Tuesday, 6 January 2026

Dhvani theory by Anandavardhana ( #IndianPoetics)

              #Dhvani theory by #Anandavardhana (#IndianPoetics)

                   Life of Ānandavardhana: Kashmir's Literary Genius

A Scholar in a Golden Age

Ānandavardhana lived in Kashmir during the ninth century (c. 820–890 CE), a time when the region was one of the world's greatest centers of learning. He was a Brahmin scholar who earned the prestigious title Rajanak—the royal poet—because of his exceptional contributions to literature. He lived during the reign of King Avantivarman, when Kashmir experienced its golden age, with flourishing art, music, architecture, and poetry.

His Education and Training

Ānandavardhana received an excellent education in Sanskrit grammar, philosophy, poetics, and aesthetics. He was skilled in both Sanskrit (the language of scholars) and Prakrit (everyday languages). What made him special was that he didn't just follow the ideas of earlier scholars. Instead, he studied thinkers like Bhamaha and Udbhata to develop his own revolutionary ideas about poetry.

His Works

Ānandavardhana wrote many books. Some that survived include the Mahakavya-Arjuncarita (an epic poem), the Tattvaloka (a philosophical work), and the Devisataka (poems about the goddess). Unfortunately, many of his writings have been lost over time.

His Greatest Achievement: The Dhvanyāloka

Ānandavardhana's most famous work is the Dhvanyāloka, which means A Light on Suggestion. Before him, literary critics focused on the external features of poetry—the figures of speech, the meter, and word choices. But Ānandavardhana asked a different question: What makes poetry truly moving and beautiful?

His answer was dhvani, or "suggestion." He believed that great poetry works on two levels. First, there is what the words literally say. Second, there is what they suggest or imply beneath the surface. For example, a poem about a sunset might literally describe the sun disappearing, but it could suggest deeper ideas like the passage of time or the sadness of endings.

Why Ānandavardhana Felt Dhvani Is Important

The Problem with Earlier Critics

Before Ānandavardhana, Sanskrit critics only looked at surface features of poetry: figures of speech, words, meter, and decorations. They were like people examining a beautiful building by only looking at columns and arches—missing what's inside.

The real problem: they couldn't explain why some poems moved readers deeply while others with perfect grammar and beautiful language didn't. Something important was missing.

His Revolutionary Idea

Ānandavardhana realized that poetry's real power is in what it suggests, not what it says directly. Great poets don't give you meanings plainly. They create hidden layers of meaning that touch emotions and imagination.

The greatest Sanskrit poems weren't great because of decorations. They were great because they suggested deep truths and emotions beyond their literal words.

First Key Insight: Hidden Meanings

Old theories couldn't explain meanings that aren't directly stated. If a poet wants to show sadness, she doesn't say "I am sad." She describes rain on an empty house or a separated bird.

Poetry has a third way of creating meaning that doesn't exist in ordinary language. This is dhvani—suggested meaning that isn't directly or indirectly stated. Poetry has its own unique rules, different from regular language.

Second Key Insight: The Sensitive Reader

Understanding poetry needs more than grammar knowledge. It needs a sensitive reader—someone with a good heart whom Ānandavardhana called a sahridaya (one with a heart).

When such a reader reads a great poem, their heart responds instantly to suggested emotions. They feel everything all at once. Old grammar-based theories couldn't explain this immediate, emotional understanding.

Third Key Insight: Real Poetry Works This Way

The Ramayana wasn't famous for its figures of speech. It was famous because Valmiki's sorrow at witnessing a separated bird turned into poetry that made readers feel that same sorrow. The poem suggested grief so powerfully that readers experienced it themselves.

Old theories couldn't explain how this worked. Dhvani theory finally did.

Everything Changed

Before: Critics asked mechanical questions—"What figures of speech? What meter? What words?"

After: The real questions became—"What does the poem suggest? What emotions does it evoke? What truth does it hint at?"

When suggestion becomes the main element, a poem reaches the highest level—Dhvani Kavya, supreme poetry.

Why It Matters

Ānandavardhana felt dhvani was important because he discovered how poetry really works. His theory explained why great poems are timeless (they suggest eternal truths), why readers feel emotion without direct statements, and why poetry is different from ordinary language.

For almost a thousand years, all Sanskrit scholars built on his ideas. Even today, his insight is true: the soul of poetry is in what it suggests, not what it says. He transformed poetry from a technical skill into a profound art that touches the deepest human emotions.

Ānandavardhana identified three ways suggestion works in poetry. First, substantive suggestion comes from the story or plot itself. Second, ornamental suggestion comes from figures of speech and poetic devices. Third, sentimental suggestion creates emotional moods that move the reader.

He also ranked poetry into three levels: the highest is Dhvani Kavya (poetry where suggestion is supreme), the middle is Gunibhuta Vyangakavya (where suggestion plays a smaller role), and the lowest is Chitra Kavya (ornamental poetry without deep suggestion).


                      Three Types of Dhvani (Suggestion) in Poetry

Ānandavardhana identified that suggestion works in poetry through three distinct pathways, each operating differently to create poetic beauty and emotional impact. Understanding these three types helps readers and students see how great poets layer meaning into their work.

1. Vastu Dhvani (Substantive Suggestion)

What it is: In Vastu Dhvani, the suggested meaning comes directly from the plot, story, or subject matter itself—without using any figures of speech like metaphor or simile. The story and its situation suggest something deeper than what the words literally say.

How it works: The reader picks up the suggested meaning from the context and the unfolding events of the narrative. No literary devices are needed—the situation itself carries the hidden meaning.

Example from Ānandavardhana: A woman wants her lover's privacy and doesn't want a wandering holy man (sadhu) to disturb them by coming to bathe in the river where they meet secretly. One day, she tells the sadhu: "O pious man, come freely! The dog that used to bark at you has been killed by the fierce lion that lives in this forest."

Literal meaning (Vachya): It's safe now—you can come to the river without fear of the dog.

Suggested meaning (Vyangya): Don't come! It's now even more dangerous because there's an angry lion here.

The beauty of this example is that no figurative language is used, yet the suggestion is crystal clear to a sensitive listener. The woman cleverly uses the dangerous situation itself to convey what she really means.

Literary Example: In epic poetry like the Ramayana, when Valmiki describes the sorrow of the separated birds (Krauncha birds), he is not just telling a story. Through the narrative of their separation, he suggests the deeper, universal pain of separation that moves the reader's heart. The story itself becomes a mirror for human suffering.

2. Alankara Dhvani (Ornamental Suggestion)

What it is: In Alankara Dhvani, the suggested meaning arises through figures of speech and literary devices—metaphors, similes, allusions, puns, and other poetic ornaments. The way the poet decorates and shapes the language creates the suggestion.

How it works: Here, the poet uses poetic devices intentionally to suggest a meaning that goes beyond what the words literally mean. The figure of speech becomes the vehicle for suggestion.

Example from Ānandavardhana: From his own work, the Vishamabanalila:

"The eyes of the heroes will not be so delighted in their beloved's red-anointed breasts as in the temples of enemies' elephants painted in deep red colour."

The literal comparison is between women's bodies and elephants' foreheads—both red. But what is being suggested through this unusual comparison? The warrior's mind is so focused on the heat of battle and victory that even the beauty of his beloved seems secondary. His heroic spirit and martial courage overshadow romantic feelings. This comparison subtly suggests the psychology of a warrior's mind.

Another Example: Shakespeare's pun in Romeo and Juliet—When Mercutio is dying, he says: "Ask for me tomorrow and you shall find me a grave man."

The phrase "grave man" works through wordplay:

      • Literal meaning: A serious, earnest man
      • Suggested meaning: A dead man in the grave

Both meanings are present simultaneously because of the cleverness of the pun, creating a darkly ironic suggestion about his death.

Why it's different from simple ornamentation: Importantly, Ānandavardhana distinguishes Alankara Dhvani from mere decoration. In Alankara Dhvani, the figure of speech is not just making the poem pretty—it's actually suggesting a deeper meaning. In ordinary ornamental poetry without suggestion, the figure of speech is just beautiful but doesn't carry profound implied meaning.

3. Rasa Dhvani (Sentimental Suggestion)

What it is: Rasa Dhvani is the most powerful and deepest form of suggestion. Here, emotion and sentiment (Rasa) are conveyed not by directly stating them, but by suggesting them through the entire poem. The reader experiences the feeling immediately and directly, without any break or gap in understanding.

How it works: Unlike Vastu and Alankara Dhvani, which can be expressed through the direct or literal meaning, Rasa Dhvani never appears in the literal or explicit meaning. It cannot be stated directly—it can only be felt and experienced through suggestion. The emotion blooms in the sensitive reader's mind almost simultaneously with reading the words.

Key characteristic: There is no apparent sequence or reasoning—the suggested emotion appears "all at once" in the reader's awareness. You don't think about it step-by-step; you feel it immediately.

Example: At the moment when Valmiki witnessed the death of the male Krauncha bird (separated from his mate), profound sorrow seized him. This sorrow couldn't be described by saying "I feel sad." Instead, Valmiki's sorrow transformed into the first verse of the Ramayana—poetry that evokes the same sorrow in readers. The reader experiences the pain directly, without needing to translate it from literal meaning into emotion.

Another example: When Rama speaks to the wandering sadhu in the forest, he doesn't say "I am separated from my beloved Sita and my heart is broken." Instead, through his words about the sorrows of exile, through his descriptions of nature, through his tone and imagery, the deep anguish of separation (Vipralambha Sringara Rasa) flows directly into the listener's heart.

Western parallel: When Shakespeare writes in Sonnet 29:

"When, in disgrace with fortune and men's eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state..."

He doesn't say "I am depressed." The reader immediately feels the speaker's loneliness and rejection. The emotion is suggested through imagery, tone, and the architecture of the poem, creating an instant emotional resonance.

The Hierarchy and Relationship Between the Three

Ānandavardhana arranged these three types in an important order: Vastu Dhvani (plot-based)  Alankara Dhvani (figure-based)  Rasa Dhvani (emotion-based).

The highest poetry (called Dhvani Kavya) is dominated by Rasa Dhvani, where emotion becomes the soul of the work. In such poetry:

      • The plot and figures of speech are merely servants of the emotion
      • Everything—the story, the language, the images—exists only to convey the sentiment
      • Vastu and Alankara become secondary, supporting the primary emotional suggestion

In contrast, lower forms of poetry might have only Vastu and Alankara but lack true Rasa Dhvani. These are called Gunibhuta Vyangakavya (poetry with subordinate suggestion).

Why This Matters

Understanding these three types helps us recognize how great poets work:

      1. They don't simply tell you what to feel—instead, they construct situations, use careful language choices, and arrange images to suggest feelings to you.
      2. Multiple meanings operate simultaneously—a good poem functions on all three levels at once, with different readers picking up different suggested meanings based on their own sensitivity and experience.
      3. The reader's role is active—you're not passively receiving meaning; you're actively sensing, interpreting, and experiencing the suggested meanings the poet has woven into the work.

This is why Ānandavardhana called suggestion (dhvani) the "soul" of poetry. It's the invisible essence that transforms mere words into art that moves the human heart.

Thus, Ānandavardhana's ideas changed how people understood poetry. Instead of just analyzing techniques, scholars now asked: How does language create meaning? How do readers feel beauty through art? For nearly a thousand years, all serious studies of Sanskrit poetry built on his foundation.

About sixty years after his death, the great philosopher Abhinavagupta (c. 950–1016 CE) wrote a detailed commentary called the Locana (The Eye) to explain and expand Ānandavardhana's ideas. This commentary became famous and helped make the dhvani theory central to Indian philosophy about art.

His Legacy

Although we know few personal details about Ānandavardhana's life, we know he was a man of extraordinary intelligence who lived at the perfect time. The royal court that honored him gave him support to develop his revolutionary ideas. Through his genius, he showed future generations a new way to think about poetry—not just as a collection of techniques, but as an art that suggests profound truths beyond the literal meanings of words. His influence on how people understand and appreciate literature continues even today.

                           Reference : Indian Aesthetics: An Introduction by V.S. Sethuraman

Monday, 5 January 2026

#Indiana Poetics - Alamkāra Theory (From Bhamaha’s Kāvyalankāra)

 

               

         #IndianAesthetics
Alamkāra Theory (From #Bhamaha’s #Kāvyalankāra) 



#Bhāmaha is remembered as one of the early great thinkers of Sanskrit poetry. He is best known for a book called Kāvyālakāra, where he explains what makes poetry beautiful and what makes it weak.

Strangely, we do not know many clear facts about his personal life. There is no detailed, fully reliable biography of him, so his life story is mostly understood through the ideas he left behind. Many modern writers place him around the 7th century, so he belongs to an early period when Sanskrit literary theory was still taking shape.

To imagine Bhāmaha’s world, think of a time when learning happened through discussion and debate. Teachers and students would sit together, recite verses, argue about meanings, correct grammar, and judge which lines sounded powerful and which sounded wrong. His work belongs to the Alakāra tradition—scholars who studied “ornaments” of poetry: special ways of using words and meanings to create beauty.

 Sources connect Bhāmaha with Kashmir, a region that later became famous for deep scholarship in poetry and aesthetics. Whether we know every detail or not, Bhāmaha clearly comes from a learned society where people cared intensely about language, style, and the craft of writing.

What makes Bhāmaha exciting is his message: poetry is not only a gift—it is also hard work. A poet must learn grammar, understand how words carry meaning, choose expressions carefully, and avoid mistakes that confuse the reader or spoil the beauty. He treats it as a skill that demands training, awareness, and responsibility: a poet must know language, must choose words carefully, must understand how meaning is carried, and must avoid faults that make expression unclear, forced, or tasteless

In short, Bhāmaha teaches that good poetry is like fine jewellery: it shines because it is shaped with skill, not because it happened by accident.

