| Languages of Music:
Search for an Indian perspective
( India as a Literary & Cultural Space)
Milind Malshe
1 . Languages of Culture and Cultures of Language The term 'language' has been defined by modern Saussurean linguistics as 'a system of signs' (de Saussure/Baskin 1974: 16). Roland Barthes states that he has been engaged 'in a series of structural analyses which all aim at defining a number of non-linguistic 'languages' ; . culture, in all its aspects, is a language' (Barthes 1964: 155). It is clear that a culture has many 'languages' and music is one of them. Also note that a natural language has many 'cultures' in the sense that it expresses itself in many different cultural contexts and corresponding practices, or to use a term from Michael Bakhtin, it has many 'speech genres' (Bakhtin 1986). We therefore presume a plurality of languages or signifying codes and also a plurality of contexts for any given code.
Let us begin by looking at the etymology of the words 'music' and ' sangeet ', not because we are in search of 'origins', or 'pure' meanings of these terms, but to explore what kind of cultural practices these concepts have covered in the past.
Music is derived from 'muse' which in ancient Greek referred to the seven goddesses who supervised a whole range of cultural practices, ranging from poetic inspiration and eloquence, history, pastoral life, astronomy and celestial phenomena to instrumental and vocal music, dance, heroic and erotic poetry. 1 From this list, it appears to have covered arts, sciences, history in their theoretical as well as practical forms. Also note that the Greek educational system, as seen from Plato's Republic , comprised three basic components: gymnastic for the body, grammatic for what we may today call literacy, and music for the soul. It appears that the Greek concept of 'music' is almost equivalent to the recent post-modern concept of 'Cultural Studies', which claims to be 'committed to the study of the entire range of a society's arts, beliefs, institutions, and communicative practices' (Nelson et al 1992:4)
The Sanskrit term ' sangeet ' literally means 'sung together', 'singing accompanied by instrumental music, chorus, and dancing'. Traditionally, the definition given is that it comprises the three arts of singing, playing instruments and dancing. Moreover, the goddess of the arts is Saraswati, also known as 'Bharati', 'Sharada', and 'Vagishwari'. She is the goddess of 'vak' or speech and eloquence, the inventress of 'Sanskrit', the language of high culture, the inventress of the Devanagari script. She is shown as carrying the 'vidya', the emblem of knowledge and wisdom, and 'veena', the emblem of music. Saraswati is also the Vedic name of the mythical and mystical holy river supposedly flowing from the Himalayas . Thus, here again like the Greek muses, the river-goddess stands for a whole range of socio-cultural practices, including cognition, language and music.
2. The Antinomies of 'culture' and 'language'
Before turning to a discussion of the plurality and the presumed underlying unity in Indian music, and by implication, in the Indian cultural practices, let us first look a little closely at the concepts of 'language' and 'culture'. The most controversial distinction in modern linguistics has been the langue-parole distinction made by Saussure. Making a three-way distinction between ' langage-langue-parole, ' 2 Saussure states: `Language [i.e. langue ] is a well-defined object in the heterogeneous mass of speech facts. . It is the social side of speech, outside the individual who can never create nor modify it by himself; it exists only by virtue of a sort of contract signed by the members of a community. . Whereas speech [i.e. parole ] is heterogeneous, language [i.e. langue ] as defined, is homogeneous. It is a system of signs in which the only essential thing is the union of meanings and sound-images, in which both parts of the sign are psychological' (de Saussure/Baskin 1974:15) The distinction between langue and parole is thus a matter of homogeneous system versus heterogeneous mass of facts. It is commonplace to reduce this to a distinction between 'abstract system' and 'concrete facts'. But if we look closely at Saussure's text, there is a paradoxical situation, because immediately after the passage quoted above, Saussure states: `Language [i.e. langue ] is concrete, no less so than speaking [i.e. langage ] . Linguistic signs, though basically psychological, are not abstractions; associations which bear the stamp of collective approval - and which added together constitute language - are realities that have their seat in the brain. Besides, linguistic signs are tangible; it is possible to reduce them to conventional written symbols, whereas it would be impossible to provide detailed photographs of acts of speaking. .' (de Saussure/Baskin, 1974: 15) Notice Saussure's characterization of 'langue' in abstract terms: 'a self-contained whole and a principle of classification', 'the norm of all other manifestations of speech', 'a grammatical system that has a potential existence', 'not complete in any speaker', 'only differences without positive terms'.
