by Visnu Sarma
One of these arboreal creatures in particular, being far too distressed by the cold, repeatedly blew hard on the firefly. Now a tailor-bird, who had been watching, flew down from her tree and admonished the ape, ‘Friend, why do you go to all this trouble? This is not fire; it is a firefly.’ Nor would he stop even after she had counselled him many a time not to do so. To cut the story short: when the bird came close to the ape and annoyed him intensely by screaming her advice right into his ear, he seized and dashed the poor bird against a rock. With her face and eyes, neck and head crushed to bits, the bird died.
‘Which is why I said, “No sword can bend an unbending tree…” and the rest of it. Rather:
(380) What avails instruction to those unfit?
It is like a lamp in a house that’s lit
within a jar with a lid on it.
‘You, my friend, are definitely the black sheep of the family. As the proverb points out:
(381) The wise count four kinds of sons in this world;
‘born’ and ‘equal-born’, ‘best-born’ and ‘worst-born’.
(382) The first has the qualities of the mother,
the second is the equal of his father,
‘best-born’ surpasses all,
‘worst-born’ is lowest of the low.
‘Another wise saying goes as follows:
(383) By far-reaching wisdom, by wealth or power,
the son who carries the family fame
gains for his mother a mother’s true name.
‘And further:
(384) Beauty that’s the adornment of the moment—
indeed, where can you not find such beauty!
But the beauty of great intellect—
hard to find indeed are those whom it adorns.
‘Or again, see how excellent is the moral pointed out in:
(385)
The celebrated tale of Fair Mind, FoulMind,88
wherein the son crafty, too clever by half,
and father cleverly smoked out, both came unstuck.’
In a certain city, there lived two friends named Fair Mind, and Foul Mind, both sons of merchants, who travelled to far-off lands in search of wealth. Now, by a stroke of his own good fortune, the one named Fair Mind, found a jar filled with a thousand dinars89 which had been buried in the ground a long time ago by some holy man. Fair Mind thought, ‘Now that we have been successful in our quest, why not return home.’ He put the proposition to his friend Foul Mind, who concurred with it and they both started back home.
As they neared their native city, Fair Mind addressed his friend, ‘Dear friend,’ he said, ‘half of this treasure is yours: so, here, take it, so that when we reach home we may cut a fine figure before friend and foe alike.’
Foul Mind however had other ideas in mind. Motivated by crooked intention and wishing to further his gains, he answered, ‘Dear friend, so long as we hold this wealth in common the warm friendship we enjoy will remain intact. So let us each take out a hundred dinars and bury the rest in some safe spot before we go home. And the decrease or increase of our common wealth will then be the test of our virtue.’
Now Fair Mind, in the nobility of his nature, unaware of the hidden duplicity of his friend’s intentions, readily agreed. Each then took out a portion of the treasure and after burying the rest in a secure spot under the ground, they entered the city.
Now Foul Mind, addicted as he was to the vice of squandering money and having his life overshadowed by an unlucky fate that made him vulnerable to temptation, quickly ran through the sum of money that he took as his initial portion. So, once again he approached his friend to dip into the buried wealth and he and Fair Mind each took another hundred dinars from it. But this too got spent within the year. As a result, Foul Mind was plunged into thought. ‘Supposing I divide the treasure once more with Fair Mind and take out a hundred dinars what will then be left of the common hoard? A mere four hundred coins; and that would be a paltry sum, even if I decide to steal it all at one go. Therefore, it is better, I think, to steal the whole lot—all the six hundred coins that remain buried.’
Having decided that this was his best plan, Foul Mind went one day, alone, to the spot where the treasure was buried, dug it up, took it all out, covered up the hole and smoothed the spot over.
A month had barely passed when Foul Mind decided to approach his friend and broach the subject of the remainder of the buried treasure. ‘Ah! My friend,’ he began, ‘let us now divide the remaining dinars equally between us.’
