Ashoka the Great

by Keuning, Wytze

  Sudgata fell to his knees, exhausted and overcome, and bowed his head to the floor. Sanghamitra stood up, sobbing, walked towards him and put her hand on his shoulder. ‘Get up, Sudgata.’

  Sudgata raised himself up and looked up at her, upset. Then his questing eyes wandered over to the Maharajah.

  ‘That is the sentence of my daughter for the father of Kesina, my Sudgata. Get up. We will investigate your case. Lipikara, order immediately for a hundred riders to Sravasti. Have them bring here as soon as possible, Sudgata’s family, the purohita of Bali, the employees who were present during the arrival of Sudgata in the government house and the eight servants of Bali. Sudgata will be our guest for the time being.’

  ‘Gracious Maharajah, let me join them to Sravasti.’

  ‘No.’

  21

  THE GAME OF THE RANI-CHOICE

  ext it was the turn of the inhabitants of Pataliputra. One of the last ones was Rauma.

  ‘Rauma, you are the son of a rich Vaishya, a tradesman of Kashi.’ Rauma turned pale and lowered his proud head.

  ‘Yes, gracious Maharajah.’

  ‘Why did you go to Taxila?’

  ‘Sire, I loathed the trade. I was Brahmacharin with a very learned Brahmin who finally initiated me into the secret doctrine. When I left I asked him, after my father had gifted him a large endowment for my pupilage, whether a Vaishya could ever become a Brahmin, like Nachiketas1, the son of Vagasravasa. He answered: ‘Go to Taxila, my son, and there learn to delve deep into the Vedas. It depends on your knowledge whether for you the boundaries of the varna give way.’ Father permitted me, so I studied diligently in the far west, and with success.’

  ‘Why you did become the friend of Prince Kala and Vimalamitra?’ Again, Rauma was astonished.

  ‘Because I despised Raja Sumana, and especially his mindless council.’

  ‘Because of that you forfeited your varna and fled to Ujjain.’

  ‘Yes, revered Maharajah, the council wanted to have me imprisoned. That would have meant my death. Gopa, Raumi and Tungi, at whose house I met Prince Kala often, requested Nila, the sarthavaha, to help me escape to Ujjain. Disguised as a camel-servant, I reached Ujjain together with him, where Vasudeva, on the recommendation of Prince Kala, appointed me as a Purusha for road-inspection in Malwa. In that way I came to know the west, from Bharuchkacha to Vidisha and even the pilgrim routes along the Narmada.’

  ‘And the stupa of Sanchi.’

  ‘Yes, revered Maharajah. Sire, an irresistible feeling impelled me to go to Pataliputra. In Vidisha and in Sanchi, I saw the Maharani Devi, and …’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know. Why did not you ask Vasudeva for a recommendation for me?’

  ‘Sire, I would have had to tell him then the reason why I went, for I did not want to deceive him.’

  ‘But you deceived the head of the Brahmin-court. You are a Vaishya.’

  ‘I knew of your struggle with the sacrificial priests. Revata misled them. Why should I not mislead them for my purpose? It opened the door to the palace for me, and maybe …’

  ‘Yes, yes, I know. What is it, Rauma, that you want to achieve?’

  ‘Maybe, that one day I can enter into your service. Therefore, I have asked to see you today, O, Maharajah. I know that you once had taken on a Shudra as highest Purusha of Bharuchkacha, that you have had a Shudra as your most important informant, a Vaishya as your chief palace-guard, a Kshatriya as the Viceroy of Taxila. Why could I not be of service to you?’

  ‘As what?’

  ‘Whatever you wish, O, Maharajah. In the Brahmin-court, with its concern for petty ceremonies, and even more concern for their own trifling bodily welfare, I get choked, revered Maharajah. It is an unworthy life, for which thousands of men waste their vigour.’

  ‘Waste, you say, Rauma?’

  ‘Whoever has been looking around in your great empire, knows that even without ceremonies or sacrifices, everything happens just as well. No drought, no heat, no hail, no flood, no earthquake, stops at the word of a priest, and no rain or fertility comes because of his offering ceremony. It stops or it comes, in spite of him. For the person who offers as much as for the one who does not offer. Do I then still wish to be a sacrificial priest and be only concerned about my clothes, food, shelter and fees? Then I would rather lie down on a couch in my father’s home and languish on his riches!’

  ‘What do you want, my Rauma?’

  ‘Sire, I saw in the past few years the work in your empire progressing everywhere. Roads, irrigation works, herbal gardens, the administration of the different provinces, intelligence-posts, courier-services. They need people who, inspired by your energy, will work for the realisation of what every right-thinking human being considers as a lofty vision. The wooden palaces and buildings in the capital fall under the sledgehammer of your time. Stonecutters, tile-makers, work for the reconstruction of luxurious, elegant buildings … Will there not be a place for a Vaishya who wishes to participate in your great plan?’

  Ashoka looked directly into the young priest’s eyes, which could not hide the restlessness of his soul.

  ‘And your fee?’

  ‘You determine that, O, Maharajah.’

  ‘My fee will never be of human beings, whose own will would oppose it.’

  Rauma’s eyes caught Sanghamitra who, with growing amazement and admiration, had been listening to the young priest. His glance made her feel shy. She cast down her eyes. Ashoka summoned Agnibrahma to come.

  Buoyantly, the young Prince entered, thinking he would only find his uncle.

  ‘Agnibrahma, meet your cousin-sister, my daughter Sanghamitra.’

  For one moment Agnibrahma stood perplexed. At the palace offices the two newcomers to the court had been actively discussed, the daughter of Shiva certainly would not have taken along beauty on her earthly journey. But this Princess seemed to possess the legendary beauty of the Rani of Vidisha! Slim and graceful, she rose from her seat, her fine glossy hair adorned with some soft whitish pearls in a silvery setting, contrasting even more its darkness around her regular, oval-shaped face, now blushing with a glow. And the clear intelligent eyes … all of it left Agnibrahma in confusion. He knelt down, kissed the hem of her robe. She reached her hand out to him, as though to lift him up. While exchanging looks with each other, a happy glance of joyous youth shone. Ashoka, to whom nothing escaped, went on:

  ‘And this is Rauma, the sacrificial priest, who wishes to make himself useful to the empire. For the time being I will place him under your guidance.’

  The two men appraised each other with cold glances and bowed.

  And while Ashoka, together with Sanghamitra, left for the army-camps on the elephant, Agnibrahma and Rauma started their work. The Prince was amazed at the thorough knowledge of the priest. He knew in detail the most important sects in Ashoka’s great empire, and was miraculously well informed about the situation, especially in the Punjab, the West and the South.

  ‘How do you know all these things that I could only find out with considerable effort, by serious study, and reports coming in slowly?’

  ‘Well, I have lived over there, travelled much and heard much, because everything interested me. My gurus were the most erudite, so that I came to know Brahmanism thoroughly and, slowly on, all the sects for which it is the foundation.’

  ‘And the rapidly expanding Shaivism in the western part of the country?’

  ‘Well, that certainly is not an offshoot of Brahmanism. I only know of one explanation: the great worship of the Maharajah, who, in those areas where he ruled as a Prince, was taken to be the embodiment of Shiva, the Mahadeva. An Aryan can revere a human being, but he can only worship the divine, the unfolding Atman, or that incarnation of which the great man is born. And so, in the west, one transfers the worshipping of Ashoka to Shiva, of whom they believe he is the embodiment. Ashoka will die, but Shiva remains alive and, unfortunately, it will depend not on him but on the priests how generations to come will perceive and serve him.’


  The close cooperation between the young men led to mutual appreciation and soon to deep friendship. In the early hours of dawn they often went horse-riding into the surrounding countryside and at night they strolled, mostly together, in the spacious parks of the palace.

  Once they met Sanghamitra there.

  ‘Have both the scholars found each other?’

  The friends looked at each other and laughed.

  ‘We have as yet not been thinking of that, high Princess, but our common labour proceeds smoothly,’ Rauma said.

  ‘We have only been waiting for each other, beautiful cousin-sister. What is the shade of a park without the cool water of the lotus-pond, against the fierce rays of Surya.’

  ‘So, not the lame and the blind!’ she said laughingly. ‘No, your imagery of shade and pond is more beautiful for two such vigorous men.’

  ‘I knew my work in theory, Rauma in practice.’

  ‘So, Father had a happy hand.’

  ‘His third eye gleams through everything, high Princess.’

  ‘I will not disturb you any longer. They are waiting for me in the anthapura.’

  ‘What a pity!’ they called out at the same time.

  ‘So, even here you are united,’ she laughed.

  Both of them watched her admiringly and then silently went on their way.

  ‘Kama has shot an arrow into your heart, my Prince.’

  ‘And he directed the same one in yours.’

  ‘I saw her first in Sanchi, with her mother. Her image pursued me for weeks. Then I travelled to Pataliputra, to reach for the highest … mahamatra for the Maharajah … What does it matter?’

  ‘Did you wish for the highest, to attain her or to forget her, my friend?’

  ‘To forget.’

  ‘The choice is hers. One of us.’

  A few days later Sanghamitra met Rauma, who was on his own in the park.

  ‘I see the cool water of the pond but where is the shadow?’

  Rauma flushed. ‘Does the high Princess long so much for the shelter of the shade-giving foliage?’

  ‘How seriously you take me, my Rauma!’

  ‘Your preference strikes me more than you may think.’

  ‘My preference should leave you cold. We hardly know each other yet.’

  ‘I often saw you in Vidisha and in Ujjain. Whoever sees you will not be able to forget you so easily.’

  ‘No?’ she asked shyly. ‘Why did you not come to the palace then?’

  ‘I was only a lesser purusha.’

  ‘Father says that you are very learned, could even become a mahamatra.’

  Rauma bowed deeply. ‘That is joyful to hear, but only because it is said by you, high Princess Sanghi. Joy is always connected to persons.’

  ‘But for a scholar surely not to a young, inexperienced Princess.’

  ‘Not what is learned, but what the Atman unfolds in us, is what counts.’

  ‘That is exactly what Agnibrahma said yesterday at the full-moon festival. I do not understand all that learning though.’

  ‘You love Agnibrahma!’

  ‘Yes. Like shade in the hot sunshine … and the pond.’

  ‘And what has your preference?’

  ‘None,’ she laughed.

  ‘Who looks for the coolness of the shade against the burning rays of the sun, does not look for it in the pond.’

  ‘The choice is too difficult for me, Rauma!’ And laughingly, she walked away towards the palace.

  One evening, after a hot day, she was walking in the park with Agnibrahma.

  ‘Tired from your work, Agnibrahma?’

  ‘More pleased with this beautiful evening. Even if I were to be tired, the Maharajah does not give us time to give in to it. His interest whips us on.’

  ‘Yes, yes, we know his maxim: Example is always better than precept. I have participated one day in the work of the Maharajah! At last, in the ministers-council, I fell asleep from fatigue. He then accompanied me to the anthapura.’

  They neared the pond. On the high bench at the rear of the boat, Ashoka and Asandhimitra were seated, allowing themselves to be rowed, gliding gently along, by the oarsmen. Rauma, who approached from the Brahmin-court, joined Agnibrahma and Sanghi.

  ‘Do you know that the Maharajah once experienced a great disappointment on this boat because of the beautiful Aradi, later Sumana’s wife?’ And Agnibrahma related what a commotion the ‘Wild Prince’ once provoked in his youth, amongst the distinguished daughters of Pataliputra, at the game of the Rani-choice.

  ‘Maybe, Aradi regrets her stand now! But it was just play.’

  ‘Well, beautiful cousin-sister, every woman that fortune allows to choose for herself, regrets her choice later on. And in every game, well played, lies the deep foundation of reality. Who loves the luxuriant style of a Sumana, does not appreciate the zealousness for work of an Ashoka.’

  ‘You men have an easy way of talking. After a wrong choice, you choose again.’

  ‘If one has a choice at all!’

  ‘Not so gloomy, Rauma; it is not a virtue to endure life when it fulfils all our wishes but when it turns against us.’

  The boat approached the bank.

  ‘Do you want to sail along?’

  ‘And play the game of the Rani-choice, my Father? If only no wild Prince shows up!’ Ashoka looked at Sanghi and smiled. Two young men and his daughter. Who?

  ‘Do you know the story of my shame?’

  ‘The Rani-choice is no shame for the loser.’

  ‘The Rani-choice was not for everyone pleasant, my child.’

  ‘Setbacks strengthen the human being, says the holy Kullika.’

  ‘The good human being! So, for the pleasure of my beloved daughter, we will play our game. Rauma will seat himself on the high bench at the back, Agnibrahma on the forward deck, we in the middle. Sanghi, you are the only bride. Or, shall we have more girls come?’

  ‘No, no! The others know the game! They would laugh at my stupidity.’

  ‘You start.’ Ashoka explained what she had to do.

  Sanghi went, diffidently, to Rauma. ‘What have you to offer me, Rauma?’

  ‘If the Maharajah wishes so and he believes in me, I will be mahamatra and you will live with me in a beautiful palace with towers and gold-embellished columns. The most beautiful halls will be for my Rani. With countless servants I will make life a dream for you.’

  ‘You promise too little, Rauma.’ She went to her cousin-brother.

  ‘And you, Agnibrahma? What do you have to offer, should I become your Rani?’

  ‘If the Maharajah wishes so and believes in me, I will be viceroy in Taxila. You will live in a cool palace, built of stone, reaching the sky; it will be so beautiful that the gods will envy you. You will have a hundred rooms and thousand servants to fulfil your every wish.’

  ‘You promise too much, Agnibrahma.’

  ‘Which choice would you advise me to make, highly revered Maharajah.’

  ‘I love my daughter so much, that she may make her own choice.’

  ‘And you, high Agramahisi?’

  ‘What they promise you is maya. With that you cannot be contented, Princess Sanghi.’

  ‘Rauma, your position, your palace, your halls, your servants are transitory, hence maya. Offer me something higher.’

  ‘Divine Princess, my love will uphold you and make your house a heavenly abode. Any wish of my Rani will be more to me than the wishes of the gods, your will more powerful than theirs. Only when I can conjure a smile of happiness on your face, will I be contented.’

  ‘You promise too much, Rauma.’

  ‘And you, Agnibrahma, if the Maharajah is not willing and does not believe in you? Your offer was not dependent on you. What more do you offer?’

  ‘My love will give you everything: rich clothing made from Kashi-muslin with gold-embroidered flowers and precious stones, and jewellery that will delight even a Rani, so that you will be the most beautiful of the women of the
empire.’

  ‘You determine the choice, revered Maharajah.’

  ‘The choice is so difficult, the happiness offered to you so precious, yet different, that I, out of concern for my daughter, dare not risk making the wrong choice.’

  ‘And you, beautiful Agramahisi?’

  ‘You are not able to make your choice yet, dear Sanghi, because they measure their love with earthly measures.’

  ‘So, your love is an earthly love, Rauma?’

  ‘High Princess, my love for you inspires me to strive for the highest, to do all that is good, a wish to work for the happiness that the Maharajah wishes to give to all his people. That is why it is of much more value than earthly maya.’

  Again, Sanghi went to her cousin-brother.

  ‘You wish to flatter my vanity, Agnibrahma. Is your love merely earthly?’

  ‘We human beings think in earthly values, beautiful Sanghi. And with you, one thinks only of the most precious of what the earth offers us. But my love is the highest that human feelings can reach: the pursuit of the most sublime, but the greatest sacrifice, too: myself. Together with you: the divine perfection of the human being, unity of endeavour of both … Without you … Yama.’