The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
grief, which the Self-existent gave me, when pleased with me. And
this necklace, which Indra gave me, is a present for yourself." When
the prince had said this, he gave her the crest-jewel from his head,
and he took the necklace from his neck, and put it on hers.
Then Manoháriká was delighted, and she bowed before him, and set out,
mounted on her bird, to find her friend Padmávatí. And Muktáphalaketu,
his languor having been removed by delight, quickly entered his own
city with Samyataka.
And Manoháriká, when she came into the presence of Padmávatí, told her
of the love-pain of her beloved, as she had witnessed it, and repeated
to her his speech, sweet and tender with affection, as she had heard
it; and told her of the arrangement to meet her in the hermitage of
Gaurí, which he had made, and then gave her the crest-jewel which he
had sent, and shewed her the chain which he had given herself as a
present. Then Padmávatí embraced and honoured that friend of hers who
had been so successful; and forgot that pain of the fire of love which
had tortured her before, and she fastened that crest-jewel on her head,
as if it were joy, and began to prepare to go to the wood of Gaurí.
In the meanwhile it happened that a hermit, of the name of Tapodhana,
came to that grove of Gaurí, with his pupil, named Dridhavrata. And
while there, the hermit said to his pupil Dridhavrata, "I will engage
in contemplation for a time in this heavenly garden. You must remain
at the gate, and not let any one in, and after I have finished my
contemplation, I will worship Párvatí." When the hermit had said this,
he placed that pupil at the gate of the garden, and began to engage
in contemplation under a párijáta-tree. After he rose up from his
contemplation, he went into the temple to worship Ambiká, but he did
not tell his pupil, who was at the gate of the garden.
And in the meanwhile Muktáphalaketu came there adorned, with Samyataka,
mounted on a heavenly camel. And as he was about to enter that
garden, that pupil of the hermit forbade him, saying, "Do not do
so! My spiritual superior is engaged in contemplation within." But
the prince, longing to see his beloved, said to himself, "The area
of this garden is extensive, and it is possible that she may have
arrived and may be somewhere within it, whereas the hermit is only
in one corner of it." So he got out of sight of that hermit's pupil,
and with his friend entered the garden by flying through the air.
And while he was looking about, the hermit's pupil came in to see
if his spiritual superior had completed his meditation. He could not
see his superior there, but he did see the noble Muktáphalaketu with
his friend, who had entered the garden by a way by which it was not
meant to be entered. Then that pupil of the hermit cursed the prince
in his anger, saying to him, "As you have interrupted the meditation
of my spiritual guide, and driven him away, go with your friend to the
world of men on account of this disrespect." After he had pronounced
this curse, he went in search of his superior. But Muktáphalaketu
was thrown into great despondency by this curse having fallen on
him like a thunderbolt, when his desire was on the point of being
fulfilled. And in the meanwhile, Padmávatí, eager to meet her beloved,
came mounted on a bird, with Manoháriká and her other attendants. And
when the prince saw that lady, who had come to meet him of her own
accord, but was now separated from him by a curse, he was reduced to
a painful frame of mind in which sorrow and joy were blended. And at
that very moment Padmávatí's right eye throbbed, boding evil fortune,
and her heart fluttered. Then the princess, seeing that her lover was
despondent, thought that he might be annoyed because she had not come
before he did, and approached him with an affectionate manner. Then
the prince said to her, "My beloved, our desire, though on the point
of fulfilment, has been again baffled by Fate." She said excitedly,
"Alas! how baffled?" And then the prince told her how the curse was
pronounced on him.
Then they all went, in their despondency, to entreat the hermit, who
was the spiritual guide of him who inflicted the curse, and was now
in the temple of the goddess, to fix an end to the curse. When the
great hermit, who possessed supernatural insight, saw them approach
in humble guise, he said with a kind manner to Muktáphalaketu,
"You have been cursed by this fool who acted rashly before he had
reflected; [705] however you have not done me any harm, since I rose
up of myself. And this curse can only be an instrument, not the real
reason of your change; in truth you have in your mortal condition
to do the gods a service. You shall come in the course of destiny
to behold this Padmávatí, and sick with love, you shall abandon your
mortal body, and be quickly released from your curse. And you shall
recover this lady of your life, wearing the same body that she wears
now; for being a deliverer of the universe, you do not deserve to
lie long under a curse. And the cause of all this that has befallen
you is the slight stain of unrighteousness which attaches to you,
on account of your having slain with that weapon of Brahmá, which
you employed, old men and children."
When Padmávatí heard this, she said, with tears in her eyes, to that
sage, "Holy Sir, let me now have the same lot as my future husband! I
shall not be able to live for a moment without him." When Padmávatí
made this request, the hermit said to her, "This cannot be: do you
remain here for the present engaged in asceticism, in order that he
may be quickly delivered from his curse, and may marry you. And then,
as the consort of that Muktáphalaketu, you shall rule the Vidyádharas
and Asuras for ten kalpas. And while you are performing asceticism,
this crest-jewel, which be gave you, shall protect you; for it is of
great efficacy, having sprung from the water-pot of the Disposer."
When the hermit, possessing divine insight, had said this to Padmávatí,
Muktáphalaketu, bending low, addressed this prayer to him, "Holy Sir,
may my faith in Siva be unwavering during my life as a man, and may my
mind never be inclined to any lady but Padmávatí." The hermit replied,
"So let it be!" and then Padmávatí, sorely grieved, pronounced on that
pupil, whose fault had entailed these misfortunes, the following curse,
"Since you cursed in your folly my destined husband, you shall be
a vehicle for him to ride on in his human condition, possessing the
property of going with a wish and changing your shape at will." When
the pupil had been thus cursed, he was despondent, and then the hermit
Tapodhana disappeared with him.
Then Muktáphalaketu said to Padmávatí, "I will now go to my city,
and see what will happen to me there." When Padmávatí heard this,
being terrified at separation, she at once fell on the earth with all
her ornaments, as a creeper, broken by the wind, falls with all its
flowers. And Muktáphalaketu comforted, as well as he could, his crying
love, and departed with his friend, frequently turning round his eyes
to look at her. And after he was gone, Padmávatí was much grieved,
and weeping, said to her friend Manoháriká, who tried to comfort her,
"My friend, I am certain that I saw the goddess Párvatí to-day in
a dream, and she was about to throw a garland of lotuses round my
neck, when she said, 'Never mind! I will give it you on some future
occasion,' and desisted from her intention. So I understand that she
wished in this way to let me know that my union with my beloved would
be hindered." When she was mourning in this way over what had occurred,
her friend said to her, "This dream was no doubt sent to you when you
say, by the goddess, in order to comfort you. And the hermit said
the very same to you, and the gods have clearly thus ordained: so,
be of good cheer, you will soon be reunited with your beloved."
This and other speeches from her friend, and the magic efficacy
of the crest-jewel made Padmávatí recover her self-command, and
she remained there in the hermitage of Gaurí. And she performed
asceticism, worshipping there Siva and Párvatí, three times a day,
and also the picture of her beloved, which she had brought from her
own city, looking upon it as the image of a divinity. Her parents,
hearing what had taken place, came to her in tears, and tried to
prevent her, saying, "Do not uselessly fatigue yourself with penance,
to bring about a desired end, which will anyhow take place." But
she said to them, "How could I live here with any comfort, now that
the husband recently appointed for me by the god has fallen into
misery owing to a curse? For to ladies of good family a husband is
a god. And no doubt, this calamity may soon be brought to an end by
austerities, and Siva may be propitiated, and then I may be reunited
with my beloved, for there is nothing [706] that austerities cannot
accomplish." When Padmávatí had said this with firm resolution,
her mother Kuvalayávalí said to her father the king, "King, let her
perform this severe asceticism! Why trouble her further on false
grounds? This is appointed for her by destiny: there is a reason for
it; listen. Long ago, in the city of Siva, the daughter of the king of
the Siddhas, named Devaprabhá, was performing a very severe penance,
in order to obtain the husband she desired. Now my daughter Padmávatí
had gone there with me to visit the shrine of the god, and she went up
to the Siddha maiden and laughed at her, saying, 'Are you not ashamed
to practise austerities in order to obtain a husband?' Then the Siddha
maiden cursed her in her rage, saying, 'Fool! your laughter proceeds
from childishness: you also shall perform painful austerities to your
heart's content to obtain a husband.' Accordingly she must of necessity
endure the misery which the curse of the Siddha maiden has entailed;
who can alter that? So let her do what she is doing?" When the queen
had said this to the king of the Gandharvas, he took leave at last,
though reluctantly, of his daughter, who bowed at his feet, and went
to his own city. And Padmávatí remained in that hermitage of Párvatí,
intent on religious observances and prayers, and every day she went
through the air and worshipped that Siddhísvara, that was worshipped
by Brahmá and the other gods, of which Siva had told her in a dream.
CHAPTER CXVIII.
While Padmávatí was engaged in asceticism, in order that she might be
reunited to Muktáphalaketu, the son of the emperor of the Vidyádharas,
that prince, feeling that his descent into the world of men was nigh
at hand owing to the curse of the Bráhman, in his fear, fled to Siva
as a refuge.
And while he was worshipping Siva, he heard a voice issue from the
inner cell of his temple, "Fear not, for thou shalt not have to
endure misery while dwelling in the womb, and thou shalt not have
to suffer during thy life as a mortal, nor shalt thou long remain
in that condition. [707] Thou shalt be born as a strong and valorous
prince. Thou shalt obtain from the hermit Tapodhana the control of all
weapons, and my Gana named Kinkara shall be thy younger brother. With
his help thou shalt conquer thy enemies, and accomplish the required
service for the gods, and thou shalt be reunited with Padmávatí and
rule the Vidyádharas." When that prince had heard this voice, he
conceived hope, and remained waiting for the ripening, so to speak,
of the fruit of the curse pronounced upon him.
At this point of my story there was a city in the eastern region
named Devasabha, that surpassed in splendour the court of the
gods. In it there lived a universal monarch named Merudhvaja, the
comrade of Indra when war arose between the gods and Asuras. That
great-hearted prince was greedy of glory, not of the goods of others;