by Visnu Sarma
(4) Day by day the wisdom even of the wise
wanes chipped away by constant household worries,
as the beauty of the season of dews pales
touched by the breath of Spring’s warming breezes.
(5) Deprived of wealth and power; preoccupied
with nagging problems of procuring
the family’s wherewithal for mere existence
—butter and oil, grain and salt, fuel and clothing—
even the minds of men with sweeping intellect,
reaching far horizons, start to decay.
(6) Like bubbles on flowing waters,
ever-forming, ever-dissolving,
men down-and-out and weak from lack of fortune,
become insignificant, beneath notice,
even if they are one’s neighbours.
(7) Here in this world, the opulent may indulge
with impunity in many a shameless act:
yet who dares point a finger at them?
Mark how the Lord of Waters3 bellows no end:
the world does not snigger saying, “How unmannerly!”’
Having rehearsed such observations in his mind, Precious Gems reflected, ‘What good is this life full of troubles. Let me abandon it by starving to death.’ And then he fell asleep and started to dream. In his dream he saw before him a hoard of ten crore4 gold coins appear in the shape of a monk.5 And the monk-shape spoke to the dreamer, ‘Oh! Merchant prince, do not give up, do not harbour such loathing for worldly goods. I am a treasure-trove of ten crore gold coins your ancestors earned. In the morning I shall come to your house in this very shape. Then you must club me on the head and kill me so that I will turn into a hoard of inexhaustible gold.’
In the morning Precious Gems woke up and remembering his dream sat pondering over it. ‘Hm… let me think. It was only a dream; whether it will turn out true or false, one cannot say. Oh… ! There is no doubt it will prove to be an illusion; for the simple reason that nowadays my mind being preoccupied with money, day and night I think of money and money only. As the proverbial saying goes:
(8) The dream of the ailing and grief-stricken,
of the anxiety-ridden, the love-sick,
and the drunk, is a mere illusion
bearing no real fruit.’
In the meantime, a certain barber came to the house to manicure his wife’s nails. And as the barber was engaged in manicuring the lady’s nails, the monk-shape of the merchant’s dream suddenly materialized. Precious Gems, on seeing it, was transported with joy and picking up a stout wooden cudgel, he gave the shape a good hard blow on the head; and that very instant the monk-shape turned into gold and fell on the floor.
Precious Gems having stowed away the golden shape safely inside took the barber aside and giving him a handsome tip cautioned him, ‘Now, my good fellow, pray do not report any of what happened here in my house to anyone, do you understand?’
The barber readily agreed and went home. Then he began to reflect on what he had seen. ‘It must be that all these naked mendicants turn to gold whenever they are hit on the head. So, I, too, shall invite a number of them and hit them on the head with a cudgel so that I can gain a whole store of gold.’
Having passed the rest of that day and the night on tenterhooks meditating on his plan, the barber rose early in the morning and went to the monastery. There he draped his upper cloth in the manner prescribed, went thrice round the image of the Victorious,6 got down on his knees, folded his hands in reverence and covering the gateways7 in his face began intoning the following chants in a high-pitched voice.
(9) Virtuous are the anchorites
radiant with highest knowledge
who make their minds’ soil infertile
for the seed of worldly existence.
‘Furthermore:
(10) Blessed is the tongue that praises the Victorious
and blessed the mind fixed on Him;
those two hands that offer worship to Him,
they alone deserve praise glorious.’
And the barber chanted many more praises in the same vein, after which he sought the presence of the abbot. Dropping on his knees on the floor he spoke with great reverence, ‘My salutations, Your Holiness.’ In return he received the benediction of the abbot for the increase of virtue in him, and instructions for the inflexible vow of perpetual celibacy as well. Then he devoutly made this request: ‘Do me the favour, Your Holiness, of directing today’s walk for alms towards my home accompanied by all the monks.’
The abbot, bristling, replied, ‘O, devotee, why do you speak such words, though you are conversant with the precepts of our order? What! Do you think we are Brāhmanas8 to go running to households to eat that you invite us to your home? We walk around as the will prompts us and if we happen to meet a Jaina devotee distinguished for his piety, we enter his home and ask for alms. So, begone; never again speak to me this manner.’
To this the barber replied, ‘I am certainly conversant with the precepts that govern your order, Your Holiness. But, there are many pious devotees who honour you with invitations to their homes. We too have ready, pieces of cloth to wrap manuscripts in, and funds set apart as well, for the writing of manuscripts and for the payment of scribes employed in such activities. So bearing this in mind, it is for His Holiness to make his decision.’
With these meaningful words, the barber went home and got ready a stout cudgel of acacia wood which he hid in a corner behind the door. Close to noontime he went again to the monastery and stood waiting at the gates. As the monks filed out in due order, he importuned them to visit his home. And all of them tempted by the prospect of manuscript covers and money, passed by their most pious devotees and trooped happily behind the barber. How true the saying is:
(11) Alone in the world having abandoned
home and family, he is clad in space,9
and eats out of the bowl his cupped palms make;
even he is led astray by Desire.
Is that not something to wonder at?
The barber led the monks right inside his house and started hitting them on the head with his cudgel. A few died instantaneously; others with heads broken set up a terrible howling. At this point, the soldiers on duty in the city-fort hearing the awful sounds of shrieking, exclaimed, ‘Good heavens! What is this terrible hullabaloo coming from within the city. Let us go and investigate.’ And they dashed post-haste in the direction from which these unholy sounds were coming; and what did they see but the holy monks rushing out of the barber’s house with blood streaming down their limbs. Seeing the horrid sight the soldiers asked, ‘What is the meaning of all this?’ And the monks came out with accounts of the barber’s dastardly act.
The soldiers seized the barber, bound and fettered him and conveyed him along with the monks who had survived the slaughter, to the courts of justice where the judges questioned him thus, ‘Why have you done this horrendous deed, sir?’
‘Your Honours,’ the barber responded, ‘In the circumstances, what else could I do?’ and retailed the whole story of what had taken place in the house of the merchant, Precious Gems.
The judges immediately despatched a person to summon Precious Gems; and when he was brought before them, the judges questioned him, ‘Sir merchant, did you kill a monk?’
Precious Gems then disclosed to the judges the events surrounding his dream and its sequel. Whereupon the judges gave their judgement, ‘Ho there, guards; take this villainous barber away and have him impaled; for he is guilty of a blood-curdling deed of horror.’
When the sentence had been carried out, the judges spoke severely:
(12) ‘Let no man ever contemplate
an act ill-conceived and ill-considered,
ill-done without proper scrutiny
like the hare-brained barber in our city.
(13) Inspect a matter with utmost care
before jumping to conclusions
and rushing headlong into actions;
else
, bitter remorse is let loose,
as in the tale of lady and mongoose.’
‘And what might that tale be, Your Honours?’ inquired the merchant, Precious Gems. And the judges began the tale of The Brākmani10 and the faithful Mongoose.
Once a Brāhmana named Deva Śarma lived in a certain settlement. His wife gave birth to a little boy and on the same day a female mongoose died after giving birth. As the Brāhmani tenderly loved little creatures, she took up the baby mongoose as if it were her own child, nursed him at her breast, bathed him, massaged him with oils and generally reared him with affection. But there was always a little doubt, a little fear lurking in her mind regarding the little animal. ‘After all,’ she told herself, ‘this fellow comes of a family of predators; and sometime or other he might attack and harm my little son; who knows? For there is truth in what is commonly held:
(14) Folks might have a bad son, wayward,
and wilful, even ill-favoured;
an idiot may be, or even a rogue,
one addicted to vice, yet he brings
joy and delight to the hearts of his parents.’
Once, having tucked her son into his cradle, the Brāhmani picked up her water-pot and said to her husband, ‘Hey, great preceptor, I have to fetch water; see that the mongoose does not harm the child,’ and left.
As soon as she had left, the Brāhmana too went off on his rounds to beg for alms, leaving the house empty. Just then, as Fate would have it, a black serpent emerged from its hole and started crawling towards the child’s cradle. The mongoose recognizing him to be a natural enemy and fearing for the life of his baby brother, met the serpent halfway, joined battle with him and tore him to pieces, scattering the bits far and wide. Then delighted with his own heroism, he ran, blood smeared all over his face, to meet his mother, eager and proud to show her what he had accomplished.
But when the mother saw him come running towards her in great excitement, and saw his blood-spattered face and bloody mouth, she grew frightened thinking; ‘Aha! This vicious beast has killed and eaten my darling little boy.’ And without a second thought and with her mind seething with suspicion, she angrily dropped the water-pot on the poor little mongoose who died instantly. Leaving the little mongoose lying dead at that very spot, without giving it another thought she hurried home, only to see the baby safe and sound; and near the cradle a great black serpent torn to bits. Overwhelmed with grief arid remorse at having thoughtlessly killed the son who had proved a true benefactor, the Brāhmani beat her head and breast wildly.
At this moment the Brāhmana returned from his daily round of seeking alms, with a pot of rice-gruel and saw his wife bewailing the loss of her son, the little mongoose. As soon as she saw her husband, the Brāhmani reproached him bitterly, crying out: ‘Shame! O, shame on you, sir, overcome by an excess of desire for food, you did not listen to me and do as I asked you to. Experience the sorrow of the loss of a child now; taste the bitter fruit borne by the tree of your own ill deeds; for that is what happens to those blinded by excessive desire; as it is observed:
(15) Neither give rein to excessive desire,
nor abstain from desire altogether.
A wheel whirls over the head of one
overcome by excess of desire.’
‘How is that?’ inquired the Brāhmana. And then the Brāhmani began the tale of The Four Treasure-seekers.
In a certain settlement lived four Brāhmanas who were the best of friends. Beset by abject poverty they talked among themselves. ‘Oh! What a terrible curse is this poverty! And how beautifully it is said:
(16) A man’s strengths might be grounded in justice,
but if he has no money in his purse,
he might provide good and faithful service,
yet his employer hates his guts;
his close kin leave him all at once,
high and dry; and his sons,
his own flesh-and-blood forsake him too;
the wife though nobly-born
grows cold and pays him no honour;
good friends shun his very sight;
virtues do not glow forth bright,
and miseries wax and grow apace.
‘Moreover:
(17) Brave, handsome and eloquent
a man may be,
with grace of manner and mastery
of all the fields of learning;
yet in this world of ours, if money
does not back all these qualities,
the crowning laurels of Art are not his.
‘Death is far better than a state of penury. As it has been admirably expressed in this little vignette:
(18) A pauper hastened to the burning-grounds,
and addressed a corpse: ‘Stand up a moment,
my friend, and lift off and bear this burden
grievous, of my grinding penury;
for of late I have grown weary,
and I long to have instead
the peace and comfort you have dead.’
But the corpse remained silent, knowing well
a man is better dead than poor.
‘So, we should strive at all costs to acquire wealth; as we have heard:
(19) Nothing in this world there is
that wealth cannot accomplish;
so, let the sole aim be
of men of sense, to make money.
‘This wealth that we are talking of can be acquired in six ways, as follows: by begging; by serving kings; by farming; by teaching; by money-lending; and by trade. But of all these only one, trade, is best suited for the acquisition of wealth with no curbs or controls. As the saying goes:
(20) Crows can peck at what is gathered by begging:
and changeable is the mind of a king:
farming, alas, is such hard labour;
a teacher’s living is beset cruelly
by the need to bow and eat humble pie;
You remain poor lending to your neighbour;
for your livelihood, your life
—your wealth, that is— is held in other hands.
So, no occupation compares with trade;
nothing’s more worthwhile, I conclude, in life.
‘As we are now talking of trade as the best means of gathering wealth, let it be known that trade is sevenfold, as follows: use of false weights and measures; boosting prices; running a pawnshop or mortgage firm; retail trade; stock companies; perfumeries; and export and foreign trade. But it has been said:
(21) Not weighing a full measure;
always quoting false prices;
swindling consistently
one’s regular customers,
are despicable practices
followed by wild tribes of the hills.
‘Besides:
(22) When goods in a household are pledged,
the pawnbroker prays hard each day;
‘Lord! Let the houseowner be dead,
and I will give you whatever you say.’
‘Also:
(23) The director of a stock company
imagines, rejoicing inwardly;
The whole world is mine, and all its riches,
so what matters all else?
‘Further:
(24) Of wares for trade, perfumes are right on top;
why deal in other stuff, gold and such?
Whatever the cost you buy perfume at
you sell for a thousand times that.
‘Only men with great fortunes are able to engage in foreign trade. As it is observed:
(25) Men who possess immense fortunes
and advertise that far and wide,
they with their wealth capture greater wealth
as tuskers lure great lordly tuskers.
(26) In life, those expert in buying and selling
who travel to distant lands for trading,
double and triple their fortunes
through their unflagging exertions.
‘Moreover:
(27) Afraid of foreign lands,
shiftless and lacking energy,
stay and die in their own country.’
Having resolved thus and decided to go abroad, the friends, all four of them, left their homes, families and friends and set out. Remember what is wisely observed:
(28) A man preoccupied by need for wealth
gives up values, forsakes his family,
abandons his mother and land of birth,
leaves his own place disadvantageous
and quickly goes to foreign places;
what else?
Travelling by stages, the friends reached the kingdom of Avanti11 where they bathed in the waters of the river Śipra and worshipped the Lord in His shrine of Great Time.12 As they continued their journey they met, on the way, a master magician, named Fierce Joy.13 Greeting him in the proper Brāhmanic manner, the four of them then accompanied the magician to his monastery where they were courteously asked by him; ‘Where are you from, noble sirs? And where are you bound for? What may your purpose be?’ To which the four Brāhmanas replied, ‘We are pilgrims in search of magical powers, and we are bent on going to such a place where we shall find all the wealth we seek, or death. This is our firm decision; for as we all know:
(29) Water falls at times from the skies;
at times by digging, it gushes
from deep within the bowels of the earth.
Fate, as you might think, is not all-powerful;
manly exertion is equally so.
(30) It is through true manly exertion
that cherished aims achieve perfect fulfilment;
even what you might describe as Fate,
is simply manliness unmanifest.
(31) In this world, joys come not easily
without the body’s painful striving.
Madhu14 Himself embraced Lakshmi
with arms grown weary from ocean-churning.
‘So, reveal to us some effective way of gaining wealth; whether it is entering the earth’s insides; or summoning through magic powers mysterious spirits of woods and waters; or incantations in burning-grounds; or even selling and offering the flesh of humans and other higher orders of animals. You, sir, are celebrated for possessing marvellous power; and we, are men of extraordinary daring. As it is said:
(32) Only the great can accomplish