The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
a Bráhman came up to him, and taking him aside, said to him, "Your
mother the queen Manoramá, and the chaplain Yajuhsvámin, and Sumati,
the minister of your father, send you the following advice at this
juncture. "You know, [257] dear boy, how the king is always affected
towards you, and he is especially angry with you at present, now that
this misfortune has happened. So if you feel disposed to save your
own life, and to preserve glory, and justice inviolate, if you have
any regard for the future, if you consider us well disposed towards
you; leave this place unobserved this very evening, as soon as the
sun has set, and make for the palace of your maternal grandfather,
and may good fortune attend you. This is the message they gave me for
you, and they sent you this casket full of precious jewels and gold;
receive it from my hand." When the wise Bhímabhata heard this message,
he accepted it, saying, "I consent to act thus," and he took that
casket of gold and valuable jewels. And he gave him an appropriate
message to take back, and then dismissed him, and mounted that
horse, sword in hand. And Sankhadatta took some gold and jewels,
and mounted another horse. And then prince Bhímabhata set out with
him, and after he had gone a long distance, he reached at dead of
night a great thicket of reeds that lay in his way. As he and his
companion pursued their course through it without stopping, a couple
of lions, roused by the noise, which the reeds made when trampled by
the horses' hoofs, rushed out roaring, with their cubs, and began to
rip up the bellies of the horses with their claws. And immediately
the hero and his companion cut off the limbs of the lions with their
swords, and killed them. Then he got down with his friend to look at
the state of the two horses, but as their entrails were torn out,
they immediately fell down dead. When Bhímabhata saw that, he felt
despondent, and he said to Sankhadatta, "Friend, by a great effort
we have escaped from our hostile relatives. Tell me, where, even by
a hundred efforts, shall we find an escape from Fate, who has now
smitten us even here, not allowing us even to retain our horses. The
very horse, for which I abandoned my native land, is dead; so how can
we travel on foot through this forest at night?" When he said this,
his friend Sankhadatta answered him, "It is no new thing for hostile
Fate to conquer courage. This is its nature, but it is conquered by
firm endurance. What can Fate do against a firm unshaken man, any
more than the wind against a mountain? So come, let us mount upon the
horse of endurance and so plod on here." When Sankhadatta said this,
Bhímabhata set out with him. Then they slowly crossed that thicket,
wounding their feet with the canes, and at last the night came
to an end. And the sun, the lamp of the world, arose, dispelling
the darkness of night, and the lotus-flowers in the lotus-clumps,
by the side of their path, with their expanding cups and the sweet
murmur of their bees, seemed to be looking at one another and saying,
"It is a happy thing that this Bhímabhata has crossed this thicket
full of lions and other dangerous animals." So travelling on, he at
last reached with his friend the sandy shore of the Ganges, dotted
with the huts of hermits. There he drank its sweet waters, which
seemed to be impregnated with the nectar of the moon, from dwelling
on the head of Siva, and he bathed in them, and felt refreshed. And he
ate, by way of sustenance, some venison, which they had bought from a
hunter whom they happened to meet, and which Sankhadatta brought to him
roasted. And seeing that the Ganges was full and difficult to cross,
for with its waves uplifted like hands it seemed again and again to
warn him back, he proceeded to roam along the bank of the river. And
there he saw a young Bráhman in the court of an out-of-the-way hut,
engaged in the study of the Vedas. So he went up to him and said,
"Who are you, and what are you doing in this solitary place?" Then
the young Bráhman answered him:
"I am Nílakantha, the son of a Bráhman named Sríkantha, who lived
at Váránasí, and after all the ceremonies had been performed for me,
and I had learnt knowledge in the family of my spiritual preceptor,
I returned home and found all my relations dead. That left me helpless
and poor, and as I was not in a position to carry on the duties of
a householder, I became despondent, and repaired to this place, and
had recourse to severe asceticism. Then the goddess Gangá gave me some
fruits in a dream, and said to me, 'Remain here living on these fruits,
until you obtain your desire.' Then I woke up and went and bathed,
and when the morning came, I found in the water some fruits, that had
been washed here by the stream of the Ganges. I brought those fruits,
delicious as nectar, into my hut, and ate them there, and so I remain
here engaged in asceticism, receiving these fruits day by day."
When he said this, Bhímabhata said to Sankhadatta, "I will give
this virtuous youth enough wealth to enable him to enter the
householder-state." Sankhadatta approved his speech; whereupon the
prince gave the Bráhman the wealth that his mother gave him. For
what is the use of the greatness of great ones, who have abundant
courage and wealth, if they do not put a stop to the sufferings of
their neighbour as soon as they hear of them?
And after he had made the fortune of the Bráhman, Bhímabhata searched
in every direction for some means of crossing the Ganges, but could
not find any. Then he tied his ornaments and sword on his head,
and plunged in with Sankhadatta to swim across it.
And in the middle of the river the current carried his friend to a
distance from him, and he himself was swept away by the waves, and
reached the bank with difficulty. When he reached the other side,
he could not see his friend Sankhadatta, and while he was looking
for him along the bank, the sun set. Then he began to despair,
and he exclaimed in bitter grief, "Alas my friend!" and it being
now the beginning of the night, he prepared to drown himself in
the waters of the Ganges. He said, "Goddess Jáhnaví, you have taken
from me my life in the form of my friend, so now receive also this
empty vessel of my body," and he was on the point of plunging in,
when Gangá appeared to him from the middle of the flood. And pleased
with his violent agitation she said to him then and there, "Do not
act rashly, my son! your friend is alive, and in a short time you
shall be reunited with him. Now receive from me this charm called,
'Forwards and Backwards.' If a man repeats it forwards, he will
become invisible to his neighbour, but if he repeats it backwards,
he will assume whatever shape he desires. [258] Such is the force
of this charm only seven syllables long, and by its help you shall
become a king on this earth." When the goddess Gangá had said this,
and given him the charm, she disappeared from his eyes, and he gave
up the idea of suicide, now that he had got a hope of regaining
his friend and of other successes. And being anxious to regain his
friend, he passed the night in impatience, like the lotus-flower,
and the next morning he set out in search of him.
Then, as he was travelling about in search of Sankhadatta, he one
day reached alone the district of Láta, where, though the colours of
the castes are not mixed, the people lead a diversified and richly
coloured life, which though a seat of fine arts, is not reputed a home
of crimes. [259] In this city he wandered about, looking at the temples
and the dwelling-houses, and at last he reached a hall of gamblers. He
entered it and saw a number of fraudulent dice-players, who though
they were clothed in a loin-rag only, shewed by their handsome,
well-shaped, stout limbs, which indicated good living and plenty
of exercise, that they were men of rank though they concealed it,
and that they had resorted to that occupation for the sake of making
money. They began to talk to him, so he sat down to play with them,
and they fancied that they would make a fine thing out of him and
his ornaments. Then he beat them at the dice-play, and won from the
rogues all the wealth which they had acquired by cheating others.
Then those gamblers, having lost their wealth, were preparing to go
home, when Bhímabhata set his arms against the door and stopped them,
and said to them, "Where are you going? Take back this wealth; I do
not want it. I must give it away to my friends, and are not you my
friends? Where can I find [260] such dear friends as you?" When he
said this, and they declined to take the money out of shame, a gambler
there, of the name of Akshakshapanaka, said, "Undoubtedly it is the
definition of gambling that what is won is not returned, but if this
gentleman becomes our friend, and gives us of his own accord wealth
which he has fairly won, why should we not take it?" The others,
when they heard this, exclaimed, "It is fitting, if he makes such
an eternal friendship with us." When they said this, he came to the
conclusion that they were men of spirit, and he at once consented to
swear eternal friendship to them, and gave them back their wealth. And
at their request he went into a garden with them and their families,
and refreshed himself with food, and wine, and other luxuries,
supplied by them. Then, at the request of Akshakshapanaka and the
others, he told his name, race, and history, and asked them also for
theirs. Then Akshakshapanaka told him the story of his life.
Story of Akshakshapanaka.
There lived in Hastinápura a Bráhman named Sivadatta, a very rich man,
and I am his son, and my real name is Vasudatta. And in my youth I
learnt skill in arms as well as in the Vedas. Then my father made me
marry a wife from a family equal in rank to my own. But my mother was a
great scold, implacable, and very passionate. And she worried my father
so intolerably, that as soon as he saw me married, he left his home,
and went away somewhere where he could not be traced. When I saw that,
I was afraid, and I earnestly enjoined on my wife to study carefully
my mother's disposition, and she, being terrified, did so. But my
mother was bent on quarrelling, and it was impossible for my wife to
please her in any way. The ill-natured woman interpreted her silence as
contempt, her plaintive lamentation as hypocrisy, and her attempts at
explanation as wrangling. For who can deprive the fire of its tendency
to burn? Then her disagreeable behaviour in a short time worried my
wife also so much, that she left the house and fled I know not where.
Then I was so despondent that I made up my mind to abandon family
life, but my wretched relations assembled together and forced me to
take another wife. That second wife of mine also was so worried by
my mother, that she committed suicide by hanging herself. Then I was
exceedingly vexed, and I determined to go to a foreign country. And
when my relations tried to prevent me, I told them of the wickedness
of my mother. They assigned another reason for my father's leaving the
country, and would not believe my story; so I adopted the following
artifice. I had a wooden doll made, and pretended to marry it privately
as a third wife, and I brought it and placed it in another secluded
house which I locked up. And I made another female puppet to guard her,
dressed like a servant. And I said to my mother, "I have put this wife
of mine in a separate house. So you and I must for the present remain
apart from her in our own house; you must not go there and she must
not come here. For she is timid as yet, and does not know how to win
your affection." To this arrangement my mother gave her consent.
After some days had elapsed, my mother, finding that she could not
manage anyhow to get at that supposed daughter-in-law of hers,