Divine Recovery

On the festive occasion of Onam, here is another story for my readers.

Mani had lost his home to the local landlord after having failed to pay his loan installments that were overdue for quite some years. It was a small house he had, but the landlord had his sights on the large tract of land on which the house stood. Every year the poor farmer used to take some loan for sustenance and agriculture, but the rain and the wind gods were not always kind to him. Every year, whenever he grew fruits and vegetables on this land, the rain and winds played havoc leaving him in dire poverty year after year.

He used to pray daily at the small Krishna shrine and tell him about the difficulties he faced every day in life. How Indra and Vaayu, the gods had unseated him from his home, despite his multiple prayers day in and day out. Now this year, on the verge of Onam he had lost his house and had to seek shelter at his best friend Gopi’s house. Though Gopi was kind enough to give shelter to him and his small family, it didn’t look good that he should stay for long at his place. Moreover, Gopi also was a small time farmer who subsisted on his trees for basic survival.

The landlord had taken over his land and house, saying that Mani owed him more than the land he had usurped in lieu of the unpaid loan. He went and begged the landlord to give him one more chance this year, as he would try his best to bring up the plantations with the weather gods willing. The landlord did not budge an inch as usual and Mani retreated back to Gopi’s house dejectedly.

It was evening time and Mani as usual was found crying at Krishna’s temple talking to him at the sanctum as to what transpired between him and the landlord. The temple priest also was sitting next to Mani while he was talking. The priest was a great devotee himself and he was the mediator for devotees like Mani. He asked him to touch his shoulder and look at Krishna. To all wonder, Mani could see Krishna himself standing in all grandeur as a small boy in the sanctum. “Do not worry, dear Mani, I will take your case with the weather gods and see to it they turn favorable to you for the years to come. With regards to your land and house, we will see to it tomorrow at the Onam celebrations. Go today and rest in peace and have a sound sleep”. A weeping Mani replied, “I am deeply blessed” as he prostrated before the Lord who had disappeared shortly after giving him hope. The priest smiled at Mani and said, “Do not worry Mani, now that Krishna has taken up your case, he will see to it that the house and the land returns to you in no time. Who but He, is the lord of all lands.”

Mani was in great spirits and told Gopi all what had transpired between him and Krishna. Both families went to the temple the next morning to get the blessings on the Onam day. They took the prasadam and went to the village ground where the celebrations were to start. The start to the festivities was made by the landlord who was the chief guest by virtue of being the landlord of the village. All the villagers were indebted to him and they could not think of anyone else to invite as the guest for the proceedings.

The landlord was in a great mood, and there were a lot of games in which everybody including he participated. Mani again went to him during the ceremonies and asked if he could at least give him his house. “Yes”, he laughed “if you could beat me in three games”. The third game will be of my choosing and not any of the games that are organized in this ground today”. Mani again lost all hope and looked lost, but the temple priest came to him and asked him to contest with the landlord. “Why worry when the Lord, the master of all ceremonies is on your side”. Lots of villagers by hearsay came to know about the deal between the landlord and Mani and crowded around them to watch.

The first game was archery, both were given bows and three arrows by the event organizers. There were some fresh harvest fruits that were pasted on a board and the person who could shoot the maximum fruits down were to be adjudged the winner of the contest. The Landlord as was his wont was to start first. He was always the winner all these years in this game during the festivities and took up his bow and sent the arrows on to the fruits in a flurry as a accomplished archer would do and shot down a few fruits. Now it was Mani’s turn, who took the bow with trembling fingers. the presence of the landlord next to him itself was overwhelming. He sent the first arrow, which dislodged a fruit to the surprise of everybody. His second arrow brought down a couple of them down to the applause of everybody. The priest standing nearby asked Mani to bend the bow to the maximum before sending the third and last arrow. He did so as told, and the arrow brought down the board and the entire fruits along with it. The whole roaring crowd then moved with them to the next game venue.

There were a dozen odd plantain trees, and each participant had to cut down the bunch of bananas to the count of 10. The person who brought down the maximum bananas would be declared the winner. The landlord as usual started first and brought down around hundred bananas. It was Mani’s turn and he went about his work like he did in his plantation and came out a winner.

