The Five and Twenty Tales of the Genie (Penguin Classics)

by Sivadasa

  is the highest path a woman can take.

  Women who follow any other way

  go straight to the infernal regions.’

  After hearing his mother’s words, the son spoke up: ‘If by my being slayed the king will be assured of a life of hundred years, what are we waiting for?

  ‘Were the mother to feed her son poison,

  or the father to sell him for gold,

  the king takes all,

  so why bemoan one’s fate?’

  For her part the daughter also expressed what ought to be. All four, having reflected well, proceeded to the shrine of their tutelary deity. The king well-concealed thought to himself:

  ‘Each mind shapes its own thoughts, its own feelings;

  whatever is going to be brings its own means as well.’

  Viravara stood before the Great Goddess, offered due worship, seized his sword and with the words: ‘O, glorious goddess! By this sacrifice of my son, may the king live to be a hundred,’ struck off his son’s head and let it drop on the floor. Seeing her brother lying dead, his daughter drew her dagger and plunged it into her belly; and the mother killed herself. Viravara looked down: his family was gone. He reflected thus: ‘All of them, all three are gone forever. What reason is there for me to serve the king for a thousand gold pieces a day?’ He then drew his dagger and severing his own head, let it fall on the floor.

  The king, having witnessed the deaths of all four of them, thought to himself: ‘For my sake this whole family has been destroyed. What use is my kingdom to me now?

  ‘In a kingdom there is great unhappiness

  caused by anxieties over peace and war;

  where fear of even one’s own son is present,

  what happiness can empire hold?’

  KingŚūdraka drew his dagger and was on the point of severing his own head when the goddess spoke: ‘My son,Śūdraka! I am pleased with your daring; ask for a boon.’

  ‘Glorious Goddess! If you are pleased with me, pray grant that all these persons lying dead be restored to life,’ pleaded the king.

  ‘Be it so,’ said the goddess.

  The four dead persons were then restored to life by means of the Elixir of Life brought from the underworld.

  Still unnoticed, the king returned to his palace. Viravara went home with his family.

  Next morning, at dawn the king was in the Hall of Audience; and Viravara appeared there once again. The king asked him: ‘Hey there, Vīravara, did you go out last night and investigate the reason for that woman’s weeping?’

  Viravara repeated this verse in reply:

  ‘By virtuous acts79 does a man find

  a master, generous and forgiving,

  who appreciates the merits of another.

  A retainer upright and accomplished,

  who protects his king at all costs

  is hard to find, my lord.’

  King Śūdraka gave half his kingdom to Viravara. As the well-known saying goes:

  Kings speak once; sages speak once;

  maidens are bespoke once;

  these three are spoken once only.

  Having related this tale, the genie put a question to the king. ‘Tell me, O, king, of all these characters whom would you regard the most noble?’

  ‘Why, the king, of course, he is the noblest of them,’ answered King Vikramāditya.

  ‘And why is that?’ queried the genie.

  ‘Servants give their lives for their masters; masters do not give their lives up for their servants. Because the king held his kingdom as a thing worth less than a bit of straw, and was prepared to give up his life, he is the noblest of them all.’

  The genie got his answer and went back to the Śinśipā tree to hang there once again.

  Thus ends the fourth tale in Śivadāsa’s Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie.

  TALE 5:

  Of the Beautiful Mahādevī and Her Three Suitors

  I bow to Pārvatī’s son, awesome god,

  Leader of the Ganas,80 Dispeller of Fear,

  pot-bellied, pendulous-lipped, elephant-eared.

  Once again the king took down the corpse from the branch of the śinsipś tree and laying it across his shoulders proceeded on his way to his destination, when the corpse began his storytelling. The genie said: ‘Listen, O, king, I shall tell you a story.’

  There is a famous city known as Ujjayinī81 where King Mahābala ruled. His minister for peace and war, Haridāsa had a daughter, Mahādevi, who was very beautiful. She had reached the age of marriage. The father spent anxious days wondering how to find the best bridegroom for his daughter. And Mahādevi came up to him and said: ‘Dear father, please marry me only to a man who is well-endowed with fine qualities.’

  It happened that about that time, Haridāsa, the minister for peace and war was sent on a mission to the court of the sovereign of the southern lands.82 He reached the capital and was granted an audience by the sovereign of the southern lands. The emperor said to him: ‘Listen, Haridāsa, give me some description of the Kali Age.83 And Haridāsa said:

  ‘The present time is the Age of Kali:

  men of truth are hard to find,

  countries by excessive taxes are wasted,

  kings are given over to grasping greed;

  Gangs of robbers roam plundering the earth,

  fathers fear to trust their own sons:

  Alas! It is an evil age.

  ‘Passion for cruelty, proficiency in untruth,

  dishonouring the virtuous, miscarriage of justice,

  indulging in rude behaviour,

  dishonesty even in revered preceptors;

  graceful and charming talk to your face,

  censure and calumny behind your back;

  in these many ways are manifested

  the powers of the great King of the Kali Age.

  ‘The Law languishes in exile,

  penances totter and fail,

  Truth flees far, far away.

  Earth’s abundance is on the wane.

  Kings are crafty and crooked,

  Brāhmanas seized by lust and greed,

  men are absorbed in dalliance with women,

  while women are flighty and fickle;

  texts sacred and secular float and drift

  in different directions, in opposing contrarieties.

  The good man is despondent

  while doers of evil rise and flourish.

  Such is the state of the world.

  when Kali enters the stage.’

  And there in the capital of the southern empire, Haridāsa was met by a Brāhmana who requested him thus: ‘Pray, give your daughter in marriage to me.’

  Haridāsa replied: ‘Sir, I shall marry my daughter only to a man who possesses pre-eminent qualities.’

  ‘Ah well; I possess inestimable qualities,’ replied the suitor.

  ‘Show me; give me proof,’ remarked Haridāsa.

  The suitor then displayed a chariot that he had made with his own hands, and said: ‘Listen, this chariot travels in the sky and takes you to any place that you think of.’

  ‘Oh, well then; come to me tomorrow morning with your chariot,’ said Haridāsa.

  The suitor went next morning in his chariot to Haridāsa as directed. Both of them then mounted the chariot and reached the city of Ujjayini.

  In Ujjayini itself, a certain Brāhmana came to see Haridāsa’s son and pressed his suit for Mahādevï. ‘Give me your sister in marriage,’ he said.

  ‘Sir, my sister shall be given in marriage to a man fully blessed with excellent qualities, not to just anyone,’ replied the brother.

  ‘I am versed in the arts of magic,’ remarked the suitor.

  ‘Well then, I shall give my sister in marriage to you,’ said the brother.

  Some time later, a certain other Brāhmana went to see the mother and he requested the lady: ‘Pray give your daughter to me in marriage.’

  The mother provided the same answer. ‘She shall be given in marriage to a man fu
lly blessed with fine qualities; to no one else.’

  ‘I am an expert archer who can shoot and hit any object by the mere sound even if the object is not within sight,’ said the suitor.

  ‘In that case, my daughter is yours,’ replied the mother.

  And thus, all three suitors were assembled in Haridāsa’s residence and now they discovered that the girl had. been promised to each one of them. All three were disconsolate, thinking: ‘This is indeed some situation! Three suitors and one bride! How will this be sorted out?’

  That very night, that girl of incomparable loveliness was carried away by some ogre to the Vindhya mountains.

  Sītā,84 exceedingly lovely

  was by Rāvana85 abducted

  from excessive pride;

  from excessive magnamity

  Bali86 was bound into captivity:

  excess invariably brings ruin in its wake.

  In the morning the three suitors met at Haridāsa’s house. The magic worker among them was asked a question. ‘O, scholar in the magic arts, can you ascertain correctly what has happened to the maiden?’

  He picked up a piece of chalk and did certain calculations. Then he said: ‘An ogre has carried her off to the Vindhya mountains.’

  The second suitor who was an archer who hit his target following the sound, spoke up: ‘I shall kill that ogre and bring the maiden back.’

  The third suitor now offered his chariot: ‘Take my chariot, friend, and fly in it to save her.’

  The archer mounted the chariot and flew off to the Vindhya mountains where he shot and slew the ogre and brought the maiden back safely.

  The three suitors now began arguing hotly as to who should have her as his bride. The father was plunged into anxious thought: ‘All three have been of help in her rescue; whom shall I give my daughter to in marriage? Whom can I reject?’

  Having told this tale, the genie asked the king: ‘O, king, tell me: of these three suitors, whose bride should the maiden be?’

  ‘His, naturally, who slew the ogre,’ replied King Vikramasena.

  The genie demurred: ‘But…. listen, all three suitors were equally well suited to be her bridegroom. Why do you pick the archer as the best bridegroom for the girl?’

  The king answered the question thus: ‘The other two men, the one versed in magic and the other in practical science were merely tools, helpers for the archer; how well it is said:

  ‘Even the gods are wary of a man

  in whom these six virtues are found:

  firm resolve, daring and courage,

  strength, intelligence and heroic valour.’

  Having gained the answer to his question, the genie got away and hung once more on a branch of theśinśipā tree,

  Thus ends the fifth tale in the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie, set down by Śivadàsa.

  TALE 6:

  Of the Young Bride Who Switched Heads

  I bow to the God of Wrath, Ganeśa,

  who bears a form awe-inspiring,

  most majestic; Destroyer of fears,

  Kindler of terror, Bestower of bliss.

  Once again, King Vikramāditya took the corpse down from the śinśipā tree and slinging it across his shoulders started on his journey back. And as he proceeded, the corpse began its storytelling. The genie said: ‘Listen, great king: I shall tell you a story.’

  There is a city by the name of Dharmapurī its king was named Dharmaśīla. He built a shrine to the goddess Ćandikā87 and in front of the shrine a quadrangle and in its middle, a sacred pool. Daily the king offered due worship to the goddess before he touched a morsel of food. His minister said to him: ‘Your Majesty, listen to what I have to say:

  Empty is the house where there is no son,

  empty are the directions of space

  unpeopled by kinsmen;

  empty is the mind of the ignorant;

  and to the poverty-stricken,

  the whole world is one vast emptiness.’

  The king heeded the words of his minister and began to chant the praises of the goddess:

  ‘Hail, hail to Thee, Luminous One!

  Ruler over Luminous Beings!

  Adored by Brahmā, Viṣṇu and Indra!88

  Gracious mother born of Śiva’s body!

  Hail to Thee! Source of Fortune and Prosperity!

  Victory to Thee, O, goddess sublime!

  Who is worshipped with blood-sacrifices!

  Who joyfully accepts sacrifices!

  Who wears the form of Time!

  Who is wrathful as Time!

  Dark Night! I bow to Thee.

  Mounted upon a throne held up

  by those noble who are now dead,

  You are the very manifestation

  ofŚiva’s awesome aspect;

  Mantled in skins, adorned with skulls,

  fierce goddess, four-faced89 I bow humbly to Thee.

  Goddess whose legs are straight and long

  as lofty palmyra-trees!

  whose stupendous frame is stripped of flesh!

  Devourer of flesh!

  With hair streaming upwards

  and eyes like blazing meteors,

  goddess, patient, forgiving, I bow to Thee.’

  The goddess was propitiated with such chants of adoration. And she spoke: ‘O, best of monarchs, I am pleased with you. Ask for a boon; anything your heart desires.’

  ‘If you are pleased, grant me the blessing of a fine and virtuous son,’ said the king.

  The goddess declared:

  ‘You shall be blessed indeed, O, king,

  with a son of great might and heroic valour.

  Worship in my shrine with an oblation,

  with flowers, incense and sandal salve,

  with fine silk cloths and gold as best as you can.’

  Thus spoke the goddess; and these things the king faithfully performed. A son was born to him. All the people came to have their ritual bath in the sacred pool and worship the goddess. And the goddess granted each one of them the wish they cherished in their hearts.

  One day, a young prince from some neighbouring kingdom came to Dharmapurī with his friend to worship at the shrine of the goddess. As the prince sat there after duly worshipping the goddess, his eyes fell upon an uncommonly beautiful maiden, the daughter of one of the princes of the blood royal. He fell passionately in love; his mind was in a turmoil and he prayed to the goddess:

  ‘Luminous One! Glorious deity! If I can only win this maiden as my bride, I shall offer worship to you with my head as oblation.’

  Having sworn a sacred oath to this effect, the young prince returned to his own city, where he passed that whole day in torment. His friend went to the king and acquainted him with the condition of his son. The king then went straightaway to the city of Dharmapurī to the lovely maiden’s father and asked for her hand in marriage to his son. The father consented and the young prince came to Dharmapurī. The marriage was celebrated; the bridal couple returned home.

  Several days after the wedding, the young prince set out for Dharmapurī, accompanied by his bride and his friend, to visit his father-in-law. On the way, he came upon the shrine of the goddess. He said to his wife: ‘My darling, stay right here for a brief while with my friend while I go inside the shrine and pray to the goddess.’ He left her there and went inside. Taking his dagger out of his belt, he severed his head and dropped it on the floor before the goddess.

  After a few minutes, the friend said: ‘He has been gone a while; it is time for him to return; let me go in and check.’

  As soon as he entered the shrine, the friend saw the prince there, lying dead. And at once he thought to himself: ‘If I should now turn and go back I shall be accused by the world of killing the prince to get his wife.’ Troubled, he severed his own head then and there.

  The young bride waited; she wondered anxiously: ‘Where have these two gone?’ She entered the shrine and what did she see but two headless bodies. She was quick to arrive at her decision. ‘Well, let me
also die.’

  She made a noose with one end of her upper garment and was about to kill herself when the goddess spoke:

  ‘Daughter, no, do not commit a rash deed. I am pleased with your courage. Ask for a boon.’

  ‘Glorious lady!’ pleaded the young bride, ‘If you are truly pleased with me, grant that these two men may live again.’

  ‘Daughter, join the heads to the bodies, quickly,’ ordered the goddess.

  Hearing the divine words, the bride was in a flurry of excitement and joined her husband’s head to the friend’s trunk and placed the friend’s head on her husband’s shoulders. Both men stood up, alive and well, and started an argument over her.

  Having related this tale, the genie said: ‘Tell me, O king, whose wife is the lady now?’

  ’King Vikramasena replied:

  ‘Of all medicines, food is the best;

  of all liquids to drink, water is the best;

  of all objects to enjoyment,

  woman is pre-eminent

  of all the body-parts,

  the head is pre-eminent.’

  The genie heard the king’s answer and bolted, back to the śinśipā tree, to hang from its branches.

  Thus ends the sixth tale in the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie set down by Śivadāsa.

  TALE 7:

  Of the Beautiful Tribhuvanasundarī, Beauty of the Triple World and Her Suitors