The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
go to my own house with my friend, in order that the marriage might
be solemnized in due form. Then that fair one summoned by a sign
of her own that lion, on which she rode, and said to me, "Mount it,
my husband," then I, by the advice of my friend, mounted the lion,
and taking that beloved one in my arms, I set out thence for my home,
having obtained all my objects, riding on the lion with my beloved,
guided by that friend. And living on the flesh of the deer that he
killed with his arrows, we all reached in course of time the city of
Vallabhí. Then the people, seeing me coming along with my beloved,
riding on a lion, being astonished, ran and told that fact quickly
to my father. He too came to meet me in his joy, and when he saw
me dismount from the lion and fall at his feet, he welcomed me with
astonishment.
And when he saw that incomparable beauty adore his feet, and
perceived that she was a fit wife for me, he could not contain
himself for joy. So he entered the house, and after asking us about
the circumstances, he made a great feast, praising the friendship of
the Savara chieftain. And the next day, by the appointment of the
astrologers, I married that excellent maiden, and all my friends
and relations assembled to witness our wedding. And that lion, on
which my wife had ridden, having witnessed the marriage, suddenly
before the eyes of all, assumed the form of a man. Then all the
by-standers were bewildered thinking--"What can this mean?" But he,
assuming heavenly garments and ornaments, thus addressed me: "I am a
Vidyádhara named Chitrángada, and this maiden is my daughter Manovatí
by name, dearer to me than life. I used to wander continually through
the forest with her in my arms, and one day I reached the Ganges,
on the banks of which are many ascetic groves. And as I was going
along in the middle of the river, for fear of disturbing the ascetics,
my garland by accident fell into its waters. Then the hermit Nárada,
who was under the water, suddenly rose up, and angry because the
garland had fallen upon his back, cursed me in the following words:
'On account of this insolence, depart, wicked one, thou shalt become a
lion, and repairing to the Himálaya, shalt carry this daughter upon thy
back. And when thy daughter shall be taken in marriage by a mortal,
then after witnessing the ceremony, thou shalt be freed from this
curse.' After being cursed in these words by the hermit, I became a
lion, and dwelt on the Himálaya carrying about this daughter of mine,
who is devoted to the worship of Siva. And you know well the sequel of
the story, how by the exertions of the Savara chieftain this highly
auspicious event has been brought about. So I shall now depart;
good luck to you all! I have now reached the termination of that
curse." Having said this, that Vidyádhara immediately flew up into
the sky. Then my father, overwhelmed with astonishment at the marvel,
delighted at the eligible connection, and finding that his friends
and relations were overjoyed, made a great feast. And there was not
a single person who did not say with astonishment, reflecting again
and again on that noble behaviour of the Savara chieftain--"Who can
imagine the actions of sincere friends, who are not even satisfied
when they have bestowed on their sworn brothers the gift of life?" The
king of the land too, hearing of that occurrence, was exceedingly
pleased with the affection which the Savara prince had shown me,
and finding he was pleased, my father gave him a present of jewels,
and so induced him immediately to bestow on the Savara a vast forest
territory. Then I remained there in happiness, considering myself
to have attained all that heart could wish, in having Manovatí for a
wife, and the Savara prince for a friend. And that Savara chieftain
generally lived in my house, finding that he took less pleasure in
dwelling in his own country than he formerly did. And the time of
us two friends, of him and me, was spent in continually conferring
benefits upon one another without our ever being satisfied. And not
long after I had a son born to me by Manovatí, who seemed like the
heart-joy of the whole family in external visible form; and being
called Hiranyadatta he gradually grew up, and after having been duly
instructed, he was married. Then my father having witnessed that,
and considering that the object of his life had been accomplished,
being old, went to the Ganges with his wife to leave the body. Then I
was afflicted by my father's death, but having been at last persuaded
by my relations to control my feelings, I consented to uphold the
burden of the family. And at that time on the one hand the sight of
the beautiful face of Manovatí, and on the other the society of the
Savara prince delighted me. Accordingly those days of mine passed,
joyous from the goodness of my son, charming from the excellence of
my wife, happy from the society of my friend.
Then, in course of time, I became well-stricken in years, and old age
seized me by the chin, as it were out of love giving me this wholesome
reproach--"Why are you remaining in the house so long as this, my
son?" Then disgust with the world was suddenly produced in my breast,
and longing for the forest I appointed my son in my stead. And with my
wife I went to the mountain of Kálinjara, together with the king of
the Savaras, who abandoned his kingdom out of love to me. And when I
arrived there, I at once remembered that I had been a Vidyádhara in a
former state of existence, and that the curse I had received from Siva
had come to an end. And I immediately told my wife Manovatí of that,
and my friend the king of the Savaras, as I was desirous of leaving
this mortal body. I said--"May I have this wife and this friend in a
future birth, and may I remember this birth," and then I meditated
on Siva in my heart, and flung myself from that hill side, and so
suddenly quitted the body together with that wife and friend. And so
I have been now born, as you see, in this Vidyádhara family, under
the name of Jímútaváhana, with a power of recollecting my former
existence. And you, that prince of the Savaras, have been also born
again by the favour of Siva, as Mitrávasu the son of Visvávasu the
king of the Siddhas. And, my friend, that Vidyádhara lady, my wife
Manovatí, has been again born as your sister Malayavatí by name. So
your sister is my former wife, and you were my friend in a former
state of existence, therefore it is quite proper that I should marry
her. But first go and tell this to my parents, for if the matter is
referred to them, your desire will be successfully accomplished.
When Mitrávasu heard this from Jímútaváhana, he was pleased, and
he went and told all that to the parents of Jímútaváhana. And when
they received his proposal gladly, he was pleased, and went and
told that same matter to his own parents. And they were delighted
at the accomplishment of their desire, and so the prince quickly
prepared for the marriage of his sister. Then Jímútaváhana, honoured
by the king of the Siddhas, received according to usage the hand of
Malayavatí. And there was a great festival, in which the heavenly
minstrels bustled about, the dense crowd of the Siddhas assembled,
and which was enlivened by bounding Vidyádharas. Then Jímútaváhana was
married, and remained on that Malaya mountain with his wife in very
great prosperity. And once on a time he went with his brother-in-law
Mitrávasu to behold the woods on the shore of the sea. And there he
saw a young man come in an agitated state, sending away his mother,
who kept exclaiming "Alas! my son!" And another man, who seemed to be
a soldier, following him, conducted him to a broad and high slab of
rock and left him there. Jímútaváhana said to him: "Who are you? What
are you about to do, and why does your mother weep for you?" Then
the man told him his story.
"Long ago Kadrú and Vinatá, the two wives of Kasyapa, had a dispute
in the course of a conversation which they were carrying on. The
former said that the Sun's horses were black, the latter that they
were white, and they made an agreement that the one that was wrong
should become a slave to the other. [345] Then Kadrú, bent on winning,
actually induced her sons, the snakes, to defile the horses of the
Sun by spitting venom over them; and shewing them to Vinatá in that
condition, she conquered her by a trick and made her her slave:
terrible is the spite of women against each other! When Garuda the
son of Vinatá heard of that, he came and tried to induce Kadrú by
fair means to release Vinatá from her slavery; then the snakes, the
sons of Kadrú, reflecting, said this to him; 'O Garuda, the gods have
began to churn the sea of milk, bring the nectar thence and give it
to us as a substitute, and then take your mother away with you, for
you are the chief of heroes.' When Garuda heard that, he went to the
sea of milk, and displayed his great might in order to obtain the
nectar. Then the god Vishnu pleased with his might deigned to say
to him, 'I am pleased with thee, choose some boon.' Then Garuda,
angry because his mother was made a slave, asked as a boon from
Vishnu--'May the snakes become my food.' Vishnu consented, and when
Garuda had obtained the nectar by his own valour, he was thus addressed
by Indra who had heard the whole story: 'King of birds, you must take
steps to prevent the foolish snakes from consuming the nectar, and to
enable me to take it away from them again.' When Garuda heard that,
he agreed to do it, and elated by the boon of Vishnu, he went to the
snakes with the vessel containing the nectar.
And he said from a distance to those foolish snakes, who were terrified
on account of the boon granted to him, "Here is the nectar brought
by me, release my mother and take it; if you are afraid, I will
put it for you on a bed of Darbha grass. When I have procured my
mother's release, I will go; take the nectar thence." The snakes
consented, and then he put the vessel of nectar on a pure bed of
Kusa grass, [346] and they let his mother go. So Garuda departed,
having thus released his mother from slavery; but while the snakes
were unsuspectingly taking the nectar, Indra suddenly swooped down,
and bewildering them by his power, carried off the vessel of nectar
from the bed of Kusa grass. Then the snakes in despair licked that
bed of Darbha grass, thinking there might be a drop of spilt nectar
on it; the effect was that their tongues were split, and they became
double-tongued for nothing. [347] What but ridicule can ever be the
portion of the over-greedy? Then the snakes did not obtain the nectar
of immortality, and their enemy Garuda, on the strength of Vishnu's
boon, began to swoop down and devour them. And this he did again and
again. And while he was thus attacking them, the snakes [348] in Pátála
were dead with fear, the females miscarried, and the whole serpent
race was well-nigh destroyed. And Vásuki the king of the snakes,
seeing him there every day, considered that the serpent world was
ruined at one blow: then, after reflecting, he preferred a petition
to that Garuda of irresistible might, and made this agreement with
him--"I will send you every day one snake to eat, O king of birds,
on the hill that rises out of the sand of the sea. But you must not
act so foolishly as to enter Pátála, for by the destruction of the
serpent world your own object will be baffled." When Vásuki said this
to him, Garuda consented, and began to eat every day in this place
one snake sent by him: and in this way innumerable serpents have met
their death here. But I am a snake called Sankachúda, [349] and it
is my turn to-day: for that reason I have to-day, by the command of
the king of the snakes, in order to furnish a meal to Garuda, come