The landlord was in a fix. He could not let Mani win the last game as otherwise he would have to hand over the house and land, a thing which he never wanted to do. He was like Duryodhana in the Mahabharatha of yore, having usurped Yuddhishtra’s kingdom and never wanting to give even a needle point of land back. Krishna had come disguised to the celebrations and unknown to the priest, was standing next to him. He patted the priest on his back and when the priest turned, there was an old wise man who looked familiar yet could not pinpoint as to where they had met earlier. “Do not worry, it is me your favorite”, Krishna said laughingly. “The disguise is working that means, even you could not recognize me. Let me go and play my mediator role and see if the landlord relents to giving Mani his property”. “And what if he doesn’t”, asked the priest looking grave. “Do not worry, there wont be a war here. but he will lose all his wealth before the next Onam celebrations.

Having said that, Krishna walked to the landlord. The landlord was surprised to see his uncle in the midst of the celebrations. He had not seen him for a long time. The gray haired wise uncle of his talked about Mani and requested him to give him back his land but the landlord his cousin wouldn’t relent. When Krishna in his uncle’s form persisted, the landlord became angry and asked, “on whose side are you, his or mine”. “I am always by the side of my devotee”, said a smiling Krishna. The aged uncle with wrinkles couldn’t walk or see properly. Yet he had brought two fine horses as a onam gift for his cousin knowing well how he liked riding and how good he was in it. The landlord was happy to receive the gift from his uncle whom he had long forgotten. The landlord in arrogance, spoke, “if Mani can beat me to the river on horse back”, offering him one of the horses, “I would give the property back with no more conditions attached. Do you accept the challenge, Mani?” The whole crowd went silent. The landlord looked at his uncle and said, “you, of all people, wanted me to give his property, and here I am willing to do it provided he beats me in this last game.” Some villagers and children already had started running to the river end which was the finishing point for this to be contested race.

A dejected Mani looked at the priest and the landlord’s uncle. There was no hope for him now for he had never mounted a horse before, let alone having rode a horse in his entire life. The uncle intervened in the challenge. “I agree cousin to the contest but it is not fair to Mani. He has not rode a horse, looks like in his whole life. Let it be a contest among equals and you would be praised and respected among all the villagers”. “Who is the other equal in this crowd other than Mani, he asked in all directions to which his good old uncle replied “If you would permit me, I can ride a horse though I am quite old for it having lost touch for many years. I will participate on his behalf”. “Nothing doing, if he wants his house and the land back, let him ride, and not you on his behalf”, replied the landlord. “But son, you have to make some amends, you must choose someone to ride the other horse, what if Mani rides the horse and breaks his neck”. “Uncle, why are your risking your life for this petty Mani”. “That is what I am also asking on this auspicious day, why are you holding on to his property, wealthy as the Lord that your are”, asked Krishna. “See the whole crowd is waiting with baited breath as to what you will decide.” “Okay Uncle, let us both ride, you on his behalf, like old times and see who reaches the river bank first”. “There you are now, speaking like my old time good cousin”. Both got on to the horses. “Mani come, I will take you for a ride of your life”, said the old man and the crowd goaded Mani to mount the steed.

It was a tall horse, and Mani surveyed the crowd all around him as he sat behind the landlord’ uncle. He was tense and the old man asked him to hold him tightly. The priest came up to him and told him not to worry. and touched him gently on his wrist. To Mani’s surprise, the curly locks of the golden haired Krishna caressed him and was he surprised to see Krishna seated in front looking back at him with a smile. “Now do not get emotional, just hold on to me tight and from here starts the downfall of the landlord”. Waving to the crowd, the old man steadied his horse and told the priest to wave the flag for them to start the race. The crowd went into rapture and started running towards the river bank, confident that the old man had it in him to win the race and with it, their aspirations. How they wanted the old man and Mani to win and set an example to the landlord that every one’s land cannot be snatched by him without a protest.

The landlord sped off in good speed with Krishna and Mani off to a slow start. It was a good enough distance to the river bank for the horses. When the landlord had vanished into the distance, Mani’s horse picked up speed and the villagers could see now what a gifted horseman the old man was while riding his horse. They screamed in delight and ran as fast as they could to the finishing point. Within a few moments, the landlord was agitated to see his uncle overtaking him. He tried his best but could not beat his uncle to the finishing point. When he stepped down, his Uncle asked him to keep his word which he did to the delight of Mani and all the villagers who were rejoicing all around him…

Author’s note: This story came to me fleeting while listening to this devotional song

Story of a Ruin

Hindu temple, Ubud, Bali — Pura Temple, Bali

On the banks of a winding river
covered by shade giving trees
stood an old temple now a ruin
one day, was I mighty surprised
to see myself walking towards it?

The glaze from the noon fiery sun
as it struck many majestic pillars
at first blinded me; I could see
a deity of a goddess unattended.

Offering my salutations to her
I looked around to spot anyone
who would come this desolate way
but alas, no one seemed to exist
except me, in these lost quarters.

I walked the once trodden steps
when having heard a sharp noise
I turned around, to my wonder
the old sanctum door now shut
who shut that door, I wondered.

Around the farther side were
trees plenty next to a cool pond
with flowers growing amidst it
my eyes spied in the shade of trees
a monkey, a squirrel eyeing in awe.

The breeze and the fruits in bounty
took me to a dream of bygone days
I dreamt of that place back in time
how festivities rocked the still ground
where people flocked lost in joy.

The temple fair with pristine glory
attracted one and all, near and afar
a visitor in me now in different attire
there I saw a beautiful girl standing
at the steps of the majestic temple.

Was she beautiful, was she radiant
was something about her charm
observing all who were lost in fun
who she was, so bright as the sun
my mind at sea, churned thoughts.

I climbed the lovely temple steps
devotees praying to the goddess
somehow the glow on the deity
could very relate to that on the girl
one in divine, one in human form.

Casual inquiries it was made known
she was the child of the temple priest
a devotee who cared for nothing
engrossed in the service of his folk
worship a mother who was his child.

I circled with the crowd at every turn
her radiant smile, the mighty holy
doubts cleared with the compassion
she bestowed on us with her love
a mother pleased at her children.

At a loss, keep the discovery to myself
do I make it known, had I the courage
should I approach her I wondered
would she listen, as others her age
a woman, she of a countless age.

One day, she was playing with kids
getting close towards the little ones
when she sensed my approach,
the all knowing smile asking
was I attracted to her these days.

With courage, I went near divine her
while the kids not at close quarters
asking her, was it true, I had sensed
she the divine in human form said
keep it to you, which I did this time.

Days were spent meeting and asking
had she powers she could exercise
could she keep the village blessed
she would wait for them to pass a test
then, would decide to be a part of it.

Months passed by, days of joy to me,
one day, the priest’s daughter fell sick
ailments added to her father’s plight
one said of a physician with the king
might help her to tide over her state.

A journey to the palace was too far
to ask for a cure might invite wrath
a lad I was, to carry the message
private to the medic, to respond to
a person glowing, despite her pain.

I went to the court and with difficulty
manage to get his consent, for the call
but he asked a fee, which I doubted
any one, of the village could afford
but they could have tried and helped.

With sad tidings, I got the message
no one cared to help the priest
who did selfless service for them
helped bring blessings from Her
just as She had blessed him with Her.

Chiefs and landlords refused to help
in kind or in money, left him sad
the priest died, broke, just as he was
was this test you told of, she smiled
she was to pass, with me by her side.

Rain clouded to the delight of all
but my plight, no one could gauge
I lost her that night, hands in mine
radiant as ever, loving eyes upon me
in torrents, it poured from the sky.

The river nearby rose in anger
submerged all with its people
waves climbed the forsaken temple
they also washed away our lost selves
I must be glad to part with my body.

It all came back, I was driven here
a place where I loved a girl of glory
a divine Odyssey it got me here
left to reminisce the story of a ruin
would She come again for me…

If you liked reading this, hope you enjoy the sequel that continues as a story in Yajnavalkya

Goddess

goddess

Goddess, whenever I look to you
I know you have known me
all my trials and tribulations
you wore them as a garland
to keep my worries at bay.

My offerings are to please you
but so trivial as they really are
when compared to the lovely gifts
countless that has been bestowed
these years on me by your good self.

In all my walks and moments
haven’t you walked with me
watching my every step that I took
correcting as a loving mother should
you were at my every beck and call.

I am greatly thankful to you
for having kept me company
I only wish you would hold my hands
lead me to places where I go after this
As I tread my steps now weary with age…

Happy Navratri and let Her blessings be upon you.

My Savior

The Lord is my mighty Savior
for without Him there is no me.
At every rock and every brook
the Lord has made arrangements
to guarantee me a free pass.

He has trees to nourish me with fruits
He has fields to nourish me with grains
He is the shine on the sun to charge me
He is the calm on the moon to soothe me
He has taken pains to keep me at ease.

He has been my ageless and tireless friend
who has walked with me in countless forms
when I was young, wasn’t he my guardian?
when I aged, isn’t he thrilled to play my child?
He knows me much more than I know me.

If only we countless warriors abide
by the rules and laws He has laid
That is when He can rest and stand
the test of time and rebuke of others
who criticized Him for this creation.

A lot of his time is spent correcting me
me who, goes stray without a guide
He loves playing the shepherd role
He has to fight mighty battles with
my steadfast love that is His armor.

The Lord is my mighty savior
for nothing pleases Him than us
his loving creation in whom he prides
His loving grace with abundance glory
want us to practice faith and patience.

The lively professor

A professor when he was on the verge of retirement dream’t of coaching eager students in his now soon to be retired life, so he thought, as he drove back from college on one of his last days.

He called up one of his old students who now worked in the press to put up a classified in the morning newspaper that would advertise his skills in accountancy as a tutor.

A few days back, 3 girls, all of them pals, came to his house for coaching as exams were just a few months away but they saw a padlock greeting them on his door. They went away sadly as they could not meet the tutor who dream’t of teaching even in his retired life.

padlock

After a week they came again to inquire and this time they found him waiting and ready to teach. Not wasting much time, he taught the nuances about all he knew about the subject in those few months.

The girls loved him for his knowledge and more than that, the way he imparted it to them, making it look so easy. If only, they thought, all of the professors they met were like him.

On the day of the results, our girls were mighty thrilled and why wouldn’t they as the results outdid their expectations and they hurried to their old mentor to convey the great news but sadly the padlock greeted them this time too and they lingered on for him to arrive, for quite some time.

But arrive, he never did that day, and as it was late, the trio went back sadly each to their own homes. The next dawn they went back again to see the house still locked as they found it the earlier day. This time they inquired about his whereabouts with his not so near neighbors, only to know that he had passed a few months away…

Some good souls linger on to complete an unfulfilled wish…

Blessings

Accumulate blessings not riches
dear love not desperate hate
sweet knowledge not sour ignorance
know yourself not about others.

Know well your nature to correct it
for we all have grey lines of fault
some seldom may point these out
some biding to take advantage of it.

These very flaws minute as they seem
take away our right to dear places
we could have so well reached
for time is a precious commodity
that can seldom be bartered.

Pure thyself by chanting His name
clothe your selves with His stories
illuminate thy self with his glory
when time is ripe for angels to arrive
be the lamp among the lost crowd.

As they take you undisturbed
to a place of peace you barely knew
with gained blessings on your crown
you chance upon His mighty throne
at His tender feet by His loving side.

Where no sorrows can abound
only carefree birds that chirp
the lovely scrolls of your Life
that got etched as you well lived
in times, good, bad and sad.

For each of us has limited time
so as you run around to make a mark
let the mark of blessing be upon you
leave no stone to accumulate it
for in the end it is all what matters.

To Him who holds store of good things
of blessings distributed to the needy
May you add to His cherished stock
as you reach him safe and sound
the ultimate heights you asked for.

Shraddha & Saburi.

The Saint of Shirdi in whom I met my Guru 40 years back when I visited Shirdi and whatever I am, I owe it to him.

He had always stressed on us following 2 things in life. Shraddha that is faith in the Lord and Saburi that is patience in Life.

Here is a lovely poem from Bindu on the importance of following the principles asked of us by Sai.

https://wp.me/p9rOUY-2m

The Boy of Tidings

It is still dark in the city as the sun was yet to wake up at the horizon from his deep slumber late last evening. It seemed he was tired of peeking through the clouds brought about by a cyclone that had ravaged many a southern state and was still streaking to conquer uncharted territories on the Indian west coast trying to make a landfall before it died down. The Ockhi cyclone had made a surprise appearance at the southern tip of India and churned the Indian ocean and the Arabian sea much to the horror of coastal towns and villages and had played with the lives of the fisherman community who had travelled the high seas during the last few days. Though it ran shy of the indian coast so far, the wind the churning waves and the rain had in its grip the towns of Kanyakumari, Nagercoil, the Kerala coast and had ravaged Lakshadweep islands, the damage of which is still to be known.

The newspaper boy had already started his work near one of the many bus stops in the city, trying to sort out the many news papers and magazines that he need to carry across to homes to those news hungry and elderly people who would wait for him for happy tidings as he would swirl the newspaper at them from a safe distance. He still had a good aim to reach somewhere near their outstretched hands, as if it was a offering from the gods at dawn.

But today, the winds and the slight rain had made his job difficult. Navigating his cycle through the pools of water on the streets from the overnight rains, he had to go and find out a dry stretch on the steps of each house where he could safely deliver the paper full of news that should not be drenched while his eager readers this day decided to stay within the safe confines of their home instead of looking out to welcome him.

Running late, he saw the morning sun after so many days in his distribution work. The sun with a mighty effort had finally gathered himself and had started his journey across the still cloudy skies. As he looked down, the only movement he could detect was a tiny boy braving the cold windy weather going to each home with a sheaf of papers…

Work is Worship

For those who have followed me recently, am republishing this post written 3 years ago, a long one for the happy weekend read.

Harish had come to the city 3 decades ago and barring a small stint at a bakery in his early formative years, he became a rickshaw puller just like thousand others across the country. Over the years, as the country progressed, there came the cycle rickshaws followed by the auto rickshaws but like many others Harish would not move up the ladder and persisted with his manual one and never thought of changing cities and pitched his tent in Calcutta where he had arrived in the 70’s.

Harish was in his late sixties and his daily schedule would be to have to his breakfast which consisted of rice gruel and a banana and then he would disappear into the big bustling city crowd and would be spotted at locations taking his passengers usually one or two with their luggage in tow. Passengers rarely remembered him, as for them, he was a means of cheap transport to be quickly forgotten as soon as they landed at their destinations. It always invoked the curiosity of people who have had the time to observe people like Harish to wonder about the source of energy to pull their passengers with just two hands to their destinations miles away on roads that sometimes sloped upwards and downwards.

Harish due to some thought ingrained in his childhood had never visited a temple or never thought about the gods in them and always wondered whether people did get the benefit of visiting them. He must have carried hundreds nay a thousand in his umpteen trips up and down to holy shrines spread across the city. It was rather a coincidence, a strange one at that, having carted or transported so many devotees, he had never visited or entered a shrine so far, though he knew the gods and goddesses by their pictures that were splashed across by the religious minded across the city walls and in the outer precincts of the temples.

Harish lived alone all these years except for this month when he got company. It was Nandhu, a boy of 8 years, whom he had rescued from the streets on a night trip. Nandhu seemed to be abandoned by his relations in the city or he appeared genuinely lost as he thought. By the look of the poor boy, he appeared to be from a very poor background and experience told Harish to keep him with him till he grew up in age to fend for himself.

It was already 7 pm and since Nandhu was down with fever in the hut for the last two days, Harish had him at the back of his mind all day when he was scouting for work in the sun and rain who played their parts to perfection all through the day. Today was a bad day and he had made barely 60 rupees. Without at least 70, he could not take Nandhu to the doctor who lived near their shanty house for medicines. Moreover he had to get some food for dinner for both of them. He had been roaming through the city but somehow luck eluded him today. It only dawned upon him now that he had skipped his lunch like so many other days in the past.

A light drizzle had started and Harish was hopeful that someone would hail him to escape it. As minutes ticked by, he knew he had to reach and get Nandhu to the doctor before 9 PM after which Sarmaji, the doctor would not see anybody. At his wits end, his legs impatient and his mind failing to control them, in despair he cried out to the Lord, whom he knew very feebly, for help and looked around desperately for that one passenger who could give him the last 30 rupees after which he could wind up work for the day. With his legs aching and stomach on a raging fire he wondered if he would ever reach home today. The small shops in the lane, where he and his cart were at standstill, were downing their shutters as the shop keepers too sensed that it was high time and with the rain not helping, they least expected any one to turn up at their shops. The sun having set an hour ago, it was quite dark except for the feeble street lights which were quite a distance apart.

It was at this point of time, a couple emerged with some baggage and asked him if he could take them to the Ram Temple which was at a mile’s distance. The couple appeared young and dressed neatly in nice clothes, Harish wondered if he could reach them to their destination in time. Moreover the road to the temple was bad and had a slight slope and it would require all his strength to pull them across it. It was that moment of time the couple asked, as if in one voice, how much he would charge them. Harish was in two minds. He did not want to scare them away as he desperately needed the 25 or 30 as he had calculated earlier and asked them for 25, which was very fair considering the time and the weather.

The couple hopped on to his carriage after a bit of bargaining and settling it at 20 rupees not withstanding Harish’s fervent pleas. After the price had been fixed it was left to Harish to show his experience to handle the cart and his passengers deftly as he pulled them slowly on to their destination. It took him a short and gasping run in the last 200 meters before he reached the temple just in time or so he thought. The couple got down and thanked him and he had to wait for the lady to count 20 coins and hand them to his outstretched hands. A lightening streak flashed, as she handed him the money, with the help of which he could see the charming couple’s faces. It seems they were newly married and had come to the temple as was the custom in those places on a Thursday. He saw them climbing up the stairs and entering the shrine.

The despair call to the Lord an hour ago had worked and Harish wondered if it really was because of the Lord’s blessings, he had gained this last trip. Since it was so late and he having made his wages for subsistence for the day, he thought of entering the temple for the first time in his life. He had a lot of doubts as he climbed each step. What if the Pujari or the temple priest would shout at him for coming in such shabby and torn clothes? Nevertheless he walked on and entered the temple. There was no one in sight and having gained courage with each step, he walked on to explore the inner precincts of the shrine. He came to different places of worship allocated to each god or a goddess at various places inside the shrine. All this time, he was looking around with fear and awe, as with time, he still could not see anyone in the temple. Holding on to the coins, he at last reached the sanctum sanctorum where he saw the main deity and his consort and immediately recognized them by their robes and faces as his passengers who had graced his rickshaw, a few minutes ago.

Tears ran down his eyes and he felt his life had met its purpose having transported the Lord and his Consort in his rickshaw to the temple. As he prostrated on the floor in front of the shining glory with folded hands, he took care lest the coins would fall away and was struck with surprise when he counted them later to be exactly 25 coins, the price that he had asked initially and that too shining gold coins…

Dharma Questions

In the Indian philosophy and religious texts, the word Dharma signify ethical conduct or righteousness.

There is a pleasant narrative about the King Yudhisthira who was the son of dharma in the Indian epic, Mahabharata, meeting his father Yama ( Dharmaraja or the God of Death) in the forest when they were in exile. Yama wanted to test his son and decided to set up a meeting.

A deer took the fire kindling kit of a sage and ran away. The sage pleaded with the Pandavas ( the 5 sons of Pandu) who were living in exile at that time. All of them ran in pursuit of the deer who dodged them skillfully for a long distance and then vanished from sight. Yudhisthira , the eldest of them all, asked the others to look for a water source to quench his thirst, and the youngest Nakula upon his instruction went out in search and did manage to find a beautiful lake with crystal clear water and standing cranes. He was going to quench his thirst first when a voice alerted him.

“O Nakula! The water will turn into poison if you take it without satisfactorily answering my questions”. Nakula, in arrogance, did not pay heed and he fell dead instantly. Nakula’s twin Sahadeva, coming in search of his brother, also found the same lake, saw Nakula dead, and was warned by the voice. But Sahadeva too ignored the crane and died after drinking the water. In the same manner, both, the great Arjuna and Bhimasena met the same fate.

When Yudhisthira , steadfast in dharma, reached the scene, he was mortified to see his dear brothers dead. But when the invisible being told him what had happened, he was not angry and calmly asked for the questions, knowing fully well that this act could have been carried out by a mighty yaksha, or a gandharva to test him.

These were some of the questions asked of, and answered by Yudhisthira.

Question. “What is heavier than Earth, higher than heavens, faster than the wind and more numerous than straws”?

Yudhisthira answered, “One’s mother is heavier than the Earth, one’s father is higher than the heavens, the mind is faster than the wind and our worries are more numerous than straws “.

Question . “Who is the friend of a traveler? Who is the friend of one who is ill and one who is dying”?

Yudhisthira responded, “The friend of a traveler is his companion. The physician is the friend of one who is sick and a dying man’s friend is charity”.

Question . “What is that which, when renounced, makes one lovable? What is that which is renounced makes one happy and wealthy”?

Yudhisthira replied, “Pride, if renounced makes one lovable, renouncing desire one becomes wealthy and to renounce greed is to obtain happiness”.

Question . “What enemy is invincible? What constitutes an incurable disease? What sort of man is noble and what sort is ignoble”?

And Yudhisthira responded, “Anger is the invincible enemy. Covetousness constitutes a disease that is incurable. He is noble who desires the well-being of all creatures, and he is ignoble who is without mercy”.

Question. “Who is truly happy? What is the greatest wonder? What is the path? And what is the news”?

Whereupon Yudhisthira replied, “He who has no debts is truly happy. Day after day countless people die. Yet the living wish to live forever. O Lord, what can be a greater wonder? The truth about Dharma and duty is hid in the cave of our hearts, therefore that alone is the path along which the great have trod. This world full of ignorance is like a pan. The sun is fire, the days and nights are fuel. The months and the seasons constitute the wooden ladle. Time is the cook that is cooking all creatures in that pan (with such aids). This is the news”.

and now to end the story, I quote from the original source, the translated work in English available at the site link pasted at the bottom of this post.

The Yaksha asked,–‘Thou hast, O represser of foes, truly answered all my questions! Tell us now who is truly a man, and what man truly possesseth every kind of wealth.’ Yudhishthira answered,–‘The report of one’s good action reacheth heaven and spreadeth over the earth. As long as that report lasteth, so long is a person to whom the agreeable and the disagreeable, weal and woe, the past and the future, are the same, is said to possess every kind of wealth.’ The Yaksha said,–‘Thou hast, O king truly answered who is a man, and what man possesseth every kind of wealth. Therefore, let one only amongst thy brothers, whom thou mayst wish, get up with life!’ Yudhishthira answered,–‘Let this one that is of darkish hue, whose eyes are red, who is tall like a large Sala tree, whose chest is broad and arms long, let this Nakula, O Yaksha, get up with life! The Yaksha rejoined,-‘This Bhimasena is dear unto thee, and this Arjuna also is one upon whom all of you depend! Why, then, O king dost thou, wish a step-brother to get up with his life! How canst thou, forsaking Bhima whose strength is equal to that of ten thousand elephants, wish Nakula to live? People said that this Bhima was dear to thee. From what motive then dost thou wish a step-brother to revive? Forsaking Arjuna the might of whose arm is worshipped by all the sons of Pandu, why dost thou wish Nakula to revive?’ Yudhishthira said,–‘If virtue is sacrificed, he that sacrificeth it, is himself lost. So virtue also cherisheth the cherisher. Therefore taking care that virtue by being sacrificed may not sacrifice us, I never forsake virtue. Abstention from injury is the highest virtue, and is, I ween, even higher than the highest object of attainment. I endeavour to practise that virtue. Therefore, let Nakula, O Yaksha, revive! Let men know that the king is always virtuous! I will never depart from my duty. Let Nakula, therefore, revive! My father had two wives, Kunti and Madri. Let both of them have children. This is what I wish. As Kunti is to me, so also is Madri. There is no difference between them in my eye. I desire to act equally towards my mothers. Therefore, let Nakula live?’ The Yaksha said,–‘Since abstention from injury is regarded by thee as higher than both profit and pleasure, therefore, let all thy brothers live!”

Mahabharata – Yaksha Prashna

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this:

Rate this: