Exasperated, Yama said, ‘I give you three boons, anything but the life of your husband. Take them and go.’ Savitri bowed her head respectfully and for her first boon asked that her father-in-law should regain his lost kingdom. As her second boon she asked that her father be blessed with a son. As her third boon she asked that she be the mother of Satyavan’s sons.
Yama gave Savitri all three boons and continued on his journey to the land of the dead. Just when he reached the banks of the river Vaitarni which separates the land of the living from the land of the dead, Yama found Savitri still following him. ‘I told you to take your three boons and not follow me.’
Savitri once again bowed her head respectfully and said, ‘The first boon has come true. My father-in-law has regained his lost kingdom. The second boon has come true. My father has a son now. But the third boon. How will it be fulfilled? How can I be the mother of my husband’s sons when he lies dead on the forest floor? I came to ask you that.’
Yama smiled for he realized Savitri had outwitted him. The only way his third boon could be realized was by letting Satyavan live once again. He had no choice but to let Satyavan live.
Thus Savitri was able to rewrite not only her own future but the futures of her father-in-law and father.
The story of Savitri is unique as it challenges the traditional notion of Indians being fatalistic. It clearly shows that since Vedic times, Indians have been grappling with the conflict between fate and free will, destiny and desire. The Veda states that desire is the root of creation. Thus desire plays an important role in shaping the future as does destiny. In the Upanishads, Yagnavalkya says that life’s chariot has two wheels—desire and destiny. One can depend on one or both. Savitri changes her destiny through intense desire manifesting as unshakeable will. Herein lies the root of the rituals known as ‘vrata’ observed by Hindu women. Through fasting and all-night vigils they express their desire and determination and thereby hope to influence the destinies of their households.
64
Trapped by Nahusha
One day, while hunting in the forest, Bhima was caught in the coils of a giant python. This was no ordinary snake; he spoke. ‘I was once Nahusha, descendant of Pururava,’ said the python. ‘I was so great a king that I was made temporary ruler of Amravati by the Devas while their king, Indra, was away, meditating to cleanse himself of a crime he had committed. While in paradise, I got to sit on Indra’s elephant and wield his thunderbolt. This newfound power so corrupted me that I felt that I should have access to Indra’s queen, Sachi, too. The queen was naturally not amused by my proposition. To teach me a lesson, she said she would allow me to come to her bed only if I came to her palace on a palanquin borne by the Sapta Rishis, the seven celestial guardians of the Veda. I foolishly agreed and forced the venerable sages to serve as my palanquin bearers. I was in such a hurry to reach Sachi’s palace that I kicked Rishi Agastya on his head because he was walking too slowly. Agastya was so infuriated with my open display of lust and disrespect, that he said I was unbecoming of the position bestowed upon me by the gods. He cursed me to fall from the skies and return to earth not as a king, or even a human, but as a python, forever moving on my stomach, waiting for food to come to me. I will be released from this wretched body the day my descendant called Yudhishtira teaches me the true meaning of Brahman.’
Bhima tried to tell the python that he was Yudhishtira’s brother but the python did not believe him. He opened his jaws intent on swallowing Bhima. ‘Help, brother, help,’ shouted Bhima. Hearing Bhima’s cry, the Pandava brothers rushed to his rescue. ‘Stop, don’t eat my brother,’ said Yudhishtira. ‘Eat me, instead. I am Yudhishtira, son of Pandu.’
Hearing this name, the serpent stopped. Loosening his grip around Bhima, he said, ‘If you are who you claim to be, answer my question and you will release not just your brother but also me from this terrible situation. Tell me: who is a Brahman?’
To this Yudhishtira, enlightened by years of discussions with Rishis, said, ‘He is not the son of a Brahman as most people believe. He is one who by mastering his senses and by disciplining his mind has attained Brahma-vidya, knowledge of the eternal, infinite and boundless soul. This makes him content and gentle and generous, for he is one with the truth.’
