Lapas attēli
PDF
ePub

ARTICLE V.-POPULAR SONGS AMONG THE DRAVIDIAN NATIONS.

The Folk-Songs of Southern India. By CHARLES E. GOVER. pp. xxviii, 296. London: Trübner & Co. Madras: Higginbotham & Co. 1872.

MR. GOVER has given to the public one of the most interesting and instructive books relating to a little worked field of Indian literature, which we have lately read. In this book we gain almost for the first time an insight into the every-day life and thoughts of that portion of the people of India, which has been least studied and most imperfectly understood. Since the British occupation of the country opened an unexpected chapter in the antiquities of the race, the efforts of scholars have naturally been expended chiefly upon the Vedas and the classical Sanskrit literature, which, however, represents but a single caste, the Brahmans. In this way the great majority of the people, the common people, are liable to be misunderstood. The philosophical speculations of the learned class are almost unknown to the masses; the monstrous tales respecting the gods, inventions of a crafty priesthood, may serve to amuse them at their public festivals, but probably have little influence upon their daily lives. Especially is this remark true of the hill tribes of Southern India, who have not so completely succumbed to the Brahmanic caste as the people of the plains. There is certainly no better way to discover the character of these people than to collect the songs, which pass from mouth to mouth in their every-day life.

There is ample evidence that when the dominant Hindu race entered India, they found the country already possessed by a darker-skinned people, whom they gradually subdued or drove into the inaccessible mountain fastnesses of Central and Southern India.

What the family connections of these early settlers were we are perhaps not in a condition to say with certainty. Dr. Caldwell, who some years since published a "Comparative Gram

mar of the Dravidian Languages," connects them with the Turanian or Scythic family. Others, as Mr. Baldwin-PreHistoric Nations-seek to show an ante-Sanskrit civilization of Cushites from Arabia, whose language, amalgamated with still earlier aboriginees, was the basis of Dravidian speech. Our author, however, argues most strenuously that this less fortunate race represents an earlier immigration of Aryans. We hardly think that the evidence adduced justifies so confident a conclusion. Among other things he states that the list of words cited by Dr. Caldwell as of Turanian origin are known to be Aryan. But limited lists of words are not sufficiently trustworthy evidence of the family connections of a language. It is in grammatical structure that we find the surest proof. In this respect the Dravidian tongues most closely resemble languages of the Turanian type. It is no more strange that the vocabulary of these languages should be largely Aryan, than there should be many Arabic and Persian words in Hindustani, for Aryan rule was the dominant one from the earliest times to the Mohamedan invasion, and Aryan writings have been the literary standard at all times. The best that we can say is that the languages of Central and Southern India will require much more profound study, before we can discover the exact niche in the classification of languages, which they will fit. The branches of the Dravidian family represented in Mr. Gover's book are the Canarese, Badaga, Coorg, Tamil, Malayalam, and Telugu, covering a territory nearly coincident with the Presidency of Madras and the native State of Hyderabad. The population speaking the Dravidian tongues is estimated at thirty-two millions, which must be regarded as only an approx imation, very likely falling short of the true number, since the natives look with suspicion on the census officers, and often misstate the true size of their families.

Singing in Southern India is a distinct profession, and is generally performed by the sons of the dancing girls, who live in the temples, and lead a life of legalized prostitution. Their male offspring, knowing nothing of caste-connections, are regarded as consecrated to some god, and wander about from village to village, entertaining the people with their songs, and receiving a scanty living in return. There is also another class,

leading the same sort of life, composed of those who, being in some deep trouble, vowed to consecrate themselves to the service of a deity. Such a mendicant is called dasa, a servant." "At weddings he must sing of Krishna; at burnings of Yama; before maidens of Kama; before men of Rama. As he begs he sings of right and duty; when he hears the clink of copper in his shell, of benevolence and charity."

The author's description of the visit of the dasa to some country village to earn his night's lodging, is so picturesque that we quote it entire. "Marching straight to the mantapam or many-pillared porch of the pagoda, he squats on the elevated basement, tunes his vina, places before him his huge begging shell. The villagers are just returning from the fields, weary with their labors, anxious for some sober excitement. The word is quickly passed round that the singer has come, and men, women and children turn their steps toward the mantapam. There they sit on the ground before the bard, and wait his pleasure. He begins by trolling out some praise to Krishna, Vishnu or Pillaiyarswami. Then he starts with a pada or short song, such as those with which this book commences. There is chorus to every verse. If the song be well known, before the bard has finished the long-drawn-out note with which he ends his verse, the villagers have taken up their part, and the loud chorus swells on the evening breeze. If the song be new, they soon learn the chorus, and every fresh verse bears a louder and louder refrain. Then the shell is carried round, and pice are showered into it. When darkness closes in, the headman of the village invites the singer to his house, gives him a full meal, and then leaves him with mat, vina and shell, to sleep on the pyall."

It is always surprising to one who is not familiar with the Hindu mind, that so large a proportion of the popular songs— even the most popular ones-are of a didactic and religious character. There seems to be a strong undercurrent of sadness, which continually finds expression in the literature. This may be due partly to original mental constitution, but largely, doubtless, to the caste system, which renders the lot of the masses so hopeless, and to the spiritual philosophy invented by the Brahmans as a defence of their religious monopoly.

[blocks in formation]

Mr. Gover divides the songs into eight classes, each of which he illustrates by examples.

1st. Moral songs. 2d. Proverbial philosophy. 3d. Songs representing the Adwaita or pantheistic system. 4th. Ancient Tamil songs, "of the period when Brahmanism and Dravidi anism were struggling for the mastery, when the best men poured out what are distinctly called 'songs of sorrow,' and were very Jeremiahs in weeping over the corruptions which surged upon the land." 5th. Theological chants. 6th. Ceremonial songs. 7th. Labor songs. 8th. Mothers' cradle songs, which are seldom heard by Europeans. Other songs, which are episodes from the Puranic literature, are omitted, since they are not pure Dravidian productions.

The first specimens are from the Canarese. The people speaking this language occupy the rugged plateau of Mysore and Canara, and are bounded on the west by the range of the Ghauts, on the northwest by the Presidency of Bombay, on the east by the Telugu country, and on the south by the hill tribes of the Neilgherries. They are estimated at about five millions.

The first song represents a man soliloquizing about the nearness of death, but unwilling to give up the world.

"Oh! what is food to me! Death stands so near!
Morn, noon and night his angels close appear.
In one short day they snatched, as past they ran,
My friend, my foe, the young, the gray-haired man.
Their wealth doth stay behind, although so dear.
There is no joy for me, my life is drear."

Chorus.-How near is death!

Mercy he cannot bring.

Then, oh my heart, cease from the world, and cling

With all thy power to tender Lakshmi's king.

"Two days ago the marriage feast was mine,
And only yesterday I bought milch kine
Wherewith to start my modest home. My field
Is bright with corn, with gold my coffers yield,
I cannot die." While yet thou speakest, fool,
Dread Yama's step comes near. Farewell, vile soul.

Chorus.-How near is death! &c.

[blocks in formation]

May bring no helping friends.

Accounts must stay

Unpaid. In short, my friend, you must obey

When death doth call. Oh, heart, my trembling heart,

Think well on Vishnu's god-like feet. From him ne'er part.

Chorus.-How near is death! &c.

Lakshmi is the wife of Vishnu. Yama is the god who carries the bodies of the dead to the shades.

Another song describes the perishable nature of all earthly possessions. Wealth, honors, friends must be forsaken when death comes. Character alone follows us into the next life.

[blocks in formation]

We quote a couple of stanzas from a song in praise of inward purity, contrasted with ceremonial cleanness. In the original the metre is peculiar. A certain consonant begins the first syllable of the first line, the second syllable of the second line, and so on, retreating from the beginning one syllable with Mr. Gover has attempted to imitate this by substi

each line.

« iepriekšējāTurpināt »