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The Mahabharata

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nusrat-diu:
34. Yavakrida's End

YAVAKRIDA studied the Vedas and became learned. He grew vain with the thought that he had acquired the knowledge of the Vedas through the boon of Indra and not through human tutelage.

Bharadwaja did not like this and feared that his son might ruin himself by slighting Raibhya. He thought it necessary to warm him. "The gods," he said, "grant boons to foolish people who persistently practise penances, as intoxicants are sold to fools for money. They lead to loss of self-control, and this leads to the warping of the mind and utter destruction." He illustrated his advice by the ancient tale, which is given below.

In olden times there was a celebrated sage named Baladhi. He had a son whose untimely death plunged him into grief. So, be practised rigorous penance to get a son who would never meet with death.

The gods told the sage that this could never be, for the human race was necessarily mortal, and there need must be a limit to human life. They asked him to name his own limit.

The sage replied: "In that case grant that the life of my son may persist as long as that mountain lasts." The boon was granted to him and he was duly blessed with a son named Medhavi.

Medhavi grew conceited at the thought that he was safe from death forever, since he would live as long as the mountain existed, and he behaved with arrogance towards all.

One day, this vain man showed disrespect to a great sage named Dhanushaksha. At once that sage cursed that he might be turned to ashes, but the curse took no effect on Medhavi who remained in perfect health.

Seeing this, the high-souled sage was puzzled and then remembered the gift Medhavi had been endowed with at birth.  Dhanushaksha took the form of a wild buffalo and by the power of his penances butted at the mountain and broke it to pieces and Medhavi fell down dead.

Bharadwaja concluded the story with this solemn warning to his son: "Learn wisdom from this old story. Be not ruined by vanity. Cultivate self-restraint. Do not transgress the limits of good conduct and do not be disrespectful to the great Raibhya."

It was springtime. The trees and creepers were beautiful with flowers and the whole forest was gorgeous with color and sweet with the song of birds.

The very earth seemed to be under the spell of the god of love. Paravasu's wife was strolling alone in the garden near the hermitage of Raibhya. She appeared more than human, in the sweet union in her of beauty, courage and purity.

At that time Yavakrida came there and was so overwhelmed by her loveliness that he completely lost his sense and self-control and became as a ravening beast with lust.

He accosted her and taking brutal advantage of her fear and shame and bewilderment, he dragged her to a lonely pot and violated her person.

Raibhya returned to his hermitage. He saw his daughter in-law weeping, broken-hearted and inconsolable and learning of the shameful outrage perpetrated on her, he was seized with implacable anger. He plucked a hair from his bead and offered it to the fire reciting a mantra.

At once, a maiden, as beautiful as his daughter-in-law, emerged from the sacrificial fire.

The sage plucked another hair from his knotted lock and offered it as oblation. A terrible ghost rose from the fire. The sage commanded them to kill Yavakrida. Both of them bowed to the order.

While Yavakrida was performing the morning rites, the female spirit went near him and with smiles and allurements put him off his guard and as she ran away with his water-jug, the male ghost rushed on him with uplifted spear.

Yavakrida stood up in fear. Knowing that his mantras would be of no avail until he cleansed himself with water, he looked for his water-jug. When he found it missing, he rushed to a pond for water but the pond was dry. He went to nearby stream, which also dried up at his approach.

There was no water for him anywhere. The terrible fiend pursued him everywhere and Yavakrida fled for his life, with the demon hot on his heels. His sin had consumed the power of his vigils and fasts. At last, he sought refuge in the sacrificial hall of his father.

The half-blind man who was guarding the hermitage stopped him as be could not recognise Yavakrida as, distorted with mortal fear, he sought to force his way in. Meanwhile, the fiend overtook him and killed him with his spear.

When Bharadvaja returned to his hermitage, he came upon his son's corpse and concluded that disrespect to Raibhya must have led to this cruel fate.

"Alas! My child, you died of your pride and vanity. Was it not a great mistake that you tried to learn the Vedas in a way not resorted to by any brahmana? Why did you behave so as to be cursed thus? May Raibhya, who caused the death of my only son, be himself killed by one of his sons!" Thus, carried away by rage and grief the sage cursed Raibhya.

Regaining control soon, he exclaimed in anguish: "Alas! They alone are blessed who have no sons. I have not only lost my only son, but in the madness of my grief I have also cursed my friend and companion. What is the use of continuing my life?" He cremated his son's body and died by throwing himself on the funeral pyre.

nusrat-diu:
35. Mere Learning Is Not Enough

KING Brihadyumna, a disciple of the sage Raibhya, performed a great sacrifice at which he requested his teacher to let his two sons Paravasu and Arvavasu officiate. With the permission of their father, both of them went joyfully to the capital of the king.

While arrangements were being made for the sacrifice, Paravasu desired one day to go and see his wife and, walking alone all night, he reached his hermitage before dawn. Near the hermitage, he saw in the twilight, what seemed to him a beast of prey crouching for a spring and, hurling his weapon at it, killed it.

But to his horror and grief, he discovered that he had killed his own father clad in skins, mistaking him for a wild denizen of the forest. He realised that the fatal mistake was the effect of the curse of Bharadwaja.

When he had hastily performed the funeral rites of his father, he went to Arvavasu and told him the doleful tale. He said: "But this mishap should not interfere with the sacrifice of the king. Please do the rites on my behalf in expiation of the sin I have unwittingly committed. There is, mercifully, atonement for sins committed in ignorance. If you can be my substitute here for undergoing the expiation I shall be able to go and assist in conducting the king's sacrifice. I can officiate unaided, which is a thing you cannot do as yet."

The virtuous brother agreed and said: "You may attend to the king's sacrifice. I shall do penance to free you from the terrible taint of having killed a father and a brahmana."

The virtuous Arvavasu, accordingly, took upon himself the expiatory rites on behalf of his brother. That done, he came to the court of the king to join his brother and assist in the sacrifice.

The sin of Paravasu was not washed off, since expiation cannot be by proxy. It tainted his mind with wicked designs.

Becoming jealous of the radiance on his brother's face, Paravasu decided to dishonor him by casting on him an unjustice as a person and accordingly, when Arvavasu entered the hall, Paravasu loudly exclaimed so that the king might hear:

"This man has committed the sin of killing a brahmana and how can he enter this holy sacrificial place?"

Arvavasu indignantly denied the accusation but none heeded him, and he was ignominiously expelled from that hall of sacrifice by the orders of the king.

Arvavasu repeatedly protested his innocence. "It is my brother who has committed the sin and even then it was through a mistake. I have saved him by performing expiatory rites."

This made matters worse for him for nobody believed that the expiation he had undergone was not for his own crime and everyone thought that he was adding false accusation against a blameless brother, to his other sins.

The virtuous Arvavasu who, besides being falsely accused of a monstrous crime, was also slandered as a liar, retreated to the forest in despair of finding justice in the world and betook himself to rigorous austerities.

The gods were gracious and asked him: "O virtuous soul, what is the boon you seek?" High thinking and deep meditation had in the meantime cleansed his heart of all anger at his brother's conduct; and so, he only prayed that his father might be restored to life and that his brother might be freed from wickedness and the sins that he had committed.

The gods granted his prayer.

Lomasa narrated this story to Yudhishthira at a place near Raibhya's hermitage and said: "O Pandavas, bathe here and wash off your passions in this holy river."

Arvavasu and Paravasu were both sons of a great scholar. Both of them learnt at his feet and became eminent scholars themselves.

But learning is one thing and virtue is quite another. It is true that one should know the difference between good and evil, if one is to seek good and shun evil. But this knowledge should soak into every thought and influence every act in one's life.

Then indeed knowledge becomes virtue. The knowledge that is merely so much undigested information crammed into the mind, cannot instill virtue.

It is just an outward show like our clothes and is no real part of us.

nusrat-diu:
36. Ashtavakra

WHILE the Pandavas were wandering among holy places in the forest, they came one day to the hermitage of the personages immortalized in the Upanishads. Lomasa told Yudhishthira the story of that place.

Udalaka, a great sage and teacher of Vedanta, had a disciple named Kagola, who was virtuous and devoted but had no great learning. So, the other disciples used to laugh and mock at him.

Uddalaka, however, attached no great weight to his disciple's lack of erudition but really appreciated his virtues, devotion and good conduct and gave his daughter Sujata in marriage to him.

The couple was blessed with a son. A child generally inherits the characteristics of both the parents. But fortunately the grandson of Uddalaka took after his grandfather rather than his father and knew the Vedas even while he was in his mother's womb.

When Kagola made mistakes, as he often did in reciting the Vedas, the child in the womb would twist his body with pain, and so it came to pass that he had eight crooked bends in his body when he was born.

These crooked bends earned him the name of Ashtavakra, which means "Eight crooked bends." Kagola, one ill-fated day, provoked a polemical contest with Vandi, the court scholar of Mithila, and, having been defeated, was made to drown himself.

Meanwhile Ashtavakra grew up to be a towering scholar even in his boyhood, and at the age of twelve he had already completed his study of the Vedas and the Vedanta.

One day, Ashtavakra learnt that Janaka, the king of Mithila was performing a great sacrifice in the course of which the assembled scholars would, as usual, debate on the sastras.

Ashtavakra set out for Mithila, accompanied by his uncle Svetaketu. On their way to the place of sacrifice at Mithila, they came across the king and his retinue.

The attendants of the king marched in front shouting: "Move away. Make way for the King." Ashtavakra instead of moving out of the way said to the retainers:

"O royal attendants, even the king, if he is righteous, has to move and make way for the blind, the deformed, the fair sex, persons bearing loads and brahmanas learned in the Vedas. This is the rule enjoined by the scriptures."

The king, surprised at these wise words of the brahmana boy, accepted the justness of the rebuke and made way, observing to his attendants: "What this brahmana stripling says is true. Fire is fire whether it is tiny or big and it has the power to burn."

Ashtavakra and Svetaketu entered the sacrificial hall. The gatekeeper stopped them and said: "Boys cannot go in. Only old men learned in the Vedas may go into the sacrificial hall."

Ashtavakra replied: "We are not mere boys. We have observed the necessary vows and have learnt the Vedas. Those who have mastered the truths of the Vedanta will not judge another on mere considerations of age or appearance."

The gatekeeper said: "Stop. Have done with your idle brag. How can you, a mere boy, have learnt and realised the Vedanta?"

The boy said: "You mean I am not big like an over-grown gourd with no substance in it? Size is no indication of knowledge or worth, nor is age. A very tall old man may be a tall old fool. Let me pass."

The gatekeeper said: "You are certainly not old, nor tall, though you talk like all the hoary sages. Get out."

Ashtavakra replied: "Gatekeeper, Grey hairs do not prove the ripeness of the soul. The really mature man is the one who has learnt the Vedas and the Vedangas, mastered their gist and realised their essence. I am here to meet the court pandit Vandi. Inform King Janaka of my desire."

At that moment the king himself came there and easily recognized Ashtavakra, the precociously wise boy he had met before.

The king asked: "Do you know that my court pandit Vandi has overthrown in argument many great scholars in the past and caused them to be cast into the ocean? Does that not deter you from this dangerous adventure?"

Ashtavakra replied: "Your eminent scholar has not hitherto encountered men like me who are proficient in the Vedas on Vedanta. He has become arrogant and vain with easy victories over good men who were not real scholars. I have come here to repay the debt due on account of my father, who was defeated by this man and made to drown himself, as I have heard from my mother. I have no doubt I shall vanquish Vandi, whom you will see crumple up like a broken-wheeled cart. Please summon him."

Ashtavakra met Vandi. They took up a debatable thesis and started an argument, each employing his utmost learning and wits to confound the other. And in the end the assembly unanimously declared the victory of Ashtavakra and the defeat of Vandi.

The court pandit of Mithila bowed his head and paid the forfeit by drowning himself in the ocean and going to the abode of Varuna.Then the spirit of Kagola, the father of Ashtavakra, gained peace and joy in the glory of his son.

The author of the epic instructs us through these words put in Kagola's mouth: "A son need not be like his father. A father who is physically weak may have a very strong son and an ignorant father may have a scholarly son. It is wrong to acesess the greatness of a man on his physical appearance or age. External appearances are deceptive."  Which shows that the unlearned Kagola was not devoid of common sense.
 
 

nusrat-diu:
37. Bhima And Hanuman

DRAUPADI used to complain frequently: "This Kamyaka forest is not beautiful without Arjuna. I find no joy in life in the absence of Arjuna."

The other Pandavas shared Draupadi's wretchedness at separation from Arjuna, who had gone to the Himalayas in quest of divine weapons.

Bhimasena told Draupadi: "Blessed lady, I myself feel the same about Arjuna and what you say makes me thrill with love and sympathy. Bereft of Arjuna, this beautiful forest seems desolate. My mind can know no peace without seeing Arjuna. Sahadeva, how do you feel?"

Sahadeva said: "This hermitage seems to be empty without Arjuna. We shall try whether a change of scene will help us to bear the pain of separation better."

Yudhishthira addressing his priest Dhaumya said: "I have sent my younger brother Arjuna to win divine weapons. That dauntless and dexterous hero has not yet returned. We have sent him to the Himalayas to get from Indra, the king of gods, weapons with which we could conquer Bhishma, Drona, Kripa and Aswatthama, since it is certain that these heroes will fight on the side of the sons of Dhritarashtra. Karna knows the secret of divine weapons, and his supreme wish is to fight with Arjuna. I have sent Arjuna to gain Indra's grace and get weapons from him as the Kaurava heroes can be defeated by no other means. Having sent him on a very difficult errand, we cannot live here happily, for we miss him in all our accustomed haunts. I wish to go elsewhere, for that may enable us to bear the separation better. Can you suggest where we could go?"

Dhaumya described many forests and holy places. The Pandavas went the round of those places to relieve themselves to some extent from the pangs of separation.

They spent many years in this pilgrimage and in listening to the traditions, which sanctified each shrine. Draupadi would often feel exhausted by having to traverse mountains and forests. Bhima, sometimes helped by his son Ghalotkacha, would serve and encourage them and make their labors easy.

In the course of their wanderings through the Himalayan regions they came to a terrible forest where the path was rugged and steep.

Yudhishthira was worried and told Bhima that the way would greatly distress Draupadi but that he himself would go on accompanied by Nakula and the sage Lomasa.

He suggested that Bhima and Sahadeva should stay behind at Gangadwara with Draupadi. Bhima would not agree. He said that the pain of separation from Arjuna ought to have taught his brother how much he would suffer if he were parted from Sahadeva, Draupadi and Bhima.

Besides, Bhima could not leave Yudhishthira alone in this forest infested with Rakshasas, demons and wild animals. The way was hard, but he could easily carry Draupadi across the most difficult parts of it. He could carry Nakula and Sahadeva also.

When Bhima said these words, Yudhishthira embraced him and blessed him and wished him an increase of physical strength. Draupadi smiled and said, addressing Yudhishthira: "No one need carry me. I can walk. Do not be anxious about me."

They reached Kulinda, the kingdom of Subahu, on the Himalayas. They accepted the honors rendered to them by that king and rested there awhile. Later on, they went to the charming forest of Narayanasrama and halted there.

One day, a breeze that blew from the northeast wafted a beautiful flower near Draupadi. Draupadi took it in her hands and was so charmed with its fragrance and beauty that she showed it rapturously to Bhima.

"Come and see this flower. What a sweet fragrance! How charming! I shall hand this over to Yudhishthira. Bring some flowers of this kind. We should grow this plant in our Kamyaka forest." Draupadi ran to give the flower to Yudhishthira.

Anxious to please his beloved Draupadi, Bhima went in quest of that plant. He went alone in the direction from which the fragrance seemed to be borne by the breeze, without wasting a thought on the wild beasts that crossed his path.

He presently came to a garden of plantain trees at the foot of a mountain, and there he saw a huge monkey shining like blazing fire, which lay right across his path blocking it.

He tried to frighten the animal out of his way by shouting at it. It only half opened its eyes lazily and drawled: "I am indisposed and so I am lying here. Why lid you wake me? You are a wise human being and I am mere animal. It is proper that the rational man should show mercy to animals as interior creatures. I am afraid you are ignorant of right and wrong. Who are you? Whither are you bound? It is not possible to go further along this mountain path which is the path of the gods. Men cannot cross this limit. Eat what you like of the fruits of this place and if you are wise, go back in peace."

Bhima, unused to being taken so lightly, grew angry and shouted: "Who are you, yourself, you monkey, that indulges in such tall talk? I am a kshatriya hero, a descendant of the Kuru race and a son of Kunti. Know that I am the son of the Wind god. Now move away from the path or stop me at your peril."

Hearing these words the monkey merely smiled and said: "I am, as you say, a monkey, but you will come to destruction if you try to force a way."

Bhima said: "I do not want your advice and it is no concern of yours if I go to destruction. Get up and move out of the way or I will make you."

The monkey replied: "I have no strength to stand up, being but a very old monkey. If you have to go at any cost, jump over me."

Bhima said: "Nothing could be easier but the scriptures forbid it. Otherwise I should jump over you and the mountain in one bound, like Hanuman crossing the ocean."

The monkey remarked as though in surprise: "O best of men, who is that Hanuman who crossed the ocean? If you know his story, enlighten me."

Bhima roared and said: "Have you not heard of Hanuman, my elder brother, who crossed the ocean, a hundred yojanas in breadth, to seek and find Sita, the wife of Rama? I am equal to him in strength and heroism. Well, that is enough talk, now get up and make way and do not provoke me to do you some harm."

The monkey answered: "O mighty hero, be patient. Be gentle as you are strong, and have mercy on the old and weak. I have no strength to rise up as I am decrepit with age. Since you have scruples in jumping over me, kindly move aside my tail and make a path for yourself."

Proud of his immense strength, Bhima thought to pull the monkey out of the way by its tail. But, to his amazement he could not move it in the least, though he exerted all his strength.

He set his jaws and strained every muscle till the very sinews cracked and he was covered with perspiration. But, still, could not move that tail the least, a little bit up or down or sideways. In shame, he bent down his head, and then asked in a chastened mood:

"Who are you? Forgive me and reveal to me whether you are a Siddha, god or Gandharva." Bhima like most strong men, was all respect when he saw one stronger than himself, and spoke like a pupil addressing his master.

Hanuman replied: "O mighty-armed Pandava, know that I am your brother, even that Hanuman, the son of the Wind god, whom you mentioned a little while ago. If you go on this path, which is the road to the spirit-world where the Yakshas and the Rakshasas abide, you will meet with danger and that is why I stop you. No man can go beyond this and live. But here is the stream with its depths where you can find the Saugandhika plant you came to seek."

Bhima was transported with delight: "I count myself the most fortunate of men in that I have been blessed to meet my brother. I wish to see the form in which you crossed the ocean," and he prostrated before Hanuman.

Hanuman smiled and began to increase the size of his body and stood forth firmly to the world like a mountain  seeming to fill the landscape.

Bhima was thrilled at actually seeing that divine form of this elder brother, the mere description of which had till then filled him with wonder. He covered his eyes, unable to bear the dazzling light radiating from that figure.

Hanuman said: "Bhima, in the presence of my enemies, my body can grow still more." And Hanuman contracted his body, resuming his former size. He tenderly embraced Bhimasena.

Bhagavan Vyasa says that Bhima felt completely refreshed and became much stronger than before by the embrace of Hanuman.

Hanuman said: "O hero, go to your abode. Think of me whenever you are in need. I felt the same delight when I embraced you that I had in times of yore when I was fortunate enough to touch the divine body of Sri Rama. Ask any boon that you like."

Bhima said: "Blessed are the Pandavas for I have had the good fortune to see you. Inspired with your strength we are sure to conquer our enemies."

Hanuman gave this parting blessing to his brother:

"While you roar like a lion in the battlefield, my voice shall join yours and strike terror into the hearts of your enemies. I shall be present on the flag of the chariot of your brother Arjuna. You will be victorious."

Hanuman pointed out to Bhima the stream nearby, where grew the Saugandhika flowers he had come to seek.

This put Bhima at once in mind of Draupadi who was waiting for his return, and he collected the flowers and returned to her without delay.
 
 

nusrat-diu:
38. I am No Crane

ONCE the sage Markandeya came to see the Pandavas. Yudhishthira happened to talk of the virtues of the fair sex and said:

"What greater wonder is there in this world than the patience and the chastity of woman? She gives birth to a child after cherishing it in her womb as dearer than life itself. She brings it into the world inpain and anxiety and thence forward her one thought is for its health and happiness. Large hearted and forgiving, a woman forgives and continues to love even a wicked husband who neglects and hates and subjects her to all sorts of miseries. How strange!"

Hearing this Markandeya told him a sacred story.

There was once a brahmana, named Kausika who observed his vow of brahmacharya. with great steadfastness and devotion.

One day, he sat under a tree reciting the Vedas. A crane, perched on the top of the tree, defiled his head with its droppings. He looked up at it, and his angry look killed the bird and it fell down dead.

The brahmana was pained when he saw the dead bird lying on the ground.

How frightful it would be if wishes fulfilled themselves, if each hasty or angry wish took effect at once! How much there would be to regret or repent afterwards! It is lucky for us that wishes depend onoutward circumstances for accomplishment, since that saves us from much sin and sorrow.

Kausika sorrowed that the evil thought that passed in his mind in a moment of anger had killed an innocent bird. Some time later, he went as usual to beg alms.

He stood before the door of a house to receive his dole. The housewife was cleansing utensils at that time. Kausika waited in the hope that she would attend to him after her work was over.

In the meantime the master of the house returned, tired and hungry, and the wife had to attend to his wants, wash and dry his feet and serve him with food.

In this preoccupation she seemed to have forgotten the mendicant waiting outside. After her husband had been cared for and fed, she came out with alms to the mendicant.

She said: "I am sorry to have kept you waiting long. Pardon me."

Kausika, burning with anger, said: "Lady, you have made me wait for such a long time. This indifference is not fair."

The woman told the brahmana: "Best of brahmanas, kindly do forgive me. I was serving my husband and hence the delay."

The brahmana remarked: "It is right and proper to attend on the husband, but the brahmana also should not be disregarded. You seem an arrogant woman."

She said: "Be not angry with me and remember that I kept you waiting only because I was dutifully serving my husband. I am no crane to be killed by a violent thought and your rage can do no harm to the woman who devotes herself to the service of her husband."

The brahmana was taken aback. He wondered how the woman knew of the crane incident.

She continued: "O great one, you do not know the secret of duty, and you are also not aware that anger is the greatest enemy that dwells in man. Forgive the delay in attending to you. Go to Mithila and be instructed in the secret of good life by Dharmavyadha living in that city."

The brahmana was amazed. He said: "I deserve your just admonition and it will do me good. May all good attend you." With these words he went to Mithila.

Kausika reached Mithila and looked for Dharmavyadha's residence, which he thought would be some lonely hermitage far from the noise and bustle of common life.

He walked along magnificent roads between beautiful houses and gardens in that great city and finally reached a butcher's shop, in which was a man selling meat. His amazement was great when he learnt that this man was Dharmavyadha.

The brahmana was shocked beyond measure and stood at a distance in disgust. The butcher suddenly rose from his seat, came to the brahmana and inquired: "Revered sir, are you well? Did that chaste brahmana lady send you to me?"

The brahmana was stupefied.

"Revered sir, I know why you have come. Let us go home," said the butcher and he took the brahmana to his house where he saw a happy family and was greatly struck by the devotion with which the butcher served his parents.

Kausika took his lessons from that butcher on dharma, man's calling and duty. Afterwards, the brahmana returned to his house and began to tend his parents, a duty, which he had rather neglected before.

The moral of this striking story of Dharmavyadha so skillfully woven by Vedavyasa into the Mahabharata, is the same as the teaching of the Gita. Man reaches perfection by the honest pursuit of whatever calling falls to his lot in life, and that this is really worship of God who created and pervades all. (Bhagavad Gita, XVIII, 45-46)

The occupation may be one he is born to in society or it may have been forced on him by circumstances or be may have taken it up by choice. But what really matters is the spirit of sincerity and faithfulness with which be does his life's work.

Vedavyasa emphasizes this great truth by making a scholarly brahmana, who did not know it, learn it from a butcher, who lived it in his humble and despised life.
 
 

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