Book Reviews   
The Mahabharata of Vyasa Books 1 and 2: The Complete Adi and Sabha Parvas transcreated from Sanskrit by P. Lal
Weaving in
Skilled Unmindfulness – 2
by Pradip Bhattacharya

Unlike the 19th century translators KM Ganguli and MN Dutt, Prof. Lal neither omits sexual passages “for obvious reasons”, nor Latinises them. The sole translation that is a transcreation, it consciously aims at providing a sense of the original by effortlessly shifting from lyrical verse to trenchant prose, as Vyasa’s text demands, preserving the Sanskrit ethos throughout. We are not brought up short by jarring medieval turns of phrase that are anything but Vyasa as with van Buitenen’s “barons”, “chivalry” and the like, nor have we to stumble over the Victorian prose of Ganguli and Dutt. Mahatma, pranama, namaskara, ashrama and similar words, redolent with the flavour of Bharatavarsha’s air and earth and water, abound. It is a transcreation that is, above all, meant to be heard, for that is what the hermits in the Naimisha forest were doing. Prof. Lal himself has been giving public readings of the transcreation every Sunday from October 1999, bringing home the oral and aural quality of the epic.

How true are Vyasa’s prophetic words in the Adivamsavatarana (“Down-comings”) chapter:

“What is in this epic
on Dharma, Artha, Kama, Moksha,
may be elsewhere.
What is not in this epic,
is nowhere else…
It is recited in the present,
it will be recited in the future.”

The opening verses describing Creation are some of the most majestic compositions of all time, transcreated with biblical and Rigvedic reverberations:

“At first, there was no light,
no radiance, only darkness;
then was born the egg of Brahma,
exhaustless and mighty seed of life…

Prof. Lal’s verse rendering is far better than any of the translations; terse yet poetically evocative and mellifluous:

“She stood, a black-
eyed beauty on the hill-top,
statuesque,
like a golden girl.
The hill, its creepers,
its bushes, all flamed
With the golden beauty
of the golden girl.”

Tapati is another Cleopatra indeed in Chitraratha-Enobarbus’ glowing description, which is immeasurably superior to the Ganguli and van Buitenen prosaic translations. Or take the unconventional rakshas rhythm he adopts for Hidimb’s slavering monologue where one feels as if Vyasa were writing in English itself; so natural, unforced and appropriate is the transcreation:

“My favourite
Food!
My mouth
Waters…
My sharp
Eight teeth
Will bite
Delicious
Meat.
I’ll crunch
The throat
And veins,
And drink
Hot
Fresh
Bubbly
Blood.”

– Continued

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