‘That you delay Ashoka’s army. The later he gets to Taxila, the better.’
‘When will Ashoka get here?’
‘Tomorrow, I imagine.’
‘Tomorrow? Impossible! The Maharajah’s advance troops said that it would take at least another half of a month.’
‘He has already arrived in Mathura today.’
‘That is what I call commanding an army! Who is his advisor?’
‘The undistinguished Brahmin, Kullika, a pupil of Sayana’s.’
‘How would you have me delay the army?’
‘Must I teach that to someone who lives in the jungle? You have herbs, pupils, Vaishyas, perhaps even impure hunters or shepherds at your disposal. You can cause illness among the horses and elephants, or people if the gods find that necessary! Asita, the gods do not want the Wild Prince because he neglects them.’
‘Then know this, Devaka, I shall not help you. You are on the wrong path. Woe betide the people whose priests declare that their own selfish will is that of the gods. You remain desirous. And what is the fate of those who desire? A return to a new earthly existence! Do you know, Devaka, what a new earthly existence will bring to you? He, who is devoid of desire—nay, has silenced desire—his life-spirit is not extinguished; he is Atman merged into the Brahman. If all the passions that nestle within the human heart disappear, then he who is mortal, becomes immortal: he then abides in Brahman. Devaka … If the Maharajah sends Ashoka, it is partly on Sayana’s advice. Sayana was already a wise man when he studied with me in Taxila, when Devaka was but a child. I do not interfere with decisions of a Maharajah who governs the vast Indian land in wisdom and respects the good Brahmins. According to the Arthashastra he is the only one to decide who will succeed him, who will be Crown Prince. Do you think that I will break the sacred laws of the Maharajah? How do you know, that the gods want what you want! How do you know, that Sayana’s advice was wrong and that Bindusara made the worst choice by choosing Ashoka as army commander?’
‘He harms the varna of the Brahmins!’ rasped Devaka.
‘Are you or Bindusara or Sayana or Kullika to determine that?’
‘We! Because we know that Sumana will obey the Brahmins and thus govern wisely.’
‘Which Brahmins?’ asked Asita with skepticism. ‘The ones like Richika or the ones like Sayana?’
‘Brahmins who know how one rules a land without harming the varna.’
‘Kshatriyas will govern the land, Brahmins show the Aryans the divine path, Vaishyas work the soil, and Shudras serve. Thus is arranged by the Brahmins.’
‘But the Brahmins make sure the arrangement is sustained.’
‘That is the task of the purohita. Since Prince Ashoka’s advisor is a pupil of Sayana’s, you should have no objection to that, Brahmin.’
Devaka remained silent. His anger prevented him from ordering his thoughts. Asita waited, not interrupting.
‘Show me to my bed, Asita.’
‘As you wish.’
Just then, a dark shape left its hiding place in the immediate vicinity.
Early the following morning, Asita’s bramacharins told him that Devaka’s horse lay dead in the corral. Asita was shocked.
‘Go to Lamba, the Vaishya, and ask if he can take Devaka in a bullock cart to Indraprastha.’ Asita then said to Devaka: ‘To my great regret, your horse was found dead in the corral.’
‘Dead?’ Devaka looked at the Brahmin suspiciously. ‘Brahmin hospitality also involves taking care of the possessions of the guest, Asita.’
‘What do you mean, Devaka?’ asked the hermit calmly.
‘Perhaps, you think it of greater importance for your karma to support the commander of the Maharajah’s army, the Shudra Ashoka in his endeavours than the Brahmin Devaka.’
Asita stared directly into his eyes for a long time; then he turned his back to him.
‘Perform your pujas, eat your meal, and leave the hermitage. A bullock-cart is waiting on the road to take you to Indraprastha.’ Asita went back to the verandah and immersed himself in his sacred scriptures.
Some time later Devaka took leave. The Vedacharya did not look up nor acknowledged his expressions of gratitude nor did he wish him a good journey. A brahmacharin took Devaka to the bullock-cart.
Late in the late afternoon, Prince Kala, along with his guard, rode up to the hermitage. Delighted Asita walked up to meet his new guest.
‘My Prince Kala! That you were still able to find my hermitage. What a joy it is to see you!’
‘Thank you, my Guru, my joy to see the holy Asita is surely no less great.’
‘Have you come on a mission that you take soldiers along? Or, may I offer you my hospitality? You look tired.’
‘I belong to Prince Ashoka’s army. The Brahmin Devaka tries to thwart his mission.’ Kala then told him what had transpired in Mathura. Asita embraced his former pupil in compassion.
‘Is vengeance not the task of the Raja of Mathura?’
‘The King believes that the gods have punished him and Madri. Prince Ashoka has left it to me to capture and try the Brahmin.’
‘Do not kill a Brahmin, my Kala. The Brahmins will never forgive you. Your life may be a long one. And hatred is not cured by hatred.’
‘Devaka is neither worthy of hatred nor forgiveness, as little as a hungry tiger is. He must be rendered harmless, though I had to promise Prince Ashoka, not to kill the criminal.’
‘Then it is good. The young army commander seems wiser to me than Devaka thinks.’ Then, Asita told the Prince what had happened in the hermitage.
‘I shall follow him immediately, revered Asita.’
‘First, come in with your soldiers, my Kala, refresh yourself a little in my refuge. Devaka is on his way to Indraprastha and will not escape you. He is not yet a half-a-day’s journey ahead and is travelling in a bullock-cart.’
After having bathed and eaten, Kala continued his pursuit …
Devaka had been delayed. While the oxen proceeded quite rapidly, the priest kept thinking about what needed to be done in Indraprastha and Taxila. Then, above the sounds of the animals and the rumble of the old cart, he heard someone calling out to the Vaishya Lamba. Lamba took no notice of the young man who was waving his arms by the side of the road. Devaka sat up and bid Lamba to stop the cart.
The man on foot came hastily closer. But when he saw the Brahmin, he appeared to turn timid. Devaka observed him keenly: a strong virile young man with a sensual face; a blush deepened the colour of his light brown cheeks.
‘What is it you want?’
‘I wanted to ask if I could ride along, Lord, but I did not know a priest was sitting in the cart.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘To Taxila, Lord.’
‘To study?’
‘Yes, Lord.’ Devaka noticed his hesitation and shyness.
‘You are a brahmacharin?’
‘Yes, Lord, I was.’ Devaka jumped off the cart and walked some way back with him.
‘With whom? Who are you? And why did you leave before completing your studies?’
The young man looked anxiously at the stern Brahmin.
‘Lord, my name is Shakuni. For four years I was a brahmacharin with the old Brahmin Dhaumya.’ Devaka stared into the eyes of the young man for a time.
‘You have sinned, Shakuni, I know it.’
‘Yes, Lord.’
‘Tell me. Beware of lying to a Brahmin! He who lies will be heavily chained by Varuna and kept helpless for a hundred lifetimes.’
‘Yes, Lord. About a year ago, the holy Dhaumya was infatuated by the beauty of a young Vaishya woman and forced her father to give her to him in marriage. Kama kindled an improper love in my heart, Lord, for that woman, the beautiful Sari. And soon I noticed that she was not averse to my feelings, sinful and unbridled though they were. I fought against it! It robbed me of my sleep, yet did not prevent me from performing my tasks. I worked feverishly trying to crush my restlessness. I obeyed the rules that a br
ahmacharin was expected to follow, had my hair shorn, never forgot my staff and sacred thread. My dress was of bark. I never succumbed to pleasure or enjoyment, Lord, I never ate before my master had eaten. I was the first to awaken; with joy I gathered firewood from the forests for the sacred fires. Every evening I washed my master’s feet and prepared his bed for him, before I laid myself down to sleep. But Kama brought about my fall. I could restrain my love for Sari no longer. Even while learning the sacred Vedas, I could not erase her from my mind … if she was not there herself. Kama’s power drove me more and more towards her, and I felt she, too, loved me. In my dreams she was my beloved. I should have left my master’s house then and told him why I was leaving. I convinced myself that my feelings for Sari would disappear, if I would but dutifully perform my rituals as a brahmacharin. In reality I did not want to keep a distance from her. The Vedic chants refused to enter my head. I punished myself sometimes till I drew blood, when my sinful love pestered me too much. Kama blinded me. I could no longer learn. Finally, we revealed our love to each other. The holy Dhaumya appeared not to notice and so we became more careless, until my master found me one night in her arms, Lord …’
‘Violating a guru’s bed!’ Devaka cried out angrily.
‘Yes, Lord.’ Shakuni bowed deeply before the priest.
‘That is a deadly sin!’2
‘I know it, Lord. Dhaumya drove me away. He did not want to place a charge against me because I had always fulfilled my duties. Now, I do not dare to go back to my father. I had heard that an uprising has broken out in Taxila. I am going there, Lord. No one knows me out there.’
‘The gods will never forgive your shameful deed.’
‘No, Lord. That is why I seek the accursed land on the other side of the Sarasvati.’
‘… Unless a holy Brahmin intervenes.’
‘Lord! What kind of penance would I have to do to atone for this sin?’
‘Unconditional obedience to the Brahmins! Fight every infringement of Brahmanical laws, to death if necessary. Protect every Brahmin against heretics and sinners. I may then be able to undo your sin.’
Shakuni leapt up from his repentant pose.
‘Lord, I will do everything you order me to do.’
‘I am also going to Taxila, but my life is in danger. I do not tolerate the violation of our law books and so anyone who sins against it is my enemy. That is why I am in constant danger. Protect me.’
After giving him some further information Devaka took him on with the customary ceremonial as his pupil.
‘Now, you owe me your unconditional obedience. It is on my word alone that the gods can liberate you from your terrible sin, Shakuni.’
‘Yes, Lord.’ Both of them then climbed onto the bullock-cart, and continued along the road to Indraprastha. Shakuni took up as little room as possible so that he would not bother the priest.
Prince Kala followed the tracks of the bullock-cart as long as daylight permitted him. He then looked for a hermitage to spend the night, and not until the following afternoon did he come face-to-face, first with Revata, then with his enemy. He approached swiftly and forced Lamba to halt.
‘Get out of the cart, Devaka.’
The Brahmin did not move but recognised Prince Kala and understood what drove him.
‘Seize him!’ Before long, Devaka was standing among the soldiers.
‘Who is your companion?’ Devaka did not answer.
‘Who are you, brahmacharin?’
‘The Brahmin Devaka has allowed me to ride along in his cart.’
‘Do you know Devaka?’
‘Not till I had met him yesterday.’
Lamba was now sent back, Shakuni had to continue his journey on foot, and Kala led the Brahmin along an elephant path into the jungle, far from the Emperor’s Road. Surrounded by the savage jungle, Kala halted in a small clearing where wild elephants had been taking their meal. There the Prince had Devaka bound to a tree, tying each limb separately as well as his head with leather thongs.
‘I know all that you did in Mathura, Devaka: you overheard Prince Ashoka’s conversations, you used Koli, you manipulated the Raja, Devaka; now I only want to know why Princess Madri had to die … and who killed her.’
‘I am a Brahmin and do not let a Kshatriya question me.’
‘The Maharajah’s army commander has ordered me to capture and try you.’
‘Would not the commander rather do that himself?’
‘You know who I am, and now, answer! A commander will not show pity or respect even to a Brahmin, if he is a threat to the army.’
‘Because Madri disobeyed the gods.’
‘Who killed her on the order of the gods?’
Devaka remained stubbornly silent. Kala repeated his question more forcefully, but received no answer.
‘Break his left leg!’
Not the slightest sound escaped Devaka. The horsemen stood unmoved.
‘Who?’ No answer. ‘Now his right arm.’
‘Know that the most terrible punishment awaits you in the deepest hell, Kshatriya dogs! My curse shall strike you in this life and in the next hundred lives!’
Devaka’s moans swept trembling through the woods, but the hearts of the warriors seemed to be as unmoved for this priest as the trees around him.
‘My men will not be stopped by the ranting of a murderer. Go on!’
Devaka did not utter a sound, but fainted. Kala waited quietly until the priest recovered his consciousness. Then, he said in an icy voice: ‘Now, his right leg. Or do you wish to speak?’
‘I myself, wretch!’ Devaka hissed. His face was distorted by rage and pain. ‘The gods … wanted a guilty one … offered … and you are next … You are cursed … You all will die before Taxila and be reborn as impure Chandalas and Shudra dogs, for a thousand births … you Brahmin killers!’
A few warriors turned pale and drew back.
‘Seal his mouth, which is as false as the jaws of a cobra. First, save your own soul before you start with ours, woman-killer!’
Kala inspected the bonds and ordered everyone to return back on to the Emperor’s Road. They did not bother to look at Devaka again.
A little later, Shakuni emerged from the woods, carefully loosened all the ropes, supported the moaning Brahmin and laid him gingerly on the moss. With utmost care he bound the broken limbs with splint, lifted Devaka onto his back, and carried him to the Emperor’s Road, resting at every turn along the way. With much effort he reached a recluse, where the priest received the nursing he needed. Devaka understood that Ashoka would leave him far behind and did not know who now should replace him. The residents of the recluse turned out to be faithful subjects of Bindusara, or feared him. Shakuni devoted himself wholly to his new master, who bore his forced idleness poorly.
In the evening, Shakuni informed him that Ashoka’s army had gone ahead. Devaka spat out a terrible curse. Finally, he decided to send Shakuni ahead with a mission to Taxila although no king or Brahmin would probably take any note of the instructions of a brahmacharin, concerning secret measures against the feared commander of Bindusara’s army. Ashoka would escape the dangers of the court in Indraprastha.
That evening, Ashoka learned from Revata that Devaka had been freed by his young disciple.
10
THE INTERRUPTED SATI
shoka’s arrival in Indraprastha came as a complete surprise. The army proceeded to the nagaradhyaksha1, Bindusara’s chief magistrate. The Prince knew that the tributary Raja was a Kshatriya who rarely involved himself with the task of governing his land; the only thing he knew how to do was to collect taxes so that he could live a life of luxury. Drinks and women had weakened the Raja; he preferred to leave the governing to Bindusara’s officers. When Shakuni called on him and informed him of Devaka’s wishes, he replied:
‘Prince Ashoka receives my fullest hospitality.’
‘Devaka wants you to give him a festive welcome to the city, O, Raja.’
‘One who is already
in the city cannot be welcomed anymore, tell your Lord that.’
‘The Maharajah does not look with favour on those who do not give his son the appropriate honour.’
‘The Maharajah did not inform me of his commander’s arrival.’
‘The gods want you to offer Prince Ashoka the pleasures of your court.’
‘My purohita did not discuss this. So, I do not know the will of the gods, my young man.’
Shakuni understood that he could not accomplish much here and travelled quickly on to Taxila.
Ashoka collected all the information he needed, set up a speedy messenger-duty with Pataliputra, keenly interrogated a few sthanikas2 and the head of the foreigner’s department, and came to the conclusion that most likely the Taxilans had no notion yet that he was arriving. He politely refused any welcome; he became more cautious as he neared the end of his march. That very day he continued by taking the shortest road to Taxila. Although it traversed the northern-most portion of the Indian desert, there were few rivers to delay his progress. Once he had crossed the Shataadru, he would arrive in the fertile Punjab …
Kullika interrupted his thoughts as he asked: ‘Do you not wish to hold an offering ceremony, before entering the West which lies on the left bank of the Sarasvati? Let us not neglect the gods.’
‘My work is my offering, my Kullika. According to Sayana, that is the most complete offering. I offer to the god of the day by my use of the day, the god of war through my conscientious preparation for war, Shiva by sustaining all that lives and destroying that which deserves death.’
‘And your offerings until now have been received with favour, my Prince. Your quick decisions are a continuous offering to the gods.’
‘But when I reflect in silence, my Kullika, I sometimes have doubts about what is worthy of life and what is not.’
‘Shiva, the god of life and death, shall direct your mind, O, Prince, and bless your deeds.’
‘Perhaps …’
The army pressed on even more rapidly. The forests began to thin as they neared the Sarasvati, but when the border between India and ‘the accursed West’ was crossed, the scantiness of vegetation became even more alarming. The elephants, in particular, survived the sandy stretches poorly. Ashoka’s concern for the animals increased as difficulties grew. Every waterway or pool was used for spraying and bathing the animals, despite the loss of time. As they proceeded, Ashoka would ride back and forth spotting every weak point and having it set right. Man and animal equally shared in his never-failing care, especially now that the endless sea of sand lay stretched out before them. But his thoughts as ever kept tossing about in his mind.
Ashoka the Great Page 14