The Enchantress of Vaishali

AS DAWN WAS breaking with sunrise, Nilanjana, a prominent courtesan of Vaishali, was rushing to her palatial home after a cold and refreshing bath in the river. It had been a long night, when talks on the strategy for invading the neigh­bouring empire had gone into the wee hours of the morning. All that Nilanjana wanted to do was get one of her ganikas to massage her tired back and rest her heavy eyelids. But the richness of a golden cloth caught her eyes. She decided to take a slight detour. As she neared the beautiful cloth of gold, she stood still in her tracks. Peering from the edge of the rolled cloth was a pair of magnificent eyes, observing her with great concentration. Looking at the almond-shaped eyes that had velvety brown depths to them, Nilanjana moved closer. She was mesmerised by what she saw. For lying un­der the mango tree was the most beautiful bundle Nilanjana had ever encountered.

Irresistibly drawn to the infant with the velvety brown eyes, Nilanjana gasped at the picture of loveliness before her. A surge of vatsalya or maternal love coursed through her. Nilanjana was surprised for she had never experienced this emotion before. Without further ado, she wrapped the baby in her arms and, with a purpose in her now slower strides, decided to take the abandoned infant with her.

Nilanjana decided to call the child Amrapali. From that day Amrapali entered Nilanjana’s abode, which was well known to the people of Vaishali as Nilanjana was one of the most re­spected courtesans of the city.

Showering Amrapali with love and care, Nilanjana de­cided to personally groom her beloved daughter in the arts of life. Amrapali blossomed under her mother’s tutelage. Nilanjana groomed the talented Amrapali in the 64 arts, from music to dance, from fencing to debates on governance, policies and warfare.

Her beauty grew and its fame spread, but that was just one end of the spectrum. Amrapali was the apsara of dance; she sang like a nightingale and the food she cooked was akin to ambrosia.

Thus began the story of Amrapali who grew up to be the most beautiful courtesan in the glittering city of Vaishali.

Stories abound on the life and times of Amrapali. The one thing that remains constant is the love she had for Vaishali, the capital of the Licchavi tribe. The other being the fact that Amrapali also stood as a symbol of governance, which led to the building of one of the most important pillars of civil society in the republic of Vaishali, as mentioned by Gautama Buddha.

“Then the Blessed One addressed Vassakára the Brahman and said:

When I was once staying, O Brahman, at Vesali at the Sarandada Temple, I taught the Vajjians these conditions of welfare; and so long as these conditions shall continue to exist among the Vajjians, so long as the Vajjians shall be well instructed in those conditions, so long may we expect them not to decline, but to prosper.”

(Sacred Books of the East, Volume XI, translated by TW Rhys Davids, 1900)

As Amrapali grew into a young woman of extraordinary charm and beauty and became an exquisite dancer, the number of her admirers grew. Many nobles desired her company. When Manudeva, the king of Vaishali, saw Amrapali dance, he felt that she should be the property of the state. He plotted to kill her youthful love and fiancé Pushpakumar on the day of the wed­ding and declared her “nagar vadhu”, or bride of Vaishali. Over the years, Amrapali has kept reappearing for she has continued to live in the imagination of poets, dancers and filmmakers. With this title on her beautiful head, Amrapali became one of the most coveted prizes. She became an icon of beauty and desire as rich men, even from the adjoining kingdoms, queued to see her dance.

She was a woman who mesmerised kings with her beau­ty and used her talent to become one of the richest residents of the city. This is the story of an abandoned girl found under a mango tree who in early life became one of the biggest own­ers of mango orchards, who wielded unending power, rose to command her lovers to do what was ethical, and in the end chose her nation over love. At the prime of her life, she gave up everything to be in the service of the Buddha, donating her mango orchards, her immense wealth, her jewels and palatial homes to the Buddhist Sangha.

Amrapali’s life was marked by many incidents. From different historical narrations, I have pieced together a story that helps define her maturity.

STORIES OF HER beauty travelled far and wide and also reached the ears of the neighbouring hos­tile kingdom of Magadha. The powerful emperor Bimbisara attacked Vaishali and took refuge in Amrapali’s house. Being a talented musician he wooed Amrapali with great ardour and persistence. They fell in love. Soon, Amrapali discovered his identity and to protect her beloved asked him to cease the war. Smitten with love, Bimbisara did so. Amrapali bore Bimbisara a son named Vimala Kandar. Later, Bimbisara’s son, Ajatashatru, too, fell in love with Amrapali. Amrapali grew to be revered for her beauty, grace, charm and talents. But losing Puspakumar broke her heart, leaving her vulnerable. Finding out that Bimbisara was the king of a hostile neighbouring kingdom, followed by the wrath of Ajatashatru, taught the young and vulnerable Amrapali to become resilient and practical.

From a tender age, innocent Amrapali, through her many experiences with rich and powerful men, turned into a femme du monde, or woman of the world.

She was also called Ambapalika, Amra, or even Ambapallika. As I narrate my understanding of this arrest­ingly beautiful, immensely talented and formidably em­powered woman, I delve deeper into Amrapali’s presence in Buddhist traditions. The legend of Amrapali was first mentioned in the Buddhist Jataka Tales. It is the journey of a woman who lived a life of luxury as a courtesan and yet uti­lised her intellectual prowess to emerge on an almost equal footing with Gautama Buddha. In conjunction with the Buddha, staying at her mango grove, the Ambavali Bana, she became an arahant. She engaged in debates and discus­sions with the Buddha and, finally, left her mango groves to his order. The Ambapalika Sutra was thereafter preached by the Budhha himself.

Amrapali continues to enchant with her many stories and her many avatars. But what is truly inspirational is the way she navigated her own life. She lived on her own terms, often at crossroads, having to make difficult choices. She did all that and more, singlehandedly be­coming richer than many men, becoming more pow­erful than even her powerful suitors. She voluntarily gave up love and took the high road to serve her state and ultimately forsook all to find her inner peace, and that too on her terms.

It makes one question why it was the courtesan who enjoyed such immense empowerment as well as the enormous agency she invested in herself. Does marriage devalue the modern woman’s agency? Was the courtesan of ancient India more personally empowered than the power­ful women of today who are always trying to reach a work and life balance?

Amrapali has continued to haunt and fascinate me. She has been filtered through a number of texts. She is not a pure object of history but has been a muse for several writers, such as Benipuri, JC Mathur and Acharya Chatursen. And even in cinema, Vyjayanthimala has immortalised the dancer Amrapali. She lives in literary memory, and is also recreated on radio and in films.

Amrapali stands as a beacon of empowerment as a pub­lic woman who had a claim over the entire republic. Her life in Vaishali created a utopian moment in history wherein ganikas and courtesans, and especially Amrapali herself, stand apart with no modern peers.

Amrapali is a pillar of democracy too, for the Licchavians were the high priests of democracy who venerated her. She was an object of fantasy for people who could not attain her. Her status gave her that unattainability, yet she could be watched and admired as a dancer.

The role played by Amrapali was that of a powerful voice in civil society and in the governance of her city. When they conferred the title of nagar vadhu on her, its connotations earned grace and honour. The bride of the city was trans­lated into the pride of the city, very much in keeping with present-day women councillors, presidents and prime min­isters. Soon, she was also conferred the title of ‘rajnartaki’ because of her dancing skills.

Amrapali was a woman who renounced her riches because she became enamoured and convinced of the Buddhist way of life after attending many assemblies con­ducted by the Buddha himself. She decided to voluntarily join the Buddhist Sangha. It is this act of renunciation that elevated her to an even higher plane.

The question is: is Amrapali outdated or is she just a figment of the imagination of writers and historians who idealised the beau idéal of the empowered woman?

Wisdom lies in the fact that civilisations learn from history. Modern empowered women across the globe can take a leaf out of Amrapali’s book. Her leadership cel­ebrates empathy and kindness. It was a revelation to me as I was turning the pages of Time magazine which paid trib­ute to 12 extraordinary women leaders—Greta Gerwig, Taraji P Henson, Andra Day, Coco Gauff, Leena Nair, Yael Admi, Reem Hajajreh, Nadia Murad, Marlena Fejzo, Jacqui Patterson, Ada Limón and Claudia Goldin—who are building a more equal future. That took me back to the legend of Amrapali.

About The Author

Alka Pande

Alka Pande is an art historian, author and curator

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