Bhāmahas  in Kāvyālakāra explains what poetry (kāvya) is, why it is valuable, what a poet must learn, how poetry is classified, and what kinds of language faults (doas) should be avoided in good writing.

Why good poetry matters

Good poetry is presented as useful not only for enjoyment but also for life-goals: it supports Dharma (right conduct), Artha (wealth), Kāma (desires), and Moka (liberation), and it also helps develop competence in the arts.

It brings pleasure and fame, and the text strongly suggests that a poet’s fame can outlast the body—poetry becomes a lasting “form” through which the poet continues to be remembered and respected.

The unit also contrasts good authorship with bad authorship: not writing is not a problem, but writing badly brings disgrace, so a poet should be careful with every word.

Who can become a poet

Learning technical subjects (śāstras) is possible with teaching, but poetry requires natural talent, and even talent does not always guarantee success.

He also mocks the idea of having knowledge without poetic ability by giving comparisons (for example, knowledge without poetry is compared to abilities that cannot truly function in their context).

What a poet must study (essentials of poetry)

A serious poet should prepare by learning:

      • Grammar (correct language).
      • Prosody/metre (how verses are structured).
      • How words convey meaning directly and indirectly (primary and secondary meanings).
      • Vocabulary/word meanings (lexicon).
      • Stories and tradition (Itihāsas, cultural narratives).
      • Knowledge of the world and human behavior (loka-vyavahāra).
      • Logic and the arts.

Only after study, serving teachers, and reading earlier good poems should one begin composing.

Debate: ornament of words vs ornament of meaning

He discusses -the key debate in Sanskrit poetics:

      • One view: the main beauty of poetry comes from meaning-based figures (like rūpaka/metaphor), just as ornaments make a beautiful face shine more.
      • Opposite view: figures like rūpaka are external; the real beauty is skillful word-choice and arrangement (good wording and style), because words reach the listener first and meaning follows.
      • Bhāmahas accepted position here: both are validsound/word-based ornaments (śabda-alakāra) and meaning-based ornaments (artha-alakāra) are both part of poetic excellence.

What “kāvya is

Kāvya is defined as a unity of word and meaning together.

It has two broad forms—prose and verse—and can be composed in Sanskrit, Prakrit, and other languages/dialects.

Classifications of kāvya (how poetry is grouped)

The unit gives multiple ways to classify kāvya:

      • By subject/content: it may include narratives (including divine or heroic accounts), constructed stories/fiction, and writings connected to arts and sciences (some traditions even include drama/grammar in extended senses).
      • By form/structure (a five-fold division is described): works in cantos (sarga-based), drama (meant for stage), ākhyāyikā, kathā, and unconnected/miscellaneous compositions (independent verses/sections not tied into one plot).

Mahākāvya (epic poem): key features

mahākāvya is described as a large poem built from cantos (sargas) with grand theme, depth, avoidance of vulgarity, use of figures of speech, and an orientation toward noble subject matter.

It typically includes set descriptions (like councils/assemblies, messengers, journeys, battles, and the hero’s prosperity) and follows major plot-structure stages (“five sandhis”), ending auspiciously.

Doas (faults/defects) poets must avoid

A major part introduces “defects of expression” that weaken poetry.

From the legible portion, the unit discusses faults such as:

      • Neyārtha: meaning is not naturally clear; it has to be forcibly “pulled out,” as if language rules are being stretched.
      • Kliṣṭa: meaning becomes obstructed/difficult (hard to understand).
      • Anyārtha: the expected/appropriate meaning is absent; the statement becomes senseless.
      • Avācaka: wording fails to directly express the intended meaning in an accepted way (so it is “inexpressive” for the intended sense).
      • Ayuktimat: irrational/improper descriptions (example-type: using things that cannot truly communicate as “messengers,” unless explained as poetic exaggeration due to intense emotion).
      • Gūha-śabda-abhidhāna (hidden/obscure wording): using words whose meaning is technically derivable but hidden and not readily understood, so the reader struggles.

It also mentions other categories of defects like those offensive to the ear (harsh/awkward sound), improper/objectionable meaning, and objectionable construction/juxtaposition where word-combination creates an indecent or unwanted meaning.

he says that some words may be avoided for unpleasant/indecent associations, and emphasizes that poets should choose and place words carefully, the way a person strings flowers into a garland with discrimination


     Reference -Indian Aesthetics: An Introduction by V.S. Sethuraman (Macmillan)