by Visnu Sarma
On hearing the patter of the pack, Crumplyear began striking the almsbowl again and again with his old, frayed, bamboo stick. Seeing this, his guest remonstrated, saying, ‘What is this, my friend, you don’t seem to be able to go to sleep peacefully?’
To this Crumplyear replied, ‘Your Reverence, it is that scoundrel of a mole; I am sure he has returned with all his dependants. I do this out of fear of him.’
The guest replied laughing, ‘Have no fear, my friend. The fellow’s energy which enabled him to jump high is gone with his wealth. This is true of all living beings. As the proverb rightly points out:
(67) The man who is always full of energy,
who overcomes others easily,
who in his speech is scornful and haughty,
is what he is, owing to the power born of wealth.’
Hearing these words I was possessed by such anger that I gathered all my strength and made a desperate leap towards the almsbowl—only to miss and fall down on the floor. Seeing me humiliated, my enemy chuckled and told Crumplyear, ‘Look, look, my friend: what fun! Splendid! How true to say:
(68) Every man becomes powerful through wealth;
and a scholar to boot if he has wealth;
just look at this mole who has lost his wealth—
now a plain mole like any other of his kind.
‘And there is wisdom in the proverb:
(69) Like a serpent deprived of his fang,
like an elephant not in rut,
so is a man lacking wealth,
man only in name.’
These words only made me reflect ruefully, ‘Alas! What my enemy says is so true; for today I have not the power to jump even a finger’s breadth. Ha! What is a fellow’s life worth when he has no wealth. Shame, shame upon such a life! As the saying wisely points out:
(70) With men of dim intelligence,
and lacking wealth to boot,
all undertakings fail and get lost
as little streams in summer do.
(71) Barren25 barleycorn, seed of wild sesame,
and men lacking wealth own only a name;
without substance, they produce no fruit.
(72) Your beggar may be an excellent man,
but his other qualities fail to shine.
For as the sun illumines all living things
so wealth makes all virtues shine bright.
(73) Those born poor into this world suffer less
than those who accustomed to happiness
having possessed wealth, lose it all.
(74) Beggar’s desires mount higher and higher
only to fall back into their hearts,
unprofitable26 like the breasts of widowed women.
(75) Encompassed by Poverty’s dark night,
however hard they try they scarcely see
the sun shining in splendour in the day,
manifest clearly before their very eyes.
Thus bewailing my sorry lot and enduring the mortification of seeing my precious hoard used as a pillow, I retreated towards my fortress at dawn, a failure; I had lost all zest for life. My retainers went around prattling in private, ‘Alas! This fellow has no longer the power to fill our bellies. By riding on his coat-tails we get nothing but misery—encounters with cats and the like. So what is the use of rendering him obeisance? As the proverb expresses it succinctly:
(76) A master from whose presence no bounties flow,
and only miseries come flooding—
It is best not to touch him with a bargepole,
is it not? Specially for those who live by arms?’
Such words as these I heard as I entered the fortress; and not one from among my entourage cared to enter the fortress with me; and all because I was penniless. So I began to brood over it all. ‘Ha! A plague upon this poverty,’ I told myself. ‘Alas! How true is the saying:
(77) When a man is penniless, his kinsmen
find no time to give him the time of day;
his pride takes a beating;
his moon of good conduct wanes, vanishes,
leaving no trace;
in cold indifference his friends turn away;
misfortunes swell and burgeon;
soon, others’ misdeeds are imputed to him.
(78) Oppressed by waning fortunes,
struck down by cruel Time,27
a man sees his friends even become foes,
while long-standing affection turns cold.
‘And again:
(79) Empty is a childless home;
empty the heart that lacks a true friend;
empty the horizons to a fool;
all, all is emptiness to the poor.
‘Then again:
(80) Senses unimpaired; speech the very same;
mind still keen; he answers to his name;
the very same man, yes, and yet,
in a trice, he has become another.
How strange! Is it because
he and his wealth are now separated?
‘On the other hand what do such fellows as we have to do with such things as wealth? Fellows whose lives bear this sort of final fruit? For one who has lost his fortune as I have, the best course now is to live in a forest-retreat.28
(81) Resort to a life imbued with surpassing honour;
never rest content with a life of dishonour;
If riding with gods in a celestial car
means eating humble pie—perish the thought!
(82) Men whose heads are held high in honour
should choose adversity
that follows them every step of the way,
rather than expansive prosperity
smeared all over with the slime of dishonour.
And I continued my reflections on this theme: ‘Ah! Beggary is as terrible as death:
(83) Even the life of a tree
that stands in a salt-flat,
twisted, worm-eaten
burned black by forest-fires
is more blest
than the life of a beggar.
‘Besides:
(84) Ah! Beggary! To high-minded man, what is it
but a sanctuary for misfortunes!
An admirable hoard of fears,
ground of fancies and false notions!
