The Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 1 ADI PARVA SECTION CLIX (Vaka-vadha Parva)

 The Mahabharata of

Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa BOOK 1

ADI PARVA

 SECTION CLIX

(Vaka-vadha Parva)

"Janamejaya asked, 'O first of Brahmanas, what did the Pandavas, those

mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, do after arriving at Ekachakra?'

"Vaisampayana said, 'Those mighty car-warriors, the sons of Kunti, on

arriving at Ekachakra, lived for a short time in the abode of a Brahmana.

Leading an eleemosynary life, they behold (in course of their wanderings)

various delightful forests and earthly regions, and many rivers and

lakes, and they became great favourites of the inhabitants of that town

in consequence of their own accomplishments. At nightfall they placed

before Kunti all they gathered in their mendicant tours, and Kunti used

to divide the whole amongst them, each taking what was allotted to him.

And those heroic chastisers of foes, with their mother, together took one

moiety of the whole, while the mighty Bhima alone took the other moiety.

In this way, O bull of Bharata's race, the illustrious Pandavas lived

there for some time.

"One day, while those bulls of the Bharata race were out on their tour of

mendicancy, it so happened that Bhima was (at home) with (his mother)

Pritha. That day, O Bharata, Kunti heard a loud and heart-rending wail of

sorrow coming from within the apartments of the Brahmana. Hearing the

inmates of the Brahmana's house wailing and indulging in piteous

lamentations, Kunti, O king, from compassion and the goodness of her

heart, could not bear it with indifference. Afflicted with sorrow, the

amiable Pritha, addressing Bhima, said these words full of compassion.

'Our woes assuaged, we are, O son, living happily in the house of this

Brahmana, respected by him and unknown to Dhritarashtra's son. O son, I

always think of the good I should do to this Brahmana, like what they do

that live happily in others' abodes! O child, he is a true man upon whom

favours are never lost. He payeth back to others more than what he

receiveth at their hands. There is no doubt, some affliction hath

overtaken this Brahmana. If we could be of any help to him, we should

then be requiting his services.'

"Hearing these words of his mother, Bhima said, 'Ascertain, O mother the

nature of the Brahmana's distress and whence also it hath arisen.

Learning all about it, relieve it I will however difficult may the task

prove.'

"Vaisampayana continued 'While mother and son were thus talking with each

other, they heard again, O king, another wail of sorrow proceeding from

the Brahmana and his wife. Then Kunti quickly entered the inner

apartments of that illustrious Brahmana, like unto a cow running towards

her tethered calf. She beheld the Brahmana with his wife, son and

daughter, sitting with a woeful face, and she heard the Brahmana say,

'Oh, fie on this earthly life which is hollow as the reed and so

fruitless after all which is based on sorrow and hath no freedom, and

which hath misery for its lot! Life is sorrow and disease; life is truly

a record of misery! The soul is one: but it hath to pursue virtue, wealth

and pleasure. And because these are pursued at one and the same time,

there frequently occurs a disagreement that is the source of much misery.

Some say that salvation is the highest object of our desire. But I

believe it can never be attained. The acquisition of wealth is hell; the

pursuit of wealth is attended with misery; there is more misery after one

has acquired it, for one loves one's possessions, and if any mishap

befalls them, the possessor becomes afflicted with woe. I do not see by

what means I can escape from this danger, nor how I can fly hence, with

my wife to some region free from danger. Remember, O wife, that I

endeavoured to migrate to some other place where we would be happy, but

thou didst not then listen to me. Though frequently solicited by me,

thou, O simple woman, said to me, 'I have been born here, and here have I

grown old; this is my ancestral homestead.' Thy venerable father, O wife,

and thy mother also, have, a long time ago, ascended to heaven. Thy

relations also had all been dead. Oh why then didst thou yet like to live

here? Led by affection for thy relatives thou didst not then hear what I

said. But the time is now come when thou art to witness the death of a

relative. Oh, how sad is that spectacle for me! Or perhaps the time is

come for my own death, for I shall never be able to abandon cruelly one

of my own as long as I myself am alive. Thou art my helpmate in all good

deeds, self-denying and always affectionate unto me as a mother. The gods

have given thee to me as a true friend and thou art ever my prime stay.

