Jagatprakasha Malla’s Grief for His Bosom Friend: Affection Expressed in Maithili and Newari

According to the Indologist Horst Brinkhaus’s article on Maithili dramas from Nepal (Brinkhaus 2003), King Jagajjyotir Malla (r. 1614–1637 CE) of Bhaktapur, one of the three kingdoms inside the Kathmandu Valley, was the first poet and playwright to introduce Maithili as the court language, instead of Bengali. ^[1] Until then, Bengali had been in use in the Malla courts of Nepal. Intriguingly, his grandson Jagatprakasha Malla (ca. 1638 to 1672; r. 1643–1672) was one of the first authors to compose dramas in his mother tongue, Newari, which is a Tibeto-Burman language (Brinkhaus 1987b, 118). Thus, both, the grandfather and grandson, played significant roles in two major linguistic reforms in Nepal. However, Jagatprakasha’s impulse of literary creation in his mother tongue Newari seems to be rooted in his personal emotion, namely, his affection and grief for his deceased bosom friend Candrashekhara-sinha, a high official who served his court (Brinkhaus 1987b, 128–29; 1987a, 10ff.). In his Maithili and Newari songs, Jagatprakasha lays bare his strong feelings for his deceased friend, which could be in some cases qualified as homosocial, or perhaps even as homoerotic.

A Grieving Friend

Candrashekhara-sinha died in the month of jyeṣṭha (May–June) in N.S. (nepāl saṃvat) 782 (1662 CE). Jagatprakasha could not get over the death of his friend for many years (Brinkhaus 1987b, 129). In the dramas he composed, he mentions Candrashekhara-sinha in the bhaṇitās of songs contained in the text. Bhaṇitās are signature verses that poets deploy in the closing sections of their work. Medieval South Asian authors mentioned their names in bhaṇitās as a sort of autograph. In his bhaṇitās, he often expresses his deep grief over Candrashekhara and his ardent desire to get him back to unite with him again. His affection for his friend is conspicuous. Instead of his regnal name Jagatprakasha, he uses the pen name “Jagat-Candra,” which is a blend of their two names, Jagatprakasha and Candrashekhara.

Jagatprakasha’s Newari Dramas

Besides Maithili dramas, Jagatprakasha also composed Newari dramas. For instance, his Mūladeva-śaśideva-vyākhyāna-nāṭaka (The thief Muladeva and his partner Shashideva play), which is based on the legend of the thief Muladeva and his partner Shashideva, is the oldest Newari drama that is available to us in its complete form.^[2] In addition, there is a collection of approximately five hundred Newari songs composed by him.^[3] These songs seem to have originally belonged to several dramas in Newari (Brinkhaus 1987a, 11–12). The manuscript is dated to 1672 CE but reveals no further hints about the exact dates of composition of the contained dramas (Brinkhaus 1987a, 15).

Although pieces of historical information on Jagatprakasha Malla as a competent ruler are found in Regmi’s Medieval Nepal (2007), a standard study on the Malla dynasty, and in Pauḍel’s articles (1965a; 1965b; 1966), much is still unknown about his literary activities, except from Brinkhaus’s studies. In general, the poetry and drama in Maithili and Newari language from medieval Nepal remains an almost unexplored field. In this article, three works of Jagatprakasha are examined: (1) a collection of his Newari songs,^[4] (2) the Maithili drama Mālatī-mādhava, and (3) a collection of elegiac songs in Maithili titled Candraśekhara-viyoga (Grief over separation from Candrashekhara).^[5] The first collection of Newari songs is my main object of research in this study. So far, no one seems to have studied or published their findings on this song collection. Brinkhaus mentions this work in passing, and the classical Newari dictionary contains many quotations from it (Malla 2000). The Mālatī-mādhava is understood as an example of his Maithili plays. The very topic of Candraśekhara-viyoga is the author’s grief and affection for Candrashekhara-sinha.