Hearing this answer, the serpent was filled with joy. He released Bhima and was himself released from his body. Acquiring a celestial form, he blessed Bhima and Yudhishtira and rose to Swarga.
The brothers returned to their camp and were received by all who were worried about their long disappearance.
Sachi, the wife of Indra, is considered to be a form of Lakshmi. She is the goddess of fortune. It is said that any one can become an Indra by earning more merit than the previous Indra. On becoming an Indra, one has access to Sachi. Sachi is faithful to the rank of Indra, not to the person who is Indra. Nahusha is not yet Indra; he is a temporary replacement, a lesser being. Though not worthy, he dares desire Sachi and thus pays for it. The tale is less about morality (do not desire the wife of another man) and more about prudence (do not aspire for things until you are worthy).
Scriptures state that the five Pandavas were Indras in their previous lives and that their common wife, Draupadi, was Sachi.
As in the dialogue between Yudhishtira and Nahusha, the Mahabharata repeatedly states that one becomes a Brahman not by birth but by effort. Thus the epic challenges the traditional understanding of caste.
65
The Yaksha’s questions
Yudhishtira, one day, had a dream. He saw a deer weeping, begging him to leave the forest and return to where he came from. ‘In all these years, you and your brothers have hunted down so many of us that our numbers have dwindled. Please go back. Your days in exile are almost over. Go home. Leave Dwaita-vana.’
Yudhishtira immediately decided to make his way out of Dwaitavana. He returned to Kamyaka woods.
There a Rishi came to the Pandavas for help. ‘The sticks that I use to produce fire for my rituals were hanging on the branches of a tree. They got entangled in the horns of an antelope. Can you bring them back for me? I am no hunter. But I know the pond where the antelope goes to drink water every evening.’
Since it was a simple mission, Yudhishtira ordered Nakula to hunt down the deer. Nakula soon caught sight of the deer next to a pond, but it ran away as fast as the wind. Suddenly thirsty, Nakula decided to drink some water from the pond before pursuing the deer. As he was about to take a sip, he heard a voice, ‘I am the Yaksha, lord of this lake. You may drink after answering my questions.’ Nakula looked all round and saw no one. Without heeding the words he had heard, he drank the water cupped in his hands. He fell down dead at once.
Yudhishtira sent his other brothers one after another, to look for those who had not come back and to bring water; but the same fate befell all of them.
Finally, Yudhishtira hurried to the spot. He was taken aback to see his brothers lying dead on the ground. There was no one anywhere nearby! Nor was there any sign of wild animals! And none of his brothers were hurt. As he too was fatigued by thirst, as his brothers were when they reached the pond, he decided to drink some water before investigating further. Like his brothers before him, he heard a voice, ‘I am the Yaksha, lord of this lake. You may drink after answering my questions.’
Yudhishtira immediately let go of the water he had cupped in his hands. ‘Are you the one who has hurt my brothers?’
‘Yes,’ said the voice. ‘They disregarded my warning.’ The Yaksha then appeared before Yudhishtira.
‘I shall answer your questions as best as I can,’ said Yudhishtira.
‘Who makes the sun rise?’ asked the Yaksha.
‘God,’ replied Yudhishtira.
‘And set?’
‘The sun’s natural duty, its dharma.’
‘In whom is the sun established?’
‘In truth.’
‘Where is truth captured?’
‘In the Veda.’
‘What makes a
Brahman?’
‘Understanding of the Veda.’
‘What makes Brahmans worthy of worship?’
‘Ability to control their mind.’
‘What makes Kshatriyas powerful?’
‘Their weapons.’
‘What makes them noble?’
‘Their charity.’
‘When is a man who is alive considered to be dead?’
‘When he does not share his wealth with gods, guests, servants, animals and ancestors.’
‘What is faster than the wind?’
‘The mind.’
‘More numerous than grass?’
‘Thoughts.’
‘What is more valuable than gold?’
‘Knowledge.’
‘More desirable than wealth?’
‘Health.’
‘Most desired form of happiness?’
‘Contentment.’
