the stanza is tainted by tautological oddity: nisevita (lit. “frequented”) does not usually require further specification niccaṃ (lit. “always”). This first line looks rather awkward when it connects with satataṃ vasantā (lit. “always living”) in the second pāda. We know that both niccaṃ and satataṃ are synonymous.Footnote 110 Some words are apparently redundant here. As a result, although this stanza carries an alliteration, it is overall of fairly poor quality.Footnote 111
In addition, some peculiar words and compounds can be found in this series: for instance, the use of the compound sambuddharājaṃ (fully-enlightened king),Footnote 112 which is the word's first attestation in Pali literature. This term occurs rarely even in Sanskrit sources.Footnote 113 The term gatīnaṃ Footnote 114 is presumably used in the sense of gacchantānaṃ (for those passing by) to keep the metre. Similarly, sugītiyantā Footnote 115 occurs instead of sugīyamānā or sugāyamānā, but is apparently incorrect. Furthermore, uttuṅgakaṇṇā Footnote 116 (lit. “high ears”), which refers to a deer, seems slightly unusual, and the proper term to characterize the running deer with erected ears is ukkaṇṇā.Footnote 117 To the best of my knowledge, neither in the canon nor in the commentaries is there a reference to uttuṅgakaṇṇa.Footnote 118
4.5. Figures of speech
Simile (upamā) is the most common rhetorical device in the KTh1. At four places in this series, the poet compares various kinds of forests with Nandana, the celestial park.Footnote 119 Of these four, the following instanceFootnote 120 is particularly remarkable since it equates one simile with another, which is extremely rare in the Pali canon.
The long forest appearing as a colourful blue cloud resembles the park [named] Nandana in the world of the lord among gods [i.e. Sakka].
This literary device is similar to Mālopamā (multiple simile) in Sanskrit poetry.Footnote 121 Some expressions such as duma[…]pabhāsayanti Footnote 122 and rukkhā virocanti Footnote 123 can also be recognized as hyperboles because the trees do not really shine or illuminate the forest.Footnote 124 The poet sometimes purposely uses words that diverge from their common meaning when describing some activities of animals. This tendency can be considered as one of the strategies adopted by him in order to strengthen the aesthetic beauty of the poem. While some verses attribute human nomenclatures to animals, some stanzas even attribute human activities to them. The following are three impressive examples that belong to this category.
1. dijā[…]modanti bhariyāhi samaṅgino Footnote 125
The birds … rejoice united with [their] wives.
2. mayūrasaṅghā[…]naccanti nārīhi samaṅgibhūtā Footnote 126
The flocks of peacocks dance on the summit of mountains united with [their] females.
3. alī vidhāvanti Footnote 127
The bees are running.
Although bhariyāhi and nārīhi literally refer to human wives and females,Footnote 128 these two terms occur in the above accounts to denote female birds and peahens respectively. Usually, the sweetheart of a male bird is referred to by the term priyā (Pali piyā)Footnote 129 in Sanskrit poems, and the term morī basically stands for peahen in Pali literature.Footnote 130 In accordance with the literal meaning of the third example mentioned above, the bees are running.Footnote 131 However, bees do not run, they fly. The flight of a bee is expressed with the verb paleti Footnote 132 in the canon. Hence, vidhāvanti looks absurd prima facie. It is justifiable to assume this to be one of the rhetorical devices employed by the author to strengthen the poetic value of his work.
4.6. Date and authorship
Buddhadatta, the author of the Bv-a, was highly regarded and considered a “great poet” by his successors.Footnote 133 Thus, the suspicion might arise that he composed the KTh1 himself and put it in Kāludāyi's mouth to fit the motif of “sixty” stanzas stressed in a number of commentarial sources consulted by him. In the Bv-a, Buddhadatta composed a number of stanzas in metres and cadences using elegant phrases, to introduce some pivotal events related to the Buddha's biography.Footnote 134 These stanzas are replete with lucid syntactical connections and well-formed wording. Accordingly, deviations from conventional grammatical rules and metres are rarely found in Buddhadatta's stanzas, and no tautological oddities are encountered therein. On the other hand, as indicated above, the KTh1 contains a number of deviations from the grammar and metre, and tautology is one of its striking pitfalls. It is, therefore, highly improbable that these clumsy pādas came from the learned commentator's pen. There is no clear-cut evidence for the date of these stanzas. However, the Vasantatilakā line mentioned aboveFootnote 135 suggests that some stanzas of this series are quite late. The Pali canon rarely contains verses with 14 syllables per lineFootnote 136 and no single pāda in the Vasantatilakā is attested therein. This cadence is not common even in Pali commentaries.Footnote 137 It should be remembered here that the Bv-a does not contain any other stanza composed in this cadence. In addition, uttuṅgakaṇṇā,Footnote 138 which appears in the present series, betrays in my opinion a Sinhalese influence, which suggests the relative modernity of some stanzas.
