Great Bharata, Volume I, page 8
Vasu’s eyes opened wide. “Cedi? It is indeed a rich and mighty realm. But Cedi has a ruler. I cannot usurp his throne. I would offend Dharma, as you well know. Granting that your words must come true, and I somehow become Cedi’s king, no ruler on Earth will recognize me as king of kings.”
Great Indra laughed. “Trust me, young prince. You shall be king of Cedi, and emperor of the world. And we will not offend Dharma in the process.”
The astonished young prince again bowed and assured Indra of his trust. The Deva lord said, “Cedi is an excellent country. It abounds in lovely lakes, hills, rivers, and forests – all that Earth offers. Its people are virtuous. They do not lie, even in jest. Cedi boasts a formidable army that you will lead. Indeed, my friend, Cedi surpasses other realms in its virtue, beauty, and treasure.”
“But what will I do, my lord, when I become Cedi’s ruler? Shall I march with the Cedi army against the Asura princes?”
Indra shook his head. “No, not now. For now, you can defend the brāhmaṇas. I will give you special power for that. We cannot oppose Asura princes yet, for they are still consolidating their power and have broken no Law. We too must follow Dharma or we will lose our own power.”
Still wracked by doubts, Prince Vasu wanted to ask, “How will I fight Asuras with superhuman powers?” But fearing he would try Indra’s patience, he kept his head bowed and said nothing.
Indra seemed to read his mind. “I will grant you extraordinary martial power. When they see your power, all the world’s monarchs, those that are not Asuras, shall honor and follow you.”
Vasu wondered what form that martial power would take. Again, Indra replied to his thoughts. “I will grant you a military aircraft like those of the Devas. It is a large crystal aircraft, with palatial comforts. This silent craft moves at unfathomable speed, and will be guided by your will alone. It will fly to any place on Earth, and with it, you will fight the Asuras. I will grant you other powers as well, but use them only to protect the innocent. And we must not panic the world. Speak of the Asura invasion only to your wife, and later to your sons.”
“My wife? Sons?”
“Yes, you will learn about that soon enough. You may also speak the truth to those who are devoted to Viṣṇu. Just remember, your world is in grave danger. I have chosen you to protect it. Always act as my friend, obey my instructions, and you will be victorious.”
“I shall obey,” the prince said with a bow. “I am most grateful.”
Indra nodded. In a grave tone, he gave the prince final instructions. “You renounced the pleasures of this world. In that same spirit of detachment, you must serve the world as a great king. You must never use imperial power to exploit others. Serve the world unselfishly. Your success, your glory, depends on it. Rule as a form of spiritual yoga, without pride or vanity, and you will succeed.”
Prince Vasu bowed, and assured Indra that his instructions would be faithfully followed.
Indra nodded. “Go now to Cedi. Do not doubt my words.”
“I have no doubt,” Vasu said, saluting the Deva lord.
As Prince Vasu gazed in wonder, and marveled at all that Indra had said, the Deva lord rose into the sky. Looking down at Vasu, he said in a voice as deep as thunder, “So be it, prince. Go to Cedi now.” At once, Indra vanished. Vasu remained there for some time staring at that place in the sky where he last saw Indra. What would the prince do now. He knew not the way to Cedi. Even if he found his way there, why would a proud nation accept as their king, a man who looked like an emaciated beggar?
CHAPTER 7
On the bank of the Yamunā River, in a village of brāhmaṇas, Satya-vatī opened her eyes in wonder. She looked at Parā-śara, who had paused his narration. He smiled at her, and suggested that she stand up and stretch, after sitting so long in meditation.
Exhilarated, astonished, she rose to her feet, stretched her arms and back, and walked about the forest to calm herself. After several minutes, she returned to Parā-śara and said, “O sage, I am eager to hear. Please tell me more, unless of course you wish to rest.”
“I am happy to continue,” he said. “Let us follow Prince Vasu to Cedi.”
“Oh yes!” cried Satya-vatī, resuming her yoga āsana, and expectantly waiting for Parā-śara’s words. He began.
Prince Vasu could not imagine how he was to become king of Cedi. Why would the citizens of Cedi accept him? But then Indra’s thundering words echoed in the sky. Go to Cedi now!
Sighing deeply, running his fingers through his wavy hair, the handsome prince cast aside his incredulity and swung into action. Chanting mantras, he extinguished the sacred fire into which he had made daily offerings. He had never intended to return to civilization on this planet, and had no belongings but the ragged cloth that covered him. “I will travel light,” he joked to himself.
Guided only by sun, moon, and stars, he must labor his way through wild and dense forest, in the general direction of Cedi. It would be a long journey. Eventually, he must come to some village or other. There he would ask directions.
But no sooner had Prince Vasu taken his first steps than a forest path, covered in soft, cropped grass, opened before him, a path that was not there before. Indra was truly guiding him.
The prince had spent the last few years in austerity, giving his emaciated body just enough food and water to support his meditation. But new energy filled him. Indeed, as he walked, power filled his limbs. Clarity filled his mind.
Eager to test his new powers, he grabbed a stone and hurled it an impossible distance with startling precision. Great Indra had indeed empowered him. Vasu could not doubt the rest.
After days of travel, wilderness transformed into lush farms, with neat rows of peas, cauliflower, okra, eggplant, beans, and many other vegetables. Varieties of rice, wheat, multicolored millets, and other grains grew in lush abundance.
Black pepper, cinnamon, turmeric, cardamom, sugar cane, mustard, sesame, betel-nut, ginger, and cumin all painted the landscape in bright, geometric colors that flashed in the bright sun.
Wide fields of flowers in radiant colors carpeted swaths of countryside. The heady fragrance of rose, jasmine, champa, and other flowers thrilled the weary traveler.
A sparkling, liquid lattice of rivers, streams, and channels fed crystalline currents to thirsty, many-hued orchards, laden with bananas, mangoes, jackfruit, berries, and myriad other fruits. Even common farm workers dressed well in fine, airy cotton, with plentiful ornaments of gold and semi-precious stones.
Reaching a particularly prosperous village, he confirmed that he had entered the kingdom of Cedi. As Indra had told, the people were kind, affluent, virtuous. These free citizens lived under constitutional monarchy in which every citizen, whether beggar or monarch, must obey Dharma, sacred Law. These free people might soon be ruled by Asura tyrants, yet Indra’s command, and Vasu’s own good sense, forbade him from revealing the perilous state of their land.
Absorbed in observation and deep reflection, he reached the outskirts of Cedi’s splendid capital, Pearl River, in less time than he thought possible. He gazed upon the handsome homes, surrounded by leafy gardens that lined well-shaded avenues. Spacious plazas, paved in fine tiles and cooled by shooting fountains, embellished the crossings. In the city center stood a lofty marble palace of exquisite design, tastefully trimmed in gold. This was Pearl River, the great Cedi capital.
He admired the fine dress of the citizens, and their healthy bodies adorned with jewels and gold. Still dressed in a yogī’s rags, he was unnerved by the frequent stares. He was greatly out of place. Yet he was to be king of this land. Oh Indra, he thought, what is to happen now?
How could he possibly assume the Cedi throne? The people were all kind, but no one seemed to take him seriously, other than finding the sudden appearance of a ragged yogi in the middle of the city to be most unusual. He had renounced his wealth and owned nothing, not even a sword or a bow. He had only Indra’s word that he, Vasu, was to rule this mighty, opulent realm of Cedi.
What was he to do? Perhaps he should knock on the palace door and explain that he was Cedi’s new king. He laughed at the idea. For now, he stayed in the city center where the royal palace loomed above lovely Pearl River.
Suddenly, with a heart-stopping thunderclap, heavy rain rushed down. As he sought shelter, the downpour drenched him. Mud splattered him. He sighed. He had never looked worse, never so wretched and dirty. Indra, god of thunder and rain, had sent him a personal welcome.
Still, the sun darted and flashed through the tropical rain clouds. Spying shelter, Prince Vasu dashed under an artfully carved arcade, built of red sandstone that glistened in the rain and sun. Waiting for the rain to cease, he noticed a large hill rising behind the river. A friendly merchant, sheltering there, asked, “Young man, are you from the capital?”
“No, sir, this is my first time here,” Vasu said.
“Sorry about this unseasonal rain,” the man said. “Both its timing, and the sheer quantity of rain, are most unusual for this region.”
What luck! Was it actually Indra, or some mischievous spirit of nature?
Looking at the prince’s ragged, muddy clothes, the merchant said, “Whoever you may be, welcome to our city. That hill you stare at, behind the river, is Kolā-hala, the uproarious one. You can hear the wind roar by the hill. Some citizens even believe that a dangerous spirit lives within its slopes.”
Perhaps those people were right, for the great hill began to groan and shake most strangely. Crowds suddenly ran about the city center, shouting in utter panic and desperation. Vasu strained to decipher their cries.
“Oh Lord!” cried the merchant. “A girl is trapped up on the hill and it’s about to split in the storm. It’s a landslide! She’ll die in the mud or the river. Who can save her?”
The young girl apparently had not feared the malevolent spirit said to inhabit the hill. She had been sitting on a grassy plateau of Mount Kolā-hala, high above the river. Her life was now in grave danger.
Instantly, Prince Vasu raced toward the river. As he ran, he astonished the people and himself by his superhuman speed. But there was no time to think about that now. Reaching the bank, he raced toward that spot directly across the river from the hill. The girl desperately clung to a tree. The riotous hill quaked, roared, and split. A dislodged slab of slope holding the poor girl slid free and plunged into lovely Pearl River, as if to ravish its waters.
Vasu watched in horror as with a cry, the girl fell headlong into the river’s deep, seething waters. The waves churned violently as if struggling against the hill’s assault.
Vasu would now test his new Indra-given powers. Indeed, he staked his life on them, for he must try to save the girl. He ran to the riverbank and dove into the wild flood.
CHAPTER 8
In a hamlet of sages, on the bank of holy Yamunā, young Satya-vatī cried out in anguish. By the power of Parā-śara’s words, she saw a young girl, not much older than herself, thrashing about in the river, as if in her death throes. Parā-śara honored her concern with a bow of his head and continued narrating. Satya-vatī saw it all.
Grasping the still-conscious girl with one arm, and shouting to her through the din to hold onto him — which she somehow did — Vasu fought his way to shore with his other arm, astonished at his own power. Indra had not failed him.
As he emerged from the river, carrying the girl, deafening cheers greeted him from the swelling crowds. Prince Vasu carried the girl to higher ground, placing her gently on soft grass. Her eyes were closed but she breathed.
The rain stopped as quickly as it came, and the tropical sun shone brightly. Vasu gently pushed her silken locks from her lovely face and prayed. She opened her eyes, startled to see a bearded face, with long, tangled hair, staring down at her. She tried to hold him in her gaze, and to thank him, but strength failed her. Vasu entreated her to rest and conserve her energy. She faintly nodded her agreement, parted her lips, and gasped, “Thank you. You saved my life.”
He shook his head, told her that God had saved her, and urged her again to conserve her strength. But she would speak. “Who are you?” she whispered faintly.
“I am Prince Vasu, son of Sudhanu, and grandson of great Kuru. And I am your faithful servant. Please rest.”
She smiled faintly, and in a barely audible murmur said, “I am honored to meet a Kuru prince. I am Girikā.” He smiled and bowed to her. After a minute, an amused smile spread faintly over her face. He looked at her quizzically, and she whispered in a slightly stronger tone, “Prince, forgive me. At this moment, I am unable to offer you a proper royal reception.”
Too weak to laugh, her eyes filled with affectionate mirth. The crisis having passed, Vasu observed that she was indeed a very lovely and bright young lady. But before he could say something kind and witty, a platoon of armed royal guards rushed toward them, cleared away onlookers, and signaled physicians, who raced to Girikā.
Vasu obeyed the polite requests that he move back and give room to the medical experts. Quickly ascertaining that her condition was not life-threatening, they administered herbal relaxants, and ordered that she be lifted by guards into a royal chariot.
Becoming drowsy under the power of those herbs, the girl’s eyes, before they closed, searched for Vasu. Finding him, she said, “Come to see me,” and fell unconscious. Surrounded by female attendants, she was quickly driven toward the city.
