History – Adi Shankar – {Ep.158}

In this episode, we’re talking about Adi Shankara. Some of you have requested to hear about this scholar from the 8th century. So Adi Shankar was a real historical character, but maybe the tales are a teeny bit exaggerated. And that includes a crocodile that was maybe part of an elaborate plot to help Adi Shankara retire early. And it includes a literal out of body experience kind of like the one Dr Strange would have had.

There’s no denying that Adi Shankara was a big shot in the world of philosophy and a thought leader of his time. So much so that some folks tried to stamp his name on their own works in a curious case of reverse plagiarism. But all that happened later, centuries after he eclipsed in popularity the man he defeated in debate.

But before we learn more about this great intellectual, I think I should distinguish between a couple of terms in this story. Brahman and Sanyasi and Brahmin. A Sanyasi is someone who has retired, basically. As we’ll soon find, the concept of FIRE – financial independence and retiring early is something that originated not in blogs on the internet for millennials, but actually in 8th century India. 

A Brahmin is assigned that by birth. Adi Shankara was born a Brahmin. I won’t call him just Adi or just Shankara but his full name. 

Adi Shankar’s parents Shivaguru and Aryamba were just a regular couple in a village in Kerala. Shivaguru held a 9 to 5 job, and Aryamba took care of the household. They were neither poor nor rich. But they were extremely pious, and lost no opportunity in giving donations to the truly poor and needy. The poor and needy saw their house as a jolly good place for a meal and there would often be queues of people jostling for handouts.

When Shivaguru and Aryamba announced that they were going to be going away to nearby Trichur, there was a near rebellion outside their gates. The people waiting in line grumbled at having to go back to their 9 to 5 jobs instead of these free handouts. But hey, at least Shivaguru and Aryamba promised to return in a couple of days.

Shivaguru and Aryamba prayed to the gods at the temple in Trichur. They had been good, hadn’t they? Could they have a child? More specifically a boy?

That should not surprise anyone. In the 8th century it would have been inconceivable 

Now something very unusual happened that night. Because it was about their dream, they did not realize that until the next morning. 

As they good morning-ed each other they were both surprisingly cheerful. That was not normal. The usual atmosphere here resembled a depressing Charles Dickens novel. The reason for their surprisingly good mood was that they both had a dream. In their dream Shiva himself had appeared and promised them something. Something they wanted more than anything else. A child. Actually. He had given them both an option. He had said Option A – they could have a hundred ordinary children, you know the kind who at best got a B grade in their exams. And these hundred children would live to be the average human life expectancy of 8th Century India. 

Or Option B was that they could have a single extraordinary child who would not live very long.

Shivaguru worried if there was a trick here. There are two sides to a bell curve. Did Shiva mean the child would be extraordinarily poor or extraordinarily good? But Shiva assured him that the extraordinary child would be extraordinary in a positive way.

Aryamba had wanted to know how long the extraordinary child would live. And in case Shiva had any doubts, she preemptively swore that she wasn’t planning to take out a conveniently timed life insurance policy on the child. But Shiva assured her that he didn’t have those doubts. The boy would live 8 years.

When Shivaguru and Aryamba compared notes, they concluded that yeah, 8 years was the blink of an eye. But they considered the child a gift from Shiva. And if you get a gift from a God, you jolly well aren’t going to refuse. And yes, they were certainly convinced that this was real. They hadn’t been just dreaming. Well, they had been dreaming true. But the fact that Shiva himself had appeared to each of them in their dreams with a nearly identical question meant that there was something more behind it than random chance.

Events proved them right.  The couple had a boy, and they named him Adi Shankar. 

I think it was the knowledge that the boy had very few years to live that prompted the parents to accelerate everything in Adi Shankar’s life.

So, at the age of four Adi Shankar could not only read and write but he could also understand the vedas, which are amongst the oldest Hindu scriptures. Had the Guiness Book of World Records existed in the time, Adi Shankar would have been on it. And he would have read it too, given his ability to quickly read through voluminous books.

Because Adi Shankar had such a detailed knowledge of these scriptures, he had no trouble in being accepted in boarding school. Yes, these boarding school teachers usually had a strict entry requirement. But in Adi Shankar’s case they were easily met.

Now you might ask why Adi Shankar’s parents were content to let their five year old boy off to Boarding School when they knew he had only 3 more years to live. Wouldn’t it make sense to homeschool him? Ideally, yes. But in the 8th century there was a strict monopoly on who could teach children and who could not. And rich parents didn’t qualify. The poor and destitute were different. No one cared how they were schooled.

If Adi Shankar was a prodigy at reading and writing, he turned out to be even smarter at school. Turned out his school was teaching the Vedas, which he already knew. So he discovered that technically he was homeschooled after all.

Well, when things are going well, it’s no wonder that in just three short years Adi Shankar graduated. And yes, he was eight years old at the time which will certainly leave you wondering if death’s blow was coming. It was indeed coming. But the first blow came not to Adi Shankar but to his father.

Adi Shankar was welcomed home not with tears of joy. His mother hugged him as she wailed. Ostensibly her tears were for her husband who had just passed away. But in reality she cried for her boy who would also be rudely snatched away from her.

It took a lot of assurance over many days and weeks from Adi Shankar before she was convinced that he wasn’t going anywhere. And that was the moment he brought up that he wanted to go away. 

“Go backpacking? See the world? That sort of thing before you settle into a job for good?” asked his mother cautiously.

“Actually that’s not all that there is to it” Adi Shankar admitted. “I want to become a Sanyasi”

This was more than Aryamba could bear! It wasn’t just that her boy wanted to retire. There’s some good sound reasoning behind becoming financially independent and retiring early. But a Sanyasi is so much more than just not having a job. Sanyasis have overcome all worldly temptations. They have no material attachments. It would have been easier on Aryamba if Adi Shankar had just wanted to see the world. But to give up on everything? And for what? When he didn’t even have long to live. She refused to give her permission. Adi Shankar accepted that quietly.

Every day he felt more and more trapped. He had to go away. But how could he? Who would help his poor old mum?

His friends tried to cheer him up. One of them suggested an elaborate plot. Scare your mom that your life is in danger, extract a promise from her about his future career, allow himself to be rescued, and Bob’s your uncle. What could go wrong?

Adi Shankar said he didn’t have an Uncle, certainly not one who would be willing to change his name to Bob. And in response to his friend’s other question of what could go wrong? Plenty! A lot of things could go wrong. And he didn’t want to scare his mother.

As it turned out she ended up being scared after all. Not surprising, given most days she was nervous, Adi Shankar would be turning 9 soon, or rather not turning 9 soon, according to Shiva. Everyday she dreaded that this was going to be the day that Adi Shankar died. 

And one day, as Aryamba was walking along the banks of a river, she saw something that made her heart sink.

She saw her boy swimming in the water and quickly catching up to him… was a Crocodile.

Even as she screamed, the Crocodile grabbed Adi Shankar’s leg. Adi Shankar sensed the end and asked his mom for permission to become a Sanyasi.

Aryamba was distressed that they were discussing his career choice now, in this situation. But it was his final wish, so she gave him permission to become a Sanyasi to renounce everything material.

The Crocodile promptly let go. Everyone was surprised, but I guess Crocodiles really are very picky about whom they eat. Brahmins sure were on the menu, but Sanyasis not so much.

And if you’re thinking that all this was an elaborate setup to get Aryamba’s permission, dismiss the thought. It was clear even to Aryamba that this was the path forward for her son. Now that she retrospected on Shiva’s words, she could see a different way of interpreting his words. Adi Shankar would not live long in their lifestyle.

So Adi Shankar, not yet 9 years old, retired and went off to see the world, and to help it. This wasn’t a touristy backpacking trip.

He picked up many followers along the way, got involved in many debates with other philosophers, convinced them of his line of thinking – which was that the wisdom of the world was in the Vedas and not all rituals were strictly necessary. That did not sit well with some philosophers. One of them was Mandana Mishra.

Adi Shankar and Manadana Mishra’s debate was a high stakes one. The loser would have to give up his philosophy and switch to the other.

But as this debate was about to start, Mandana Mishra’s wife Saraswati who was also the judge questioned Adi Shankar’s eligibility. How could he know how to debate against the non-Sanyasi or ritualistic life? He had never experienced being a householder. He didn’t have a wife or a family to care for.

That was actually a very valid point, thought Adi Shankar. He requested a timeout, and went off to a secluded cave. There, through a trick he had divined from his studies, his soul left his body. I don’t mean to say he died. His soul was just taking a vacation, let’s say. More appropriately, a study tour. It found a King in far away Bengal who had just then passed away. Adi Shankar’s soul entered the King’s body and to the King’s subjects and family it appeared as if the King had come back from the dead! Either that, or their doctors were really incompetent at telling if a person was dead or alive.

Adi Shankar took maximum advantage of the situation and learned everything there was to learn about being a householder, even a privileged householder. And that included taking care of an entire kingdom, not just his family, which consisted of several Queens and Princes and Princesses. Adi Shankar was careful to make mental notes, because his soul couldn’t bring back anything physical.

If his family and subjects sensed a personality change in their dearly departed and recently reappeared king, they did not show it.

When Adi Shankar had learned enough and when he felt that the blow would be easiest on his family and his subjects, his soul departed the King’s body leaving it lifeless.

Adi Shankar back in his own body now appeared again before Mandana Mishra and his wife and this time was fully prepared to debate. He answered any qualification questions easily enough.

And though Mandana Mishra’s wife was officially the judge, her role was only ceremonial. Adi Shankar and Mandana Mishra had garlands of flowers around their necks that were sensitive to the debate topics, if anyone lost a point a flower would wilt and fall off their garland. This is space age technology! And it was found in 8th century India. 

Well, no prizes for guessing who won the debate. If Mandana Mishra had won, I would have based this episode on him.

Anyway, despite everything, for a couple of centuries after this, Mandana Mishra was the more popular philosopher amongst the two. And it was only later after the 11th century that Adi Shankar climbed past his debate rival on the Medieval Indian Philosophers Weekly Billboard.

Adi Shankar did not live much longer, but passed on his teachings in every corner of the country. Over the course of his remaining life, he did a number of other things, like reversing the course of a river when it flooded some villages, helping to locate a famous idol that had somehow gotten misplaced, and convincing some bandits to change their ways.

That’s all for now

Some notes on the show

There are many other terms that are used, and they all have their own nuances – rishi, muni, sadhu, Brahman, and many others. I will clarify the distinction between all of those in the show notes at the end of the episode.

I do want to clarify that the terms have varied over time and they have also been used interchangeably. So the definitions you see here are not necessarily what you might find somewhere else. I have just tried to find the best fit.

A Rishi is someone who studies the Vedas and other scriptures

A Muni’s distinguishing feature is that they are free of emotions such as anger and animosity. That would rule out Durvasa and Vishwamitra both of whom we have encountered on this show before.

A Sadhu performs some daily spiritual practices, which could be specific to one or more rituals. Sort of like specialization

A Sanyasi as we saw is someone who has given up all material attachments

A Brahman is part of the caste system – they traditionally study the scriptures but are not required to. They can hold other white collar jobs.

A Grihastha is a householder. Someone who runs a family, files taxes at the end of the year and o on.

An Acharya is someone who passes on knowledge, someone who teaches.

A Sant is a saint. By action not by birth.

So I hope that clarifies the distinction between those terms. 

We’ll end it here today.

Next Time

In the next episode, we’ll do a story from the Panchatantra. It’s about a bag of gold coins that gets misplaced again. And again. And again. And again. You get the picture. If there’s one lesson that this comedy of errors teaches us, it is to not feed your gold coins to your goat!