Part two
5. Kāludāyi's verses in the Visuddhajanavilāsinī
The KTh2 runs from pages 533 to 537 in the Ap-a.Footnote 139 Although the influence and intervention of the Burmese textual scholarship is manifest in many stanzas of the present series, there is no clear evidence to help us decide whether or not the additional 37 stanzas were composed by a Burmese poet at a later period. Most of the stanzas from 12 to 48 in this series are fairly close to the tone of the gāthās in the Jātaka, Apadāna and Buddhavaṃsa. The composition of the series apparently dates back to the time of these three canonical works. The phraseology of the KTh2 suggests that it is earlier than the KTh1. Presumably, this is a creation of redactors (dhammasaṅgāhakas) who are fairly familiar with the idiom of the stanzas in the Pali canon. The following chart represents the similarities of wording between the aforementioned three canonical texts and the KTh2.
5.1. Relationship between Kāludāyi's verses and the Pali canonical texts
Table 1 sets out the similarities of wording between the three canonical texts, namely, the Jātaka, Apadāna, Buddhavaṃsa, and the second series of verses attributed to the Elder Kāludāyi.
Table 1 The Canon and KTh2 compared
The structure of the KTh2 has already been briefly discussed in section 3. Unlike the KTh1, this series has four different constant lines. Stanzas 12 to 19 offer a eulogy to the trees bearing sweet fruits – such as mango and wood apple – located on both sides of the road. Beginning in stanza 20, a description of blossoming trees runs until stanza 25. The last pāda of each stanza from 12 to 21 has a constant line gantukālo mahāyasa (“O glorious one, it is the time to go”); but from 22 to 34 it varies as samayo te mahāyasa (“O glorious one, the time [has come] for you”). The reason for the change of the constant line in this manner is not clear. We can observe that the majority of the trees in bloom that we come across from stanza 22 onwards are comparatively small.Footnote 140 However, it is not certain whether the poet has chosen a different constant line for these stanzas considering the smallness of the trees. This description turns into a eulogy to the quadrupeds living around the road from stanza 27, and it continues up to stanza 34, preserving the same constant line. Beginning in stanza 35, there is a charming portrayal of various kinds of birds seen around the road, which comes to an end in stanza 41. The constant line at the end of all the stanzas in this description is changed to kālo te pitu dassane (It is the time for seeing your father). Stanzas 42 to 48, which create a stunning picture of the lotus ponds around the road, have a different constant line samayo te ñātidassane (it is time for seeing your relatives). It is difficult to identify the reason for the shift of constant line in this series. However, this change undoubtedly adds an extra elegance to the poem.
5.2. Lacunae and corruptions
Generally speaking, the wording of the stanzas of the KTh2 is fairly clear. Nevertheless, compared to the KTh1, a number of stanzas are distorted. Regarding this, it is worth looking closely at its thirty-fourth stanza, in which one pāda is apparently missing. It runs as follows:
[There are] many hares, jackals, mongooses, squirrels, giant squirrels, musk-deer and rhinoceroses that are courageous. All of them [appear] as singing. O greatly reputed one, the time [has come] for you.
Obviously, this stanza originally consisted of six pādas, but it has been reduced to five pādas in the editions that we use nowadays. This assumption is further confirmed since many of the preceding and following stanzas consist of six pādas. The way of recording this stanza in the PTS, BCS and Siamese editions seems somewhat problematic.Footnote 141 As these editions suggest, the editors seem to have understood that it is the fifth pāda of this stanza that is missing. Furthermore, these editions relate that the fourth pāda is kevalā gāyamānā va. This pāda, however, is highly unlikely to occur as an even line in any Anuṣṭubh verse; it is far more likely to be an odd line. Therefore, according to my understanding, the lacunary pāda is in fact the fourth one, and kevalā gāyamānā va the fifth. It was misapprehended, by metrically deaf editors, as the fourth pāda of the present stanza and recorded accordingly. The meaning of the pāda, moreover, fits as the preceding line of the constant line. Many fifth pādas of the KTh2 that precede constant line typically speak of the way in which various quadrupeds and birds show their reverence to the Buddha. For instance, the fifth pāda of stanza 39 runs as follows: sarehi pūjayantā va, “as if offering with their cries”, while the same pāda of stanza 40 reads gāyamānā sareneva, “as if singing in a rhythmic tone”. Therefore, it is in fact the fourth pāda that is lacking. This pāda probably conveyed something relating to the manner of those wild animals flocking to see the Buddha by the sides of the road.
In addition, the KTh2 contains a multitude of other instances of contaminated readings. One can thus assume that the original version of this series would have been considerably different from the present form as it has come down to us. Expressed differently, the KTh2 has evidently undergone many minor corruptions, substitutions and emendations at the hands of diverse scribes and editors over the centuries. I have already mentioned that all ten verses of the Theragāthā are quoted at the very beginning of the KTh2. Interestingly, these stanzas differ remarkably from those of the Theragāthā available to us today.Footnote 142 This is a striking testimony to the variations and distortions that have crept into the KTh2. Despite the corrupted readings that resulted from both aural and graphical confusions, it seems that the copyists have also produced a notable number of arbitrary readings as a result of applying their limited knowledge of Pali grammar to the poem. It would not be unreasonable to argue that many of the ambiguous terms and substitutions that we come across in these stanzas came from Burmese copyists and editors. It is sufficient to focus on a few contaminated readings within the KTh2.
The term mocci, occurring in the first pāda of the KTh2 15, seems corrupted. The neighbouring context of this stanza speaks of diverse kinds of fruits. The context of the first two pādas of this stanzaFootnote 143 strongly suggests that mocci stands for a kind of plantain. Although no compelling evidence is yet at my disposal, I would suggest that mocañ (ca) was the original reading, eventually turned into mocci ca as a result of graphic confusion.Footnote 144 Similarly, the KTh2 reads the first pāda of stanza 30 as tidhammabhinnā chaddantā.Footnote 145 Here, the first term, tidhammabhinnā, is obviously a corrupted reading of tidhā pabhinnā as accurately emended in the BCS.Footnote 146 In this case, it is clear that dhā-pa has turned into dhamma. Two things have seemingly paved the way for this alteration. First, the scribe may have misread pa as ma owing to the close similarity of these two characters in Burmese script. Subsequently, he may have corrected dhāma, which makes no sense in this context, to dhamma. The copyist who is not closely acquainted with Pali tends to replace less familiar terms with more familiar ones, which is a common trend in manuscript transmission, well known to Textual Criticism.Footnote 147 Apparently, tidhā pabhinna occurs in the canon to describe rutting elephants.Footnote 148 It is said that a liquid exudes from three places of the rutting elephant's body, namely, the eyes, ears, and male organ.Footnote 149 Furthermore, paccasevakā,Footnote 150 which occurs in the fifth pāda of stanza 33, is only partly intelligible. Although sevakā (servants) is obvious, it is not clear what the author intended by pacca. However, when considering the whole stanza, I presume pacca is an aural confusion of pajja, the contraction of pi+ajja.Footnote 151 With this conjecture, we are able to restore this pāda as follows: te pajja sevakā addhā.Footnote 152 The reading saddhimittādike is also unintelligible. The literal meaning of this term, “with friends and so forth”, makes no sense in this context.Footnote 153 The present distorted reading may have therefore been caused by the intervention of a copyist not proficient in Pali. Some dubious readings in this series remain to be further scrutinized. For instance, KTh2 29a reads naṅkulā, while KTh2 34a reads naṅgulā. The BCS amends these readings to nakulā, “mongooses”,Footnote 154 in both places. If this replacement is correct, naṅkulā and naṅgulā constitute two contaminated readings that most probably resulted from a Burmese copyist's aural confusion of nakulā. It is rather difficult to distinguish k and g in Burmese pronunciation of Pali. I am inclined to believe that naṅgulā (KTh2 34a) stands for a kind of monkey. Even though no such kind of primate is identified with this name in the canon, the Theragāthā and Jātaka speak of go-naṅgula.Footnote 155 According to the commentary of the Theragāthā, gonaṅgula means either a kind of black monkey or just monkeys in general.Footnote 156 The author of KTh2 may have dropped the first syllable of this term (i.e. “go”) metri causa.
5.3. Metres
With the exception of the fourth stanza, which is Anuṣṭubh, all of the gāthās quoted from the Theragāthā belong to Triṣṭubh and Jagatī metres. The fourth pāda of the first stanza in the KTh2, samayo Mahāvīra Bhāgīrasānaṃ (O great hero, it is the time of Bhāgīrasas), belongs to Jagatī metre with an unknown cadence.Footnote 157 The third pāda of the ninth stanzaFootnote 158 has 13 syllables and is thus in Atijagatī metre. It should be noted here that the corresponding pāda of this stanza attested in the Mahāvastu is apparently in Indravaṃśā cadence.Footnote 159 The tenth and eleventh stanzas are basically a mix of Indravaṃśā, Indravajrā and Upendravajrā cadences, except the last pāda of the former stanza, composed in Kamalā cadence. Stanzas from 12 to 48 are in Anuṣṭubh metre. Many of these stanzas are more specifically pathyā vakras.Footnote 160
5.4. Grammar and special features of wording
Some peculiar wordings can also be noted in the KTh2. For example, nibbhītā yena kenaci Footnote 161 is an unusual pāda of which the literal meaning “are fearless by anybody” seems rather awkward! The poet could have used na bhītā yassa kassaci – a more idiomatic utterance. The Pali canon typically uses the dative case to convey this idea.Footnote 162 In addition to this kind of unusual statement, the series also contains deviations from conventional Pali grammar. The word sevamāno Footnote 163 is one such problematic term. It is not impossible that sevamāno here replaces seviyamāno (Skt. sevyamānaḥ),Footnote 164 to fit the metre. If so, this term refers to the Buddha. On the other hand, if one takes sevamāno as an adjective for the trees described in this context, the term must be singular with plural sense (i.e. sevamānā). Many such deviations from the grammar can be considered as the poet's metrical licence. Although sabbadisā Footnote 165 appears to be nominative, it gives locative meaning in this particular context. It is significant to note that Dhammapāla also asserts the locative sense of this term here.Footnote 166 In disā sabbāni sobhayaṃ,Footnote 167 sabbāni is neutralized, presumably for metrical reasons. In addition to this, sobhayaṃ obviously occurs in the plural sense, in lieu of sobhayantā. Perhaps the last syllable of the latter term is dropped metri causa.Footnote 168
5.5. Tautology
As with the KTh1, tautology is a salient feature even in the present poem. In Indic poetry, tautology is considered as a rhetorical device called yamaka, a kind of paronomasia.Footnote 169 Nevertheless, when it occurs without this special purpose, it lessens the poetic elegance of a stanza. This feature sounds especially odd in metres with fewer syllables, such as Anuṣṭubh. For instance, niccaṃ occurs twice in KTh2 16 to express the same meaning, “constantly”,Footnote 170 and gandha (fragrance) is used three times in stanza 24.Footnote 171 Needless to say this tautology makes the meaning of some stanzas rather convoluted. It is worth looking at the following two pādas of stanza 21:
These kinds of oddities lead one to presume that the composer of the KTh2 is sometimes careless about the wording of his poetry. It seems that some tautologies are deliberately used to strengthen the alliterative beauty of the poem, such as tittirā susarā sārā, susarā vanakukkuṭā,Footnote 172 although susarā could possibly have two meanings here.
5.6. Figures of speech
Unlike the KTh1, the KTh2 makes use of a limited number of similes.Footnote 173 Of these, khuddakappaphalā,Footnote 174 “honey-like fruits”, is particularly noteworthy. None of the typical illustrative terms such as va, iva, viya, and so forth are used in this simile, but instead kappa is used. One may be inclined to separate khuddakappa into khuddaka and appa. However, it is semantically illogical. Kappa (Skt. kalpa) rarely occurs in the canon to introduce similes.Footnote 175 Hyperbole, which occurs in several places, adds an extra elegance to the KTh2. According to the twenty-third stanza, kaṇikāra trees in bloom diffuse heavenly scents: dibbā gandhā pavāyanti. The term dibbā, which literally means “divine” or “heavenly”,Footnote 176 occurs here to qualify the adorable scent of kaṇikāra Footnote 177 flowers. This usage is attestable in the canon.Footnote 178 In the stanza 13, moreover, fruited trees are shining, while in stanza 20, flowered trees are radiating. Similarly, in stanza 42, the ponds filled with sweet water are sparkling. These can be identified as examples of the use of hyperbole in this series. One can recognize a metaphor when reading the last two pādas of stanza 8 in conjunction with stanza 11:Footnote 179
I, the sage who is truly named, well begotten by you, suppose the god of the gods [also] is capable of [doing it]. I am the son of the Enlightened One who bears the unbearable, of the incomparable Aṅgīrasa who is like that. O Sakka, you are my father's father, and reasonably, you are O Gotama, my grandfather.
Kāludāyi uses ahaṃ[…]tayābhijāto muni saccanāmo to introduce himself. In the Theragāthā, it is common for Elders to introduce themselves as a muni, “sage”,Footnote 180 especially in the verses appearing as soliloquies. Using tayābhijāto (lit. well begotten by you), he metaphorically expresses that he is a son of the Buddha, on the grounds that he has attained liberation under the former. This echoes the Aggañña-sutta, where the Buddha explains the reason why he counts his disciples as his children.Footnote 181 The metaphorical relationship introduced in the first two pādas culminates in the verse quoted above where Kāludāyi further emphasizes the Buddha as his father, and therefore King Suddhodana is his grandfather. Stanza 29 says that tigers, Sindh horses and mongooses appear as good but frightful.Footnote 182 Since this statement carries two contradictory ideas, it can be called an oxymoron.Footnote 183 In addition to the figures of speech related to meaning, the KTh2 is also replete with literary devices associated with rhythm,Footnote 184 such as twining and alliteration.Footnote 185 At times, the poet is capable of producing attractive alliteration effortlessly by simply arranging the elements of the stanza.Footnote 186 Some stanzas in this series contain more than one literary device as follows:Footnote 187
Excellent Asoka trees and coral trees that are pleasing [with] fragrant [flowers] tied in bunches, adorned with red colours, appear as if respectfully bent [with their] uppermost tops. O greatly reputed one, it is your time.
Obviously, somanassakarā varā, sugandhā kaṇṇikā gandhā and uggaggā are alliterations. The stanza as a whole provides a clear example of anthropomorphism since it attributes human characteristics to Aśoka trees and coral trees, describing them with their bent tops, as paying homage to the Buddha. In a slightly different manner, KTh2 23, 24, 30, 31, 34, 39 and 40 present the same idea but as an assumption. Therefore, this literary device is attested as utprekṣā,Footnote 188 but some scholars have compared it to personification.Footnote 189 Some peculiar expressions used in this series nevertheless remain to be categorized as literary devices or otherwise. For instance, 30ad says that “tuskers are twittering”!Footnote 190 It is interesting to note that the author uses kūjino in place of gajjino in order to convey elephants’ trumpets. The elephant's trumpet is usually illustrated with gajjeti or kuñcati, and kūjino typically refers to birds twittering.Footnote 191 It is not quite certain whether or not the author purposely uses these as literary devices. Perhaps, kuñcino was the original reading that has been turned into the present form as a result of aural confusion and scribal intervention.
Concluding remarks
This article initially looked at the references of two schools to the Elder Kāludāyi in canonical sources available in Indic languages and then turned to look at the Pali commentarial discussions of this figure. Thereafter, the KTh1 and KTh2 were analysed, paying special attention to phraseology, special features, peculiarities in wording, tautologies, metres, figures of speech, lacunae, corruptions and clues as to the authorship of the two series. The foregoing discussion demonstrated that the verses of Kāludāyi in the Theragāthā contain several anomalies. On the other hand, the motif of Kāludāyi's 60 verses is widespread in the commentaries. The KTh1 and KTh2 are two peripheral series of verses ascribed to Kāludāyi and preserved in the Bv-a and Ap-a respectively. The style of the latter version is closer to some of the texts in the Khuddaka-nikāya, and it is apparently older than KTh1. Both series are endowed with charming eulogies to the environment, and they are adorned with an array of literary figures. However, a considerable amount of contaminated and unintelligible readings that have crept into the poems have undermined their poetic value. This article suggests emendations for some corrupted readings in the KTh2. According to the Ap-a, KTh2 was included in the Theragāthā. This statement cannot simply be ignored. It is probable that these old stanzas could not be accommodated within the Pali canon but then continued to be preserved in the commentaries as peripheral texts. Nevertheless, KTh1 and KTh2 contain 100 stanzas in total, which contrasts starkly with the motif of 60 stanzas stressed in a number of commentaries. Moreover, I suggest that the two series have reached their present form as a result of autonomous developments, and that they stem from different authors. Some stanzas in the KTh1 appear to be much later interpolations. However, as of yet, there is insufficient evidence to establish whether or not the whole series is of very recent composition. The authorship of the KTh1 and Kth2 remains to be identified in future studies. More research is needed to identify all the rhetorical devices used in both series. Researchers who have additional expertise in zoology, specifically ornithology or botany, will be able to do more justice to the contents of the KTh2.
