A Blog on Mythology and occasionally on Reality.


This is a Blog on Mythology, both Indian and World and especially the analysis of the myths.

In effect, the interpretation of the inherent Symbolism.


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Showing posts with label Mahabharata. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mahabharata. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 8, 2017

Does a society learn from its past?

Does a society learn from its past? Past mistakes to be precise? Has our nation learnt from the gut-wrenching incident of a Nirbhaya on a fateful night of December 2012? Have rapes and murders of women stopped? Have the changes in law brought any respite to a woman? Is she more secure today?

At the cost of repetition, does a society learn from its mistakes? No, it seldom does.

All of us are well aware of the episode of Draupadi’s vastraharan or disrobing after she was lost in the dice game, by her husband, Yudhishtir. Many say that it was this that led to Kurukshetra, while some say, it was Draupadi’s laughter at Duryodhana at Indraprastha. Irrespective of it, the society blames Draupadi for the war. But going back the episode of the disrobing; an effort is made to disrobe Draupadi and her husband/s say nothing. They remain mute observers, as they were supposed to be following the dharma of a slave! Allowing ones wife to be stripped in public and not stand by her, could never be part of any dharma, was forgotten by none other than Dharma-raj himself.

One would think that such an experience would be enough to last a lifetime for a person like Yudhishtir, right? Wrong!

Let me relate another incident that happens after sometime and Yudhishtir behaves in the same way, as he did earlier and thus my concern – does society ever learn?

After the Pandavs lost everything in the dice game, in spite of Draupadi winning everything back with her arguments and invoking humanity, in the court of Hastinapur, the Pandavs are sent to exile for twelve years and an additional year incognito, i.e. in disguise. If they were found out in the thirteenth year, then they would have to go for another thirteen years in exile.

During the thirteenth year, the Pandavs and Draupadi decided to take refuge at the court of Virata, all in disguise. Yudhistir becomes the advisor to the King and Draupadi becomes one of maids of the Queen Sudeshna of Virata. However, Draupadi’s beauty attracts the evil gaze of the Queen’s bother Keechaka, who is also the powerful army chief. Draupadi tries to stall his advances, but is unable to do much when the Queen herself insists that she give in to her advances. Queen Sudeshna once forced Draupadi to take wine for Keechaka in his chambers. Once there, Keechaka tries to molest her and Draupadi to avoid his advances runs away from his chambers and lands up in the court seeking protection from the king and her husband, Yudhishtir, who was present in the court.

Keechaka follows her to the court, and seizing her by her hair throws her down on the earth, kicked her in the very presence of the King, and of course her husband Yudhishtir. Draupadi urges the King to intervene and save her from the mighty Keechaka who has been casting evil eye on her, a married woman, all this while hoping Yudhishtir would intervene. While the King didn’t know how to react, as Keechaka was his brother-in-law and a general, the courtiers applauded Draupadi’s stance of seeking justice in an open court against the wrong-doings of Keechaka, which were well known. To Draupadi’s horror, Yudhishtir speaks and scolds her for disturbing the proceedings of the court and bringing such complaints in front of everybody. He further tells her not to put up an act and go back to the inner chambers of the Queen and not come back with such lamentations to the court, especially when a dice game is on!
Draupadi in Virata's palace, by Raja Ravi Varma

While many say, that Yudhishtir said this as he did not want to risk being recognized in the crucial thirteenth year, the fact remains, that once again Draupadi was insulted and once again her husband did not come to her help. I repeat, does the society learn from its past mistakes? While Yudhishtir could have managed to save Draupadi with some of his advise and that too in a court which was averse to Keechaka, Yudhistir decided to reprimand Draupadi for ‘wasting the time of the court’.

Misplaced sense of duty or selfish agenda, or both?

On this Women’s day, I urge people to stand up for women, irrespective of one’s political and ideological affiliations. A woman’s dignity is of prime significance and no crime on her part can justify, lynching, molestation and public humiliation and in modern times, social media trolling. The society has no right to breach codes of morality both written and unwritten. This society has enough Keechaka’s and Sudeshna’s, but it is the responsibility of every citizen to stand by a woman, irrespective of her ‘crime’. It’s time to pull down curtains on the age-old lip-service that a woman is a mother and goddess and she needs to be worshipped. A woman doesn’t need to be worshipped; she needs to be respected for who she is – an individual. While today’s woman can take care of herself, if a man stands by her, it would only act as a fillip.

And finally, men, don’t be Yudhishtirs, be a Bhima. Just to conclude the story, Draupadi goes to Bhima and relates everything. Next night Bhima kills Keechaka. Bhima stands by his wife.

If a woman is safe, everyday will be a woman’s day; if she is not, what's the big deal in celebrating it even for one day?





Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Satyavati


Launching my second book, "Satyavati" the much forgotten and often sidelined woman from the epic Mahabharata who was responsible for changing the course of destiny of many a character in the epic!



Check it out on the Readify app




Thursday, July 23, 2015

Gurudakshina

Have you ever wondered why there are different rules for different people? A recent article in the newspaper said, that the rich and powerful go unpunished or get bails in days (or hours in certain cases), and the poor languish in jails for years without trials. Why are there different rules for different people, one for the poor and one for the rich and powerful?

The answer to it probably lies in an interesting episode in the Odiya Mahabharata which in a way highlights this aspect.

Rishi Sandipani was the guru of Lord Krishna and Balarama. As per the rules of the times, Krishna and Balarama used to stay at the ashram of the sage. Once the sage had gone to bathe in the rivers, and lost his son in a huge wave. They could not even retrieve the body of the child. This loss had brought immense sadness to the sage and his wife, as they had already lost sons earlier, and this was their last child alive. The sage and his wife decided to end their lives as there was no desire to live.

Krishna and Balarama were very intelligent as students. Everything needed to be taught only once. They had finished their education and it was soon time for them to leave. But seeing the guru distraught due to the loss of their son, they decided to stay on for some more time, though there was nothing more for them to learn.

However, it was soon time to leave. Krishna approached the sage and offered guru-dakshina (his fees) before leaving. The sage desired nothing as he craved for no wealth, as there was none to inherit it. When Krishna insisted, since an education that has not been paid for was of no use, the sages wife said, that if he must, then he should bring their son back to life. While this was not quite possible and against the norm, Krishna did not say anything, though he felt that the sage lost an opportunity to seek moksha for himself.

Krishna approached the god of the seas, Varuna who told Krishna that the child was not with him, but at Yamaloka. Popular versions say, that the child was killed by the demon, Shankhasura (conch demon), who had made his home in a conch named the panchajanya. Krishna took the panchajanya, and blew it in the presence of Yama and sought the release of the sage’s son. Yama gives in and Krishna returns with the sage’s son, and since then Krishna is said to have retained his conch, the panchajanya.

The Odiya version however differs here slightly. On learning from Varuna about the child being in Yamaloka, Krishna approached Yama. When Yama sees Krishna, he asks him for the reason of his visit, and that too when he was an avatara. The inmates of the Yamaloka who were undergoing torture and pain, felt a great relief by the presence of Krishna. The dialogue between Krishna and Yama is interesting.

Krishna reprimands Yama for taking the lives of children, when they have committed no crimes, the logic being that they have not even had time or the maturity to commit crimes or sins. Children were not sinners, so ending their lives, was unfair. To this Yama said, that children did not die early because of their sins; they died because of the sins of their parents, especially the sexual transgressions of their parents. That was the law of the mankind. Strangely people never blamed themselves and would blame destiny and Yama for such tragedies. Interestingly, Yama then accuses Krishna, of the same! He then tells Krishna, that it is strange that the rules of the humans was seemingly not followed by the Lord himself, as he was seen indulging in the most irresponsible sexual dalliances with many and that too in what seemed to be in a casual manner. Yama continued, that if avatars (and great lives) like him indulged in such activities, what examples would they be setting on ordinary mortals?

While Yama was correct in his argument, the devotee in the author of this version gives the following explanation. Krishna is supposed to have said, that if that was the logic of early deaths of children, then let from that day all children born out of any union with him not be seen as the children of sexual transgression. While he accepted that he was guilty of improper sexual unions with many, let them not be seen as sexual misdemeanours and the women not be seen as violators. While Yama could continue his justice all over the world, he should leave his offspring untouched. Yama did not argue (and accepted the words), giving birth to a well-known Odiya proverb – “bada lokanku uttara nahi” – there is no answer to the great men; to further paraphrase – the powerful are above the law!!

Krishna however returns with the child of the sage and hands him over to the sage who was very happy, though he realised that his student had done something against the norms of nature and what seemed to be a lurking doubt in his mind, was a surety now. The sage realised that the student was none other than Narayan himself. The sage also realised his mistake of not seeking his moksha, the ultimate goal of all lives. The author of the Odiya version ends very beautifully by saying, that the sage must have realised that when the defining moment comes, it is always the nara who fails the Narayana, never the other way round!

Rishi Sandipani’s ashram is said to be situated in the modern city if Ujjain, MP, India, and is a place of reverence for many believers.


Based on the English translation of the Odiya Mahabharat by Shri B. N. Patnaik.




Saturday, February 14, 2015

Mandapal and Lapita

A love story from the epic Mahabharata.

Lapita was the daughter of a sage and was brought up in a hermitage. Though she was brought up in the confines of an ashram, she had a favourite spot in the forest, which was a small heaven for her. It was lush green bower, with sweet fragrant flowers and humming bees all around. At this place, once she had offered water to two thirsty Kinnars, who in return had offered her a boon. The simple Lapita did not know what to ask for. So she asked instead, “What can you offer me?”

Kinnars were mythical creatures, and they said that all they could offer was a life like theirs. Lapita wondered what kind of a life would that be? “A life of love and that of a lover and none other. There was no place for a third in their love, not even offspring’s, but a life of everlasting love.” Said the Kinnars. Lapita wondered if that was life at all, and the Kinnars assured her that it sure was life. Lapita opted for a life of everlasting love and since then was waiting for her lover in this bower of hers.

Sitting in the swing in her bower, she would wait for her lover, for she had faith in her boon and love. Some days were days of longing and some days the loneliness pained. But she knew that love was not far and soon, her lover would come for her.
 
Painting by Raja Ravi Varma
One spring morning, she found a handsome rishi, the most handsome rishi she had ever seen, standing in front of her bower. He was Mandapal, who had once embraced the life of celibacy to seek knowledge. His father had suggested that he get married and live the life of a householder, to ensure salvation of his and his ancestors. While he had not quite heeded his father’s wishes and that of the society, he was also told that there was a girl Jarita, who was waiting for him and would marry none but him. The thought of such a person waiting for someone giving up on normal life intrigued the seeker of knowledge and thus had decided to seek her out and so he was on his way to the Khandavprastha, the forest where Jarita dwelled.

Lapita wondered what made Mandapal seek Jarita suddenly. Mandapal replied that he had realised that there was no life without a wife and offspring’s and that he had to attain completion. Lapita laughed and wondered what kind of a life would that be when more than two is a crowd? Lapita espoused the life of love which had space for none between two lovers. Mandapal was unsure if that was life and wondered who this woman was. Lapita assured him that she too was a mortal and knew that such life did exist and was more enjoyable than what Mandapal was seeking.

Mandapal couldn't help but exclaim that while Lapita sure was beautiful, the same couldn't be said of her thoughts. “I have never come across a plant which didn't like flowers”, and with these words Mandapal left the bower of Lapita. But Lapita’s eyes had found whom she was seeking and knew that this was her love. She called Mandapal and said that he could go seek a life that he wanted, but she had found hers. She would love none but him and wait for him. From, then onwards, her eyes would seek and wait for none but Mandapal. Mandapal saw the pained and sad face of Lapita and moved on.

Jarita was ecstatic to see Mandapal. Her happiness knew no bounds when she saw him and her prayers answered. The two got married and time flew fast. The marriage yielded children, as desired by them and the society and soon Jarita got busy with life, family and children. Mandapal was beginning to feel a void in his life as he found Jarita always busy with their four children. Mandapal’s love was seeking a partner and he never found Jarita with him, even when the two were alone, as she was always preoccupied by the thoughts of her children and their needs and wants. Mandapal’s heart felt lonely. Jarita realised it and assured him that on the full moon night, she would meet her as before.

That night Mandapal met Jarita with garland with the choicest of fragrant flowers. But just when he was about to garland her, Jarita rushed to attend to one of their children, who she thought had called for her. Mandapal’s unfulfilled love burnt him inside and he left home. He soon found himself at the bower of Lapita who was waiting for Mandapal ever since he had left the bower many years back. Lapita had vowed that her partner would be none other than the handsome rishi Mandapal and she welcomed him. Mandapal garlanded Lapita and lived a life of love and joy, till.....

One day, Mandapal noticed Lord Hutashan, the god of fire heading towards Khandavprastha in what seemed to be a bid to consume the forest. This disturbed Mandapal, as his cottage was in the same forest. Lapita noticed the disturbed face of Mandapal and asked him the cause of his concern. When Mandapal told her that he was worried about the safety of his children, Lapita was saddened to see, that Mandapal’s heart still ached for someone other than her. When Mandapal decided to pray to Lord Hutashan, she got angry, but agreed to join Mandapal in his entreaties to the lord of fire.

Mandapal was relieved when Lord Hutashan agreed to spare the single hut of Mandapal, but Lapita was disturbed to learn that Mandapal had not erased the memories of his first love. She could not reconcile with the fact that Mandapal’s heart still ached for Jarita, who he had wanted to be spared. Mandapal was saddened at Lapita’s jealousy and wondered as to what kind of a heart could even think that a man’s heart would not ache for his children and his wife who had done no harm to him. Mandapal, realised that this was not the life he had wanted as this had no place for anyone, not even ones loved ones, and he decided to leave Lapita and return to the mother of his children. Mandapal heard Lapita say, “If you don’t return to me, then I will tear this garland and curse the objects of your love and attention.”

Jarita received Mandapal, but the joy was missing. She had welcomed the father of her children but this was not the man who she had loved. Mandapal had returned for her children and not for her, she said. But Mandapal assured her that he had returned to his home and his life of love. Today he had understood the true meaning of love and his love had found its true meaning. His life was nothing without both Jarita and their children. He had got lost in seeking pleasure and not love. But now he had found love.

Mandapal drew Jarita closer to him, but just then Lapita sprang in front of them from nowhere. She had the same garland which Mandapal had given to her when he had come to her bower. Her eyes gleaming had Mandapal worried. At last she said, “Don’t worry Mandapal, I will do nothing to you as I accept defeat. Defeat not from you or from your wife, who sure is more beautiful than me. But defeat from those who have made your wife more beautiful than me. The precious gems which adorn her, your children.” Mandapal pleaded to Lapita not to curse his children, as they were most precious to him than any wealth of the world and so was Jarita who had enabled the wealth to him.

Lapita stared at Mandapal’s sad and helpless face.
She held the torn garland in her hand, and with sadness on her face, said, “No, rishi Mandapal. This garland that you had given me, will now adorn your precious gems. I have not come to curse, but to see, what I have lost. They, who have defeated me, will adorn this garland.” So saying, Lapita garlanded the children of Mandapal and left.....

.......left for her bower, Lapita still alone, but waiting for none.

Here's wishing all my readers a very Happy Valentine's Day!!





This is an abridged version of the English translation by Pradip Bhattacharya, of a Bengali story written by Subodh Ghosh.


Wednesday, January 28, 2015

Navagunjara

Mythology is replete with interesting mythical creatures, some like Kamdhenu, Garuda, Narasimha, Hanuman, or the Greek Centaur and the Egyptian Sphinx to the dangerous ones like Gorgons or the Greae or even the chimera. The one thing common to all of them is that they have been extremely awe-inspiring and at times creative to the last bit.

Many of the above are known to us as our basic knowledge of mythology or have been part of childhood fiction. However, I came across one such interesting creature, which finds a mention only in the Oriya version of the epic Mahabharata, by Adikavi Sarala Dasa. He has created an excellent example of an enigma of a creature, known as Navagunjara, which finds artistic expression in the local paintings better known as Pata-chitra and the Ganjifa playing cards. But first the creature.

During the exile of the Pandavas, once Arjuna was performing penance in the hills of Manibhadra. When Krishna came to know about it, he decided to test Arjuna as it had been a long time since he had met Arjuna. Krishna assumed the form of the Navagunjara, an animal composed of nine different animals. The Navagunara had the head of a rooster, and stood on three feet, each of which was of an elephant, a tiger and the deer or a horse. The fourth limb was a raised human arm carrying a lotus. The creature further had the neck of a peacock the hump of a camel (which incidentally also was in the shape of a linga), the waist of a lion, and the tail was a serpent.
(Courtesy - Rare Book Society  of India *)
When Krishna in the form of the Navagunjara presented himself in front of Arujuna, he was both terrified and baffled. He picked up his bow and arrow to shoot the creature, but paused for a moment trying to understand the creature. How could such a creature exist? Just what could it be? It was at this stage that he understood that this must be none other than Krishna testing him. He immediately bowed his head and sought his blessings.

One wonders what this could be all about. Is it about the ability of Krishna to assume an unexplainable form? Or is it about the limitless creativity of the Creator? As mentioned earlier, this episode is found in no other version of Mahabharata, except in the version by Sarala Dasa. The author’s creativity is full of symbolism and metaphors. Many have compared this with the virata-swaroop of Krishna, except that this one is a baffling form, which is not explained or probably left unexplained.

The Navagunjara is seen as the unfathomable possibility of nature and at times its incomprehensible aspects. The creative manifestation of god and the capability to evoke a sense of awe is unimaginable. The form also implies that not all aspects of god can be understood, no matter how knowledgeable one is, like Arjuna, who was very close to Krishna. Human mind or brain has limitations and some things are beyond the scope of human understanding. While Arjuna was amazed at his own inability to explain the existence of such a creature, his picking up the bow without giving it a thought is an example of human reaction, when there is no prior knowledge of such situations.

While the episode does not have any major bearing
Neela-chakra
on the narrative by itself, it was pregnant with symbols and created a deep impact on the belief system of the locals. Besides being a prominent aspect of Oriya art, as mentioned earlier, it finds a place in the form of a sculpture on the famous Lord Jagannath Temple walls in Puri, Orissa, besides the eight of them crafted on the Neela-chakra or the disc above the temple.

Needless to say, that among all the mythical creatures that I have come across, I find this the most enigmatic. Another such creature that comes to my mind is the Sharabha form of Lord Shiva, though not as creative or metaphorical as Navagunjara.



*Image source - The Metropolitan Museum of Art with Prashanth Nair

Monday, August 18, 2014

Death by Deceit



On the occasion of Janamashtami, the birthday of Krishna, I would like to discuss an important allegation leveled against him in the epic Mahabharata. These views are not subjective opinion shrouded in devotion; rather, these are objective views of a rank rational, if there was one!


In the epic, Mahabharat (Mb), the deaths of Bhishma, Drona and Karna are all seen as acts of treachery by Krishna. The perception is that these deaths were unethical and against all norms of war and also the fact that none of the Pandava’s wanted to kill them under the said circumstances. They were made to resort to such unethical means at the behest of Krishna.


Was this fair? Was it moral? Was it ethical?


To put this in perspective, Mb was not about right or wrong or black and white, instead, it teaches that life is grey. Defining the grey is not easy because it is deeply rooted to the context. Every character has a shade of grey and that is what makes him or her closer to a human being. S/he was a combination of strengths and weaknesses and thus consequences.


While the said deaths are seen as injustices in the particular episode of the war, one should also see it along with the innumerable injustices meted out on the Pandavas that had taken place before the Kurukshetra, like the incident of lakshagraha, malpractices in the dice game leading to exile and that too with unfavourable conditions, Draupadi’s insult, not giving the Promised Land after 13 years, to mention some of them. The lives of the Pandavs had been spent more in jungles than the palace which was their rightful home. The war itself was not of equals – the Kauravas had a much bigger army, than that of the Pandavs. However, the deaths of the heroes were not to be seen as a tit-for-tat justice system.


In the ‘killing’ of the said ‘heroes’ there was no ill design. Such decisions were taken in what is better understood in management parlance as ethics of the emergency situation. Ethics of emergency situation implies ethical decisions which have be taken in dire emergencies. Emergency is better understood as crisis or an urgent situation. This ethics of the emergency situation in this case was keeping the greater good of society in view, and certainly not for personal gains. The deviation from the norm, was not really for any personal benefit here at all, including saving of lives. Krishna resorted to the ethics of the emergency situation in getting all of them eliminated (not killed) toward the greater good of humanity, through means that are questionable outside of the context. They were all, by the way, associated with an unjust cause, and had serious personal flaws in their characters.


Bhishma was myopic in his ‘serving the throne’. The focus on saving the throne was so strong that he could not see anything beyond it. He had a very myopic definition of his existence and a life whose virtues had serious ramifications, which in the larger interest were being misused by the perpetrators of evil. Drona was guided by first an initial enmity with Drupad and then the future of his son. Both were personal agendas, and he did not have any serious affinity for either the Kauravs or Pandavs. A teacher of his stature who had much in his power and capabilities was unfortunately driven by narrow considerations of life. Karna, a hero in the truest sense of the word, was a misplaced hero. His entire life was a quest for recognition, which made him fall slave to a person who had nothing right on his side. His need to repay debts was so strong that it became his sole objective of life.


Were any of these heroes fighting a war of ethics and morals and was their objective to fight a just war, when all in their hearts knew that the cause of the war itself was flawed? What significant efforts were made by each one of them to avoid or stop the war, especially when each one of them was in his own way strong and could have insisted on stopping the war, by just not willing to participate in the war?


Pandavs needed justice to regain all they had lost, after paying a heavy price for their mistakes and Krishna was guided here by the consideration of dharma which had been taken to a different dimension altogether. In the accepted interpretation, the ethics of the emergency situation notwithstanding, truth was by and large given an unconditional status. Krishna’s major motivation was to establish a sense of dharma and satya in the world to come. Did Krishna resort to indulging in ‘lies’ (as many call it) anywhere in the epic except in the specific case of Kurukshetra? Nowhere has Krishna advocated duty for the sake of duty, not without consequential consideration, though certainly without selfish motives. If efforts to establish dharma and satya were selfish motives then he surely had been selfish, lied and committed injustice. But ponder here – never has a lie been uttered anywhere. What was uttered was untruth. Lies are spoken with selfish motives, but an untruth need not have selfish motives.


Here I am reminded of an episode from American Civil War. When General Sherman had decided to burn down Atlanta, his Commander was shocked and wrote to him to stop it. The General is supposed to have told his Commander, “War is cruelty and you cannot refine it”. According to him a war has its own logic and momentum once it begins. It inevitably escalates, and you cannot blame the soldiers and generals for the killing, sometimes mindless. You can only blame those who started it.1 Nothing could be different in Kurukshetra too!


A close look of the epic will reveal that an austere and an unforgiving streak of dharma appeared to run through the epic. If good people are not allowed to win by any means, and if they had to fight justly, then one must be prepared to face the fact that they might lose. There was no guarantee that truth and goodness would prevail in human history. The Pandavas then would have had to accept this and wait, for another day. The outcome of the entire world would have been so different if the most important thing then was to just fight fairly. Since they did not and fought the way they did, they failed in their individual dharma, but managed to uphold dharma at large.


Needless to say that they were punished too with none of them allowed to ‘live happily ever after’. Even Krishna and his community faced elimination and died a bitter death. A big price to pay on the part of the Pandava’s and Krishna for eliminating all that stood for wrong and erroneous and establish the rule of the right and just.


What do you think?





1 The Difficulty of Being Good – By Gurcharan Das





Image courtesy - http://www.stephen-knapp.com/krishna_print_onehundredsixtyseven.htm

Thursday, July 3, 2014

Knowledge Transfer – Lessons from Mythology



Many organisations that I come across seem to have one problem (amongst many) in common and that is Knowledge Transfer (KT). People don’t want to share knowledge and at times people don’t find the existing knowledge worth taking (typical of the Gen X, who have just passed out of elitist colleges), or people not being able to collate and ‘hand-over’ a clearly articulated body of knowledge.


KT is the transfer of knowledge, expertise, skills and capabilities. Is KT a new subject on the horizon or is it just a new phenomenon due to insecurity of the modern day workplaces? KT in its basic form has existed from time immemorial in the form of Gurukuls, and then schools and colleges of present day. Teachers have taught and passed their knowledge to students, some of who have added to the body of work and passed it down to others in the subsequent generations.

Organisations too have seen such transfers earlier. Be they in the form of an Associate, an Apprentice, or just a junior who goes on to learn the tricks of the trade and take on the mantle one fine morning. Sons have been natural heirs, but others too have been honoured with the knowledge and have moved on to start on their own.

But transferring knowledge in an organisation is not as easy as it is in schools and colleges or small set-ups. In a modern-day knowledge based organisations, knowledge is critical. Besides managing knowledge which is in the minds of its employees, transferring the same on their leaving is a critical aspect where many seen to fail, and in many cases, the organisations are not even aware of the failure.

So how does KT become effective and a viable practise for organisations? How do they ensure that nothing is lost or at least substantial is retained before an employee leaves or retires?

KT is effective when the receiver is aware that there is knowledge worth accepting. When the leader is held in awe because of the knowledge, then the transfer is effective. In the epic Ramayan, Ravan was an able administrator. His rule was a golden period for his kingdom (which figuratively was referred to as sone-ki-Lanka, or the land of the gold). When Ravan was on his death-bed, he passed his knowledge of able administration to Ram, which in future came to be referred as Ramrajya. Ram who had dealt the deadly blow to his enemy, accorded Ravan the position of a Guru, and sat down to hear the words of wisdom from the dying asura-King. Knowledge should never die with the person who either created it or mastered it.


In the epic Mahabharat, Vidur has been shown sharing his knowledge of administration frequently with the Pandavs, which is also known as Vidur-niti. This is never done with the Kauravas, since they were never found receptive. Bhishma too promises not to die till he has imparted his knowledge of ethics, morals and values to Yudhishtir and the same was meticulously done from his bed of arrows after the tenth day of the war of Kurukshetra.

Knowledge Transfer is effective, when it is done by the person who is acknowledged to be in a superior position because of the knowledge. His elevated position is because he has some skill, knowledge in his possession. This is akin to the typical guru-shishya parampara where people have gone to acquire the said art or skill. It could be similar to Dronacharya, as a teacher who is willing to pass his skills to all the students in return of some favour, or Parashuram who is willing to pass down his knowledge to Karna in return of no favour.

Knowledge transfer is very effective when it comes in the form of need-of-the-hour. Krishna in his epochal Gita had transferred a huge body of knowledge at the right time to Arjun, which enabled him to fight the war of Kurukshetra. This knowledge till date is translated, interpreted and taught in different ways and the relevance of which seems to be reinvented with changing times.

Knowledge transfer is meaningful, when we know that the said knowledge emanates from reliable sources. The Vedas, Upanishads, etc. are all troves of knowledge which have been recorded for use. Some say, they were passed on by gods through seers for future use, while some say these are learning of the past recorded for generations to come. Even the epic Mahabharat is supposed to have been dictated by Vyas, but written by Ganesha – where is the reason to doubt such an epic which has been written by a god with his own piece of tooth?

Finally what makes KT most effective is the method of the transfer. Many a times, if it is passed down as tomes of knowledge, it is ineffective. Let me tell you a story here. Once upon a time there lived a king who had three sons and according to the king all his sons were idiots and he wondered how could he ever leave the throne to any one of them, when none of them were worth anything? His worry was solved by a person, who promised to educate his sons and make them worthy of the throne. This man focused on the wisdom of the scriptures rather than the scriptures itself. He created stories which would teach a lesson or a moral and make the learning more interesting, instead of didactic or moralistic. Soon the Princes were a Kings delight and each one of them was eligible to occupy the throne! This man was none other than the famous Vishnu Sharma and what he wrote for the princes is known to all of us Panchatantra! The Panchatantra or the five treatise cover all aspects of management, personal life and the cunning that one needs to have to face life.

Just as lessons are easy to impart, but not-so-easy to understand, so is the case with Knowledge Transfer. It is easy to speak about it, even easier to lay down
Courtesy Dilbert.com
the processes that govern the transfer, but very complex to execute. The biggest impediment to the process is the fear of redundancy. In an ever increasing competitive environment, ones knowledge is perceived as ones asset acquired over a long period of time and to pass it down as a process does not settle well with an individual who is feeling insecure in the first place. Needless to say, that the same cannot be done overnight too, after all KT is not a case of divine revelation!

KT needs to be part of an organisational process from day one. Every process or step in an organisation should aid the Knowledge accumulation leading to its dissemination. It has to be a top-down approach. A Bhishma needs to be visible to the system who is willing to share his knowledge or a leader like Ram needs to be seen in all humility willing to accept knowledge from even his enemy.

The day, sharing knowledge becomes a part of an organisations DNA, Knowledge Transfer will be seamless and as normal as any other regular process of the organisation!