‘What is the greatest deed?’
‘Non-violence.’
‘What measures a man?’
‘Conduct.’
‘What is forgiveness?’
‘Enduring the worst of enemies.’
‘What is mercy?’
‘Wishing happiness to all.’
‘What is simplicity?’
‘Equanimity.’
‘What is the only thing man can conquer?’
‘His own mind.’
‘What when renounced makes one agreeable?’
‘Pride.’
‘What when renounced makes one wealthy?’
‘Desire.’
‘Who is man’s most dreaded enemy?’
‘Anger.’
‘What is the worst disease?’
‘Greed.’
‘What is charity?’
‘Helping the helpless.’
‘What is the most amazing thing about the world?’
‘Every day creatures die, yet the rest live as if immortal.’
‘How does one know the true path?’
‘Not through arguments—they never reach a conclusion; not from teachers—they can only give their opinions; to know the true path one must, in silence and solitude, reflect on one’s own life.’
The Yaksha proceeded to ask many more questions, on the nature of the world, society and the soul. Yudhishtira’s answers impressed him greatly. Finally, he said, ‘I shall let one of your brothers live. Who shall it be?’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Yudhishtira said, ‘Nakula.’
‘Why him? A stepbrother? Why not Bhima or Arjuna, who are powerful warriors critical to protect your kingship?’
Yudhishtira replied, ‘My father had two wives. I, the son of Kunti, am alive. Surely a son of Madri must be kept alive too.’
Impressed by Yudhishtira’s sense of fair play, the Yaksha revealed his true identity. He was Yama, also known as Dharma, Yudhishtira’s father. He restored all the four Pandavas to life.
The Pandavas, reborn and refreshed, then hunted down the deer, untangled the fire sticks from its horns and returned them to the Rishi who performed a yagna to thank the Pandavas.
That the Yaksha takes the form of a heron, or a goose, is significant because heron and geese are associated with Saraswati, goddess of knowledge. They represent the power of the mind to discriminate. Just as the mythical heron and goose can separate milk from water, so can the discriminating mind separate truth from falsehood.
Yudhishtira’s brothers disregard the Yaksha and drink the water before answering questions. In other words, they do not think before acting. Yudhishtira, who did not think before gambling away his brothers and wife, has clearly been transformed by the exile. He answers the questions before drinking the water.
Traditionally, in India, all things in nature—trees, caves, lakes, ponds—have guardian and resident spirits. Hence, before occupying a piece of land or plucking a fruit or drinking water, one must make offerings to the guardian deity. They are commonly known as Yakshas, visualized as misshapen, short and corpulent beings.
During the gambling match, Yudhishtira first gambled away his stepbrothers, the sons of Madri, before gambling his own brothers, the sons of Kunti. In this episode with the Yaksha, he rescues his stepbrother first, thereby undoing the wrong he committed in the gambling hall. This indicates Yudhishtira has changed.
In the forest, the sons of Kunti encounter the three gods who made their mother pregnant. Yudhishtira meets Yama, Arjuna meets Indra, and Bhima meets Hanuman, his brother, the other son of Vayu, god of the wind. These three meetings have a major transformatory effect. All three are humbled and enlightened by their divine fathers. The exile is clearly a time when the Pandavas are transformed through stories and adventures.
Book Twelve
Hiding
‘Janamejaya, once kings and gamblers, your ancestors were reduced to servants, stripped of all identity and respect.’
66
Nala and Damayanti
As the twelfth year of the exile drew to a close, Yudhishtira met Rishi Vrihadashwa who taught him the secret of playing dice. While learning this art, Yudhishtira complained, ‘We have to spend all of next year hiding ourselves. Should we be discovered, we have to stay in the forest for another twelve years. Such a miserable fate, all because of a game of dice! Is there anyone who has suffered like me?’
To this Vrihadashwa replied, ‘Yes, there was once a king called Nala who suffered so. He had to serve as cook and charioteer to the king of Ayodhya. And like your wife, his wife, Damayanti, followed him to the forest and served as a maid to the queen of Chedi.’ He then told the Pandavas the romance of Nala and Damayanti.
The most beautiful of women, Damayanti, princess of Vidarbha, chose the most handsome of men, Nala, to be her husband, rejecting proposals of marriage that came from the gods themselves.
They lived a happy life for twelve years and had two children. Then Nala’s cousin, Pushkara, paid them a visit and invited Nala to a game of dice. During the game, just like Yudhishtira, Nala wagered all that he possessed and lost it all.
Nala was asked to leave his own palace with his family. They were not allowed to carry anything except a single garment to cover their body. Damayanti had her children sent to her father’s house. ‘You should go with them too,’ said Nala to his wife, ‘I cannot show my face to my subjects. I do not want to go where I will be recognized. I have brought shame upon myself. Go, leave me, wife. Leave me to my fate.’
But Damayanti refused to leave her husband in this hour of need. ‘I will follow you in misfortune as I did in fortune,’ she said, ‘Let us go into the forest together. No one will recognize us there.’
The forest was an unkind realm. Without weapons, Nala could not hunt an animal. And Damayanti, used to the comforts of the palace, did not know how to find fruit or water. Desperately hungry, Nala decided to use the single piece of cloth he was wearing to catch a few birds. ‘Maybe we can eat them. Maybe we can sell them to travellers in exchange for food.’ But the birds were strong. They rose up into the air and flew away carrying the cloth with them, leaving Nala naked. Nala fell to the ground and wailed, ‘I have lost everything.’
‘Not everything,’ said Damayanti, ‘You still have me. And I will never leave your side.’
Damayanti undid the cloth she had draped her body with, ripped it in two and gave one half to her husband and used the rest to cover herself. Together, they wandered through the forest silently, he burdened by guilt, she determined to stand by him no matter what.
Nala could not bear to see Damayanti suffer so because of his foolishness. So, at night, while she slept, he got up and ran away, hoping that finding him gone, good sense would prevail and she would go to her father’s house in Vidarbha.
When Damayanti woke up and discovered Nala was not by her side, her first thought was not to run to her father; it was to find her husband. She scoured the forest for Nala, shouting out his name, hoping he would hear her. As evening approached, she suddenly found a venomous serpent blocking her path, ready to
strike her. Luckily, a hunter shot an arrow and rescued her from its venomous bite. She thanked the hunter profusely but soon realized that the hunter was not interested in her gratitude; he wanted to have the pleasure of her body. Damayanti was a chaste woman and no sooner did the hunter touch her than he burst into flames.
After her miraculous escape from the serpent and the hunter, Damayanti came upon a caravan of traders who invited her to join them. That very night, a herd of elephants attacked the caravan and caused much damage. The traders felt Damayanti had brought them bad luck, so they drove her away.
Alone and abandoned, Damayanti finally managed to make her way to the city of Chedi. The children there started pelting her with stones for her torn clothes, dust-laden limbs and unkempt hair which gave her the appearance of a mad woman.
As Damayanti tried to escape the mob of children, she caught the eye of the queen of Chedi. Feeling sorry for this unkempt but regal-looking woman, the queen had her brought to the palace where Damayanti became her lady-in-waiting. Damayanti did not reveal her name or identity. She called herself Sairandhri and earned her keep as a hair dresser and perfume maker.
A few days later, a priest called Sudev passed through Chedi. He recognized Damayanti and revealed her true identity to the queen. After much persuasion, Damayanti agreed to go to her father’s house.
‘We must find my husband,’ she told her father. So her father appointed a priest called Parnada to go to each and every kingdom in Bharata-varsha looking for Nala.
‘How will I recognize him?’ wondered Parnada.
Damayanti said, ‘Keep singing these lines as you travel: “Oh you who lost crown and kingdom in gambling, who abandoned your wife after taking one half of her clothing, where are you? Your beloved still yearns for you.” Nala alone will respond to this song.’
Jaya: An Illustrated Retelling of the Mahabharata Page 18