One way of interpreting this contradiction is to invoke the concept of 'antinomy'. While commenting on the paradoxical notions of 'society', Adorno has argued that they result from the contradictions in the thing itself rather than from some inherent failure in conceptualization (Adorno, 1969-70). This line of argument has implications for the so-called 'social/human sciences', for it is based on the assumption that such contradictions in 'the thing itself' do not exist in 'nature' and therefore the Natural Sciences need not face the problems faced by the social sciences. Frederick Jameson has similarly argued that `It is precisely because language is the kind of peculiar entity that it is - nowhere all present at once, nowhere taking the form of an object or substance, and yet making its existence felt at every moment of our thought, in every act of speech - that the word which names it will not be able to function with the neatness of nouns that stand for physical objects'.(Jameson 1972: 24)
When we speak of an 'Indian' perspective, we are not guided by a 'nativistic' urge to discover or uncover cultures and languages in the context of music in India . As a matter of fact, the thrust of this paper is to resist the universalist and reductionist stance of many 'nativistic' theories of 'Indian' music. Notice that the term 'Indian Classical Music' refers to the classical musical traditions of South Asia , that is the music of the Indian subcontinent, in which national geopolitical identities such as India , Pakistan , Bangla Desh , Nepal , Bhutan , Sikkim , Sri Lanka do not play a role. 'Indian' is a socio-cultural label for a sub-continent, based on a presumed continuity.
The Indian situation, which has been described as multi-lingual, multi-ethnic, multi-racial, multi-cultural, multi-religious, and so on, is also obviously multi-musical: the variety of folk, tribal, rural, urban, devotional, and popular musical forms is mind-boggling. Further, even in its classical systems, it is 'bi-lingual' - two art-music systems, called Hindustani and Carnatic systems, have co-existed for at least about four centuries. If the Bakhtinian terms 'dialogics', 'many-voicedness' and 'polyphony' are to be applied to any cultural situation, the Indian situation is probably the best suited for this purpose. Indian scholars have, however, resisted such a view, proposing that the variety is only at the surface level, which is identified as the structural level or the level of 'technique'; at the underlying deeper level, there is a spiritual or metaphysical unity.
3. The Search for 'Unity in Diversity' in Indian Music
Let us examine the kind of continuity and unity proposed by twp scholars, Kapila Vatsyayan (1977) and Ritwik Sanyal, (1987). Since dance and music have been viewed as arts which have preserved the ancient classical traditions, these two scholars can be taken as representatives of an important point of view about what has been called the deeper unity underlying the surface plurality.
In the 'Introduction' to her Classical Indian Dance in Literature and the Arts , Vatsyayan writes:
For the traditional Indian artist ... artistic creation was a discipline (sadhana), a yoga, and a sacrifice (yajna). ...The aesthetic experience was considered second only to the supreme experience and was thus termed its twin brother (brahmanandasahodara). ...The aesthetic which emerged as a result of these beliefs was the theory of rasa. Since the human being and his subjective emotion were not themes important enough to be portrayed in art, life was seen as a series of states of being, which, though diverse, led to one transcendental experience of bliss. ...The configuration of numerous transitory states (vyabhicari bhava), involuntary states (sattvika bhava) and dominant moods (sthayi bhava) into eight or nine states of being can be understood in the light of these spiritual beliefs. (1977:5-6)
Vatsyayan further claims that the Indian arts not only share a common spiritual goal but are also based on common fundamental principles which give rise to specific techniques in different aesthetic media :
Classical Indian architecture, sculpture, painting, literature ( kavya ), music and dancing evolved their own rules conditioned by their respective media, but they shared with one another not only the underlying spiritual beliefs of the Indian religio-philosophic mind but also the procedures by which the relationships of the symbol and the spiritual states were worked out in detail. (1977:8)
Vatsyayan discusses the basic concepts used in the classical Indian arts in order to validate her thesis that rasa theory governs the techniques in all the arts. To summarize briefly, the same underlying principles are evident in 'the rules of proportion in architecture', in the 'principles of tala (measurement) and bhanga (stance) of Indian sculpture', in the 'relative disposition and proportion of colour and perspective in painting', in the patterns of 'division and combination of the movements of major limbs (anga) and the minor limbs (upanga) in dancing', and the 'employment of sruti and swara in a given mode (raga) to create a particular mood in Indian music'. It is true that the argument is partly historical in the sense that the claim is made regarding aesthetic practices in a particular historical period: 'upto the medieval period' as per her own statement in the Preface of the book. However, there is an implicit assumption that the fundamental aesthetic traditions are covered by the same principle even today. This is evident in Vatsyayan's complaint that while the artistes in the classical traditions are governed by the common aesthetic practices based on the rasa theory, the modern rasika does not have an easy access to the theoretical foundations. 2
Some major difficulties in accepting the rasa theory as the underlying spiritual foundation for all the arts need to be mentioned here. Firstly, it is doubtful whether spiritual concepts such as yajna , and moksa , were, in fact, a part of the original formulation of the rasa theory in the Natyasastra ; these concepts seem to have emerged after Bhatta Nayaka's interpretation of the rasa-sutra in which the experience of rasa is held to belong to the same order as the experience of the brahman. Moreover, if these spiritual and religious concepts associated with the rasa theory are to be viewed as relevant in the present context, it would fail to do justice to the kind of 'secularization' that arts have been undergoing in India. Is it possible, for example, to hold the view that a classical musician today has a definite spiritual or religious import to convey? The inaccessibility of the spiritual principles mentioned by Vatsyayan perhaps holds as much for the artist as for the modern rasika .
This is not the place to discuss the sociological and philosophical debates about the process of 'secularization'. There is however a belief, particularly held quite widely in India , that must be dispelled immediately. This belief associates secularization (originated and spread in the modern West) with rank materialism or abject physicalism. Surely, secularization involves a shift from a 'theo-centric' view to a 'homo-centric' view. This does not mean that it concerned itself only with the external or with the physical or that it lost the sense of the ethical. Humanism and secularization led to an exploration of the animate as well as the inanimate aspects of nature, and also the body and mind of the human being as deeply as possible. No ulterior or divine purpose was necessary to justify this exploration. In the field of the natural sciences, for example, astronomy was dissociated from astrology. Similarly, the older view that the human is a manifestation of the divine no longer guided the exploration of the human body and the human mind. The human being is to be explored, examined, understood for its own sake, and as comprehensively as possible. This humanistic exploration incorporates the interiority of the human spirit with its sublime as well as ugly and frightening aspects; and it is here that a thinker such as Sigmund Freud comes into the picture. Secular modernity is an attempt to come to terms with all the aspects of human nature as well as nature outside, without recourse to concepts and principles such as transcendental divinity. It is further characterized by a heightened sensitivity to the historical, social, cultural and material changes that were taking place in human life.
Whether a similar process of secularization has taken place in India under the influence of British colonization, is a moot point. It would of course be quite wrong-headed to try and fit 'Indian' realities within the Semitic-Christian transformation. The 'Indian' realities however are neither static nor homogeneous. Certain undeniable symptoms of a humanistic and secular shift do appear in the Indian context. The linguistic shift from the devabhasha , viz. Sanskrit, to the modern Indian vernacular languages in literature and the other arts, is one of them. This shift is of course not a result of British colonization, for in a medieval musical form like dhrupad , the linguistic shift from Sanskrit to Hindi (particularly, the 'braj' dialect) had already begun before the British arrived. Gradually, however, dhrupad itself gave way to a more humanized, less deified form called khayal which emphasized creativity and freedom of human imagination and thinking (-the term ' khayal ' means thought or idea -), without giving up the discipline of the classical framework. The humanization and secularization of the classical traditions of music and dance are further emphasized by the fact that the location of the classical performances is no longer the temple but a modern, secular, humanized auditorium, equipped with the gadgets of modern western technology, such as the air-conditioner, the amplification and audio-video recording system, etc. The acts of the lighting of the lamp or the prayer to the nataraja , do exist, but they too are becoming increasingly sporadic and highly ritualistic.
The second difficulty emerges when we have a closer look at the application of the rasa theory to music. On the face of it, music may be said to be a more eligible candidate for the application of the rasa theory than, say, architecture : for unlike the latter, it falls within the category of the performing arts which are represented by the ancient concept of natya , which may be said to have 'representation' as its core. The fact that Aristotle's list of the 'mimetic' arts shows music and drama to be aligned very closely to each other, lends further support to this view.
Let us therefore observe how Kapila Vatsyayan brings music under the theory of rasa . Discussing the basic musicological concepts of sruti (micro-tonal interval), swara (note) and raga (mode), she argues that all the three are essentially expressive in character (1977:10):
Each sruti has a definite character; the names manda, candovati, dayavati, ranjani, raudri, krodha, ugra or khsobhini denote their emotional quality which dwells in combination or singly in the notes of the modal scale: thus, dayavati, ranjani and ratika dwell in the gandhara and each of the notes ( swara ) of the scale in its turn has its own kind of expression and distinct psychological or physical effect and can be related to a colour, a mood ( rasa or bhava ), a metre, a deity or one of the subtle centres ( cakra ) of the body. ...Thus for the sringara (amorous or erotic) and the hasya (laughter) rasa , the madhyama and the pancham are used; for the vira (heroic), raudra (wrathful) and the adbhuta (wondrous), the shadja and the rishabha ; for the bibhatsa (repulsive) and the bhayanaka (fearsome), the dhaivata ; and for the karuna (compassionate), the nisada and the gandhara are used.
At this point, we need to consider some of the more 'technical' aspects of the nature of the musical scale. From a historical point of view, the basic framework of the medium of music, viz. the scale, has undergone substantial changes not only in the Hindustani tradition but also in the Carnatic tradition. To put it rather briefly, all the seven swaras in Bharata's scale are supposed to have srutis (i.e. micro-tonal intervals) in the order 4-3-2-4-4-3-2. On the other hand, in the classical traditions obtainable today, both in the North and the South, the swaras 'sa' and 'pa' are treated as 'invariant' ( achala ); in other words, these swaras do not have the sruti variations, which is not the case with Bharata's scale. (Brihaspati, 1959: 26-29). The sruti-bhava-rasa relationship must therefore be treated as highly problematic in the context of modern musical practice. 3
Kapila Vatsyayan holds that 'Every swara stands for a certain definite emotion or mood and has been classified according to its relative importance, and it forms a different part of the `person' of the modal scale ( murchana ) ' (1977:10). As we have pointed out above, if the internal structuring of the scale has undergone a change, the swara-bhava relation cannot be accepted in the form it was propounded by the ancients. We must keep in mind the fact that the older murchana system disappeared under the influence of Iranian system and the s adja-pancama-bhava (i.e., the relation of the First and the Fifth) became the dominant principle underlying the scale, rather than the sadja-madhyama-bhava (i.e., the relation of the First and the Fourth). It should thus be clear that the common procedures by which the relationships of the aesthetic symbol and the spiritual states were worked out by the ancients cannot be extended to the aesthetic practice of classical musicians today.
Let us examine a concept that has played a crucial role in the tradition of Indian classical music, both in the vocal as well as instrumental variety, viz. the concept of 'bandish'. We must note a strong phonetic similarity between the English word ' bind ', the German ' bund ', the Persian ' band ' and the Sanskrit ' bandha '. All these appear to be cognate words, sharing their origin somewhere in the Proto-Indo-European. Since Persian as well as Sanskrit (i.e. Indo-Aryan) are derived from a common source (called Proto-Indo-Iranian, which is a branch of Proto-Indo-European), there appears to be an etymological link between the Persian root 'band' and the Sanskrit root 'bandh' - both have the meaning of 'fastening, tying, binding'.
It is very difficult for us today to understand what was meant by the ancient 'prabandha' which was a kind of compositions with four constituents or 'dhatu', viz. 'udgrahaka', 'melapaka', 'dhruva' and 'abhog'. In the medieval form, which survives even today, viz. 'dhrupad', the presentation has three aspects: (i) the tonal improvisation of the raga, called 'alap', which may be presented in three different speeds (-in instrumental presentations, these are normally called 'alaap', 'jod' and 'jhala'); (ii) this is followed by the presentation of the bandish of dhrupad - mostly having a four-fold structure - 'sthayi' (originally called 'udgraha'), 'antara', 'sancari' and 'abhog' (originally, the last two were a single unit called 'abhog', but were later split into two more tidy divisions); and finally (iii) 'layakari', which is a rhythmic play involving an elaboration of the words of the dhrupad-bandish.
In its structural aspects, dhupad is clearly the precursor of 'khayal', the dominant form of classical vocal music for about a century and a half. The presentation of 'khayal' consists of two major elements. Firstly, there is a pre-composed or 'nibaddha' aspect of form which involves words (pathya), melody (raga) and rhythm (tala). Secondly, there is the improvisational, 'a-nibaddha' aspect, which is called the 'badhat'. These two levels constantly interact with each other and are also interdependent. It should be noted that the a-nibaddha, improvisational 'un-folding' quite clearly implies that there has been a prior act of 'folding'. It is the bandish which 'folds' a certain approach to a raga which is later gradually 'unfolded' in the badhat. Moreover, the Indian classical traditions in literature, music and dance presume that 'art' involves an element (a) which is repeatable or reiterable, and (b) which can be transmitted from generation to generation with a high degree of constancy and stability. It is bandish which becomes a vehicle for all these presumptions. It is clear that 'bhava' and 'rasa' can be attributed more significantly at the level of 'bandish' or the total composition, rather than at the level of isolated 'swaras', or at the level of 'raga'.
Ritwik Sanyal has worked out his position on the basis of 'qualitative or valuational grading' (1987:175). Drawing upon the 'Japasutram', a tantric text describing spiritual development in seven stages, and playing with the mystical number seven, Sanyal attempts to relate seven types or 'spheres of music', relating them with seven basic modes of experience. The seven spheres of music are graded as follows: pre-logical natural music, commonsense music, scientific music, formal logical music, philosophical music, religious music and finally, mystical music. His position about the musical practice in India is as follows:
Both Carnatic music and Hindustani music are ethnomusical species of the same genus of music, viz., Hindu music, that had been codified by Narada, Bharata, Sarangadeva, and so on. The two species of music share the deep structure of Hindu music. . Hindu music is mystical; Carnatic music, religious; Hindustani music, secular. Hindu music being mystical is profound and characterized by the aesthetic stereotype Tranquility ( shanta-rasa). Carnatic music being religious is sacred and characterized by the aesthetic stereotype Piety ( bhakti-rasa). Hindustani music being secular is profane and characterized by the aesthetic stereotype Eros ( sringara-rasa). . By 'Hindu Music' we . mean the genre of ideal music as codified in the Sanskrit textual tradition ( Natyashastra, Abhinavabharati, Sangeet-ratnakara, . (1987: 208-11)
It is tempting to brush aside some of these statements (and the supporting arguments and historical facts given by Sanyal) as 'fundamentalist' and 'obscurantist'. However, the underlying assumptions, privileging the spiritual, inform the vision of many practising artists, not only of the 'dhrupad' vocal and instrumental form, but also of the other classical arts such as dance, even today.
What Sanyal does is to obfuscate some of the important historical facts. It is true that in spite of political and ethnic diversity, the Indian subcontinent had been united for several centuries by the shared religious culture called Hinduism. However, the process of Persianisation affected the aesthetic culture rather deeply. Firstly, the musical scale underwent a radical change under the Persian influence, not only in the northern region but in the south too. Secondly, in spite of the fact that in its official version, Islam opposes music, the Muslim rulers of India were patrons of the arts. In his enthusiasm to attribute the metaphysical and transcendental tranquility ('shanta-rasa') to dhrupad, Sanyal also appears to trivialize the influence of the 'bhakti' movement, particularly the krishna-bhakti. It should be noted that a large number of dhrupad compositions (by Tansen and other composers) are in the braj dialect and Indurama Srivastava mentions (1980: 29) that the 'love story of Krishna and the gopis of Braj has found ample appreciation not only in the literature, but also in the devotional songs and music especially in dhrupada'. In any case, dhrupad was a form that emerged in medieval India and not 'ancient' India . Further, Krishna has two manifestations, not really compatible with each other, one the warrior-philosopher of the Bhagwad-Geeta, the other cowherd-lover of the literature and music of the Bhakti movement.
4. Conclusion
The essentialist and universalist philosophic assumptions which underlie most of the traditional theorizing in aesthetics, face difficulties of various kinds in the context of the modern aesthetic practices. Are we then to conclude that (a) the whole subject of aesthetic theorizing is 'dreary' (to use Passmore's expression) - something futile and therefore not worthy of serious attention? And (b) that present-day musical practices have no relationship with the ancient traditions of music and aesthetics? 5 These conclusions would be unwarranted given the fact that there are points of contact among different arts and different historical periods. Instead of assuming that all arts have, or rather, must have, something in common, and attempting to locate the universal in religio-philosophic principles, we need to adopt a more flexible strategy of identifying the formal and philosophical elements of the present-day practices and then trying to establish historical and structural connections with the practices of the past. Take, for example, the important problem of the relationships between the arts and their classification. We can view the problem of aesthetic classification from the point of view of, say, the composite arts, instead of considering a single art in its purity. For example, poetry and music co-exist in song; music and body-movements in dance; poetry, music, dance and drama in opera. There are certainly points of overlap; for example, formal arrangement of sounds is found in poetry as well as in music. It is equally true, however, that the two principles, viz. metre in poetry and rhythm in music, are not identical. In poetry, metre is inevitably tied up with the semantic dimension; that is, patterning of sounds in and by itself has no significance in poetry. In music, on the other hand, the quality of sounds and their rhythmic organization may be said to acquire intrinsic value; for example, an entire classical form in Hindustani music, viz, tarana , uses a text comprising syllables which are semantically 'empty'. Similarly, Hindustani music also uses rhythmic devices such as tihai , that is, a repetition of a melodic phrase three times near the point of sam ; these devices too have no semantic import, unlike in poetry. We, in fact, need a conceptual framework which can capture both, the similarities as well as the differences.
In the second half of the 10 th century, Abinavagupta reviewed a tradition which grew and developed over the ten centuries before him and he radically reinterpreted and reformulated many of its basic principles. At the beginning of the twenty first century, we are still waiting for a scholar who would review and reinterpret the developments in the last ten centuries or so.
NOTES
1. Calliope (Gr. Beautiful voice) : muse of epic or heroic poetry and of poetic inspiration and eloquence; the chief of the Muses.
Clio: heroic exploits and history.
Euterpe: Dionysiac music and the double flute.
Thalia: gaity, pastoral life and comedy.
Melpomene: song, harmony and tragedy.
Terpsichore: choral dance and song.
Erato: the lyre and erotic poetry.
Polyhymnia: the inspired and stately hymn.
Urania: celestial phenomena and astronomy.
Cf. Dictionary of Ideas: 363.
2. Saussure's 'langage-langue-parole' triad has been translated as 'speech-language-speaking' by Wade Baskin (1974) and 'language-language system-speech' by Harris (1983).
Note A. L. Basham's perceptive comment on the difference between literature and the other arts of ancient India : 'Ancient India's religious art differs strikingly from her religious literature. The latter is the work of men with vocations, brahmans, monks and ascetics. The former came chiefly from the hands of secular craftsmen, who, though they worked according to priestly instructions and increasingly rigid iconographic rules, loved the world they knew with an intensity which is usually to be seen behind the religious forms in which they expressed themselves. In our opinion the usual inspiration of Indian art is not so much a ceaseless quest for the Absolute as a delight in the world as the artist found it, a sensuous vitality, and a feeling of growth and movement as regular and organic as the growth of living things upon earth'. The Wonder that was India , Rupa & Co., Calcutta , (Basham,1967: 349).
The question before us is : Can we accept the swara-bhava-rasa relation in the form it was propounded by the ancients? If the Indian musical scale has undergone such radical changes, how far can we try to establish the rasa theory in music, assuming the swara-sruti relation? The cause seems to be a lost one because the relation itself, as we have just seen, has undergone a radical change due to the invariance imparted to the notes sa and pa . Nor can we simply say that whatever the nature of the musical scale, the rasa theory still holds, in the sense that the swaras (and the raga ) would still be 'expressive'; for, then, the principle of assigning definite expressive values to every tonal and micro-tonal element of the musical scale would not hold.
For example, Ranade holds the view that 'Hindustani classical music had no close relationship with the ancient music of the country'. (1997:2)
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LANGUAGES OF MUSIC:
SEARCH FOR AN INDIAN PERSPECTIVE
Milind Malshe
Professor
Department of Humanities & Social Sciences
IIT-Bombay, Powai, Mumbai 400 076
Paper to be presented in Panel 4: India as a Literary and Cultural Space
at
Prof. M. B. Emeneau Centenary
International Conference on
(1-4 January, 2005)
organized by
(Dept of Secondary & Higher Education,
(Ministry of Human Resource Develepment, Govt of India )
Manasgangotri, Mysore 570 006, India
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