 Good morning everybody. My name is Foni Nuba and I'm, as you all know, not a specialist at all in JANISM, but still it is a great pleasure for me to step in as an emergency chairman and chair this first session this morning. So everybody has half an hour, I suppose. The idea is 20 minutes talk and 10 minutes discussion if I see this correctly. And I, it's my great pleasure to ask Prof. Broncos, Prof. Emeritus of the Université de Luzan to open our first session with this paper, two uses of an anecarta guarda. I wonder where the money is in this paper. So the first thing I have to do is thank Peter Flugel to give me space in this session to talk about a topic whose link with JANISM and money is perhaps not immediately visible and is, as a matter of fact, a little bit remote. However, thinking about JANISM and money, inevitably one thinks also of AHINSA which often is considered a central concept, a central belief of JANISM and one may easily believe that also JAN philosophy in general will deal with this issue prominently. Well, maybe it does, but one aspect of JAN philosophy which is sometimes called the central idea of JAN philosophy is anecarta guarda. And as it so happens in recent years many people from the JAN community have tried to explain anecarta guarda as an expression of AHINSA in one form or another and my primary goal this morning is to try to convince you that there is no such link. I have another preliminary observation. If you, like me, have received the JAN studies yesterday and have looked at the articles you will see that there is one article on page 46, different interpretations of anecarta guarda by Melanie Barbato, the person whom I don't know, but whose book has come out last year and to which I've only gained access a number of weeks ago. Hers is a study of anecarta guarda in the history of JANISM which by and large makes the same distinctions which I will propose. So in a certain way my paper is now superfluous and I think you can look upon what I'm going to present you as illustrations of some of the points which for further details you may like to consult the book by Melanie Barbato as I said that came out last year and it is called JAN approaches to plurality identity as dialogue. Okay, to illustrate the new attitude towards or the new in fact Barbato shows that this started roughly in the 19th century the idea that anecarta guarda is essentially an expression of non-violence in the realm of philosophy I will cite one author, Nagin Shah, who expressed it in the following words the highest goal of all systems of Indian philosophy is liberation for the attainment of this goal they have prescribed their respective spiritual disciplines which do not differ much from one another. In all these spiritual disciplines the practiser is necessarily required to cultivate five prime virtues, non-violence, truth, non-theft, celibacy and non-possession and among these five non-violence is supreme and fundamental. It is so fundamental that the rest depends on it and there are is included in it not only that but it provides us with the sole criterion for determining as to what is truth etc. That which involves violence is not truth even though it may be factually true and conversely that which does not involve violence is truth even though it may be factually untrue. Well, so he goes on and I won't bother you with too much of it but he says it is this spirit that has given rise to the theory of anecarta guarda he's one among a number of modern giant authors who like to identify anecarta guarda with agenza non-violence or see in it let's say philosophical expression of it yes I should read a few more words from this passage from Nagin Ja one should be very cautious in one statement of one's view one should qualify one statement by this is my faith this is my view etc. implying thereby that others may have different faith or view well I think this does not cover the historical facts as we know them and the most interesting way to hear giant philosophers express themselves about their philosophy in contrast with the philosophy as others is a number of inscriptions that have been found primarily in Sherawna Bel-Golam and there we hear the voice of a number of philosophers and I will just mention a few of them and what they say of their own debating techniques and what they wanted with their philosophical expositions one is Vakragriva who overcame the crowd of orators by his power of speech so that the disputants in this world were bent in shame now this becomes quite typical in also the following passages I'll read to you there are almost there is an aggressive tone in them there is warlike terminology it is all about destroying the opponent putting him to absolute shame and ruin which I propose is hardly the spirit that according to certain modern Jainas is the spirit behind Anikantavada so Akalanka describes himself as the destroyer of the whole pride of scholars and he defeated the Baudhas, the Buddhists at the court of some king Vimalachandra subdued the pride of all disputants and challenged the Shaivas, the Pashupadas, the Baudhas, the Kapalikas and others Vadi Kanthirava ruined the opponents by refuting their views now there are lots of examples like this they become almost monotonous to read them out but it is always the same spirit I, Jain thinker, Jain philosopher, I am going to destroy you ruin you, put you to absolute shame and so on Heimasena, he says, whoever inflated by his practice in logic and grammar and by his wisdom competes with me in disputation before learned umpires in the presence of kings on that scholar I shall inevitably inflict a thorough defeat which cannot be measured in words and one more Akalanka Zhou O'King, he addresses the king, don't know which one are known here on earth to be skilled in subduing the arrogance of all the enemies so am I so am I famed on this earth as the destroyer of the whole pride of scholars so as the king carries out his violent acts, his warlike acts so the debater, the Jain philosopher carries out warlike acts with respect to his opponents and this is not only the test that in inscriptions we find it also in narrative literature how Jain debaters one here I read out a little passage well in fact there is little time so I won't even read it out you got the general idea the claim that anekantavade is an embodiment and philosophical expression of ahinsa, non-violence is hard to uphold in the light of such testimonies and in fact if you read the book by the lady I mentioned earlier you will find that this whole idea is unknown to the Jain literature until the 19th century it was a new way of interpreting anekantavade but one which is not so easy to uphold in face of the evidence the question therefore is what then was anekantavade for, what was it an expression of and in fact once again I'm not the first or certainly not the only one to emphasize that there are two different uses of anekantavade in the history of Jainism roughly precise chronology may not be possible but roughly until the year 500 there is one use of anekantavade and in subsequent centuries there is another one the earlier use of anekantavade deals with what people like Matilal have called the paradox of causality and in fact this is a topic which I have elaborated in some publications which I have shown to be an issue not only in Jainism but in all Indian philosophies of the period that is and which gave rise to a number of different answers in different schools in outside Jainism as well as inside Jainism outside Jainism there is doctrines like Satkarivade or Shunivade, Ajativade and others that can all be construed, understood as responses to one single set of problems now what was the central problem? it had to do with the link between language and reality and if I say a potter makes a pot then you will say okay that describes a situation in which there is a potter there is an activity of making but obviously there is no pot because otherwise you wouldn't have to make it the problem is that apparently all Indian philosophers of a certain period were convinced that a true statement would have to consist of elements corresponding to the words of the statement that means they would say the potter makes a pot if it is true requires that there be a potter, an activity of making and a pot and so for them there was a problem there was a problem because clearly in our experience is no pot and some went to quite a great extent to somehow create a vision of reality that would accommodate this fact they would say perhaps that our experience is therefore not reliable in reality there is a pot or as in the Satkarivade there is a pot but only in the form of clay it still has to take its shape but it all tried to find a pot in the situation described by the potter makes a pot now Anakantavade deals, among other things, also with this particular situation because it says and I will not use my own words but the words of Jinnabhadra and he says in this world there are things that are being produced having been produced already others are being produced not having been produced already others are being produced having been produced and not having been produced others again are being produced while being produced and some are not being produced at all according to what one wishes to express For example, and he takes the same example as the one I just gave you, a pot is having been produced in the form of clay, et cetera, because it is made of that. That same pot is being produced, not having been produced, concerning its particular shape, because that was not there before. If you're not prepared in the beginning when I read such passages, they look to me like a lot of gobbledygook. And in fact, to me, they didn't start making sense until I thought, and I'm convinced I have, arrived as identifying the presuppositions underlying it. Once you think that indeed, through statement, the words must correspond to items in reality, you see that there is a problem, and that Gin and Padre here, and so many other philosophers of that period, they write things that at first sight to us, moderns make no sense at all, but they start making sense once we keep in mind this presupposition, which they try to somehow make fit reality. So, of course, there are many authors, giant authors who use this kind of plural approach to reality, as you know. And again, I will not bother you with that. As I said, there is a second use of Annikaantavade, which started roughly after the middle of the first millennium. And that is where giant thinkers start looking at other philosophies in the light of Annikaantavade. It becomes a way of categorizing different philosophies, non-giant philosophies. And this allowed, of course, the thinkers to say, these other philosophies are partially true, but not fully true. They correspond to some partial truth, but only the full understanding we have through our Annikaantavade. This pops up, as I say, later than the earlier form of Annikaantavade, and becomes, well, finds expression in a number of important texts, and others before me have, of course, observed this particular use of Annikaantavade. There are famous texts like the Vadasjara Naya Chakra of Malawadin. Extremely difficult to read, but the general idea is clear enough. There are so many nayas and points of view, and different philosophies of Brahmanical Buddhist philosophies, they fit into these different boxes, but they're all partially true and not fully true. OK, since time is very limited, I will say a few more words about this break. Well, I don't know how hard of a break it was, but we do know that in the history of Indian philosophy, things become quite different in the second half after the middle of the first millennium. Once again, this has been observed for Jainism by Balcerowitz and also by Anklavel with respect to certain issues. With respect to Indian philosophy in general, it has been observed by Vincent Elchinger, who points out that at some point, all of a sudden, philosophers start interacting much more intensely and much more aggressively, roughly from the second half of the first millennium onward. This, of course, raises questions as to why this happened. And as Elchinger has rightly pointed out, this probably has social or sociopolitical reasons, which remain for the time being obscure. But I think that my story about Anikantavada has to be and confirms this particular vision of the development of Indian thought. So I sum up. I stop here. Three points I wish to make. There are two ways in which Anikantavada was used. One, to deal with the problem of causality. Subsequently, mainly to deal with other philosophical systems known to the Jainas. And there was one way in which it was not used, namely to show a spirit of nonviolence with respect to other thinkers. OK, thank you very much. And I can now ask our second speaker, Professor Trinaki from the old capital of France, Luc Dunum from Lyon, to read her paper, A Successful Investment. And now we really come to money. Jain merchants and the transmission of long medieval narratives. A first remark to begin with. As I began to prepare this paper, I found so much material on this financing of long Jain manuscripts that I decided to focus my presentation on that theme only and change a bit the title, as you can see here. As it is well known, Jain bandhas are replete with literary treasures of the past. Among them, there are many short texts, but not only. The manuscript kept in Jain bandhas reveal that at the instigation of Jain monks, merchants commissioned several works of monumental size counting from more than 7,000 grandtas, that is multiplied by 32 syllables, to about 19,000 grandtas. In the list of those long works transmitted between the 11th and 14th centuries, two main type of texts can be found. Hopefully, if we could just. Yes. On the one hand, there are commentaries of canonical texts or treasuries of edifying stories. On the other hand, there are many copies of extensive and elaborate romances or novels in different Indian languages. Prakrit, Sanskrit, and in various forms, prose, verse, and a mixed form of prose and verse called shampoo. While it is clear that both types of works were considered as masterpieces of Jain literature and that they were copied for religious purposes, it is not clear how much money was required to have them copied. That is why I will try at present to examine this question and propose some hypothesis by comparing the data from various medieval sources, such as manuscript color phones, chronicles, and lineage records. To evaluate how much money is involved in the copying of long manuscripts is not an easy question. As a matter of fact, discretion is one of the qualities expected from the donor. Thus, in the first of my sources, Jain color phones, they are only imprecise indications as regards the charitable expenses met by donors who commission or buy manuscripts. For instance, in Vikramasamwad 1218, after having earned the necessary amount of money for the manuscript, the businessman called Shobana Deva had the Kalpatroni comprising 16,000 grandtas copied by a scribe named Sohada for his teacher, Jeana Badra. However, several harder data of the Jain color phones contribute to revealing that it was a very expensive business affordable only for influential merchants. To begin with, the donors who commissioned long manuscripts are members of prestigious lineage, Prakvatas, Shremalis, Osvalds, and how the position of lots of the assembly in pilgrimages sangha party. Furthermore, the evidence of the color phones suggests that the same families who commissioned manuscripts financed at the same time religious monuments. For instance, it is said that the same merchants, Kula Chandra, belonging to the Osvald lineage, had shrines for the Jeanas built on Mount Girna in Vikramasamwad 1328 and purchased two years before in Vikramasamwad 1326 for his spouse Ketu, a manuscripts of the story of King Pritvi Chandra, which shown as a homage to knowledge like a lamp set with jewels. In addition, on several occasions, the color phone emphasized the material beauty of the manuscript, which is also an indicator of the fortunes spent by the merchants for its production. It is indeed a precious object with its elegant calligraphy and costly illuminations as described in the color phone of Deva Chandra Santina Charia. With its lines nicely drawn and its leaf-like ornaments, this book gleams in the hand of scholars. It is indeed as charming as a bracelet with its clasp. Consequently, while color phones do not provide clear evidence of the cost of long manuscripts, they are replete with details hinting at the fact that manuscript production was enormously expensive. Now, to evaluate more precisely the cost of a long manuscript, I will turn to other sources dating from the 13th, 14th century, the Prabhandas, which, along with the life of famous kings and teachers, convey rich information on medieval religious and social life. As a matter of fact, contrary to color phones, the Prabhandas are not sparing with detailed facts and figures, mostly calculated in dramas. Three passages directly refer to the expenses incurred for copying manuscripts. The first passage occurs in the Prabhandakosha, composed by Rajasekara, in 1349. The authors give their list of the meritorious deeds accomplished by the merchant and minister Vastupala during the first half of the 13th century and makes account of the huge sums of money is spent in diverse places, and particularly on the great holy places, Shatrunjaya, Yerna and Abu as follow. In Shatrunjaya, 18 courtes and 96 lax. In Guernar, 12 courtes, 80 lax. In Abu, 12 courtes, 35 lax. In Brigupura, two courtes. And at the end of this enumeration, he mentions the amount of money spent on manuscripts by Vastupala. 