The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story
astonishment beheld that figure of Umá carved on the stone. He first
anointed his limbs, and then placing the unguent on another part of the
stone, began to anoint his back by rubbing it against the stone. When
the rolling-eyed Vidyádhara maiden inside the pillar saw that, her
heart being captivated by his beauty, she reflected--"What! has this
handsome man no one to anoint his back? Then I will now rub his back
for him." Thus the Vidyádharí reflected, and, stretching forth her
hand from inside the pillar, she anointed his back then and there
out of affection. Immediately the merchant's son felt the touch, and
heard the jingling of the bracelet, and caught hold of her hand with
his. And the Vidyádharí, invisible as she was, said to him from the
pillar--"Noble sir, what harm have I done you? let go my hand." Then
Nischayadatta answered her--"Appear before me, and say who you are,
then I will let go your hand." Then the Vidyádharí affirmed with an
oath--"I will appear before your eyes, and tell you all." So he let
go her hand. Then she came out visibly from the pillar, beautiful
in every limb, and sitting down, with her eyes fixed on his face,
said to him, "There is a city called Pushkarávatí [545] on a peak of
the Himálayas, in it there lives a king named Vindhyapara. I am his
maiden daughter, named Anurágapará. I came to worship Mahákála, and
rested here to-day. And thereupon you came here, and were beheld by me
anointing your back on this pillar, resembling the stupefying weapon
of the god of love. Then first my heart was charmed with affection
for you, and afterwards my hand was smeared with your unguent, as I
rubbed your back. [546] The sequel you know. So I will now go to my
father's house."
When she said this to the merchant's son, he answered--"Fair one,
I have not recovered my soul which you have taken captive; how can
you thus depart, without letting go the soul which you have taken
possession of?" When he said this to her, she was immediately overcome
with love, and said--"I will marry you, if you come to my city. It is
not hard for you to reach; your endeavour will be sure to succeed. For
nothing in this world is difficult to the enterprising." Having said
this, Anurágapará flew up into the air and departed; and Nischayadatta
returned home with mind fixed upon her. Recollecting the hand that
was protruded from the pillar, like a shoot from the trunk of a tree,
he thought--"Alas! though I seized her hand I did not win it for my
own. Therefore I will go to the city of Pushkarávatí to visit her, and
either I shall lose my life, or Fate will come to my aid." So musing,
he passed that day there in an agony of love, and he set out from that
place early the next morning, making for the north. As he journeyed,
three other merchants' sons, who were travelling towards the north,
associated themselves with him as companions. In company with them
he travelled through cities, villages, forests, and rivers, and at
last reached the northern region abounding in barbarians.
There he and his companions were found on the way by some Tájikas, who
took them and sold them to another Tájika. He sent them in the care of
his servants as a present to a Turushka, named Muravára. Then those
servants took him and the other three, and hearing that Muravára
was dead, they delivered them to his son. The son of Muravára
thought--"These men have been sent me as a present by my father's
friend, so I must send them to him to-morrow by throwing them into
his grave." [547] Accordingly the Turushka fettered Nischayadatta and
his three friends with strong chains, that they might be kept till
the morning. Then, while they were remaining in chains at night,
Nischayadatta said to his three friends, the merchant's sons,
who were afflicted with dread of death--"What will you gain by
despondency? Maintain steadfast resolution. For calamities depart
far away from the resolute, as if terrified at them. Think on the
peerless adorable Durgá, that deliverer from calamity."
Thus encouraging them, he devoutly worshipped that goddess Durgá:
"Hail to thee, O goddess! I worship thy feet that are stained with
a red dye, as if it were the clotted gore of the trampled Asura
clinging to them. Thou, as the all-ruling power of Siva, dost govern
the three worlds, and inspired by thee they live and move. Thou didst
deliver the worlds, O slayer of the Asura Mahisha. Deliver me that
crave thy protection, O thou cherisher of thy votaries." In these
and similar words he and his companions duly worshipped the goddess,
and then they all fell asleep, being weary. And the goddess Durgá
in a dream commanded Nischayadatta and his companions--"Rise up,
my children, depart, for your fetters are loosed." Then they woke up
at night, and saw that their fetters had fallen off of themselves,
and after relating to one another their dream, they departed thence
delighted. And after they had gone a long journey, the night came
to an end, and then those merchant's sons, who had gone through such
terrors, said to Nischayadatta; "Enough of this quarter of the world
infested with barbarians! We will go to the Deccan, friend, but do
you do as you desire."--When they said this to him, he dismissed
them to go where they would, and set out alone vigorously on his
journey, making towards that very northern quarter, drawn by the
noose of love for Anurágapará, flinging aside fear. As he went
along, he fell in, in course of time, with four Pásupata ascetics,
and reached and crossed the river Vitastá. And after crossing it,
he took food, and as the sun was kissing the western mountain,
he entered with them a forest that lay in their path. And there
some woodmen, that met them, said to them: "Whither are you going,
now that the day is over. There is no village in front of you: but
there is an empty temple of Siva in this wood. Whoever remains there
during the night inside or outside, falls a prey to a Yakshiní, who
bewilders him, making horns grow on his forehead, and then treats him
as a victim, and devours him." Those four Pásupata ascetics, who were
travelling together, though they heard this, said to Nischayadatta,
"Come along! what can that miserable Yakshiní do to us? For we have
remained many nights in various cemeteries." When they said this,
he went with them, and finding an empty temple of Siva, he entered
it with them to pass the night there. In the court of that temple
the bold Nischayadatta and the Pásupata ascetics quickly made a great
circle with ashes, and entering into it, they lighted a fire with fuel,
and all remained there, muttering a charm to protect themselves.
Then at night there came there dancing the Yakshiní Sringotpádiní,
[548] playing from afar on her lute of bones, and when she came near,
she fixed her eye on one of the four Pásupata ascetics, and recited
a charm, as she danced outside the circle. That charm produced horns
on him, [549] and bewildered he rose up, and danced till he fell
into the blazing fire. And when he had fallen, the Yakshiní dragged
him half-burnt out of the fire, and devoured him with delight. Then
she fixed her eye on the second Pásupata ascetic, and in the same
way recited the horn-producing charm and danced. The second one also
had horns produced by that charm, and was made to dance, and falling
into the fire, was dragged out and devoured before the eyes of the
others. In this way the Yakshiní maddened one after another at night
the four ascetics, and after horns had been produced on them, devoured
them. But while she was devouring the fourth, it came to pass that,
being intoxicated with flesh and blood, she laid her lute down on the
ground. Thereupon the bold Nischayadatta rose up quickly, and seized
the lute, and began to play on it, and dancing round with a laugh, to
recite that horn-producing charm, which he had learnt from hearing it
often, fixing at the same time his eye on the face of the Yakshiní. By
the operation of the charm she was confused, and dreading death, as
horns were just about to sprout on her forehead, she flung herself
prostrate, and thus entreated him; "Valiant man, do not slay me,
a helpless woman. I now implore your protection, stop the recital of
the charm, and the accompanying movements. Spare me! I know all your
story, and will bring about your wish; I will carry you to the place,
where Anurágapará is." The bold Nischayadatta, when thus confidingly
addressed by her, consented, and stopped the recital of the charm,
and the accompanying movements. Then, at the request of the Yakshiní,
he mounted on her back, and being carried by her through the air,
he went to find his beloved. [550]
And when the night came to an end, they had reached a mountain wood;
there the Guhyakí bowing thus addressed Nischayadatta; "Now that the
sun has risen, I have no power to go upwards, [551] so spend this
day in this charming wood, my lord; eat sweet fruits and drink the
clear water of the brooks. I go to my own place, and I will return
at the approach of night; and then I will take you to the city of
Pushkarávatí, the crown of the Himálayas, and into the presence of
Anurágapará." Having said this, the Yakshiní with his permission set
him down from her shoulder, and departed to return again according
to her promise.
When she had gone, Nischayadatta beheld a deep lake, transparent and
cool, but tainted with poison, lit up by the sun, that stretching
forth the fingers of its rays, revealed it as an example illustrative
of the nature of the heart of a passionate woman. He knew by the
smell that it was tainted with poison, and left it, after necessary
ablutions, and being afflicted with thirst he roamed all over that
heavenly mountain in search of water. And as he was wandering about,
he saw on a lofty place what seemed to be two rubies glittering,
and he dug up the ground there.
And after he had removed the earth, he saw there the head of a living
monkey, and his eyes like two rubies. While he was indulging his
wonder, thinking what this could be, that monkey thus addressed him
with human voice; "I am a man, a Bráhman transformed into a monkey;
release me, and then I will tell you all my story, excellent sir." As
soon as he heard this, he removed the earth, marvelling, and drew the
ape out of the ground. When Nischayadatta had drawn out the ape, it
fell at his feet, and continued--"You have given me life by rescuing
me from calamity. So come, since you are weary, take fruit and water,
and by your favour I also will break my long fast. Having said this,
the liberated monkey took him to the bank of a mountain-torrent
some distance off, where there were delicious fruits, and shady
trees. There he bathed and took fruit and water, and coming back,
he said to the monkey who had broken his fast--"Tell me how you have
become a monkey, being really a man." Then that monkey said, "Listen,
I will tell you now."
Story of Somasvámin.
In the city of Váránasí there is an excellent Bráhman named
Chandrasvámin, I am his son by his virtuous wife, my friend. And my
father gave me the name of Somasvámin. In course of time it came to
pass that I mounted the fierce elephant of love, which infatuation
makes uncontrollable. When I was at this stage of my life, the youthful
Bandhudattá, the daughter of the merchant Srígarbha, an inhabitant of
that city, and the wife of the great merchant of Mathurá Varáhadatta,
who was dwelling in her father's house, beheld me one day, as she was
looking out of the window. She was enamoured of me on beholding me,
and after enquiring my name, she sent a confidential female friend
to me, desiring an interview. Her friend came up secretly to me
who was blind with love, and, after telling her friend's desire,
took me to her house. There she placed me, and then went and brought