The subject of today’s discussion is samása [compound words]. The word samasta is used extensively in Bengali. However in Bengali the meaning of the common Sanskrit-borrowed words samasta, sakala, samagra is not identical. It has been said:

Yadyapi bahunádhiise tathápi pat́ha puttra vyákarańam;
Svajanah svajano mábhút sakalaḿ shakalaḿ sakrt shakrt.

A language has many words which are pronounced practically the same but which have different meanings, and it also has words which have many different meanings. Then again, there are many words which differ slightly in spelling but greatly in meaning. If one is to learn how to use such words correctly one needs to study and acquire mastery in grammar. Otherwise one’s own mistakes will be passed on to others. Thus the aforementioned verse says: “O son [puttra], even though you have studied much, do study a little grammar.” Incidentally I would like to mention that puttra is not spelled putra. The people of those days imagined that there was a certain hell by the name of Put. It was their conception that if one’s son would do the ritual funeral offering then one would be saved from that hell. Adding the suffix d́a after the verbal root trae makes tra, that is, “that which rescues [trán kará]” or “one who saves”. Put + trae + d́a = puttra. In other words, since both the words put and trae have a ta, the spelling of the word putra must retain the two ta’s. Many people mistakenly spell the word putra. Similar is the case with gáyattrii (gae + shatr = gáyat + trae + d́a + the feminine iniip = gáyattrii). It is also spelled with two ta’s. The word páshcáttya also has to be spelled with two ta’s because the word is derived from pashcát + tyauṋ.

We were discussing the necessity of learning grammar. If one knows grammar it is beneficial both at home and everywhere else. The knowledge of grammar enables a person to take their place in the society at large and to maintain good social relations with their kith and kin [átmiiya-svajana]. Now let us have a look at the word svajana.

Svajana means “one’s own people”, “kinsman”, “relatives”, while shvajana means kukur [dog]; the related Sanskrit words are kukkura, sárameya.⁽¹⁾ Hence if anyone writes shvajana instead of svajana out of ignorance or carelessness then it is doubtful whether their good relations with their svajana will remain. Even feeding them coconut ladus [a type of sweet] will not put that sweet relationship right again.

The situation is similar with sakala and shakala. Kalena saha ityárthe “sakala”. Kala means “sprout”. Sakala means “that from which the sprout has emerged”, in other words, that which is manifest or expressed. Everything in this universe is a manifest entity. For example, in philosophy it is called sakala brahma, that is, manifest brahma. When unmanifest it is niśkala brahma or nirguńa brahma. But if the word is written with sha, that is, shakala, then its meaning becomes “piece” or “part”. For example, upalasakala refers to an entire pebble while upalashakala refers to a piece of a pebble. A simple little error like this turns the meaning of the word upside down. Sakrt means “once”, for example, sakrt kuru – “do it once”. Shakrt, however, means “feces”; its Vedic synonyms are uccára, mala, etc. The word soccára that even many educated people write or say nowadays to mean “vocal” is completely erroneous. The meaning of the word soccára is “one who has defecated but who has not yet cleaned themselves”.

It is a good idea, not only with Sanskrit and Bengali grammar, but also with the different foreign words used in Bengali, to know something about how to use them. Many people use the word vadan to mean “countenance”. I have seen in Bengali poetry: nishidin heri tava prasanna vadan [day and night I behold your pleasing countenance]. Does the word vadan come from the Sanskrit verbal root vad and the suffix anat́? No, not at all. If it had come from the Sanskrit verbal root vad then its use would have been limited to matters connected with the vocal apparatus, that is, limited to the tongue, soft palate, and lips. It certainly would not be used for the entire face. Actually the word is Farsi and its primary meaning is “countenance”, that is, primarily the entire face and secondarily the entire front side of the body. If I say in Urdu vadanpar cot́ lágii hae, then it does not mean that a blow has been struck only to the lips and tongue, nor to the brow, cheek, nose, lips. In this case it means that the entire body has been injured, especially the front side. Hence it would be better not to say nishidin heri tava prasanna vadan because the face, hands, feet, shoulder are not pleasing or unpleasing.

Now the meaning of sakala and samasta are not the same. The meaning of the word sakala has already been discussed and the meaning of the word samasta is “the united form of many”, what is called “collective body” in English. The substantive form of the adjective samasta is samása. Thus the meaning of the word samása becomes “the meaningful condensed form of a word cluster”. We can also call it a “compound word”. For example, the word “court” [rájasabhá] in Farsi is adálat or kachárii; these have become ádálat and káchári in Bengali. “Dancer” is narttaka. So if we want to say rájasabhár narttaka in English we would say “dancer of the court”. Instead of using so many words we can also condense it and say “court-dancer”. This saves time and effort and a new compound word has also been created. The compound word in this instance is formed by combining the first word “court” and the second word “dancer”. This kind of compound word is found in practically every language of the world but only in Sanskrit and its daughter languages has the compound word-dependent samása been extended grammatical acceptance. Although samása exists in other languages it has not been extended full acceptance.

The “of” that I have used in the phrase “dancer of the court” is an indeclinable. Both prepositions and conjunctions in English are indeclinables. “The” is the definite article. Now the definite article remains unchanged in the majority of the world’s languages but there are some exceptions. For example, in French the definite article le is used for masculine gender words while la is used for feminine gender words and les for the plural. So we see that in French the definite article changes according to the gender and number of the noun. For example, “an uncle” in French is un oncle. With elision it becomes unoncle. On the other hand, in Urdu it is ek cacá or ek cacii [an aunt]. Bear in mind that the word cacá is Urdu but the word kaká is Farsi. The pure Bengali word is khuŕá, khuŕi.

Anyhow, the compound word “court-dancer” is created by removing the indeclinable “of” and the definite article “the” from the phrase “dancer of the court”. The English “of” and the Bengali ra or er are signs that denote the sixth case. Now when an indeclinable or preposition is dropped in order to form a compound word it has to be seen which indeclinable or preposition is dropped and in which case it is used. Here the indeclinable “of” is dropped. “Of” is used in the possessive case and in Bengali ra and er are used in the sambandha káraka [genitive case], as marks signifying the sixth case-ending. Hence the compound word, or samása, which is formed by eliminating the sixth case is understood to be śaśt́hii [sixth] tatpuruśa samása. The samása that is formed by dropping the case-ending of the first word is called tatpuruśa samása. Thus the word “court-dancer” is considered to be śaśt́hii tatpuruśa samása. A similar word in English is “courtyard”. If we interpolate it we get “yard of the court”.

Similarly, “expert litterateur” signifies “expert in literature”. The English “in” is an indeclinable. In Bengali e, te and ete are used for “in”. These are signs which denote the seventh case. In other words, in the aforementioned example the compound word is formed by dropping the sign of the seventh case-ending – “in” or e. In other words, in Bengali we say sáhityanipuńa for the English “expert in literature”. Hence both “expert litterateur” as well as sáhityanipuńa are saptamii [seventh] tatpuruśa samása. So if any compound or collective word is interpolated in this way one gets the concerning samása.

Now the phrase which is created to interpolate the compound word is called the samásavákya or vyásavákya. We should know why the name vyásavákya is used. In olden times when the pandits were teaching their students they used to sit on blankets or seats spread out on a wooden cot. There was a small table in front of the students. The seat on which the pandits would sit to talk about samásavákya was called the vyásásana. And the samásavákya that used to be explained while sitting on that vyásásana was called the vyásavákya. This vyásavákya exists in all the world’s languages and so does samása. However it is only in Sanskrit and its daughter languages that samása has been given full grammatical acceptance, not in any other language.

English is also full of samása but samása has not been unambiguously accepted in English grammar. Had it been, English grammar would have been even more systematic. Due to samása meaning crystallizes and time is saved. It enriches language and increases its expressive power through the creation of a great number of new words. Hence, since samása is found in practically all the world’s developed languages, it should be given full grammatical acceptance. This denial of full acceptance to samása is a grammatical weakness. Nothing in a samásavákya or vyásavákya should be ambiguous. The more expressed the meaning is, the better. In this way one can easily determine which samása it is. If it is not, if a word in the samása remains implied, then it will be difficult to determine the samása. Take, for example, haḿsa-dimba [swan-egg]. This compound word is not haḿser [male swan’s] dimba but rather haḿsiir [female swan’s] dimba because male swans do not lay eggs. So one must say haḿsiir dimba. Similar is the case with chágadugdha [goat-milk]. Here also the samásavákya is chágiir dugdha, not cháger dugdha. Thus the meaning in a samásavákya must be clearly expressed – implying it will not do.

When a relationship is established between two words and one is a figurative form of the other then it is rúpaka karmadháraya samása. For example, bhasmabhúsańa [ash-ornament] means bhasmarúpa bhúśańa [decoration in the form of ash]. Of course this is madhyapadalopii [dropping the central word] karmadháraya, however since here bhasma [ash] is explained as a special form [rúpa] of decoration I have called it rúpaka karmadháraya. It would not be incorrect usage if it were called madhyapadalopii karmadháraya, however, since rúpaka karmadháraya is a part of madhyapadalopii karmadháraya. Teachers should acquaint their students with rúpaka karmadháraya and students should point out instances of rúpaka karmadháraya in their answer papers.

Another example in English is “mother-plant”, which becomes “plant serving as mother”. Here a special relationship has been established between “plant” and “mother” and a particular importance has been ascribed to “plant”. “Plant” has been given a specific role. Similarly, in Bengali if a relationship is established between mátá [mother] and taru [plant] and a samása is created – mátrrúpá taru – then a special role is ascribed to taru; that is, taru is considered to be a mother according to this special role. Since it takes a special form, that is, the form of a mother, its vyásavákya will be mátrrúpa taru, that is, rúpaka karmadháraya samása.

Taru in the role of mother does not imply respect or praise. We use the word nyáya or mata to establish a relationship of respect or praise. In such a case the samása no longer remains rúpaka karmadháraya. It becomes a different samása. Take, for example, rájasiḿha. Here a special relationship is established between the words rája [king] and siḿha [lion] but no specific role has been given to either word. In other words, rather than being rájá rúpa siḿha it is rájá siḿher mata or rájá siḿher nyáya [king like a lion]. Here a comparison is drawn between the two words and the samása produced by that comparison is upamita samása because the king has been compared [upamita] to a lion. We should point out here that while the word rúpa in rúpaka karmadháraya samása occurs in the middle of the vyásavákya, mata or nyáya in upamita karmadháraya can be either in the middle or at the end of the vyásavákya, although it is generally at the end.

When a comparison is drawn between two objects then generally the object compared is the first word and the object to which it is compared is the following word, for example, rájasiḿha. Here rája is positioned first and siḿha follows. Thus the samásavákya is rájá siḿher nyáya and it is upamita samása. However in the case of siḿhaváhu the object to which it is being compared is the first word, that is, the situation is reversed. A similar example is gajer gamaner nyáya gamana [movement like an elephant’s]. Here the gamana in the following position has been compared to the gamana [movement] of an elephant. Hence it is upamána samása. An English example is “crystal-clear”, that is, “as clear as crystal”. This is clearly a compound word and upamána samása.

In Bengali grammar there is a difference between tatpuruśa and upapada samása. Grhágata – the vyásavákya for this compound word is grhe ágata [arrived at home]. In this samása the seventh case-ending mark e has been dropped making it saptamii [seventh] tatpuruśa sumása. When an Englishman approaches England in a ship and recognizes its familiar climate and environment he knows it is his home-climate. The meaning of this “home-climate” is “climate of home”. It has been compounded into one word. The samása is formed by dropping the English indeclinable “of” so this is tatpuruśa samása, true enough. However, in the case of compounds where a specific person or thing is brought in to express the adjective of the tatpuruśa samása in a special way then it is called upapada samása. There the samásavákya uses the pronouns jini [he, she], je [that, one], járá [those], jah [which], for example, grhe esechen jini, tini grhágata [He who has arrived home is grhágata] – upapada samása.

Next comes bahuvriihi samása. The word briihi means “that in which is hidden the potential for an abundance of food”. Take paddy, for example. From paddy we get uncooked rice, cooked rice, puffed rice, beaten rice, khai [a variety of puffed rice], muŕki [parched rice coated with molasses], and so on. Thus another name for paddy is briihi (briihi → riihi → risi → ráis [rice]). The Modern English word “rice” comes from vriihi. The old Latin word riihi comes from vriihi, from riihi comes the derived word rici and from this the Modern English word “rice”. Hence the word bahuvriihi means “that which has a great expressive capacity”.

Let us say, for example, someone says bhasmabhúsańa [ash-decoration]. It can have many vyásavákya, for example, bhasmer mata bhúśańa, bhasma eman bhúśańa, bhasmarúpa bhúsańa, bhsamarúpa bhúśańa je tattve rayeche or bhasmabhúsańa yár. That is, a number of samása forms can be found in it. Their controlling samása is vahuvriihi. Now the words jáhár or játe (yasya or yasmina) are added to the end of the vyásavákya of all those compound words which allow the opportunity for composing more than one vyásavákya. The aforementioned example is one – bhasma bhúsańa jár. Another example of bahuvriihi samása is gajagaman. Someone says gajer mata gamana – upamána samása. Another person says gajer gamana, that is, śaśt́hii [sixth] tatpuruśa. Someone else will say gajarúpa gaman – rúpaka karmadháraya. And yet another will say gajer gamaner mata gaman jár. A proper analysis of the last phrase yields the real vyásavákya, that is, it is bahuvriihi samása.

Earlier I stated that first the vyásavákya has to be determined correctly in order to determine the samása. In other words, the meaning should not be left ambiguous and the actual form shall have to be manifested. Otherwise it will not be possible to determine the samása. Incidentally this reminds me of a story.

Once a lioness gave birth to four cubs in a London zoo (what we call ciŕiyákháná). When the news was submitted by the census officer to his boss for approval before giving it to the press for publication, it was written: “A lioness in one London zoo has given birth to four cubs.” The boss was displeased when he saw the news and said: “Why has the word London been retained? That can be to the advantage of the enemy.” So the news was edited to read: “In one zoo of one city in England a lioness has given birth to four cubs.” When he sent the revised report on to his boss, the boss said: “A zoo in England means the London zoo. That can be to the advantage of the enemy.” So it was rewritten “A lioness has given birth to four cubs in a zoo in a certain city in one country of the earth.” When the new report was sent to the boss he said: “The London zoo is the best in the world. It has no equal. So if you say ‘zoo’, it means the London Zoo.” So he revised the report to read: “A lioness has given birth to four cubs in a certain place in a certain city in a certain country of the world.” He in turn sent the news report to the top officer who said: “What, have you no brains at all! ‘Lion’ means a British lion. So if you say ‘lion’ it will give everything away.” So he corrected it: “A certain animal gave birth to four young in a certain place in a certain city in a certain country of the earth.” When the report reached the highest officer he said: “I haven’t been able to teach you or make you understand anything. Do you ever reveal the actual number! Under no circumstances whatsoever! You either increase it or decrease it or leave it implied, as it suits you.” So finally the news became: “A certain animal in a certain city in a certain country of the world gave birth to some young.”

As I have said, it is better not to imitate this kind of censorship. It does not provide the proper wherewithal [suráhá] for the determination of samása. Ah yes, this word suráhá is also not a native Indian word. The word su, which means “good”, is Sanskrit and the word ráhá, which means “road”, is Farsi. The two have been blended to make one.

Next comes dvigu samása. Dvigu samása is used for the “one” of a collectivity where a mixture of many gives rise to one. For example a collection of three strata is triloka. A collection of four Vedas is Caturveda. The coinciding of three ahas is tryahasparsha, and so on.⁽²⁾ It is obvious from the above examples that numerical words are mentioned in the vyásavákya of dvigu samása, such as “three strata”, “four Vedas”, “three ahas”, etc.

In some people’s opinion the words trilokiinátha, dvárikánátha, etc. are incorrect. They say that trilokii means triloker nátha, so why should we write nátha? Their argument cannot be completely brushed aside.⁽³⁾ But in my opinion we can save trilokiinátha and dvárikánátha on the strength of nitya samása. If trilokiinátha is taken to mean trilokii-I-nátha then in that case it can be considered correct in Sanskrit as nitya samása although it is incorrect in Bengali. Similar is the case with dváriká in the sense of dvárakár nátha. How can this then be again dvárikánáth? But it can in the case of niyta samása. For example, dvariká-i nátha in this sense is nitya samása. Here dvárikánátha is not dvigu samása but trilokiinátha is partially dvigu samása and partially nitya samása.

Bear in mind that Krśńa was Dvárakánátha, not Dvárikánátha, and that Náráyańa was Trilokanátha, not Trilokiinátha. As with the word anáthinii, one can try to make it forcibly stand up but it is better not to prop it up in this way.

Some samása are completely dependent on the indeclinable. For example, in English one says “from Cape Comorin to the Himalayas”. To say this in Bengali – samudra theke himácal paryanta [from the ocean to the Himalayas] – one says ásamudrahimácala – here both theke and paryanta are indeclinables. Ásamudrahimácala has been created with the help of these two indeclinables. The samása which is based on such indeclinables is called avyayiibháva samása. Kár-o beyádavii dekhe Rámbábur ágápáshtalá jvale ut́hla [On seeing anyone’s bad manners Mr. Ram would flare up]. Here the compound word ágápáshtalá is formed from a vyásavákya that depends on indeclinables, for example, ágá haite pásh haiyá talá paryanta [from the top of the head passing down to the soles of the feet]. Hence it is avyayiibháva samása. If we say figuratively ágá o pásh o talá then it is dvandva samása, of course, but by this Mr. Ram’s mood at that moment is not clear, so instead of dvandva samása it will be avyayiibháva samása. Still this is avyayiibháva samása for Bengali words. A similar non-compound expression is juto selái theke cańd́iipát́h [from sewing shoes to reading the Chandi]. If we wish we can say it as a compound word – ámáke juto selái-cańd́iipát́h karte hay. Here the phrase is not juto selái and cańd́iipáth. It is juto selai theke cańd́iipáth paryanta chot́a baŕa sab káj kare jete hay [all large and small work has to be done from the sewing of shoes to the reading of the Chandi].

Similarly, we use avyayiibháva samása in Sanskrit. For example, ápádamastaka, which means “from foot to head”, is also avyayiibháva. One thing has to be kept in mind if we are to determine avyayiibháva samása. Not all Sanskrit indeclinables are indeclinables in Bengali. These kinds of Sanskrit indeclinables (but non-indeclinables in Bengali) can be avyayiibháva in Sanskrit but not in Bengali, for example, prátarbhramańa [morning-journey]. In Sanskrit this is avyayiibháva but in Bengali it is śaśt́hii tatpuruśa and madhyapadalopii karmadháraya. The phrase práter bhramań is śaśt́hii tatpuruśa and the phrase prátahkáliin bhramań is madhyapadalopii karmadháraya. The word prátah [early morning] is an indeclinable in Sanskrit. It does not take any case-ending so it cannot be tatpuruśa in Sanskrit. In Sanskrit it is avyayiibháva or madhyapadalopii karmadháraya while in Bengali it is śaśt́hii tatpurśa or madhyapadalopii karmadháraya, not avyayiibháva. Prátah means the same thing in Bengali as it does in Sanskrit, but while it is an indeclinable in Sanskrit it is a non-indeclinable in Bengali.

A Sanskrit synonym for prátah is kalyam, that is, the early morning of the next day – not the entire day. It is from sunrise until forty-five minutes afterwards – pratyuśe bhavet kalyam. The proper Bengali synonyms for kalyam are bhor, vihán, etc. The Sanskrit for what we call kál in Bengali – “tomorrow in English” – is shvah (the word shvah also means “dog”). The “day-after-tomorrow” in Sanskrit is parashva (parshu in Bengali). Some people take a fancy to writing parshu parsu. No, it cannot be spelled with su, only with shu. Those who fancy it should restrain their fancy. This kind of whimsical use of spelling upsets languages.

In English when two events take place in the past then the first becomes past perfect and the second becomes past indicative. Take, for example, “the doctor arrived” and “the patient died”. Now if the death of the patient happened before the arrival of the doctor then in English one says: “The patient had died before the doctor arrived.” Similarly, in Sanskrit if two actions of a particular entity take place serially then the adjective for the first is placed first and the adjective for the second follows. The samása that is created in this way is called supsupeti samása, for example, agre supta pashcát utthita (agre supta pashcádutthitah). This supsupeti samása is classified under karmadháraya.

Now let us come to the subject of dvandva samása. Dvandva is a collective of two or more unequal words. When these two or more words are placed side by side one of them changes. There is no need to use the Sanskrit conjunctions o, ka, or ca. A new compound word is created, for example, giri and sindhu. By putting these two dissimilar words together a compound word is created – girisindhu. One thing to bear in mind here is that many people often use the word evaḿ instead of the conjunction o [and]. However evaḿ does not mean o, nor is evaḿ a Bengali word. It is a Sanskrit word which means “in this way”. For example, evaḿ kuru means “do it like this”. Hence evaḿ will not work in place of o in the vyásavákya of dvandva samása. In the spoken Bengali of the village areas the word ár is used, not evaḿ, for example, baomá, cál ár d́ál niye eso [daughter-in-law, bring rice and d́ál]. No one says Baomá cál evaḿ d́ál niye eso.

One speciality of dvandva samása is that if two proper nouns ending in a are put together then the ending of the first word of the compound word changes to ii, for example, kusha and lava = kushiilava. In ancient India it was the practice in Sanskrit drama that two small boys would come on stage and one would announce the names of the characters in the drama while the other would announce [ghośańa] the names of the actors and actresses playing them.⁽⁴⁾ Those who used to make the announcements were called kushiilava. Lava was an historical figure. The renowned modern-day city of Lahore bears witness to the historical name of this person. The city named after Lava is Lavapura → Láhor.

At the end of the drama two young girls dressed up as yavanas would come onstage to announce the end of the drama.⁽⁵⁾ The phrase yavaniká patan [curtain-fall between acts or at the end] comes from this word. A great snow [him], that is, snowfall extending a great distance, is called himánii. A great forest [arańya], that is, a forest that extends a great distance, we would call arańyánii. But we would not call a great yavana a yavanánii. The script with which the yavanas write is called Yavanánii. However, bear in mind that a great vana [forest] is not called vanánii. There is no such word as vanánii. If any gentleman or woman names their daughter Vanánii, tell them that. It is up to them whether or not they listen to you.

A couple of similar words are ketakii and vipáshá. Actually these two words were neuter gender in very ancient times. So even though there is a flower named ketakii and a river named “Vipáshá” girls should not be given this name. This was the instruction of the ancient authors of the scriptures. People have forgotten the history of these words so some people may still be naming their daughters Ketakii and Vipáshá.

The word savitá is a masculine gender word which means “father”. Its feminine form is savitrii – sávitrii in the causative. The earth has taken birth from the sun so the sun is also the father of the earth. This masculine gender word should not be used as a girl’s name, although I am acquainted with some young women by the name of Savitá. If they knew the real meaning of “Savitá” they might feel somewhat embarrassed.

The juxtaposition of two words with meanings of a different nature is dvandva samása. But when two or more words with the same meaning are put together then it is nitya samása, for example, ashru i jal = ashrujal [tear/water], lajjá i sharam [shame/modesty], náca i duyár = nácaduyár [dance], Similarly, cáś-ábád [cultivation/tillage], ádab-káydá [good manners, etiquette], etc.

I remember an interesting story from the Rámáyańa concerning nitya samása. The Rámáyańa, by the way, is not a true account. It can be called either a book of verse or a puráńa [mythological story]. Vákyaḿ rasátmakaḿ kávyam. If a story is narrated in a lucid style then it is called kávya. And if a story is not true but contains educational value then it is called a puráńa, regardless of whether or not it has kávyik qualities. The Rámáyańa has kávya quality as well as educational value so the Rámáyańa is both kávya and puráńa. However it is not itikathá or itihása because itikathá (its English synonym is “history”; its French synonym is histoire) is a chronicle of actual events. That portion of itikathá that contains educational value is called itihása. Itihása has no English or French synonym.

Dharmárthakámamokśárthaḿ niitivákyasamamvitam;
Purávrttakatháyuktamitihásah pracakśyate.

[Itihása refers to the treatises which impart lessons on dharma (psycho-spiritual longings), artha (psychic longings), káma (physical longings), and mokśa (spiritual longings), which are replete with moral stories, which are full of past events and anecdotes, and so on.]

As the story goes, when Ram was completely unable to defeat the powerful Ravana, who had Shiva’s power, during their fierce battle, he performed a worship of Shiva in the hopes of pleasing him. In the mantra of obeisance at the end of the worship Ram used the name Rámeshvára for Shiva. He said: Tvaḿ Rámasya iishvarah ityárthe Rámeshvarah – (śaśt́hii tat) [You are Ram’s Lord; in that sense you are Rámeshvara]. Shiva objected strongly to this and said: “Rámasya iishvarah iti Rámeshvarah – I don’t accept this. Rámah yasya iishvarah sah Rámeshvarah” – (bahuvriihi samása). That is, Ram is Rámeshvara to those for whom he is Lord. In other words, “I think of Ram as my Lord.” Ram said: “How can I be Shiva’s Lord?” This set off a verbal dispute between the two. Probably the sound of weapons also started ringing out, one with the bow and arrow and the other with the trident. The sea-girt earth trembled. Groups of men and bears and monkeys started shaking violently out of fear. Everyone became afraid and wondered: “What is going on, what is going on! What cataclysm has befallen us!” With folded palms they entreated them: “You are both great souls. We don’t want there to be a war between you.” The two of them said: “We are also keen to avoid war. Tell us what samása it will be and everything will be finished.” Then they all replied in one voice: “What need is there for a quarrel over who is whose Lord? Rámaeva iishvarah iti Rámeshvarah – nitya samása (Ram is the Lord, in this sense Rámeshvara – nitya samása).” Everyone accepted that Ram was God. It is best not to debate over who is whose Lord. This is nitya samása.

Footnotes

(1) In the Puranic imagination there is a hell where the god of death, Yamaraj’s gate is guarded by sentries. Chief among them is a female dog whose name is Saramá. The word sárameya is derived by adding the suffix śńeya in apatyártha to the root word saramá in tadhitártha; it means “progeny of Saramá” or “progeny of a female dog”. Be careful that no one names their daughter “Saramá”. Of course Vibhiiśańa’s wife in the Rámáyańa was named Saramá but that Saramá was not human. She was a female demon.

(2) When some portion of three different lunar days fall within the course of one solar day. –Trans.

(3) Incidentally, when someone injudiciously says something erroneous we often say lokt́á bekáydáy paŕe bebhul bakche [The fellow has gotten himself into an inconvenient position and is prattling on]. In this case the word bebhul is incorrect. However if someone says bebhul it is okay.

(4) Many people use the word ullekha to mean ghośańa. Bear in mind, ut + lekha = ullekha, that is, informing about what is written. If it is oral then the word ullekha is not used.

(5) Yavana means “foreign” – those who do not follow the Indo-Aryan culture. This is not an insult. Male yavanas are called yavana and their wives are called yavanii. Their daughters are yavaniká or yavaná and their written script is called Yavanánii – yavanánáḿ lipih ityárthe yavanánii [yavanánii means “the script of the yavanas”].