Thou hast, by my parents, been made the participator in my domestic

concerns. Thou art of pure lineage and good disposition, the mother of

children, devoted to me, and so innocent; having chosen and wedded thee

with due rites, I cannot abandon thee, my wife, so constant in thy vows,

to save my life. How shall I myself be able to sacrifice my son a child

of tender years and yet without the hirsute appendages (of manhood)? How

shall I sacrifice my daughter whom I have begotten myself, who hath been

placed, as a pledge, in my hands by the Creator himself for bestowal on a

husband and through whom I hope to enjoy, along with my ancestors, the

regions attainable by those only that have daughters' sons? Some people

think that the father's affection for a son is greater; others, that his

affection for a daughter is greater, mine, however, is equal. How can I

be prepared to give up the innocent daughter upon whom rest the regions

of bliss obtainable by me in after life and my own lineage and perpetual

happiness? If, again, I sacrifice myself and go to the other world, I

should scarcely know any peace, for, indeed, it is evident that, left by

me these would not be able to support life. The sacrifice of any of these

would be cruel and censurable. On the other hand, if I sacrifice myself,

these, without me, will certainly perish. The distress into which I have

fallen is great; nor do I know the means of escape. Alas, what course

shall I take today with my near ones. It is well that I should die with

all these, for I can live no longer.'"

SECTION CLX

(Vaka-vadha Parva continued)

"Vaisampayana said, "On hearing these words of the Brahmana, his wife

said, 'Thou shouldst not, O Brahmana, grieve like an ordinary man. Nor is

this the time for mourning. Thou hast learning; thou knowest that all men

are sure to die; none should grieve for that which is inevitable. Wife,

son, and daughter, all these are sought for one's own self. As thou art

possessed of a good understanding, kill thou thy sorrows. I will myself

go there. This indeed, is the highest and the eternal duty of a woman,

viz., that by sacrificing her life she should seek the good of her

husband. Such an act done by me will make thee happy, and bring me fame

in this world and eternal bliss hereafter. This, indeed, is the highest

virtue that I tell thee, and thou mayest, by this, acquire both virtue

and happiness. The object for which one desireth a wife hath already been

achieved by thee through me. I have borne thee a daughter and a son and

thus been freed from the debt I had owed thee. Thou art well able to

support and cherish the children, but I however, can never support and

cherish them like thee. Thou art my life, wealth, and lord; bereft of

thee, how shall these children of tender years--how also shall I myself,

exist? Widowed and masterless, with two children depending on me, how

shall I, without thee, keep alive the pair, myself leading an honest

life? If the daughter of thine is solicited (in marriage) by persons

dishonourable and vain and unworthy of contracting an alliance with thee,

how shall I be able to protect the girl? Indeed, as birds seek with

avidity for meat that hath been thrown away on the ground, so do men

solicit a woman that hath lost her husband. O best of Brahmanas,

solicited by wicked men, I may waver and may not be able to continue in

the path that is desired by all honest men. How shall I be able to place

this sole daughter of thy house--this innocent girl--in the way along

which her ancestors have always walked? How shall I then be able to

impart unto this child every desirable accomplishment to make him

virtuous as thyself, in that season of want when I shall become

masterless? Overpowering myself who shall be masterless, unworthy persons

will demand (the hand of) this daughter of thine, like Sudras desiring to

hear the Vedas. And if I bestow not upon them this girl possessing thy

blood and qualities, they may even take her away by force, like crows

carrying away the sacrificial butter. And beholding thy son become so

unlike to thee, and thy daughter placed under the control of some

unworthy persons, I shall be despised in the world by even persons that

are dishonourable, and I will certainly die. These children also, bereft

of me and thee, their father, will, I doubt not, perish like fish when

the water drieth up. There is no doubt that bereft of thee the three will

perish: therefore it behoveth thee to sacrifice me. O Brahmana, persons

conversant with morals have said that for women that have borne children,

to predecease their lords is an act of the highest merit. Ready am I to

abandon this son and this daughter, these my relations, and life itself,

for thee. For a woman to be ever employed in doing agreeable offices to

her lord is a higher duty than sacrifices, asceticism, vows, and

charities of every description. The act, therefore, which I intend to

perform is consonant with the highest virtue and is for thy good and that

of thy race. The wise have declared that children and relatives and wife

and all things held dear are cherished for the purpose of liberating

one's self from danger and distress. One must guard one's wealth for

freeing one's self from danger, and it is by his wealth that he should

cherish and protect his wife. But he must protect his own self both by

(means of) his wife and his wealth. The learned have enunciated the truth

that one's wife, son, wealth, and house, are acquired with the intention

of providing against accidents, foreseen or unforeseen. The wise have

also said that all one's relations weighed against one's own self would

not be equal unto one's self. Therefore, revered sir, protect thy own

self by abandoning me. O, give me leave to sacrifice myself, and cherish

thou my children. Those that are conversant with the morals have, in

their treatises, said, that women should never be slaughtered and that

Rakshasas are not ignorant of the rules of morality. Therefore, while it

is certain that the Rakshasa will kill a man, it is doubtful whether he

will kill a woman. It behoveth thee, therefore, being conversant with the

rules of morality, to place me before the Rakshasa. I have enjoyed much

happiness, have obtained much that is agreeable to me, and have also

acquired great religious merit. I have also obtained from thee children

that are so dear to me. Therefore, it grieveth not me to die. I have

borne thee children and have also grown old; I am ever desirous of doing

good to thee; remembering all these I have come to this resolution. O

revered sir, abandoning me thou mayest obtain another wife. By her thou

mayest again acquire religious merit. There is no sin in this. For a man

polygamy is an act of merit, but for a woman it is very sinful to betake

herself to a second husband after the first. Considering all this, and

remembering too that sacrifice of thy own self is censurable, O, liberate

today without loss of time thy own self, thy race, and these thy children

(by abandoning me).'

"Vaisampayana continued, 'Thus addressed by her, O Bharata, the Brahmana

embraced her, and they both began to weep in silence, afflicted with

grief.'"

SECTION CLXI

(Vaka-vadha Parva continued)

"Vaisampayana said, 'On hearing these words of her afflicted parents, the

daughter was filled with grief, and she addressed them, saying, 'Why are

you so afflicted and why do you so weep, as if you have none to look

after you? O, listen to me and do what may be proper. There is little

doubt that you are bound in duty to abandon me at a certain time. Sure to

abandon me once, O, abandon me now and save every thing at the expense of

me alone. Men desire to have children, thinking that children would save

them (in this world as well as in the region hereafter). O, cross the

stream of your difficulties by means of my poor self, as if I were a

raft. A child rescueth his parents in this and the other regions;

therefore is the child called by the learned Putra (rescuer). The

ancestors desire daughter's sons from me (as a special means of

salvation). But (without waiting for my children) I myself will rescue

them by protecting the life of my father. This my brother is of tender

years, so there is little doubt that he will perish if thou diest now. If

thou, my father, diest and my brother followeth thee, the funeral cake of

the Pitris will be suspended and they will be greatly injured. Left

behind by my father and brother, and by my mother also (for she will not

survive her husband and son) I shall be plunged deeper and deeper in woe

and ultimately perish in great distress. There can be little doubt that

if thou escape from this danger as also my mother and infant brother,

then thy race and the (ancestral) cake will be perpetuated. The son is

one's own self; the wife is one's friend; the daughter, however, is the

source of trouble. Do thou save thyself, therefore, by removing that

source of trouble, and do thou thereby set me in the path of virtue. As I

am a girl, O father, destitute of thee, I shall be helpless and plunged

in woe, and shall have to go everywhere. It is therefore that I am

resolved to rescue my father's race and share the merit of that act by

accomplishing this difficult task. If thou, O best of Brahmanas, goest

thither (unto the Rakshasa), leaving me here, then I shall be very much

pained. Therefore, O father, be kind to me. O thou best of men, for our

sake, for that of virtue and also thy race, save thyself, abandoning me,

whom at one time thou shall be constrained to part from. There need be no

delay, O father, in doing that which is inevitable. What can be more

painful than that, when thou hast ascended to heaven, we shall have to go

about begging our food, like dogs, from strangers. But if thou art

rescued with thy relations from these difficulties, I shall then live

happily in the region of the celestials. It hath been heard by us that if

after bestowing thy daughter in this way, thou offerest oblations to the

gods and the celestials, they will certainly be propitious.'

"Vaisampayana continued, 'The Brahmana and his wife, hearing these

various lamentations of their daughter, became sadder than before and the

three began to weep together. Their son, then, of tender years, beholding

them and their daughter thus weeping together, lisped these words in a

sweet tone, his eyes having dilated with delight, 'Weep not, O father,

nor thou, O mother, nor thou O sister!' And smilingly did the child

approach each of them, and at last taking up a blade of grass said in

glee, 'With this will I slay the Rakshasa who eateth human beings!'

Although all of them had been plunged in woe, yet hearing what the child

lisped so sweetly, joy appeared on their faces. Then Kunti thinking that

to be the proper opportunity, approached the group and said these words.

Indeed, her words revived them as nectar reviveth a person that is dead.'"

SECTION CLXII

(Vaka-vadha Parva continued)

'Kunti said, 'I desire to learn from you the cause of this grief, for I

will remove it, if possible.'

