THE Bhakti movement has been known to move across geographical and social domains covering a period of almost ten centuries. This movement, interweaving the different structures, is believed to have ‘[begun] in the Tamil-speaking region in South India in the 6th to the 9th centuries of the Common Era sweep through the Kannada-speaking region in the 10th to 12th centuries and up into Marathi-speaking region in the 13th and 14th centuries and then across the North of India by the 15th and the 16th centuries to generate a vast body of literatures of both story and song’.¹ It has been indicated that there was a propagation of this movement from South to North through the Varkaris of Maharashtra.² The word ‘Varkari’ is derived from two words vari (repeated journeys) and kari (the performer), which means ‘the regular pilgrim’.³ One of the significant figures among the Varkaris is Namdev who is also said to be the first travelogue writer⁴ and pioneer of Marathi literature.⁵ It has been mentioned that Namdev has a pan-Indian existence,⁶ which has made him into a figure who integrated the Indian subcontinent at multiple levels of caste, class, and gender. Despite that, he mostly appears as a secondary figure in several traditions – along with Jnaneshwar (1275-1296 CE) among the Varkaris in Maharashtra, in the Guru Granth Sahib, with Kabir (1440-1518 CE) in Panchavani, and Dadupanthi⁷ Samuday (community).

 

There are several debates about the biographic details of Namdev. However, it is popularly accepted by most scholars that he lived in the 13th and 14th centuries, more precisely during 1270-1350 CE. His caste in Maharashtra is known as chhimpi (tailor) and in North India as chhippi (calico printer).⁸ There are also claims to his kshtriya lineage.⁹ Namdev’s father was a cloth businessman, and a devotee of Vitthal, the God at Pandharpur temple. Thus, Namdev was initiated into the worship of Vitthal from early childhood. Later, his devotion was deepened through influences from Jnaneshwar and the Varkari Sampraday (community). During this part of his life, he sang poems, particularly in Marathi, which were fixated around Pandharpur and on Vitthal; these are sagun poems, for a God with form.

After a few years of silence, Namdev appears in North Indian traditions, singing in a combination of Marathi, Gujarati, Brij Bhasha, Awadhi, and Bihari.¹⁰ These poems or songs are nirgun in nature, that is, they are dedicated to a formless God, the Absolute, the One. This shift from sagun to nirgun has been observed by Prabhakar Machwe. He argues that this shift is due to the influence of various other philosophical currents (Sufi and the Tamil bhakti poets) in India.¹¹ Extending his argument further, this paper speculates on this transition through his mobility. It asks how the effects of constantly being on the move, or being mobile, allows one to develop an openness to different ideologies and cultures. Moreover, how can the idea of the mobility of Namdev help us understand him as a translator?; thereby asking a larger question: can a translator translate without being on the move?

 

The Marathi corpus of Namdev’s poetry has around 2500 abhangas. These abhangas, mostly circulated orally and later documented in different manuscripts, are divided in three sections: Adi, Tirthavali, and Samadhi. The Marathi abhangas are considered the oldest work attributed to Namdev. Tirthavali is said to have two versions: biographical and autobiographical. The biographical one is more popular and the autobiographical version is found only in the handwritten scribes of the singers from the Marathi region.¹² The biographical version, which is one of the sites of my study, is written in a dialogic manner where Namdev appears just like any other character. Tirthavali which is considered a travelogue of Namdev’s journeys, covers only the story of Namdev and Jnaneshwar going to Dwarka (present Gujrat), performing a few miracles on the way, coming back to Pandharpur, and holding a celebration on successfully finishing the pilgrimage.

 

In these abhangas, Dwarka is considered to be a ‘sacred bathing place’, in other words, tirth – a sacred destination for a pilgrim. Diana Eck has discussed the significance of the concept of tirth in Hinduism.¹³ She shows how the tirth become increasingly significant due to several Indian traditions being woven in one thread: tirth as a convergence point of heaven and earth, tirth as a continuation of folk locative tradition, and tirth as a medium for crossing the river of samsar (world). In this framework, Namdev and Jnaneshwar are two pilgrims with the purpose of going to Dwarka.

Tirthavali starts with Jnaneshwar coming to meet Namdev in Pandharpur and requesting him to come along with him on his tirth yatra (pilgrimage), but Namdev is reluctant to leave the lord in Pandharpur to go to a foreign¹⁴ place. After taking permission from Vitthal, Namdev agrees. On the journey to Dwarka, the two have a conversation about the duality of bhakti and spiritual knowledge (enlightenment), where Namdev takes the position of a faithful devotee and Jnaneshwar, as his name suggests (jnana means knowledge), positions himself on the side of knowledge. When they reach Dwarka, Namdev performs a miracle showing the power of bhakti.

 

The story proceeds with Jnaneshwar feeling grateful for being able to meet a bhakta like Namdev in his life and both of them come back to Pandharpur. After the journey, Namdev’s belief of Vitthal and his temple of Pandharpur strengthens, as can be seen in the following abhanga:

Completing the pilgrimage Nama returned to Pandharpur

and met Vithoba¹⁵ wholeheartedly

The throat was filled and tears poured out through the eyes

And he fell down at Vitthal’s feet

I am tired, Lord Pandhari,¹⁶ now favour me and keep me close to you

Without you, even the greatest become lowly

My heart was filled with the illusions of ignorance

So you made me go on from one place to other

The priceless pleasure I feel seeing you now, O Pandhari,

I could not have dreamt even in my dreams.

I went to all the impertinent holy places

But my heart was with the river Chandrabhaga.

So, I have come to your doorsteps

Now you take care of me like mother and father.

My eyes don’t wait for that God [other than Pandhari]

Nor my hands worship him

My feet don’t walk on his path

And my ears don’t listen to the songs of his praise.

The lord who has not kept his hands at his waist

Or is not standing on the brick

My heart feels shame to think of him as lord,

Whom do I express this pain to?

The lord who does not have Garuda¹⁷ and flag on his temple,

I doubt if he can be called lord,

Whose places I can’t have meetings with Vaishnava¹⁸ saints

And I am unable to take pleasure in the harikatha.¹⁹

Where I don’t see this, my heart feels empty

Then I remember your vision.

You are my best friend, you are my kuldevta.²⁰

Nama says, you are dear to me more than life.²¹

 

Having completed the pilgrimage, Namdev returns to Pandharpur. He is overwhelmed on seeing Vitthal, and his experience is embodied as he cries and falls at Vitthal’s feet. He expects Vitthal to keep him close. There are two important points to emphasize here. First, Namdev makes multiple references to Pandharpur and Vitthal, when he names Vitthal as Pandhari – the Lord/God of Pandharpur. This reference to a specific location and name of God, hints towards this poetry being sagun. This is further highlighted by a reference to the Chandrabhaga river where Namdev mentions that no matter where he went, his heart always stayed with the river, which is his lord’s home.

Namdev believes that Vitthal is the only deity who deserves to be the God, for he repeatedly mentions Vitthal’s characteristics like hands on his waist, standing on a brick, and with Garuda, as essential to being God. One notes Namdev’s fixation on Pandharpur and his lord Vitthal. Lines 15-18 make it even more evident where Namdev explicitly says that he is unable to accept anyone as God except ‘Pandhari’.

Second, the emphasis on pilgrimage. In lines 7-8, Namdev says that it was Vitthal who made him go on the pilgrimage. There appears to be a purpose for this journey which is that Namdev must gain jnana by seeing the world and meeting people. If this is read alongside a story around Namdev where Gora (1267-1317 CE) the potter once tested Namdev and told Jnaneshwar that Namdev’s head was empty, that is, Namdev lacked worldly knowledge and experience. Thereafter, Jnaneshwar appears in front of Namdev with the idea of going on a pilgrimage. There are conversations in Tirthavali between Vitthal and Namdev, when Vitthal tries to convince Namdev to go on pilgrimage to experience the world. Namdev’s Marathi poetry being sagun, plays an important role in his realizing that the pilgrimage was enlightening because there was no other deity as lovable as lord Vitthal in the world, making his pilgrimage a success. Given this purpose to Namdev’s physical mobility, it seems right to understand Namdev as a pilgrim and his travel as a pilgrimage.

 

Namdev’s North Indian poetry mostly situates him along with other North Indian bhakti saint poets like Kabir, Dadu Dayal (1544-1603 CE), and Nanak (1469-1539 CE). This section looks at 258 poems in the Rajasthani manuscripts collected in The Hindi Padavali of Namdev.²² Unlike his Marathi corpus, Namdev’s North Indian poetry does not have a cohesive narrative and is fairly fragmented, for he sings in many languages and is part of multiple traditions, as has been mentioned earlier.

 

While more importance is given to pilgrimage in the Marathi corpus, the Hindi poems show a shift in this idea where the inward journey takes precedence over a physical one, as is seen in the following lines: ‘ukenso dgS dgwa vkbZ;s u tkbZ;s A viu©a jke Äfj cSBsa gha xkb;s A’.²³ In these lines, Namdev says that you don’t have to come or go anywhere, just sing of your Ram²⁴ sitting at home. Here the emphasis is on immersing oneself into the thought of Ram, and the use of word viu©a, which means your own. This to identify with Ram and that this idea of Ram does not have one form, that people can find their own Ram within them.

This nirgun, formless, Ram can be found through an inward journey, which does not require one to have a purposeful physical journey. Immersing oneself into this idea of Ram, by singing and remembering it, also demonstrates a detachment from the outer world and an immersion into the inner world where Ram resides, as stressed in the following lines:

cSjkxh jkefga xkÅaxkA

lcn vrhr vukgn jkrkA vdqyk dS Äfj tkÅaxkAA

rhjFk tkÅa u ty eSa iSlwaA tho tar u lrkÅaxkAA

vBlfB rhjfFk xq: y’kk;sA ÄV gh Òhrfj UgkÅaxkAA²⁵

In these lines, Namdev calls himself an ascetic who only sings of Ram – the Absolute without any form. He says that words can’t describe this union of love where there are no limits; a union where he will meet the one who does not have a particular home because he is beyond the earthly ideas of home and kul.²⁶ He says he will not go on any pilgrimage, will not drink the sacred water, and will not hurt anyone. His guru²⁷ has shown that all the 68 tirth exist within him, and he says that he will take a bath on that ghaat²⁸ inside him.

 

Unlike his Marathi poetry, the focus here is on an inward journey, the purpose of which is of eventually assimilating into Ram. The physical journey appears to have no specific purpose. Being physically mobile, in this case, provides a detachment from the chains and bonds of the world. The nirgunness of the poetry emphasizes the detachment even more since there is no fixation to a particular God or place, and hence no purpose for physical mobility. Namdev’s Hindi poetry, thus, seems to be nirgun, which implies that God is inside the bhakta, and it does not matter where the bhakta is; God is everywhere and in everything. Thus, in this phase of Namdev’s life, the poetry is nirgun and his mobility has no purpose, because the purpose lies in remembering the formless God. Namdev, at this instance, can be understood as a wanderer.

Discussing the role of travel in the propagation of religious ideas in the context of Buddhism in the Indian subcontinent, Daniel Veidlinger quotes Stephen Kern and mentions that ‘travel engenders an exchange of ideas, stimulates the intellect, breaks up prejudices, and diminishes provincialism’.²⁹ Namdev can be studied in the framework of Veidlinger’s claim that being constantly on the move makes one question previously existing notions, and opens the mind to new ideas. Namdev’s corpus of bhakti poetry – Marathi and Hindi – showcases a shift in his philosophy, ideology and language. From being a sagun poet to a nirgunia, and from being a pilgrim to a wanderer, he seems to have under-gone a change. Namdev with all his legends and the divine-mystic persona around him, gives the impression of being a human, who has scope for a transformation. In this process, Namdev translates himself – his love for God remains, but his approach to it changes.

 

At this moment the concept of a mobile-temple becomes important. This idea of George Michelle is later invoked by Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty while discussing the distinction between sagun and nirgun form of bhakti. She mentions: ‘The "minimal" (Garbha-Graha) temple is the nirgun; the orthodox temple is sagun; and the "mobile" temple mediates between them, giving qualities to the formless central image’.³⁰ The bhakti saint-poets provide a form to the nirgun God through them when they perform.

One of the significant aspects of the Bhakti tradition is the oral circulation of the literature through the performance of the bhaktas. Linda Hess summarizes this relationship between mobility, performance, and circulation as: ‘Religious "literature" in medieval India was sung. It spreads across the country like wildfire on the lips of devotees and wandering ascetics who walked from region to region or met in conversations of "holy men" on the banks of some sacred river, where a chief activity was bhajan, or devotional singing.’31

 

The bhaktas mediate between the world and the God through their performance; they become mobile-temples. In this way, they appear as translators of God. The notion of the mobile-temple, therefore, works as a metaphor for the bhakti saint-poets. The combination of performance and a mobile-temple is especially significant for Namdev, who bridges the gap between nirgun and sagun, metaphorically and literally. By appearing as a mediator, Namdev translates the God for the world, but is that all there is?

Loredana Polezzi discusses the trinity of translation, travel, and mobility to argue that ‘[t]he connection between translation, travel and migration raises fundamental questions about the way in which we perceive the link between language, national or ethnic identity, and individual voice’.³² She complicates the binary of translation – the idea that there is a ‘translator’ who translates for others. Discussing translation and travel through mobility she claims that travellers can be seen as translators, who translate cultures, ‘for themselves and for others’.³³ In this framework, Namdev, not only translates the God for the others, but also for himself, which becomes evident in his transformation from a sagun poet to a nirgun one, and from being a pilgrim to becoming a wanderer. Thus, the idea of physical mobility not only complicates our understanding of Namdev’s poetry but also helps us see him as a translator who allows communication and transformation among cultures through his performance and mobility.

 

Both movement and performance remain integral to the Bhakti tradition, particularly in Namdev’s corpus. His physical mobility allows him a philosophical or ideological mobility. In that sense, he translates himself. The performative aspect of these songs makes him translate God for others and also for himself. This connection between Namdev’s different mobilities – physical and spiritual – and the act of translation, which happens here at several levels – ideological translation of God, cultural translation of Namdev, and linguistic translation in Namdev’s poems – allows us to ask whether translation is at all possible without thinking about mobility.

Can one think of translation as transformation through movement? Doesn’t the act of translation work as an act of movement, which carries not only the reader, but also the translator, to another zone? Namdev loses his earlier identity and the sagun approach to God to assimilate into the nirgun God, which is everywhere and in everything, and Namdev must renounce every attachment or bond by being continuously on the move. In a similar manner, a translator also loses herself to the text to provide meaning to her own identity as a translator. Namdev sums this up beautifully when he says: ‘I am a river/That has flowed/Through land/To be lost/In the sea.’³⁴

 

Footnotes:

1. Nancy M. Martin, ‘North Indian Hindi Devotional Literature’, in Gavin Flood, The Blackwell Companion to Hinduism. John Wiley & Sons, 2008, pp. 182-198.

2. John Stratton Hawley, A Storm of Songs: India and the Idea of the Bhakti Movement. Harvard University Press, Cambridge, Mass., 2015.

3. Sisir Kumar Das, A History of Indian Literature: 500-1399. Sahitya Akademi, Delhi, 2005.

4. Ibid.

5. Prabhakar Machwe, Namdev: Life and Philosophy. HPB/FC, 2010.

6. Eleanor Zelliot, ‘Eknath’s Bharuds: The Sant as a Link Between Cultures’, in Karine Schomer and W. H. McLeod, The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Noida, 1987, pp. 91-110.

7. Dadupanthi Samuday is a community of followers of Dadu Dayal, a bhakti saint-poet from Gujarat, who lived in the 16th century.

8. Christian Lee Novetzke, Religion and Public Memory: A Cultural History of Saint Namdev in India. Columbia University Press, New York, 2008.

9. Karansingh Gohil, Gohil Kshtriya Vansh Pradeep (Sant Shiromani Shree Namdev Anuyayi). Krishna Paper Industry, Vidisha, 2015.

10. Prabhakar Machwe, op. cit.

11. Ibid.

12. Christian Lee Novetzke, op. cit.

13. Diana L. Eck, ‘India’s “Tīrthas”: “Crossings” in Sacred Geography’, History of Religions 20(4), May 1981, pp. 323-344.

14. In this context, foreign implies anything other than Pandharpur.

15. A name for Vitthal

16. Another name for Vitthal

17. Garuda is a bird-like creature in Hindu, Buddhist and Jain mythology. It is known as the vehicle of Lord Vishnu. Since Vitthal is considered an avatar of Vishnu, the symbol of Garuda on the temple is again used as a marker to identify Vitthal.

18. Devotees of Vishnu.

19. Literally, it means tales of the Lord, but it could also be a reference to the tradition of Harikatha, which is a performative art form of storytelling, mostly in South India.

20. Literally, it means the deity worshipped by a particular clan, but here, it could also mean home.

21. Shree Namdev Gatha 161. This abhanga was translated by the author with the help of Manoj Pemgirikar. Shree Namdev Gatha, Varda Books, Pune, 2002.

22. Winand M. Callewaert and Mukund Lath, The Hindi Padavali of Namdev. Motilal Banarasidass Publishers, Noida, 1989.

23. Ibid.

24. Ram here does not mean the Lord Ram from the Ramayan. Ram is just a word used to signify the formless, the Absolute.

25. Winand M. Callewaert and Mukund Lath, op. cit.

26. Kul means clan.

27. In the stories, Visoba Khechar is considered as Namdev’s Guru, but here it could also mean God himself.

28. A series of steps leading down to a river or pond, which is used for bathing, washing clothes and religious rites.

29. Daniel Veidlinger, ‘On the Road: The Appeal of Buddhism to Travellers’, Contemporary Buddhism: An Interdisciplinary Journal, 2016, pp. 439-452.

30. Wendy Doniger O’Flaherty, ‘The Interaction of Saguna and Nirguna Images of Deity’, in Karine Schomer and W. H. McLeod, The Sants: Studies in a Devotional Tradition of India. Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Delhi, 1987, pp. 47-52.

31. Linda Hess and Sukhdev Singh, The Bijak of Kabir. Motilal Banarsidass Publishers, Delhi, 2015.

32. Loredana Polezzi, ‘Translation, Travel, Migration’, The Translator, 2014, pp. 169-188.

33. Ibid.

34. Winand M. Callewaert and Mukund Lath, op. cit.