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South Indian Inscriptions |
ARCHITECTURE SCULPTURE AND PAINTING
eagerly towards the Buddha. Her inward feeling is suggested by the gestures of her hands.1 ... The original painting above the third cell door was probably damaged in course of time and was replaced by another containing figures of the Mānushī Buddhas in two rows. The lower row has four Buddhas sitting on round seats with cushions behind their back and triple umbrellas over their heads. The upper row has seven or eight Buddhas of the same type. All of them are in the teaching attitude. The figures appear conventional and may have been drawn by the monks Bhadanta Dharmadatta and Bhadanta Bappuka whose names are mentioned in the painted records below.2 ... The frescoes over the first and second cell-doors of the left corridor as well as those on the left wall of the front corridor narrated the story of the conversion of Nanda, the half. brother of the Buddha. The paintings here are very much damaged, but some of the scenes can still be recognised. After his enlightenment the Buddha visited Kapilavastu. Nanda was then about to be consecrated as heir apparent. When the Buddha came to the royal places he was greeted by his wife Yaśōdharā and son Rāhula. The Buddha then met Nanda and handed him his begging bowl. Nanda followed him and consented to join the order. His head was therefore shaved and he was ordained. But he began to pine for his beautiful wife Sundarī. So the Buddha took him to heaven and showed him celestial nymphs. They were so superior to his wife that he consented to continue in the order for obtaining one of them. The story is narrated in the Buddhist canon as well as in the Saundarananda of Aśvaghōsha.
... Some of the incidents in this story such as the visit of the Buddha to Kapilavastu, the consecration of Nanda, his conversion and subsequent pining for his beautiful wife are illustrated in the extant frescoes. But the painting which has evoked unstinted praise from artcritics is that of the last incident in this story. When Nanda decided to continue in the monastic order, his crown was brought to his wife Sundarī. At its sight the latter sank with grief. This scene which has long been known as that of ‘the dying princess’ is painted in the fresco in the left corridor between the pilaster and the first cell-door.3 Sundarī is sitting on a low seat, her back resting on a round cushion. Her drooping head, half-closed eyes and languid limbs indicate the great shock she has received at the sight of the crown brought before her. A maid is supporting her from behind lest she might fall down, while the lady who is sitting beside her is looking into her face with a sorrowful gaze, and is holding her wrist as if to feel her pulse. Another maid with a pankhā who is standing nearby has shown her grief by the contortion of her body as she looks askance at her sinking mistress. Behind the pavilion, two other maids are anxiously discussing the condition of the lady, The peacock on the top of the pavilion appears also to feel the grief and to share in the anxiety of the maids. It has lengthened its neck as if to listen to what the maids outside the pavilion are saying about the condition of its mistress. Mr. Griffith has paid a well deserved tribute to this fresco. Says he, “For pathos and sentiment and the unmistakable way of telling its story this picture, I consider, cannot be surpassed in the history of art. The Florentines could have put better drawing, and the Venetians better colour, but neither could have thrown greater expression into it.â4 ...
A flight of steps leads down from the front of Cave XVI and turns to the left into a 1 Ajanta, Part III, pl. LV(c)
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