Vaali’s boon – A perspective through Budo

Image 1Vaali defeats Raavana

Clarification – In this article I am referring to the great Vaanara king Vaali, who is the brother of Sugreeva. It is the Vaali who is seen in the Ramayana and is killed by Rama. I am not referring to Bali, who can also be called Bali Chakravarthy, who is the grandson of Prahlad. This Bali is the person who interacts with the Vaamana Avataara of Lord Vishnu and is a great Asura king who is celebrated in the festivals of Bali Paadyami and Onam. I am explaining this since I have seen some people refer to Vaali, the brother of Sugreeva as Bali and in some television serials as Mahabali Bali. This is just a different pronunciation of Vaali, which is pronounced as Baali but written as Bali. Of course, Vaali is also written as Vali sometimes. It is assumed that the person reading the name knows that “Va” has to be pronounced as “Vaa” or “Ba” as “Baa”. But some people might not realize this and hence this clarification. Just another point here, Bali Chakravarthy is Bali, but Mahabali Bali is actually Mahabali Baali.

Vaanara king Vaali, elder brother of Sugreeva was an incredible warrior and martial artist. The very best! He had defeated in single combat three extraordinary opponents which give testament to this fact. The first and foremost of these was Ravana, who was as great a warrior as one could think of. Vaali defeated him in a manner so nonchalant and effortless that it boggles the mind.

We need to remember that Vaali was a Vaanara and therefore had a tail. Like at least some Vaanaras, he had a prehensile tail, which he could move as he preferred and use as a weapon by itself. Raavana apparently attacked Vaali with stealth, from behind, when the latter was busy in performing the Sandhavandana*. Raavana grabbed Vaali’s tail as the initiation of the attack. Vaali used his tail to fend off and defeat Raavana, while never deviating from the performance of the Sandhyavandana. Raavana was left bound and helpless by the time Vaali had finished the Sandhyavandana. Sandhyavandana is still performed by many to this day and even when performed to its fullest extent, does not take very long. Also, it is mentioned that Vaali did not realize what he had done with his tail until Raavana begged for help when Vaali had completed the Sandhyavandana. Thus, Vaali not only defeated Raavana effortlessly, he did it in a manner most humiliating and in short order. Raavana, thus defeated, sought his friendship and gained the same.

Vaali also fought and defeated a shapeshifting Asura called Dundubhi. Dundubhi was an incredible warrior and challenged all known great warriors to prove his own superiority. Dundubhi was a brother-in-law of Raavana. Dundubhi challenged Vaali to a duel when he heard of the prowess of the latter. In the great fight that ensued, when he realized that Vaali was more than a match for him, he turned himself into a massive buffalo to continue the fight. Any experienced martial artist will generally agree that martial skills are designed to fight against fellow humans, and the same skills will not work against other animals with different body types. A normal buffalo is much larger than a human and fighting one is a daunting thought. So, fighting a buffalo many times larger than a normal one would be exponentially harder. Of course, Vaali was a Vaanara and had a tail, so his skills would be different, but the task would be difficult nevertheless. Vaali of course, prevailed. If the Ramayana TV series from the 80s is to be believed, Vaali fought the gigantic buffalo unarmed, which makes the feat even more astonishing. He even hurled the massive buffalo carcass quite some distance with just his strength. The skeleton of the giant buffalo is later used as a test of Rama by Sugreeva.

The third famous duel of Vaali’s is with Maayaavi, another extraordinarily powerful Asura who challenged him to a fight. Maayaavi was a brother of Dundubhi’s. The fight between Vaali and Maayaavi eventually moved to cave where Sugreeva stood guard at the entrance. The fight between the two lasted a year before Vaali prevailed. There are other aspects of this story that are not relevant for this discussion and hence I am leaving those out.

Image 2Sugreeva guarding the cave where Vaali and Maayaavi are fighting

One of the reasons Vaali was impossible to defeat in combat was a boon that he had. He had a boon from Indra which resulted in his gaining half the strength of anyone he is fighting. Sometimes it is said that he had a pendant gifted to him by Indra, the wearing of which resulted in same. So, the boon was the pendant. Either way, Vaali’s strength would increase while that of the opponent would decrease by half. So, apart from being a phenomenal warrior, Vaali also ensured that the opponent was diminished just by dint of being his opponent. The boon and his own skills pretty much made him invincible.

Now, there are a few points to consider here. Does, “half of the opponent’s strength” mean just physical strength or does it mean half of the skills? I do not know. Also, what constitutes a fight and what makes one an opponent? Does one have to be actually fighting Vaali for the boon to take effect? Or does just having ill intent towards Vaali result in the boon diminishing one’s strength/abilities?

If just having ill intent towards Vaali results in the opponent being diminished, then were Rama’s abilities as an archer diminished when he decided to shoot at Vaali from hiding? Is that why he could not distinguish between Vaali & Sugreeva in their first duel? Is that why Sugreeva needed to wear a distinguishing garland to identify himself during the second duel? And was Rama’s eyesight diminished due to the boon or was it just the distance and resemblance of the brothers? If all this was happening, were the two tests set by Sugreeva that Rama passed, sufficient in the first place? Or were the two tests specifically designed by Sugreeva, who knew of Vaali’s boon, to check if Rama operating at fifty percent would be able to strike the target (Vaali). I do not have the answers to any of these questions.

Next, when we consider the duel with Raavana, was Raavana an opponent just by having ill will towards Vaali? After all, he initiated the attack and with stealth, from behind. Vaali defeated him without even realizing he was in a fight! How cool is that! Based on this encounter, it does seem that Vaali does not need to be in an active fight for the boon to take effect. Any person, who puts to action a thought to cause harm to Vaali seems to be deemed to be an opponent and the boon diminishes that person while enhancing Vaali.

An aside here, this encounter gives a great opportunity to discuss Vaali’s Sakkijutsu (intuitive abilities) and perhaps as a consequence of that, his Nanigunaku Sanigunaku (natural nonchalance). Was Vaali’s enhancement by half of Raavan’s stealth (a skill by itself) his intuitive ability to sense an attack? And hence was his enhancement the ability to start a fight without his opponent realizing that it had already started (a stealth attack met with a stealthy defensive offence)? After all, if he could not know a fight was occurring, how could any opponent sense the same (Sakkijutsu of the opponent nullified)?!

Now, let us consider the fight with Maayaavi. Maayaavi supposedly ran to hide in a cave when he knew he was outmatched. But Vaali pursued him to finish him off. In this situation, if the opponent has decided to escape and thus end the fight, he is no longer an opponent right? If yes, does his diminished skill and strength return to its full potential? And does that mean Vaali’s ability to tap into this resource from the opponent also cease? Or is that added to Vaali’s own skill set for good? If yes, is Vaali potentially going to improve forever, with every fight? And can his opponents of the past, if they survive, ever go back to their full strength? And if they do, does the siphoning off due to the boon not be in effect anymore? The answer to the last question seems to be that it does not, for Raavana, was still as great and dangerous a warrior as ever.

Also, the fight between Maayaavi and Vaali lasted a year in the cave. This does seem strange, considering Maayaavi was running for his life (not a strategic retreat) according to the story. Vaali had defeated the other opponents in far shorter times. So, did it take Vaali a year to defeat an opponent who was already defeated, a year, because that Asura was not really an opponent anymore? And since he was hiding and trying to avoid a fight, was his ability not diminished anymore and therefore Vaali not enhanced any further? I would say that it definitely seems so. For trying to find a person in hiding and who is only going to fight to survive, mostly to get away is far harder than one on the attack, simply because the opponent’s movement no longer offer openings to exploit. Add to this the fact that Vaali is no longer enhanced and the opponent diminished, it would take a lot longer. So, no wonder this fight took so much longer, for Vaali as not hunting, not fighting.

In conclusion of the discussion about Vaali’s boon, it does seem that the intent of the other person towards Vaali is what triggers it. If one has malicious intent towards Vaali, the boon takes effect, if one does not, the boon not get triggered either.

Another aside here. If having no ill intent towards Vaali was the key to nullifying his boon, was Ahimsa the answer? Not the “non-violence” Ahimsa, but Ahimsa from a martial perspective. Here Ahimsa is not about not doing violence, it is about not looking to do violence. A link to my article about Ahimsa from a martial perspective is seen below**. Rama was looking to punish Vaali for stealing his brother’s wife, not trying to pick a fight with him or to hurt him otherwise. So, if he was trying to punish Vaali, does it mean he was trying to right a wrong? Was this why he was able to succeed despite the boon? Or did the boon not take effect as Rama’s intent was not to hurt Vaali but to protect Sugreeva? Or is all this just semantics on my part? Perhaps it will be explored at some future time.

In the Bujinkan, we learn three concepts that go hand in hand. These are, “Toatejutsu”, “Shinenjutsu” and “Fudo Kana Shibari”. These are detailed below.

Toatejutsu means striking from a distance. It does not necessarily mean something like shooting with a gun, but it could. It refers to the fact that one could affect the opponent before being in the striking range of the weapon on hand, irrespective of what that is.

Shinenjutsu means capturing or maybe affecting the opponents’ spirit, or the will to fight. This is not about magic, it is about being in a position or situation where an attack would leave an opponent vulnerable, making the attack not worth the attempt.

Fudo Kana Shibari means to hold the opponent in an immovable (unshakable) iron grip. This again is not necessarily about physical immobility though it could be that. It refers to leaving an opponent unable to decide what to do and how to move.

When taken together, the three concepts would mean something like “Strike from a distance at your opponent and capture her or his spirit in an unshakable iron grip”. In more mundane terms, it could mean “Leave your opponent incapable of deciding what to do by affecting her or his will to fight even before starting the fight from the expected physical distance”.

If the above situation can be created vis-à-vis the opponent, the result is that the opponent is left wondering when to attack and how to attack, and even more importantly, if there is an option to attack at all. The risk an opponent opens herself or himself to due to an attack seems great and causes hesitation in the opponent. Once this happens, the opponent can no longer have any momentum or flow in the attack and cannot press home any advantage with an initial attack. This leaves the opponent thinking about the fight as much as he or she can actually fight. Thus, the fighting ability is effectively limited and this is what can be said to be the diminishing of an opponent. Whether the diminishing is by half the ability, is up to interpretation. If we can say that the opponent has to think twice about every move, instead of moving with no need to think too much, we could say the diminishing of the opponent is by half as thinking twice means half the number of attacks. 🙂 But I indulge in semantics here, everyone can make up their own mind about this.

The words above might seem like a great solution in a fight, but are these concepts practical in a real fight, where there are no rules and the end result might be death? I will explore this with a look at a few more concepts described below.

There is a concept called “Kurai Dori” that is taught in the Bujinkan system of martial arts. It translates roughly to “strategic positioning”. It means, in response to any attack, find a position in space that, when taken, minimizes risk to oneself and makes any further attack difficult, if not impossible. In other words, when attacked, find a place where you are safe and attacking is either difficult or risky for the opponent. This is not to say that it is a finishing move. This concept is dynamic and one has to apply it continuously in any conflict situation to stay alive and over time mitigate the attack sufficiently. The individual techniques applied can be anything, but after kurai dori is achieved. Conversely, the techniques applied can be to achieve kurai dori as well.

Next, there something we are taught called “Cut Space”. It is about cutting empty space around the opponent, which is meant to discourage the opponent from making an attack. It might also force an opponent to move away from the current position, ceding more space for one to maneuver in. This concept is also applied to distract the opponent, by cutting in a space which was not an intended attack, but once the opponent’s attention is taken to the space where the cut/attack occurred, another opening might open up, which can be exploited to the detriment of the opponent. A variant of this concept can be “Put something in space” in order to deter the opponent from an attack. An example of this from the last few hundred years would be use of land and sea mines. These cause the opponents to rethink attack routes and gains times for the defender, and allows troops to be used elsewhere.

The third important concept relevant to this discussion comes from a statement that I once heard from Nagato Sensei, one of the most senior most practitioners and teachers of the Bujinkan system. He said, the concept of “Sakkijutsu” is the beginning of the Bujinkan system of martial arts. Of course, Sakkijutsu is something a student learns and comes to express after many years of training. But it is said that, only once a student can realize that she or he can express Sakkijutsu is that person a true student of the Bujinkan, and ready to explore greater details of this system of movement/fighting. Sakkijustsu refers to the ability to intuitively realize the threat that is present and how it might be manifest. Of course, this is not magic, it is a combination of lots of training hours, life experience and mindfulness/awareness of the surroundings.

Lastly, Bujinkan practitioners, are made aware over time, that in a real conflict situation, survival is vastly more important than victory. This realized, every movement is geared towards kurai dori explained earlier, but in survival mode. One only takes an opening against an opponent if he or she is fully protected. Self-protection is key. The learning of this concept is to not have any motivation towards victory, but to use kurai dori to stay protected at all times, until a safe opening to exploit, presents itself. The opening once exploited against the opponent might lead to victory, but more likely to the mitigation of the attack by the opponent.

To put the above four concepts together, consider mastering the following situation. One intuitively realizes the attack originating from the opponent (sakkijutsu) and cuts the space where it would happen. The opponent, being denied that space for the attack has to reconsider her or his moves. This moment of hesitation allows the defender to move to a safer position, applying the principle of kurai dori. This rigmarole, as experienced from the opponent, if it continues, might eventually lead to the opponent withdrawing or leaving an opening in a desperate attack (of course the defender might give out as well). The withdrawal or desperation is a consequence of having to rethink moves constantly, never being able to achieve any flow or momentum in the attack. This constant reconsideration is fatiguing to both mind and body, and leads to the diminishing of the opponent, as described earlier. On the other side, the defender, is moving at every instant towards a satisfactory outcome due to the diminishing of the opponent, and this is an enhancement of the same.

In simpler terms, all the above concepts together make the opponent uncertain of the attack and their own ability to pull it off. This creation of doubt diminishes the opponent. When one does not commit to an attack and remains nonchalant about the conflict, triggering a response to a fake movement has a greater probability of creating an opening to subdue the opponent. It also can, with sufficient maneuvering make them attack in a way that creates an opening that can be exploited. This ability to create openings in the opponent enhances one’s ability to survive and end a fight. If done correctly and for long enough, the opponent might just retreat and end the fight. This then is how to diminish an opponent while enhancing oneself (if only to survive and not necessarily to win). It cannot be said if the opponent is diminished by 50% and the other side is enhanced by the same 50%, but the idea of diminishing the other while enhancing oneself holds true.

So, a practitioner of the martial arts, with many years of experience, has access to concepts and practices which allow a replication of abilities that could mirror the boon that made Vaali impossible to defeat. I hope with the above few paragraphs I have shown the same. Considering that the Bujinkan system is a real & extant martial art, the Bujinkan system, practiced by several thousand students on a daily basis, all over the world, I hope at least a few might agree. 🙂

A few final thoughts about this exposition. If Vaali had the ability to make opponents uncertain and think a lot, and was so proficient at this that his ability came to be deemed a boon, Vaali is even more awesome than originally observed! Does the creation of the idea of a boon mean he was the only one at his time who had this ability? Or was it he who was most proficient and his expression of this seemed to be above and beyond what anyone else from that era could manage? I have no answers, just the questions.

Additionally, if the possession of the boon was indeed a story, was it cleverly used as disinformation to put people off from picking a fight with Vaali? After all, the boon was supposed to be from Indra himself. Was Vaali’s skill so out of this world that it had to originate with not just a Deva but with the King of the Devas? Vaali is also mentioned as the son of Indra (divine or spiritual son, not biological), so it all works together brilliantly in reputation development and hence in conflict management (creating an aura of invincibility to deter opponents).

Lastly, sometimes the boon is mentioned to be in effect only when Vaali wore a pendant granted by Indra. Was this a clever disinformation tactic as well? If an opponent believes in the boon and still chooses a fight, if Vaali turns up without the pendant, does that make the opponent overconfident and therefore let down her or his guard? Is the pendant theory a clever bait? Again, this is a question I have no answer to.

However one looks at the Boon possessed by Vaali, it is a wonderful opportunity to observe a large number of martial concepts/practices and how the same could have always been attempted and applied by humans over millennia.

Notes:

*A ritual performed thrice a day (but mostly once and in most cases, not at all these days) as a salutation to the Sun. It has other aspects included and need not ONLY be a salutation to the sun.

**https://mundanebudo.com/2022/10/13/ahimsa-and-the-martial-arts-part-1/

Image 1 above is from the Amar Chitra Katha comic “Ravana Humbled”

Image 2 above is from the Amar Chitra Katha comic “Veera Hanuman” (Kannada version)

Jibun No Kesu – An Exploration

There is one concept that is oft mentioned in a Budo class over the last few years. This is perhaps since focus on the essence of Muto Dori was started by Hatsumi Sensei, some seven or eight years ago. This is “Jibun no Kesu”. From what I understand, it means “throw yourself away” or “kill yourself” or “drop yourself”.

This obviously refers to dealing with the self in a combat situation. Of course, this also holds true in any conflict management situation. The concept tells anyone involved in combat to let go of one’s self. This is generally taken to refer to one’s ego. But that definition, while absolutely true, might be a bit simplistic.

The ego part is about not letting anything except the situation in the fight affect oneself. Worry about a plan that might not be going as expected, elation at a plan that is working exactly as or better than expected, thoughts about the outcome of the fight, consequences of victory or defeat, thoughts about reputation after the fight, planning for activities as a consequence of a fight; all of these could be attributed to the ego affecting the fight. Thoughts regarding all of these and maybe more, affect how completely a fighter is in the moment in a fight. It reflects on how well, or not, one can respond to and act towards an existing opportunity or threat; it might even affect being able to identify an opportunity or threat.

The other part of “Jibun no kesu”, could be regarding the physical body itself. While there is no real distinction between the body and the ego – they are the same – they can be discussed separately for learning purposes, like two subsystems of a whole. The ego is more the mental / emotional / intellectual / spiritual component which is not tangible. The physical body is tangible and more like the sensor package of a machine while also partially behaving as the mental component when it comes to reflex actions.

All the perceptions in a fight are from the physical body which houses the five (maybe six – intuition) senses. This also includes the feedback from joints, which can perceive the resistance to a fist strike, a sword cut or a spear thrust. This helps calibrate the flow into the next movement and the next and the next. The physical body also determines the possibilities of action and the limitation of what can be done despite available opportunities. Examples of this are strength in a strike, flexibility of joints, reach available to limbs and the like.

“Jibun no kesu” says both the ego and the physical body must be dropped. This is, in my understanding, an opening into the concepts of “not fighting the opponent”, “not doing anything the opponent does not want to do” and the world famous idea of “using the opponent’s strength against him/her”. These are not concepts I will attempt to explore here as such, for “Jibun no kesu” is proving to be a handful by itself. That said, these concepts and “Jibun no kesu” might seem counter intuitive, for if there is no physical body, how is the opponent to be dealt with? Or if there is no ego, is there a need for conflict management at all?

The nature of the contradiction mentioned above is partly the answer as well. If a lack of ego can lead to a lack of conflict, wouldn’t that be great? And if there is no need to deal with an opponent, is there an opponent at all? And thus, is there no conflict either? And if that is the way to deal with a conflict, isn’t that awesome? No effort, but conflict gone! It is like opponent comes to fight a rock, but realizes there is no need to and goes away. Perhaps, one can learn to be a rock for a duration of a conflict and revert to being human? Does this work?

The answer to the above question is twofold. On the mats, while training a martial art, the answer is a yes. It is not something that can be explained or taught. But is something than can be learnt and definitely experienced. The experience is mostly personal, but quite often is sensed by the opponent and fellow trainees around the person experiencing “Jibun no kesu”.

The answer to the question off the mats, in real life, which might involve conflicts not involving a physical fight, is maybe, and many a time, no. This is because, the definition of a conflict, where a conflict begins and ends and who is an opponent are not clear. What is a threat and what is an opportunity are also hazy in outline. And if the conflict is with people one cares about or at least does not wish to actively harm, all of this is magnified manifold.

With this longwinded introduction, let me get into some examples of what I perceive as examples of “Jibun no kesu” from stories (perhaps history) of Hindu culture. This perhaps adds to the answers or leads to interesting and revelatory questions.

All of us Indians have heard of severe Tapasya being performed by several individuals in stories from our Itihaasa and Puranas (Tapasya is sometimes translated as “penance” in English, but this is simplistic in my opinion and hence I shall not use this translation and stick to the original word). The reason for the Tapasya (sometimes called Tapas) is varied, as are the Gods they perform Tapasya towards. Most popularly, individuals perform Tapasya to please either Brahma or Shiva, in order to request boons that will enhance personal abilities of said individual that helps him/her achieve great personal power and glory. Examples of this would be Hiranyakashipu, Ravana, Rakthabeeja, Bhasmasura and other Asuras who wanted personal power enhancement and also revenge.

Hiranyakashipu loses himself in meditation & plants and anthills grow over him

Image credit – “Prahlad” published by Amar Chitra Katha

There are of course several Sages who not only perform yajnas but spend time in meditation and Tapasya (the two could be the same or different, for Tapasya can also be effort towards an objective) to understand the Universe and in turn achieve abilities that can be extraordinary as a consequence. Examples here would be the many great Sages/Rishis can curse commoners (Agastya cursing Nahusha), Devas (Durvasa cursing Indra) and even the Trimurthy (Bhrgu cursing all three of the Trimurthy) to great effect due to their abilities gained as a result of Tapasya, though the purpose of their Tapasya was never to be able to curse or grant boons to great effect. Examples of boons granted by Rishis would include Durvasa granting Kunti the ability to request children from the Devas and Parashara making the stench of fish disappear from Satyavati. Another interesting case here would be Gandhari, who, due to giving up her vision and being a devotee of Shiva, could turn the body of her son Duryodhana impregnable the one time she decided to use her sight, though this was never the purpose of either her sacrifice or her devotion respectively.

Maharishi Agastya curses Nahusha

Image credit – “Nahusha” published by Amar Chitra Katha

The person performing Tapasya, called a Tapasvi, can be a man or a woman and the motivation for Tapasya can also be revenge (Amba gaining the ability to reincarnate to avenge herself against Bheeshma) or simply personal help in a given situation (Satyavati remembering Veda Vyasa or Draupadi praying to Krishna during the game of dice) or consultation to address a problem (Bhima remembering Ghatotkacha to carry Darupadi while on Vanavaasa or Yudishtira remembering Veda Vyasa for help in planning the Ashwamedha Yajna).

Repentance can also be a motivation for Tapasya, like in the case of Pandu giving up the throne for a life in the forest to repent for killing an innocent Rishi or Duryodhana temporarily deciding to do the same when the Pandavas rescue him from Gandharvas. The hardship of life in a forest is the Tapasya in both these cases.

The one common thread in all of these examples of Tapasya is the ability to give up one or many things or let go of things, including “throwing oneself away” or “throwing one’s self away” (I am considering both the same). Let us consider a few examples of how Tapasya shows the extreme means in which “throwing away one’s self” is depicted in Hindu culture.

Tapasvis are usually depicted as being so completely lost in meditation that plants grow over them and anthills develop all over them. They become inanimate objects for all practical purposes. They have thrown away their physical existence, and perhaps their life itself. But they are not dead, for the object of their Tapasya is not lost and this throwing away of one’s self is what eventually brings the Gods they were meditating towards to appear to fulfil their wish. This shows how the objective of the Tapasya is not lost, even though the self might be. This is a classic case of being in the moment. The focus on Tapasya is the act of the moment and the objective is achieved by being in the middle of several moments.

The above example is throwing away of both mind and body, for all discomforts are accepted and endured, hunger is forgotten, breaths per minute are greatly reduced, heartbeats are supposedly also reduced. The body becomes an inanimate object for all practical purposes. This is an extreme example of the “transcendence of nature” gojo (shizen no choetsu). The tapasvi, while still focused on the objective and the point of focus to achieve the objective, has become inanimate. So much so that plants and ants treat her or him as a support structure, just as trees colonize abandoned buildings or anthills can grow over stones. The tapasvi is a stone with an objective, working with a strength of focus that is unimaginable.

There are also more tangible examples of throwing away one’s self, in the form of literally sacrificing body parts as offerings in a yajna (here a yajna should not be translated as a sacrifice but as a transaction, where an offering, which could be a sacrifice, is only a part).

Ravana, in one version of the Ramayana I saw on TV, performs a yajna to invoke Smashana Tara, an all-powerful form of Shakti who lords over funerary sites, to request a boon of protection against all attacks when he goes to face Rama and his army during the final battle. I am not sure which version of the Ramayana this story is from. To appease Tara and gain her audience by having her appear to him, he makes several offerings. All of these fail to appease the Goddess. So he offers his own heads as offerings in the yajna. He has offered nine of his ten heads and the Goddess still does not appear. He then chooses to offer his tenth head, even if that means ending his life, thus resulting in the failure of the yajna and his objective of winning against Rama. Tara appears to Ravana and grants him his desired boon as he is about to sacrifice his last head and thus his life. This is a case where Ravana is prepared to throw away everything, his life, meaning his body, and ego and also his objective itself, which ultimately results in his achieving the objective. That Ravana loses the fight against Rama is due to various other factors. An interesting aside is that this yajna of Ravana’s, is supposedly considered not in accordance with the Vedas. So, he was even prepared to violate his religious principles.

There is a similar tale about Rama as well in one of the versions of the Ramayana (not Valmiki Ramayana). Though this is not considered in violation of the Vedas, perhaps because it did not involving allying with aspects related to death. Rama has to offer 108 lotuses to Goddess Lakshmi to be able to successfully build a bridge to Lanka from the Indian mainland. He has gathered 108 lotuses, but when the offering is made there are only 107 for the Goddess has hidden one as a test of Rama. Rama has to take a call in the spur of the moment to prevent the offering from failing. He recalls that he is called “Kamalanayana” by Sita, which means that he has eyes like a lotus. So he decides to offer his eye as the hundred and eighth lotus. Again, this is a situation where a person with an objective is willing to throw away one’s self to achieve the same. Here again, Goddess Lakshmi stops him as he is about to pluck his own eye out and grants him his wish.

One needs to bear in mind here that in both the above examples the fact that Rama and Ravana were saved at the last minute is known only in hindsight. When they were in the act of making the sacrifice – throwing one’s self away – there was no expectation of salvation, they would have gone ahead with the throwing away of the self anyway.

Consider yet another example of a tangible letting go of one’s self. Gandhari gave up her sense of sight voluntarily for the rest of her life from the time of marriage, with no desire for anything in return. She was also a great devotee of Lord Shiva. Much later in the Mahabharata, she uses the power of her sight once, to look at Duryodhana, and the power of her unused/restrained vision combined with her devotion of Lord Shiva makes Duryodhana’s body impervious to injury. Another instance of her power is seen when she curses Krishna to have to see the destruction of his clan. This curse comes true some 32 years later. This is an instance of letting go of one’s self not for a specific objective, but gaining the ability to achieving something vitally important as a consequence of that letting go, without ever having wanted to!

Image credit – “Mahabharata 2 – Bheeshma’s Vow” published by Amar Chitra Katha

Some more examples that are as profound but mundane at the same time are the situations where parents can summon their extraordinary children from great distances with just a thought when in dire need. Satyavati, when she has lost both her sons and is facing the extinction of the royal line of Hastinapura, wishes for her other son, the great sage Veda Vyasa to appear to help consult with her and proffer solutions to her conundrum. She only has to wish his presence and he appears to help his mother. Similarly, Bhima, when he is on Vanavaasa with his brothers and their wife, only needs to wish for his son Ghatothkacha’s help and he appears to carry them with his companions. This is something that happens when the family was very tired in their travels and badly needed help. These two are instances in which the children could appear at will to help their parents due their own extraordinary abilities. But the examples are profound as the throwing one’s self away here is exemplified by what the parents gave the children in each case, both were cases where the parent had offered themselves up to another person resulting in their births. It is also exemplifying of parents letting themselves (their personal desires, time and resources) go, to raise and give kids a good life. This is mundane because parents all over the world do this all the time, since time immemorial. It is also profound because this is a “throwing away of the self” that is very well acknowledged.

Image credit – “Mahabharata 36 – The Battle at Midnight” published by Amar Chitra Katha

This idea of letting go of one’s self is not limited to just Bharatiya thinking. I quote here an interesting example I found in a book of fiction no less. This example is from the first book (I do not recall the name) of a series called “The Craw Trilogy”*. I never finished reading this book though it was interesting, and the example I am quoting is from very early in the story. The story is set in the Norse world and there is a situation which has to be answered by some spiritual women who are like leaders in the religion of the Norse before they converted to Christianity. These ladies realize that the situation facing them is dire and a new Rune needs to be created. This Rune will have the power to guide them towards a solution to the dire situation. In order to conceive the Rune, the leader of the ladies goes through a set of ordeals that I can only describe as Tapasya.

The leader of the ladies meditates while subjecting herself to extreme physical hardship for several days. I do not recall all the physical challenges, but the last one is where she submerges herself in flowing water with only her head out of water and that through a hole! And at the end of the meditation, the new rune is carved. The key point here is the meditation of the lady, which is no different from Tapasya. The lady has to let go of even the idea of staying alive to come up with a rune. While this is an example from a work of fiction, the fact that it is from a British writer shows that the idea of meditation while throwing away one’s self is not exactly a rare concept in humankind.

In the example from the novel, the tapasya lasts for several days. This allows a look at how long tapasya might have to last to achieve an objective. How long does one have to be able to let go of one’s self to achieve any objective? Or it is to be a practice that one follows all though one’s life? Or is it for the duration of any given conflict. Well, the examples from Hindu culture do not really offer any answers, except showing that the “feeling” of the passage of time is relative.

The tapasya of the Asuras looking for boons that grant supernatural abilities are depicted to take years and years, sometimes even being said to be tens or hundreds of years. But the lifespans of many of these tapasvis is also said to be extremely long. Apart from the Asuras tough, when one considers the great sages, whose life is tapasya, these large numbers are not common. But then, if plants or ants have to consider a human being an inanimate object, at least several days or weeks have to pass. So, just like time seems to flow very fast when one is solving a critical problem but when the same is considered in hindsight all of it would have happened in a short time, the duration of tapasya could be relative. The duration of tapasya would seem very long for the tapasvi, while it would be shorter for an observer on the outside or to the tapasvi himself or herself in hindsight. If one considers all tapasvis to be normal humans with the same frailties, this would make sense, for normal humans are pushed to the edge of life during tapasya and that does not take too long, even though the abilities gained post tapasya would make such a previous life for the tapasvi hard to imagine due to the sheer magnificence of the same person after the abilities granted by the tapasya.

Having discussed the prevalence of “Jibun no kesu” in Hindu civilizational memory, are there examples of what could affect the practice of the same? As everyone who has attempted to apply “Jibun no kesu” would know, the concept is fantastic and sexy, to be able to transcend one’s nature by throwing one’s self away. But difficult to the point of impossibility to apply and even harder to practice, for anything more than a few seconds, or minutes at best.

This same is shown in the stories from Hindu culture as well. Whenever one is performing tapasya, especially Asuras, their opponents, the Devas try to break the tapasya with distractions that satisfy all human senses. The tapasvi is distracted with the choices food and drink, the greatest comforts and an appeal to human lust; when Apasaras are sent to distract and break a tapasvi’s ability to throw away one’s self by bringing them back to their “senses” and the desires of the self.

What is interesting is that these distractions seem to be used mostly against tapasvis who perform tapasya with a focus towards a single objective, like revenge or the gaining of superhuman abilities to achieve power or wealth. They are not seen to be used against sages and especially not against tapasvis who are women. Perhaps because the duration of the tapasya is a lot longer and interspersed with normal life and thus leaves one less vulnerable towards catastrophic tapasya failure. However, it must be said that women tapasvis, at least in my limited knowledge are never vulnerable to distractions and seem to have greater focus. This is seen in the cases of Parvati performing tapasya to win over Shiva to be her husband or Amba performing tapasya to be able to guarantee a reincarnation in a form that ensures revenge against Bheeshma. I cannot recall if Holika (Hiranyakashipu’s sister) or Mahishi (Mahishasura’s wife) encountered distractions from the Devas in their tapasya for the ability to fight their foes. Perhaps it has something to do with female intuition (Ku no ichi factor?) that lends itself better to transcend challenges?

Image credits (L & R) – “Bheeshma” published by Amar Chitra Katha, “Ayyappan” published by Amar Chitra Katha

One question comes up when we speak of the distractions in tapasya and hence in practicing “Jibun no kesu”, or just when we say how it is difficult to practice – to the point of impossibility. Are there any examples of failed tapasya in stories in Hindu culture? I am not aware of any that explicitly do. However, perhaps the story of Sage Vishwamitra’s trails and travails on the path to becoming a Brahmarishi is nothing but a series of examples of failed tapasya, despite its ultimate success.

Vishwamitra first performed tapasya to acquire Divyastras (celestial or divine weaponry). With these, he failed to defeat Vasishta, who was the one person he wanted to show as beneath him. So, this is not a failure of his tapasya but of the goal he set out to achieve as a result of the success of the same. Next, he gave away the abilities he gained from his renewed tapasya, to build a second Swarga (loosely translated as Heaven) for Trishanku, who wanted a Swarga while still mortal.

After this, he performed further tapasya and yet again he had to give away a lot of the abilities gained when he failed to break king Harishchandra (an ancestor of Rama) into giving up his virtues. This is a case where Harishchandra could practice “Jibun no kesu” at all times in his life and therefore overcome the efforts of a Rajarishi (eventually to become a Brahmarishi). This is fascinating story by itself, in examining letting go and throwing one’s self away that cannot be delved into as it is a really long one.

Post this, Vishwamitra again set about performing tapasya on the path to becoming a Brahmarishi. This time his tapasya was successfully disrupted by the Apsara Menaka, with whom he had daughter (Shakuntala, wife of Dushyanta and mother of Bharatha). After these several failures, Vishwamitra did become a Brahmarishi and made peace with Vasishta, whom he came to deeply respect and become a friend of. Their relationship is borne out by the fact that Vasishta is the one who recommends to Dasharatha that he should send Rama and Lakshmana with Vishwamitra when the latter requests the same (Dasharatha was not keen on the same due the youth and inexperience of his sons).

The summary of Vishwamitra’s experience suggests two things. Except with the incident with Menaka, he always was successful in his tapasya on the path to becoming a Brahmarishi. But perhaps his tapasya on the road of life towards the goal of becoming a Brahmarishi, was not. He was unable to let go of his self in that he was trying to outdo Vasistha or deliberately achieve impossible goals against the will of the Universe. His extraordinary abilities did allow him to temporarily do that, but at the cost of the original objective. It was much later and after several attempts that he did become one of the greatest Brahmarishis, when he could give up his need for outdoing Vasishta. His real “throwing away of his self” was when he could eliminate is own need to be superior to someone else, and just be a Brahmarishi with his knowledge, experience and abilities.

So, from the above observations, “Jibun no kesu” has been prevalent across times in our country. But why was this the case? How did the practice of “throwing one’s self away” influence anyone other the one doing the throwing away? Some of the effects of the extreme tapasya by tapasvis is depicted in the way nature reacts to the same. Extreme weather events like gale force winds, very heavy rain, extending to earthquakes, volcanoes and even meteor showers are described as being caused by the focused power of the tapasya. The weather events are so incredible and destructive that people and even Devas pray to the God who is the object of the tapasya to please grant the boon of the tapasvi to put an end to the inclement weather. Perhaps the Devas who are responsible for the elements lose control of the same due to the effect of the tapasya and hence would rather the tapasya end and they regain control!

Perhaps because a tapasvi becomes a part of nature like a rock or a tree or ants in a colony as he or she lets go of one’s self, the ability to be one with nature and not apart from it allows the tapasvi to affect it more? Or maybe just by introducing an unexpected element to an ecosystem, like to an inanimate object with an objective (a tapasvi who is practicing “Jibun no kesu”), the whole system is thrown out of whack? Either way, this is what is described in some stories.

In reality, this perhaps works in reverse. In a plain old physical fight or a more complex conflict of the mind, if one can practice “Jibun no kesu”, he or she ceases to exist as an opponent to the other. So, instead of affecting nature, one becomes a part of it, like the aforementioned tree or rock or ants. So, the person fighting has nothing to fight against, just as one would not consider a tree an enemy. This greatly increases the probability of the conflict ending. So, just like tapasya might affect the weather and thus force Devas to force the Gods to grant a wish, here one nullifies a fight by removing the opponent, by removing the self, of the same (if the ego of the fighter or the need to fight is eliminated, why is there a fight!). As the saying goes, it takes at least two to have a fight, there can’t be a fight with just one.

Lastly, we observed that tapasvis might have a specific objective (service to a community, revenge, wealth, power, knowledge etc.) or one’s life itself might be tapasya (which leads to great acts when the time and space call for the same without this act being the objective of the tapasya). In both cases, a tapasvi achieves great things by throwing away one’s self.

Similarly, what could be the objective of practicing “Jibun no kesu” in a real fight or conflict with others. It does seem that the effect of tapasya in the stories and “Jibun no kesu” in reality are inversely proportionate – tapasya causes nature to react, while “Jibun no kesu” allows one to become an indistinguishable part of nature – the objective of “Jibun no kesu” is simple and small in real life. It allows one to survive or perhaps be happy, as the case may be, for another moment, and then another and then another. Hopefully one can survive a conflict for another second, minute, hour, maybe many years and perhaps forever.

* Wolfsangel series by M D Lachlan (Mark Barrowcliffe)

The Gojo – A personal understanding

In the Bujinkan, we learn of the Gojo. Gojo, as I understand it, means “five treasures”. Here the word “treasure” could mean what we call, “pearls of wisdom”. So, the Gojo are five precepts of wisdom. In other words, they could be guiding principles of life. The five Gojo, in the order I have learnt them are as mentioned below. I am documenting how I understand these, with examples and analogies from Hindu culture and the history of life on Earth.

  1. Fumetsu no fusei
  2. Mamichi no jikai
  3. Shizen no niniku
  4. Shizen no choetsu
  5. Komyo no satori

Fumetsu no fusei

Fumetsu no fusei is translated as “Give and give” or as “endless giving”. This generally means one needs to remember to always be ready to give away things and not hold on to them. It does not, however, relate to generosity. The giving is not exactly related to or proportionate to the need of another, though it could be, but that is neither a necessary nor a sufficient condition.

To elucidate this further, remember the story of Karna. He was tricked into giving away his divine armour, which likely would have resulted in the outcome of the Kurukshetra war being that the Kauravas won. He was made aware that he was going to be tricked and yet, chose to give away the armour, because he had made a vow to always give whatever was requested after morning oblations, and when the same was asked for, despite being aware of the motivations and the possible result, he still gave away the armour.

Indra in disguise asks for Karna’s divine armour. Image credit – “Mahabharta 32 – The Fall of Bheeshma”, published by Amar Chitra Katha

There is also the situation with Bheeshma, who had two opportunities to break his vow of celibacy. One during the episode with Amba and more importantly when his stepmother Satyavati herself asked Bheeshma to relinquish the vow. This was a case where the cause of the vow was asking the vow to be broken for the purposes of the greater good. If perhaps Bheeshma has broken his vow, the miseries of the Mahabharata might have been mitigated.

Devavrata becomes Bheeshma, Image credit – “Nahusha” published by Amar Chitra Katha

So, with these two episodes in mind, what does Fumetsu no fusei mean, or teach? This could be two-fold, one in a more generic way and one perhaps specific to the martial arts.

The first generic one is where “give” could be “give-up”, more like, “let go” or “don’t be afraid to give up”. This give up could be applied to anything. In both the episodes mentioned above, Karna and Bheeshma could have chosen to give up the vow, not the armour or the need for celibacy. They could have let go of the need to be seen to be beholden to a promise or be honourable. This of course could have been possible if they saw the need to break the vow as the best option for a suitable course of action. Did they instead choose the path of honour as that fed the ego? Does this mean endless giving is referring to always being aware of things that feed the ego and letting them go, because that could lead to a better path in life, or in a given situation?

Image credit – “Mahabharata 2 – Bheeshma’s Vow” published by Amar Chitra Katha

The second meaning a little more specific to the martial arts is where one is told to not actively resist the opponent or more expansively to “not trouble” the opponent. Here, allowing the opponent to carry through with an attack while realigning oneself to safe position or place, is giving the opponent the opportunity to do what he or set out to in the first place, which is the attack. This realignment (kamae?) gives one an opportunity to use the opponent’s movement against him or herself or at least get to a safe position which might make the opponent less sure of or less willing to commit to the next attack. So, one gives up the need to fight the strength of the opponent while giving the opponent the opportunity to go through with the attack, while still not incurring any harm to oneself, this is endless giving. And since happens perpetually in an attack and hence is analogous to all conflict in life, this is “give and give’. Of course, all of this sounds wonderful, but is unimaginably difficult to implement in a real fight, let alone life.

Mamichi no jikai

Mamichi no jikai translates to “following the right path” or “being on the right path”. I have also sometimes heard it called the “righteous path” instead of the “right path”. This second gojo seems like a reminder of the first one and a pointer to the third one, kind of like “remember the first rule, and don’t forget to read the third rule”. I say this as, perhaps the right path is to follow the principle of endless giving all through one’s life. But as already noted, practicing endless giving is so hard that it is better not attempted. Thus, maybe it is more “enduring” the first principle than “following” it. And this points to the third gojo.

Shizen no niniku

Shizen no Niniku translates to “the perseverance of nature” or “make perseverance like that of nature your armour”. To endure anything, one needs perseverance. That said, how can one perceive the perseverance of nature? Perhaps nature is the entire ecosystem of the earth or maybe the universe. If we just consider the Earth and evolution of life here, that might be an instance of perseverance, extraordinary perseverance. Consider just two of the great extinctions of life in the past. The extinction at the end of the Cretaceous era resulted in the extinction of over 70% of all lifeforms on land. The dinosaurs, pterosaurs and saurians of the seas went extinct. But a remnant of them endured and became the birds of today. Tiny mammals of that age exploded onto all environments and created the richness of life of today.

The extinction at the end of the Permian era saw the extinction of over 90% of the lifeforms on earth. Mammal like reptiles that ruled all environments during that age were replaced by the dinosaurs, until the mammals came back millions of years later. Reptiles like crocodiles have been around in all of these ages, changing their sizes and shapes to suit the environment, and eating everything from other mammal like reptile to the mammals of today!

So, life endured, never went extinct, though forms of life did. This is like letting go or giving up that which needs to be let go of, given the circumstances. The perseverance here is to do what needs to be done, survive however possible, do what can be done, and change (evolve) endlessly. So, as the second gojo points out, this relentless enduring and evolving to survive through perseverance is perhaps the right path (or is this the meaning of righteous?!).

If the perseverance is not obvious, just consider the time scales, the Permian and Cretaceous are not even encompassing of the origin of life. That is well over 2 BILLION years ago. The Permian was between 250 and 300 million years ago, and the Cretaceous was roughly between 150 to 65 million years ago! Crocodile like reptilians have thus endured for 300 MILLION years! Mammals came back after 200 MILLION years to reclaim all environments while being in the shadow of the dinosaurs for all that LONG time! Now that is what embodies perseverance and endurance!

Above – Mugger or Marsh Crocodile

Shizen no choetsu

Shizen no choetsu is translated as “transcendence of nature”. This is like a reminder to not miss out on the nuance of the third gojo. While it is easy to be impressed with the vastness of time and the awesomeness of the endurance observed in the third gojo, consider what it took to actually endure during all that time! And that is “transcendence”.

 Crocodile like reptiles, or crocodilians endured for 300 million years, but not specific crocodile species (or alligator or gharial or caiman species). Some species survived, but not as the same, they evolved and changed and became new species.

Dinosaurs are gone, but birds thrive today, and they are modern dinosaurs. But they are not dinosaurs, they are descendants of descendants. They evolved through many stages into the existing forms. This is an even greater change than the crocodilians. The crocodilians of today bear a resemblance to the crocodilians of old, but the birds bear no resemblance to dinosaurs, barring a few with a handful of species of the past. But in both cases the scale (size not the scales of the skin) of the creatures has changed in ways that are hard to conceive!

Now consider the mammals. Do any of the mammals of today bring to mind the sail backed Dimetrodon, which was a mammal like reptile (synapsid) of the early Permian. Absolutely none. Considering even a smaller time scale, the ancestors of whales were amphibious, large otter sized creatures, and lived supposedly lived at the edges of swamps. They were mammals for sure and lived after the end of the Cretaceous. But between then and now, some of them became the Blue Whale. From the size of a large otter to the size of a Boeing 747. Imagine that!

Now all of this is gradual evolution over time, doing what needs to be done; eat, reproduce, hide, hunt, survive. But over time, advantages are found, niches explored and exploited, and over millions of years, the original creature has morphed into something that would never recognize its ancestor and vice versa. This evolution, where the past or original specimens are unrecognizable as being related, is transcendence. Transcendence as result of relentless endurance through perseverance to survive, all the while doing just what needs to be done.

Thus, transcending is evolving to perhaps not being able to recognize the old self, or even remembering the old one. There is no sense of achievement at having evolved, it is just a new self, suited to survive in a new ecosystem. The new form cannot remember the old one to have pride or even learn from the transcendence, for the next evolution (read transcendence) likely will have no learning or similarity to the previous iteration. So, just follow the path you see 😊 and the learning will come. The path is to just do what needs to be done and letting go of that which needs letting go of. Maybe then, is not knowing transcendence and not having the need to know fumetsu no fusei? And only this leads to the right path? For even having a need to hold on to learning, is not being able to let go. We might have to accept that it is necessary to let go of the need to remember our learning or even think learning is important! Or does just staying the path of perseverance while letting go of that which needs to be let go, lead to learning without trying and is that a transcendence by itself?

Dimetrodon, mammal-like synapsid to Elephant, modern mammal

Komyo no satori

The last gojo is “Komyo no satori”. This translates to “the light of wisdom”. This seems to be a wink to make you realize that the end is not really the end. If the path lasts all life long and at its end there is no need for wisdom, what is the purpose of wisdom, let alone a light that perhaps signifies the gaining of it (like the light bulb in comic books 😊). Perhaps this just means one realizes that there is no end, and one has to follow the other concepts that have already been realized and that realization is wisdom in itself. Maybe it just means you smile and realize that the journey was the light and wisdom is the continuation of it without any grouse at having to endure further.

The wisdom was always in one, if one had to endure and if transcendence results in the loss of that wisdom, then that is something to give away as well, and then go again. 😊

Image credit – “Tales of Humour 3”, published by Amar Chitra Katha

Paapada Koda Tumba Beku

The other day my dad and I were watching news on TV. It was bombastic bordering on self-righteous like it is quite a lot of times. But as always it did trigger a conversation about politicians in our country. One thing that is true of us Indians is that almost always people living in one state cannot understand the political choices of our fellow citizens living in another state. We cannot understand why a particular leader or party holds sway in a given state or even a given region. This is not surprising, as people in one region cannot have the context or circumstances of people in another and therefore do not understand the politics of another state.

But one thing that is true is that every party and leader faces a debacle due to an aggregation of what citizens see as mistakes. Leaders and parties are not penalized for one or two mistakes, especially not if they are seen to be a consequence of poor information availability or consequences of well-intentioned decisions that did not pan out as expected. They are voted out however when a sum of decisions of either an individual or a party result in trouble or a lack of improvement for people or when a series of actions are seen, which are seen as deliberately bad or biased.

During our conversation, one proverb came up, “Paapada koda tumba beku”. This is in Kannada. The same in Hindi roughly translates to “Paap ka ghada bharna hai”. This essentially means that one’s vessel bearing one’s misdeeds needs to overflow for that person to pay for said misdeeds. This is a summation of what was expressed in the previous paragraph. Politicians and political parties in India are made to pay when a series of their wrong actions and decisions come home to roost. In other words, their “paapada koda tumba beku”.

From the little that I know this proverb is in reference to the incident in the Mahabharata during the Rajasooya Yajna by Yudishtira. Shishupaala was killed by Krishna during the Yajna. Krishna had made a promise to Shishupaala’s mother that he would forgive a hundred misdeeds of Shishupaala before he faced the consequences of the same. True to his word, Krishna accepted a hundred insults to himself and other attendees at the Yajna before he slew Shishupaala with his Sudarshana chakra. He also made Shisupaala aware of the misdeed limit running out and that he was in danger. But Shishupaala did not heed the warning and paid for it with his life. In other words, when his “paapada koda” was full, he faced the consequences of the same.

With that long winded introduction, I get to the point I was intending to make all along. When we train the Bujinkan (or any other martial art I suspect) in class, we are often shown a form by our teacher(s). As students we then replicate the form to the best of our abilities based on our experience in the dojo. A lot of the time, teachers are teaching concepts with specific forms. These concepts can be expressed with many different forms. For example, our teacher might say, “do not break connection with the uke”, or “En no Kirinai” in Japanese. When training this concept, the form shown by the teacher will almost never work for the student. For the form ends when the uke ceases to be uke, in other words, uke chooses to stop attacking and retreats or calls for an end to that particular interaction with tori. Uke will choose to call an end to the interaction when she or he can no longer take it from the tori, or if she or he realizes that the tori is incapable of protecting her or himself in a meaningful manner.

So, there is no “form” in this situation. There is a continuous flow of physical and intellectual movement until one of the two practitioners calls it off. In other words, when one has had enough. There may be no misdeeds here for a “paapada koda”, but there is a “koda” of ability and tolerance beyond which an uke or tori can take no more or do no more. Until this happens, the flow of movement does not end and one must keep going, do what needs to be done and then the next and the next and the next. And this must be done however it can be done, even if one is now beyond the original “form” that was demonstrated by the teacher to elucidate the concept in the first place.

Notes:

  1. Uke – a practitioner who initiates the attack (mostly during a training session)
  2. Tori – a practitioner who defends against an attack (mostly during a training session), so as to practice a form or concept.
  3. Both the above roles are temporary and for reference purposes only. Neither is true in a real fight or duel.
  4. Paapa / Paap – Misdeed or Sin in Kannada / Hindi, root from Sanskirt if I am not wrong
  5. Koda / Ghada – Vessel in Kannada / Hindi
  6. Tumba beku / Bharna Hai – “Should fill up” or “Should overflow” in Kannada / Hindi

Vyuha and Taijutsu

Chakravyuha (Moving spiral formation) carved on the Hoysaleshwara temple wall, Halebidu, Karnataka

Vyuha is generally identified as a formation for battle. This is something most of us learn from our reading of Amar Chitra Katha comics as kids. We all know that the Chakravyuha was deadly from the Kurukshetra war. We have also heard the names of several other vyuha from the same war, Vajra vyuha, Shakata vyuha, Makara vyuha, Krauncha vyuha, Suchi vyuha, Sarvatobhadra vyuha and many others. What we do not know is the specific advantages and disadvantages of each of these and when they are supposed to be used. Was it at the discretion of the senapati, or raja or were other criteria considered? Like geography, the weather, number and quality of troops and equipment at hand? We do not have, or at least I have not heard of any military manual describing these aspects.

What I find mind boggling is how were these vyuha or formations achieved? How much training of troops is needed to get them into that specific formation? How long does it take? What high levels of discipline is needed to hold these vyuha? And can all troops form all vyuha or was there any specialization? For example, the most popular Chakra vyuha was supposed to be a continuously moving spiral. How was the positioning of the troops decided? And who coordinated the movement? How was communication achieved if a vyuha was fraying at some point or if reinforcements were needed at some point in the vyuha? When was the decision made to abandon a given vyuha and how was that communicated? What were the criteria to decide if the vyuha was ready and if it was successful? Was there some analysis post the use of a vyuha to see if could be improved? There are no ready answers to any of these questions that I know of.

Now, there is this concept of Taijutsu that many Japanese Martial Arts use. The different art forms might use different terms for it, but the concept is the same. In modern day parlance, it is translated for simplicity as body movement or prosaically “art of the body”. Tai meaning body and Justsu meaning “Art of”. But I have been told by my teachers that originally Tai meant a unit of troops and all their equipment like armour, weapons, rations and also their horses or beasts of burden if they had any. So, Taijutsu was meant in the past to mean “Art of a Unit” where a unit is a body of troops. I have heard it said that a Tai was generally meant to be a squad of soldiers, a squad being a smaller unit than a platoon. So Taijutsu was all about working as a team with all that they had access to. One can assume that since there was a specific term for this, it was meant for teams to work together efficiently and effectively.

In the modern day when we train traditional martial arts, we do not really use those concepts for professional fighting, but for various other purposes ranging from entertainment to personal development and everything in-between. Hence, when Taijutsu is used in a modern day martial arts class (teaching Japanese martial arts), it means move your body as one (not a unit of troops moving as one, but your body as one). That means, your core moves and your limbs, neck and head move with it, there are no twists and limb movements that are unnecessary (or stand-alone). This is taught to help keep one’s balance, so as to be more effective in any movement that is carried out, be it with or without weapons (traditional weapons in the context of a class). An example of this would be a punch where only the hand moves and the hips are not lowered or the legs are not in the correct position. This punch would be far less effective compared to one executed with correct movement of the legs and hips which make the punch a lot more devastating.

We also know that there are several martial art forms around the world and they were all used effectively at a given time and place. The fact that they were effective generally means that the practitioners of the art form were trained it its use. This means having some form of Taijutsu, irrespective of the term used for the same. And each of these were designed to give the practitioners of the art form an advantage in the purpose for the use of the art (be it in a narrow palace corridor, in a wooded area, on a boat, as a bodyguard, with large field weapons etc).

With this introduction, we can finally move ahead with what I was thinking. 😊

Each school or art form or ryuha has specific tenets relating to Taijutsu. For example, the Takagi Yoshin Ryu, which we were training when these thoughts came to mind, has among its tenets, the following principles.

  • Stacking the opponent’s hips
  • Using leverage against the opponent’s joints
  • Moving in a direction perpendicular to the opponent’s direction
  • Moving forward and not backward while facing an opponent

Also, from what I have learnt, the Takagi Yoshin Ryu was developed as a school mainly used by bodyguard. Hence, they disarmed and immobilized opponents as against killing them. Perhaps this was to gather information later or to not spill blood in the presence of one’s lord or any other reason. To disarm and immobilize opponents, the tenets mentioned above were built into their Taijutsu.

From my experience with the training of Takagi Yoshin Ryu, it is designed to use the structure of uke’s body and hence a really skilled and experienced practitioner of this Ryu can fight an opponent without the active use of eyesight. This Ryu is a Jutaijutsu and hence fighting happens in close quarters and thus, one can feel the tensions and hence intentions of the uke and counter the same by reading the uke’s joints and body movement. The right distances to achieve a strike or lock are also determined by this feeling. So, over time, the feeling and flow of the Uke (opponent) becomes the driving force for a practitioner and not just the tenets. The tenets lead to the feeling and vice versa in a virtuous cycle. Now, let us expand the same concept to a Vyuha. Was an experienced Senapati (Commander-in-chief of the army) or Raja (King) able to read an enemy’s battle tactics and his own troops requirements the same way one is supposed to read an opponent in Takagi Yoshin Ryu? This is not easy and requires a lot of training time to express successfully in one-on-one combat. So, how much skill, ability, training and natural affinity for the feeling of a battle and battlefield should a practitioner of Taijutsu at the level of a large body of troops need?! This is a question and a matter of awe at the same time. What kind of training and experience would the development of such abilities involve? Where does one begin (as it clearly happened a lot in the past and still happens today)? How did the evolution of information gathering, and technology influence this practice and its evolution? These are questions I do not have answers to, just points to ponder about.

Padmavyuha (Lotus formation), Shakatavyuha (Cart formation) and Suchivyuha (Needle formation) – 3 merged into one, top image

Notes:

  1. The above comic book images are from my personally owned books.
  2. The images of the vyuha are representative only, they are not to be considered exact.

Vali, Sugreeva, Rama, Dropping out, Takagi Yoshin Ryu and Kyojaku jugo Arubekarazu

Remember that part of the Ramayana where Rama has to shoot Vali from hiding, while the latter duels Sugreeva? This sequence brings so many thoughts, what an incredible archer Rama should have been, to be able to shoot one of the duelists, while the duelists did not position themselves in any predictable manner! Or was Sugreeva moving in a specific manner in the duel so as to allow Rama a clear shot at Vali while ensuring he is out of the way of the arrow; how difficult must this have been, while fighting for one’s life and also knowing you could be shot by an arrow intended for your opponent.

A few months ago*, we were applying the feeling and concepts of the Takagi Yoshin Ryu with the Sanshin no Kata and Kunai Waza feeling. This was then added to the Japanese poem about a lack of dualities and how to keep the heart in the place of nothingness to start on the path to wisdom. This was the first time we had heard the poem in its entirety and that too in an artwork created by Nagato Sensei. We had until now only heard the first of the four lines of the poem, “Kyojaku jugo arubekarazu”.

During this training, I observed my teacher Shiva actively let go of all body tension and cause severe problems to the attacker (Uke). He was constantly dropping out of any uke nagashi or movement he made, and this caused serious impediments to the ability and will of the Uke to keep up the attack, and this was clearly visible in a Jutaijutsu like situation. This observation and learning are what prompted the train of thought I am expressing in this article.

So, back to the Ramayana. It is known (I mean from other stories in the Hindu scriptures) that Vali was a warrior of unparalleled strength and skill. He was invincible one on one, there is no doubt there at all. Vali defeated Ravana in single combat so effortlessly, it was not even a fight, just a humiliation for Ravana. And Ravana was as fearsome a warrior as one can imagine. Also, Vali had a boon which rendered his opponent at 50% of his or her fighting ability, and the remaining 50% got added to Vali’s own fighting ability. So, an opponent, the moment he or she chose to become Vali’s opponent was diminished while facing an opponent vastly superior to what one might have been prepared to face.

An aside here, a whole article can be considered to discuss how an opponent’s ability reduces by 50%, from a martial arts perspective, at least from a Bujinkan perspective as I see it.

It is also known that Sugreeva could not take on Vali in a war, where armies would be involved. Sugreeva was a fugitive in Vali’s kingdom and had a band of followers, not an army. Further, he would not have gone to war even if he could, for he did not want a civil war. He only wanted his wife back (held captive as a wife by Vali) and Vali eliminated for the person he had become post the Dundhubi episode. So, it was always going to be single combat between Sugreeva and Vali. Vali himself was never going to shrink away from a duel, such was his justified confidence in his own ability. So, he would not use his troops to cheat and eliminate or capture Sugreeva without defeating him in the duel.

Sugreeva also knew he could not defeat Vali in single combat (Dwand or Dwandwa yuddha). This situation set up the need to eliminate Vali by stealth. We also know that Rama was extraordinary as a warrior. And superlative as an archer. Of course, Vali was a fantastic archer as well, but the duel between him and Sugreeva did not involve bows and arrows. Also, Rama was also really strong, as seen from the ease with which he moved Dundhubi’s skeleton. His strength is also demonstrated when his one arrow felled seven coconut trees. His archery skill is also shown earlier in the Ramayana where he is the best at not only hitting the target but also with the speed of reloading, shooting and restringing his bow.

So, Rama is the perfect choice for taking the shot while the duel takes place. There is also an additional complexity in the situation. Vali and Sugreeva, being brothers, resemble each other very closely. In the first duel between Vali and Sugreeva, Rama cannot decide who to shoot due to this resemblance. Sugreeva has to flee for his life, abandoning the duel. Vali seems to have been satisfied with his victory and his brother’s humiliation and not expanded efforts to eliminate his brother and his band in a great way after this first duel.

With all this as background, let us look at the second duel. This time Sugreeva wore a garland to allow Rama to distinguish him from his brother. Also, I have not heard of, read of or seen any specify strategy planned ahead of the duel that would allow Rama to shoot Vali with minimal risk to Sugreeva. I also do not know if the duel was nudged by Sugreeva by his movements to maneuver Vali to a position where he would be a target while reducing risk to himself.

I also do not know what Vali’s state of mind was or his method of fighting in the second duel. With that said, imagine how incredible this shot that Rama took was. He had only one shot. Clearly the duel was far enough away that he could not distinguish Sugreeva without the garland. The shot had to ensure it hit its target in the midst of a dynamic duel. A fight between two accomplished warriors (Sugreeva was a great warrior, inferior only to Rama, Vali, Ravana and the other superlatives) sees the two always in motion. Neither stands still even if not in contact, to achieve an advantageous position or posture. In this dynamic situation, ensuring that an arrow hits its target before he moves while also being sure that that the arrow does not hit the other person, who might occupy the same position where the target was just a moment ago is scary to even think about!

If the duel was with spears or some other long weapon, the situation might have been easier for Rama because a pole weapon puts a lot of space between the duelists, more than sufficient for an archer as good as Rama. Bur from what I know, the duel was with either gadas (maces) or an unarmed fight (grappling and striking). The gada is not a long weapon and does not put the opponents at a distance that is safe for one from an archer, not to mention unarmed combat, which puts far smaller space between the two.

So, Rama had to not just take a shot, but understand Vali in this specific duel! How difficult is that! If Vali was being nonchalant and letting Sugreeva do the work and fall into strikes or locks, he would have to predict Vali’s nonchalance! If Vali was angry at a second duel in a short span of time and against an opponent who ran away the last time, would he be aggressive and go for the kill and thus ensure a short duel? If this was true, Rama had to be sure to predict Vali’s next attack to take the shot at the right time, considering any delay might spell doom for Sugreeva. And he had to do this with only one reference fight to go by! However much Rama had heard of Vali’s fighting, he had seen him fight only once! So, getting the right shot by going with the flow of a fight he was not involved in; can anyone imagine that! And in a life-or-death situation for his friend; Rama would be considered divine for this ability alone, let alone all his other qualities as a human being! Yes, I am aware of all the exclamation marks in this paragraph, this is how awesome the situation was.

Now let us look at this situation from Sugreeva’s perspective. We do not know if there was a plan beyond Rama killing Vali while he dueled Sugreeva. Sugreeva has received a hiding and barely got away with his life in the first duel. So, what levels of faith mush he have had in Rama to try the same thing again! Imagine this, he was wearing a garland to distinguish himself from Vali. But we do not know what the garland was made of. If it was any regular garland, how much effort would he have to expend to ensure it was not ripped off his neck? And worse still, the garland gave extra holding space for Vali, who was already the superior fighter. Would this be a fatal disadvantage?

Next, how did Sugreeva feel about Rama taking a shot at Vali? How nervous would even a great warrior feel knowing that the slightest error from Rama might end up killing him and not his opponent? Would this knowledge affect his fighting style? And would this change result in Vali realizing something was wrong? And if that had to be overcome, would any change he made to his fighting movement result in a fatal error? Again, this was the second time he was putting himself in harm’s way in a short span of time. If he had a plan and this was also known to Rama, would that even come to pass? What changes in Vali’s state of mind and fighting style would render their plan useless or would that be an advantage?

We can see a lot of questions come up in the mind of any martial artist as we see above. Given all this, both Sugreeva and Rama would have had to go with the flow of the duel and implicitly trust each other’s ability. “NO PRESSURE” in all caps does begin to express the extraordinary danger that Sugreeva was in and hence the expectation from Rama. Did Sugreeva have any sacrificial moves to render Vali open to Rama’s shot? We do not know. But we do know that the plan succeeded. Sugreeva survived, Rama’s shot was successful and fatal for Vali. This achievement in itself calls for reverence not just in Rama, but in Sugreeva’s judgement of people’s abilities and his own skill as a warrior (he had Hanuman in his band after all, that should have been a dead giveaway 😊). Also, as a martial artist, it kind of encompasses the meaning of the “Kyojaku jugo…” poem. Both Rama and Sugreeva had to let go of so many necessities for a PLAN to succeed and trust to just an objective (Vali’s death) and a path (there will be a duel and a shot in stealth at Vali). There could have been no option for any detailing, just a lot of faith in each other and the need to achieve the objective. How incredibly cool is that?

*This article was written back in the beginning of June 2022, before I had started a blog.

The Ashta Siddhi and Budo

The Ashta Siddhi are regarded with great reverence in Hindu culture. “Ashta” means eight, “Siddhi” is an ability or skill, but could also be termed as a power. Siddhi is something that is achieved through Saadhana, which is thorough and sustained practice. Many of the great Gods and Goddesses from Hindu scripture and the epics are said to have achieved the Ashta Siddhi. These include various forms of the Devi, Ganesha, Krishna, and most popularly, Lord Hanuman had all mastered the Ashta Siddhi.

The Ashta Siddhi are as defined below.

  1. Anima – The ability to make one’s self very small
  2. Mahima – The ability to make one’s self very large
  3. Laghima – The ability to make one’s self very light
  4. Garima – The ability to make one’s self very heavy
  5. Praapti – The ability to get or obtain whatever one wants
  6. Praakaamya – The ability to acquire or achieve anything one wants
  7. Vashitva – The ability to control anything or everything
  8. Eeshitva – The ability to be superior to everything or attain Godhood

From a cursory look at the eight abilities mentioned above, it is easy to notice how they are related in pairs and complement each other.

  • Anima and Mahima are related to the physical volume of the person with the ability.
  • Laghima and Garima are related to the physical mass of the person with the ability.
  • Praapti and Praakaamya go hand in hand since one has to be able to acquire to obtain something and one should be able to receive something that is acquired.
  • Vashitva and Eeshitva are related because to be able to control everything is to be a God, and to be a God requires the ability to control everything.

Another aspect to consider with relation to the Ashta Siddhi is the fact that these abilities are associated with the Gods in Hindu culture. This generally suggests two things. One is that these abilities are not attainable by normal mortal humans. The second is that these are fantastical and since they are associated with religion and the Gods, they are all fantasy. Both of these are valid.

Some of the definitions used for Anima mention that it is the ability to shrink one’s self to atomic sizes and the Mahima is to be able to expand one’s self infinitely. An example of Anima is when Hanuman shrank himself to the size of a fly when he slew Mahiravana to save Rama and Lakshmana from being sacrificed. Similarly an example of Mahima is when Hanuman expanded his size to be able to lift a mountain to save Laskhmana during the war in Lanka. This definitely is beyond what normal humans can ever do.

Similarly, one of the definitions of Laghima is to be able to make oneself as light as air! Praapti and Praakaamya by definition seem magical. How can one obtain anything one wants or acquire anything one wants! All normal humans have limitations and constraints. The last two abilities again, by definition are to achieve divinity and thus, are beyond normal humans.

Of course, there are people who do say that these are abilities that can be and are achieved through prolonged and intense yoga and yogic practices. I am not aware of anyone who has ever been able to demonstrate these abilities as defined in the absolute superhuman sense. If there are people with such abilities, they have kept themselves from the public eye.

With this introduction, I would like to look at a few concepts from Budo and the martial arts which explain the eight abilities in a more mundane manner. These concepts are analogous to the Ashta Siddhi, but only as they would be used in a fight between humans or in a situation needing conflict management among normal humans.

Fair warning, these concepts from Budo are very simple in some cases and relevant only in a fight, not even remotely are they magical, but are certainly based on common sense. Also, the analogues from Budo might not pair up as neatly as the original eight, nor would they be as neatly flowing from one to the other like the original eight. They just go to show that the same (or at least similar) concepts exist in both cases, while one is preserved with magical stories, the other through living martial art forms that have a long history and lineage. Perhaps the use of stories is what allowed the Ashta Siddhi to be so neatly flowing from one to another? One can only speculate.

Anima and Garima

The concept of Anima and Garima go hand in hand in reality. When one lowers her or his core (essentially one’s centre of gravity), the person feels heavier to anyone trying to dislodge them from that specific posture. This is true in all martial arts and sports and it is common sense for all humans. This is also at the root of all kamae, or physical posture in the basics of Budo.

What one has done in lowering her or his core is most likely widen one’s stance, by increasing the distance one’s feet and bent the knees, thus also reducing the height. So, the “size” of the person has reduced in one of the 3 axes (consider it the Z axis) while also seemingly increased the weight with the same mass. So, in effect, one has become smaller and heavier at the same time.

Thus, these two are really easy to understand. If a martial artist trains her or his core and leg strength and the ability to move her or his feet easily irrespective of physical size, both Anima and Garima are achieved. The speed of movement of the legs also depends on the martial artist not resting on the heels and instead learning to use the ball of the feet and the toes to hold their weight.

Image credit – “The Ramayana” published by Amar Chitra Katha

Of course, reducing one’s size also includes being able to go down on the knees, falling and getting up, sitting down and getting up as well. It also includes being able to change the angle of one’s self in relation to the attacker. For example, turning one’s side to the attacker exposes a far smaller surface area open to the attack (this is making one’s self smaller in either the X or Y axes). This is like a primary tenet of the “Totoku Hyoshi no Kamae” (the posture to protect oneself by making oneself as small as possible to use whatever one’s weapon is, as a shield).

There are a few other concepts that come to mind as going hand in hand with the Siddhis of Anima and Garima. One relating to Garima is the concept of Fudo, which translates to “Immovable”. To be immovable one needs to be of great mass, or more realistically, be able to manoeuvre one’s size and weight as required by the situation to prevent one’s footing or balance from being taken by the opponent. Here, I am not considering the use of Fudo in relation to one’s spirit or attitude.

Image credit – “The Ramayana” published by Amar Chitra Katha

In the Bujinkan, we study the Gyokko Ryu. The origin of this school is supposedly by a Chinese princess and was to be applied by a small person for defence in the somewhat smaller confines of an indoor setting. Complementing this, the theme of the year for the year 2015 in the Bujinkan, was “Goshinjutsu”. This translates as “self-protection” (NOT self-defence). One of the things taught as part of this theme was to be able to protect one’s self while not being big and strong. Soke Hatsumi Masaaki emphasized that all practitioners should learn to move and fight like women; he meant that one should learn to be able move and fight like a generally smaller and less strong person against any size of opponent. This concept holds true irrespective of whether one is a man or a woman, young or old. The Gyokko Ryu, by virtue of its origins emphasizes that one should be able to keep one’s size small and heavy (when necessary). This is to not only present a smaller target (bundle of opportunities) to the opponent, but also to not be constrained by one’s size in any space (a large person might not be able to move freely indoors). This also means that any attack on an opponent will require generating power with a shorter strike range.

Mahima and Laghima

Mahima and Laghima, as a converse of Anima and Garima, go hand in hand, though not exactly. While lowering one’s core or centre of gravity increases stability, this is detrimental to quick movement. Stability generates an inertia against movement and so adds a little extra effort to move. This is great for training though, and with time, it might be mitigated to quite an extent.

But then, one needs to understand Mahima not as an opposite of Anima, but as a transformation of the body. If one needs to perform a roll, a human being has to reduce her or his size in the vertical direction or Z axis and increase size in the horizontal direction, at the beginning of and during the roll, depending on how far the roll needs to be. So, in a real scenario where there is no magic and no spontaneous shrinking or expanding happens at a cellular level, Mahima and Anima are complementing each other, where a reduction is size in one axis results in an increase in another.

Laghima on the other hand is not really about a change in the size or shape or even posture, but more about control of one’s own body. This again relates to the extent of, duration of and quality of training a martial artist has put in. The ability to use the toes and ball of the feet as against the heels, the strength in the core and control of the same, ability to move the entire body as one, control of the facea, all of these play a role in the ability of the martial artist to achieve Laghima in her or his movements.

One of the definitions of Laghima is to be very light and be able to float, like on air***. In Budo, there is a concept called Ishito Bashi. This refers to the stones skipping on water. This concept captures the essence of Laghima very well. Stones being heavier than water should skink, but then, when they strike the surface at a specific angle and velocity, they can and do bounce off the surface multiple times. This does not mean the skipping stone is lighter than water, but can surely behave that way under the right circumstances. In this same manner, a martial artist is taught to be able to be extremely responsive to an attacker’s movements, and even intentions.

Image credit – “The Ramayana” published by Amar Chitra Katha

This concept means a martial artist (Budoka) should not be stiff in the body and fixated in her or his intended movements. But instead, should be able to respond to the opponent (not just react). This requires being light on the feet and flexible in the body and mind. This also leads to additional concepts like “listening with the whole body” and training one’s intuitive abilities in a conflict management scenario. In other words by not being tied down by a stiff body and preconceived notions in the mind, one is extremely light and able to respond almost instantaneously to an opponent, making it seem like one is impossible to hit or respond to, for the opponent gets no feedback at all to form an attack. To put it in a poetic manner, a Budoka can, with lots of good training, “float on the intentions of the opponent”, just as a stone can skip on water. This is just a practical application to someone saying you should be light as the air and impossible to either catch or hit.

Having considered the concept of rendering oneself incapable of being attacked by being light, it must be understood that the same can be achieved through armour. This is using technology to augment physical abilities or making up for the lack of the same, or both in some cases. Armour protects the body and can allow one to get away with not being able to be light and move very efficiently. But armour also makes one heavier, and also larger. Think of all the body armour used in the past; samurai armour, full plate harness, or even modern day body armour. All of these make a person larger (in volume). Add a helmet to this and even the height is increased. Overall, a person appears more substantial in armour.

In the Bujinkan, we train the Kukishinden Ryu, a martial school which traditionally used armour. The use of the same necessitates a physical posture with any weapon to be larger than one when not using armour. For this reason, there is even a kamae (physical posture) called “Daijodan no kamae” which translates to “large high level posture”, the key here being the prefix “Dai” (large).

Image credit – “Mahabharata 20 – Arjuna’s Quest for Weapons” published by Amar Chitra Katha

This also shows how being large, or using Mahima, can also refer to just occupying greater space, like in armour. Hence, adding a weapon to the mix also achieves the same. This seems pretty similar to a country being considered powerful in the modern sense if it has the ability to strike far from its shores due to standoff range weapons and long range missiles. Or possess the ability to cripple other nations with armies of hackers in the cyberspace. The country can be small, but the “space” it controls (exercise influence over), geographical or cyber is “large”.

Praapti

The word “Praapti” and its forms are still used pretty often, compared to the terms for the other seven Siddhis. In Kannada for example, it could be “Avanige yenu praapta aayithu?” or “What did he get?” and in Hindi an example could be “Tumne kya praapt kiya?” or “What did you obtain?” As seen in these two examples, in common parlance “Praapti” means “get” or “obtain”. In either case, it boils down to “receiving” something.

The concept of “receiving” is literally the foundation of both the basics and advanced stages of the martial arts in the Bujinkan system. Ukemi and Uke Nagashi are the first things taught in the basics of the Bujinkan. Ukemi refers to “receiving the ground” and hence involves rolls and break falls. It has everything to do with how to injure oneself the least when one has to fall. Uke Nagashi refers to “receiving the uke (opponent)”. This deals with the different ways one can absorb, block, counter, deflect or evade an attack whether the attack is from a higher, lower or any other angle. So, literally, how one can obtain safety while being attacked or falling is the crux of this “receiving” and reiterates how one should be able to have “praapti” of safety.

Image credit – “Mahabharata 41 – The Ashwamedha Yajna” published by Amar Chitra Katha

At a more advanced level, as Nagato Sensei (One of the senior most teachers in the Bujinkan) says, everything begins with Sakkijutsu. Sakkijutsu is about developing the intuitive ability in a fight (or any conflict management situation in daily life) to be able to move pre-emptively to either cause the opponent(s) to be in a disadvantageous position or to put one’s self in the safest or most advantageous position in relation to the opponent.

In order to be able to use intuition to one’s advantage, there are two things that are needed. First, one must have a lot of experience in training, of trusting one’s intuition and facing the consequences of failing to do so. The second relates to what we discussed with respect to Laghima, to be able to listen to the opponent and her or his surroundings to be able to intuit their intention and moves. The first of these two is about receiving knowledge and experience (Gyan aur anubhav “praapt” karo – in Hindi). The second is about receiving information from the opponent and surroundings, even when it is not explicit. Here, Praapti is all about obtaining the ability to survive, through safety and perhaps success. This is something everyone does at all times in life. We use experience to be great in any field and usually this is because we can read the situation and be in the right place at the right time. Perhaps this is a precursor to being lucky.

Praakaamya

This is the Siddhi that, from my perspective, belies any direct correlation with a concept in Budo. Praakaamya means the ability to acquire anything. Because this article is in English, there is one question that would surely come up. What is the difference between “obtain” and “acquire”? The general understanding would be that “acquire” implies more effort on the part of the person who gets something, as against “obtain” which could be either effort or any other means, like finding, being gifted and such. This is why I have understood “Praapti” to mean “receive” more than to “obtain”. So, by my interpretation, while “Praapti” is to receive, “Praakaamya” is to be able to take. So, with respect to “Praapti”, the person receiving is, to an extent passive, while with “Praakaamya” the person taking is, to an extent, active. Also, like Praapti, Praakaamya also relates to life in general, not specifically to a fight.

With this basic detail about Praakaamya Siddhi, let us look at some concepts from conflict management, war strategies and a situation where individuals are fighting. In any conflict, if one has all the information about the abilities, numbers and position of an opponent(s), and also knows everything about one’s own strengths, skills, numbers and positions, the opponent can always be overcome. This is true if the same information is not available to the opponent.

In Budo, we learn two concepts, one called “Yoyu” and another called “Kurai Dori”. Yoyu refers to having a surplus of everything. Kurai Dori refers to strategic positioning. If one has a surplus of information, experience and skill, once can always achieve a favourable strategic position against an opponent, and cause the opponent to be in a disadvantageous situation or maybe defeated. Also, if one is able to achieve favourable a strategic position, gathering surplus information might become easier. These two are thus, complementary.

Image credit – “Mahabharata 41 – The Ashwamedha Yajna” published by Amar Chitra Katha

With the Siddhi of Praapti, one has all the skills, experience and also all the information about the opponent. With the trained intuitive** abilities, if the opponent knows or plans somethings (or even thinks it!), so does the one defending. So, with Praapti achieved, one has everything needed to always achieve a successful strategic position against an opponent. Thus, Kurai Dori is a variant of Praakaaamya in a conflict. If one can “acquire” a strategic position, once can acquire a surplus of everything, including information, so “Yoyu” is achieved. With these two concepts applied in practice, anything can be achieved, and thus anything can be acquired. In this way “Praapti” and “Praakaamya” form a virtuous cycle, as do “Yoyu” and “Kurai Dori” Thus, “Yoyu” and “Kurai Dori” are a fair approximation of Praakaamya. Of course, this needs a foundation in Praapti, represented by Sakkijutsu, Ukemi, Uke Nagashi and other layers of training.

Vashitva

Before delving into Vasitva and its antecedents in Budo, I need to clarify something here. As I have been writing this article, I realize that I have to clarify the progression of the eight Siddhis. They are not acquired linearly. It is at best circular. The eight Siddhis complement and enable each other. It is not like eight different weapons being acquired. It is more akin to having a weapons platform, like a fighter aircraft, whose sensor package, weapons array and engine behaviour are variable and mission specific. The airframe with its stealth abilities is like one of the Siddhis, while what this platform carries are the rest.

The above point was important as we discuss the last two Siddhis. I have seen some mention Vashitva first, and some others mention Eeshitva. Personally, I feel Vashitva should be before Eeshitva for reasons I hope will be clear in a bit.

In Indian vernacular languages, “Vashikarana” means to be able to hypnotize and thus control someone. “Vasha” means control. Thus “Vashitva” means “to be able to control”. So, the seventh Siddhi is to be able to control an opponent(s) or just about anything on the planet, like plants, birds, insects and animals. When speaking of control, it is vital to mention that one should not let oneself be controlled and also ensure the following two. One should not let on that he or she is not being controlled and if possible, also make the opponent believe that they are in control.

Image credit – “Hanuman to the Rescue – Tales of Hanuman” published by Amar Chitra Katha

In the Bujinkan, there is a trinity of concepts, “Toatejutsu”, “Shinenjutsu” and “Fudo Kana Shibari”. “Toatejutsu” refers to “striking from a distance”, “Shinenjutsu” refers to “capturing the soul/spirit of the opponent” and “Fudo Kana Shibari” refers to “an unshakable iron grip”. The three used together refers to “Striking from a distance to capture the soul/spirit of the opponent in an unshakable iron grip”. The soul or spirit here refers to the fighting spirit or the will to fight of the opponent(s). If this is achieved, Vashitva is as well.

The path to achieving the three concepts mentioned above and therefore Vashitva, is found in some of the themes of the year in the Bujinkan in the past 20 years. The themes I am referring to are, “Kasumi no Ho”, “Kuki Taisho” and “Menkyo kaiden”. “Kasumi no ho” refers to the “way of fog”, “Kuki taisho” refers to “the smile of the ninth demon” and Menkyo Kaiden refers to “confusing the opponent with conflicting signals”.

“Kasumi no ho” means moving in a way that causes confusion to the opponent, and hence affects either the will to fight of the opponent or causes the opponent’s plan of action and therefore the intent to falter due to induced self-doubt. “Kuki taisho” is about being so confident in one’s own ability and exuding menace without any action. This is an attitude to cultivate in oneself. This attitude is supposed to actively deter a fight or conflict from occurring because the opponent’s will to fight wilts before the fight ever begins. “Menkyo kaiden” is about messing with the opponent’s mind. This is roughly “kasumi no ho” with the will of the opponent (Kasumi no ho itself was related to physical movement). It can also be called “kuki taisho” applied repeatedly at varying intervals for varying durations. Of course, all these are layers added on top of one another, first achieve the physical and add the intellectual and emotional aspects to embellish the physical. As must be obvious by the objective of these three concepts, they lead to controlling the opponent’s will and his or her means to fight (this includes the plan of action). This is “Vashitva” 101.

I have to add here, specifically in relation to the Bujinkan system. The focus on “control” has been paramount since Hatsumi Sensei started his focus on Muto Dori from around 2018. Everything he has been teaching focuses on control. First, try to achieve complete control on oneself and then this will likely lead to control of the opponent(s). Of course, this is a wonderful concept, but frightfully hard to achieve, even just the first part about self-control. So, achievement of “Vashitva” is literally what Soke has been driving towards over the last few years.

I have one last point to consider with regard to “Vashitva”. If one can control one’s shape and size, weight and volume through the achievement of Anima, Mahima, Laghima and Garima, the first four Siddhis, one should be able to go anywhere and reach anywhere (specifically in the context of the martial arts or a fight, but in general as well). Then, that person should be able to obtain or receive anything and hence acquire anything. If one can have anything that is needed at will at and all times, through the achievement of the Siddhis of Praapti and Praakaamya, one has already achieved self-control and hence should be able to control everything and all opponents, thus achieving Vashitva. If one can control everything, then one can continue to obtain and acquire anything and thus perpetuate the ability to control one’s own mass and volume (it just means that newer means to achieve the first four Siddhis can always be discovered). This is what I was referring to when I suggested that the Siddhis are more circular rather than linear. They feed off and add to each other, completing the virtuous cycle. And this leads us to the eighth Siddhi.

Eeshitva

I have seen the meaning of this Siddhi as “the ability to force or influence anyone” or “absolute superiority” and even “the ability to restore life to the dead”. Personally, I feel all of these are underwhelming. Of course, if one can control everyone and everything, that person can indeed force or influence those under control. This is obviously absolute superiority. I will refer to the restoring of life later in this section. Also, I use the spelling as Eeshitva and not Ishitva like in many sources, as I feel that is more accurate in comparison with the spelling in vernacular Indian languages.

Eesha is another word for God. It is very similar to the word Eeshwara. Eeshwara could specifically refer to Lord Shiva or generally mean God. Eesha is also the Guardian of the North-Eastern direction. So, however it is seen, Eesha refers to God. So, Eeshitva is about achieving the ability to be like God, be it in a fight or conflict or any situation in general. In other words, to be able to lord over all problems, if not simply, everything.

The definition of Eeshitva makes it clear that it will always be a work in progress for all humans. No mortal can become a God for there is no definition of Godhood. I cannot think of any examples for Eeshitva from either daily life or the martial arts/sports worlds. Of course, one can think of martial artists like Miyamoto Musashi who never lost a duel, or Venus Williams at her peak or Dhirubhai Ambani when he grew his company with seemingly no end, to have achieved Eeshitva for a time in a given context. But this is very similar to achieving Vashitva where the aforementioned people could control all variables in a duel or on a tennis court or in the business ecosystem, for they definitely seemed to be in complete control of their respective environments. But none of them could be Godlike since they were all specialists in their respective fields, as are most people on Earth. No human can claim control on everything and hence Godhood.

The above clearly shows how Vashitva in all areas, automatically leads to Eeshitva. This is why I had mentioned earlier that I prefer to place Eeshitva as the eight Siddhi, after Vashitva, as this is a stepping stone to being Godlike.

Even though no human can likely achieve Godhood, I would to refer to concepts from Budo, which show that the pursuit of improvement and accepting natural principles are universal and guide one to at least be able to be a conduit to divine inspiration and action, even if not actual Gods.

In Budo there is a concept called “Kami Waza”. This means the technique of the Gods. It refers to moving a fight in a way that seems like one is being guided by or moved by the Gods themselves. You could say, the person who seems Godlike, has let the Gods let her or himself be controlled by the Gods. By removing oneself from the situation, space has been made in their body, mind and spirit to allow the Gods to be in control. This is to cause the opponents to no longer be able to be an opponent. The choice of words here are deliberate, I am saying the opponent no longer being able to be one, not that the opponent is defeated, hurt or affected by any malicious intent. So, for normal humans allowing for a space where Godlike movement can be achieved, that is Eeshitva on a small scale in a given context.

Image credit – “Hanuman to the Rescue – Tales of Hanuman” published by Amar Chitra Katha

Here is where I would to refer to defining Eeshitva as being able to bring people back from the dead. In reality, for humans, this is similar to protecting people from death. If one can end a conflict with the least harm to people and minimal or no loss of life, with the help of Gods if necessary, this is close to being Godlike. Weapons of deterrence in the modern world could arguably, in a twisted way, be an example of this. If one is extremely good in the context of a fight and the opponent cedes without fighting, it is a step towards Eeshitva.

In the Bujinkan, like with Vashitva, there were a couple of themes studied a few years ago that could be stepping stones towards Kami waza, or Eeshitva. One is “Jin ryu kaname omamuru” and the other is “Shingin budo”. “Jin ryu kaname omamuru” refers to being able to see the essence with the eyes of the Gods. It means being able to perceive the crux of anything almost instantly, like the Gods can. “Shingin budo” refers to moving in a martial way while being guided by the brilliant artistry of the Gods. This means one’s martial movement seems to be awesome like that of the Gods or at least like one is guided by them.

Both of the above emphasize that one can be Godlike only by allowing the Gods to either control them or more appropriately by one allowing oneself to be a conduit for the Gods. This means that one’s perception is so on the dot or martial movement is that incredibly good, that it seems they are a vessel for the Gods. This begs the question how does one allow oneself to be a conduit for the Gods?

The Bujinkan system, time and again has emphasized that advanced practitioners should learn to unlearn, and strive to achieve self-control to control Uke (opponent). This means one should not be fixated on techniques and how they are done and should learn to adapt the same to the scenario. There is no need to be traditional and one should not celebrate a collection of techniques for their own sake. These should be a guide to natural movement. Natural movement just means doing the best thing that can be done in a given situation. This in turn means, one should be able to let go of intentions, plans, ego and emotions relating to a given scenario. This allows “Natural movement”. And when one is fully able to move naturally, one can hopefully find the best solutions at great speed, and this is akin to being guided by the Gods.

An example from Indian culture for letting go of oneself is how Lord Krishna does the only thing that is possible in his wars against Jarasandha. He did not fear disrepute when he ran away from the battlefield against Kaala Yavana, who in turn followed him to his death in a cave (this is a story beyond this article). He also decided to move his entire city state far away from Jarasandha’s neighbourhood and eventually Jarasandha was also slain off the battlefield. Using his ego against him was a big part of this, but again, this story is beyond the scope of this article.

Of course, just because the concepts exist, does not mean the path does. These concepts are difficult to practice to the point of impossibility, let alone achieve. And that brings me to end of this long winded look at the connections, from a personal perspective, between the classical Ashta Siddhi from Hindu culture and the concepts of Budo, specifically the Bujinkan system of martial arts.

Notes:

1. I sometimes use Bujinkan and Budo interchangeably. It is not really correct. But it is pretty representative. Apologies for this and a big thanks to my readers for bearing with me on this.

2. **Intuitive abilities are pretty synonymous with “mindfulness”

3. *** An example of this would be when Hanuman flew across the sea to Lanka and then to the Himalayas and back. Of course, this is an example of a God displaying a fantastic act, and not something that can ever be expected of humans.

4. I cannot think of any direct examples from stories in Hindu culture for Praapti and Praakaamya, without some personal interpretation being added. Praapti could be when Hanuman received the revelation of his forgotten powers from Jambawan exactly when he needed to be able to cross the sea to Lanka. Another example of Praapti that comes to mind is, when Yudishtira was distraught at not having starting capital for performing the Ashwamedha Yajna after the Kurukshetra war, Sage Veda Vyasa easily solved his problem by revealing the location of buried treasure that could pay for the entire enterprise. Thus, in both cases, Hanuman and Yudishtira had put themselves in a position where they could “receive” (obtain) exactly the solution they needed at the exact time when they needed it.

5. An example of Vashitva that comes to mind is that of Ravana. His capabilities were such that he could order the Sun around! When Hanuman was on his mission to bring the Sanjeevini plant to heal Lakshmana before the morning of the next day, Ravana ordered the Sun to rise earlier! Presumably to cause the temperature change to kill Lakshmana. This is control on a GRAND scale! But then, Hanuman, imprisoned the Sun temporarily to foil that! That is Eeshtiva, if ever there was an example of one.