Simhasana Dvatrimsika Page 13
“‘This is my way, brahmin,” the king replied with a laugh, “who can change one’s nature? But why do you look as if you are very tired?” The brahmin answered: “What can I say about why I am exhausted? I am suffering terribly.” “Tell me the cause,” asked the king. “Listen then, Your Majesty,” the brahmin said. “On the hill of Mahānīla abides the goddess Kāmākshā. There is a cave in front of her temple. Its portals open only with the password of her incantation. Inside it is a tank of ripened elixir. I went there and spent twelve years reciting the incantation, but the door of the cave did not open. That is why I am so tired and depressed.”
“‘Show me that place,” said the king, “I will try to do something.” The brahmin conducted him to the site, and they both spent the night there. As they slept, the goddess came to the king in a dream and said: “Why have you come here, O King? This door will open only if a man with the thirty-two auspicious marks is sacrificed here, and not otherwise.”
‘The king left the brahmin sleeping and went at dawn to the door of the cave. In the absence of any other man with the auspicious marks, as he was about to cut off his own head, the goddess held his hand. “O crown jewel of heroes!” she said, “I am satisfied. Ask for a boon.” “If you are pleased,” said the king, “give this man the ripened elixir.” Kāmākshā then opened the cave and gave the elixir to the brahmin, whose heart’s desire was thus fulfilled by the great deed of Vikramaditya; and the king returned to Ujjayini.’
After listening to the statuette’s tale, King Bhoja turned back from the throne.
23. The King’s Daily Schedule
A statuette told the king the twenty-third tale when he came once again to ascend the throne.
‘The noble King Vikrama ruled an empire from his capital in Avanti,’ the statuette said. ‘His fame had spread in all directions, and the glow of crown jewels from thirty-six royal houses lit his feet.
‘In the sacred moment preceding dawn the king would awaken to the auspicious sounds of the kettledrum and the conch shell, and the chanting of his bards. Arising from his bed, he would move to a comfortable seat where he would meditate on the Supreme Spirit and reflect on his lineage, his duties and his vows. At the end of the morning rites he would make a ritual gift of gold and set his feet on the ground.
‘The king would then take exercise by practising with the thirty-six weapons, and have his body massaged in the rubbing room. After bathing in royal style in the pavilion of the pool, he would put on fresh laundered clothes and offer prayers to the supreme and primeval Lord. Thereafter all his limbs would be embellished with jewels and decorations in the hall of ornaments, and he would take his seat upon the lion throne in the royal assembly. There, attended by his prime minister, commander-in-chief, ministers, courtiers, nobles and family, he would transact the business of state.
‘At midday the hour would be announced with the beating of drums. The king would then perform the noon prayers and provide for charity to the poor, the helpless and the afflicted. After this he would dine, surrounded by his kinsfolk, friends and attendants, on food seasoned with all the six flavours, ending the repast with a betel leaf dressed with camphor water.
‘Anointing his body with fragrances of sandalwood, saffron, aloe and musk, the king would then sleep for a short while on a golden bed with a mattress of swansdown and pillows on either side. He would lie on his left side, for,
To sit after eating makes one fat;
to lie outstretched gives strength;
and to lie on the left side aids
longevity. But to run after eating
is to have death running after you.
‘On getting up, the king would partake of worldly pleasures: some moments in amusement with his parakeets, mynas, swans and other birds; some others in dalliance with charming women adept in all kinds of clever talk; and yet others in entertainment by dancing girls. The evening would find him in the royal assembly hall, fanned by maidens with tinkling bracelets, the white parasol held over his head. There, surrounded by thirty-six court entertainers, he granted audiences appropriate for the evening.
‘After performing the evening prayers and other rites, the king would retire to sleep, his mind purified with meditation on the gods and the gurus. Thus did he spend his time, partaking of all the delights of this world.
‘Once, having spent the night in many and varied pleasures, the king told his ministers: “I had a dream last night. It was in the last watch but one, as I slept with the women of my harem. The room was bright with jewel lamps. I dreamt that I was smeared with a paste of red sandalwood and mounted on a buffalo as dark and enormous as a boulder broken off from the Black Mountain. I was alone and being carried away swiftly towards the south, the direction of which the patron is the god of death. Then I woke up. What could this dream be, and what could it portend?”
‘On hearing these words, the ministers and the priests gazed sadly at each other with downcast eyes. For a moment they maintained a discreet silence, as retainers are always afraid to say something unpleasant, even if it is true. “Lord of the earth,” they said eventually, “you know the reality of everything. Still, you want an explanation of which you are already aware.
Riding on a cow, a bull, or an elephant;
a palace, a mountain peak, or plants;
weeping and death; being smeared
with ordure or having sex with someone
with whom it is forbidden:
all these are auspicious in dreams.
“‘But being mounted on an ass, a buffalo, a bear or an ape is inauspicious. White is good, except in ashes, cotton, cowries and bones. Dark is bad, except in elephants, horses, cattle and brahmins. Thus, riding a buffalo is somewhat unfavourable, Your Majesty. Some gold should be given away to negate this evil dream.”
‘The king then caused his treasury to be left open for three days, and a proclamation to be made in the city centre: “O people! Anyone may come once and take away whatever he wishes.” Thus he gave great bounties for three days to neutralize the evil dream . It is said,
“How great was Vikrama’s charity!
Merely on account of an evil dream
he let the people of the city make free
with his treasury for three days.”
‘King Bhoja,’ said the statuette, ‘if you have such munificence as did Vikramaditya then ascend this throne of great Indra.’ But the king was astonished by her words, and went back to his own palace.
24. The Judgement of Śālivāhana
On another occasion, as King Bhoja was again about to ascend the throne after having made all the arrangements for his coronation, the twenty-fourth statuette said to him: ‘O King, only a person with the magnanimity of Vikramaditya may sit upon this throne.
‘When that king ruled,’ the statuette continued, ‘the earth was laden with grain, the rivers flowed with milk and curds, and the trees dripped with honey. No one was inclined to wickedness, and none pursued profit or sought pleasure to the exclusion of everything else. Such was the state of the populace under that virtuous king.’
‘In Vikramaditya’s kingdom there was a city called Purandarapuri. In it there lived an extremely rich merchant who had four sons. In course of time this vaīśya1 grew old and ill. As he neared death, he summoned his four sons and said: “O my sons, when I am gone, the four of you are bound to have disputes irrespective of whether you stay together or not. So, while I am still alive, I have divided my wealth among you four, beginning with the eldest. The four shares are buried under the four posts of this bed. You should take them in that order, from the eldest to the youngest.” To this the sons agreed.
‘After the merchant’s demise the four brothers stayed together for a month, but then their wives began to quarrel. “Why have an altercation?” they thought. “Our father had already made out four shares while he was still alive. We should take the apportioned wealth which is under his bed, and live separately in peace.”
‘Having agreed to this,
when they dug beneath the bed four copper caskets emerged from under its four posts. One had some earth inside it, and the other three contained charcoal, bones, and straw respectively. The four brothers were mystified. “Our father made a fine division,” they said, “but who can understand the method in this?” They went to the local council and explained the situation, but the councillors too were unable to understand the rationale of the division.
‘Thereafter the four brothers went wherever there were knowledgeable people in the city and explained the matter, but no one could come to a decision. They went once to Ujjayini and narrated the tale of the division before the royal assembly. After listening to them the king immediately instructed his ministers to look into their case. “Your father was a man of discrimination,” the ministers told them after considering the matter. “If he set aside straw, coal and the other things, it was not without purpose. But this has to be judged by people of spiritual eminence.”
‘Thus advised, the vāiśyas carried on. They met with ridicule at every village and town they visited. Eventually they came to the city of Pratishṭhāna, and spoke before its leaders who also were unable to make a pronouncement. At that time Śālivāhana lived in a potter’s house in the city. Having heard of this matter, he went to the city fathers and said to them: “Gentlemen, what is so difficult to understand in this? What is so surprising? How is it that you do not perceive the method in this division?” “Youngman,” they replied, “this is a mystery to us. We do not understand it. If you do, then tell us what this manner of division means.”
‘Śālivāhana said: “These four are the sons of the same rich man. During his lifetime itself their father made an apportionment among them, from the eldest to the youngest. To the eldest he gave earth: that means all the lands that he had acquired. To the second he gave straw, which means all his grain. To the third he gave bones, which indicates all his cattle. And he gave charcoal to the fourth, which denotes all his gold.” Thus did Śālivāhana determine the shares between the brothers, and they returned home, satisfied with the decision.
‘King Vikrama also heard the news about this determination of the shares, and marvelled greatly. To learn more he sent a letter to the city of Pratishṭhāna. “Greetings,” he wrote, “to the illustrious city fathers of Pratishṭhāna, who are ever engaged in the six sacred duties of praying, conducting prayers, studying, teaching, giving and receiving ritual gifts; and who are devoted to the virtues of observance, abstinence and other rules of conduct. After enquiring about their welfare, King Vikrama says: the person in your locality who made the decision on the quadruple division should be despatched to be presented before us.”
‘After seeing this letter, the city fathers called Śālivāhana and told him: “Śālivāhana, you have been summoned to Ujjayini by King Vikrama, the king of kings, the supreme lord at whose feet other kings pay homage, and who is a wish-fulfilling tree for all supplicants. You must go there.”
“‘Who is King Vikrama?” said Śālivāhana. “I will not go on his summons. I have nothing to do with him. If he has any business with me, let him come himself.” The civic leaders then sent a letter to the king, saying that Śālivāhana was not prepared to go.
‘At the letter’s contents the king’s face flushed with anger. He set out with a force of eighteen legions and, on arrival at Pratishṭhāna, surrounded it and sent messengers to Śālivāhana. “King Vikrama, the king of all kings, summons you, Śālivāhana,” they said. “Come to see him.” But Śālivāhana replied: “O messengers, I will not go all alone to see the king. I will see Vikrama with a fourfold army, on the field of battle. Convey this to the king.”
‘The messengers reported this to the king, who proceeded to the battle field for the contest. As for Śālivāhana, he took clay in the potter’s house and crafted with it a force of elephants, chariots, cavalry and infantry. Bringing it to life with an incantation, he came out of the city with this fourfold army and went forth into the field. As the two forces marched out,
The horizon shook and the ocean
rocked with fear; the mountains trembled
and the serpent king quaked in the nether world;
the earth rolled and mighty snakes
furiously spewed venom. All this happened
many times as the king’s army went forth.
The glorious armies glittered
with endless troops of cavalry
as swift as the wind,
and masses of rutting elephants;
the entire sky was covered
with flags, whisks and banners;
and the three worlds were filled
with the sound of gongs,
tabors and kettle drums.
‘A mighty battle now took place, and Śālivāhana’s army was destroyed by Vikramaditya.2 Much distraught, Śālivāhana recalled the boon given to him by his father to remember the latter in times of trouble. He called in his mind his parent Śesha, the serpent king, who promptly despatched all his snakes to provide support. Bitten by them, the entire force of Vikramaditya was rendered unconscious by their venom, and fell fainting on the field.
‘The valiant Vikrama longed to revive his army which was thus disabled, for he was a king devoted to the protection of his servants. He went to Mount Mandara and worked single-mindedly on propitiating Vāsuki, the chief of the eight serpent tribes, Taking the jar of nectar given by that adversary, he then turned back, anxious to resuscitate his army.
‘On the way he saw two brahmins, who matched the Aśvinas in beauty, the sun and the moon in glory, the Marutas in majesty, and the two Paulastya lords in splendour.3 Raising their right hands, these two supposed brahmins blessed the king with future happiness, and said: “You are compassionate to the poor, O King. The prayers of supplicants bear fruit only through you. Great givers like Dadhichi, Śibi, Jīmūtavāhana and Angeśvara4 have been outstripped and forgotten because of your largesse. You brought Bāli’s elixir and essence from the nether world5 and comforted two brahmins with them. There is nothing which magnanimous people like you cannot give up. You obtained the quilt, the crayon and the magic staff from Trikāla Nātha in the Himalaya,6 and gave them away to a king exiled from his kingdom. Your Majesty’s famous, marvellous and extraordinary deeds cannot be described adequately even by the thousand-mouthed Śesha, what to say of any one else.”
‘The king was pleased with their pleasant words. “Choose what you desire, you two,” he said. The brahmins then told him: “Your Magesty is always striving only to help others. Give us this jar full of nectar, O King. Do not take back your words, for a promise once made must be kept.”
‘The brahmins spoke with the insistence of pent-up excitement, and the king reflected on their words. “Who are you two?” he asked. “Know us to be the servants,” they replied, “of Śesha, on whom rests the god Vishnu, and on even one of whose heads this world would be no more than a mustard seed. You, O King, intend to kill his own son and are here after obtaining nectar from the propitiated Vāsuki, Therefore we approached you. Śesha sent us, knowing your goodness and your incomparable heart. ‘Children,’ he told us, ‘beg King Vikramaditya for the nectar. He is kind to brahmins and will not want to refuse your request.’ So now do what you think proper.”
‘The two serpent youths disguised as brahmins had spoken with candour. After listening to them the king thought for a moment. If Vikramaditya did not give the gift which two brahmins begged him,” he said to himself, “the ignominy of this will be impossible to erase. So, let dharma prosper, even though the designs of my enemies prosper with it. I will give them the nectar even though I earned it by penance.” And the king gave away the nectar to the two false brahmins. They praised him and returned to their own abode, while he went back to Ujjayini.
‘The serpent Vāsuki was pleased with Vikrama’s heroic conduct, and immediately revived his army,’ the statuette continued, ‘he also praised the noble king. If there is anyone on this earth capable of doing what he did, that person
alone would be worthy of ascending this royal throne.’
After listening to the story told by the statuette, King Bhoja returned home, thinking that Vikramaditya was indeed divine.
25. The Halting of Saturn
A statuette restrained the king with appropriate words when he was once again inclined to ascend the throne. ‘King Bhoja,’ she said, ‘listen to the tale I will tell you today, and then decide, after understanding it, what is proper for you to do here.’
‘When Vikramaditya was king, once an astrologer who had knowledge of the four hundred thousand celestial bodies came to the royal assembly. Presented by the chamberlain, he pronounced a blessing for the king and took a suitable seat.’
“‘What are all the arts you know?” asked the king. “Your Majesty,” the astrologer replied, “I know the shape of the past, the future and the present. I do so through the movements of the sun and the moon, the planets and the starry constellations; through their rising and setting, eclipses and accelerations, situations and aspects, friendly and adverse natures, strengths and weaknesses; and also through the eight types of omens, like celestial and aerial portents, and terrestrial features, sounds, signs and prodigies.”
‘The king wished to know about the future, and on his enquiry the astrologer said: ‘Your Majesty, there will be a famine here which will last twelve years.” “Sir!” cried the king on hearing this, “there is no transgression of proper governance in my kingdom. Nor is there any propagation of wrong policies. The people are not oppressed. There is no animosity towards religion or interference in pious works; no altercation with the helpless or persecution of the defenceless; no slandering of others or teaching of falsehood. None are inclined to wickedness. No tax is levied on those who should not be taxed. Neither is there any destruction of sacred images, or affliction of sages, or departure from the rules of caste. How then can a famine be possible here?”