A Courtesan's Awakening and Vyasa's Subtle Genius

Last Thursday was Guru Purnima. It has become a beautiful occasion to honor personal gurus. But its core reason remains paying tribute to Veda Vyasa, the vyasa (sorter) and compiler of the Vedas.

- RENUKA NARAYANAN

Last Thursday was Guru Purnima. It has become a beautiful occasion to honor personal gurus. But its core reason remains paying tribute to Veda Vyasa, the vyasa (sorter) and compiler of the Vedas. He was also the author of the Mahabharata, the Srimad Bhagavatam and several Puranas. Guru Purnima thus honors the most prolific Indian author of all time, whose work continues to influence millions even after millennia. This master storyteller delights in suspenseful chiaroscuro, in 'light-and-dark' shades. Characters that he casually describes as 'among the most learned' experience catastrophic falls soon after. Utanga's story from last Monday is but one example.

Vyasa's mastery of irony is evident in other ways, too. Perhaps you would remember the story of Pingala that I retold in 2022? Let us briefly revisit it to savor Vyasa's subtle sarcasms. The case of Pingala, the public woman, is mentioned in Vyasa's Srimad Bhagavatam, Canto 11, Chapter 8. King Yadu, who is Sri Krishna's ancestor, happens to meet a young ascetic whose face and manners shine with lustrous composure.

Yadu is so impressed that he wants to know how the ascetic achieved it. The ascetic humbly replies that he had many teachers, including a serpent, and the five elements, and explains what he learned from them. He then shocks King Yadu by saying, "In the city of Mithila, there used to be a public woman called Pingala. Now hear, O king, what I learnt from her."