"The Brahmana replied, 'O thou of ascetic wealth, thy speech is, indeed

worthy of thee. But this grief is incapable of being removed by any human

being. Not far from this town, there liveth a Rakshasa of the name of

Vaka, which cannibal is the lord of this country and town. Thriving on

human flesh, that wretched Rakshasa endued with great strength ruleth

this country. He being the chief of the Asuras, this town and the country

in which it is situate are protected by his might. We have no fear from

the machinations of any enemy, or indeed from any living soul. The fee,

however, fixed for that cannibal is his food, which consists of a

cart-load of rice, two buffaloes, and a human being who conveyeth them

unto him. One after another, the house-holders have to send him this

food. The turn, however, cometh to a particular family at intervals of

many long years. If there are any that seek to avoid it, the Rakshasa

slayeth them with their children and wives and devoureth them all. There

is, in this country, a city called Vetrakiya, where liveth the king of

these territories. He is ignorant of the science of government, and

possessed of little intelligence, he adopts not with care any measure by

which these territories may be rendered safe for all time to come. But we

certainly deserve it all, inasmuch as we live within the dominion of that

wretched and weak monarch in perpetual anxiety. Brahmanas can never be

made to dwell permanently within the dominions of any one, for they are

dependent on nobody, they live rather like birds ranging all countries in

perfect freedom. It hath been said that one must secure a (good) king,

then a wife, and then wealth. It is by the acquisition of these three

that one can rescue his relatives and sons. But as regards the

acquisition of these three, the course of my actions hath been the

reverse. Hence, plunged into a sea of danger, am suffering sorely. That

turn, destructive of one's family, hath now devolved upon me. I shall

have to give unto the Rakshasa as his fee the food of the aforesaid

description and one human being to boot. I have no wealth to buy a man

with. I cannot by any means consent to part with any one of my family,

nor do I see any way of escape from (the clutches of) that Rakshasa. I am

now sunk in an ocean of grief from which there is no escape. I shall go

to that Rakshasa today, attended by all my family in order that that

wretch might devour us all at once'"

SECTION CLXIII

(Vaka-vadha Parva continued)

"Kunti said, Grieve not at all, O Brahmana, on account of this danger. I

see a way by which to rescue thee from that Rakshasa. Thou hast only one

son, who, besides, is of very tender years, also only one daughter, young

and helpless, so I do not like that any of these, or thy wife, or even

thyself should go unto the Rakshasa. I have five sons, O Brahmana, let

one of them go, carrying in thy behalf tribute of that Rakshasa.'

"Hearing this, the Brahmana replied, 'To save my own life I shall never

suffer this to be done. I shall never sacrifice, to save myself, the life

of a Brahmana or of a guest. Indeed, even those that are of low origin

and of sinful practices refuse to do (what thou askest me to do). It is

said that one should sacrifice one's self and one's offspring for the

benefit of a Brahmana. I regard this advice excellent and I like to

follow it too. When I have to choose between the death of a Brahmana and

that of my own, I would prefer the latter. The killing of a Brahmana is

the highest sin, and there is no expiation for it. I think a reluctant

sacrifice of one's own self is better than the reluctant sacrifice of a

Brahmana. O blessed lady, in sacrificing myself I do not become guilty of

self-destruction. No sin can attach to me when another will take my life.

But if I deliberately consent to the death of a Brahmana, it would be a

cruel and sinful act, from the consequence of which there is no escape.

The learned have said that the abandonment of one who hath come to thy

house or sought thy protection, as also the killing of one who seeketh

death at thy hands, is both cruel and sinful. The illustrious among those

conversant with practices allowable in seasons of distress, have before

now said that one should never perform an act that is cruel and

censurable. It is well for me that I should today perish myself with my

wife, but I would never sanction the death of a Brahmana.'

"Kunti said, 'I too am firmly of opinion, O Brahmana, that Brahmanas

should ever be protected. As regards myself, no son of mine would be less

dear to me even if I had a hundred instead of the five I have. But this

Rakshasa will not be able to kill my son, for that son of mine is endued

with great prowess and energy, and skilled in mantras. He will faithfully

deliver to the Rakshasa his food, but will, I know to a certainty, rescue

himself. I have seen before many mighty Rakshasas of huge bodies engaged

in combat with my heroic son and killed too by him. But, O Brahmana, do

not disclose this fact to anybody, for if it be known, persons desirous

of obtaining this power, will, from curiosity, always trouble my sons.

The wise have said that if my son imparteth any knowledge, without the

assent of his preceptor, unto any person, my son himself will no longer

be able to profit by that knowledge.'

"Thus addressed by Pritha, the Brahmana with his wife became exceedingly

glad and assented to Kunti's speech, which was unto them as nectar. Then

Kunti, accompanied by the Brahmana, went unto the son of Vayu (Bhima) and

asked him to accomplish (that difficult task). Bhima replied unto them,

saying, 'So be it.'"