CWTVKS Volume 1

SPHOTA AND THE SPOKEN WORD

When we look closely into the original character of human speech and make an attempt to appreciate the potency of linguistic expression, Sanskrit language and standard authors on Sanskrit Grammar lend us a powerful helping hand leading us to deliberate upon the psychological and spiritual element in the very act of human speech. We find that some of the precepts of Sanskrit Grammar are capable of universal application and are based on principles that govern the laws of the origin and development of word-sound. In these ancient and original authorities we are confronted with profound ideas that are thought-stimulants and urge the mind to sound deeper and discover the bases on which they are justifiably conceived. The philosophical implications are often far-reaching when we consider their views on the question of word in relation to its meaning, or on the psychological process involved in the expression of significant sounds, or on the spiritual character at the source as distinguished from the external, the physical and effectual aspect of human speech.

Here in a brief compass we shall consider the question of Sphota, one of those concepts of Sanskrit Grammar which has a deep philosophic background and spiritual significance, and goes a long way to enable us to grasp the characteristic features of the language of a remote past, of an original epoch — the language which has come down to us in the form of mantras, the Riks of the Rig Veda. It would be helpful to start with some of the rudiments of Sanskrit Grammar and note the manner of investigation undertaken by these ancient thinkers. To being with:

In the nineteenth century European scholars made the startling discovery that many thousands of words can be resolved into a smaller number of roots. The guiding light in the endeavour was their knowledge of Sanskrit. But in the very dawn of Aryan history the same result, and much more in the line, was achieved by Sanskrit grammarians of whom Panini is the last notable name — notable for the complete system of Grammar that he has bequeathed to us. For all the originality and skill in devising the technique for building the system on scientific basis, Panini would have remained a sealed casket, had not Patanjali given us the Mahabhashya, the great Commentary on the aphorisms of Ashtadhyayi. With Patanjali Grammar is a regular Science. His work is a monument of critical acumen. It is here that we learn that the rules of Sanskrit Grammar unfold the laws that regulate the growth and formation of word-sounds, of linguistic forms. Here, in these rules as explained by Patanjali with illustrations taken from life, we have concise formulae of the science of human speech itself. In fact, it is the discovery of the Mahabhashya in the last century that gave birth to the Science of language.⁹⁸

Now let us take up the question of prakrti the uninflected state of a word, noun or verb. Though the prakyti is said to be two fold, that of the noun being termed prátipadika and that of the verb, dhātu, strictly speaking, it is reducible to only one, dhătu, since all nouns are generally derived from dhatus. What exactly is the significance of dhātu? In the Mahabhashya (Pan. I.3.1) Patanjali discusses this question and states that dhātu is expressive of krijā, action and that it expresses bhāva. But by bhāva we understand existence, satta, not action. How can we reconcile the two—kriya and bhava? We have to bear in mind that in Grammar when we speak of bhāva we use it to denote the state or condition of a thing; the abstract form of ghața, pot, is ghațatva, potness — the state of being a ghața, which is at the same time the intrinsic quality, the special property by which ghața is distinguished from all that is not ghața; therefore this ghațatva is the jäti, the class element common to all ghațas. But all objects which are signified by words are understood by us to exist; and existence or sattā is jāti or class. Thus bhäva or sattă is expressed by dhatu. But the root is said to be expressive of kriya, action. How can bhāva or sattă be taken for kriya? The grammarians say that there is action involved in all existences. Everything is in a state of flux, na hi kaşcit svasmin åtmani muhūrtam avatişthate (there is nothing that subsists in its form for a moment). Every bhäva undergoes a sixfold change, şadbhavavikärāh, according to the ancient grammarians. It is not the classification of vikära, change, into six divisions that is important. It is the constant change to which bhāva (every thing existent in the world) is subject that is what is to be recognised. In fact the word jagat (world) itself connotes that incessant change is what characterises the world, gacchati iti jagat.

It must be noted that when Patanjali says that dhatu is expressive of bhāva, bhāva-vacano dhātuh, he means “ becoming"; bhāva is bhāvanā, utpadanā kriyā. It is derived from bhū of the tenth conjugation meaning "to produce”.⁹⁹

Now the question arises as to words having definite meanings. Why should Go, cow, signify the particular quadruped known to the speaker and the hearer? Is it not due to an established convention by which meanings of word-sounds are conveyed and understood? The answer lies in understanding the character of the necessity that was the parent of human speech. If speech were primarily an intellectual necessity, men could agree upon a conventional equivalence between sound and sense, and any sound could mean any sense by common consent. But that does not seem to be the case. Sanskrit grammarians hold that śabda, the word, has sakti, an intrinsic power to convey the sense which is inseparably related to it. There are indeed certain words which are sañjñā sabda, technical or proper names that are conventional by consent. Again, there is another class of words, such as Kāka, Kokila, which are vocal reproductions of sounds heard in Nature, śabdanukytiḥ. The mimetic urge in the human creature is a living voice that motivates the kind of nervous response to the stimulus of the environment – a response that translates itself into vocal expression. Intellectual development in the human race may impose itself upon, subordinate or subdue the innate imitative tendency in human nature, but its natural disposition to reproduce is a primal factor which is as much nervous and vital as psychological. Human language itself in the beginning was a natural expression in terms of vocal sound, reacting to the sensations and feelings evoked by the forces of the environment or impelled by subjective phenomena. Apart from the element of mimesis in the primitive vocal expression, the word-sound has a natural power to convey the sense. In the words of Sri Aurobindo, “It started from an indefinable quality or property in the sound to raise certain vibrations in the life-soul of the human creature, in his sensational, emotional, his crude mental being. Words had not only a real and vivid life of their own, but the speaker was more conscious of it than we can possibly be with our mechanised and sophisticated intellects."

The question of word, meaning and their relation is subjected to subtle scrutiny and discussed in great detail by all schools of Indian thought.¹⁰⁰

Let us at the outset state in clear terms what is meant by śabda. In Sanskrit, any sound, the sound of a drum or the sound of a syllable in articulate speech is denoted by śabda, dhvanyātmaka and varnātmaka; it is the latter that is the subject of our enquiry. We use it in the sense of a word, vocal sound, väk. In all things that are expressed by vāk, speech, there are two factors we have to distinguish clearly in order to avoid confusion and arrive at the real character of sabda. There is, first, the external aspect, the audibility, the mere sound; the other factor is the subtler which is the essential sound element, vibrant with the meaning natural to it, not audible to the physical hearing, but clothed in the audible sound through which it expresses itself. The physical and the instrumental aspect is the normal sound dhvani which is a quality of the essential inner sound, śabda, which is itself sensible, carries sense with it, and is manifested every time a word is heard or uttered. The essential factor in speech is the real sabda, called sphoța by the grammarians, and the outwardly audible sound is dhvani,—a quality of the former, sphotah sabdah dhvanih sabdagunah.¹⁰¹

Accordingly, grammarians divide sabda into two kinds, kārya and nitya; kārya is what is produced and nitya is what is not produced, but is permanent, continual, fixed or eternal. It is not unoften that confusion has clouded the import of the statement “ nityah sabdah”. Often nitya is translated "eternal" in the sense of "Indestructible", "immutable", avicali, kūtastha etc. context, Patanjali, in the first Ahnika of the Mahabhashya explains the various senses in which nitya is used and adds that words are not produced by men, just as a potter does a pot.¹⁰²

We have mentioned the two aspects of sabda, dhvani and sphota; but sphota itself has two aspects as stated, above; it is manifested by utterances, and makes known the sense that is inalienable from it. And this fact we have to bear in mind in view of its equation with the Eternal Word Nityā vāk, urged by reputed grammarians to which we would presently refer.

Thus far the position of the grammarians is intelligible, when we look at speech in its psychological aspect. Those who oppose the Sphota theory take their stand on the word in its external aspect and rightly consider sabda in their sense of the word as anitya, as do the Naiyāyikas; or even when it is stated to be eternal"nitya as is done by the Mimamsakas, it is in the sense of eternality of every letter, the most outward form of śabda. They all refute the Sphotavada,¹⁰⁷

It is difficult to determine the philosophic basis of Sphota theory as conceived by Patanjali. Panini perhaps knew it; but there is no mention of it in his work. There is a sutra in the Ashtadhyayi where the word Sphotayana occurs;¹⁰⁸

It is in the Vakyapadiya of Bhartrihari that we find the first section, called Brahmakāņda treating of the subject of Sphota as a grammatical concept with a philosophical background. As the title of the section implies, the world of sound, sabda, is described here as a manifestation of Brahman, sabdatmakam Brahma. Further, the author goes on to say that the world of objects, arthaprapañca itself is a manifestation of sabda, that the universe is born of chandas.¹⁰⁹

These verses look a paraphrase of Vedic passages, such as "The Word itself became all the worlds”, vägeva vișā bhuvanāni jajñe. Linking the Sphota of the grammarian with the soul, he says, “The inner cogniser who abides in the form of the subtle vāk, word, manifests himself as sabda, in order to express his nature (his own form).”¹¹⁰

Bhartrihari states that the whole world of objects is pervaded by Maha-satta which is the All-Existence as well as the Mahan Atma, the great Soul. In his view, the import of every sentence is a vivid or illumined conception of this maha satta (vākyartha eva pratibha). If this be the import of every sentence in human speech it is opposed to our experience, for we do not have or get the sense or feeling of the Mahan Atma on hearing a sentence. For example, devadattaḥ pacati, “Devadatta cooks.” Hari’s explanation is that the sense of every sentence culminates in sattā, that the inner cogniser, already mentioned, who abides in the form of the subtle vāk, manifests his own form svarūpa in the import of every sentence which is sattā, being or existence. It is indeed a hard nut to crack when the world of differentiated existence is reduced to Mahasatta, and the differences in arthas and sabdas are traced to Para Brahman and Sabda Brahman and ultimately negatived. But Hari comes with the illustration of objects seen differently from distances or in darkness, but presenting their real character ultimately when approached in light. This analogy is given to show that sentences are split into words and the latter into their bases and inflectional elements and the process is not real, though necessary to lead to the vākyartha.¹¹²

It is not our purpose to elucidate what all Bhartrihari has stated on Sphota and Vakyartha. It is to illustrate how he has presented the theory of Sphota the above examples were warranted and given. Nor is it necessary to discuss what later authors have added, much less to examine how far are reliable certain statements with reference to sphota, such as “Omkara (Pranava) is the same as Sphota”, “Sphota is audible to the yogin when he concentrates in the heart”, “The Madhyama nāda is the sphota and vaikhari¹¹³

In their zeal to establish the sphota-väda on what they thought to be stronger grounds, later authors have gone the length of identifying the inner sound (that one hears by closing the ears with fingers) with the Sphota, Madhyama Våk which again is the Pranava, the creative word, the śabda Brahman! It is not that we doubt that Náda is heard in Yoga. Let us leave aside the inward sound that is heard by closing the ears, or in ordinary Japa; for this is rather too gross and mechanical to merit notice. It is certainly a fact of yogic experience that näda is heard in certain lines of yogic practice, not one kind of nāda, but many kinds; and the näda that the yogin hears need not be of a short duration, it can continue for a long time, it can be constant also. But is that the Sphota? That is the question. Is that the Sphota of which Patanjali speaks when he distinguishes it from dhvani? Is that the sphota of which Bhartrihari speaks as the inner cogniser, antaro jnātā, who takes on the subtle word-form to manifest himself?

Now we shall turn to the ſabda-brahman with which sphota is equated, or even identified and see how far and in what sense this is reasonable. Brahman is the word for the Mantra in the Vedic language. The Veda is called Brahmakośa, since it is the repository of knowledge in the form of Sabda. The ultimate Truth which is the source and mainstay of world-existence, the supreme Being all-pervasive and beyond and without which there is nothing, is called Brahman in the later portions of the Vedas, the Upani sads. Though, as in the Gita, by śabda-brahman the Vedas are meant, the Agamas (Tantras) and the Puranas with the general support of the Vedic wisdom interpret Para Brahman as the supreme Artha and sabda-brahman as the sakti inherent in it. In other words, if the supreme meaning, paramärtha, of All-Existence is Isvara, Isvari is the sabda, the inseparable sakti, the Power of manifestation. In Creation, it is said, the Sabda-ssyți precedes arthasysți. It is the Creative Word, Vak, the primordial sound that manifests the world of objects, artha. Vak, sabda, is sakti, the dynamic principle of Creation, the Force of the substance which is the Artha. And without artha, Sabda has nothing to manifest and artha is unmanifest without sabda. And this certainly corresponds to the ancient truth that sakti is inseparable from śiva and has no existence without Him, while He has no manifestation without Her. That is why Sanskrit thinkers use the simile of Sun and sunlight, or Fire and heat to explain the character of siva-ſakti union, which, as we have seen, is also the relation of Vag-artha—a profound truth transparent in the poetic utterance of Kalidasa in the invocatory verse of his great Poem.

This view, then, makes it clear that what is called sabda-brahman in the sense of sakti or expressive Force is the efficient cause of world-existence, while the Substance, the material cause is Para Brahman. But when it is used in the sense of Vedas, it is the Primordial Eternal sensible Sound, which is the Immutable repository of Vibrant Intelligence whence spring the Vedas, all words of Wisdom and Works. It is signified by the mystic syllable OM, which is as much a symbol as ’a living word expressive of the “Immutable, supreme Ether or Akāśā” (Aksaram paramam vyoma). Here again, it is not the external aspect of the letter, but the inner sensible sound OM that raises the necessary set of vibrations to manifest the sense of the Supreme Being, Išvara, in the consciousness of the utterer and the hearer. Apart from its inherent potency as the Sound-substance of all sounds, Om is used in the Sanskrit language as a word of affirmation and sanction. The Chandog ya Upanişad calls it anujñakşara the word of sanction or approval. In classical Sanskrit and in conversation, it is a word of agreement or affirmation conveying the sense of “O yes”. How this syllable of sanction is also the name expressive of Isvara is an interesting question which need not be discussed here. It is called pranava, because it is highly praised, prakar şeņa nāyate stūyate iti pranavaḥ.¹¹⁴

Undoubtedly, it is this praṇava, Om that represents the Eternal Word, nitya vak of the Rig Veda. The rșis of that age knew the Word Eternal to which they resorted for the discovery of the Inspired speech to express their truth-visions. Because those words of Inspiration came forth from that Eternal Word, they were not treated as separate from, but adored as identical with that supreme source, the Word of all words. The rșis speak of the Riks as the Eternal Word. The power of the word was a self-evident truth with the rșis of the Rig Veda, a fact of their common experience. There are seers who sing the glory of the mantras carved by the heart, hrda tasțān manträn; Rsi parāśara describes the Power of Word: “Our fathers by their word, the Angiras seers, broke the strong and stubborn places, our fathers burst by their cry the rock of the mountain, made within us the path to the Great Heaven, discovered the Day and the sun-world and thought-vision and the herds of light.”¹¹⁵

Dirghatamas, the seer, known for his enigmatic hymns, is for once quite plain in speaking of the Riks as located in the Immutable, most High, akāśa. Here is the first half of the Rik:

“ṛco akṣare parame vyoman yasmin devā adhi viṣve nisedutḥ.” “The Riks abide in the Immutable, supreme Ether where are seated all the Gods.” (R.V.I. 164.39).

Thus will be seen the sacred character of the Hymns of The Rig Veda. It is because of the internal evidence which is the evidence of the Riks themselves referring to the source of their revelation, great authorities and thinkers of ancient times revered the Vedic texts as sacred. In our own times, to the discerning eye of Sri Aurobindo, it (the hymn) is “a means of spiritual progress for himself (the ?și) and for others. It arose out of his soul, it became a power of his mind, it was the vehicle of his self-expression in some important or even critical moment of his life’s inner history. It helped him express the God in him, to destroy the devourer.” These are not "pastoral songs " nor are they invocations to the mere “forces of Nature” as is supposed by modern scholarship supported to some extent by Sāyanācārya’s ritualistic and one-sided interpretation of the Vedas. The Vedic poets are seers with a spiritual vision and the mantras are inspired words of Truth-vision of these seers who belonged to a remote age, an age of Intuition and direct perception, of living and self-conscious speech when the age of Reason was still far off in the womb of the future.

The character of the age determined the character and function of the language. In that far off epoch,“ The word for the Vedic rșis is still a living thing, a thing of power, creative and formative. It is not yet a conventional symbol of an idea, but itself the parent and former of ideas. It carries within it the memory of its root, is still conscient of its history” (Arya, Vol. I. p. 346). From such illuminating passages we can see that the rșis were not system-builders we are familiar with, not thinkers to whom the realities of subtler existence, of mind and soul are abstractions. To the Vedic seer-poet drastā Kavih, “ All experience is real, vivid, sensible, even concrete.”

This is the story of the śabda-Śakti. Its origins are to be sought in the Vedas, the earliest available records of literary language in the history of mankind. As has been already stated, the felt potency inherent in the word was an experience common to the rșis and therefore a recognised fact. When in later ages the original character of speech changed and became more and more conventional, the speech, Vāk, became a servant of the mind, a conventional sign, vocal symbol of an idea. Thinkers, like the Vaiſeșikas, came with the theory that the convention that particular words shall have particular meanings is God’s Will, Iśvarecchā. In other words, the relation of word to its meaning is conventional, sāñketika. But it is the school of grammarians that did not accept the mechanical character of speech as the real sabda. It upheld the original nature and function of speech, expounded the fakti, the innate power of the word, and laid stress on the psychological and spiritual factor in all speech. And in interpreting this subtler aspect influenced by the Vedic tradition, it propounded what is called the “ Theory of Sphota ". In fact, Sphota is not a theory, though one may call it a justifiable assumption for purposes of dialectics.

Before concluding, let us sum up the position of the sphoțavādin and draw pointed attention to the salient features of the Sphoța that have bearing on language and literature. The Sphotavadin holds that a word, whether it is a single letter or a number of letters, can not by virtue of its being a sound-form convey the intended sense but for the fact that there is a permanent form of the word in the subjective being; that the subjective being, the inner cogniser, as related to the world-existence is a constant vibrant Intelligence that assumes the form of the permanent, impartible word, called Sphota; that the uttered word is formal and qualitative and points to the real and substantial word which is inseparable from its meaning; that the qualitative word of letters in which the order of letters is maintained is called dhvani, while the real word, ſabda, called Sphota to which the former is related is indivisible, has no parts and hence the question of the order of letters does not arise; that it is the dhvani that suggests or manifests the sensible word, sabda ; that what we call synonymous words are, strictly speaking, different words implying minute differences in the meanings conveyed and but for the subtle difference in the senses many words to denote the same idea or object would be without purpose. Broadly, this covers the main conclusions of the grammarians as regards Sphota in its relation to language in general.

But the consequence of the grammarians’ conception of Sphota on Literature and Poetics in particular has been far-reaching. Of all the śāstras the prestige of Vyakarana is great, being a limb of the Vedic studies, Vedāñga. Sanskrit rhetors of high repute have always held the views of Grammarians in reverential esteem. They took the cue from the Sphota behind the veil of dhvani and developed their theory of dhvani (suggestion) as being the soul of Poetry, kavyasya ātmā dhvaniḥ. Whoever may be the originator of the theory, it was Anandavardhana who elaborately dealt with the subject and was supported and followed by powerful critics, from Manmata to Jagannatha. It may not be out of place here to mention that some of their views on Poetry would appear quite modern and deserve to endure as long as Poetry lives and has value for us. These ancient writers on Poetics hold that Poetry need not be in verse and can be in prose as well, that even in verse rhyme is not compulsory. In Sanskrit Poetry where there is indulgence in word-jingling, citrakāvya, while the sonorous word is not commensurate with sense and suggestion, it is considered to be bases tuff (adhama-kāvya), clownish, vulgarising the high office of Poetry by jugglery in verbiage. Suggestive poetry (dhvani-kāvya) is the best form of Poetry. Suggestive of what? Suggestive of truth or idea or fact, of a figure or image, or of rasa, what is inadequately translated as flavour. Suggestive Poetry is excellent and ideal because there it is the suggestion, dhvani, that predominates, while the sound and sense subserve the soul of Poetry. The special function of Poetry is to appeal to the aesthetic soul, rasika, steal into the heart profound truths and ideas or awaken it through higher emotions to the Self-delight of the Spirit, the true Rasa of which the nine rasas are figures in terms of the emotional mind.

Religious scriptures teach us profound truths indeed; they instruct us as to what is and what is not to our good; but they do it as the master commands his servant. Other subordinate texts and sacred legends of ancient times, instruct and advise; but they do it as friend advises friend. But Poetry brings about the same result in her peculiar way; she does not command like a master, as do the Scriptures; she does not advice like a friend, as do the Purāṇas; she accomplishes her object by an intimate appeal, as the beloved wins the heart of her lover, by her charm of address and resonant sense, by a pleasing tact of expression laden with suggestions, finding her way straight to the soul of her lower, for his acceptance and delectation. Such is the value and high purpose of Poetry according to Sanskrit rhetoricians.

Thus it will be seen that the Sphota of the Grammarians has played not a small part in the development of the dhvani school of thought in poetics. If the Sphota has inspired the alñakārikas to discover and describe the character and function of Poetry in the manner stated above, it is itself based upon the great cosmological truth of the Vedic and Tantrik scriptures that it is the Word Eternal and indivisible that creates the world of objects, that all names are varied forms and suggestive signs of the One Name and all forms are different expressions, significant moulds and meanings, of the Sole Supreme Being beyond and behind all names and all forms, śabda and artha. If in regard to world-existence it is the view of the Sanskrit Grammarians that all creation is in a state of perpetual flux, becoming, as has been earlier shown in dealing with the question of dhātus (roots) as bhāva-vacana or kriyā-vacana, their view of the individual soul in its interchange with the world-surrounding is notable in that it is a cognitive being who reflects, represents, and assumes the subtle sensible form of the Creative Word for the purpose of unfolding himself, the powers of his own being in the manifested existence, as has been shown by an examination of the question of Sphota. In the light of this brief discussion on some of the concepts of Sanskrit grammarians, their spiritual value or philsophic appreciation can be safely left to the judgement of the thoughtful reader.

Sphota, then, is the vāk, the subtle voice which is the basis of all speech in mind-form, vāci pratisthitam manaḥ; it is not the vāk, speech, of which mind is the mainstay, manasi pratisthitā vāk. Sphoța is not a fanciful concept, but a fact of psychological experience, a truth of our spiritual being in evolution. It is the expressional aspect of the soul; it receives the vocal sound-vibrations, takes in their sound-essence and sense-values and assimilates them into the subtle sound-stuff of its indivisible being. In its responses, it breaks forth surcharged with intelligence, sphuțati, and raises subtle vibrations that are later vocalised. In short, it is the inner being, not the soul that is immersed in the unspeakable silence, but the soul that is emergent with a purpose — the purpose of discovering its own being in expression, vyaktaye sva-svarūpasya. Here, in the inner depths in the etheric regions of the Heart, it is the āntaro jnātā of Bhartrhari, the one indivisible permanent śabda of Patañjali; there, in the Immutable supreme ākāśa, it is the sabda brahman of the Scriptures, the nityā vāk of the Rig Veda.