Mahabharata

by Carole Satyamurti

  Bhishma said, “Acting scrupulously

  in line with ritual and moral precepts

  is always right, and leads to happiness.

  But happiness is not the highest goal,

  and a person who seeks it for itself,

  gripped by craving, will find themselves in hell

  tortured by suffering, a burning sense

  of separation from the eternal One.

  Only by true indifference to results

  can action lead to liberation—union

  with the divine, the inexpressible,

  the being with no attributes, neither

  male, female, nor neuter, neither existent

  nor non-existent, beyond categories.

  It is akin to the dark side of the moon—

  we know it exists, though we are unable

  to perceive it with our mortal senses.

  “The path of understanding is austere.

  It is the apprehension of the soul

  by the soul itself. Devoted study

  leads to great learning, but learning alone

  will not reveal Brahman. Just as we may wait

  for the moon to emerge from its shroud of mist

  to light us on our way, so, patiently,

  we wait for the One to manifest itself.

  Only then can we come to experience

  our own being as part of the divine.

  “For this, we should detach ourselves from sorrow

  and from every sensual impression.

  We should not yearn for what is transitory

  as a child runs here and there after a toy.

  We should not say, ‘Why me?’ at our misfortunes,

  but see that sorrow knocks at every door.

  Cultivating true understanding,

  we move beyond sensory experience,

  beyond distinctions, beyond attributes,

  even beyond language, into the radiance

  of a clearer, more far-sighted vision.

  In this way, our soul becomes prepared

  to recognize that it has always been

  continuous with the eternal Self.

  The clouds disperse. We see. Only illusion

  has kept our true nature hidden from us.

  Those who are obsessed by earthly things

  will never understand reality.”

  “Grandfather, please tell me more of Vishnu,

  the uncreated Creator of all that is.”

  “Vishnu is the highest of all beings,”

  said Bhishma. “He created the elements

  and the earth, and then he laid himself

  floating on the surface of the waters.

  He made consciousness, which infuses

  all created things. And as he lay

  on the waters, a most beautiful lotus

  grew from his navel and gave birth to Brahma.

  From the surrounding darkness, there then sprang

  Madhu, a demon, bent on killing Brahma.

  Brahma called on Vishnu to protect him

  and instantly, Vishnu destroyed the demon;

  that is why he is called Madhusudana,

  ‘Slayer of Madhu,’ among his many names.

  “Vishnu then created day and night,

  the seasons, and all temperaments of weather.

  In Brahma’s line, sons were born, and daughters,

  and from them came animals and demons

  and gods, to populate the three worlds.

  Next he created the four human orders.

  From his mouth, he created brahmins;

  from his arms, kshatriyas; from his thighs,

  he made vaishyas; and, lastly, from his feet

  he brought lowly shudras into being.

  He appointed gods to be responsible

  for diverse aspects of the heavens and earth

  and to guard the cardinal directions.

  He made Brahma lord of created beings.

  He appointed Yama ruler of the dead;

  Kubera was lord of treasures; Varuna,

  lord of the waters and of aquatic creatures.

  “At first, there was no fear of death—people

  lived as long as they chose. There was no sex.

  Children were conceived by touch alone.

  Only in a later age did people

  feel the need to marry and live in pairs.

  And only later, too, did warfare start.”

  “Tell me how Lord Vishnu saved the world

  the first time, by taking animal form.”

  “This is how it was told to me,” said Bhishma,

  “in the hermitage of Markandeya:

  “

  MANY YEARS AGO, the earth was overrun by demons. They had become very powerful and arrogant and, rather than being content with their earthly riches, they cast their eyes up to heaven, and were envious of the prosperity of the gods.

  “The other inhabitants of the earth, minor deities and their offspring, were oppressed and grief-stricken, and came to Brahma in great distress. He reassured them. ‘The fate of those wretches has already been decided. They do not know that the invincible Vishnu has assumed the form of a boar, and is out to destroy them for their pride and wickedness.’ The petitioners were overjoyed.

  “As Brahma had said, Vishnu, in the form of Varaha, burst into the place under the ground where the demons had congregated. Astonished, the foolish demons tried to fight the animal, seizing it and trying to drag it down. But however hard they tried, and whatever weapons they used, the boar remained unharmed. At this they became afraid. Then the boar started to give voice to roars so loud and terrifying that they resounded over the entire earth and through the heavens as well. The demons fell to the ground, unconscious, and the boar pierced them with its hooves, tearing the fat and flesh from their bones.

  “At the tremendous sound, the gods ran to Brahma in confusion. He told them the world had been put to rights again by the great Vishnu—Creator, all-destroying Time, Ordainer, Upholder of the world. And he told them that, from time to time, when the earth was oppressed, Vishnu would incarnate himself, in order that balance and order could be restored. And so it happens that, in our day, he has taken birth as Krishna, for the good of all humanity.”

  This account was so wonderful, the listeners

  were moved to tears, and gave heartfelt thanks

  that they were living at this historic moment

  when Vishnu walked among them on the earth.

  The story was familiar but, somehow,

  in the telling, it became news again.

  “What are the faults a person should avoid,”

  asked Yudhishthira, “if they hope for freedom?”

  “Avoid those qualities that are born of passion

  and darkness,” warned the patriarch, “such as greed,

  lust, anger, cruelty, procrastination,

  laziness and self-indulgence. The person

  whose soul is purified by austerity

  will see these tendencies for what they are.

  But those caught in illusion will meet sorrow.

  “From the very moment we inhabit

  a body, in the womb, sorrow begins.

  We all have to be born from a woman’s womb,

  defiled by blood, phlegm, urine and excreta

  which give rise to evil tendencies.

  Women are primal substance; men are souls.

  Wise men should keep well away from women;

  they are the eternal embodiment

  of the senses, and give rise to trouble.

  Leading the fascinated mind to follow

  as a child chases a dazzling butterfly,

  they draw a man from his spiritual path.

  A student at the start of life, practicing

  celibacy, should avoid all contact,

  even the most mundane, with any woman.

  If semen spurts out of him as he dreams,

  he should immerse himself up to the chin

/>   in water, and remain there for three days.

  If this fails, he should abandon sleep,

  that forest of illusory delights,

  and use the long hours of the night for study.

  “Later, because the man desires a woman,

  children arrive who undermine his quest

  for wisdom. ‘These are my children,’ he will say.

  But they no more belong to him than vermin

  born on his body; he should shake them off

  as he would fleas and mites. The man of wisdom

  should avoid becoming attached to them.

  He will find the practice of yoga useful

  in harnessing the restless, possessive mind.”

  So said Bhishma, lifelong celibate.

  And if Yudhishthira gave any thought

  to Draupadi, sitting among the listeners,

  and wondered what she felt, we will never know.

  “A clear mind is the way to liberation.

  Even compassion, since it is prone to lead

  to attachment, will hold a person back

  by focusing attention on particulars.

  One cannot know the universal soul

  if worldly concerns clutter up the mind

  with material issues and distinctions.”

  Day after day Bhishma shared his wisdom.

  There seemed to be no end to the king’s questions.

  He asked how happiness could be achieved,

  how fear could be avoided. What penances

  were most appropriate; and whether people

  really were the authors of their actions.

  “On this last point,” said Bhishma, “there is a tale

  of the visit Indra paid to Prahlada:

  “

  PRAHLADA, CHIEF of demons, had fallen on hard times, defeated by the gods, his enemies. Indra came to visit him, intending to gloat over his vanquished opponent, expecting to find him crushed and humiliated. But far from being cast down, the demon was living in tranquillity, seated in an empty room, meditating, observing stringent vows, and indifferent equally to praise and blame. A clod of earth and a heap of gold were just the same to him. He wished for nothing and avoided nothing.

  “‘How is it,’ asked Indra, ‘that you are apparently so unaffected by the misfortunes that have come your way? You have lost everything, and yet you seem happy and serene.’

  “Prahlada smiled. ‘It is because I understand that every event, every entity, comes into existence and then ceases to exist in accordance with its own nature. No personal effort is required to bring this about; it is simply what happens. I have been defeated; in time, you will meet the same fate. Time is the agent. Most people do not see it that way. They struggle to achieve a goal and, because they regard themselves as the doer of acts, they suffer torment when their actions fail to produce the desired results. They may blame themselves for not trying hard enough, or for not having acted cleverly. But they are the person nature has made them, and they act accordingly. A person engages in activity, of course, and the soul is the silent witness. It is foolishness for a person to feel proud of their talents, or to feel ashamed of their shortcomings. Even final release arises from nature, not from human effort by itself. Understanding this, I am incapable of grieving.’

  “‘How did you arrive at this understanding?’ asked Indra.

  “‘I observe how nature works,’ said Prahlada, ‘how everything rises and falls. I pass my time very happily. I am obedient to my teachers and I listen to those who are old and wise. Watching the play of phenomena as they appear and disappear, I am without craving or hope, without affection or aversion, without fear or anger. I do not yearn for this world or the next.’

  “Indra was profoundly impressed, and went thoughtfully back to his own domain.”

  “Grandfather, is dharma meant for this world,

  or the next?” asked Yudhishthira.

  “It is meant for both worlds,” answered Bhishma.

  “Observance of the rules of dharma leads

  to happiness in this world and beyond.

  Each class should follow its own dharma.

  Vaishyas should labor to create wealth;

  kshatriyas should fight to protect it; brahmins

  should spend the wealth appropriately; and shudras

  should do the work that sustains the others.

  “Everyone honors dharma—including those

  who do not follow it. Even the thief

  who wickedly robs others will appeal

  to the king to enforce the rules of dharma

  when he himself is robbed of his possessions.”

  “Is it possible,” asked Yudhishthira,

  “for a man to attain liberation

  while still living as a householder?

  Can a reigning king achieve moksha?”

  In reply, Bhishma told him the story

  of Janaka and the yogi Sulabha:

  “

  MANY YEARS AGO, there lived King Janaka, who claimed to have attained a state of liberation while still remaining ruler of his kingdom. He was greatly revered, and his fame spread far and wide.

  “A female ascetic, Sulabha, heard the story of his achievement, and wanted to find out for herself whether it was true. Through her yogic power, she took on the disguise of a beautiful woman, and presented herself at the king’s court.

  “Janaka, struck by her beauty, welcomed her and offered her lavish hospitality. ‘Who are you, and to whom do you belong?’ he asked her. As they sat, in the midst of an assembly of learned men whom Janaka had gathered around him, Sulabha opened up the topic of liberation, asking the king to tell her if he was, indeed, enlightened. She gazed into Janaka’s eyes, her yogic powers enabling her spirit to enter his, and there ensued a conversation between them, both occupying the same body.

  “Janaka told Sulabha what he had learned about enlightenment. ‘My guru, Panchashikha, stayed with me for four months during the rainy season, and I was able to learn from him all I needed to know. As a result, I have reached a state of equanimity. I regard all things as having equal value. I am free of attachment—I neither love my wife nor hate my enemies. I have learned that, by following the path of knowledge, it is possible to arrive at an exalted spiritual state. It is said that a king cannot achieve liberation; for that, one should renounce all earthly ties. But I have shown the contrary.

  “‘Of course, I have to wield the rod of authority and distinguish between the law-abiding and the delinquent. But mendicant renouncers, too, reward and chastise people as they see fit. And many mendicants, while showing all the outward trappings of renunciation, have by no means achieved a state of non-attachment, as I have. My circumstances are affluent, I have great wealth, but liberation does not depend on whether one is rich or poor; it depends on knowledge.

  “‘Madam, I have taken a liking to you. But I have to say that I regard it as very deceitful of you to enter my body with a view to testing me. It is also contrary to dharma. You are a brahmin woman, I am a kshatriya. By entering my body you have mixed the social orders in an inappropriate manner. Perhaps you have a husband somewhere? If so, you have committed the additional sin of adultery. You are living the life of a renouncer; I am a householder. So by entering me you have committed a third sin: the mingling of differing modes of life. It may even be that we belong to the same line of descent, in which case you have committed the further sin of incest! It seems to me that you must have an evil nature—otherwise, you would not be roaming around the country by yourself. And you would not be attempting to prove yourself the superior of a man. I suspect you wish to show your superiority to my whole court, and humiliate these learned men. But now that I have assured you that I have achieved liberation, you should tell me who you are, what is your background, and what is your purpose in coming here.’

  “Sulabha replied, ‘Being made of ever-shifting particles, the human being changes constantly, as the liberated person knows. By asking me who I am, and
whose, you show that you are still mired in the illusion of distinct identity, seeing the world in terms of dualities. If you were truly liberated, you would see that there is no difference between me and others, or between me and you. The self is neither male nor female. If you were truly liberated, I could not have wronged you by entering your body with my mind.

  “‘You speak of “having” great wealth. A liberated person does not speak of “me” and “mine.” Of course, a king must worry about wealth, and must defend his kingdom. He has to live in a world of dualities. That is why he cannot attain enlightenment so long as he remains a king.

  “‘As for your gross accusations—I have not touched you with any part of my body. How, then, could I be guilty of mixing social orders? My soul, which has entered you, is the same as your soul. What have I done, then? You have insulted me by uttering your crude accusations in front of the whole court. In fact, I am a kshatriya like you, a descendant of a royal sage. No suitable husband could be found for me, so I have devoted myself to the study of liberation, and am firm and steady in my vows. I came here in a spirit of inquiry. Tonight, I shall stay inside you, as if you were my chamber—an empty chamber, since I find that it is devoid of understanding. Tomorrow, I shall leave your court.’

  “King Janaka was silent, lost for a suitable reply.”

  “Which deity above all other gods

  should one worship to obtain release?”

  asked Yudhishthira. “The Lord Narayana,”

  Bhishma replied. “Listen to this story:

  “

  ONCE, IN the Krita age, the seer Narada was addressing the divine seer Narayana, who was engaged in performing austerities. ‘Since you are yourself the uncreated creator,’ said Narada, ‘whom do you worship as divine?’ Narayana replied that he worshiped the indestructible origin of all, the universal Self which infuses all beings.

  “Then Narada, desiring to see the highest lord with his own eyes, traveled to the White Island, where those devoted to Lord Narayana, the supreme being, live in an exalted state, beyond the senses, motionless, pale and spectral as the moon. Narada performed extended acts of devotion, knowing that only those people may see Lord Narayana who have been devoted to him with their whole being, for a great length of time. He had practiced the most severe austerities, but not everyone who had done so, and who had traveled to the White Island hoping to see the lord, was blessed with that supreme vision.