18 courtes of dramas were spent for having books of the Jain tradition written down. In spite of this brief indication, and even if the mentioned figures may be inflated in order to praise the minister Vastupala, the presence of such a notice as a kind of invoice is of a peculiar interest. In so far, as it highlights the fact that the total sum for manuscripts is given as equivalent to the expenditure for the most sacred holy place for the Shvetambaras and suggests that the building of a Jain literary legacy was then as important as that of Jain monuments, which is quite credible in the light of the number of manuscripts that have come down to us. The second passage appears among the anonymous and undated prabandhas that have been collected by Jina Vijaya in his book entitled Puratana Prabandhasam Graha. To have manuscripts of the nine canonical commentaries composed by Abhaya Deva written down, the goddess Shrutadevi, dropped in the preaching an assembly, a necklace made of gold inlaid with precious stones. This necklace was shown everywhere, but nobody could propose a prize for it. King Bhimadeva gave them then three lakhs of dramas and had copies written and given to all the teachers of the region. The passage is interesting because this time it brings in the enormous sum of three lakhs of dramas as a standard set by the king himself for the copy of a specific body of text with a precise extent. The ones mentioned here are the nine commentaries of a scribe to Abhaya Deva, famous teacher of the 11th century. They are as follows. So as you see the precise extent in red, in this particular case, it is possible to establish that the price of three lakhs of dramas corresponds to a work of about 50,000 grandtas. So that is about 1,000 palm leaf folios at an average rate of 45 or 50 grandtas for each folio. However, several factors remain unknown. Indeed, with an imprecise formulation such as copies were presented to all the teachers of the region, it is unclear how many copies were meant. Nothing is told either about the number of copies involved in this task. It will be necessary to consult other sources to get further answers, as we will see a little later. The third passage occurs in the Prabhava Kacharita, composed by the teacher Prabhachandra in 1277. The author indicates the amount of money spent for the famous grammar of the teacher Himachandra comprising 12,500 grandtas, which, according to tradition, had been undertaken at the request of King Kumarapala. The king put at this position three lakhs of dramas to have the manuscript written over a year. On his orders, officers of all the regions of the kingdom sent for 300 copyists whom they welcomed with respect and asked them to copy manuscript. A copy was given to each of the religious representatives who were keen to study it. Thereafter, the king humbly sent to Kashmir 20 copies of his grammar, which had each their inventory record. This passage takes up the sum of three lakhs of drama for the copy of 12,500 grandtas and adds two pieces of information, one on the number of persons employed in this task, 300 copyists hired on the order of the king, and one on the time it requires, one year. Supposing that each scribe was in charge of one copy, it would imply that a work of about 12,000 grandtas would take a year to be written by a scribe. If we assume then that the three lakhs of dramas allowed to pay for 300 copy, it would mean that the copy of a work of 12,500 grandtas, that is about 300 folios, worked out at the price of about 1,000 dramas for each manuscript. That is about three dramas for each folio, including material and the salary of the copyist. In order to put this hypothesis to the test and evaluate more closely the data given by the Prabhandals, I will explore now a third type of source that is inscription and lineage records. Indeed, from this type of sources, it is possible to know more about the wages of a copyist as compared to that of a laborer. Thus, in the 13th century, while a laborer seems to have got only five Vim Chopaka a day, that is to say 7.5 dramas a month, which was probably just sufficient for everyday life, there is evidence that an officiate earned nine dramas a month along with daily food. In the light of those salaries, the wages of a professional scribe, which is stated in the Puratana Prabhandasam Graha, that is two dramas a day or 60 dramas a month, is plausible and would suggest that members of this corporation enjoyed a high status in the society. However, it is necessary to qualify this assertion. Indeed, on the one hand, other Indian sources attest to the fact that variations could be high from one craftsman to another. On the other hand, the wages of a scribe were not always calculated by the day, but rather by the number of completed grantas, each one having 32 syllables or of lines comprising 50 letters as observed by Porter. The price is fixed for every 1,000 lines. 50 letters make a couplet, and thus 1,000 lines make 50,000 letters of the alphabet. As a consequence, time spent to produce a manuscript copy was also an important factor in the calculation of the costs involved. Finally, apart from the income, the commissioner of a manuscript had to provide food and lodging for the scribe and also to meet the costs of all writing material, including ink and palm leaves. As it is, for example, clearly stated in the color phone of the Bhuvana Sundari composed by Vijaya Sima in 1,053. The merchant Gopaditya from Sumeshwara covered the expenses of a mata for the giant community and paid for the food, clothing, and palm leaves of the monk writer. Yet the price of the material necessary for copying, as well as the number of the copies executed for a work and the production rate of making copies or pieces of information that are hardly noticeable in the epigraphical sources as well as in the texts. That is why I will now try to crush check information taken from medieval other cultures. Giant works produced between the 11th and 14th century were written on palm leaves. However, from our sources, it is impossible to make out the price of a leaf. All we can do is to compare the ratios for the amount of money given for the material and the copies we find in Persian and Thai sources. Thus, as noted by Braque de la Perrière and Fonny Nuber, the respective costs of paper and palm leaves appear to be very different in daily, while the ratio between palm leaf material and the work of the copies is one to one. But the ratio for the Pali manuscripts is one to six. Until further information becomes available, we can keep this ratio for the cost of palm leaves in medieval India. As for the rate of production, a large variation appear in the medieval world between different cultures as well as inside the same culture. In the Indian world, there is no clear evidence on the production rate. However, two pieces of information should be taken into account. In the 18th century, on the basis of its long-term experience, Kalmet counted about one year for copying a Vedam of 1,200 folios. Besides, even when copyists used the same material and lived in the same milieu, as Fonny Nuber explains for the Pali manuscript in Thailand, the rate of copying could vary by four times as much. That is to say, from less than a page a day up to four pages a day. Given that this data are in perfect correspondence with the average ratio of two pages a day, that is 40 lines of text given by Derosh for the Arabic medieval manuscripts, we can keep as a working hypothesis a rate of copy ranging from one folio a day up to three folio a day. Consequently, evidence collected from various sources suggests the following hypothesis for the cost of copying a long manuscript between the 11th and 14th century. Wages of about 1,000 dramas a year for a scribe, a ratio of 1 to 6 for palm leaves and of 5 to 6 for the income, and a production rate of copying ranging from one to three folio a day. Of course, this data are deemed to be only indicative and may greatly vary depending on specific characteristics. For instance, apart from the borrowing of the original manuscript from remote regions, the cost of the copy could rapidly increase with the services of renown scribed and illuminators, as well as with the use of precious material. On the basis of this hypothesis, I will just show you to end how we can reconsider the figures found in the Prabanda. In the case of Ema Chandra's drama, we had a sum of three lakhs to copy a work of 12,000 grandtas and the hiring of 300 scribe. Then it implies the wages of 1,000 drama for each copy, 300 folio, 1, 6 for the material equal 150 drama, and 850 drama as wages would be two dramas a day, which confirm the sum of two drama a day mentioned above. Lastly, as regards the nine commentaries of Habaya Deva, we said that there are 300,000 dramas and 50,000 grandtas. That is about 1,000 folios. If we build on the previous example, that amount of money is sufficient to produce 75 copies, each work worth 4,000 dramas. And counting 600 dramas for 1,000 folio would leave 3,400 drama for the scribe. So in sum, the Prabanda's confirmed the detail provided by color phones, according to which manuscript production commissioned by Jane Merchants on the order of Jane Monks was a very expensive matter until at least the 14th century. And they also provide figures that allow us with the help of other sources to offer hypothesis on the amount of money spent for copying manuscripts during that period. Besides, it appears that the association of laymen and monks with a manuscript production and purchase contributed to reinforce the cohesion and identity of the Jane community in the mixed society of medieval India. At the same time as it contributed to the richness of the Jane bundles, the treasury of which filled everyone with admiration until today. Thank you. Well, as you have heard already, the next speaker, Alexandra Restivo, cannot be with us. And first of all, we wish her a quick recovery. But her paper will nevertheless be read out. It is entitled, Disentingly Poetry from Profit in Jane Monks Literary Works. Please. Thank you, Professor Von Inuga. I will try to read this paper as slowly and clearly as I can since we don't need to worry about the Q&A section here. But if anybody would like to email questions to Sasha, I'm sure she would appreciate them. And if you want her email address, I'd be happy to provide it for you. So this paper looks at the instances in medieval Jane literature that demonstrate how Shwetambara monks attempted to uncouple the production of poetry by court poets from the monetary rewards of the patron. The malleable and complex relationships between kings and poets in the Indian context have been an important subject of scholarly thought. For instance, Phyllis Granov translates and examines certain medieval biographies of poets in order to demonstrate that poets were often imagined as morally superior to their patrons and as possessing a considerable measure of freedom, despite their apparent financial dependence on the patron. David Shulman discusses the explicit hostility of the Tamil Bhakti poets toward the practice of praising a king in order to secure patronage. He shows that the poets eventually resolve the tension between their loyalties to a king and a god by either seeing God through their royal patron or placing the king in the position of a humble devotee. More recently, Larry McCrae and Yigal Brauner have observed that a court poet's eulogy of the king is not always as praiseworthy as one would expect it to be and belies a more complicated relationship between the poet and his royal patron. McCrae and Brauner have argued that in his Vikramanka Devacharita, the 11th century poet Bilhanna, does not in fact extol King Vikramaditya but employs a certain narrative and structural devices to level a measure of criticism at him. McCrae draws our attention to Bilhanna's verses about the critical role of poets in crafting king's reputations. The verses suggest that it is, quote, poetry and poetry alone that allies at the root of our moral evaluation of figures such as Rama and Ravana. We find a similar example in a 13th century court epic called the Vasante Vilasa of the Shwetambara monk poet Balachandra who is patronized by the ministers Vastupala and Tejpala in Gujarat. Balachandra must have been familiar with the works of Bilhanna. As Bilhanna had stayed in the Chowluqya court during the reign of King Karna I who reigned from 1064 to 1093 and composed the Karna Sundari under his patronage. Moreover, Balachandra's fellow court poet Someshwara mentions Bilhanna in his court epics called the Kirti Kaumudi. Balachandra states that if poets did not produce stories about kings, not even scholars would have known the names of Rama and other monarchs. But then he adds, quote, poets delight in king's good conduct, not generous donations. Did the first poet, Valmiki, ever get anything from Rama, moon of the world? The verse suggests that Rama did in fact possess the virtue of righteousness or good conduct and that is the reason why Valmiki extolled him in the Ramayana, not wealth or other material benefits. Thus, Balachandra objects to what McCray argues is the latent message of the Vikramankadeva Charita, the idea that kingly virtue does not exist outside of the poetic imagination and is fashioned and presented to the public for a monetary reward. McCray posits that according to Bilhanna, quote, if only Ravana had had the foresight to employ Valmiki himself, end quote, we would be considering Ravana as the role model and not Rama. Contrary to his interpretation of Bilhanna's epic, Balachandra appears to insist that it is Rama's virtue alone, the propelled Valmiki, to compose an epic or Mahakavya, eulogizing him. In doing so, Balachandra implies that he also has genuine motives in crafting an impeccable image of Vastupala and that he is not doing it simply for material reward. In discussions about the goals of poetry, Sanskrit theorists do not always agree with one another. The 11th century Kashmiri scholar Mamata famously suggests that there are other, sorry, that there are the following goals or prayogenas for the production of poetry. They are fame, wealth, knowledge of the world, removal of evil, immediate and highest happiness, and the counsel of a lover. In composing his Kavyanushasana, Hemachandra heavily relied on Mamata's Kavya Prakashya, among other works such as those of Abhinavagupta. Gary Tubb rightly describes Hemachandra's Kavyanushasana as an amalgamation of the earlier and contemporaneous ideas. Hemachandra did not aim to create a novel conception of aesthetic experience or introduce considerable changes into the discipline of dramaturgy, expounded in Bharata's Natya Syaathra in the early centuries of the common era. This suggests that where Hemachandra chose to deviate from earlier sources must have been a matter of great importance to him. One of the distinctions that we find in Hemachandra's texts pertains specifically to the goals of poetry. Hemachandra disagrees that wealth or dhana should be included in the list of poetic goals, as poetry does not guarantee money, anaykanthikam or vyabhichari. To Hemachandra, joy, ananda, fame, yashas, and counsel of a lover constitute the three goals of poetry. A later Jane author named Vagbhatta, who lived in circa 13th, 14th centuries and also named his own work on poetics, the Kavyanushasana, took Hemachandra's words even further. Vagbhatta states that while others consider pleasure the removal of evil, knowledge of the worldly ways, acquisition of the threefold fruit of dharma, arta, and kama, counsel of a lover and fame to be the causes of poetry, he believes that only fame is its true cause, he writes. But I consider only fame alone to be the cause of poetry because pleasure is indeed easy to get through prosperity and the like. The removal of evil concerns through other means, the knowledge of worldly ways, through Chanakya's arta-shastra and other sciences, the acquisition of the threefold fruit by serving a teacher or God and doing penance, i.e. dharma, by engaging in different types of business, that is wealth or arta, and by talking et cetera with your beloved, i.e. love or kama, and the counsel of a lover may or may not occur. Therefore, the cause of poetry is fame alone. And that comes from the auto commentary. Vagbhate rejects the inclusion of the three ends of man into the poetry goals and states that wealth, as one of them, must be attained through other means, such as work and business. Vagbhate then states that the audience's interests are out of the picture here, as fame pertains only to the poet, while the counsel of a lover or joy are the benefits that the audience receives in the course of watching a drama or listening to a poem. Fame was recognized as a valuable asset in a variety of ways. For instance, for the 12th century, jain monk Ramachandra, fame, not money, was a prerequisite of independence. While independence, as I have argued elsewhere, well, as Sasha has argued elsewhere, appears to be one of the highest values for him. He inserts a final value in all of his six extant dramas that glorifies independence, that is a state of self-reliance. In the Raghuvilasa Nataka, or rather, Rama's adventures, Rama declares that he has obtained glorious freedom or Satyantriya Lakshmi. In the Malika Prakarana, or Malika and Makaranda, he plays on his own name, which incorporates the word Rama, lovely, and the word for the moon Chandra, as a standard simile for something that is white and establishes a link between independence and fame. Joyfully, quote, by the grace of the Lord Jinnah, attaining supreme glorious fame, that is as white as the rays of the lovely moon, or the fame of Ramachandra, and as white as a jasmine petal, may you enjoy long independence. Sorry, may you long enjoy independence. In his Kamudi Mitra Nanda Prakarana, or Kamudi Mitra Nanda, the final verse reads in a similar manner, with the same play on Ramachandra's name and the moon. In this instance, the metaphor is extended. The rays of the moon are said to be cooling, relieving the torment of the heat of the sun. Ramachandra's words help also to relieve suffering, quote, united with your wife and friends, having achieved supreme and glorious fame, that is as white as the rays of the lovely moon, or the deeds of Ramachandra, and as a balm for suffering, may you long enjoy independence. Similarly, the final verses of Ramachandra's Satya Harishchandra Nataka, Nala Vilasa Nataka, and Nirbhaya Bhima Vya Yoga, each end with the injunction, be independent, Satantro Bhava, which he also associates with the attainment of fame, Yashas. Fame, as he suggests, precedes and promises freedom from dependence on others, that Ramachandra establishes a connection between fame and independence, may reflect a nature in which a poet's fate was in the hands of his patron, often the king. And, while the patron's donations may end at any moment, fame will always stay with the poet and protect him even after his death. Ramachandra becomes particularly critical of those who are after the king's money in the hymns of praise ascribed to him. In his Nami Jinnastava, he states, quote, and this is a long quotations, bear with me. He is the poet who makes a resolution, Krtaagraha, to sing your true story. Fie on those who praise only the unreal stories of women, the moon, and kings. People, wanting something, turn to kings whose miserable vow is only to humiliate others. If they turn to you instead, what could they not attain in this world? With their eyes blinded by desire, even for a little wealth, people are reduced to the contemptible state of begging from others. Some are indifferent to the purity of your teachings, while others even harbor hatred of them. Fie on them, they have lost everything. Those who have plunged into the ocean of your true knowledge still beg as if they fall at the king's feet as if pulled by heavenly iron chains, or heavy iron chains, their sighs lifted to the sky. Control of the senses and mind is even better than furthering the faith through wealth. Will this principle of your teaching not astonish even an enemy for a long time? If I have the power to conquer the mind, then what's the use of worrying about the constant misfortunes of a householder? What's the point of other teachings about making money with their talk about actions being the causes of other causes? End quote. This selection of verses tells us something about Ramachandra's views on the relationship between kings and poets. He begins by describing a true poet, not a poet who describes the loveliness of a woman whose beauty is fleeting and deluding, not a poet who sees the nectar Amrita in the moon when it is not there, and not someone who praises the king's non-existent virtues and accomplishments for money. A genuine poet, Ramachandra says, tells the true story. In this case, the story of the Jinnah name Inata. Ramachandra then proceeds to elevate the Jinnah above the king, suggesting that there is no need to ask for anything from the king because he is always bad and disrespectful and because Nemi is the one who could grant every desire. The next verse points to non-Jane court poets who have assumed the despicable roles of supplicants and are ready to adore the king and serve him in any way, even for a little money. Such poets don't recognize the Jane teaching and some of them even hate it. The following verse appears to describe Jane poets who although know about the Jane Dharma, still fawn over a king, humiliate themselves and recognize him as the highest authority. Verse 18 points to the fact that self-discipline attained through the Jane teachings generates more contentment than wealth through which one can spread the Jane faith by building temples and making pious donations. And the final verse repeats the same idea that once one can control their thoughts and emotions, he or she will not be worrying about their wealth or other mundane things. At the end of this hymn of praise, Ramachandra states that his undertaking to compose it is successful because gods don't give people fruit. What gives results is only one's inner attitude. Ramachandra uses the genre of the panagiric to express his thoughts about the poet's position at court and the relation of the poet and patron. He reproaches those who fawn over kings, compose lies about them and are willing to humiliate themselves for even a little money. In this position of Rama, sorry, this position of Ramachandra finds confirmation and in his other works. For instance, in none of his plays does he mention a patron, which is not in itself an unusual occurrence, but he does however emphasize his religious affiliation in each play by describing himself as the disciple of Hamachandra. This indicates that his loyalties were largely located in the domain of his monastic lineage. We've also seen his penchant for independence, which is further confirmed in later Prabhunda collections where Ramachandra is described as a rebel who often goes against the crowd. As such, for Ramachandra, the poet, fame, not the king's money, gives freedom and happiness. And for Ramachandra, the monk, the jain dharma, not the king's benevolence, is the best protection. I believe this hymn of praise was indeed authored by Ramachandra because we find similar ideas expressed in his other works. For instance, similar to verse two in his Malika Makaranda, the protagonist Makaranda pronounces an important verse discerning what is real, Vastava, from what is fake. Quote, others can be entertained by a fake show, but I can only be satisfied by things that are real, Vastava. Makaranda is constructing a mandala. He admits that all of these external ritual activities are meant to distract others, but he would need something real to protect himself, and that would be the Namokar Mantra. It is what is real that eventually proves to be effective and useful. The wisdom of Makaranda is not tainted by the fact that he is a thief and a gambler. In fact, we know that thieves and criminals are well-regarded in Jainism. Some of the well-known examples of Rahuneya, a thief, Nala, a gambler, and Arjunamali, a bandit. I would like to end this presentation with one more example of a thief from a story about the addiction to wealth, included in the contemporaneous 12th century Akya Manikosha of Nemi Chandrasuri. While it doesn't expand upon the relationship between poets, kings, and money, it relates what Jains say tells the true story. In this case, the story of the Jinnah Nemi. Ramachandra then proceeds to elevate the Jinnah above the king, suggesting that there is no need to ask for anything from the king because he is always bad and disrespectful, and because Nemi is the one who could grant every desire. The next verse points to non-Jain court poets who have assumed the despicable roles of supplicants and are ready to adore the king and serve him in any way, even for a little money. Such poets don't recognize the Jain teaching, and some of them even hate it. Oh, sorry. Ah, ha, ha, my bad. Sorry, here we go, all right, from eight to nine. While it doesn't expand upon the relationship between the poets, kings, and money, it relates what Jains thought about the role of wealth in people's lives, summarized in the merchant Sagrada Datta's words. There is nothing in this world that people will not tolerate out of greed for money. In the city of Kusuma, of King Damara Simha, there lived a merchant called Sagrada Datta, who was very wealthy and had a son named Gunachanda. One day, Sagrada Datta said to his son, they had gained a lot of wealth with great difficulty, but, and put it in the house, but a fire, friend, spy, king, or thief could take it away. Therefore, they needed to hide it in the ground in some empty burial ground. As such, the father and son hid the money in the ground and made a sign at that place. While doing that, they were spotted by a beggar who was sleeping nearby. He thought to himself that he would later dig out the money and enjoy the pleasures he desired. The father, though, told his son to look around and see if there was anyone in the vicinity. The son noticed the beggar lying on the ground as a dead man. He came to his dad and said that there was something sleeping like a dead man, or someone sleeping like a dead man. The son was not convinced that the man was dead and thought he is sleeping like a dead person, trying to trick us out of the desire to get our money. So he decided to test the man and cut both of his ears. After that, he went back and reported to his dad that the man was indeed dead. His dad still did not believe it and said that there was nothing living beings would not do in this world for money. So he sent the son back to confirm that the man was dead. The son then cut off the tip of his nose. This way, they knew with certainty that the man was really dead and finally went home. Sounds like a self-fulfilling prophecy. The beggar instantly took the money and hid it in a different spot. He then took a little, bought clothes and ornaments, and had fun with the courtesan Anungasena. He arranged a gathering in the best of gardens and gave donations to the poor for which he was praised. Today in the city, a new rich person was giving donations. He has holes for his nose and ears and wears beautiful silken clothes. As Sagara Dutta heard that, he realized that it was indeed the man they had seen in the burial ground. He must have taken my money. Sagara Dutta then decided to report him to the king. The man who set up the gathering today has stolen my money. He has taken everything. My Lord, stop him. The king got angry and his appointed men called the beggar to appear before the king. When he came, he told everything to the king. The king asked the merchant what the beggar took from him and the merchant replied, quote, a jar filled with golden coins, end quote. The same question the king posed to the beggar and he said, he cut my ears and nose. I took the wealth as pay for selling parts of my body. Why should I have to give it back to him? The king then addressed the merchant thus, merchant, if he gave you his ear limbs, you should pay him. Both the merchant and the thief had to go home and the thief continued enjoying his life as he wished. The merchant, however, because of the attachment to his own wealth was reborn in a lower birth after death. Karma always gets you in the end. The clever thief in the story outwits the merchant and is allowed to go on living with the stolen money. The merchant, however, is accused of being addicted to his own wealth and is said to have been reborn in lower births. The tale is one of the many Jane narratives about the consequences of greed and its messages aligned with the positions of the Jane authors discussed above. Desire for money should not lie at the heart of any undertaking. Seeing wealth as the goal of poetry is detrimental for the poets and worrying about wealth too much. As Sagara Dutta did in his story, it is also dangerous. It appears Jane monks such as Ramachandra and Balachandra use their criticism to set themselves apart from other non-Jane poets who engaged in what they suggested was the foul practice of making money from writing poetry. Ramachandra's attempt to elevate himself above the others can be also seen in the image that later Prabanda collections create for him as a rebellious and independent poet who even lost his one eye by going against the crowd to correct two errors and a verse at the court of Siddharaja Jayasimha. Thank you.