An asylum for adversity; meanness incarnate;
ravisher of wise and holy thoughts,
destroyer of the proud spirit;
a pitiable state synonymous with Death!
I cannot see how it is different from Hell.
‘And further:
(85) A man without means feels shame:
covered by shame of spirit he is stripped;
dispirited he is easily humbled;
humbled, he falls into a depression;
depressed, a sadness comes over him;
sad, his intelligence is dimmed;
a weak intelligence leads to wasting;
Alas! Poverty is at the root of all evils.
‘On the other hand, it is:
(86) Far better to thrust your hands into the jaws
of a snake hissing in fury:
far better too to swallow deadly poison
and sleep in the house of Death;
far, far better it is to fall down the slopes
of the Hoary Mountain29
and be dashed into a hundred pieces
rather than revel in riches got from rogues.
‘And further:
(87) It is better for the penniless
to offer their lives up to the flames
than cringe for help before the niggard
who has brushed aside the duty to help others.
(88) It is better to roam with wild beasts
over mountains and gorges
than importune in an abject voice: ‘Give’,
a mean, despicable word.
‘Under such circumstances, what possible course can I adopt to sustain my life? Thievery? But that is most pernicious because it involves appropriating th
e property of others; and on principle:
(89) It is better to be struck dumb forever
than utter a lie;
it is better to be a eunuch
than approach another’s wife;
it is better to lose your life
than mouth spiteful words;
it is better to subsist on alms30
than lust after the wealth of others.
‘In that case, should I live on charity? That too is a dreadful prospect, my friends; quite dreadful: for what is it but a second gateway to death? As the saying goes:
(90) A sick man, a long-time vagrant,
an eater-of-crumbs-off-another’s-table,
one who sleeps on the doorsteps of strangers:
for these, life is death;
for these, death is best.
‘Therefore, looking at the matter from all sides, the only thing left for me to do is to recover my wealth that was carried away by Broadbottom; for surely I did see my treasure-chest put to the use of a pillow by those two evil-hearted men. Even if I die in the attempt it is preferable to this; for:
(91) Even his ancestors will not accept
the holy water offered ritually
by the coward who sees his treasure ravished,
yet lives to endure the loss patiently.’
Having decided upon this course of action, I slipped quietly at night into the monk’s cell. Seeing him sound asleep I gnawed a hole in the bag that held my treasure. The monk woke up and hit me hard on the head with his frayed, old bamboo stick. For some reason or other I escaped death, perhaps because I still had some more years to live. What! Is this not so? That:
(92) A man gets what he is destined to have;
God Himself cannot violate this law.
Therefore I do not grieve; I am not dismayed;
what is ours can never be another’s.’
The crow and tortoise exclaimed, ‘O, how is that?’ And Goldy began the tale of The man who received what was his.
In a certain city there lived a merchant named Sāgaradatta31 whose son once picked up a book which was on sale for a hundred rupees. In it was written just one line of a verse:
A man gets what he is destined to have.
Reading that Sāgaradatta asked his son, ‘My dear boy, how much did you buy this book for?’ And his son replied, ‘For a hundred rupees, sir.’
‘What?’ expostulated the father. ‘You inimitable blockhead! You went and paid a hundred rupees for a book in which just one line of a verse is written! With this kind of intelligence how will you ever acquire wealth? Leave my house this minute never to enter it again.’ Thus severely reprimanding his son, Sāgaradatta threw him out of the house.
Bitterly humiliated by his father’s words, the son left his home for some very remote land and landed up in a certain city where he took up residence. After some days a native of that city approached him and enquired, ‘Sir, where have you come from? And what may your name be, sir?’ And the young man answered, ‘The-man-who-receives-his-desserts, sir.’ When some other person asked him the same question, he gave the same reply, The-man-who-receives-his-desserts.’ On every occasion that he was asked his name, he gave the same reply, so that soon he became known by this name, Mister Justdesserts.
Now, one day, Princess Moonlight32 stood with her friend, looking out at the city. She was radiant, in the first flush of youth and beauty. A certain prince, uncommonly handsome and charming, happened, by one of those tricks of Fate, to be just at that spot at that very moment. The very instant the princess set eyes on him, she was struck by Love’s flower-arrows. Turning to her friend, she cried, ‘O, my dear friend, pray try your best to arrange for a meeting today with this person.’ The friend hurried at once to the prince and said, ‘I come to you from Princess Moonlight and she sends you this message : “From the moment I set eyes on you, I have been sick unto death for love of you; if you do not come quickly to me, I shall surely die.”’
Hearing these words, the prince remarked, ‘If there is this dire need for my presence, then tell me how I can enter the palace.’
‘Listen,’ said the friend, ‘At night you will see a stout ladder of woven leather hanging from an upper balcony of the palace for you to climb.’ ‘Well,’ replied the prince, ‘If this is Your Ladyship’s plan, I shall follow it accordingly.’
Having concluded the arrangement, the friend returned to the princess. When night fell the prince remained lost in thought. He said to himself:
(93) ‘A preceptor’s daughter, or a friend’s wife,
the wife of one’s master or of one’s man:
A man who approaches any of these, it is said,
is guilty of Brahmanicide33.
‘And further:
(94) Action that brings dishonour,
or leads to one’s downfall,34
or brings about the loss of one’s wealth
should never be undertaken.’
Having thought over the matter carefully, the prince decided not to meet the princess. In the meantime, Mister Justdesserts who was roaming around in the city at night noticed a ladder of woven leather hanging down the side of a fine, stucco mansion. And out of a mixture of curiosity and adventurousness he took hold of it and climbed up. On seeing him, the princess quite confident that he was the right man, received him with all the courtesies; offered him a luxurious bath, fine food and drink, finest garments and the like; after which she led him to her bed. With her limbs thrilling with rapture from his touch, she whispered, ‘Having fallen in love with you at first sight, I have given myself to you. Never shall I even think of another man as my husband. Now that you know this, why don’t you converse with me?’ But all the young man said in reply was:
‘A man gets what he is destined to have.’
Hearing this, the princess whose heart almost stopped beating, quickly sent him packing down the ladder. The young man made his way to a ruined temple and went to sleep. After a while a policeman, who had an assignation at that temple with a woman of easy virtue, came and found a man fast asleep. Wishing to keep his secret safe, the policeman asked him, ‘Who are you, sir?’ And the man replied:
‘The man who gets what he is destined to have.’
When he heard this, the policeman said, ‘Look, this is a deserted temple; why don’t you go and sleep in my bed.’
Reaching that place as directed, the young man by mistake entered the wrong room, where the policeman’s daughter, named Miss Modesty, a big girl blessed with youth and beauty, lay waiting, having made a date with a certain man she was infatuated with. When she saw Mister Justdesserts walk in, she thought to herself, ‘Ah! Here he is, my own beloved.’ Failing to recognize the man in pitch darkness, she rose and married herself to him by Gandharva rites.35 Then, lying in bed with him, her eyes and face radiant like blossoming lotuses, she whispered, ‘How is it that even now you refrain from speaking freely with me?’ And the man replied:
‘A man gets what he is destined to have.’
Thoroughly nonplussed, she was plunged into thought; ‘Alas! This is the kind of unripe fruit that one picks when one acts without due deliberation.’ She pondered ruefully over what she had done, then having reprimanded him more from sorrow than anger, she sent him out of the house.
As Mister Justdesserts went down the main street, a marriage procession was entering the city to the sound of splendid music, and headed by a bridegroom named Fineglory, a man from another city. Mister Justdesserts decided to join this procession.
Since the auspicious moment was fast approaching, the bride, daughter of a rich merchant, who was president of the guild, was waiting at the gateway of her father’s mansion on the Royal Highway. Dressed in her ritually-sanctified wedding clothes, with the sacred marriage-thread already wound round her wrist, she stood on a beautifully decorated dais.
At that moment, an elephant in rut was rampaging, maddened, having killed its rider; and it was creating no end of confusion as people ran here and there, terrified. An
d worse, the animal was headed in the direction of the marriage procession. One glimpse of the fierce animal and the whole entourage of the bridegroom, and the bridegroom too, fled towards the far horizon.
In this crisis, Mister Justdesserts noticed the bride, left all alone; her eyes were trembling in wild terror. ‘Do not be afraid; I shall protect you,’ he said in a resolute and reassuring tone. Then putting his right arm36 round the bride, he addressed the elephant with admirable boldness, severely taking it to task for its misdemeanour. And strangely enough, as Fate would have it, the animal actually retreated and left the place.
In the meantime, seeing the coast clear, the bridegroom, Fineglory, with his entourage of relatives and friends arrived well past the auspicious time set for the wedding. And what does he see but his bride-to-be held by another man. He looked around and noticing the bride’s father, remarked sharply, ‘Hey! Father-in-law, sir! What is this that you have done? It is hardly right that you should promise me your daughter in marriage, and then give her to this man.’
‘I was also frightened by the elephant, Sir Fineglory, and fled in- fear; I have just this minute returned with the rest of you; and I haven’t a clue as to what happened in the interval,’ answered the bride’s father, and then began to question his daughter. ‘My darling, it is not a nice thing that you have done. So now, tell me what happened.’
And the girl replied, ‘Dear Father, this man came to my rescue when my very life was in danger. So, no other man will ever hold my hand; not as long as I live.’
By the time these events had become common knowledge the night was over. As dawn broke a great crowd had gathered at the merchant’s house. Hearing this story that was on everybody’s lips, Princess Moonlight arrived there. Learning of these events that had spread by word of mouth, the policeman’s daughter also came there. Not only that: the king himself, informed of the great concourse milling at the gates of the merchant’s mansion, arrived and spoke to Mister Justdesserts, ‘Now, look, sir, speak freely; tell me everything as it happened.’ To this Mister Justdesserts’ only reply was: