Two streams of the Hindu civilisation—that of the senses and that of the mind, that of form and that of thought. They are like the Ganga and Yamuna. Both water our lands. Both enrich our civilisation.
The one of form reached its ultimate perfection in the figure of the Nataraja and the other, of thought, in Advaita, the “last generalisation” on God.
One created music and dance, painting and sculpture, tastes and feelings; the other created the world of the intellect—our religions and philosophies. In short, our world of thoughts. Thus, India went about the development of the senses and intellect in complete abandon. We had 64 kalas. Hence the richness and diversity of our civilisation.
“The metaphor of the cosmic dancer has found its profound and beautiful expression in Hinduism in the image of the dancing Shiva,” says Fitsjoff Capra, the famous scientist. The dancing Shiva is the only sublime artistic creation to capture the mystery of the dynamic universe. It is the only symbol of its kind in the world.
And who else but Shankara could have followed the logic of Monism to its inevitable conclusion—to a God without form or attribute—Nirakara and Nirguna. The rishis meditate on the formless God and the people revelled on the worship of gods with forms. That is how it has always been in Hinduism and that is how it will always be.
The Vedic Aryan had no temples or idols. Each patriarch lighted the sacrificial fire and invoked the Bright Ones for their blessing. They saw their gods as invisible spirits.
Be that what it may, the masses wanted a God who could see, hear, speak and feel. In other words, a God like man. The common man wanted a God who cared for him.
Having made a deity with eyes, nose, ears and feelings, it became necessary to please the senses of the deity. And this they did by creating the most pleasing music for the deity, the most beautiful things for his eyes, the most enjoyable fragrances (flowers, incenses) and finest savouries (payas) for the palate and dance and drama for his feelings. And how else can you express your awe for your deity’s majesty except by housing him in the most magnificent temples. It was the intense desire of the people to please their deity which produced the great marvels of India, whether it be music, painting, sculpting or architecture. They cannot be created today in our age of faithlessness. Our ancients sought perfection in everything they did. Work was truly worship. Thus the entire civilisation of the Hindus is a feast of sounds, colours and sights, of tastes and smells of beautiful temples and sensuous pleasures. In short a paradise.
Dear Reader, it is because our gods had ears that we developed music, it is because our gods had nose we developed fragrances, it is because our gods had eyes that we made paintings. An abstract God will not have called forth these skills.
There can be no art without idolatry, says Ananda Coomaraswami, the great authority on Indian civilisation. To please the gods was the principal purpose of the Vedic chants. And what did they not do to achieve their objective: They created a whole Veda—Sama—for it!
Drama was considered as a great spectacle of music and dance and acting for gods and men. Bharata of Natyashastra fame says that the first drama was presented to the gods.
“It is by its art and literature that a country is judged”, says Dr Radhakrishnana. In his Lectures on the Philosophy of History, Hegel says: “India is a land of dreams.” True, India had always dreamed—more of the Bliss that is man’s final goal. And this had made Indians more creative in history than any other people. Hence the efflorescence of myths and legends, religions and philosophies, music and dances and the profusion of architectural styles.
But the Hindu was not satisfied with what the senses had created. He wanted to go beyond the senses. He must progress in thought. This cannot be done, says Aurobindo, “If we chain our spirit to some fixed metal ideas or systems of religious cults…”
Dear Reader, we are like pilgrims on a long journey. Some are in the lead. They are enlightened men. True, they are so few. And most are in the rear. They are in the dark. But they will be brought into light—that is the promise of Krishna in the Gita.
