by Visnu Sarma
And now, what about poor Lively, alone, ill, and abandoned? Well, he was destined, through his own good fortune, to live out the allotted span of his life. Gradually, he recovered, restored and invigorated by the refreshing spray of the cascades. He then slowly got up on his feet and hobbled along, step by step, and finally reached the river Yamunā’s green banks. Cropping the tender tips of the lush, emerald-green grass, in a few days, he grew sleek and plump like Lord Śiva’s bull, sporting a magnificent hump and bouncing with energy. Every day he frisked around in the verdant meadows like a playful elephant and amused himself by charging the huge anthills, butting their pointed tops, goring them with the sharp tips of his horns.
It chanced that one day the lion, Tawny,3 accompanied by a retinue of different kinds of animals, came down to the river to drink, when he heard the bull Lively’s tremendous bellowing that sounded like the thundering of rainclouds. Instantly, Tawny froze in his tracks, deeply troubled at heart. However, concealing the true state of his emotions, Tawny withdrew, retiring into the vast circle formed by the spreading banyan tree not far from where he had stopped. There, he drew up his retinue in the formation commonly known as the Four Circles.
Dear Reader, since you are far removed in time and space from this ancient story-book world, permit me to explain what the Four Circles are. We have the Circle of the Lion, the Circle of Attendants, the Circle of Courtiers—those hangers-on who caw and crow—and the Circle of the Menials—the fetchers and carriers. As it is said, in any city or capital, town, village, or hamlet, settlement, Brāhmana colony, border post, monastery or community of people, there can only be one occupant of the lion’s post. The Circle of Attendants comprises many; that of the hangers-on, naturally, consists of myriads. And as for the fourth circle, that of the ‘others’—well, they mill around at the edge of the forest—they are on the fringes, the periphery, so to speak. Such is the hierarchy, high, middle, low. That is how it is, has been, and will always be.
Tawny had his ministers, as well as others who were in his secret counsels; true enough. But he enjoyed a kingship that may be described as follows: he vaunted none of the external trappings of royalty; no pomp and circumstance surrounded him; no royal white umbrella or royal chariot; no ornate fans and flywhisks with jewelled handles; no entourage of bards and wanton women going before him, singing and dancing. He held his head high, erect, from sheer pride and innate majesty: from his feeling of indomitable daring; from his sense of uncompromising honour and a fiery spirit that welled up from within. He exercised a kingship that was free and sovereign; that brooked no rival and disdained to be subject to another’s will or authority. It was a sovereignty that proclaimed its presence by haughtiness firmly grounded in vehement passion; stemming from heroic fury. It was a stranger to the kind of cringing speech that some practised. It was not abject or timid; it never folded its hands in humble obeisance. Fearlessness was its goal and it acted fearlessly to reach its goal. It disdained flattery to gain its ends but always displayed a magnificence that rested solely on manly strength, resoluteness, self-esteem. Such was the kind of kingship that Tawny exercised, serving no one, encumbered by no one. Disinterested, it deemed the pleasure of benefiting others its own reward; it was devoid of small-mindedness, of meanness of spirit. It was a kingship by no means insignificant. Unconquered, it enjoyed dominion without taking thought of building defences and fortifications; or, of keeping accounts of revenue and expenditure. There was no need for it to indulge in intrigue and machinations. Tawny’s kingship was a stranger to deviousness. Easily roused to anger from possessing an overabundance of valour and endowed with an uncommon appetite for power, it would never scheme or work behind anyone’s back. It was above suspicion. Above reproach, it easily brushed aside the malicious babblings of officious wives, and spurned their tears and wails. Without formal training in the use of weapons it acted to kill but with no desire to. It provided itself with adequate food and shelter without the aid of attendants. Tawny, regal, roamed the forests, unhesitating, unalarmed.
(5) The King of Beasts, full of energy,
dwells in the woods, solitary
without emblems of royalty;
unlearned, untrained in polity,
his superior strength gives him sovereignty;
he rules, crowned simply by the words
O King! Hail! O King!
(6) No rite of consecration,
no sacred ablution
do beasts of the forest perform
to crown the lion as king.
Earned by valour alone
his deeds are quite well-known,
sovereignty over beasts is his.
(7) Meat of tuskers moving slow, majestic,
drops of rut trickling, he relishes most;
but if his favourite food comes not his way,
still you’ll never catch a lion eating hay.
There were two jackals in Tawny’s train, Wary and Wily, sons of ministers. They were out of a job and this is what started them consulting earnestly with each other. It was Wily who brought up the subject first, saying, ‘Wary, my good friend, did you just see our lord, Tawny, coming this way for a drink? Why then is he standing over there looking quite dejected?’
And Wary replied, ‘Yes, I did; but what of it? It’s none of our business, is it? Or have you not heard of the saying:
(8) He who pokes his nose where it does not belong,
surely meets his end;
for that’s what happened to the monkey who meddled
with the wedge, my friend.’
‘Ah!’ exclaimed Wily, ‘And how did that happen?’ Upon which Wary began the story of The Monkey and the Wedge.
In a certain city, a merchant was having a temple built within a grove on the outskirts. Everyday, the master-builder and other artisans left for the city at noon to have their midday meal. One day, a band of monkeys descended upon that half-built temple. An enormous log of rosewood split by one of the carpenters, lay on one side, with a wedge of acacia-wood inserted at the top into the cleft. The monkeys romped around playing on the treetops, on the lofty rooftops and towers, and in the woodpile. One of them, whose downfall was on the cards, scampered out of idle curiosity on to the log and sat there wondering, ‘Now, who on earth has gone and stuck a wedge in such an odd place?’ Getting hold of the wedge with both hands, he started pulling and straining, trying to work it loose. He succeeded; suddenly, the wedge flew out; the split halves snapped shut. Now, you should know without being told as to what happened to the monkey’s genitals dangling within the cleft below the spot where the wedge had been inserted.
‘Therefore, I say to you,’ remarked Wary, ‘anyone with his wits about him is careful to mind his own business.’
And he added, ‘We seem to do well enough on Lord Tawny’s leavings.’ To which Wily replied with some asperity, ‘So, that’s what it is, is it? To fill the belly is Your Honour’s sole concern, then? No wish to perform any service of distinction? It is aptly said, though, that the wise embark on a career of service with kings for two reasons: to help one’s friends and to harm one’s foes. Who in this world does not take care of his belly?
(9) To help one’s friends and hurt one’s foes
are proper ends of serving kings,
as the wise perceive. In this world,
who does not heed the belly’s call?
‘Moreover:
(10) One truly lives on whose life depends
the livelihood of the many.
Birds too fill their bellies full
with several beakfuls of food.
(11) If a man does not hold dear the well-being
of parents, kin, dependants, and himself,
what good is his living in the world of men?
A crow too lives long eating ritual offerings.
(12) Throw a dog a bone with barely meat on it—
a sorry bit of stinking gristle and fat,
it hardly stills his hunger pangs,
yet he is
content—
But the lion—he whips aside
the jackal that lands right in his lap—
to chase a bull-elephant.
The meanest in the world
hankers after the recompense
he regards as his birthright.
(13) Watch the dog—
he wags his tail,
grovels at your feet,
rols on the ground, baring his belly and his fangs.
The bull-elephant eyes his food,
toys with it,
and waits for a hundred cajoleries
He takes his time before he deigns to eat.
(14) Easily filled is a tiny stream,
easily filled the cupped paws of a mouse;
easily pleased is a scurvy fellow;
he gives thanks for crumbs.
(15) If between what is good and proper, and what is not,
a man cannot discern;
if from all commerce with Scripture’s holy precepts,
his mind is shut out;
if to fill the belly is his sole aim,
what difference then, between beast and man-beast?
‘And think too of this:
(16) The grass-eating ox pulls the heavy wagon;
he draws the plough over ground rough and smooth;
pure of birth, he labours for the good of the world;
Can you compare a man-beast with the ox?’
Wary pouted at this and remarked, ‘But, we have no place at the court; we are not among the king’s men. Why then should we involve ourselves in his business?’
Wily was quick to answer, ‘Ah, my good chap; sometime or other, someone who is not the king’s man, becomes one. For as we know:
(17) By serving well the king,
one who’s not the king’s man becomes one;
by failing to serve the king,
another who is, falls from his place.
(18) By no man’s smile is any man raised high;
by no man’s frown is any man cast down;
up or down, a man rises or falls in life,
by the true worth of his actions and conduct.
‘Further:
(19) With greatest effort are stones carried uphill;
and with the greatest ease do they tumble down;
so too with our own self, through Virtue and Vice.’
All that Wary could observe was, ‘Well, then, what does Your Honour make of it?’ Wily then explained, ‘I guess our lord is afraid; surrounded by his retinue which is also cowering in fear, he stands dumbfounded.’
‘And how would you know this, Wily?’ asked Wary.
‘What is there to know in this?’ came Wily’s pat reply.
(20) ‘Any creature understands what is plainly said,
an elephant, a horse, when driven, moves on;
what is left unsaid, the learned, wise, infer.
The intellect sees clearly revealed
another’s true intent and purpose,
gains knowledge from expression of face and eyes,
from tone of voice, from gait
from gesture and deportment.
‘Before long, I shall have our master in my power, using my abilities of comprehension.’
Wary still demurred, ‘But my dear chap, Wily, I’m sure you have not a clue to what it takes to serve a king. Now tell me something, how do you propose to gain power over our master, Lord Tawny?’
But Wily was not one to be put down; as always he was ready with an answer. ‘Well, my dear chap, how can you say that I am unacquainted with the ways of the court, and, with the knowledge of serving a king? Have I not read and made completely my own the knowledge contained in the chapters of the sage Vyāsa’s great epic, where the Paṇḍava brothers arrive at the kingdom of Virāṭa, and enter into the service of the king there? And it has been aptly said:
(21) What job is beyond the competent?
What place too far for the adventurous?
What land alien to the well-informed?
To smooth talkers, who remains a stranger for long?’
Wary objected, ‘Supposing Your Honour is rebuffed by the king for forcing yourself on him, when you are not welcome? What then?’ To which Wily replied, ‘There you do have a point, my friend. But I am a person well aware of time and place; I can judge when the occasion is right. As we know:
(22) Even the Lord of Learning4 can make a slip;
uttered on an inauspicious occasion
his words, no doubt, will lack of persuasion,
and more, act as extreme provocation.
‘Then again:
(23) The wise and well-bred, though riding high in royal favour,
will desist from sudden intrusion into the royal presence;
as when the king is closeted in secret counsels,
or occupied in intimate activities,
or, when he’s bewildered, dithering, at a loss how to act.
‘Or to put it another way:
(24) No well-bred courtier, even one granted free access
will ever dream of intruding at certain times:
when the king is in conference,
when his physician, or his barber,
is in attendance on him,
when he is at table, or in bed with a woman.
(25) A courtier in the palace should act with extreme caution;
a pupil in his teacher’s house, with respect and discretion;
Those unmannerly who do not know their place,
will soon meet with extinction like oil lamps
lighted at dusk in dwellings of the poor.
‘What’s also important:
(26) Ascertain well beforehand, the royal mood,
merry or sad, angry or otherwise;
only then enter the palace, in modest attire,
bowing low, walking with slow, hesitant steps.
‘And remember:
(27) A man might be lacking in learning and wisdom,
or be of humble birth, or not well-commended;
if he sticks close to the king, in constant service,
never doubt that royal favour is his.
Kings and women and slender climbing vines,
cling to whatever they find close to them—
Such is the way of the world.
‘Also:
(28) By careful scrutiny of his master’s face
for signs of anger or of grace;
a servant slowly climbs on to his back,
even if the monarch bucks and bolts.
‘And further:
(29) The learned, the brave, and he who well knows how to serve,
these are the three who pluck the Flower of Gold in this world.
‘How does a man serve a king? Listen, then:
(30) The king’s favourites and his well-wishers,
especially those whose words carry weight—
The wise man makes them his gateway
to royal favour. There is no other way.
(31) The wise do not care to serve the king
who cannot recognize each one’s individual merit;
such service is wholly barren of all fruit,
like the tillage of a salt meadow.
(32) Serve well a monarch worthy of service
even if he lacks wealth and powers of state.
Your livelihood is thereby assured,
and in time you will enjoy the fruits.
(33) The servant despises his lord, thinking—
‘this man, he does not deserve to be served.’
Why does he not despise himself for knowing
who deserves service and who does not.
(34) The Queen Mother and the Royal Consort,
the Crown Prince and the Chief Minister too.
The High Priest and the Royal Guard:
these deserve a royal treatment.
(35) He who stands in the forefront in battle,
but walks behind the king in the city,
waits in the pala
ce at the royal chamber-door:
he is beloved of princes.
(36) He who always greets the prince, when addressed,
with the auspicious words, ‘May you live long,’
who knows what should be done, what should not
and acts resolutely: he is beloved of princes.
(37) He who directs wisely, royal gifts of wealth
toward the deserving; who confidently wears
garments and other gifts from the prince to him:
he is beloved of princes.
(38) He who never returns insolent words
even when taken to task by the prince;
checks his laughter in the royal presence;
he is beloved of princes.
(39) He who will not carry on intrigues
with attendants of the royal harem,
or whisper with the monarch’s consorts:
he is beloved of princes.
(40) He who will never step over the line,
even in distressing situations,
thinking, ‘I am secure in the king’s favour,’
he is beloved of princes.
(41) He who endears himself to those dear to the lord of men
and swears eternal enmity to his foes:
he is beloved of princes.
(42) He who does not consort with his royal master’s foes,
is not contentious, or spreads slander around:
he is beloved of princes.
(43) He who is fearless, regards the battlefield
and holy sanctuary with the same eye;
to whom living in his native city
and sojourn abroad are the same:
he is beloved of princes.
(44) He who looks upon dice as Death’s messenger,
and drink as the Deadly Poison5
who sees other men’s wives simply as forms;
he is beloved of princes.’
Wary, having listened to all of this, now asked, ‘Sir, what will you say first when you are in our lord’s presence? You’d better tell me that.’
And Wily answered,
(45) ‘Words follow words; words spring from words
even as seed begets more seed
with timely rains.
‘What’s more:
(46) Men of learning and intellect, with skill using
the various expedients of policy,
lay out clearly for their master’s viewing
danger that looms in unwise policy,