Vishwamitra

by Vineet Aggarwal

  Vasishth nodded in understanding and gently stroked her head. Then she asked her husband, ‘Is it true that the man who brought about the demise of our sons has been conferred with the title of Maharishi by none other than the Srishti Karta himself?’

  ‘Yes, my dear,’ Vasishth said, ‘and it gives me pride to acknowledge the role I have been able to play in his development!’

  Vishwamitra could not believe his ears when he heard the reply but the Brahmarishi continued, ‘The day I met him, I knew this man was going to achieve what no one had managed to before him. He had the blessings of Ruchik, the guidance of Dattatreya and the intellect of Kadhi and whatever I have done since that moment was to nudge him in a way that would lead him towards his final destination.’

  Vishwamitra was stunned. This being, whom he had always thought of as his sworn mortal enemy, had actually been guiding his progress all along?

  He remembered what the Brahmarishi had said when he had first argued for possession of the divine cow—‘Nandini is not a property of this ashram and lives here of her own volition. We have no more the right to let her go than one could let go of a person of their own family.’

  He had then been teaching him about letting go of his desire to appropriate material wealth. The learned sage had told him in so many words that nothing in this world belonged to anyone except the Supreme God Himself. Each creature had His permission to live the life the way he wanted to. Subconsciously, Vishwamitra realized, this was the very thought that had pushed him into finding his own destiny!

  The Brahmarishi had not lifted a finger to hurt him even though he could easily have defeated his army single-handedly. He had taken it as a personal attack by Vasishth but it was Nandini’s reluctance and his own pride that had brought about the annihilation of his forces.

  Even when he had confronted him the second time, the Brahmarishi had only thwarted his missiles and not attacked him in retaliation. He recalled the verses recited to him when his Divya Astras had proven futile. ‘Digh-balam shastra-balam, Bramha-tejo sarvocch balam,’ reminding the king that the power of material arms, even of divine origin, was useless against the spiritual power obtained through penance.

  It was this crushing defeat that had led him on the journey of self-discovery. Had he not been pushed into a corner, he would never have attempted anything other than becoming a universal monarch and could not have achieved the remarkable feats he had managed to. The sudden realization that it was Vasishth’s refusal to help Satyavrat that led the king to Vishwamitra and seek his help hit him hard. Had the Brahmarishi fulfilled the king’s ambition, and he was more than capable of doing it, Vishwamitra would never have got the opportunity to settle his score with Indra and show his prowess to the world!

  In a sudden epiphany, he realized that Vasishth was the sole reason he had risen so far in his spiritual undertaking. He rushed inside to fall down at the feet of his absentee mentor, his heart full of repentance.

  Arundhati recoiled in horror, seeing the murderer of her children in front of her, but Vasishth bent down to raise him by his shoulders and embraced him like a son. ‘Today, my child,’ he said ‘you have surpassed all your previous achievements for the triumph over one’s own desires is the biggest victory in this world.’

  As Vishwamitra struggled to gain control over his emotions the Brahmarishi smiled at the remorseful man in front of him and said, ‘Your journey has been of great loss and even bigger gains, yet this is the biggest accomplishment of them all. With each step you have strived to break the boundaries set for you and achieved what no one before you could even dream of.

  ‘I am more proud of you than I have been of any of my sons and recognizing your spiritual advancement, I, Vasishth, the son of Srishti Karta Brahma Himself, hereby pronounce you a Brahmarishi!’

  Vishwamitra had no words left to respond. As anger and despair flowed out of his eyes, he felt as if he was suddenly free from all desires.

  He had vowed never to forget the humiliation Vasishth had put him through but now he knew it was the greatest benediction he could have received. His eyes still moist, he bowed to the Brahmarishi and his wife with folded hands, silently begging forgiveness for his role in the death of their sons and accepting the title that he had craved all his life from the man he had hated most of his life!

  He had managed to gain control over the primeval emotions of lust, anger, pride, attachment and greed but could not become a Brahmarishi till he mastered the last and the most important—jealousy, for he now understood that as long as that emotion remained inside a man’s heart, the other five could gain entry anytime.

  He had dared to challenge the gods and even defeated them in some sense but his greatest achievement was his victory over his own heart. His destiny had never been to become the emperor of the world or a jeet-indra but to turn into the master of the senses, a jeet-indriya.

  As the purpose of his life became clear, he felt a great burden lift off his shoulders. He finally understood that Man’s ultimate destiny was to become the master of his own destiny. And man’s destiny did not lay in just creating or obtaining material wonders but also in realizing his full spiritual potential.

  He would share his knowledge and endeavour to advance mankind to become heirs to the gods. Whatever the future held, he would not rest till he had achieved this goal and truly become Vishwa-mitra—the friend of the world.

  Footnote

  Adhyaye 5

  *{Rig Veda, Book 5, Verse 85}

  Author’s Note

  The Friend of the World

  For any writer, his first book holds special value since it is as much a labour of love and sweat as an exercise in discovering one’s own latent potential and this book is my labour of love and sweat in more ways than one.

