Anandavardhana’s Dhavani Theory
#Anandavardhana (आनन्दवर्धन) was a brilliant 9th-century #KashmiriScholar who wrote #Dhvanyāloka (ध्वन्यालोक), the main book on #dhvanitheory. Living around 820-890 CE, he belonged to the great tradition of Kashmir Shaivism and was deeply influenced by earlier aesthetic thinkers like Bharata Muni. What makes him special is his bold claim that suggestion (dhvani – ध्वनि) is not just another poetic device, but the highest soul of poetry itself.
Unlike earlier writers who focused mainly on figures of speech, Anandavardhana carefully studied the best Sanskrit poems and saw that their real power came from hidden meanings that touch the heart. His work revolutionized #IndianPoetics by giving a clear method to distinguish ordinary beautiful poetry from truly great poetry (mahākāvya), and later scholars like Abhinavagupta built upon his ideas. Through Dhvanyāloka, he showed that a poet's true skill lies in saying less but suggesting more
Anandavardhana’s Dhvani (ध्वनि) theory is important because it completely changes how poetry is understood: it says that the real greatness of poetry lies in what it suggests, not just in what it says directly. Earlier thinkers gave main importance to Alankāra (अलंकार, figures of speech) and good diction, but Anandavardhana argues that even a simple-looking verse becomes truly powerful when it hints at a deeper emotion, idea, or truth beyond the surface meaning. In his view, this suggested meaning (Vyañjya – व्यञ्ज्य) is the very soul of poetry, and all other elements like alankāras, guṇas and vṛttis are only its limbs.
This theory is also important because it explains why some poems touch the heart and stay in the mind even when their literal meaning is ordinary: they are working through dhvani, a subtle resonance that only a Sahṛdaya (सहृदय, sensitive reader) can fully appreciate. By clearly distinguishing dhvani from ordinary figures of speech and from simple secondary meanings (Lakṣaṇā – लक्षणा), Anandavardhana gives a deep and refined criterion for judging the highest kind of poetry, and his ideas continue to influence Indian literary criticism even today.
Anandavardhana’s (आनन्दवर्धन) theory of Dhvani (ध्वनि) explains that the highest kind of poetry is based on suggestion – that is, on a hidden meaning which is more important than the direct meaning of the words. According to him, every poem has at least two levels of meaning. The first is Vācya (वाच्य), the direct, expressed meaning that appears on the surface. The second is Vyañjya (व्यञ्ज्य), the suggested or implied meaning that a sensitive reader, a Sahṛdaya (सहृदय), can feel behind the words. Anandavardhana calls a poem Dhvani-kāvya (ध्वनि-काव्य) when this suggested meaning becomes primary, and the expressed meaning is made secondary (उपसर्जनीकृत स्वार्थ) and serves only as a vehicle for the deeper sense. In such poetry, the poet seems to say one thing, but actually makes us understand and experience something more subtle and profound.
For Anandavardhana, poetry is not truly great just because it uses beautiful language or clever Alankāra (अलंकार, figures of speech). Earlier writers on poetics had given a lot of importance to alankāras and thought that the excellence of a poem lies mainly in its ornaments. Anandavardhana carefully examines several well-known figures of speech, such as Samāsokti (समासोक्ति, condensed metaphor), Ākṣepa (आक्षेप, hinting or denial), Anukta-nimitta-viśेषोक्तি (अनुक्तनिमित्त-विशेषोक्ति, special expression with an unspoken cause), Paryāyokti (पर्यायोक्ति, indirect saying), Apahnuti (अपह्नुति), Dīpaka (दीपक) and Saṅkara (सङ्कर). In each case he asks where the real charm lies: in what is directly stated, or in what is suggested. He shows that in these figures, the main beauty remains in the expressed meaning and the figure itself, while any implied sense is only secondary or faint. Therefore, such poems, though ornamented, are not dhvani-kāvya in the strict sense, because their suggested meaning is not dominant.
From this analysis Anandavardhana derives three important principles for recognizing real Dhvani (ध्वनि). First, if the suggested meaning (व्यञ्ज्य अर्थ) is weak and only follows the direct meaning, then the poem should be classed as alankāra-kāvya (अलंकार-काव्य), not dhvani-kāvya. Second, if there is some hint of an inner meaning but we cannot clearly say that it is intended as the main point, then again it is not proper to call it dhvani. Third, genuine dhvani exists only where both the words and the expressed sense are deliberately arranged to serve the implied sense, and that implied sense is clearly felt by the reader as primary and central. In other words, it is not enough that a poem has some hidden meaning; in dhvani-kāvya the hidden meaning must be the real heart of the poem.
Anandavardhana further explains that Dhvani (ध्वनि) is actually a separate species of poetry (kāvya-viśeṣ – काव्यविशेष). He states that Alankāras (अलंकार – ornaments), Guṇas (गुण – qualities) and Vṛttis (वृत्ति – styles) are only the Aṅga (अङ्ग, limbs) of poetry, while Dhvani is the Aṅgī (अंगी, the main body or whole). Just as no single limb can be identified with the whole person, no single figure of speech or quality can be identified with dhvani itself. Dhvani-kāvya is that complete form of poetry whose overall effect depends on suggestion, and in which alankāras and other elements play only a supporting role. In this way, Anandavardhana gives suggestion the highest rank and makes it the soul of poetry, while all other devices become secondary
He also divides dhvani broadly into two main types. The first is Avivakṣita-vācya dhvani (अविवक्षित-वाच्य ध्वनि), where the poet does not really intend the direct meaning as important. It is almost like a surface cover for the deeper sense. An example given by Anandavardhana is the verse which says that three kinds of persons gather golden flowers from the earth: the brave, the learned, and the one who knows how to serve. On the surface, it talks about picking golden flowers, but the suggested meaning is that only such people can achieve rare, precious success in life. Here, the literal picture is simple and secondary; the philosophical idea behind it is primary, so the verse is dhvani-kāvya.
The second kind is Vivakṣitānyapara-vācya dhvani (विवक्षितान्यपर-वाच्य ध्वनि), where the direct meaning is intended, yet it is carefully used to lead the reader to a further, richer sense. Anandavardhana’s example is a verse which asks: “On which mountain, and for how long did this one perform penance, and what is its name, that a young parrot pecks the fruit so red as your lips?” Literally, these questions about penance and the mountain seem odd, but they are not meaningless. They are used to suggest a feeling of wonder at the girl’s beauty, as if such extraordinary red lips must be the result of some powerful tapas (तपस्, penance). Thus the real point is not the outer questions but the admiring emotion they imply. That emotion is the vyañjya (व्यञ्ज्य), and it becomes the true centre of meaning in the poem.
Another major issue Anandavardhana addresses is the confusion between Dhvani (ध्वनि) and Lakṣaṇā (लक्षणा), also called Bhakti (भक्ति). Some critics had argued that dhvani is nothing but lakṣaṇā, that is, the secondary use of a word when its primary meaning does not fit. Anandavardhana rejects this by showing that lakṣaṇā works at the level of individual words, and mainly for practical adjustment of meaning, while dhvani works at the level of the whole poetic expression and aims at aesthetic suggestion. He explains that if we define dhvani as lakṣaṇā, the definition becomes too wide, because secondary meanings occur even where there is no special beauty or deep suggestion; at the same time, it becomes too narrow, because there are many examples of dhvani where the words retain their primary sense and yet a further meaning is suggested by the total context. This shows that lakṣaṇā may sometimes help suggestion, but it cannot be the real definition of dhvani.
Finally, Anandavardhana also explains why this kind of poetry is rightly called “Dhvani” (ध्वनि). Grammarians use the term dhvani for sound, the audible element in speech. In poetry, according to him, there is also a kind of inner sound or resonance beyond the literal meanings—the silent message that continues to vibrate in the mind of the Sahṛdaya (सहृदय) after reading or hearing the poem. Because of this shared idea of “resonance”, learned scholars extended the word dhvani to this special kind of suggestive poetry. Through his theory, Anandavardhana shows that the highest form of poetry does not merely state or decorate; it suggests. By suggestion, it reaches places in the reader’s heart and understanding which direct statement cannot reach, and this is why Dhvani (ध्वनि) becomes, in his view, the true soul of poetic art.
Reference - Indian Aesthetics: An Introduction by V.S. Sethuraman
