by Bibek Debroy
If it be I, he’ll bag his little tail,
And if it not be I, he’ll loudly bark and wail.’
Home went the little woman all in the dark,
Up got the little dog, and he began to bark;
He began to bark, so she began to cry,
’Oh! deary, deary me, this is none of I.’
17. Hark hark the dogs do bark
The beggars are coming to town
Some in rags and some in tags
And one in a velvet gown.
18. There was a little dog and he had a little tail
And he used to wag, wag, wigit!
But when he was sad, because he had been bad,
On the ground he would drag, drag, drag it!
There is even a limerick about dogs. Or at least, one specific type of dog, the poodle.
A poodle was charged by the law
With resembling Hall Caine. With his paw
Pressed close to his forehead,
He sobbed, ‘Yes, it’s horrid,
But at least it’s not Bernard Shaw!’
{3}
Sarama
Even if there was antipathy towards the dog in Judaism and Christianity, over a period of time, this antipathy disappeared. In contrast, attitudes in Islam are different, in the sense that the antipathy does not seem to have disappeared over time, but remains. What about Hinduism?
Unlike what we perceive from Chapter 2, the impression about the dog in India is one of neglect. Here is a quote from A.L. Basham’s The Wonder that Was India.1 ‘Cow, horse, sheep and goat were the important domestic animals that the Aryans knew. The elephant in only mentioned in late hymns and then as a wild animal. A divine bitch, Sarama, plays an important part in a legend which cannot be fully constructed, but the dog did not mean as much to the people of the Rg Veda as it did to a kindred Aryan pastoral people, the ancient Iranians, who made it a sacred animal.’ Basham adds,2 ‘The dog is only once mentioned with respect and affection in Indian literature, and was rarely if ever treated as a pet. The exception occurs in the Mahabharata, where the five Pandava brothers and their wife Draupadi take their dog with them on their final pilgrimage to heaven, and the eldest brother Yudhisthira refuses to enter without his faithful friend. It has been suggested that the episode shows Iranian influence, for with Zoroastrians the dog was a sacred animal.’ Maybe yes and maybe no, so far as the Iranian influence is concerned. Because as everyone familiar with the Mahabharata story knows, this was not a real dog. It was Dharma disguised as a dog. However, the incident occurred when the Pandavas were making their way towards heaven, and across cultures, the dog is a worthy companion and escort in such situations.
Dog figurines have been found in the Indus Valley civilization.3 And so have dog burials. These figurines are of short-haired and small-bodied dogs, perhaps bred from wild red dogs or wolves. A terracota figurine from Harappa shows a begging dog that wears a beaded collar. The figurine of a fighting dog with a projecting collar has been found in Mohenjodaro. Mesopotamian texts refer to spotted or red dogs that came from the Indus Valley region. In excavations in Rupar, a dog’s skeleton has been found under the skeleton of a man.4 The dog died in grief when the master died, or was sacrificed as a sign of the dead man’s ownership. It is not very clear which it was, and a similar example has been found from Neolithic levels in Burzahom (Kashmir valley).
To get back to Sarama, in Indian mythology, there are three different Saramas. The first is Vibishana’s wife, daughter of the Gandharva king, Shailusha. The second Sarama is wife to the sage Kashyapa. And the third Sarama is the first dog. The second and the third Sarama are linked, as we will point out later. For the moment, we are talking about the Sarama who is the dog. She is Indra’s dog, she is the shuni (dog) of the devas (gods) and therefore, she is known as devashuni. This is the divine bitch Basham refers to. It is because other dogs are descended from Sarama that they are known as sarameya.5 Dogs have other names also. Many years ago, Amarsinha composed Amarkosha. It is difficult to give a precise date, perhaps in the eighth century CE. This is a bit like a Sanskrit encyclopaedia or index. Amarkosha (2/10/21) gives seven different names for dogs—Kouleyaka, Sarameya, Kukkura, Mrigadangshaka, Shunaka, Bhashaka and Sva. Alarka is the name for a mad or diseased dog, while Vishvakadru is a dog used for hunting. As is to be expected, as per Amarkosha, female dogs or bitches have the names Sarama or Shuni. Some of these names, like Mrigadangshaka, reinforce the proposition that dogs were used for hunting. Or at least identified with hunting. The word Kapila also means dog, presumably only when tawny in colour. Sarama takes us back to the Vedic period, more specifically, the Rg Veda. There are references to dogs also in the other vedas, more accurately, in the Atharva Veda. But those references do not add to what we know from the Rg Veda, except some sections of the Atharva Veda that we will mention later. It is impossible to date the Rg Veda without generating a controversy. But let us say we are talking about 2000 to 1500 BCE. The other vedas came later, between 900 and 600 BCE.