Foul Mind went along with his friend to the spot where they had buried the treasure and began to dig. As he continued digging and failed to find the treasure, the impudent fellow first beat his head with the now empty jar and then said, ‘Where, O, where is this Prime Mover of the Universe.90 Surely Fair Mind, it is you who have taken it. Now, hand over half of it to me, or I shall take you to the palace for justice.’
Then Fair Mind retorted, ‘You double-dyed villain! How dare you speak like this. I am aptly named Fair Mind; and I would not dream of committing an act of theft. How well it is said:
(386) The fair-minded man looks on other men’s wives
as mothers; others’ wealth as so much trash;
and all that lives as his very own life.’
In hot dispute they went straight to the king’s court and related the whole story of the theft to the judges who, after listening to the facts of the case pronounced that each one undertake a trial by ordeal; at which Foul Mind exclaimed, ‘O, no, this is not a fair judgement; for it is said:
(387) Documents are prime evidence in disputes,
lacking which eyewitnesses are produced;
where eyewitnesses cannot be found, there,
ordeals are in order, jurists declare.
‘And in this matter, Your Honours, I have a divinity of the woodland to bear witness to the truth of my statement. She will declare to Your Honours which one of us is honest and which is not.’
To this the judges assented, saying, ‘You have spoken rightly, sir; for it is stated:
(388) When even a man base-born may be produced
as proper witness in any dispute
there an ordeal is deemed inappropriate:
what to say of a woodland-goddess for witness!
‘We too on our part are consumed by curiosity in this matter. So, early in the morning, we require both of you to go with us to that particular spot in the woods to hear the divinity testify.’ Having obtained a security from each of the two parties to the dispute, the judges dismissed them.
When Foul Mind reached home he pleaded with his father, saying, ‘Dear father, the gold coins are in my possession; but retaining possession of them depends entirely on your testimony. I shall take you tonight to the place in the woods where I dug up these coins, and hide you out of sight in a hollow of the mimosa tree growing close by. When the judges arrive at that place in the morning, pray bear witness to the truth of the statement I made to them.’
And the father remonstrated with Foul Mind, saying, ‘O, my son, we shall both be lost, for this is not a good scheme. As the proverb states wisely:
(398) A shrewd, sagacious man should think with care
of expedients and the evils thereof.
Even as the foolish heron was looking on,
the mongoose dined off the flock of herons.’
‘O, really!’ exclaimed Foul Mind, ‘How did that happen?’ And the father then began the tale of The Foolish Heron.
In a certain woodland region there grew a banyan tree that was home to a flock of herons. In a hollow of its trunk lived a black serpent who made a regular practice of eating up the heron chicks before they sprouted wings. After a while, one of the herons, desolate at seeing his offspring destroyed by the serpent, repaired to the lakeshore and stood there downcast, weeping a flood of tears. Seeing him in such a state, a crab came up and asked the heron, ‘Uncle, what makes you weep so bitterly today?’ And the heron answered, ‘O, my friend, what am I to d
o? I am such an ill-fated person; for my children and the children of my kinsfolk are being regularly eaten up by a serpent that lives in the hollow of yonder banyan tree. Therefore, with sorrow piled on sorrow, what can I do but weep. Now tell me, is there some way of destroying this serpent?’
Listening to the heron’s words, the crab reflected, ‘Ah! This fellow is the natural enemy of my race. Therefore let me give him a piece of advice that sounds good but is in fact harmful, so that the rest of the herons will also perish. For it is rightly observed:
(390) Make your speech butter-smooth;
make your heart pitiless;
and so convince your foe
that with all his kin he perishes.’
The crab now addressed the heron, ‘Listen, Uncle, if this is the problem, then what you should do is to strew bits of fish all the way from the mongoose burrow out there right up to the hollow where the serpent lives, so that the mongoose following the trail will find the vicious serpent, and kill him.’
The heron did as instructed and the mongoose following the trail of fish-pieces killed the serpent; and he also ate one by one, at his leisure, all the herons that had made the banyan tree their home.
‘Which is why I say to you, “A proper expedient should be devised…” and so on and so forth,’ concluded the father.
However, not paying the slightest heed to the paternal warning, Foul Mind hid his father out of sight in the hollow of the mimosa tree at night.
Next day, at the crack of dawn, Foul Mind had his bath, put on fresh clothes and with Fair Mind leading the way, accompanied the judges to the mimosa tree. Standing under it he called out in a loud and clear voice:
(391) ‘Sun and Moon, Fire and Wind, Heaven and Earth!
The Waters, Death and the Self! Day and Night,
and both the Twilights! You all watch the round
of Man’s Existence and see if it is right.
‘O, holy divinity of the woods! Which of us two is the thief; declare it.’
Then, Foul Mind’s father, hidden in the mimosa tree-hollow spoke out loud, ‘All of you out there! Listen; it was Fair Mind who stole the gold.’
Now, while the king’s officers of justice all stared with eyes widening in astonishment and searched their minds for the appropriate punishment laid down in the law which could be inflicted on poor Fair Mind for stealing the treasure, he slipped out to gather materials that would catch fire quickly. Covering the hollow with these, Fair Mind set the heap alight.
As the fire burned strong, Foul Mind’s father came rushing out of the mimosa tree-hollow uttering piteous wails, his body half-burnt, his vision smoke-blurred. And everyone gathered there turned to Fair Mind and burst out with, ‘Oh! Great Gods! What is the meaning of this, sir?’ To which Fair Mind coolly replied, ‘It is all Foul Mind’s doing, sirs.’
Immediately, the officers of justice seized Foul Mind and hanged him straight away on a branch of the mimosa tree; and highly commending Fair Mind, they bestowed on him many royal favours and gifts, to his heart’s content.
‘Which is why I said to you, friend Wily: “Fair Mind, Foul Mind…” and the rest of it,’ concluded Wary.
Having told his tale, the jackal, Wary, continued, ‘Alas! Alas! You miserable fool! By being too smart in the policy you followed, you have burned your own family. As it is wisely stated in the proverb:
(392) In salty oceans rivers have their end;
in women’s feuds kinship bonds break and end;
in gossip of backbiters secrets do end;
in wicked-minded sons do families end.
‘Moreover, who can trust a person who speaks on both sides of his mouth;91 and this saying too is full of wisdom:
(393) Double-tongue mental anguish arouses;
villain’s mouth or serpent’s implacable,
cruel beyond all endurance it only
serves to heap injuries upon injury.
‘What’s more, seeing your conduct I am beginning to fear for my own person; for which reason, I say:
(394) Never should you put your trust in villains;
Oh! How well have I understood their ways:
wait upon a snake for ever so long,
he will always bite the hand that feeds him.
‘And further:
(395) Fire that’s kindled even in sandalwood
will still spring up to burn;
a villain always remains a villain,
though to noblest family he belongs.
‘After all, consider, such is the very nature of villainy; as the proverb points out:
(396) Expert in recounting the vices of others,
devoted to praise of his own virtues,
skilled in engineering everyone’s ruin,
the villain—wills his own retribution.
(397) And the tongue that wags within the hollow
of the human face retailing others’ vices
and does not at once split a hundred times over,
must in truth be fashioned of adamant.
(398) May no harm befall those lions among men92
ever-devoted to the good of others,
whose own tongues observe the vow of silence
when other tongues prate about others’ vices.
‘Therefore it is wise to form friendships after careful scrutiny. As the saying goes:
(399) Seek out one resourceful and also straight;
scrutinize one resourceful but a rogue;
pity him who is straight but a big fool,
and shun him who is both rogue and fool.
‘The point however is: you have striven hard to bring about the destruction of not only your own family but also the destruction of our lord and master. Since you have chosen to reduce our lord even to this pitiable condition, what it means is that you don’t care a straw for anyone but yourself. And, the tale makes this point well:
(400) Where mice may eat up an iron balance
solid, of a thousand weights,
there, a hawk too may carry off an elephant;
small wonder then if it carries off a boy!’
‘Oh?’ asked Wily, the jackal, ‘What was that all about?’ And Wary began the tale of The Preposterous Lie.
In a certain settlement there lived the son of a merchant, named Nāduka, who having lost all his wealth determined to go to another land. For:
(401) A man who has lost all his fortune but dwells
still in the land or place where once he enjoyed
all pleasures by virtue of his own power,
is indeed the most despicable of men.
And further:
(402) Where a man once strutted proud and for long
in flashy play, and now in that same place
creeps miserable, poor, he is reviled
shamelessly by gossipping neighbours.
In his house lay a balance made of a thousand kilos of iron which he had inherited from his ancestors. This Nāduka left as a pledge93 with Lakṣmaṇa, President of the Guild, and then went off on his travels to distant lands. Having travelled for a long time in many lands, wherever his business took him, Nāduka finally returned to his native place and proceeded to the house of the guild-president, Lakṣmaṇa. ‘Friend, Lakṣmaṇa,’ he said, ‘please return the balance that I pledged with you.’ To this the merchant Lakṣmaṇa replied, ‘Ah! Friend Nāduka, your balance has been eaten up by mice.’
Hearing these words, Nāduka replied, ‘Oh! Well, friend Lakṣmaṇa, if the balance has been eaten by mice, that is surely no fault of yours; such is life; nothing in this world is permanent. However, I am planning to go down to the river for my bath. Kindly send your son whom you have named Golden god with me to carry the necessary articles for my bath.’
The merchant Lakṣmaṇa, who was somewhat conscience-stricken over the theft he had committed, summoned Golden god and said to him; ‘My dear boy, this is Nāduka, like an elder brother to you and he is going to the river for a bath. So, do go with him and carry what
ever articles are needed for his bath.’
Alas! Alas! how much wisdom is found in the saying:
(403) None does another person a good deed
out of pure loving-kindness;
only out of fear or greed,
or motivated by some personal need.
And again it is said:
(404) Where excess of solicitude is shown
for no special rhyme or reason known,
there, some suspicion should be entertained:
your safety is then assured in the end.
Then Lakṣmaṇa’s son picked up the articles for a bath and went along happily with Nāduka who, after finishing his bath in the river, seized the boy and pushed him into a cave nearby. He then blocked the entrance to the cave with a great big boulder and returned to Lakṣmaṇa’s house. Whereupon Lakṣmaṇa asked, ‘Hey there, friend Nāduka; tell me; where is my son, Golden god, who accompanied you to the river?’
‘O, your son?’ replied Nāduka, ‘A hawk carried him off from the river-bank.’
‘What?’ retorted Lakṣmaṇa, ‘A hawk carried off a big boy like Golden god? Impossible.’
‘But it is possible for mice to eat up a balance made of solid iron, is it?’ retorted Nāduka, ‘Look, friend Lakṣmaṇa, return me my iron balance, if you want your son back.’
Hotly disputing in this manner, the two of them went to the palace gates, where Lakṣmaṇa started crying out loud in piercing tones, ‘Help! Help! A dastardly deed has been committed; Nāduka here has kidnapped my son, Golden god.…’
The officers of justice came out and ordered Nāduka, saying, ‘Hey! Sir, you had better return Lakṣmaṇa’s son to him, immediately.’
‘What can I do, Your Honours?’ pleaded Nāduka, ‘Before my very eyes, the hawk carried off the boy.’
‘Come, come, Nāduka, you are not telling the truth,’ retorted the judges, ‘Is it possible for a hawk to lift up and carry off a fifteen-year-old boy?’
Then Nāduka laughed and spoke out boldly. ‘Let Your Honours listen to my words: