by Sivadasa
‘Yes, you are indeed finicky about beds,’ observed the king.
Having related this tale, the genie said: ‘Tell me, O, king, of these three Brāhmaṇas, who was the most fastidious?’
‘The man who was sensitive of beds,’ answered King Vikramasena.
The genie fled as soon as he heard the king’s answer.
Thus ends the twenty-third tale in the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie set down by Śivadāsa.
TALE 24:
Of Strange and Riddling Relationships
I bow to the Lord of Ganas over whose elephant cheeks
a throng of honeybees hover drawn by drops of ichor.
I bow to the Lord of Wishes160 who grants
the fruits of our most cherished heart’s desire.
Once again the king went back to take the corpse from the śinśipā tree. Placing it across his shoulders he started walking when the corpse began its storytelling. The genie said, ‘Listen, O king, and I shall tell you a tale.’
There is a city named Prabhāvatī. A certain king named Pradyumna ruled there. His queen was named Prītikārī. They had a daughter named Āandraprabhā and she was marríed to Vijayabala, King of the South. Ćndraprabhā bore a daughter named Lāvaṇyavatiī.
Once, Vijayabala’s kinsmen came in the quiet of the night and laid siege to the city. The king woke up his queen and said, ‘My beloved, go out of the city with our daughter, while I do battle against the enemy. I shall return soon.’
Queen Ćandraprabhā hastily left the city with her daughter while the king, Vijayabala marched out to meet the enemy. A great battle was fought. King Vijayabala was killed.
The mother and daughter wandered on and soon reached a lake. They stopped there briefly to rest and at the crack of dawn they left the lake.
A certain king from Kusumapura arrived at that same lake with his son while hunting. The prince noticed the lines of beautiful footprints by the lake’s shore and pointed them out to the king: ‘Look, look, dear father. Some queen and her daughter appear to have been here and gone onwards.’
The king examined the footprints carefully and exclaimed: ‘Yes, my son; one has long feet and the other tiny feet. If we meet them, the lady with the longer feet shall become my queen; the other shall be your bride.’ The prince agreed. Having settled the matter, the king and his son rode on and soon caught up with the queen and princess. They questioned the two royal ladies. Out of fear, Queen Ćandraprabhâ told them everything not leaving out a single detail.
The king of Kusumapura exclaimed: ‘A piece of good fortune, indeed! For you belong to the same warrior class, Ksatriya, as ourselves.’
Though the truth of the matter was that the lady with the tiny feet was the mother and the one with the long feet was the daughter, the king declared: ‘My son, I am taking the lady with the long feet.’ As it has been said:
A woman can remain chaste, inviolate,
if the place is not secluded,
and the moment not opportune,
and no man is around desiring her.
Only then, O, Nârada!
The son now took hold of the lady with the tiny feet as his own. Placing the princess and the queen behind them on horseback the king of Kusumapura and his son rode back to their own kingdom. On reaching the palace Queen Ćandraprabhā and Princess Lāvanyavatī were sent to the Royal Apartment as members of the harem. In time both mother and daughter gave birth, one to a son and the other to a daughter. Later, when the children grew up, they were married to each other.
Having narrated this tale, the genie put a question to the king. ‘Tell me, O king,’ said the goblin, ‘what kind of relationship exists between these two?’
At this point, King Vikramasena made no reply.
Thus ends the twenty-fourth tale in the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie set down by Śivadāsa.
TALE 25:
The Epilogue and Conclusion
Seeing the king silent, the genie said: ‘O, king, listen; I know that I have tricked you many a time; and that is why you now remain silent. Hear me now, O, great hero! I am mightily pleased with your courage and daring. I shall grant you a boon; ask.’ Still King Vikramasena gave no reply.
The genie spoke again to Vikramasena. ‘O, king; though you do not care to give me an answer, I say to you that I am pleased with your truthfulness and daring. I tell you now what you should do next and you should do as I say. Now go to the burning grounds with the corpse as arranged with the necromancer, Kṣāntiśīla. The naked monk will take the corpse and worship it with incense and sandalwood paste and other articles of worship. Then he will say to you: “Listen, O king, fall flat on your face and prostrate yourself on the ground with the eight limbs of your body touching the ground.” Then, this is what you say to him in reply: “I do not know how to prostrate myself with the eight limbs of my body touching the ground. All who come before me prostrate themselves to do me homage. I have never prostrated myself before anyone. Teach me, O, Best of Ascetics! Show me first so that I learn to do it properly.”
‘When you say this to Kṣāntiśīla, he will at once show you how a proper and complete prostration is done. Then, immediately, draw your sword and sever his head at the neck. Offer his blood to me as an oblation. You shall gain the Eight Powers by this act. If you do not act as I tell you, you will be killed and the necromancer, Kṣāntiśīla will then gain the Eight Powers that he hankers after.’
Having said this the genie left.
King Vikramasena now carried the corpse to the burning grounds and set it down within the maṇḍala, the magic circle. The naked monk, Kṣāntiśīla, exclaimed delightedly: ‘Well done, truly well done, O, great hero. You have performed a mighty penance.’
Kṣāntiśīla performed all the prescribed rites. He placed flowers and incense and other articles of worship and arranged the oil lamps and vessels containing various oblations within the maṇḍala and uttering potent incantations invoked the genie. Having called upon the genie to descend into the consecrated space and having performed all the necessary rites and ceremonies, Kṣāntiśīla, the naked monk turned to King Vikramasena and said: ‘Now perform the complete prostration, O, king.’
The king recollected the instructions of the genie and said: ‘Listen, yogī; I have never in all my life performed a full and complete prostration before anyone, never, not from the hour of my birth. I do not therefore know how to perform one properly. You show me first how it is done and I shall do it.’
Deluded by fate, the naked monk prostrated himself fully on the ground. As he did so, King Vikramasena drew his sword and chopped off the monk’s head. He offered the blood flowing out of the skull as an oblation to the genie. Thus did King Vikramasena obtain the Eight Powers. And it is also said:
Pay a man back in his own coin;
do harm unto him who has done harm to you;
I see no harm in that;
adopt foul means towards an evil man.
Then, the Gandharvas in the World of Light rained showers of blossoms on earth. The moon raised exultant cries of victory to the king. All the celestials made this proclamation: ‘O, king, we are pleased. You shall possess the sovereignty of the whole earth. Ask for a boon.’
The king stated his wish. ‘Grant that this work, the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie may become celebrated and gain renown. By your grace may this Genie be my minister and carry out my edicts!’
Then, Brahmā-Visnu-Maheśvara, descended
on earth, the Holy Trinity manifest,
bestowed high praise on him, the Lord of Men,
reverently bowing at his feet.
The Glorious Effulgence declared thus:
‘A mighty lord, of my essence161 you are,
a ray of light from me, born here, on earth;
Vikramāditya, Sun of Valour,
a monarch greater than ancient monarchs
who held dominion over the earth.
Vikramasena too are you named,
jewel of the lin
eage of earthly rulers.
‘Enjoy the complete and continuing happiness and good fortune of the glory of the Vidyādharas.’162
Having obtained the benediction of Śiva, Foe of the Triple-City,163 Vikramasena became the ruler who turned the Wheel of Empire.164 Entering his capital he ruled with might and majesty, the possessor of Royal Glory.
Thus ends the twenty-fifth tale of the Five-and-Twenty Tales of the Genie set down by Śivadāsa.
Appendix Tales from The Five-and-Twenty Tales of
the Geniẹ
as set down by
Jambhaladatta
Benedictory Verses:
1. Willed by the play of those stave-like arms,
the unmoving mountains whirl in response,
as the Great Lord1 dances His Wild Dance2
marvellous:
the universe stands still wondering, awestruck
by those high-sounding tones, clamorous;
while the edges of the World-Snake’s3 thousand
expanded hoods
tremble beneath the burden of those stamping feet;
and the moon4 rides high at the forest’s fringes
of His matted locks, tawny as honey bees…
locks that twist and coil into garlands of lofty
waves.
May that dance bless you all with great good
fortune!
2. Having heard these tales of the goblin,
five-and-twenty,
filled with fine flavours,5 from Varadeva’s
lotus-mouth—
hė who was Minister for Peace and War6—
Jambhaladatta in reverence for his preceptor
has set them down in words few but fitting
in order that these tales so fabulous
would always live preserved in men’s memories.
Let all good folks hear them with keen interest!
3. Noble sirs! If to hear this tale you’re all eager,
the likes of which has ne’er been told before,
why then, gentlemen, read it as it’s written here.
PREAMBLE
Once, on this round earth, there ruled the glorious monarch, Vikramakesarī, Lion of Valour, supreme sovereign over kings; and he was celebrated as ‘the jewel among monarchs’.
Earrings set with many different gems with the splendour of their blended rays shed lustre on his cheeks. His whole body shone, adorned by ornaments of various kinds. Learned in many sciences, the monarch was endowed with the finest qualities as the ocean is filled with the finest gems.
Like Kubera, God of Treasures, this monarch had amassed an incredible hoard of gems of various sorts: sapphires and emeralds, diamonds and lapis lazuli; rubies, pearls, and many other precious stones.
In each hill and valley on earth, in every direction of space, his glory sounded, sung exultantly by Vidyādharīs7 skilled in music. Like Indra, Overlord of the Immortals, the monarch was blessed with the perfection of beauty of every limb and feature. Lord of the entire earth girdled by the four oceans, this mighty lord of men, surrounded by a host of vassal princes and by counsellors, passed his days in the enjoyment of that ineffable happiness that sovereignty brings.
Now, this is what happened. Every morning at daybreak, just as the glorious lord of heaven rose above the horizon wearing his garland of light-rays, at the very hour when the lord of the earth rose from his bed tó wash his face, a certain anchorite,8 named Kṣāntiśīla, sent through the chief royal bath-attendant, a marvellous bilva fruit9 of rare colour and sheen. And each morning, the attendant would offer this fruit ceremoniously. The monarch would accept it each time graciously, admire its exquisite beauty and hand it back to the attendant. And in this manner passed twelve whole years.
Then, once it happened that the bilva fruit as it was being offered to the emperor as usual, slipped and fell from his lotus-palm on to the courtyard floor where it broke into pieces. Five priceless gems came out of its broken heart and rolled around on the floor. Seeing these priceless gems, the king was transported with delight and exclaimed: ‘Ah! What a marvel indeed! In my whole collection of gems in which each gem has been sought for with great diligence and acquired, not a single one to compare with these gems in their rich and rare beauty is to be seen.’
The emperor was completely amazed as he looked at the gems rolling about on the floor; he now turned to the attendant and remarked: ‘Listen! Water-carrier! Each morning you hand me one of these gorgeous fruits. Tell me; where do you find them?’
And the attendant answered: ‘My lord, a skull-bearing anchorite, named Kṣāntiśīla, places one of these bilva fruits each morning in my hands wishing to gratify you.’
The king paused a moment; then he ordered the man: ‘Go; bring all the other bilva fruits that you have brought me in the past for so many years.’
The water-bearer bowed and went out and soon returned with every one of the bilva fruits that had been kept in the royal store. The emperor had every one of these fruits broken open and looked at the heap of gems that rolled out. And he said over and over again: ‘Ha! In my treasury of priceless gems not a single one can compare with these.’ Then the emperor commanded: ‘I wish to see the person who gives me these fruits, now, immediately.’
The attendant murmuring, ‘As His Majesty commands,’ ran to the outer gate and returned with the anchorite. He announced: ‘Your Majesty; here is the skull-bearing anchorite who brings the bilva fruits; he waits at the door.’
‘Usher him in,’ commanded the emperor.
No sooner had the anchorite been ushered into the royal presence and seen the emperor than he thrilled with such fierce joy that the hairs on his body stood up stiffly, covering him as if with a coat of mail. Lifting his right hand straight up, he called down blessings galore on the emperor.
‘Oh! Skull-bearer! Why have you been presenting me with these fabulous gems all this time under the pretext of offering simple bilva fruit? Noble soul! What is it that you want of me; tell me,’ said the emperor addressing the anchorite.
‘Listen, great king,’ replied the anchorite. ‘If Your Majesty be favourably inclined towards a stranger, then hear what I have to say in private, in secrecy.’
One glance from the emperor served to make his retainers and attendants withdraw to a distance; after which the anchorite spoke: ‘I am Kṣāntiśīla, the skull-bearer, and a great magic-worker. This entire earth have I circled sunwise, searching for a person, very special, to assist me in certain magical rites done with a corpse; a person pure and virtuous, and highly accomplished. But I found him nowhere. Only when I arrived here did I see such a person, magnanimous and blessed with all imaginable virtues. If you pay heed to my words, then I shall disclose my cherished desire.’
‘Speak freely,’ said the emperor. ‘Tell me what you desire and I shall make it come to pass.’
At these words of the emperor, the skull-bearer began: ‘My lord, I ask for your assistance in rites to be performed using a genie that inhabits a corpse. If Your Majesty assents to my request, then I shall attain great powers; otherwise not.’
When the high-souled monarch heard this, he became determined to accede to the request made by the anchorite. Whereupon the anchorite again spoke to the king: ‘If Your Majesty agrees to be my assistant in the rites, then I shall be able to gain the eight Siddhis,10 or magic powers. To do this, I shall station myself in the burning grounds that lie south of the city, on the fourteenth day of the dark half of the month of Bhadrã.11 Pray come to me at sunset on that day, at the burning grounds, unseen by anyone, Your Majesty. I shall explain my cherished wish to you the moment you come, for at that time, my purpose will bear fruit.’
The king, having listened attentively to the anchorite, gave his assent. ‘So be it,’ he said. ‘Go your way and prepare to carry out your purpose. I shall meet you at that spot and make your wish come true.’
The king dismissed the anchorite with these words, and Kṣāntiśīla returned to his own place.
Co
me the month of Bhadrã, the anchorite arrived at the palace gates on the fourteenth day of the dark half of the month and sent word through an attendant to remind the king. King Vikramakesarī offered due worship to gods and ancestors and having transacted all the daily duties of administration, set out at dusk alone, unseen by a single soul, and armed only with his trusty sword. He came to the burning grounds to the south of the city where the anchorite was waiting for him and said: ‘Here I am, O Skull-bearer; now disclose your wishes.’
Seeing the king there, the anchorite’s eyes widened with great joy and he greeted the monarch with words of high praise.
‘O, great monarch, you are indeed the best of men; a man of supreme virtue and courage in that you who are an emperor have come to me here in this place of cremation, alone, with only your sword for companion; and that too on this night, the darkest night of the month of Bhadrā, despite the deep and terrifying darkness. Your life here on this earth has achieved fulfilment.’
To these words, the emperor replied with becoming modesty: ‘Be that as it may, O Skull-bearer! Tell me what it is that you desire so ardently. I have come fired by curiosity; what have I to be afraid of?’