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Sarpa Satra
Poems from Mahabharata tales though according to the author "It's not about Mahabharata times,it's all about the present times".
- GenresPoetryIndian Literature
84 pages
First published January 1, 2004
2 people are currently reading
102 people want to read
About the author
Arun Kolatkar
11 books46 followersArun Balkrishna Kolatkar (1932–2004) is one of the most important and influential poets in the post Independence Indian poetry. He was born on 1 November 1932 at Kolhapur, Maharastra. He had his education as a fine artist from JJ School of Arts and he worked as an art director and graphic designer in many reputed advertising agencies like Lintas. He wrote in Marathi and English.
His Marathi poetry collections include:
* Arun Kolatkarcha Kavita (1977)
* Chirimiri (2004)
* Bhijki Vahi (2004)
* Droan (2004)
* Char Kavita
His first collection of English poems was Jejuri named after the religious site in Maharashtra (1976) and winner of the prestigious Commonwealth Poetry Prize in 1977. His other collections of English poetry are Kala Ghoda Poems and Sarpasatra (2004). He won the Kusumagraj Puraskar given by the Marathwada Sahitya Parishad in 1991 and Bahinabai Puraskar given by Bahinabai Prathistan in 1995. He has also won the prestigious CAG award given in the field of advertising for six times and consequently was admitted to the CAG Hall of Fame.
His poetry is something of a trendsetter in both the languages. In Marathi, his poetry is the quintessence of the modernist as manifested in the 'little magazine movement' in the 1950s and 60s. His early Marathi poetry was radically experimental and it displayed the influences of the European avant-garde poetry like surrealism, expressionism and the Beat generation poetry. These poems are oblique, whimsical and at the same time dark, sinister, and exceedingly funny. Some of these characteristics can be seen in Jejuri and Kala Ghoda Poems in English, but his early Marathi poems are far more radical, dark and humorous then his English poems. His early Marathi poetry is far more audacious and takes great amounts of liberties with the language of poetry. However, in his later Marathi poetry, the poetic language is more accessible and less radical compared to earlier works. His later works Chirimiri, Bhijki Vahi and Droan are less introverted and less nightmarish. They show a greater social awareness and his satire become more direct.
Sarpa Satra is an 'English version' of a poem by similar name in Bhijki Vahi. It is a typical Kolatkar narrative poem like Droan, mixing myth, allegory, and contemporary history. Although Kolatkar was never famous as a social commentator, his narrative poems tend to just that. Many poems in Bhijki Vahi contain plenty of comments on the contemporary history. However, these are not politicians' comments but a poet's, and hence he avoids the typical Dalit-Leftist-Feminist rhetoric. What is significant here is the shift in the poet’s attitude and technique.
While Jejuri was about the agonized relationship of a modern sensitive individual with the indigenous culture, the Kala Ghoda poems are about the dark underside of Mumbai’s underbelly. The bewilderingly heterogeneous megapolis is envisioned in various oblique and whimsical perspectives of an underdog. Like Jejuri, Kala Ghoda is also 'a place poem' exploring the myth, history, geography, and ethos of the place in a typical Kolatkaresqe style. While Jejuri, a very popular place for pilgrimage to a pastoral god, could never become Kolatkar’s home, Kala Ghoda is about exploring the baffling complexities of the great metropolis. While Jejuri can be considered as an example of searching for a belonging, which happens to be the major fixation of the previous generation of Indian poets in English, Kala Ghoda poems do not betray any anxieties and agonies of 'belonging'. With Kala Ghoda Poems, Indian poetry in English seems to have grown up, shedding adolescent `identity crises’ and goose pimples. The remarkable maturity of poetic vision embodied in the Kala Ghoda Poems makes it something of a milestone in Indian poetry in English.
His Marathi poetry collections include:
* Arun Kolatkarcha Kavita (1977)
* Chirimiri (2004)
* Bhijki Vahi (2004)
* Droan (2004)
* Char Kavita
His first collection of English poems was Jejuri named after the religious site in Maharashtra (1976) and winner of the prestigious Commonwealth Poetry Prize in 1977. His other collections of English poetry are Kala Ghoda Poems and Sarpasatra (2004). He won the Kusumagraj Puraskar given by the Marathwada Sahitya Parishad in 1991 and Bahinabai Puraskar given by Bahinabai Prathistan in 1995. He has also won the prestigious CAG award given in the field of advertising for six times and consequently was admitted to the CAG Hall of Fame.
His poetry is something of a trendsetter in both the languages. In Marathi, his poetry is the quintessence of the modernist as manifested in the 'little magazine movement' in the 1950s and 60s. His early Marathi poetry was radically experimental and it displayed the influences of the European avant-garde poetry like surrealism, expressionism and the Beat generation poetry. These poems are oblique, whimsical and at the same time dark, sinister, and exceedingly funny. Some of these characteristics can be seen in Jejuri and Kala Ghoda Poems in English, but his early Marathi poems are far more radical, dark and humorous then his English poems. His early Marathi poetry is far more audacious and takes great amounts of liberties with the language of poetry. However, in his later Marathi poetry, the poetic language is more accessible and less radical compared to earlier works. His later works Chirimiri, Bhijki Vahi and Droan are less introverted and less nightmarish. They show a greater social awareness and his satire become more direct.
Sarpa Satra is an 'English version' of a poem by similar name in Bhijki Vahi. It is a typical Kolatkar narrative poem like Droan, mixing myth, allegory, and contemporary history. Although Kolatkar was never famous as a social commentator, his narrative poems tend to just that. Many poems in Bhijki Vahi contain plenty of comments on the contemporary history. However, these are not politicians' comments but a poet's, and hence he avoids the typical Dalit-Leftist-Feminist rhetoric. What is significant here is the shift in the poet’s attitude and technique.
While Jejuri was about the agonized relationship of a modern sensitive individual with the indigenous culture, the Kala Ghoda poems are about the dark underside of Mumbai’s underbelly. The bewilderingly heterogeneous megapolis is envisioned in various oblique and whimsical perspectives of an underdog. Like Jejuri, Kala Ghoda is also 'a place poem' exploring the myth, history, geography, and ethos of the place in a typical Kolatkaresqe style. While Jejuri, a very popular place for pilgrimage to a pastoral god, could never become Kolatkar’s home, Kala Ghoda is about exploring the baffling complexities of the great metropolis. While Jejuri can be considered as an example of searching for a belonging, which happens to be the major fixation of the previous generation of Indian poets in English, Kala Ghoda poems do not betray any anxieties and agonies of 'belonging'. With Kala Ghoda Poems, Indian poetry in English seems to have grown up, shedding adolescent `identity crises’ and goose pimples. The remarkable maturity of poetic vision embodied in the Kala Ghoda Poems makes it something of a milestone in Indian poetry in English.
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Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews
October 9, 2013
History has a habit of repeating itself – especially violent history, which is a lot more prone to reasserting itself at reasonable intervals, in different places, amongst different peoples, for different reasons. If there is one common strand binding every history, it is that of revenge and bloodshed, at the drop of a hat, blinded by unreasonable hatred.
It has shown up consistently as one or the other form of genocide in every place imaginable – Europe, Asia, Africa, Middle East and all places humans have found themselves comfortable enough bodily to search for new avenues to fulfil their destructive whims.
One such tale of mass destruction, in fiction, is that of Mahabharat, one of India’s two biggest epics that form much of the basis of Hinduism. Essentially, it is an Odyssian tale in structure – a main thread branching off into disparate, loosely connected sub-plots, governed by an overarching theme, lending it the status of an epic.
Of the many sub-plots in Mahabharat, one is the tale called Sarpa Satra, literally translated as The Snake Episode - Arjun, one of the five Pandav brothers in the main thread/story of Mahabharat, was the grandfather of Parikshit, who was killed by a snake called Takshak, as a result of a curse by a sage. Janamejaya, Parikshit’s son is fed with the gradual, but ever-festering poison of hatred for the entire race of snakes. On growing up, he takes revenge by organizing a “yagna”, or a holy sacrificial fire (a Vedic rite in existence even today – a necessary ritual for many Hindus even today to mark an auspicious event) that, accompanied by the chanting of “mantras”, would pull all snakes into it, burn them, and consequently, finish off their entire species/race.
At that time, a learned sage named Astika, a boy in age, came and interfered. His mother Manasa/Jaratkaru was a Naga (Snake Woman) and father was a Brahmin. Janmejay had to listen to the words of the learned Astika and set Takshaka free. He stopped the massacre of the Nagas and ended all enmity with them. From then onwards the Nagas and Kurus lived in peace.
In the present unrhymed poem, Kolatkar reframes this mythological account within contemporary history, making it an allegory for the extremism of modern time. Narrated in a colloquial manner, the poetry is rife with irony, sarcasm, cynicism and satire.
The poem opens with Janamejaya (now onwards referred to as J) resolving to undertake the yagna to avenge the death of his father by eliminating all snakes. However, it is the subtle nuances of his words that allegorize it and align it to the prejudices of modern world. Consider the opening lines:
What this clearly alludes to, in terms of modern times, is how twisted accounts of history, masqueraded as official, true versions, exaggerated by those who buy it are passed on to young, impressionable minds, infecting them with hatred and a desire for revenge even before they can critically evaluate it. It hit me on the head as a reflection on how Louis Althusser, a Marxist, in his brilliant essay, Ideology and Ideological State Apparatus, calls this process “interpellation”, a subconscious process where one already begins to respond to a certain ideology before s/he can make sense of it. It is the beginning of life-long prejudice and subsequent paranoia, a too-common affliction with us.
The next section is narrated by Jaratkaru, an eminent snake-woman who married a human, speaking to her son Astika, persuading him to break this circle of violence. It is much more incisive in its criticism. Laying bare the stupidity of the cited reasons for annihilation of an entire race, she begins by telling her son,
She continues, making her son see the irrationality of the act, and how even people who are meant to be our mentors, people who are supposed to act as beacons of conscience and justice too, in the real world, often side with irrationality and prejudice. The narrative quickly moves to a criticism of Brahmins, that elite caste among the Hindus who performed religious rites, the repository of knowledge and wisdom, the social and moral equivalent of Christian priests, but with a different politics of subjugating the other castes, all of them beneath this priestly caste.
Kolatkar takes a jab at Brahmins, calling them “mantra mutterers” who eagerly took up the “jobs” of “officiating priests”, ”wangling a job” – even today, the Brahmins are highly conscious of their divine descent, looking down on other castes, acting as, as Kolatkar says,
Kolatkar, one of the most eminent Indian poets writing in English, has a wonderfully straight, clear way of writing politically charged poetry (though he seldom does that). I loved this poem awfully lot for its incisive take on powers that are difficult to target in India – the Brahmins, the popularly uncontested righteous – and turns it into an English poem with an Indian style – reciting aloud the poem, I realized I could mutter it exactly with the rhythm and cadence of Sanskrit shloks/mantras.
However, if you are looking for a poem that is more artistically conceived, with more ambiguous characters, and multiple layers of signification, this might not be the right choice, for several reasons apart from the apparently simple narrative. This poem does not focus on any particular event, but talks in a general way, with the mythological story being the topmost allegorical layer, and the tone becomes predictable after a point, though it does not lose its brilliant, sharp edge. I prefer poems like these to be dark - this one is comical, but then, it is just my preference. This is almost a parody, a light, witty reinterpretation with darker insinuations underneath. Kolatkar is foremost a sensuous poet, not a politically inclined one, and it reflects in this poem.
But a far more effective, incisive, stomach-churning poem would be The Ayodhya Cantos: Poems by Rukmini Bhaya Nair. It is easy to guess what it refers to (1992, Ayodhya), and it is nerve-wrecking in its brutality. It is much grimmer, explicitly violent and hair-raising. I felt terror seeping through my bones when I read it.
It has shown up consistently as one or the other form of genocide in every place imaginable – Europe, Asia, Africa, Middle East and all places humans have found themselves comfortable enough bodily to search for new avenues to fulfil their destructive whims.
One such tale of mass destruction, in fiction, is that of Mahabharat, one of India’s two biggest epics that form much of the basis of Hinduism. Essentially, it is an Odyssian tale in structure – a main thread branching off into disparate, loosely connected sub-plots, governed by an overarching theme, lending it the status of an epic.
Of the many sub-plots in Mahabharat, one is the tale called Sarpa Satra, literally translated as The Snake Episode - Arjun, one of the five Pandav brothers in the main thread/story of Mahabharat, was the grandfather of Parikshit, who was killed by a snake called Takshak, as a result of a curse by a sage. Janamejaya, Parikshit’s son is fed with the gradual, but ever-festering poison of hatred for the entire race of snakes. On growing up, he takes revenge by organizing a “yagna”, or a holy sacrificial fire (a Vedic rite in existence even today – a necessary ritual for many Hindus even today to mark an auspicious event) that, accompanied by the chanting of “mantras”, would pull all snakes into it, burn them, and consequently, finish off their entire species/race.
At that time, a learned sage named Astika, a boy in age, came and interfered. His mother Manasa/Jaratkaru was a Naga (Snake Woman) and father was a Brahmin. Janmejay had to listen to the words of the learned Astika and set Takshaka free. He stopped the massacre of the Nagas and ended all enmity with them. From then onwards the Nagas and Kurus lived in peace.
In the present unrhymed poem, Kolatkar reframes this mythological account within contemporary history, making it an allegory for the extremism of modern time. Narrated in a colloquial manner, the poetry is rife with irony, sarcasm, cynicism and satire.
The poem opens with Janamejaya (now onwards referred to as J) resolving to undertake the yagna to avenge the death of his father by eliminating all snakes. However, it is the subtle nuances of his words that allegorize it and align it to the prejudices of modern world. Consider the opening lines:
It was a scheming snake, I’m told,
With a grudge against my great-grandfather
That killed my father
…I knew nothing of all this
At the time
- I was only a child then –
And my guardians had to wait patiently
For me to come of age
To lay this terrible piece of knowledge on me.
