by Visnu Sarma
(300) As the breath of life struggles in the throat
even then the wise refrain from forbidden food
—and what a trifling mouthful too at that—
for fear of losing both the worlds.
‘You have given ample proof, sir, of your devotion as a servant; there is excellent wisdom in the saying:
(301) Men of noble families remain the same,
first and last and at all times in-between;
for this very reason, monarchs
gather round themselves such a band of men.
‘So, make way, sir, move on so that I may also win the favour of our lord.’
As the jackal moved out of the way, the leopard bowed low in reverence and spoke, ‘Lord, this day, let your life’s journey be renewed by my life. Make my fame spread far and wide on this earth. Have no hesitation, my lord for it is truly observed:
(302) Servants who remain in all matters
ever-faithful to their masters,
will attain everlasting life in the World of Light
and imperishable glory on earth.’
The camel, Disdain, having heard all this thought to himself: ‘Why, these fellows have expressed their devotion in such fine phrases; and yet, our lord has not struck down a single one of them. Therefore, I too shall declare mine as befits the occasion. These fellows, all three of them, are sure to dismiss my offer.’ Having concluded that this is what would happen, he spoke strongly, ‘Aha! Admirably spoken, sir. But, you, sir, are also armed with claws. Then, how can our master eat you, sir? For it is rightly said:
(303) He who even imagines wrongs
that could be done to one’s own kind,
possesses neither world; and further,
he is degraded into a foul worm.
‘So, make way while I ask for our lord’s favour.’ As the leopard moved away, poor Disdain stood before Lusty and bowing with respect, spoke, ‘Lord, these creatures are not fit food for Your Lordship. Let Your Lordship be sustained by my body, so that I may possess both worlds: for it is wisely observed:
(304) No ascetic, no doer of sacrifice,
can ever reach that high station
that servitors who give up their life
to save their master’s, attain.’
At a sign from the lion who had been addressed in this manner by Disdain, the leopard and the jackal fell upon the poor camel and tore his entrails out, while the crow pecked out his eyes. The unfortunate camel, Disdain, breathed his last, and was devoured greedily by all four creatures who were ravenously hungry.
‘Which is why I say to you, “Many are the sharp-witted who are mean-spirited…” and so on,’ said Lively.
After he had retailed this short tale, Lively addressed the jackal, Wily, once again: ‘Ah! My friend, this King Tawny with his shabby retinue… he is not good to those who take refuge with him. Better a vulture for a king who has wild geese for his retinue, than a wild goose for king who has vultures for his retinue. For it is out of the counsel of a retinue of vultures that many evils spring up for their master; evils sufficient to bring about his downfall. Far better to choose the former of the two kings. For a king who is duped by evil counsel becomes incapable of wise deliberation. And, don’t we also hear the following:
(305) That jackal by your side, and that crow over there,
sharp-beaked — your retinue— I see
are not exactly reassuring:
therefore, I have climbed up this tree.’
Wily pricked up his ears: ‘O really! And how was that?’ he asked. And Lively began the tale of The Lion and the Chariot-maker.
In a certain city there lived a chariot-maker named Devagupta.42 It was his daily routine to carry a packed lunch and, accompanied by his wife, to go to the forest to fell huge logs of rosewood. Now in that forest dwelt a lion, named Spotless,43 who had for his attendants a jackal and a crow, both rabid flesh-eaters.
One day the lion while roaming alone in the forest encountered the chariot-maker. Seeing that lion of terrifying aspect, the chariot-maker considered himself as good as dead; or, perhaps he possessed great presence of mind which prompted him to think it best to face a powerful foe with firmness. Whatever the reason, he advanced boldly towards the lion and facing him, bowed low and said, ‘Come, come, my friend; today, I am afraid you have to eat my lunch which your brother’s44 wife has prepared with care and brought; so here….’ And he proffered his own lunch to the lion.
The lion made a courteous reply. ‘My friend, my life cannot be sustained by boiled rice and vegetables, for I am an eater of flesh. But, I shall certainly have a taste of your food, because I have taken a liking to you. What kind of special dishes have you there?’
Hearing the lion speak to him thus mildly, the chariot-maker began to gratify the taste buds of the lion with all sorts of special eatables: melting-in-the-mouth sweetmeats, and candies and cookies all made of sugar and spice, butter and nuts and raisins. The lion was highly gratified; out of gratitude he offered his host protection, and granted him safe, unhindered right of movement in the forest.
The chariot-maker then spoke courteously to the lion, ‘Dear friend, now you must come and meet me everyday; but, mind you, always come alone. Don’t ever bring anyone with you to meet me.’
Days passed in this manner as the two friends spent time together in affection. The lion, who received such hospitality and was provided everyday with different kinds of delicious food, soon gave up hunting. Now the two hangers-on, the crow and the jackal, who lived off the good fortune of others, being tormented by fierce pangs of hunger, respectfully asked the lion one day: ‘Lord, tell us where you go everyday, and why you return from wherever you go in a very happy mood.’
To this the lion replied, ‘O, nowhere in particular.’ But the two parasites would not give up. They asked him the same question repeatedly, and with the greatest deference.
Finally the lion answered, ‘I have a friend here in this forest, a chariot-maker who meets me everyday. His wife makes the most delicious dishes, which I eat with the greatest enjoyment.’ The two parasites at once remarked, ‘Well then, let us go there and kill this chariot-maker; his flesh dripping red blood will last us for a long time and we shall wax plump on it.’ But when the lion heard these terrible words, he reprimanded them, ‘Look here, fellows,’ he said sharply, ‘I have assured the man of protection and guaranteed the safety of his life. How can you even consider the possibility of perpetrating such a wrongful deed on his person! But I tell you what. I shall get some delicious tidbits for you both from him; what do you say?’ They agreed to this, and all three set out to meet the chariot-maker.
When Devagupta saw the lion at a distance coming towards him, followed by his evil-minded attendants, he reflected, ‘Oho! This does not look good; for me it is a most unpropitious turn of–events.’ And holding his wife close, he quickly climbed a great, big tree.
The lion came close and enquired of the chariot-maker, ‘My friend, why did you climb into this tree as soon as you saw me coming? Don’t you know me, Spotless, the lion and your dear friend, the very same? Do not be afraid.’
But the chariot-maker remained in the tree and replied, ‘“That jackal by your side…” and so on, as I have already quoted to you: which is why I repeat to you, Sir Wily, “A king who keeps scurvy retainers by his side is no good to those who take refuge with him,’” concluded Lively.
Having recounted this little tale, Lively once again remarked to Wily, ‘This king, Tawny, has been set up against me by somebody. Besides:
(306) Even firm mountainsides are diminished
as waters softly flowing wear them down.
How easy then for those expert in intrigues,
softly whispering slander, to wear down pliant minds.
‘In these circumstances what course is opportune now? What course, indeed, but to fight. For it is well stated:
(307) The Eternal Worlds of Light that mortals
desirous of everlasting
bliss seek and gain
through penance, munificent charities,
and a host of ritual sacrifices,
are those worlds heroes enter the moment
they abandon their lives on the battlefield.
‘And again:
(308) Dead, they gain the Worlds of Light,
victorious, happiness in life;
both these courses worthy of heroes,
are bringers of great good fortune.
‘And once more:
(309) Maidens decked in precious gems and gold,
elephant, horses and royal wealth,
the throne complete with jewelled fans
and umbrella brilliant as the full moon:
these are not for men who flee the battle
and run to hide behind their mothers’ skirts.’
Hearing such a brave speech from Lively, the jackal Wily began to worry, thinking, ‘This fellow has sharp horns and a strong, well-nourished frame. It might turn out that through fate’s decree, Lively might strike down our lord. That would not do at all. It is rightly said that:
(310) In battle, victory is uncertain
even for mighty warriors.
Better try the three expedients45 first:
to fight is the shrewd man’s last resort.
‘My best bet, therefore, is to turn Lively’s mind away from thoughts of war.’ So, Wily accosted his friend, ‘My dear friend, this is not a good idea, because:
(311) Whoever adopts an adversarial stance
before ascertaining the enemy’s strength
runs the risk of defeat, like the Ocean
Who pitted himself against the lapwing.’
‘What? enquired Lively sceptically, ‘and how did that happen?’ And Wily then began the tale of The Lapwing who defied the Ocean.
By the shores of the great ocean that teemed with an abundance of marine creatures: whales, dolphins and porpoises, sharks and great turtles, pearl oysters, shellfish and many other creatures, there lived a lapwing with his wife. He was named Long Legs46 and she, Chaste.47
During the mating season, Chaste, who was heavy with eggs requested her husband, ‘My lord, find a suitable spot where I can lay my eggs.’ And Long Legs remarked, ‘Why, here is a favourable spot that we have inherited from our forefathers, and it promises increase. Lay your eggs right here,’ to which she replied, ‘Oh, no, no, don’t even talk of this spot, for it is too close to the ocean. Sometimes at high tide, the crested, frothing waves advance far inland, and my children might be washed away.’
‘Gracious lady,’ replied the lapwing, ‘the Ocean knows me well; he knows Long Legs. And never will the great Ocean dare entertain hostile intentions towards me. Why, have you not heard the saying:
(312) Who dares to snatch from the cobra’s hood
the gem that burns brilliantly intense?
Who dares to kindle the wrath of one unapproachable,
who, by a mere look can strike a man down?
(313) However tormented by summer’s heat
in a desolate, treeless wilderness,
who will ever seek the shade cast by the frame
of a tusker inflamed with excitement?48
(314) When dawn’s frosty breezes blow
mixed with tiny flakes of snow,
what man with a sense of good and ill
with water would stave off the chill?
(315) What man eager to visit Death’s abode
would ever think of awakening a lion
who, Death’s very image, lies sleeping sound,
weary from exertion splitting open
the globed front of spring-fevered elephants?
(316) Who will walk, fearless, into Yama’s49 palace
and, in his own words, command the Destroyer;50
‘Here I am, take my life,
If in you such power rests.’
(317) What son of man, dull-witted, will enter
of his own free will, that Fire,51 blazing smokeless
continually, terrible to behold,
and besieging the skies with hundreds of flames.’
But even as he spoke, Chaste, who knew full well the truth about her husband’s prowess, laughed loudly and said, ‘Ha-ha! Fine words, indeed; and there’s more where they come from:
(318) What use are all these high-flying vaunts of yours?
O King of Birds! You will be the world’s laughing stock.
What a marvel would it be if the hare
were to void turd the size of elephant dung!
‘How can you not fail to see your own strength and weakness; for it is well said:
(319) Self-examination comes hard;
from not knowing how to, or lack
of discernment in carrying it out.
But whoever has this knowledge,
never sinks under Misery’s blows.
(320) The purpose will be served by this plan—
the power to make it so, is mine—
knowing this, whoever sets out and acts
is sure to find his plans bear fruit.
(321) One who heeds not words of advice
from friends who care about his welfare,
will be destroyed like the turtle
who foolishly let go of the stick.’
The lapwing looked at his wife quizzically and asked, ‘How ever did that happen?’ And Chaste began the tale of The Turtle and the Geese.
In a certain lake there lived a turtle named Shell Neck who had as his friends, two geese, named Slender and Stocky. In the course of time, there befell a twelve-year drought, which started the two geese reflecting seriously on the situation.
‘This lake has little water now; we should leave and seek another expanse of water. However, we should first make our farewells to our dear and long-time friend. Shell Neck.’
So when they went up to him to say farewell, Shell Neck enquired earnestly, ‘Why are you bidding me farewell, friends? I am also a water-dweller. From the paucity of water and from the grief of separation from you, it will not be too long before I myself will perish. Therefore, if you have any affection at all for me, you ought to endeavour to save me from the jaws of death. Further, as the water in the lake shrinks to the bottom, all that you suffer is a scarcity of food; whereas, to me it is immediate death. You ought to reflect and consider whether the loss of food or the loss of life is the more grievous loss.’
The two geese pleaded in reply: ‘Look, we are unable to take you along with us because you are a wingless aquatic creature.’
The turtle made prompt answer: ‘I think there is a way to manage it. Bring a piece of wood that will serve as a good stick.’
When the geese had brought a piece of wood shaped like a stick, the turtle gripped it firmly in the middle with his teeth and told the geese, ‘Now, take hold of this stick firmly in your bills, one at each end… yes, like that… and fly up into the sky; cruise along the aerial pathway, nice and easy, on an even flight, until you reach another suitable expanse of water.’
As the geese followed his instructions, they took care to warn him, ‘Listen, this may look like a fine plan but it bears the distinct marks of danger; for if you indulge in the slightest attempts at conversation, you will let go of your grip on this stick, and falling from a great height, you will be shattered.’
‘Yes, of course,’ the turtle rejoined. ‘From this moment I have taken a vow of silence which will last right through our aerial journey.’
So, the plan was carried out. But as the two geese were transporting the turtle with great difficulty, on their way from the lake they passed over the nearby city. People began to look up at this strange sight and talk among themselves: ‘What on earth is this cart-like object that those birds are carrying, flying through the air?’ A confused hubbub, a hum of voices of the crowd gathered below rose up to the skies.
Hearing this, the turtle, whose hour of death was drawing near, rashly opened his mouth to ask, ‘What are these people babbling?’
&
nbsp; No sooner were those words out than the stupid turtle slipped off the support on which he depended and fell crashing to the ground. Immediately, those among the crowd who craved meat, cut him up into pieces with sharp knives.
‘Which is why I told you before, “of friends who are well-wishers…” and so on,’ commented Chaste; and then she continued:
(322) ‘Forethought and Readywit prospered
while, What-will-be-will-be, perished.’
Her husband, the lapwing, at once queried, ‘And how did this happen?’ And Chaste began the tale of The Three Fishes.
In a certain vast lake there lived three very large fishes, whose names were Forethought, Readywit and What-will-be-will-be.
One morning, Forethought heard some folks and some fishermen who were walking along the edge of the lake and talking among themselves frequently, ‘See, this lake is abundantly stocked with fish; let us go fishing tomorrow.’
Hearing that. Forethought began to reflect. ‘Hey! This is not a good prospect to contemplate, I’m afraid. Tomorrow or the day after, these people are sure to come here. I had better take Readywit and What-will-be-will-be and resort to some other large lake where the waters are trouble-free.’ So, Forethought called out to the other two fishes and put the question to them.
Whereupon, Readywit replied, ‘Having lived for such a long time in this lake, I am loath to abandon it all of a sudden. If the fishermen all assemble here, then, I shall somehow or other look after myself by means of a suitable plan which I am sure I can think up on the spur of the moment.’
What-will-be-will-be, whose death was definitely on the cards, now spoke, There are so many other broad lakes elsewhere too; who knows if these fishermen will come to fish here or not. It is not fitting that a person should abandon his native lake on mere hearsay. For as the proverb says:
(323) Aims undertaken by serpents and knaves
and those who live by exploiting chinks
in others’ armour never succeed:
And so the world turns.
‘Therefore, my decision is not to go.’
So, recognizing that his two friends had their minds firmly made up to stay in that lake, Forethought went off to another large pool.