Appraising Jagatprakasha’s Songs and Dramas

In his songs, Jagatprakasha expresses his immense affection for his expired friend Candrashekhara-sinha, always in grievous tones. Moreover, he has a strikingly idiosyncratic manner. He describes his affection and grief for his male friend in the classical form of love songs, that is, according to the convention of classical Indian love poetry in which usually heterosexual love is dealt with, namely, a man’s love for a woman, or vice versa.

First, I will examine some extracts from Jagatprakasha’s drama Mālatī-mādhava, a Maithili adaptation from the eighth-century-CE Sanskrit poet Bhavabhuti’s drama of the same title, dealing with romantic love. The first instance is a song from a scene in which Queen Ratnaprabha expresses her love to King Pratapashekhara (folio 2 verso, line 5).

// pahaḍiyā // co //
taruna komara pahu ati ra[śi]yā, nāgara catula piyā // sundara //dhru//
vacana madhura tua pika sama vāni, sevalahu isara jāni //
kara dharayite nimikha sari svabhāva, janame jenama rasa pāva //
jagataprakāśa nr̥pa ehi rasa gāva, candraśeṣara devi mirāva //

Oh, my lord! You are young, fresh, and very romantic. You are sophisticated and intelligent, oh my dear!
Your words are soft and sweet like the cuckoo’s voice. I worshipped him like a god (īsara).
Even if I hold your hand just for a second, I will obtain joy (rasa) in each time of rebirth [in the future].
King Jagatprakasha describes this joy/emotion (rasa).

The phrase candraśeṣara devi mirāva in the bhaṇitā seems to mean something like, “Please let the Queen see Candrashekhara!” That means, Jagatprakasha identifies himself as queen. He imagines himself to be the queen who is a character in this drama and expresses his longing for his male friend. Although Candrashekhara was his subordinate, s/he (Jagatprakasha) worships him like a god with sensuous expressions.

In the next song in the same drama (folio 3 recto, lines 1–3), the bhaṇitā runs as follows:

hr̥di abhimata deva deva īsāna, kevala tohara pada jānara dhyāna //
jagataprakāśa kaha mori yaka vora, cām̐daśekhara-siṃha ati hita mora //

O God Shiva-Ishana, the god I revere in my heart! I concentrate on your feet solely.
Jagatprakasha says, my only word (eka bola) is that Candrashekhara-sinha is very dear to me.

Folio 3 recto, line 6 reads:

mālati praveśa // rājavijaya // co //
śaśī vinu niśi sakhi sahaja marāne, isare karathu tarāne //
sāya sāya jauvana kata dina thīra, moti laga kaha sakhi hira //
mati hi nayana duyi caṃcala bhelā, daive na vujhaya ke delā //
jagataprakāśa nr̥pa cām̐daśekhara hāra, janani deyavathu hāra //

The [dark] night is gloomy by nature, without the moon. O God! Help me!
Alas! How many days will my youth remain fit? Oh, my friend! Please give me some advice!
My mind and both my eyes began to tremble unsteadily. I wonder what shall I get for my fate?
King Jagatprakasha lost (hāra) Candrashekhara. O, Mother Goddess Bhavani! Please give me back my necklace (hāra)!

According to Indian traditional beliefs, the twitch of the left eyelid is an omen of good luck for women, while that of the right, an omen of bad luck. In this song, the heroine laments that she cannot determine which fate, good luck or bad luck, she is to obtain, for both her eyelids are twitching.

In this song, Princess Malati, the heroine of the drama, laments over her separation from her beloved Madhava. In parallel, in the bhaṇitā, King Jagatprakasha laments over his separation from Candrashekhara. Here he compares his friend to a necklace on his breast. Indeed, in Indian classical poetry, the necklace is a simile for a woman hanging around the neck of her husband in embrace. In the first verse, the moon obviously suggests Candrashekhara-sinha, as candra in Sanskrit means “moon.”

Mālatī-mādhava includes a description of the beautiful forest garden (upavana) on folio 4 recto, lines 3–6:

// arakārame // adānā // co //
hama to duno vaṃdhu saṃga raṃga karo giyā, harakha-te upavana vihālo //dhru//
kusuma phurata vakula prakāsata, suvāsa jāti ati vikāsata //
aro pyāre tuma som̐ esom̐ vipina para, ki ḍārilākherogitara //
jagata prakāśa nr̥pa prema vasa lahi, candraśekhara sumirata rahi //

I will go and play with my friend, and enjoy strolling in the forest.
Flowers are blooming, vakula (Mimusops elengi) flowers are opening. The fragrance of jasmines is spreading all over.
O, my dear, I will come to the woods together with you. [….]
King Jagatprakasha, under the influence of love (prema), is always remembering Candrashekhara.

Mālatī-mādhava, folio 4 recto, line 7 onward, says:

// mālati-yā andora // āsāvali // co //
adavu(4ver)da mati mori bhela //dhru//
ki bhela manamatha ki bhela nalavala, ki isara thika mola mati rāgara //
vilaha dahana tanu sahi na hoya, ke vidhi rākharahu ehi jiva moya //
juvati hoyava jana juva prabhu sātha, ki kalaya jata gana niya vinu hātha //
jagata-canda bhana moya duhu jola, devi calana mana rāgavathu mola //

I’ve got a strange feeling.
Was he Love God (manamatha), or a prominent man, or a god, he with whom I fell in love?
I cannot bear the burning of my body caused by separation (viraha). What has happened to this life of mine?
Young women should be together with young husbands. What is the use [of youth], without [a woman’s] hand not being grasped [by a husband]?
Jagata-Canda says, I am a couple (literally “the union of the two”). Please let my heart resort to Goddess’s feet!

In the concluding song of the drama Mālatī-mādhava, Jagatprakasha grieves over the impermanence of the world. This song appears also at the respective ends of his other two works, Mūladeva-śaśideva-vyākhyāna-nāṭaka and Candraśekhara-viyoga. He addresses Candrashekhara endearingly as “brother” (bhāyi) (folio 8 verso):

athira kalevara jānu he, kamala pāta-ka jala tulya //
bhavana kanaka jana rajata ādi jata, thira nahi raha sava jāne,,
suta mita (= mitra) sava dhana sukha dukha śarīra, athira jānala mane //
śiri jala salila isare sava kā, mana nr̥pa ava dāse,,
mana-hi pāvaya puṇya adharama apa-jaśa, mana-vasa pāvaya tapāse //
jagataprakāsa āsa kaera tohara, candraśeṣarasiṃha bhāyi,,
jagata janani pada hetha-hi rākhaha, duhu jana ka huhu kāya //

Know that the body is impermanent, similar to a water drop on the leaf of the lotus.
Everyone agrees that so many things such as house, gold, person, silver etc. are all impermanent.
As to sons, friends, wealth, pleasure, grief and body etc., I have understood in my heart that all these are impermanent.
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The mind is the king, and the limbs are servants.
Through the mind, one obtains merit, injustice, or dishonor. Through self-mortification (tapāse), one acquires the control of the mind.
Jagatprakasha makes a wish for you, O Brother Candrashekhara-sinha! O Mother Goddess of the world! Please protect both of our bodies (duhu kāya)^[6] at your feet.

In these scenes from the drama Mālatī-mādhava, Jagatprakasha superimposes his friendship with Candrashekhara-sinha onto the hero’s love with the heroine. Jagatprakasha adopts the vocabulary of love between man and woman in separation (viraha) in metaphorically describing his affection for his deceased friend. Similar instances of describing his affection for his friend in terms of love and romantic attachment are frequently found in his other works, too.

The Newari Songs of Jagatprakasha

Below, some unique expressions from Jagatprakasha’s collection of Newari songs are shown. This study has revealed that the songs contained in this collection are taken from various dramas. Some of these dramas can be identified by the names of characters, such as Kumāra-sambhava, Rukmiṇī-haraṇa, King Divodasa, Goddess Svasthani. Jagatprakasha composed several dramas in Newari besides dramas in Maithili, although his Newari dramas are no more extant in their original complete forms, except for the above-mentioned Mūladeva-śaśideva-vyākhyāna-nāṭaka.

What follows is Number 30 of the Newari song collection, from the Drama of King Divodasa. This song lists characters such as king, queen, minister, and guardian:

// mallālī // a //
paraveśa juyā āva divodāsa rāja, tāla lācakene piyā śaśikalā sāja //
caṃdra kalā candra utheṅāṅa chana mūkha, samaraṃ-jaya āva lāta ceta sūkha //
dhanaṃjaya mantri mantra sara khe nipūna, koṭavāra tira āva sahaja khelūm̐na //
jagatacaṃda ne-mhā cha-mhā juyakāva, pe-guli padāratha bio lācakāva // 30 //

King Divodasa, now having entered the stage. His beloved Shashikala makes proper preparations.
Your (i.e., Divodasa’s) face is handsome like the moon accompanied by the moon digits.
The winner of wars (= Divodasa) now acquired the joy of mind.
Minister Dhanamjaya knows how to give counsel skillfully.
The guard of the stronghold now puts on gold easily.
May God Shiva make the two persons, Jagat[prakasha] and Candra[shekhara], into one person (i.e., Jagata-Canda), and make him attain the four aims of life (i.e., puruṣārtha).

No. 40: From the drama Kumāra-sambhava:

// nāṭa // e //
yogini-panisa yoga siddhi yāya thāyasa, cvā poyā parvvata je vāsa yāṅā sām̐sa //
kalāta khe menā nāma pāravati mhyāca, sakhina sevā yāva thva sundari mhyāca //
paraveśa juya dhuno bhumisa vihāra, bhārapase yāṅā-guli juiva vicāra //
jagatacanda jura cha-guli śarīra, bachivana śarīra khe paramao vīra // 40 //

I am the mountain of snow (i.e., Himalaya), [which is] the place where female ascetics (yoginī) attain the perfection of yoga, and I dwell here and take breaths (i.e., practice prāṇāyāma, the breath control of yoga).
My wife is Mena by name, and Parvati is my daughter. Female companions serve this beautiful daughter.
I, roaming on the earth/ground, have already entered the stage.
One should carefully deliberate one’s plan (i.e., of Parvati’s marriage to Shiva).
Jagat-Candra (i.e., Jagatprakasha and Candrashekhara) have become one body. It is the supreme hero (vīra) just [because of] the body [is shared] half-by-half.

The expressions such as one body shared by two persons, or the union of two into one, seem to be the allusion to ardhanārīśvara, or the androgynous manifestation of Shiva and Parvati. These are, for instance, comparable to the bhāṇitā of song No. 24 (Praise to Shiva):

jagatacanda-na dhāra gaurī devī śīva, ne-mhā-na cha-mhā juva paṃcasena hīva //

Jagatacanda said, “the five [prominent men of the town (i.e, Bhaktapur)] consider the two, Goddess Gauri and Shiva, to be one.”

“Five prominent men” seems to refer to the pan͂cāyat, the traditional administrative committee of a village, or a rural community, consisting of five prominent persons. It seems to be a variation of the conventional phrases such as “wise men (guṇi-jana) know” or “the world knows.” Also, compare this with No. 29 (Praise to Shiva):

jagatacaṃda-na dhāra śivayāke sevā, devī śaṃkara ne-mha cha-mha si-se devā //

Jagatacanda said, “I worship Shiva, knowing the Queen (i.e., Parvati) and Shiva to be united as one God.”

It should also be remembered that his friend’s name candraśekhara, meaning “the one who has a moon on his forehead” is one of Shiva’s epithets. The Kumāra-sambhava, which was originally composed by the great Sanskrit poet Kalidasa, describes the story of Shiva’s encounter with Mount Himalaya’s daughter Parvati and their marriage. In his adaptation from this work, Jagatprakasha, the king of the Himalayan kingdom of Bhaktapur, seems to take the role of Parvati and expresses his/her ardent yearning to be united with Shiva.

In the next instance, Jagatprakasha’s grief over the loss of his friend is superimposed on Shiva’s grief over the separation from Parvati.

No. 41: From the drama Kumāra-sambhava:

// śrī // co //
satiyā viyoga dukha citasa saṃtāpa, o vināna thana vayā sahajanaṃ tāpa //
dakṣiṇana ova phasa śarīrasa kava, ma-date kalāta o-mha jeo uthe thava //
naṃdi bhr̥ṃgi gaṇa-pani dasena chu yāya, citasa kevala oo mathā napālāya //
jagataprakāśa nr̥pa thva-mha the samāna, candraśekhara siṃha ma-dase athāna // 41 //

There is pain because of my separation from Sati (= Goddess Parvati). There is agony in my mind. Coming here without her, there is agony by nature (sahajanaṃ).
The wind that comes (ova) from the South afflicts my body. For me, there is no wife other than she.
What shall I do even if my attendants like Nandi and Bhringi are with me? In my mind, there is only the desire to meet her quickly.
King Jagatprakasha is in the same condition as this God. Without Candrashekhara, [this world] is a wrong place.

No. 26: From the Rukmiṇī-haraṇa:

jagatacanda-na guṇa guputa ma-yāka, thethena khe ne-mha jana saṃsarga lāka //

The two persons, Jagata and Canda (jagata-canda), not hiding their own virtues/characteristics, had contacts with each other just in the [same] manner as it is (or: they are).

This seems to express the same intention as seen above. That is, that the two became one and become “brave men” (vīra). As to the expression, “in the [same] manner as it is,” it is not clear what it means. It lacks the context to elucidate its exact meaning.

The following is an extract from song No. 52, from an unknown drama of two businessmen, Siddhisinha and Buddhisinha:

jagatacanda pada parama kathīna, seharape tava dukha premayā vihīna //

The word jagata-canda (or the state of jagata-canda) is extremely hard, enduring the great pain without love/the beloved.

No. 85: Deśavarṇanā, i.e., description of Bhaktapur city in which the drama takes place:

jagatacanda pada taleju-na bīva, ne-mha-sa piriti-na jagata-na śīva //

The word/name/state^[7] jagata-canda was given by Goddess Taleju. The love between the two persons is well known by the world.

Indeed, his deep sorrow for the lost friend is the basso continuo sounding in every dramatic work from his later years of life, however merry the plot may be, even in his Newari comedy the Mūladeva-śaśideva-vyākhyāna-nāṭaka.

The name of the great thief Muladeva’s partner is Shashideva. The story is a kind of slapstick comedy describing the two thieves’ adventure, that is, the same kind of story that is even now very often seen in Hindi entertainment movies. Here, it should be noted that Shashideva, which literally means the “god of moon,” is associated with Candrashekhara.

Elegiac Songs in Maithili

Jagatprakasha composed a collection of elegiac songs in Maithili, the Candraśekhara-viyoga (also titled the Gīta-pañcaka), in which he laments Candrashekhara’s death, adopting the style of love song in separation (viraha). His formulations frequently have a touch of the erotic.

Consider Ms. A 285/22, folio 28 recto and verso:

How many times we enjoyed pleasure together! Candrashekhara is my necklace.

mālava, kharjati
āṭha pahara sakhi raha mori saṃga, je mohi abhimata, kara kata raṃga //
ehana hita priya, āve kata gela, se vinu tanu ka ari jīva hi bhela //
ave nahi dhairaja, hamara parāna, pati vinu rati mori, bhela upamāna //
jagata prakāśa bhana, tohahi adhāra, cām̐daśeṣara mohi ūra ka hāra //

My friend stayed with me until the eighth pahara (i.e., toward the dawn). He was sympathetic to me. How many times we loved (lit., played with) each other!
So good was my beloved, but where did he go now? Without him, my life has become an enemy of my body. Now, my life can’t bear it anymore. Love (rati) without my husband is equal to insult (upamāna, i.e., apamāna).
Jagatprakasha says: You are something which cannot be grasped (adhāra). Candrashekhara is the necklace on my breast.

In other songs in this work, Jagatprakasha describes Candrashekhara as a “very handsome man” (vara sundara) (folio 23 recto). His face was like the moon, while his eyes, like a pair of cakora birds. In other songs, he compares the smoothness of Candrashekhara’s thighs to the stem of the banana tree (folio 7 verso–8 recto) and his slim waist to that of the lion.

Historical Data on Candrashekhara-sinha

According to Brinkhaus (1987a, 16), it was only in his later stages of life that Jagatprakasha began to compose Newari dramas. It seems that his creative activity of composing dramas in his mother tongue was somehow connected to his grief over his friend.

Unfortunately, nothing concrete about the biography of this Candrashekhara-sinha is known to us, except for a few fragmented incidents. For instance, a coin dated N.S. 782 (1662 CE) has the name Jagatprakasha-malla inscribed on one side, and Candrashekhara-siṅg [sic] on the reverse side (Brinkhaus 1987b, 128; Regmi 2007, 222 and 1040).

Jagatprakasha married Candrashekhara’s daughter. According to an inscription of N.S. 787 (1667 CE), Candrashekhara-sinha was his prime minister (vara-amātya-agraṇī); Jagatprakasha married his daughter Annapurnalakshmi, “for [Candrashekhara-sinha’s attainment of] the heavens (svarggāya)” (Pauḍel 1965b, 23 footnote).

In this inscription, Jagatprakasha says:

jehi mori jiva-tula candraśekharasiṃha sehi //
[…] cām̐daśekharasiṃha tua tula nahi jana / mori hr̥di tohaha virāje //

Candrashekhara-Sinha is equal to my life. No one is as precious as he is for Jagatprakasha. Candrashekhara-sinha resides in his heart.

Candrashekhara-sinha seems to have been older than Jagatprakasha. In the Akasha Bhairav Temple of Bhaktapur, there are two statues of worshipers, one of Jagatprakasha, and the other of Candrashekhara-sinha. The latter is depicted as more elderly than the former (Pauḍel 1966, 22–23).

Such scarcity of historical materials does not permit us to draw out any conclusion with certainty as to what kind of personality this Candrashekhara-sinha was, and what kind of precise role he played for Jagatprakasha. Only those literary works in which Jagatprakasha describes his friendship with and love for this person are currently available to us. Their mutual relationship was undoubtedly characterized by immense affection.

It is well known that in the laudatory poetry of medieval India, gods and rulers are praised in the manner in which the god or ruler is equated as the poet’s male lover, while the poet identifies himself as a female admirer. Also, in the instances that have been demonstrated in this article, King Jagatprakasha also takes the role of a female admirer. However, it is indeed a rare case that a king praises his minister; that is, his subordinate, adopting such ardent formulations that sometimes even tend to be erotic. I do not know of any other comparable instance.^[8]

Conclusion

Nothing definite is known about Jagatprakasha’s motive for composing dramas in his mother tongue of Newari. However, as demonstrated by my analysis above, his Newari dramas were always permeated by his affection and grief for Candrashekhara-Sinha. This phenomenon might be seen as being stimulated by Jagatprakasha’s personal affection and sorrow. That means, the intensity of his personal emotion spurred him to express his genuine sentiments in his mother tongue. At that point in time in the Kathmandu Valley, after many years of translation from Sanskrit, Bengali, and Maithili literatures into the Newari language, the latter language had attained just enough maturity and sophistication as a literary language to enable him to do so. In other words, the intensity of personal emotion and the maturity of a language concurred at this point of history.