Disclaimer: This is not a research-based paper but an opinion piece. It is an exercise in speculation.
The traditional view sees Vedas as anādi and apauruṣeya, without a beginning and authorless. Behind this lies the belief that Vedic ṛṣis were not composers but seers. They did not create or compose the sūktas attributed to them- they perceived them in the aether and merely revealed them, or made them known. Going further, it is asserted that Vedic sūktas are eternal, emergent at the time of creation itself from the mouth of Brahmā.
There is a plethora of literature on the nature of the Vedic soma, including the suggestion that it was a psychedelic substance of some kind. In contrast, Srini Kalyanaraman asserts it was a tin-alloy, and the soma ritual was a metallurgical process of extracting tin from ore. Of course, I cannot make any claim without substantiated proof, but in this article I want to entertain the idea of soma as a psychedelic substance, and explore the implications of this on the idea of Vedic ṛṣis as “seers” or darṣṭās, and not composers or kartās. My assertion is that if soma was indeed a psychedelic, then this supports the traditional idea.
To understand this we must approach psychedelics without prejudice, and certainly without the conditioned dismissal of any suggestion of “drugs.” Psychedelics are not cocaine. They are not heroin or crystal meth. They are non-toxic and non-addictive, and they have been a part of indigenous cultures and wisdom for a very, very long time.
In Africa, tribes are known to use ibogaine, extracted naturally from the plant iboga. A highly powerful psychedelic, rarely if ever used recreationally, it allows these tribes to meet and communicate with their ancestors. In the Amazon, tribes have been brewing the potion ayahuasca for an untold amount of time. Their world-view, rooted in nature and an engagement with it, is remarkably similar to sanātana dharma. They see reality as composed of three realms- the upper, lower and middle. The middle realm is the material realm, while the other realms are lokas where other beings and intelligences reside. Ingestion of ayahuasca allows them to visit these other lokas and interact with such beings. Some beings sparkle with luminosity- Devas- whereas others can be cast in a dangerous, tense aura- Asuras. In Mexico, local wisdom has relied on psilocybin mushrooms for pretty much the same purpose, with a similar world-view.
More remarkable is the inter-connection between the raw chemicals inside these natural substances.
Ibogaine, DMT (in ayahuasca) and psilocybin are all part of a family of molecules called tryptamines. They have very similar molecular structures, and in some cases merely shifting one atom from here to there can alter one tryptamine to another. And here’s the catch- another molecule that’s part of the tryptamine family is serotonin- a primary neurotransmitter that helps us parse and perceive reality. If dopamine is the emotion neurotransmitter, then serotonin is the perception neurotransmitter (reductively speaking). When we ingest a tryptamine psychedelic, the root molecule travels to our brain and greets serotonin, its close cousin. Then, for the period the psychedelic is active in our systems, the molecule replaces serotonin and acts as the neurotransmitter- giving rise to the psychedelic experience. DMT in particular, and I can personally attest to this, does indeed take one to a strange ‘other-realm’ where one meets powerful and not necessarily benign mentalities.
All of this is to say that, if in fact soma was a psychedelic of the above kind, it wasn’t just any “drug.” It was a powerful plant teacher, like ayahuasca, ibogaine and psilocybin mushrooms are. It would have enabled the consumer to visit fantastical realms, and return with other-worldly or transcendent information/epiphany.
A particular condition triggered under the psychedelic state is called ‘glossolalia,’ or speaking in tongues. More precisely, glossolalia is the condition of uttering word or speech-like sounds, which are not entirely gibberish but not a known language either. It’s an experience I am familiar with, and on more than one occasion I have experienced what I call glossolalic Sanskrit, or gibberish Sanskrit. It goes something like this- inkartavyavakṣimūcyāpaṅkavyakartivu. To understand why this is gibberish Sanskrit, and not just gibberish, contrast it to- inglentordicatorminterismaklevon (gibberish English or Latin even).
Now, clearly this shows that anyone can come up with glossolalia, under specific psychedelic conditions. But then, not anyone can be a ṛṣi. A ṛṣi is one who can return from the psychedelic state not with the gibberish of an unknown language, but with the realised articulation, within comprehensible syntax, of transcendent truths. A ṛṣi is one who can pull apart the curtain of glossolalia to perceive the real meanings- the universe as sound- and articulate it into mantra and metre.
I find support for this from the very idea of Sanskrit- well-knit or well put together. Imagine the pre Ṛgvedic state to be of several inter-related prakrits, all descended from proto-Indo-European (itself originated in India, I assure you). Vedic ṛṣis, under the effect of soma, were able to articulate a higher prakrit, more erudite and well-knit, and capture within it layers of meaning both material and transcendent. This is why the Ṛgveda is a monument of sound that lends itself to several schools of interpretation. Singular verses and words even have multiple meanings, and this is what exalts Vedic hymns above mere prose or poetry and makes them the fountainhead of dharma.
Under this speculation, the ṛṣis did not indeed create the sūktas. Rather, when the tryptamine that soma contained moved to the brain and replaced serotonin (briefly), they were able to extract from the aether true epiphanies on ṛta, on reality itself.
And what distinguished a regular human who consumed soma and a ṛṣi was that the ṛṣi came back with syntax and articulation, whereas the regular human could only do glossolalia at best. Indeed, when a regular human returned with true meaning is when he/she was considered a ṛṣi, a seer. And over time, the language these ṛṣis articulated their realisations in was called Sanskrit, because it was much better put together than the prakrits that abounded in common speech.