The Rg Veda (10/108/1–11) has a dialogue between Sarama and the panis. This is the legend Basham mentions and it is a legend that has been analyzed several times, down the ages. The panis were robbers and Sarama has been sent as a messenger to them. The composition of suktas in the Rg Veda Samhita is usually ascribed to particular sages. This sukta is not ascribed to any particular sage. Sarama and the panis are named as the sages.
Let us first reproduce the most-quoted and academically perhaps the most respected translation of the Rg Veda, done by Ralph T.H. Griffith in 1889.6 Here it is, on Sarama and the panis.
What wish of Sarama hath brought her hither? The path leads far away to distant places. What charge hast thou for us? Where turns thy journey? How hast thou made thy way o’er Rasa’s waters?
I come appointed messenger of Indra, seeking your ample stores of wealth, O Panis. This hath preserved me from the fear of crossing: thus have I made my way o’er Rasa’s waters.
What is that Indra like, what is his aspect whose envoy, Sarama, from afar thou comest? Let him approach, and we will show him friendship: he shall be made the herdsman of our cattle.
I know him safe from harm: but he can punish who sent me hither from afar as envoy. Him rivers flowing with deep waters bide not. Low will ye be, O Panis, slain by Indra.
These are the kine which, Sarama, thou seekest, flying, O Blest One, to the ends of heaven. Who will loose these for thee without a battle? Yea, and sharp-pointed are our warlike weapons.
Even if your wicked bodies, O ye Panis, were arrow-proof, your words are weak for wounding; And were the path to you as yet unmastered, Brhaspati in neither case will spare you.
Paved with the rock is this our treasure-chamber; filled full of precious things, of kine, and horses. These Panis who are watchful keepers guard it. In vain hast thou approached this lonely station.
Rsis will come inspirited with Soma, Angirases unwearied, and Navagvas. This stall of cattle will they part among them: then will the Panis wish these words unspoken.
Even thus, O Sarama, hast thou come hither, forced by celestial might to make the journey. Turn thee not back, for thou shalt be our sister:
Brotherhood, sisterhood, I know not either: the dread Angirases and Indra know them. They seemed to long for kine when I departed. Hence, into distance, be ye gone, O Panis.
Hence, far away, ye Panis! Let the cattle lowing come forth as holy Law commandeth, Kine which Brhaspati, and Soma, Rsis, sages, and pressing-stones have found when hidden.
Note that when this was composed, Brihaspati and Indra had not become separate and distinct gods. Consequently, Brihaspati was also used as a synonym for Indra. A little knowledge is dangerous. The Manorama Yearbook has this to say. ‘Dogs were used for crime detection in the Vedic age. The Rig Veda speaks of how a dog named Sarma [sic], located the sage Brihaspati’s stolen cow.’7 That is hardly accurate. Understandably, Griffith’s language is old. Here, in simpler language, is the dialogue between Sarama and t
he panis.
The panis: O Sarama! Why have you come here to visit us? The path that comes here is long and difficult. How did you come here? How did you pass the night? How did you manage to cross the waters of the Rasa river?8
Sarama: O panis! I am Indra’s messenger. It is he who has sent me to you. You have a lot of cows and it is my desire to retrieve them. The waters of the river could do me no harm as I was protected by the gods. It is true that, at first, I was scared of the crossing. But I managed to cross and come over to the other bank.
The panis: O Sarama! What is your master Indra like? How strong is he? What does he look like? How many soldiers does he have? You have come a long way at the behest of your master. We would like Indra to be our friend. We would like him to be our master. We would like Indra to look after our cattle as well.
Sarama: I know that my master can never be destroyed. He is the one who destroys everything. Such is the master at whose behest I have travelled such a long distance. The deep waters of the river could not run counter to the wishes of my master. O panis! Listen to what I have to say. It is certain that Indra will slaughter you all.
The panis: O Sarama! You are the fortunate one. You may be able to reach the furthest points of the sky. You expressed a desire to obtain the cows. But who is going to let go of the cows without a fight? We have many sharp weapons that we can fight with.
Sarama: O panis! Your words are not those that should be used by warriors. You are sinners. And therefore you will not have the strength to use your arrows. You will not be able to tread properly. Brihaspati will never grant you happiness.
The panis: O Sarama! We have hidden the treasure in a place that is surrounded by mountains. There are cows, horses and many other riches. We panis are well-versed in the art of defence. We will be able to protect our treasure. Our cows and riches are safe. You have wasted a trip.
Sarama: The sages Angirasa and Ayasya will be fortified after drinking the soma juice. They will come here straight. They will free all the cows. O panis! Then you will have to retract your proud words.
The panis: O Sarama! We know that you have been frightened by the gods and forced to come here. We look upon you as our own sister. Do not return to Indra. O beautiful one! Stay here. We will give you a share of the cows.
Sarama: O panis! I cannot be your sister and you are not my brothers. I do not know these relationships. I only know Indra and the powerful Angirasa. When I return and tell Indra what has happened, he will come and invade you. He will deliver the cows. You will run far away if you know what is good for you. O panis! Flee far away. Free the cows and let them go up to heaven. Brihaspati will receive the cows that you have secreted so well. You have tried to keep it a secret. But Soma, Indra and the sages have found out where the cows are hidden.
Is this legend to be interpreted literally or metaphorically? The word Sarama comes from the root sri, meaning to run. Therefore, Sarama is something that is fleet of foot. And in the metaphorical interpretation, which is the traditional one, Sarama is therefore Usa, or dawn. In contrast to devas, from the root div or light, the panis stood for the forces of darkness. There is a perpetual struggle between the forces of light and darkness. Night, or the force of darkness, has stolen the rays of light (the Sun) in the form of cows and Sarama or Usa has been sent as a messenger to retrieve them. In a slight variant of the metaphorical interpretation, the cows are not rays of light, but the rain clouds. These too have been stolen by the panis and Indra releases them after the battle and subsequent triumph over the panis.
Along these traditional lines, ‘The hymn, as Griffith notes, “is a colloquy between Sarama, the messenger of the Gods or of Indra … and the Panis or envious demons who have carried off the cows or rays of light which Indra wishes to recover”.’9 Or going back all the way to Max Muller, ‘The bright cows, the rays of the sun and the rain clouds both go by the same name, have been stolen by the powers of darkness, by the night and her manifold progeny. Gods and men are anxious for their return; but where are they to be found? They are hidden in dark and strong stable, or scattered along the ends of the sky, and the robbers will not restore them. At last in the farthest distance the first signs of the dawn appear. She peers about, and runs with lightning quickness, it may be like a hound after a scent across the darkness of the sky.’10 ‘Sarama is said to have pursued and recovered the cows, stolen by the Panis, a myth, which has been supposed to mean that Sarama is the same as Usa, the dawn and the cows represent the rays of the sun, carried away by night.’11 ‘That Sarama is some power of the Light and probably of the dawn is very clear.’12
However, independent of the metaphorical elements, there is the outright literal strand. Notice that there is nothing in the Rg Veda that suggests that the panis have stolen the cattle. All that we know is that the panis possess wealth in the form of cattle and Indra wants to have them. These may not necessarily have been stolen. Sarama is sent as a messenger and is tempted by the panis, who also taunt Indra. And the panis also refer to Sarama as a sister and offer her a share of their wealth. But this is an offer that Sarama refuses.
There is a further evolution of the myth in Jaiminiya Brahmana.13 In this version, the cows clearly belong to the gods and have been stolen by the panis. A messenger is sent to the panis to return the cows. But the first messenger is Suparna, the eagle. The panis manage to successfully bribe Suparna and Suparna returns, without any information about where the stolen cows are. Suparna has been offered curd by the panis, which he has accepted. When he returns without any information, the gods strangle him and Suparna vomits the curd. Having been unsuccessful with Suparna as a messenger, the gods next send Sarama. She crosses the Rasa river and meets the panis. The panis offer her bribes, but Sarama refuses. Sarama returns to Indra and tells him that the cows are hidden near the Rasa river. As a reward, Indra blesses Sarama.
In Jaiminiya Brahmana, Sarama is not a traitor. But she becomes a traitor in the subsequent evolution of the myth in Brhaddevata (8/24–36). Here is the gist.14
The later, explicit version of the tale states clearly the three central plot elements: the use of a woman to seduce or trick one’s enemies; the voyage, across water, to the other world, where one must not eat or drink; and the obtaining of the magic elixir. There were demons named Panis who lived on the other side of the Rasa.15 They carried away the cows of Indra and hid them carefully. Brhaspati saw this, and having seen it he told Indra. Then the chastiser of Paka16 sent Sarama there as a messenger. The Pani demons interrogated her with the hymn that begins ‘With what …’ [reference to Rg Veda 10/108] saying, ‘Where do you come from? Whose are you, fair one? And what is your business here?’ ‘I wander as the messenger of Indra,’ replied Sarama, ‘seeking you and the cow-pen and the cows of Indra, who is asking for them.’ When they learned that she was the messenger of Indra, the evil-minded demons said, ‘Sarama, do not go. Be our sister here. Let us divide the share of the cows. Do not be unfriendly again.’ Then with the last verse of this hymn, as well as with the alternate ones throughout, she said, ‘I do not desire sisterhood or wealth, but I would drink the milk of those cows which you are hiding.’ The demons agreed and brought the milk. She drank that demonic milk because of her nature and her inconstancy; the milk was excellent, charming, delightful, bringing strength and nourishment. Then she crossed back over the Rasa, which extended for a hundred leagues, on the farther bank of which was the Panis’ fort, which was hard to overcome. Then Indra asked Sarama, ‘Have you seen the cows?’ But she, because of the influence of the demonic milk, replied to Indra, ‘No.’ Furious, he struck her with his foot, and she vomited the milk. Then, trembling with fear, she went back to the Panis. And Indra followed the path of her footsteps, driving bay horses in his chariot; he went and killed the Panis and took back the cows.
Sarama is not only a traitor in the sense of lying, but she also becomes much more identified with the panis. The Varaha Purana also has this tradition of Sarama having been a traitor.
&n
bsp; About Sarama, William Radice writes, ‘Sarama is usually called the dog of heaven, though in the Rig Veda itself she is nowhere described as a dog. But a fixed belief developed later that she was a ‘divine bitch’: the mother of Syama and Sabala—the two brindled hounds of Yama, god of death—and ultimately of all dogs and bitches.’17 This is not quite true. That particular dialogue with the panis does not mention that Sarama is a dog. But other parts of the Rg Veda make it clear that she is a dog. And as we will see in a minute, only Shabala was brindled.
In the role of messenger, an obvious analogy has been drawn between Sarama and Hermes (the messenger of the gods or Zeus) and his son Pan. The roles may differ. But Hermes is the exact cognate of Sarama and the word Pan is also cognate to pani. Although there never is any direct identification of Hermes with a dog, Hermes was the honoured god of all shepherds, and shepherds have an association with dogs. Rather intriguingly, on the day that he was born, Hermes stole fifty cows (during the night) that belonged to Apollo and hid them in a cave on the banks of the river Alpheus. Hermes released these cows only when instructed to do so by Zeus. In Greek tradition, caves into which cows were herded during bad weather were also known as caves of Pan. Finally, Zeus owned a golden dog. This was stolen by Pandareus and recovered from the house of Tantalus by Hermes and Isis (a female messenger of the gods). The motifs of stealing, cows, dog, etc. resurface. Hermes also conducted the dead to Hades.
Indra has also been identified with Hercules. ‘But besides Kerberos, there is another dog conquered by Hercules and he (like Kerberos) is born of Typhaon and Echyhindra … The second dog is known by the name of Orthros, the exact copy, I believe, of the Vedic Vritra. That the Vedic Vritra should reappear in the shape of a dog need not surprise us … thus we discover in Hercules the victory of Orthros, a real Vritrahan.’18 Max Muller has also identified Sarama with Helen of Troy and the panis with Paris. ‘Paris is the Panis of the Veda who tempt, and Helen is the Vedic Sarama who resists the temptation in the Veda, but succumbs to it in Greek mythology.’19