[ఫిలిస్ గ్రనాఫ్ (Phyllis E. Granoff) యేల్ యూనివర్సిటీలో ప్రపంచ మతధర్మ పరిశోధనలలో లెక్స్ హిక్సన్ పీఠాధిపతిగా, రెలిజియస్ స్టడీస్ విభాగంలో ఆచార్యులుగా,పనిచేస్తున్నారు. రాడ్‌క్లిఫ్ కాలేజి నుంచి బి.ఏ., ఆ పైన భారతీయ మతసాంప్రదాయాలపై సిద్ధాంత వ్యాసంతో హార్వర్డ్ యూనివర్సిటీ నుంచి పిహెచ్.డీ పొందిన గ్రనాఫ్ ఎన్నో పుస్తకాల రచయిత, జర్నల్ ఆఫ్ ఇండియన్ ఫిలాసఫీకి పరిష్కర్త, జైన సంస్కృతీ పరిరక్షణ సమితికి ముఖ్య సలహాదారు కూడా.]

It is difficult for me to imagine that there was actually a time before I knew Narayana Rao. It seems as if he has always been my guide and model, ever since I began studying India. No doubt I knew him first from his writings. I remember when I read his eye-opening essays, ‘Epics and Ideologies: Six Telugu Folk Epics‘ in Stuart Blackburn and A.K. Ramanujan, Another Harmony: New Essays on the folklore of India (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1986, pp 131-165), and ‘A Ramayana of Their Own: Women’s Oral Tradition in Telugu’, in Many Rāmāyaṇās: The Diversity of a Narrative Tradition in South Asia, edited by Paula Richman, (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1991, pp 114-136). Each of these works, in different ways, changed the way I thought about my material. The essays on the Telugu epics and the women’s Rāmāyaṇa songs gave me a glimpse of a world of literature that I did not even know existed. Trained as a Sanskritist, I realized through these essays the importance of the study of vernacular literature and came to gain a sense of the richness and diversity of the Indian cultural heritage. These articles also reinforced for me the need to ground my study of texts in a consideration of such factors as gender, caste, and the occupations of the people who constituted their primary audiences. I would continue to be inspired by these essays as I worked on the Sanskrit epics and later on vernacular versions of the epics, the Oriya Mahābhārata and most recently, the Jain Rāmāyaṇas.

Here is just one example. The Jain Rāmāyaṇas would seem to have been hesitant about Rāma’s decision to banish Sītā. They offer an entirely different reason for his actions: he doubts Sītā’s faithfulness because of a plot cooked up by Sītā’s jealous co-wives. The co-wives badger Sītā about Rāvaṇa, demanding to know what he looks like. The chaste Sītā replies that she never lifted her eyes from his feet and so cannot answer. Persistent, the co-wives demand that Sītā at least show them what Rāvaṇa’s feet looked like. She obliges and paints his feet. The wicked co-wives take the painting to Rāma, as proof that Sītā has been unfaithful and is really in love with Rāvaṇa, worshiping his feet every day. I would have mistakenly thought this whole episode a uniquely Jain interlude but for Narayana Rao’s essay on women’s songs. Narayana Rao tells a story about Śūrpanakhā, disguised as a hermit, demanding of Sītā that she paint a picture of Rāvaṇa. As in the Jain stories, Sītā can only paint his feet, but Śūrpanakhā completes the picture and enlivens it, with disastrous results. It is the gift of Narayana Rao’s work that he shows us that there is so much to learn about this literature, it is truly as inexhaustible as are his vast learning and energy!

For many years now I have also been occupied with the study of religious biographies or hagiographies, particularly Jain biographies of the Tīrthaṅkaras and the leading monks. For my own translations, Narayana Rao’s masterpiece, Śiva’s Warriors: Basava Purana of Palkuriki Somanatha (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1990) has served as the model. His translation sparkles with a wit and humor that enliven the sometime deadly purpose of the actors whose deeds the text glorifies. In thinking about Jain interactions with other religious groups, particularly Śaivas, I have found this translation invaluable. Like the articles on the epic, this text taught me much about how stories are crafted and used in medieval India. I learned that if the Jains told stories of a monk miraculously smashing the Śiva liṅga, from which an image of the true god, the Jina, emerges, the Basava Purāṇa had its own version of the miraculous destruction of Jain holy sites by earnest devotees of Śiva. Without Narayana Rao’s translation this important text would have remained completely inaccessible to me and I would have had a very greatly reduced understanding of inter-religious conflict and the stories religious groups told about their rivals.

I return again and again to Narayana Rao’s works, to these and to his other works, to his translations of poetry and to his many scholarly essays, and not only in my own scholarship, but also in my teaching. It is probably not an exaggeration to say that every course I have taught in recent years has included something by Narayana Rao. In my seminar on Traditional Literature of Asia, we have read both God on the Hill: Temple Songs from Tirupati (Oxford University Press, 2005)and When God is a Customer: Telugu Courtesan Songs by Ksetrayya and Others ( Berkeley, 1994). In a freshman seminar on Śiva we read selections from the Basava purāṇa. Narayana Rao has always been present in my classes through his writings.

But if I was amazed by the power of his written work, I still could not have imagined the power of his actual physical presence. I first met Narayana Rao at a conference in Israel. His infectious laughter and love of literature were absolutely contagious. I came away from our conversations renewed and eager to plunge into some new idea, some new project that had been born from our casual chats. Generous in sharing his learning, Narayana Rao has another very important trait. Either he also suffers badly from jet lag or he is simply an early riser, and we were often the only two at breakfast, when I could have him all to myself. He is a born teacher, and I continue to cherish the occasions on which we meet. A few minutes with Narayana Rao is always enough to dispel whatever gloom I may be feeling. There is always something exciting, something wonderful and enriching that he tells me about. Impossible to be depressed when there is so much to read and learn! I don’t know anyone else who has ever had such an effect on me; teacher, friend, guide, inspiration, Narayana Rao has kept me thinking, working, and most importantly, loving Indian literature.