What this clearly alludes to, in terms of modern times, is how twisted accounts of history, masqueraded as official, true versions, exaggerated by those who buy it are passed on to young, impressionable minds, infecting them with hatred and a desire for revenge even before they can critically evaluate it. It hit me on the head as a reflection on how Louis Althusser, a Marxist, in his brilliant essay, Ideology and Ideological State Apparatus, calls this process “interpellation”, a subconscious process where one already begins to respond to a certain ideology before s/he can make sense of it. It is the beginning of life-long prejudice and subsequent paranoia, a too-common affliction with us.
The next section is narrated by Jaratkaru, an eminent snake-woman who married a human, speaking to her son Astika, persuading him to break this circle of violence. It is much more incisive in its criticism. Laying bare the stupidity of the cited reasons for annihilation of an entire race, she begins by telling her son,
What would your reaction be
If someone were to come up to you
And say,
My father died of snakebite.
When? Oh, I was too young then.
I don’t even remember.
But I’m going to avenge his death
By killing
Every single snake that lives;
She continues, making her son see the irrationality of the act, and how even people who are meant to be our mentors, people who are supposed to act as beacons of conscience and justice too, in the real world, often side with irrationality and prejudice. The narrative quickly moves to a criticism of Brahmins, that elite caste among the Hindus who performed religious rites, the repository of knowledge and wisdom, the social and moral equivalent of Christian priests, but with a different politics of subjugating the other castes, all of them beneath this priestly caste.
Kolatkar takes a jab at Brahmins, calling them “mantra mutterers” who eagerly took up the “jobs” of “officiating priests”, ”wangling a job” – even today, the Brahmins are highly conscious of their divine descent, looking down on other castes, acting as, as Kolatkar says,
“the finest minds of our age,
… people we thought of
Until, oh, the day before yesterday
As living volcanoes of conscience
Ready to blow their tops
At the first sign
Of any wrongdoing in the land
… seem strangely silent
And worried about just one thing:
How to wangle a job for themselves
As officiating priests.”
Kolatkar, one of the most eminent Indian poets writing in English, has a wonderfully straight, clear way of writing politically charged poetry (though he seldom does that). I loved this poem awfully lot for its incisive take on powers that are difficult to target in India – the Brahmins, the popularly uncontested righteous – and turns it into an English poem with an Indian style – reciting aloud the poem, I realized I could mutter it exactly with the rhythm and cadence of Sanskrit shloks/mantras.
However, if you are looking for a poem that is more artistically conceived, with more ambiguous characters, and multiple layers of signification, this might not be the right choice, for several reasons apart from the apparently simple narrative. This poem does not focus on any particular event, but talks in a general way, with the mythological story being the topmost allegorical layer, and the tone becomes predictable after a point, though it does not lose its brilliant, sharp edge. I prefer poems like these to be dark - this one is comical, but then, it is just my preference. This is almost a parody, a light, witty reinterpretation with darker insinuations underneath. Kolatkar is foremost a sensuous poet, not a politically inclined one, and it reflects in this poem.
But a far more effective, incisive, stomach-churning poem would be The Ayodhya Cantos: Poems by Rukmini Bhaya Nair. It is easy to guess what it refers to (1992, Ayodhya), and it is nerve-wrecking in its brutality. It is much grimmer, explicitly violent and hair-raising. I felt terror seeping through my bones when I read it.
March 25, 2008
Sarpa Satra is a contemporary reenactment of the legend of Janmajeya and the Snake Sacrifice from the Mahabharata. It is a comment on the extremist mindset and cruelty in the heart of human beings.Very funny, smart and a great read!
June 2, 2024
"it has, by now, become so
pervasive,
so much a part of the air we breathe
that soon we'll start thinking of fresh air
as something unindian, alien
and antinational"
hate breeds more hate and revenge breeds more revenge.
highly relevant
pervasive,
so much a part of the air we breathe
that soon we'll start thinking of fresh air
as something unindian, alien
and antinational"
hate breeds more hate and revenge breeds more revenge.
highly relevant
November 15, 2018
Unfortunately there aren't too many stories from Mahabharata translated into my native language. Fortunately the Sarpa Satra story is one of them - and must I say it is one of the most beautiful reads I had in a while. The story is full of lessons about life, forgivness and the good in every creature. I was absolutely fascinated about how "The good" can become "The bad" and viceversa. When I finished the story I was sad because I know my research work into Mahabharata and Vedic lecture has just begun - it it will be a hard road without the use of my language ❤
July 7, 2021
Written in typical Kolatkar style that is highly enjoyable yet contemplative. Proves yet again why this man was a genius.
Displaying 1 - 5 of 5 reviews