North Indian Inscriptions

LITERARY HISTORY

a form as spṛiśan is to murder Grammar completely. Similarly, Bühler quotes the second half of verse 30, namely, yad=bhāti paśchima-purasya nivishṭa-kānta-chūḍāmaṇi-pratisamaṁ nayan- ābhirāmam, and observes that here “we come across something worse, a fault in construction.” “The genitive paśchima-purasya,” he further proceeds, “goes with chūḍāmaṇi, and there is no substantive which is connected with nivishṭa. The grammatically correct form should have been paśchima-purē, but that would not have suited the metre.” It is very difficult, however, to follow this line of reasoning and perceive wherein exactly lies the fault of construction adverted to by Bühler. The construction requires a genitive, and not a locative, so that the line may be translated: “which shines like the tucked-in lively crest-jewel of the western ward (of the town).” Further, If paśchima-purē had really been the grammatically correct form, Vatsabhaṭṭi who is so fond of expletives could have easily composed the line thus: Yad=bhāti paśchima-purē hi nivishṭa-kānta, etc. There are, again, a few inconsistencies of composition which have crept into the panegyric and which have been thus exposed by Bühler. “To the category of poetical absurdities not specially alleged,” says he, “belong verses 7-8, where, at first sarāṁsi, ‘the lakes’ in general is used, then again kvachit sarāṁsi ‘the lakes in some places’ is used. Further, in verses 10-12, the poet first speaks of gṛihāṇi ‘the houses’, then again anyāni ‘other houses,’ and, lastly again of gṛihāṇi ‘the houses’ in general.”

        But even a third-rate composition is not without its excellences. Vatsabhaṭṭi’s production is no exception to this rule. The inscription opens with three stanzas which form the maṅgala and which, on the whole, are excellent poetry. It is true that it contains ideas which are met with in the writings of the Sauras, the Purāṇas and the still older works, as Bühler remarks. It may also be true that there are some similar ideas common to it and the Sūryaśataka of Mayūra. But this similarity of thought is not tantamount to plagiarism or even imitation of any poet, so far as we can impartially judge. In the third stanza of the maṅgala, the reddish morning sun is compared to the cheeks of a woman flushed with drink. Bühler quotes a passage from Bāṇa’s Harshacharita where the poet compares the sun-set to the cheek of a Mālava woman. “Bāṇa’s comparison,” says he, “is somewhat more nicely brought out than that of Vatsabhaṭṭi, owing to the use of the term ‘Mālava woman’ in place of the general expression aṅganā-jana” of stanza 3 of the Mandasōr praśasti. Bühler, however, does not enter into further details and tell us how exactly the mention of ‘Mālava woman’ enhances the excellence of the comparison. What seems probable is that Mālava women were of fair complexion even in the time of Bāṇa and were also in the habit of drinking which suffused their cheeks with a red tint as soft as the rising or the setting sun. But Bühler forgets that Vatsabhaṭṭi was a resident of Daśapura which was then the centre of the Mālava people. The generality of men and women there pertained to the Mālava tribe. It was, therefore, natural for him to use the general term aṅganā-jana. Anyway, the first three stanzas of the praśasti read quite nicely and also charmingly. We may now turn to verse 12 which is to be rendered as follows: “Where the buildings, decorated with rows of terraces, resembling lines of gods’ palaces . . . (appear) to have risen up surely by tearing open the earth.” Bühler admits that the statement here that the building have risen by tearing open the earth is ‘quite striking,’ but thinks that Vatsabhaṭṭi has confounded between two comparisons current in the literature of his time. “If this expression means anything,” thus argues Bühler, “it suggests a comparison of the houses with something to be found in the deep or the nether world, with something like the thousand, white-shining heads of Śēsha. Such an image is, however, defective, when there is already a comparison of the houses with the vimānas, the moving gods’ palaces, soaring up high in the sky . . . . The comparison of houses with the vimānas of gods is not rarely found in epic works, but is still more frequently met with in the Kāvyas. On the other hand, that of buildings with things in the nether world comes only