A royal minister approached Vasu, who stood gazing at Girikā’s swiftly vanishing chariot. With respectful inquiries, which Vasu answered with equal decorum, the minister learned that Vasu was a Kuru prince. With much esteem and gratitude, he thanked Vasu for saving the girl’s life. Vasu protested that he had simply done his duty. The minister insisted that Vasu accompany him to the royal palace, and that he stay there as long as he wished as the honored guest of the Queen of Cedi.
Vasu gratefully accepted the invitation, and then said, “Forgive my ignorance, for I have spent several years in the wilderness, engaged in austere yoga. Kindly tell me, who is the queen of Cedi?”
The minister smiled. “You just saved her life. My dear prince, like it or not, you are a national hero in Cedi. News of your most heroic act has surely spread throughout the capital, and by tomorrow, it will be known throughout the nation. For now, I just hope we can get you through the crowds of citizens that are waiting to catch a glimpse of you, and shout their gratitude.”
“It was my great honor to serve your noble queen. And the king, her husband?”
“Oh, we have no king, not yet. Many have tried to win her hand, but our Queen Girikā is not easily impressed with young royals.”
“I see.” Was this Indra’s plan? Vasu had barely arrived in Cedi, yet he had already saved the life of its queen, thus becoming a national hero. Further, he suspected, after a very short acquaintance, that he could love the beautiful young queen. But could she love him?
The minister and a military escort somehow brought him through the cheering crowds. He saw that the people of Cedi loved their queen, and they adored the prince who saved her. It must be Indra.
He was taken to the royal palace. Closely encircled by his military escort, and surrounded by large, tumultuous crowds, he hardly saw or noticed anything around him, till he was actually inside the palace.
The minister took him to an opulent suite, finely furnished. His rooms enjoyed extensive natural light and breezes, and opened onto a lush private garden. The minister asked, with no trace of pride or presumption, if these accommodations were adequate. They certainly were. Having spent a few years in a most austere wilderness, Vasu found his quarters in the Cedi palace to be worthy of Indra himself. Finally, the minister opened a closet door and pointed out a wide row of opulent garments that might please the prince. The prince was pleased indeed. His present duty made his ragged yoga garb obsolete.
The minister excused himself, bowed, and left the Kuru prince to bathe and dress. Vasu spent the evening in the balmy, scented air of his personal garden. He wondered how Girikā was recovering, what she was doing, and what she thought of him.
The next morning, handsomely uniformed palace staff brought him a sumptuous breakfast. He went out to walk in the city, but was soon recognized, and had to flee back to the palace as exuberant crowds of admirers quickly gathered. Soon after, a herald came to the door and delivered a message from Queen Girikā. The queen requested the honor of his presence at lunch. He accepted with warm alacrity and eloquent expressions of gratitude.
When he arrived for what looked to be a royal banquet, the young queen gazed at him approvingly. Gone was the disheveled, scruffy, bearded yogī. In his place came an elegant, handsome Kuru prince. Prince Vasu knew that the queen was duly informed of his identity as Kuru royalty.
Girikā was quickly recovering her strength. She greeted Vasu like an old friend, to his great pleasure, and he reciprocated. She offered him earnest and repeated thanks for saving her life. He was honored to have the chance to render service to Her Majesty.
The young royals seemed engaged in a competition of civilities and appreciation. He took his seat facing young Girikā. After light banter at the sumptuous meal, Girikā invited Vasu to her garden, which spread for acres, with manicured, emerald lawns, fruit- and flower-bearing trees, and gently rolling meadows.
Once they were alone, he sincerely inquired about her health. She assured him that the expert prognosis was for a full, rapid recovery.
“I thank Viṣṇu for that,” he exclaimed spontaneously.
“By all means,” she said, with an inscrutable smile. “Let us thank Viṣṇu.”
Did she speak in earnest? Did she accept Viṣṇu as he did, as the highest cosmic authority? Or did she speak mere diplomacy? Worse yet, could lovely Girikā have sympathy for, or be one of, the Asuras? Were her words meant to mislead him, and gain his confidence? He was strongly inclined toward the first thesis, that she truly accepted Viṣṇu. In that case, she might marry him, fulfilling Indra’s promise. His heart wished and prayed for that. But he must be cautious. The planet, indeed the three worlds, were at stake.
