The Five and Twenty Tales of the Genie (Penguin Classics)
Page 19
The genie said: ‘Listen, O, king, while I tell you a tale.’
There is a city named Kankolam where King Sundara ruled. In that city lived the merchant prince Dhanaksaya whose daughter was Dhanavatī. She was married to one Gaurīdatta, a rich merchant and resident of the city of Alakā. After some time, she gave birth to a daughter named Mohinī. As soon as the child was born, the father died. The dead man’s kinsfolk deprived Dhanavatī of all her husband’s wealth and possessions right in the presence of the king, giving as reason the fact that she had no son to inherit the wealth. Dhanavatī had perforce to leave the city with her little daughter. She departed at midnight and on account of the pitch darkness she could not see her way. And she found herself in the burning grounds. There, in the burning grounds was a robber impaled on a pike. As Dhanavatī went up to him the robber, who was in extreme agony, addressed these verses to her:
‘No one allots man his share of grief or joy;
How mistaken to think someone does;
O, body! You reap the fruit of deeds past!
You taste happiness, or, pay for the wrongs you did!
What is unplanned Fate brings to pass;
What is well-planned Fate undermines;
Fate alone puts in place those things
never thought of or even dreamed of by men.
The land, the place, the day, even the moment
where it has to happen, and how,
there, in that manner and no other
are the bonds of death inevitably tied.
Where death awaits, where sorrow waits,
where good fortune is, or imprisonment,
to that precise spot goes a man,
of his own will, urged by his own actions.’
Dhanavatī spoke to the man: ‘Sir, who are you?’
‘I am a robber, and here I am impaled on a pike; three days have gone by, but life has not left me as yet,’ answered the man.
‘Why is that?’ asked Dhanavatī.
‘I remain unmarried; if someone gives me his daughter in marriage, I shall reward him with one lakh of gold coins.’
‘Done,’ said Dhanavatī. ‘I give you my daughter in marriage, O robber. But how can you beget a son?’
And the robber said in reply: ‘Listen, when this wife of mine reaches womanhood, purchase the seed of some man for gold and let him beget a son on her. An excellent Brāhmana youth will be led in the future to your presence, wherever you are. Give him gold, he shall beget a son on your daughter.’
Having said that, the robber was married to Dhanavatī’s daughter by the Gandharva rites.135
‘Lady, to the east is a banyan tree; as its base lies hidden one lakh of gold coins; take that,’ said the robber to Dhanavatī. With these last words, the robber breathed his last.
Dhanavatī took the hoard of gold coins and returned to her own city of Kankolam. There she had built a splendid, white stucco mansion for herself. As the days passed, her daughter, Mohinī, grew up and entered womanhood.
Once, Mohinī, in the first flush of youth, stood on the terrace of her mansion watching the king’s highway. A certain Brāhmana youth was passing by and seeing him, Mohinī fell instantly in love with him. She turned to her companion and said: ‘Dear friend, go, meet this young man and take him to my mother.’
Her friend went down, spoke to the young man, brought him in and ushered him into the presence of Mohinī’s mother.
The mother, Dhanavatī, spoke gently to the young man: ‘Listen, young Brāhmana; my daughter is nubile. If you beget a son on her, I shall give you one hundred and one gold coins.’
‘I shall do so,’ agreed the Brāhmana youth.
After his acceptance of Dhanavatī’s offer, the young man was given a splendid feast that evening. He was offered paan and supari,136 rubbed with fine creams, perfumed with liquid sandalwood paste and led to the bedchamber. He embraced Mohinī in love.
In the morning, Mohinī’s companions plied her with questions. ‘Tell us, tell us, dear friend, how did you and your beloved make love last night?’
And Mohinī responded with these lines:
‘My sweet love on the couch beside me—
my waistband came unfastened on its own—
the jewelled belt unclasping—the lower garment
no longer secure sliding down somewhat— to rest on my hips:—this much I know—
then, my friends—his limbs melting into me—
Ah! Lost, under love’s enchantment—
Who is he? Who am I? And this?—
Is this love’s ecstasy?—Or what—?
I have no memory of anything.
‘Brave, decorous as well, generous,
witty and polished in speech; free from guile,
kind and considerate in love; zealous
in safeguarding the honour of women:
can lovely young women ever forget
such a man? No, not even in succeeding lives.’
Mohinī conceived that same night, and at full term gave birth to a son. On the sixth day she had a dream at night; she saw a figure:
Matted hair twisted, coiled high on the head,
and diademed with the crescent moon;
limbs dusted with ashes from funeral pyres;
wearing the white sacred thread and a garland of skulls,
the waistband a twining white serpent;
seated on a white lotus; armed with a sword
and club with skull-shaped knob;
the trident in the right hand—
joined to the hind parts of a beast, the figure
appeared like World-Destroying Fire.
Such was the appearance of the ascetic she saw in her dream. In the morning she went to her mother and said: ‘Dear mother, this was the dream I saw,’ and described it.
The mother remarked: ‘Dear daughter, your son will be a sovereign. Now, follow my instructions: place your son in a basket, together with one thousand, and one gold coins and have him left at the palace gates.’
Mohinī had her baby son left at the palace gates in a basket together with one thousand and one gold coins.
The previous night the king had also been visited by a dream; he saw an ascetic:
Ten-armed, five-faced, copper-eyed,
exceedingly fierce in appearance,
with terrible tusks; triple-eyed, moon-crested;
and this ascetic addressed the king: ‘O, king, at your palace gate a basket has been left with a little boy in it. This boy will be your heir and succeed as sovereign after you.’
The king was awakened by this dream. He confided it to his queen. And she advised him thus: ‘My lord, send the lady who guards the inner apartments outside to the main gate, to see.’
The king sent for the doorkeeper and ordered her to check the palace gates. And when she went out and looked around, there at the gates was a basket with a little baby boy in it. The doorkeeper picked up the basket and brought it into the royal presence. The king turned over the coverlet and saw the baby and the thousand and one gold coins.
At dawn, the king sent for the experts skilled in judging signs and auspicious marks and showed them the child. The experts examined the baby with care and then exclaimed: ‘Your Majesty, this little boy has all the thirty-two marks of excellence on his person.’
‘What are these marks of excellence?’ asked the king.
‘The following’ they replied.
‘Broad in three respects, deep in three as well,
elevated in six and short in four,
glowing a healthy red in seven,
long and fine in five:
‘It is a mark of excellence in men if the navel, voice and vital breath are deep,
and the thighs, forehead and face are broad;
if chest and shoulders, finger and toe nails
nose, chin and throat are raised and prominent.
It augurs well if the neck, back and shanks,
and the male member are short and shapely;
; feet and hands, the corners of the eyes,
palate, tongue, lower lip, nails, having a rich red hue
undoubtedly ensure health and happiness;
persons in whom fingers and joints of fingers and toes,
hair, skin, teeth, are fine, will be free from misery.
A well-defined jaw and nose, expansive eyes,
long arms and well-defined space between the breasts,
these five marks of excellence are to be found
only in rulers of the earth.’
The king listened carefully to the considered opinions of the experts. He then removed a string of pearls from his neck and put it round the child’s neck, and handed him to the Queen Consort. The queen placed the child on her lap and sat next to the king, on his left.
Following this, the citizens came with gifts and paid homage to the royal family. The king accepted the gifts of his people and then held a great celebration. The naming ceremony of the little prince was celebrated. He was given the name of Haridatta. By the time he was sixteen years of age, the prince had studied all the sacred and secular texts and had become accomplished in all the arts.
In the course of time the king passed away and Prince Haridatta was installed king.
One day, a thought flashed across the young king’s mind: ‘Of what use is my being born as a son when I have not worshipped at sacred Gayā and offered oblations to my parents and forefathers!’ So he decided to journey to holy Gayī. There, he began the prescribed course of ceremonies done for ancestors. His guru spoke to him thus:
‘The person whose heart melts with compassion
for all living things, gains wisdom
and Final Release as well. Of what use
are matted hair, ashes and tattered garments?
‘A man might hold a trident in his hand,
or shave his head;
he might dwell in a cave, or on rocks,
or under a tree;
he might read the ancient texts
or glean the essence of the Vedas;
but if his heart is impure, what use are these?
‘Charitable works, worship of the gods,
severe penances as well,
listening to revealed truths: unprofitable
are all such pursuits to one whose heart is not pure.
‘Any act performed without faith
or without worship;
any act done only for outward show,
turns out fruitless;
the ancestors do not attend.
The divine is not to be found in wood,
or in stone, or in clay;
the divine exists in the mind and the heart;
the mind and heart are its place of birth.’
The young king listened attentively to the words of the learned Brāhmanas and uttering the name of his father, offered the prescribed oblations with his own hand. Three hands now appeared to accept the oblations. Haridatta then looked around perplexed and exclaimed: ‘Into which hand should I place the oblations?’
Having narrated this tale, the genie asked the king: ‘Tell me, O king; which of these three hands has the right to accept the oblations?’
‘The right to accept the oblations belongs to the hand of the robber,’ replied King Vikramasena.
The genie however demurred; it said: ‘Listen, the young Brāhmana gave birth to Haridatta with his own seed; the king brought the child up. How is it that they are not entitled to the oblations?’
‘Ah!’ replied King Vikramasena. ‘Listen, the Brāhmana’s seed was bought with gold; the king was also given gold before he undertook to care for the child. The child was borne by the legally wedded wife of the robber; therefore he is to be regarded as the legal father and consequently the one with the right to the oblations offered to ancestors.’
Once the genie had the king’s answer to its question it darted back to the same spot, to hang from a branch of the śinśipā tree.
Thus ends the eighteenth tale in the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie set down by śivadāsa.
TALE 19:
Of the Brāhmana Boy Who Laughed Facing Death
At the commencement of studies,
in disputes and in battle,
when hemmed in by enemies,
on entering a new dwelling,
by meditating on Vināyaka,
Remover of Obstacles, with heart-felt devotion,
no harm will come to any enterprise:
thus spoke the Supreme Goddess.
Once again the king returned to the same spot. He took the corpse down from the śinśipā tree and slung it over his shoulders. And as he set out on his way back to the burning grounds to meet Kṣāntiśīla, the necromancer, the corpse began its storytelling. The genie spoke: ‘Listen, O king, I shall tell you this tale.’
There is a fair city named Ćitrakūtam, where King Rūpasena ruled. Once he went hunting. He went ahead of his army and soon lost sight of it. At noon, the king was fatigued; he chanced upon a lake. Dismounting, he led his horse to the shade of a tree to let it rest. He himself sat down in the shade to rest for a few moments. Then, he looked around and there, right at that spot, his eyes fell on the daughter of a sage, a maiden of exceeding beauty, who was engaged in gathering flowers. It was love at first sight and the king was overwhelmed by passion for the maiden. Having gathered flowers the maiden started to leave when the king addressed her thus: ‘What strange behaviour on the part of Your Ladyship! Here I am, an unbidden guest137 at your hermitage! Pray offer me due hospitality before you go, Your Ladyship; for:
‘A man even of a lower class, who comes
to the home of one of the highest class
should be received with honour as prescribed.
All guests should be duly welcomed.’
Their eyes met. At that moment the great sage, father of the maiden, seeing what was happening, came there. The king, noticing the great sage, rich in penances, bowed with reverence. The sage pronounced his benedictions.
Then, that most excellent of sages addressed the king: ‘How is it that you have come to this region all by yourself?’ he asked.
‘My fondness for the chase has brought me here,’ answered the king.
The sage exclaimed: ‘O, king, what makes you resort to such a heinous crime? Why? The truth of the matter is this:
‘One man might be guilty of wrongdoing,
but the whole populace reaps the consequence;
they suffer the evil fruits, but are free of blame;
the guilt clings to the perpetrator alone.’
The king said: ‘Reverend Master, be pleased to instruct me in the ways of right and wrong.’
And that most excellent of sages instructed the king.
‘Deer live in the woods; they eat grass;
they drink waters unbelonging, unowned;even so, they are slaughtered by humans: who is to appeal to the world’s conscience!
‘Of all the many gifts that might be made,
this alone is the highest, the best;
to let all living things live free from fear;138
no other gift surpasses this.
‘One and the same sacrificial rite entails
an entire host of expensive gifts;
one person fearful of producing fear, ensures
the safety of life of living creatures.
‘What penance equals patience!
What happiness like contentment!
What gift equals the gift of learning!
What moral imperative greater than compassion!
‘Mindful of the dictates of righteousness,
any guilty person ought to be spared
who folds his hands in utter wretchedness
and falls at your feet.
‘Any one seeking sanctuary at the feet of others
from distress, or from fear should be protected
even at the cost of their own lives,
by men of disciplined mind and spirit.
‘Not the gift of cows, not
the grant of land;
not even the gift of food; these are not the best of gifts;
the gift beyond all gifts, as it is said,
is in this world the gift of sanctuary.
‘The man who is just and pious,
who has conquered pride and anger,who does not flaunt his learning,
who does not cause pain to others,
who is content with his own wife
and does not covet another’s,
such a man has no fear in this world.
‘Those who forsake their masters encircled by foes
and brought to a stand still in the thick of battle,
are men of evil conduct who without a doubt
go straight to the Bottomless Pit.139
‘Those who hit a foe knowing him unarmed,
with hair dishevelled, garments in disarray,
are men of evil conduct who without doubt
go straight to the Bottomless Pit.
‘Those who violate their preceptor’s wife,
or their master’s, or the wife of a friend,
are men lacking discernment who without doubt
go straight to the Bottomless Pit.
‘He who fails to safeguard his kingdom
from harassment of robbers, and instead
uses his power to chastise those disciplined