365betÓéÀÖ

Folk literature is based on the materials of actual life; pure literature is inspired by a creative faculty rich with the wealth of imagination. When these are blended together, a new literary impulse is born and literary renaissance follows. In the same way, when there is the impact of an outside literature upon our own, there is a revulsion of feeling against our own literary tradition and ideals. This conflict inspires literary men to serve the traditions and ideals of the new literature, and in doing so they bring a new wealth of vocabulary, idioms and images to their own literature. A mixture of the two purifies and enriches taste; words and images become varied; and a new literature is born.

Between the second and the tenth century, folklore came to be woven with Sanskrit literature and the texture of a new literature came into being. Workers in the field of local literatures tried to reach the heights of Sanskrit classical tradition. Students of Sanskrit brought down its beauties into the language of the people. In every Province, during these centuries, folklore came to be translated into Sanskrit and Sanskrit literature was adapted into provincial languages. All over India the general culture was the same, the forms of art had very little difference and the outlook on life was more or less similar. This unity of culture became clearer and more outstanding by being shaped and expressed through Sanskrit.

About the tenth century, a new age came into existence and new forces were born. The Prakrit and Apabhramsa became dead languages. Real life, yearning for artistic expression, tried to express itself through the language of the masses and thus the provincial languages came into existence. The culture and literatures which were one, became leavened by the new emotion, Bhakti. The songs of the Bhaktasbecame the heritage of the whole country. Chaitanya, Ramanuja, Madhva, Vallabha, Mira and Narsi, Soordas and Tulsidas, Eknath and Tukaram, the literary apostles of the age, were inspired by one outlook and made the foundations of unity stronger. With their influence the local language of each Province quickened into life. The worn-out traditions of Sanskrit and Prakrit literatures were forgotten. A new literature sought to re-acquire beauty through the provincial languages.

This movement had its antithesis in the activities of Pandits and Pauranicswho, not satisfied with the literature of their own Province, sought inspiration from the Mahabharata, Ramayana and Puranas. Translations and adaptations created a new lite­rary tradition. In Gujarat, Bhalan and Mira sought inspiration from Bhagavata; in Maharashtra, Jnaneshwar and Eknath from Bhagavad Gita; in Karnataka, Naranappa and Narahari Pandit from Ramayana, Chatu Vithalnath from Bhagavata. In Hindi, Tulasidas recreated Ramayana; in Bengal, Jayadev, Chandidas and Vidyapati fashioned a new literary tradition out of the wealth of the Bhagavata. Again the warp of folk literature was laid on the weft of Sanskrit literature and a new literary impulse sprung up.

In the nineteenth century, Indian imagination came into contact with the culture and literature of England and a new generation of literary men sought inspiration from Victorian Romanticism. ­Poetry became subjective; poets preferred love themes to Bhakti. Narrative became emancipated from metre. Novels took the place of Puranas. Drama under the inspiration of Shakespeare became popular. The old literature was looked down upon and English literary traditions became the fashion of the day. This led to an antithesis; in every province, Sanskrit attracted greater attention; new schools sprang up which looked to Sanskrit alone for inspiration; language became rich and elastic under the influence of Kalidasa and Bana, whose works dominated the imaginative efforts of rising literary men. A new literary renaissance began. Then came synthesis. The traditions of English and Sanskrit literatures were blended to produce the new provincial literatures. We find today that in most of the languages the novels and lyrics are cast in the same mould. Novels in the early beginning were exhibiting a curious intermixture of Scott, Lytton and Bana. Bankimchandra’s novels, which were the product of this conjoint influence, led to similar creative efforts in all languages in India. Tagore’s poems have created distinctive schools everywhere. Mahatmaji’s writings have infused into every language a tradition of self-control and proportion, and in the fire of nationalism even provincial differences have begun to disappear. Thus the whole literature of India reflects the cultural unity of India. It has been nourished by the same influences and its result in form and sub­stance is the same.

Gujarati, Marwari and Rajasthani have been evolved from Western Rajasthani, which, in its turn, descended from Sauraseni Apabhramsa. This family is closely allied with the Hindi spoken in Bihar, the Punjab and Orissa. Marathi and Gujarati are closely allied to each other and so are Bengali, Hindi and Gujarati. The Dravidian languages are all closely allied and contain a large element of Sanskrit. Kannada, Telugu and Malayalam have so great a Sanskritic element that if they are written in Devanagari script, they could in some measure be understood by all Indians who speak the languages of the Sanskritic family. The unity which thus underlies all these languages is created by their common Sanskritic element, and if that element is given its due predominance in the Hindi of the future, it will serve as a medium for literary exchange.

I see no reason why we should be afraid of emphasising this common Sanskritic element in our languages. Our provincial languages will have neither richness nor beauty if Sanskritic elements are eliminated. This is not a question of sentiment but of fact. If I want to express beauty or higher thought through one of our languages, I have naturally to draw upon the resources of Sanskrit. I cannot use English words because they will be entirely unfamiliar to my audience. It would be impossible for me to use Persian or Arabic words because I do not know them. The only way open to me is to use Sanskrit words which are familiar both to me and to my audience.

There is no need to eliminate, from a language, foreign of local words which have become current in it; artificial attempts to Sanskritise our language must be given up. Words commonly used in the everyday intercourse of men have an expressiveness of their own and are necessary to give charm and piquancy to style. Without them it would be difficult to appeal to the hearts of ordinary men.

Every language has two forms. One is intended for the common intercourse between men and men; the other is reserved for expressing high efforts of imagination and thought. The first form should be such as to be understood by all; the second must stimulate and foster thought and imagination. You cannot create great literature out of the linguistic resources of folklore. You cannot compose Gita Govinda out of the language in which Sohinimeharis written. The difference between folklore and great literature, which embodies beauty, is fundamental. It is a difference which lies between the medium of common intercourse and the medium of artistic expression. The difference is the same which lies between the folk-songs of Sakuntala, on which the story in the Mahabharata is based, and that quintessence of beauty–the Sakuntalaof Kalidasa. Great literature and its language are not matters for the bazar. To the common mind it will always remain unfathomable. Every mason cannot build a Taj Mahal. You cannot build a Taj Mahal for every villager. And if we want to build a literary Taj Mahal through our provincial or national language, and to make its beauty enduring, you cannot do without the lovely marble quarried from Sanskrit literature. While our lingua franca can only be based on Hindi-Hindustani in which simple words acceptable by all can find a place, the basic vocabulary can be Sanskritic. But room must be found for Persian and Arabic words which have become current, as also words of European language necessary for daily intercourse. A variety of this lingua franca may have a larger percentage of Persian words. It will be principally written in the Devanagari script with optional Urdu script. Anyone may use the Roman script if he is so inclined. This is a subject which would fall within the jurisdiction of Hindi Prachar.

But the medium for the commonwealth of Indian literatures can only be a simplified Sanskrit, that is, an element common to all the languages of the Sanskritic family and to the Dravidian languages which are dominated by Sanskrit, fitted into the framework of Hindi-Hindustani. Through this language the literature of all Provinces and of Urdu can be brought into an­ inter-provincial exchange; and every provincial as well as Urdu literature can draw upon it as much as it likes; and in the end the literature and culture of India would grow in uniformity and attain clearer unity. This would be the field of activity for the Bharatiya Sahitya Parishad. To draw the wealth collected in this exchange into Urdu, and to bring Urdu literature to this exchange, must be the principal function of the Hindustani associa­tions of the United Provinces. But all these activities leave the field of the provincial Parishad untouched. Social intercourse and creative art are only possible through the medium of the mother­ tongue. Other languages are like step-mothers; they cannot give form to the true vision of beauty which a literary man may have. A national language, and the bringing about of a commonwealth of literatures fall within the province of distribution, whereas creative art is a matter of production and can only be done through the medium of the mother-tongue. Facility of distribution may stimulate production; and the exigencies of distribution may determine the nature of production; but the true secret of production is the richness and fertility of the soil, of the mother-tongue. Whoever serves his own language will truly serve the commonwealth of literature; whoever helps to build up a national language or literature will ensure the growth of his mother-tongue. India is a nation; it is becoming a mass man; it throbs with the impulse of becoming harmonious; its literary men have been dreaming of one language, one script and one literature as they never did before. This situation raises before every literary man in the country a vista of unending development and growth. What the literary men of today have to do is what generations of literary men never could do before: out of the agonies of their soul they have to create a literature in which one might hear the throbbings of India’s heart, yearning for unity. A new age of unity is before us. Our duty is to forget our differences, to “body forthâ€� our unity through literature, to seek expression for our growing ideals of beauty. In pursuing our goal we have, forgetting everything else, humbly to surrender ourselves to the spirit of the first and the greatest of literary artists, Vyasa, the author of the Maha­²ú³ó²¹°ù²¹³Ù²¹, in and through whom the culture and literature of India are one; whom generations of literary men have looked up to for inspiration and guidance; who has been described as â€�Brahma without the four facesâ€�, â€�Vishnu with only two armsâ€�, and â€�Shankara without the third eye.â€�

� Reprinted from Triveni, Sept. 1936