The child was abandoned on the forest floor by both her parents; by her father because she represented his monumental failure and by her mother because she was nothing more than proof of her success.
A Rishi called Kanva found the abandoned girl under the wings of a flock of Shakun birds who had surrounded her. So he named her Shakuntala, she who was found sheltered by birds. Kanva raised Shakuntala as his own daughter in his hermitage in the forest, and she grew up to be a very beautiful and cultured woman.
One day, Dushyanta, descendant of Pururava, arrived at Kanva’s hermitage. He was hunting in the forest and wanted to pay his respects to the sage, and maybe rest for a few days in the hermitage. Unfortunately, Kanva was away on a pilgrimage; he found himself being welcomed by Shakuntala. Dushyanta fell in love with Shakuntala instantly.
‘Marry me,’ he said, unable to control his desire.
‘Ask my father,’ said a coy Shakuntala.
‘If you wish, we can marry as the Gandharvas do with the trees as our witness. This is allowed by tradition,’ said Dushyanta. The innocent Shakuntala, smitten by the handsome king, agreed.
So the two got married with the trees as their witness and spent days in the hermitage making love. Finally, it was time for Dushyanta to return home. Kanva had still not returned and Dushyanta could not wait any longer. ‘It is not right to take you with me while he is away. I will return when he is back,’ he promised.
Many weeks later Kanva returned. No sooner did he enter his hermitage than he realized his daughter was in love, and that she was carrying her beloved’s child. He was overjoyed. Both celebrated the event and waited for Dushyanta to return. Days turned into weeks. Weeks turned into months. There was no sign of Dushyanta.
In due course, Shakuntala gave birth to a son who was named Bharata. Bharata grew up in the care of Kanva and Shakuntala. Father and daughter forgot all about Dushyanta’s promise until Bharata one day asked, ‘Who is my father?’
‘He needs to know,’ said Kanva.
Rather than wait for Dushyanta to send an invitation, Kanva felt it was best that Shakuntala go to Dushyanta on her own and introduce the boy to his father. Shakuntala agreed and, with her son by her side, ventured out of the forest for the first time. As she left, the trees gifted her with cloth and flowers and fragrances so that she looked beautiful when she met her beloved again.
But when Shakuntala stood before Dushyanta and introduced herself and her son, Dushyanta showed no sign of recognizing her. ‘Are there any witnesses of our alleged marriage?’ he asked caustically.
‘The trees,’ she said.
Everyone including Dushyanta laughed. Shakuntala, a simple woman of the forest, uncontaminated by the politics of kings and kingdoms, was indignant. ‘I came here not seeking a husband but to show my son his father. I have done so. I have raised him as a mother should. Now, I request you to raise him as a father should.’ So saying, Shakuntala turned her back to Dushyanta and proceeded for the forest.
Suddenly, a voice boomed from the sky admonishing Dushyanta for doubting Shakuntala. She was indeed his wife and Bharata was indeed his son. Dushyanta apologized for his behaviour and blamed it all on his fear of social disapproval. He then declared Shakuntala his queen and Bharata his heir.
Bharata was one of those unique kings who descended from the solar line of kings through his mother, Shakuntala, and from the lunar line of kings through his father, Dushyanta. Since his descendants ruled all of Jambudvipa, the rose-apple continent of India, the land itself was named Bharata-varsha, or simply Bharata, after him.
Tapa means spiritual fire that is generated through ascetic practices known as tapasya. The conflict between a Tapasvin or fire-churning hermit and an Apsara or water-nymph is a recurring theme in the scriptures. It is the conflict between spirituality and sensuality. Spirituality earns merit and gives one access to the pleasures of the world, but indulgence in sensual pleasures causes loss of merit. Hence, there is constantly a conflict between the hermit and the nymph.
Shakuntala’s story in the Mahabharata is quite different from Kalidasa’s very popular Sanskrit play written around 500 CE. In Kalidasa’s play, Shakuntala is brought to Dushyanta as soon as her father discovers she is pregnant but due to a Rishi’s curse Dushyanta is unable to recollect her. In Vyasa’s epic, Shakuntala comes to Dushyanta years later when her son enquires who his father is—Dushyanta pretends not to recognize her to protect his reputation. Kalidasa’s Shakuntala seeks her husband while Mahabharata’s Shakuntala seeks her son’s father. Kalidasa’s Shakuntala is very conscious of social stigma while Mahabharata’s Shakuntala is indifferent to it. This perhaps is a reflection of change in social values over time.
5
Bharata’s heir
Bharata grew up to be a great king. He had three wives. Every time they presented a son to him, he would say, ‘He does not look like me,’ or ‘He does not behave like me,’ perhaps suggesting his wives were unfaithful to him or that the children were unworthy. In fear, Bharata’s wives abandoned these children.
A time came when Bharata was old and had no heirs. So he performed a yagna. At the end of the yagna, the Devas gave him a son called Vitatha.
Vitatha was conceived when Brihaspati, in an uncharacteristic moment of lust, had forced himself on his sister-in-law, Mamata, wife of Utathya.
Both Brihaspati and Mamata rejected this child, Brihaspati because the child reminded him of his moment of weakness and Mamata because this child was forced upon her. Vitatha was thus, like Shakuntala, a child abandoned by his parents. He was accepted by the Devas who passed him on to Bharata.
Vitatha grew up to be an extremely capable ruler and so despite being adopted, was crowned king by Bharata.
For Bharata the criteria for kingship rested in worthiness, not bloodline. This made Bharata the noblest of kings in the eyes of the people. This was, perhaps, another reason why the rose-apple continent of Jambudvipa came to be known as Bharata-varsha, or simply Bharat, the land that was once ruled by one such as Bharata.
Later kings did not follow in Bharata’s footsteps. Dhritarashtra preferred his son, Duryodhana, over his nephew, Yudhishtira, even though the latter was clearly more worthy.
The epic states that when Brihaspati came to Mamata she turned him away not because she was married to another man, his brother Utathya, but because she was already pregnant. This perhaps reveals an ancient practice of sharing wives between brothers.
The child in Mamata’s womb is cursed that he will be born blind. So is born a sage called Dirghatamas. Dirghatamas has a wife called Pradweshi who tired of taking care of her blind husband has her sons throw him into the river. Dirghatamas survives by clinging to a tree trunk and is found by a childless king, Vali, who requests Dirghatamas to go to his wife Sudeshna and make her pregnant. So are born the kings who rule the eastern kingdoms of Anga, Vanga and Kalinga.
The story of Vitatha, which comes from a slip of a verse in the scriptures, draws attention to a question that bothered Vyasa: Who should be king? The son of a king or any worthy man? This theme recurs through the epic.
6
Yayati’s demand
Sarmishtha was the daughter of Vishaparva, king of the Asuras and Devayani was the daughter of Shukra, guru of the Asuras. They were both the best of friends. But one day they had a fight.
After a swim in a pond, while dressing up hurriedly, Devayani wore Sarmishtha’s robes by mistake. A livid Sarmishtha called Devayani a thief and her father a beggar. She then pushed Devayani into a well and walked away in a royal huff.
When Devayani returned home late in the evening, she related the events to her father and raised a storm of tears and wailing until her father promised he would teach the Asura princess a lesson. ‘Until the king apologizes for his daughter’s behaviour, I will not perform any yagna for them,’ said Shukra.
Vishaparva begged Shukra to change his mind and restart the yagnas; without them he was powerless against his eternal enemies, the Devas. ‘I w
ill,’ said Shukra, ‘but only if you punish your venom-tongued daughter. Make Sarmishtha my daughter’s maid and I will return to your sacrificial hall.’
Vishaparva had no choice but to agree. The princess Sarmishtha was thus made to serve Devayani as her lady-in-waiting. This humiliation, however, turned out to be a blessing in disguise.
It so happened that the man who had rescued Devayani from the well she had been pushed into by Sarmishtha was Yayati, a Chandra-vamsi. During the rescue, Yayati had held Devayani by her hand. ‘As you have held me, a virgin, by my hand, you are obliged to take me as your wife,’ said Devayani to Yayati, quoting the scriptures.
‘So be it,’ said Yayati, who was equally well informed about the scriptures. He came to Shukra’s hermitage, and with his blessings took Devayani to his kingdom as his lawfully wedded wife.
‘Let my maid accompany me,’ said Devayani, eager to continue the humiliation of Sarmishtha.
‘As you wish, my queen,’ said Yayati. Sarmishtha had no choice but to accompany Devayani to her husband’s house as a maid.
One day, Sarmishtha caught the eye of Yayati. It was love at first sight. Unlike Devayani, who had priestly blood in her veins, Sarmishtha had royal blood in her veins, and spirit to match. And this pleased Yayati greatly. The two got married secretly and even had children.
Devayani had no knowledge of this; Sarmishtha managed to convince her that her lover was a palace guard. But one day, Devayani heard Sarmishtha’s son refer to Yayati as father. Realizing she had been duped both by her husband and her maid, an enraged Devayani left the palace and ran back to her father and once again, at her behest, Shukra promised to teach her husband a lesson.
Shukra cursed Yayati, ‘You will become old and impotent.’ The curse took immediate effect. But it was soon clear that the one most to suffer from the curse was Devayani herself. An old and weak husband is of no value to anyone! Shukra, however, could not reverse his curse. All he could do was modify it. ‘You will regain your youth and your potency, Yayati, if one of your sons accepts the curse on your behalf.’
Yayati immediately sent for his sons. Yadu, the eldest son, born of Devayani, refused to suffer on his father’s behalf. ‘Is it not against dharma to reverse the march of time, make the son renounce the world when it is time for the father to do so?’ he asked.
Yayati then turned to Puru, his youngest son, born of Sarmishtha. Puru agreed.
So it came to pass that Puru suffered old age while his father enjoyed his youth. He coughed and stammered and stooped on a stick while Yayati embraced his wives and went on hunts and fought wars.
Years later, realizing that youth and virility do not bring contentment, Yayati relieved Puru from the effects of his curse.
When the time came to announce a successor, Yayati declared Puru, though youngest, as his heir. ‘Because he suffered for me,’ explained Yayati. Yadu, though eldest, was not only denied the throne but also cursed, ‘Since you refused to suffer for your father, neither you nor your descendants will ever be kings.’
An indignant Yadu left Yayati’s kingdom and travelled south to Mathura, the kingdom of the Naga people. There his beauty and mannerisms impressed a Naga called Dhumravarna. ‘Marry my daughters. Be my son-in-law. Make Mathura your home,’ he said. Yadu agreed because the Nagas of Mathura had no king; they were ruled by a council of elders through the system of consensus. This suited him well. Cursed, he could not be king. Still, in Mathura, he could be ruler. Yadu married Dhumravarna’s daughters and they bore him children from whom descended various tribes such as the Andhakas, the Bhojakas and the Vrishnis. Collectively, these descendants of Yadu were called the Yadavas.
Krishna would be born in the Yadava clan. Like other Yadavas, he would never be king, only a kingmaker.
Puru became the patriarch of the illustrious Kuru clan. From him descended the Kauravas and the Pandavas.
The curse of Yayati sowed the seeds of the war that would take place much later in Kuru-kshetra: for it gave greater value to a son’s obedience than to the natural march of generations. Inspired by this event, Bhishma would sacrifice his own conjugal life to enable his old father to remarry.
The alternating fortunes of Devayani and Sarmishtha draw attention to the nature of karma—what seems like bad luck (Devayani being pushed into a well, Sarmishtha being reduced to a maid) ends up as good luck (Devayani finds a husband, Sarmishtha finds love). Even Shukra’s curse does not have the desired effect—it punishes the daughter more than the son-in-law. Thus no one on earth can foretell the consequences of any action, however wise he may be.
The psychoanalyst Freud proposed the theory of the Oedipus complex based on Greek myths to explain the human need to compete with the father for the mother’s affections. The son always triumphs over the father and is consequently consumed by guilt. Indian psychoanalysts believe that this concept is inadequate in the Indian context, where the tendency is for the son to submit to the father and be revered for it. They have proposed the theory of the Yayati complex instead where the father demands and secures a sacrifice from the son. In the Greek worldview, dominated by the Oedipus complex, it is the next generation which inherits society, while in the Indian worldview, dominated by the Yayati complex, it is the older generation which always dominates society, explaining the stranglehold of tradition over modernity in Indian society.
Though the Chandra-vamsis originally sprang from Devas, Yayati’s marriage to the daughters of an Asura king and an Asura priest, and the marriage of Yadu to Naga women, indicate the mingling of races and tribes. Janamejaya, who performed a sacrifice to kill the Nagas, was actually killing a race of people related to his ancestors by marriage.
In Vedic times, men were allowed to marry women who belonged to their station in life or to those who belonged to lower stations. Yayati’s marriage to Devayani is a departure; she is the daughter of a priest hence of higher station. This was a pratiloma marriage—inappropriate according to the scriptures. His association with Sarmishtha, a princess-maid, was an anuloma marriage and was deemed more appropriate as it was with a woman of inferior rank. Puru, the child of Sarmishtha, is therefore projected as a more suitable son than Yadu, son of Devayani.
Historians believe that the ruling council of Mathura indicates that the Nagas were a tribe that followed an early form of democracy. Perhaps they were descendants of or related to Indo-Greeks who settled in India following the invasion of Alexander.
The story of the descendants of Yadu through Naga women comes from Karavir Mahatmya that narrates the local legends of Kolhapur, the temple town of Maharashtra. It is narrated to Krishna by a Yadava elder called Vikadru.
7
Madhavi’s forgiveness
Yayati had a daughter called Madhavi who was destined to be the mother of four kings. One day, a sage called Galava came to Yayati and asked for eight hundred white horses with one black ear, which he wished to give to his guru, Vishwamitra.
Yayati did not have these horses. Not wanting to turn the sage away empty-handed, he offered the sage his daughter, Madhavi. ‘Offer her to four men who want to be the father of a king and ask them for two hundred such horses in exchange,’ said Yayati.
Accordingly, Galava offered Madhavi to the kings of the earth. Three kings accepted the offer: they begat sons on Madhavi, enabling Galava to obtain six hundred horses. Finally, he went to his teacher and said, ‘Here are six hundred of the eight hundred horses that you wanted. You can beget a son on this maiden, Madhavi, daughter of Yayati, and that will be equal to the remaining two hundred horses.’ Vishwamitra accepted the horses and the maiden and fathered a son on her. Thus was Galava’s fee repaid.
After bearing four sons, Madhavi returned to her father. He offered to get her married. But she chose to become an ascetic.
After passing on the crown to Puru, Yayati renounced the world and ascended to Swarga. He enjoyed the pleasures of paradise for a very short while. Then the gods cast him out. When he asked for an explanation, the gods said,
‘Because you Yayati have exhausted all your merits.’
Yayati fell on earth in a forest where his daughter, Madhavi, was performing tapasya. Feeling sorry for her father, she went to her four sons, who were now illustrious kings, and requested them to give a quarter of their merits to their grandfather. At first the sons refused. ‘How can you ask us to give our merits to the man who treated you like a commodity, passing you from king to king so that he could benefit from the trade?’
And Madhavi replied, ‘Because he is my father and you are my sons. Nothing will change what he did. And because I realize the futility of rage and know the power of forgiveness.’ Enlightened by their mother’s words, the four sons of Madhavi did as their mother requested. They gave their grandfather a portion of their merits.
Yayati, once again the bearer of merit, thanked his daughter and returned to the paradise of the gods.
The wisdom of Madhavi was forgotten as the years passed. And neither the Pandavas nor the Kauravas learnt the value of forgiveness, something that ultimately cost the Kuru clan dearly.
Yayati’s tale elaborates the concept of karma. Merit and demerit can pass through generations. A father’s paap can be passed on to his sons and so Yayati’s curse is endured by Yadu and his descendants. Likewise, a father can benefit from the punya of his children. And so, Madhavi’s sons are able to restore their grandfather back to heaven.
Yayati exploits his sons and daughters. Puru suffers his father’s curse while Madhavi is effectively prostituted by Galava. Puru benefits from his suffering; he becomes king. Madhavi, however, retires to the forest and is able to shed her rage over time. She even forgives her father and helps him ascend to heaven. The theme of asceticism as a practice to rid oneself of rage is a recurring theme in the Mahabharata.
Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata Page 3