  Vishwamitra isn’t a religious book, nor a book on spirituality. It’s neither completely fiction nor entirely based on reality. Yet, it holds an important message, for it is the life story of an ordinary human who rose above the confines of his physical and mental boundaries to fight fate and take charge of his own destiny.

  Unlike the Devas, Gandharvas, Vidyadhars, Siddhas, Arihants, Bodhisattvas and other assorted divine beings from our scriptures, we, the ordinary Manavs (the Sanskrit term for Man) are considered to have limited capabilities. Yet, we see people in a variety of disciplines seeking to breach that barrier every day. These are the people who challenge the norms set by the society and set new milestones for the rest of mankind. This story is an ode to one such man.

  Vishwamitra’s life is the perfect example of how far a man can go in order to obtain what he truly desires. Many may know of him as one of the greatest rishis of Vedic times and some may even remember the role he plays in the Ramayana. But even those who are familiar with his name may not know that Vishwamitra was born a prince and became a Brahmarishi purely by virtue of his own efforts. You may be further surprised to know that he is also the discoverer of the Gayatri Mantra, the most popular hymn chanted by millions of Hindus all over the globe every day.

  The characters of this book may remind you of people from our own lives since human emotions haven’t changed since the time the first of mankind walked out of Africa. Yet, the views expressed by the central character may seem untraditional and even heretical at times, for he does not see the world through the prism of established religious doctrines.

  Born into a Kshatriya family, divine providence blessed him with a potent spiritual streak that fuelled his quest to become the highest of the high priests of ancient India. History identifies him as the only Kshatriya king to have achieved the impossible task of becoming a Brahmarishi and recognizes him as the human architect of no less than a star system!

  His story isn’t confined to a study of human psychology or mythology but rather takes on the mantle of science fiction more than once, bringing to the fore universal traits that can be found in any intelligent species in the universe. You may believe everything, or take it with a pinch of salt, but either way, you
would find it hard not to be impressed with the man’s steadfast dedication to his goal and the absolute brilliance of his methodology.

  This book is a chronicle of the trials and tribulations faced by a man torn between duty and desire, and the vicissitudes and failings of human condition. Yet, at its heart, it is a story of hope—hope that makes a human being challenge his destiny with random acts of free will; hope that makes a king leave all his possessions and turn into a hermit; hope that fuels the desire for being remembered in spirit, even after the body has perished in dust.

  This, thus, is the narrative of a brave king of Aryavarta, who not only attained fame through his military conquests but, through his intense spiritual quest, also became one of the most well-known sages of all time.

  It is the story of a man who dared to challenge the gods.

  Epilogue

  He was back on the golden lotus, meditating upon the holy name of the Lord.

  For some reason, he was finding it difficult to concentrate and his mind kept wandering to the man who had created an entire star system to rival his own creations. He wasn’t insecure, for he knew no one could attain the position of Brahma that easily, yet he couldn’t help but feel a little envious of the ease with which Vishwamitra had performed the remarkable feat.

  His four foreheads creased in a frown and he finally opened two of his eyes in impatience, beholding the newly formed planets that were being ruled by Satyavrat. There was no doubt that they were a work of art but his astute mind realized that their creation had also served another important purpose. Indra’s inflated ego had been put in place and the Devas had been made to realize that even though they possessed god-like qualities, they were not God themselves.

  He shifted his vision to glance at the latest Brahmarishi and found him meditating in the Himalayas, creating new verses and biding his time for the perfect apprentice to whom he could impart all this knowledge. Brahma knew that time was not far, for the Asurs were growing in power under their ruler Ravan, another of his great-grandsons gone astray. With some exasperation he thought that only Narayan could know how the minds of this younger generation worked!

  He himself had spent fifty years trying to balance out the Good and Evil in this world by intermittently helping one or the other side, but the contest between them never seemed to come to a final conclusion.

  His gaze wandered to the other living beings on Earth and he saw tiny ant-like humans going about their usual chores, completely oblivious to the greatness one of their own had managed to achieve. Living in a world they had modified immensely for their comfort, they seldom realized what they were capable of achieving.

  Unfortunately, the Devas were no better. They lived in unimaginable bliss but, ironically, this very happiness was keeping them away from Nirvana for it blinded them to the limitations of this material creation. They lived as if they had all the time in the world when the truth was that even their incredibly long lives would come to an end sooner or later.

  Asurs possessed superhuman powers but were largely consumed by the insatiable desire for supremacy over the world. Most of their time was spent hoarding wealth, winning new territories and other hedonistic pursuits, putting the thought of liberation at the very end of their pleasure-seeking minds.

  Both, however possessed powers that could never be matched by an ordinary human. Yet, humans were the only species that was a perfect blend of Good and Evil. They represented the exact midpoint of the evolutionary ladder and were uniquely placed to take on the traits of either side of the spectrum. Yet, they wasted their lives consumed by their unrequited desires and regrets.

  He could count on one hand the number of humans who had dared to delve into the deeper recesses of their subconscious and was proud of the progress Vishwamitra had made even though he knew that, in times to come, mankind would wonder if such a man had really existed and if his stupendous achievements were actually based on fact.

  He sighed deeply, realizing how terribly tiring the web of Karma was. Perhaps he hadn’t been such a good Creator but then he had had no previous experiences to learn from. Who knew, maybe the next Brahma would do a better job than him.

  He had another fifty years of trial and error and he hoped the second half of his life would turn out to be more positive. The twenty-fourth Mahayug of the first day of his fifty-first year was dawning and he looked forward to what lay ahead.

  It was time to begin the beginning, all over again.

  Acknowledgements

  To every individual in this world, his own work seems quite compelling, yet the law of averages would beg to differ from our own self-assessment. You may have liked my work or hated it completely, but the story shared in this book reflects my own conviction, that mankind can do much better than the state it currently finds itself in.

  The journey to this book has taken a long, winding path, beginning years ago with me as a child lapping up fantastical stories told by my kindly grandmother before she lost her voice to a stroke. I was captivated by her beautiful name, Yashoda, and imagined myself as her own personal Krishna whom she loved to pamper.

  My grandfather retired as the headmaster of a high school and was already a well-known author by the time I was born, with books on history and geography to his credit. Yet, true to his name, Jugal, he never lost the sense of adventure that youth entails and encouraged all his grandchildren to define their own journeys.

  Their unique combination of tradition tempered with scientific fact fostered in me a fascination for the past and set me on the path whose culmination is the book that you, my reader, currently hold in your hands.

  My father was the second storyteller in our family, sharing with us bedtime tales of the sun and moon who would take the form of paternal and maternal uncles in our imagination. A renowned surgeon, devoted to his craft and his patients, he would still find time to weave a web of truth and fiction for us every night. He also made sure that we learnt about our culture and history through those fabulous comics of our childhood—the Amar Chitra Katha series that children today, unfortunately, seem completely unaware of. Every weekend my sister and I would be presented with one book each that we would greedily finish and exchange so that we could be rewarded with two more on the coming Saturday. Behind this effort was the honest desire to give the children he loved a good upbringing and in more ways than one my father has proved himself true to his name—Satish.

  It was, however, my mother Kiran who, like the proverbial ray of light, showed us by personal example what complete and total dedication to family meant. Her family had been uprooted from their centuries-old home at the time of Partition, but nevertheless, or perhaps because of that, they laid more stress on the goodness of human conduct than blind following of religious diktats and personal ambition. Like many women from the previous generation, she sacrificed her own career to take care of her ailing in-laws, a never-ending stream of visitors and two troublesome children without complaint. While my father focused on studies as per the curriculum, she encouraged our artistic inclinations, inculcating in us a healthy appreciation for what were termed ‘extra-curricular’ activities in the school lexicon.

  My school was perhaps where this journey reached its first milestone for it was within its red-brick walls that I learnt the value of creating a balance between personal and professional life. We were fortunate to learn from teachers who, instead of confining us to our textbooks, let our imaginations soar and helped us see the bigger picture. That was where I wrote my first prose.

  My sister Vandana is the first person I knew of personally who could paint a picture with minimum words. She spun them into strings of such splendour that I found myself envious of her at first, and then inspired to take the pen in my own hand and attempt to create my own works of art.

  Throughout college life I encountered many people who helped knowingly and otherwise by adding their own perspectives to the narrative. As I look back, I realize the influence each of the above have had on me as a storyteller and
thank them for moulding me into the person I am today.

  My love of science and affection for mythology ultimately found common ground in Decode Hindu Mythology, my blog. I am grateful to the electronic medium that provided me with an outlet where I could pour the swirling thoughts in my head into coherent articles that have delighted close to a million people till date. I thank everybody who has taken time out to visit and comment on my posts and encouraged my efforts.

  The blog put me in touch with many like-minded people including Vaishali and Shatarupa, my editors and guides in this journey. Vaishali has been instrumental in bringing this book to fruition and has at various times cajoled, bullied, entreated and argued with me in order to get the final version ready on time and I can’t thank her enough. Shatarupa has moulded my incoherent sentences into a smooth-flowing stream and her effort is visible in each page of the book.

  I also thank my publisher for giving me the opportunity to present my interpretation of the events of a bygone era, for what is the value of a story if it does not reach an audience.

  I am grateful to all my friends who have encouraged me throughout this endeavour—Umang, Saurin, Mihir, Jayati, Anuj, Shoaib, Harsh, Seema, Anand, Mausam, Shagun, Vipin, Sonu, Yousaf, Avimanyu, Rajat, Anurag and Suhail. I owe you all heartfelt gratitude for making me believe I could do it.

  Last but definitely the most important, I thank you, my reader, for fulfilling my journey and becoming its final destination. You can reach me through my blog—www. decodehindumythology.blogspot.com—and Facebook page—www.facebook.com/Dr.Vineet.Official—and I promise to respond to each and every thought that you may want to share.

  I conclude with an invocation from the Rig Veda that sums up the philosophy of my life: