PENGUIN BOOKS

THE UPSIDE-DOWN KING

Sudha Murty was born in 1950 in Shiggaon, north Karnataka. She did her
MTech in computer science, and is now the chairperson of the Infosys
Foundation. A prolific writer in English and Kannada, she has written
novels, technical books, travelogues, collections of short stories and non-
fictional pieces, and eight bestselling books for children. Her books have
been translated into all the major Indian languages. Sudha Murty is the
recipient of the R.K. Narayan Award for Literature (2006), the Padma Shri
(2006), the Attimabbe Award from the Government of Karnataka for
excellence in Kannada literature (2011) and, most recently, the Lifetime
Achievement Award at the 2018 Crossword Book Awards.
Also in Penguin by Sudha Murty
How I Taught My Grandmother to Read and
Other Stories
The Magic Drum and Other Favourite Stories
The Bird with Golden Wings
Grandma’s Bag of Stories
The Magic of the Lost Temple
The Serpent’s Revenge: Unusual Tales from
the Mahabharata
The Man from the Egg: Unusual Tales about
the Trinity
 SUDHA
MURTY
THE
UPSIDE-DOWN
KING
Unusual Tales about
Rama and Krishna
Illustrations by Priyankar Gupta

PENGUIN BOOKS
 To Mattur Nandakumara,
who has worked tirelessly for the preservation of
Indian culture on foreign soil
 Contents

Acknowledgements

Introduction

RAGHUNANDANAM RAMA

I. The Solar Dynasty

1. The Man in the Anthill

2. A Measurement of Time

3. From the Heavens to the Earth

4. The Upside-Down King

5. The Promise of a Promise

6. The Tree of Gold

7. Ravana, the Complex Asura

8. How Not to Outsmart a God

9. Hanuman

10. The Ball of Sand and the Five Witnesses

11. The Power of a Name

12. The End of Rama

13. Time Travel

14. Ramayana in Different Countries

KRISHNAM VANDE JAGATGURU

II. The Lunar Dynasty

15. The Diamond That Produced Gold

16. Krishna and His Enemies

17. Visions of a Blind Grandmother

18. The Groom in a Dream

19. Krishna’s Consorts

20. Three and a Half Diamonds

21. The Demon Who Spat

22. The Sage Who Wanted Water

23. The End of Krishna

 Acknowledgements

I have known Mattur Nandakumara, or Nanda, for a long time. He is an

exceptional person. His admirable detachment from money and passionate
attachment to India and its culture has made a great mark in the UK,
especially in London. For the past thirty years, his tremendous work has
helped many people in India and abroad learn more about the culture and
heritage of this beautiful country. It is due to his tireless efforts that today
Bharatiya Vidya Bhavan, London, is a vibrant cultural hub of India. I
consider him a true gentleman, a great connoisseur of arts and, above all, a
good human being.
I am grateful to my trusted and brilliant editor, Shrutkeerti Khurana, and
to Dr Praveen Murthy for his kind suggestions. I would like to thank
Hemali Sodhi, Sohini Mitra and Piya Kapur from Penguin Random House
India for all their effort with this book.
Most of all, I would like to thank those young readers who are fascinated
by the rich mythology of our country, which unites us all.
 Introduction

In India, Lord Rama and Lord Krishna play an important role in the daily
lives of people. Irrespective of the state one is in or the language spoken in
that region, everybody knows them! It is not surprising then that milestones
from their personal lives are celebrated in various ways. For example, the
festival of Ramanavami marks the day of Lord Rama’s birth, and
Vijayadashami or Dussehra is famously celebrated to recall the victory of
Rama over the misguided Ravana. Meanwhile, Krishnashtami or
Janmashtami is the day Lord Krishna was born, and Diwali is known to be
the day that Krishna killed Narakasura.
Due to their association with Rama and Krishna, places like Ayodhya,
Mathura, Dwarka, Govardhan, Panchavati and Chitrakoot have become
popular pilgrimage destinations.
Both Rama and Krishna are believed to be the human incarnations of
Lord Vishnu, the eternal protector; yet, there is a stark difference between
their personalities and approaches.
Rama was born in Treta yuga, the second of the four eras that define the
age of the world. His stories are often depicted in paintings, literature,
dance and music. The epic Ramayana exists in many versions in different
languages and with different titles, such as Valmiki Ramayana, Adbhuta
Ramayana, Uttara Ramayana, Tulsi Ramayana, Kamba Ramayana, Jain
Ramayana, Pampa Ramayana, and so on. Despite the differences between
the versions, the core of the story remains the same.
Rama is worshipped as the ideal man, son and ruler. He was an obedient
son and very devoted to his wife, Sita. His reign, Rama Rajya, is believed to
have been perfect, with no crime, misery, poverty or corruption. His was a
kingdom of peace and happiness, where the subjects were taken great care
of by their king, and they in turn loved and worshipped him akin to God.
Such were the tales of Rama’s exemplary archery that it was said that an
arrow shot by him was certain to reach its destination, no matter what that
might be. The word ramabana derives from this legend, indicating that the
event in context is certain to occur.
Rama was highly dharmic and made all his decisions based on right and
wrong as accorded by his dharma. He believed that like an ascetic, a ruler
too must lead his life completely detached from worldly thoughts and
desires; only then could he be a fair and just king. However, this belief
came at a grave personal cost—estrangement from his beloved wife, Sita.
Lord Krishna, however, was very different from Lord Rama. He was
born in Dvapara yuga. Though born a royal, he was taken away by his
father in the middle of the night to save him from his uncle, who planned to
kill him at birth. His father handed over his precious son to his friend Nanda
and Nanda’s wife, Yashoda. Hence, Krishna grew up in the village of Gokul
as a cowherd. Eventually, his destiny led him to Mathura, where he slayed
his cruel uncle Kamsa. Despite the opportunity to become king of the land,
Krishna did not accept it. Later, he moved his clan to the kingdom of
Dwarka to save his people from war, misery and certain death at the hands
of his enemy Jarasandha. In the great war of Mahabharata, Krishna was
Arjuna’s charioteer and guide; he never participated in the actual war even
though he played a critical role in the outcome.
Krishna’s story is described in the Bhagavata, which details the lives of
all the avatars of Lord Vishnu. Just like the Ramayana, it has many versions
in different languages.
Unlike Rama, Krishna is perceived to be a romantic, much loved by
everyone, and exuding a certain godlike charm that enthrals young and old
alike. Songs and hymns often tell tales of his Raasleela (his dance with the
gopis), his love for Radha and his unique camaraderie with the Pandavas.
People adore Krishna because of his compassion, the happiness associated
with him, his charm and the magical melody of his flute. He frequently
comes across as a ray of hope.
We have all heard commonly told stories of the lives of Lord Rama and
Lord Krishna. Many versions of these abound and can be easily found in
books and on the Internet. I wanted to delve a little deeper and bring out the
tales of their human side, instead of just reflecting on them as gods. And
this is why you now hold this book in your hands.
 The Solar Dynasty

India has been ruled by many dynasties through the course of history. One
of the most prominent ones is the Suryavamsha, or the Sun dynasty. This
vamsha is also known as the Ikshvaku dynasty. Ikshvaku literally translates
to ‘something that is pleasing to the eye’. Many important kings and princes
were born in this dynasty, such as Vishvamitra, Harishchandra, Kakutsa and
Rama.
Once, there was a king named Khatwanga, who was a powerful ruler.
Also known as Dilip, he was handsome and brave.
One day, when Dilip ran into the divine cow Kamadhenu, he forgot to
pay his respects to her. Kamadhenu, because of her gentle nature, did not
notice, but the gods were offended and thought she should have been
treated better by the king. They said, ‘A cow provides milk and is like a
second mother to humans. Not respecting a cow is as bad as not respecting
your mother. Dilip must understand that. Until such time that he does, he
will not have any children of his own.’
As decreed, Dilip remained childless for a long time. It bothered him no
end, and he often wondered, ‘Who will succeed me?’
So one day, Dilip went up to his guru, Sage Vasishtha, who was a
saptarishi. He asked his teacher, ‘Guruji, will I be blessed with a
successor?’
The sage did not answer his question directly. Instead he told Dilip, ‘I am
giving you my precious cow, Nandini. You must take care of her. You must
be sincere and protect her, and she must be fed only by you or your wife.
You must not delegate this task to your servants and hence, you should live
away from your palace for a while because your kingly responsibilities
there will not allow you to take care of her. If your devotion to Nandini is
pure and complete, and you succeed in taking good care of her, your desire
may be fulfilled.’
So Dilip accepted the sage’s advice and moved with his wife,
Sudakshana, to a small hut in a forest, where he devoted himself to the cow.
He bathed her every day and took her to graze, while his wife cleaned her
shed, milked her and looked after Nandini’s other needs. As time passed,
the bond between Dilip and Nandini developed to such an extent that they
became inseparable.
One day, Nandini strolled ahead of Dilip to graze in grounds they hadn’t
been to before. Out of nowhere, a fierce lion appeared, ready to attack
Nandini. Immediately, Dilip took out his bow and arrow and stood in front
of Nandini to protect her.
To Dilip’s surprise, the lion spoke to him in a human voice. ‘O King
Dilip, I eat cows to survive. It is part of nature’s cycle. One animal is food
for another, and that is how the universe works. Please move aside and let
me eat.’
 Dilip refused to budge, and replied, ‘You are right about the balance of
life. But I have given my word to my teacher that I will protect Nandini,
and I will fulfil that duty under all circumstances.’
The discussion continued for a long time, but they couldn’t reach an
agreement.
Dilip finally said, ‘If your hunger is uncontrollable, then eat me. It
doesn’t matter if I die. But you must let Nandini go unharmed.’
The lion roared with impatience. ‘Don’t be foolish, O King! You are a
great warrior and an asset to your kingdom. Your subjects depend on you. If
your cow dies, you can always get another one. But if you die without an
heir, it will be tough for your kingdom to survive.’
Dilip understood the weight of the lion’s words, but he had promised to
be devoted to Nandini. He remained firm in his decision and did not budge.
Suddenly, the lion vanished, lightning flashed across the sky and a voice
said from the heavens, ‘Dilip, I am really touched by your love for Nandini
and the promise that you have upheld. May you be blessed with all the good
things life has to offer.’
Stunned by this turn of events, Dilip returned to his hut with Nandini.
Sage Vasishtha stood there waiting for him. ‘You have passed the test,
my dear child,’ he said with a smile. ‘In the past, you had insulted a cow by
ignoring her, and today, you were willing to lay down your life for one.
May you obtain whatever your heart desires. Now, you may return to your
capital.’
Dilip bid goodbye to Nandini with sadness and affection, and returned
with Sudakshana to his capital.
The following year, the royal couple was blessed with a son, whom they
named Raghu.
Raghu was an extraordinary boy, blessed with striking looks, bravery and
a good disposition. When he grew up and succeeded his father to the throne,
he conquered many lands and became such a famous king that
Suryavamsha also came to be known as Raghuvamsha.
Time passed and Raghu had a son named Aja, who grew up to be a kind-
hearted man.
One day, a letter arrived, inviting the prince to attend the swayamvara of
the princess of the Vidarbha kingdom, Indumati. In those days, the tradition
of swayamvara was prevalent—a ceremony for a princess to choose the
most suitable husband for herself. Young princes would assemble in the
hope of winning the princess’s hand in marriage. Their accomplishments
would be announced, and the princess would then choose her suitor.
The moment Indumati saw Aja, she garlanded him, thereby declaring her
choice. The two were wed, and soon after, Aja returned with his bride to
rule his kingdom.
In time, Aja and Indumati had a son named Dasharatha.
One day, Indumati and Aja were taking a stroll in the royal gardens,
when suddenly a flower fell from the heavens and landed on Indumati.
Instantly, she dropped to the ground, dead. Aja was heartbroken—his
beloved wife had been taken from him. His grief knew no bounds as he bent
over her, sobbing.
Just then, the travelling sage Narada appeared. He was a sincere devotee
of Lord Vishnu and could traverse through different realms. He told Aja
that the flower was from his tambura.
‘That flower was a special one, Aja, and your wife was no ordinary
woman. She was an apsara who was cursed to take human form. She could
only return to her former state when a flower from my tambura touched her
head. Now her curse has been lifted, and she has gone back to the heavens.’
Aja understood the sage’s words, but he still missed his wife terribly.
Grief-stricken, he gave up his kingdom, handed over the crown to his son,
Dasharatha, and left the palace to live out the rest of his days in the forest.
Dasharatha had three wives: Kausalya, the princess of Kosala; Sumitra,
the princess of Maghada; and Kaikeyi, the princess of Kaikeya.
Dasharatha’s wives bore him four sons: Rama from Kausalya, Lakshmana
and Shatrughna from Sumitra, and Bharata from Kaikeyi.
The following stories are dedicated to Dasharatha’s eldest son, Rama.
 The Man in the Anthill

Ratnakara was a highway robber who would hide near roadsides and loot
all the travellers who passed by on horseback or on foot. If people resisted
his attack or tried to run away, Ratnakara would murder them and take away
their belongings. He shared the wealth he thus obtained with his large
family.
One day, while Ratnakara was crouched behind a bush waiting for his
next victim, he saw a sage pass by him. The sage wore saffron robes and
carried a tambura in one hand. He was busy singing to himself as he
walked. Ratnakara thought, ‘The man must be carrying something valuable
in the tambura, and has disguised himself as a sage to discourage thieves
from stealing from him.’
So he came out from behind the bush and stood in the sage’s path.
‘Give me all you have!’ he yelled.
The sage smiled. ‘I only carry God’s name with me. So I can share all my
learning with you if you like.’
‘Don’t get smart with me. Where are you coming from, and what is really
in your tambura?’ Ratnakara barked.
‘My name is Narada, and I am coming from Lord Vishnu’s house. I don’t
know where I’m headed. I will go to the home of whoever remembers me,’
the sage replied pleasantly.
The strange answer intrigued Ratnakara. Unlike others, this man wasn’t
scared of him.
Narada spoke again with affection. ‘O innocent man, I know that you
don’t realize what you are doing or the sins that you are stacking up. Tell
me, why are you wasting this life? You should use it to become a better
person.’
Ratnakara didn’t understand a word. ‘What sins am I collecting?’ he
asked, nonplussed.
‘When you hurt somebody intentionally, you are committing a sin. You
will have to pay for it eventually,’ Narada explained.
‘But I am not doing this just for myself. I share what I collect with my
family,’ replied Ratnakara.
‘May I ask you a question?’ asked Narada.
Ratnakara did not respond but continued to stare at him.
‘If you are also collecting sins along with wealth, will your family
members share that with you too?’
‘Yes, of course,’ Ratnakara replied confidently.
‘Go home now and ask your family if they will share the punishment for
your sins. Until then, I will wait here,’ said Narada.
‘And while I’m gone, you will run away,’ retorted Ratnakara.
‘I will not go anywhere. But if you don’t believe me, then tie me to this
tree. I will wait here till you bring me your family’s answer.’
Ratnakara had never seen such a bold traveller before. Narada was
confident and happy, and didn’t seem perturbed by his threats at all.
Something about the sage attracted Ratnakara.
Hurriedly, he went home. When his wife, children and relatives saw him
come back early, they were happy, thinking that Ratnakara had chanced
upon a huge loot. But when they saw that he was empty-handed, the
disappointment was starkly visible on their faces.
Ratnakara stood in front of his family and addressed everyone who was
present. ‘I have just learnt from a traveller named Narada that hurting
people and stealing from them is a sin. I must have already piled up many
sins by now, and some day I will have to face the punishment too. I did
what I did not just for me but also for all of you. So you are also my
partners in crime and must share my sins. Do you agree?’
At first, everyone was silent. Then someone said, ‘Ratnakara, you rob
people for us, and we share the wealth with you. But we have never asked
you to hurt anyone in the process. How you obtained that wealth was your
decision, so we will not share your sins with you.’
Ratnakara was taken aback. Speechless, he turned to his children. Taking
a cue from the elders, they too denied any share in their father’s sins.
 Saddened, Ratnakara finally looked at his wife. He was confident that his
life partner would share his losses as much as his gains, and help reduce the
burden of the sins on his soul. But she too shook her head.
Ratnakara realized the truth in the sage’s words and ran back to him. He
found Narada sitting under a tree chanting, ‘Narayana! Narayana!’
Ratnakara fell at his feet and began to cry. ‘O Great Sage! You have
opened my eyes. Not one person wants to share the load of my sins. I want
to get away from this lie of a life. Tell me how to atone for my misdeeds.
Please guide me.’
Narada held him by his shoulders. ‘Child, mistakes are bound to take
place if one doesn’t receive proper guidance,’ he said gently. ‘Now focus on
God and meditate. Eventually, you will understand the meaning of life. Just
chant the word Rama repeatedly. It is, after all, the name of the lord.’
Ratnakara tried his best to say ‘Rama’, but his tongue was unable to
pronounce the pure name of God, no matter how much he tried.
After some time, Narada suggested, ‘Let’s try something else. Do you
know anyone called Mara?’
‘Yes, I had a friend named Mara,’ Ratnakara replied.
‘Excellent! Then just chant that repeatedly,’ said Narada with a smile. He
stood up, bid Ratnakara goodbye and departed.
Ratnakara found a comfortable place to sit and began chanting, ‘Mara
Mara Mara Mara.’ Soon, it seemed as if he were chanting, ‘Rama Rama
Rama Rama.’
Years went by and an anthill began growing around Ratnakara. But he
did not stop chanting and remained lost in meditation. Seeing this, people
started referring to Ratnakara as Valmiki, or the man within the valmika, an
anthill. As more years passed, Ratnakara’s original name was forgotten, and
he came to be known only as Valmiki.
At last, Narada came to see him and removed the anthill. Valmiki finally
opened his eyes. Narada blessed him and encouraged him to start an
ashram. Soon, Valmiki’s fame as an enlightened sage spread far and wide.
 One day, Valmiki was heading to the river Ganga for a bath when he
came across a stunning stream called Tamasa. Valmiki thought, ‘The water
is so clear—just like a pure mind. I think I will have a bath here today.’
He placed his things at the base of a big tree on the banks of the water
and happened to notice a pair of beautiful white cranes. He smiled at the
peaceful sight.
Suddenly, an arrow struck the male crane and the bird died. Filled with
agony, the female crane screeched and cried until it also died of grief and
shock. Valmiki’s heart burst with pain, and anger coursed through his body.
He looked around to see who had shot the bird and spotted a hunter with a
bow and an arrow a few feet away. Furious, he cried out,

Maa nishada pratishtham tvamagamaha shaasvati

samaaha
Yat kraunchamithunaadekam avadhi kaamamohitam.
O hunter! May you suffer forever and find no rest,
because you have killed one of the most devoted and
passionate bird couples.

Later, when Valmiki composed the Ramayana with the blessings of Lord
Brahma, the above became the first shloka of the epic.
Today, Valmiki is respected as the first poet or adikavi, and the
Ramayana is called the first kavya or composition (adikavya).
 A Measurement of Time

Once, there lived a generous king named Nimi, who ruled the kingdom of
Videha. The capital of Videha was the city of Mithila.
One day, Nimi decided to perform a yagna and requested Sage Vasishtha
to be the chief priest. The sage, however, declined. ‘I apologize, but I have a
prior commitment with Lord Indra that same day. Please go ahead and I will
join the yagna a little later.’
Nimi requested Sage Gautama to start the yagna, so that Sage Vasishtha
could take over when he arrived.
As fate would have it, Nimi forgot to inform Sage Vasishtha about the
time of the yagna. By the time Vasishtha arrived, the preparations were
almost at an end, without any input from Sage Vasishtha. Vasishtha was
very upset and admonished Nimi. ‘You are an irresponsible king. To
perform a yagna with sincerity, proper preparation must be done, and the
person performing it must be ready. That takes time. How could you forget
to inform me of the time?’
Nimi accepted his fault. ‘O Sage, your anger is justified. Your clan has
been the guru of my clan for generations. It is a position most sacred to my
lineage. In my hurry and carelessness, I have committed a grave mistake. I
have offended you and been a great disappointment to my ancestors. This
offense is so great that I do not wish to live any more.’
The sage became thoughtful. The king had made a terrible mistake, and
Vasishtha understood his plight.
The king continued, ‘O Sage, I have just one request: help me so that I
may see the world through the eyes of my subjects and be with them every
day even after I leave this perishable body.’
With a nod, Vasishtha transformed the king into eyelashes. Eyelashes are
called nimi in Sanskrit, and since it only takes a second to blink, this unit of
time came to be known as nimisha (a second).
 From the Heavens to the Earth

King Bahu of the Ikshvaku dynasty was not concerned about the welfare of
his subjects or the protection of his kingdom. He would often be found
drunk or gambling, or both, and in no state to rule.
Knowing that the kingdom was weak, another king waged a war against
Bahu, who escaped to the forest with his two wives and took shelter in the
ashram of the sage Bhargava. To make matters worse, one of his wives was
pregnant, and during this stressful time, the other wife became jealous and
poisoned the first, despite knowing that she was with child. However, Sage
Bhargava learnt of this and rushed to the woman’s rescue. He did his best to
drain the poison from her body, but it could not be removed completely, and
the baby was born with traces of poison in his blood. So the baby boy was
named Sagara, which also means ‘along with poison’. Sagara grew up in
the sage’s ashram, learning the art of warfare and receiving an excellent
education.
Over time, he regained his father’s lost kingdom and became a wonderful
king. He had two wives. The first wife gave birth to a baby boy named
Asamanjasa, while the second wife performed a dedicated penance and was
blessed with 60,000 children. These children collectively dug a pond that in
time turned into an ocean. That is why the ocean is also called sagara, for
the sons of Sagara.
Asamanjasa turned out to be like his grandfather, and so did his 60,000
stepbrothers. Sagara struggled to mould his children into worthy future
kings.
 Meanwhile, in an attempt to establish supremacy, King Sagara decided to
perform the Ashvamedha yagna. During this process, a king’s horse is
allowed to wander around for a year. Wherever the horse goes, the king of
that land either accepts the sovereignty of the master of the horse or
challenges him. Once the horse returns to his master’s kingdom, the king’s
status gets elevated to that of an undisputed sovereign.
Lord Indra learnt of Sagara’s plans and, fearful of the consequences,
kidnapped the horse. The 60,000 children searched far and wide for the
horse, but with no luck. After some time, they came across a meditating
sage, Kapila. They stopped there, and one of them asked the sage if he had
seen the horse, to which the sage did not reply because he was in deep
meditation. But the children took the lack of response as an insult and
began hitting the sage. Kapila finally broke his meditation and opened his
eyes. They were red with anger. With one glance, all of them were reduced
to ashes.
When King Sagara learnt of the demise of his children, he rushed to Sage
Kapila. Folding his hands, he requested him, ‘Honoured sage, I am aware
that my children have made a grave mistake, but they have also done some
good in their lives, including the creation of an ocean that sustains life. I
beg you not to deprive them of attaining moksha.’
Kapila was a kind sage. He replied, ‘For your children to attain moksha,
the river Ganga must flow over their ashes. Only then can they go to
heaven.’
So the king offered penance to the gods in the hope of convincing them
to let the river Ganga flow down to the earth and over his children’s ashes.
But Sagara died before his penance was complete, and the task remained
incomplete for a long time.
Many years down the line, Bhagiratha was born in the same clan and
ascended the throne. He learnt of the story of Sage Kapila and his ancestors,
and decided to pray to the lord to beg for their salvation. Vishnu appeared
and said, ‘Bhagiratha, the path has been set. You must convince Ganga to
flow over their ashes. You must pray to her.’
Inspired, Bhagiratha began praying to Ganga, who originated at the feet
of Lord Vishnu. He was aware that it was a Herculean task to convince her
to descend from the heavens to the earth, and he put his heart and soul into
his tapasya.
 Finally, Ganga appeared one day. On hearing his request, she said, ‘The
force of my waters is too much for the earthly realm to sustain. Pray to Lord
Shiva and ask him to reduce my spate so that the earth does not get washed
away.’
Thus, Bhagiratha began another tapasya until Shiva finally appeared. He
offered to let Ganga flow through his hair and only then descend to the
earth. As Ganga rushed down, Shiva tied up his hair, letting just one stream
escape and flow down to the earth. From that day on, Shiva came to be
known as Gangadhara, and Ganga came to be known as Bhagirathi because
of Bhagiratha’s great penance to both Lord Shiva and Lord Vishnu.
 Despite Shiva’s strategy, the force of the Ganga was so strong that when
she reached earth, the gush of the water flooded the ashram of the sage
Jahnu. Jahnu became so livid at the destruction that he drank the river, and
Ganga could not proceed further. When Bhagiratha learnt of this
development, he became disheartened and prayed earnestly to the sage as
well as to Lord Vishnu and Lord Shiva.
Finally, the sage gave in and released Ganga through his ears. This is
why Ganga is also known as Jahnavi. The river eventually flowed over the
ashes of Sagara’s children, and they attained salvation.
People in India still believe that if the dead’s ashes are immersed in the
Ganga or if a dying person receives the holy water before death, he or she
will achieve salvation. In history, what is today called the Bay of Bengal
was known as Ganga Sagara (or Poorva Samudra) and the Arabian Sea was
referred to as Sindhu Sagara (or Pashchim Samudra).
The Ganga originates from a glacier in the Himalayas called Gaumukh (a
cow’s mouth), a little beyond the town of Gangotri, and merges with the sea
at the Bay of Bengal. Many rivers such as Alaka, Nanda, Yamuna,
Saraswati, Sarayu, Gandak and others join Ganga on her journey. A rock at
Gangotri marks the spot where Bhagiratha did his tapasya, along with
statues of Bhagiratha and Ganga. Similar statues can also be seen at Sage
Kapila’s ashram in West Bengal.
It is noteworthy that Bhagiratha’s continuous penance led to the coining
of the phrase ‘Bhagiratha prayatna’, which is used to denote the effort
required to be put into a Herculean task.
 The Upside-Down King

Satyavrata was a popular Suryavamshi king of Ayodhya. He ruled his land

fairly, and when he grew old, he crowned his son Harishchandra the next
ruler.
Satyavrata’s next desire was to retain his mortal body when ascending to
the heavens. So he requested his teacher, Sage Vasishtha, to assist him.
Vasishtha tried to explain to him that his wish was neither natural nor
something that would be acceptable to the gods. Satyavrata, however, was
adamant.
Vasishtha advised him, ‘O my dear king, you are certain to go to the
heavens because of all the good deeds you have done in this life. But your
mortal body must be discarded first. It is the law of nature.’
Undeterred, Satyavrata pressurized Shakti, Sage Vasishtha’s eldest son, to
help him, and even offered him wealth in exchange. Shakti was angered by
the crude gesture of a bribe. When Vasishtha came to know of Satyavrata’s
actions, he cursed him. ‘You have committed three grave sins: you have not
listened to your guru, you have attempted to use underhand means to get
what you want and you have harboured the unearthly desire to go to the
heavens with your body. From this day on, you will be known as Trishanku,
and may you wander this world without peace of mind or any aim.’
As Trishanku travelled through forests and kingdoms, he came across the
famed sage Vishvamitra, who was also a Suryavamshi. Vishvamitra had
once been a king but had given up all association with worldly matters and
taken to the life of a sage. But because he had not yet conquered the sins of
jealousy and anger, he had not achieved enlightenment. Vishvamitra did not
like Vasishtha, so when he learnt of the reason behind Trishanku’s aimless
wandering, he saw an opportunity to put Vasishtha down, and agreed to
fulfil the old king’s desire to move to the heavens with his body intact.
‘Don’t worry, Trishanku! I will take it upon myself to ensure that your
desire is fulfilled,’ he said.
Many sages tried to talk Vishvamitra out of this arrangement, but the
sage was adamant. He used his powers obtained from his prayers to begin
performing the rites. Trishanku felt his body rise and head towards the
heavens. He was ecstatic.
When the gods above sensed an irregular occurrence, they assembled to
see what was happening.
‘If every sage begins to use his power for such a desire, then the heavens
will be full of humans, and it will no longer remain the heavens,’ said one
of the gods.
The gods agreed that something must be done.
Indra took charge and began pushing Trishanku back towards the earth.
Vishvamitra sensed Trishanku’s body descending to the earth with his
head downwards and became furious at Indra’s move. He used all his power
now to push the body back up again. This constant tug caused Trishanku to
get stuck midway between the two realms and turn upside down, unable to
go either way.
With no respite in sight, Indra, alarmed by this turn of events, approached
the sage. He reasoned with him. ‘Dear sage, what you are doing will set a
precedent for all mortals and result in conflict between the rules of the
heavens and the earth. We want peace, not war, in the future. We cannot
allow mortals into heaven as long as they retain their physical form.’
With much difficulty, Indra managed to placate Vishvamitra, who was
now in a fix. He understood the wishes of the gods, but could not forgo his
promise to Trishanku. So Vishvamitra created a new heaven for Trishanku
that stood between the two realms of the heavens and the earth.
Thus, the term Trishanku Swarga was coined—indicating a state in which
a person is caught between his or her desires and possessions, and is neither
here nor there.
 The Promise of a Promise

King Harishchandra of Ayodhya was a popular and impartial king. He was

blessed with a pious wife named Taramati, and together they had a son
named Rohitashva. King Harishchandra was very dharmic, and was
believed to let nothing deter him from walking the path of dharma.
One day, a discussion sparked among the gods and the sages about which
king was the most honest and faithful to his dharma. Vasishtha, the guru of
the Suryavamshis, remarked, ‘No one can beat Harishchandra in this
regard.’
The statement upset the gods as well as Sage Vishvamitra, who
questioned how a mortal could be better than the gods. Just then, Narada
arrived at the scene. He also agreed with Vishvamitra. Encouraged,
Vishvamitra said with confidence, ‘I will prove you wrong, Vasishtha.’
‘Of course you can try,’ Vasishtha replied. ‘You can test Harishchandra
for as long as you like; I know that he will pass all your tests with flying
colours. But in the rare chance that he doesn’t, I promise to give up my
position as a teacher and live the life of a common man for the rest of my
time.’
Narada turned to Vishvamitra. ‘But what happens if Harishchandra
proves that he is the best there is? There must be some consequence for you
too.’
‘Then I will give Harishchandra half of my yogic powers and the divine
goodwill that I have earned. I will ensure that he becomes renowned and
lives for a long time in the world as well as in the minds of future
generations,’ said an enraged Vishvamitra.
 Narada nodded, and the two sages agreed that Harishchandra be tested.
Vishvamitra set about formulating his strategy.
Very soon, some villagers approached Harishchandra for help. ‘There is a
wild boar in our village that is destroying our crops and posing a danger to
our families. Please help us.’
So the king gathered some of his soldiers, and the party set out to hunt
the boar, who was Vishvamitra’s creation. Harishchandra, who was
oblivious of the test, followed the footprints of the boar and galloped deep
into the forest, far ahead of his troop, who soon lost sight of him.
He wandered the forest for a long time, but it seemed that the boar had
vanished into thin air. Tired from the chase, Harishchandra walked until he
spotted a beautiful ashram. This ashram too was one of Vishvamitra’s
creations. Two beautiful women stepped out and welcomed the king with
garlands and drinks and entertained him. Pleased, Harishchandra relaxed for
some time and revelled in the attention he was receiving. Then he rose to
depart, thanked his beautiful hosts and promised to send them gifts from the
royal treasury through his messengers.
The women, however, refused his gifts. ‘King, we do not want any gifts
from you. We only want to marry you,’ they declared.
Harishchandra was unprepared for this. ‘I can’t marry you, young
maidens. I already have a wife and a child. Such an action constitutes
adharma,’ he said.
Just then, Vishvamitra entered the scene.
‘King!’ he thundered. ‘This is my ashram, and you have come here
without taking my permission. Now you are insulting my daughters by
refusing their wishes. The only way to right your wrong is to accede to their
request and marry them.’
The king politely refused again.
When Vishvamitra persisted, at last Harishchandra said, ‘Sage, I would
rather part with my kingdom than marry your daughters. I cannot go against
dharma.’
Vishvamitra pounced on the king’s words and said, ‘In that case, give
your kingdom to me. Bring me water and let’s perform the ceremony of the
abdication of your throne.’
Without a moment’s hesitation, Harishchandra gave away his kingdom to
the sage.
 After the abdication, Vishvamitra said, ‘Charity is incomplete without
dakshina.’
‘Tell me, dear sage, what would you like as dakshina?’ Harishchandra
asked.
‘I want a really tall person to stand on an elephant and throw a coin to the
ground. Then I want a heap of gold as tall as the point from where the
person was standing on the elephant.’
‘Sure. I will give this to you as soon as I reach the palace,’ said
Harishchandra.
‘But your kingdom is already mine. So your treasury is no longer yours.
You cannot take anything from it,’ the sage remarked.
‘I will take it from my personal share of wealth to give to you,’ said
Harishchandra.
‘When a kingdom is given away, your personal wealth is included in it,’
the sage rebutted.
‘Let me think about this, Sage. I will give the money to you. But please
allow me to now go back to the kingdom and inform my family.’
‘I will come with you, Harishchandra, so you can formally hand over the
kingdom to me.’
Harishchandra nodded.
When Harishchandra reached Ayodhya, he called his wife and his son
and apprised them of the latest developments. They were no longer queen
and prince, and could no longer live in the palace.
Vishvamitra was expecting Taramati to be livid about her husband’s
actions and try to persuade the king to regain his kingdom somehow.
However, nothing of the sort happened.
Taramati did not question her husband. Instead, she removed her as well
as her son’s royal jewellery and stood up. ‘I agree with you, dear husband.
A word of honour must be kept, come what may.’
Harishchandra turned to Vishvamitra and said, ‘O Sage, I have heard that
Kashi is a prosperous and rich city. So I will go there with my family and
come back with your money once I have it.’
‘Kashi is quite far, Harishchandra, and you might take years to return. Or
you might not come back at all! But the gold has been promised. So I will
send my disciple Nakshatraka with you. Give the money to him by the end
of the month. For now, I will begin my rule here.’
 So Harishchandra, Taramati and Rohitashva, along with Nakshatraka,
began their journey to Kashi. The king’s subjects lined up along the road
and sobbed at the state of their king. They were furious at Vishvamitra, but
the sage didn’t heed them. Nakshatraka was as cunning as his teacher was
and troubled the family frequently, demanding food, water and frequent rest
stops. Taramati had never travelled such a long distance by foot and soon
felt weary and tired. Young Rohitashva was also finding it hard to continue
the journey without enough food and water. But neither mother nor son
complained. Harishchandra was distressed at the hardship that had befallen
his family, but he was determined to keep his word to Vishvamitra.
Vishvamitra created illusionary thieves, beasts, hurricanes, tornadoes and
flash floods in an effort to propel Taramati to plead with her husband and
stop him from proceeding with his plan. But Taramati remained stoic
through the journey and chanted Kashi Vishwanath’s name (another name
for Lord Shiva) until the illusions reached their logical end.
After a long and tumultuous journey, the four finally reached Kashi.
It was the last day of the month. Nakshatraka began asking for the
money. ‘Give it quickly or accept defeat,’ he pestered Harishchandra.
With no respite in sight and no end to the pressure, the only way
Harishchandra could think of to repay his debt was to sell himself and his
family. It was the hardest decision he had made, and he spent a long time
deliberating over it. Finally, he made a public announcement. ‘My wife, my
child and I are up for sale. Whoever buys us must give us the gold that we
want. I want a tall person to stand on an elephant and throw a coin to the
ground. Then I want a heap of gold as tall as the tallest point from where
the person was standing on the elephant.’
An old man approached them. ‘My wife is ill and I need a lady servant to
cook and clean the house. For your wife, I will pay part of the money that
you need.’
Taramati began sobbing.
‘I really don’t want a crying servant. I need someone who will work
sincerely,’ said the old man, seeming doubtful at Taramati’s tears.
‘No, no,’ said Taramati and wiped her tears away. ‘I will gladly come to
work for you, but please allow me to bring my son too.’
‘That is going to be a problem. Then I will have to spend to feed your
child too,’ replied the old man.
 ‘Sir, it is difficult for me to part with my child,’ begged Taramati. ‘I
assure you that he will help with the domestic chores around the house and
will earn his meals.’
Harishchandra became overwhelmed at this exchange, as the old man
nodded and bought both his wife and his son. Nakshatraka, who was
standing a short distance away, said to the old man, ‘Keep the gold with
you. My teacher Vishvamitra will come and collect it one day.’
Taramati cast one last affectionate look at her husband and, without
saying a word, turned around, laid an arm around her son and followed the
old man to his home.
Left alone, Harishchandra announced again, ‘I am ready to be a lifelong
slave to anyone who agrees to give me the remainder of the money that I
need.’
A stout and hefty man stepped out of the crowd and stood in front of him.
‘I am Veerababu, and I am the owner and caretaker of Manikarnika Ghat,
the burning ground of the holy city. I need a servant to help me with my
duties on the ground. I will buy your lifelong services.’
Veerababu pulled out the money and bought Harishchandra. Nakshatraka
felt a twinge of sadness to see a good king becoming a slave to the owner of
a burning ground. But he had to fulfil his duty to Vishvamitra. Nakshatraka
said to Veerababu, ‘Keep the gold with you. My teacher, Sage Vishvamitra,
will come and collect it one day.’
Saying thus, Nakshatraka departed.
Veerababu turned to Harishchandra. ‘As I said, I own Manikarnika Ghat.
Legend has it that when Sati, the first wife of Lord Shiva, died in her
father’s yagna, and Shiva picked up her body and danced the Tandava
Nritya in grief and anger, her earrings fell and landed in this area, and so it
was named Manikarnika. People prefer to breathe their last at Kashi
because of the belief that if their ashes are immersed in the river Ganga,
they will go to heaven. Come now, your duties are mainly at the ground. I
charge a fixed fee for the cremation rites—a few gold coins for me, and one
gold coin and a loincloth for you. Never perform cremation rites free of
charge. You must be available day and night, as death has no time and a
dead body can arrive at any time. You must also ensure that no animal
enters the ground or desecrates it. These are standing instructions.’
Harishchandra nodded and understood that he would have to stay at
Manikarnika Ghat itself.
 Soon, Veerababu also departed and Harishchandra was left alone.
As Harishchandra stared at the river Ganga flowing below the ghat, he
thought of his kingdom on the banks of the river Sarayu and his capital city
of Ayodhya. How fortunes had changed and had turned him from a loved
king to a pauper! He felt disheartened thinking of his wife and son and
wondered what they were doing at that moment. He felt responsible for
their hardship—they were suffering for the sole reason that they were his
family. Yet, even though his heart was heavy, his conscience was clear
because he had kept his promise. Thus, Harishchandra began his new life.
Meanwhile, Taramati had already begun working in the old man’s house.
She toiled from morning to evening. Despite her efforts, the old couple
always found fault with her work. Rohitashva also worked very hard to
complete his chores, which lasted all day. He had been a prince, whose sole
focus had been studying and learning the art of warfare, while he was
waited on hand and foot, but now he was a woodcutter and a cleaner. He
wasn’t given enough food, and Taramati was worried that her son’s
weakening body would eventually give way. Still, mother and son dealt
with their situation as best as they could.
One day, there was a shraadha in the old man’s home, and he told
Rohitashva to go collect firewood. The young boy took the axe and went to
the forest nearby. A snake, that was created by Vishvamitra, bit him as he
chopped wood, and Rohitashva died instantly.
A few people who witnessed the incident came running to Taramati with
the news. A horrified Taramati begged the old man, ‘Please, sir, allow me to
go and see my child.’
The old man replied, ‘It is the shraadha today, and there is a lot to be
done. I don’t have time for this. Do whatever you want, but come back
before the shraadha starts.’
Taramati hurriedly made her way to the forest, fearful and sobbing. When
she saw the body of her dead child, she prayed to Kashi Vishwanath. ‘O
Lord, haven’t you given us enough tests and tasks to deal with? And now,
you have taken my child away from me. How can you let him die this
way?’
Taramati cried and cried until her tears ran dry. Then she remembered
that she had promised the old man she would return quickly. So she carried
Rohitashva’s dead body to Manikarnika Ghat.
 The cremation ground was deserted save a man working there. He had
his back towards her. Taramati called out to him, ‘Sir, will you allow me to
burn my child’s body here?’
‘Do you have the money for it?’ the man asked, without turning to look
at her.
‘No, sir, I am a servant in a rich man’s house, and I don’t have any
money with me.’
‘Then the cremation cannot happen here,’ he responded.
 Taramati began crying. ‘Oh, Rohitashva! Look at what fate has done to
you. You were born a prince but you have died a pauper, and I don’t even
have enough for your last rites. I don’t know what to do!’
On hearing Taramati’s words, Harishchandra realized it was his wife. He
steeled himself and, still keeping his back to her, said, ‘You have a
mangalasutra around your neck. You can sell that and bring the money.’
Taramati looked up, surprised. ‘How did you see my mangalasutra? It is a
magical necklace and only two people in the world can see it—Lord
Vishwanath of Kashi and my husband. So who are you?’
Harishchandra turned around, and Taramati saw that he was none other
than her husband. Harishchandra looked at Taramati and broke down. He
sobbed bitterly. Then he composed himself and said, ‘Our son is gone. But
you have to bring the money for his last rites. I can forgo my fee, but I can’t
do so for my master’s share. Please, Taramati, bring the money from your
master.’
‘The old man doesn’t even give us enough food. Do you really think that
he will give me money for our son’s cremation? Have mercy, dear husband.
Rohitashva is your son too. We can’t keep dead bodies in this state for too
long. Please, I beg you, allow him some dignity and let him rest here.’
Harishchandra shook his head with sadness.
Taramati knew that he would not change his mind. So she resigned
herself to the will of the lord and said, ‘I will see what I can do. I will leave
his body here for now and come back later.’
As she made her way back to the old man’s home, she saw a young boy
of the same age as her son lying dead on the ground. In her sorrow and
confusion, she mistook the boy to be her son. She sat down, placed the body
of the boy on her lap and asked, ‘O Rohitashva, are you alive again?’
The body really belonged to the prince of Kashi. With yet another of
Vishvamitra’s tricks, the prince of Kashi had been kidnapped and killed by
thieves. The royal guards had been searching for the prince and came across
Taramati sitting with the prince’s lifeless body. Assuming that she was the
prince’s murderer, they arrested her and dragged her to the king. ‘Your
Majesty, here is the demon woman who has killed the prince.’
The king was grief-stricken, but when the queen saw her son’s dead
body, she fainted with shock.
Taramati was still too distressed and not in the right state of mind. She
blabbered, ‘My son has been bitten by a snake, and my husband won’t
allow me to perform his last rites without paying the money for the
cremation.’
The king was too upset to be objective. Without thinking further, he
announced, ‘Behead this woman. Take her to Manikarnika Ghat and
execute her there.’
The soldiers took Taramati to Manikarnika Ghat and informed
Harishchandra that he had to execute this criminal. Harishchandra looked at
Taramati, and his face turned as white as a sheet. He was not prepared for
this. He knew that Taramati had not slain the prince, but he had been
ordered to do so and it was his duty to obey the king.
With eyes closed, he lifted his sword, intending to bring it down on
Taramati’s head.
Suddenly, flower petals began raining from the sky. As he felt the soft
petals on his body, Harishchandra opened his eyes. Sage Vasishtha stood
before him.
‘Harishchandra, you have proven your worth. I am proud of you.’
Harishchandra was bewildered, as he tried to understand what was going
on. Taramati too was astonished.
Out of the corner of his eye, Harishchandra saw Rohitashva stir. The boy
opened his eyes and sat up, almost as if from a deep sleep.
By then Vishvamitra’s illusion had also reached an end, and the king of
Kashi came running to the scene with his son in tow, perfectly alive and
healthy.
Vishvamitra appeared with Nakshatraka and addressed Harishchandra. ‘I
am proud of you. I apologize for having put you through a challenging test,
but you handled every situation without resentment or anger. You are truly
the most dharmic king of all. Till the world exists, and with Lord
Vishwanath as a witness, you will now be known as Satya Harishchandra,
and Manikarnika Ghat will become one of the most sacred ghats of the
land. I return your kingdom to you and, in addition, you will also share half
the punya of my good deeds.’
Harishchandra accepted the blessings of the sages and headed back to
Ayodhya with his family. He ruled the kingdom wisely for a long time.
The nickname Nakshatraka is used today for a person who follows
another person around irritating him or her, and the phrase ‘Don’t follow
me like Nakshatraka!’ is often used in this context.
 If you go to Kashi (Varanasi) today, you can see the piles of bodies
awaiting their turn for cremation at Manikarnika Ghat. The ashes are then
immersed in the river Ganga. The descendants of Veerababu still retain the
ownership of the ghat. And of course, Lord Vishwanath remains the eternal
witness!
 The Tree of Gold

Raghu, an ancestor of Rama and a famous warrior and popular

Suryavamshi king, had a vast kingdom that extended over most of what
today comprises India and Pakistan as well as parts of Central Asia.
Whenever he won a war, he would perform a big yagna and give alms to
whoever approached him.
In the kingdom lived a poor boy named Koustheya. Koustheya was an
excellent student, and his teacher imparted knowledge to him without any
expectations of gurudakshina from a boy as poor as him.
In time, Koustheya completed his education and asked his teacher,
‘Guruji, what gurudakshina may I give you? Please tell me.’
‘I know your background,’ said the guru, ‘and I don’t want any fees. You
have been a wonderful disciple. Go ahead and spread your knowledge to
others. I will consider that my fees. I bless you, my child. Now, find your
path and serve your destiny.’
But Koustheya insisted. ‘I believe that education is incomplete until I pay
the teacher’s fees. I must give you something.’
The guru resisted, but Koustheya was insistent. Finally, the guru lost his
temper and said, ‘If you are so adamant, then give me ten lakh gold coins. If
you can’t, then admit that you can’t pay, take my blessings and be on your
way.’
Koustheya was caught by surprise. He had not expected his teacher to ask
for such an amount. He grew worried. ‘How will I procure so much wealth?
Perhaps I should have left when my teacher told me to, but my ego got in
the way. Now I have to try my best,’ he thought.
 ‘With your blessings, Guruji, I will get this money and give it to you,’
said Koustheya and departed.
As he journeyed through a thick forest, Koustheya thought about the task
ahead of him. ‘Whom can I approach?’ he wondered. Suddenly, he thought
of King Raghu. He was certain that the king wouldn’t turn him away
empty-handed. So Koustheya made his way to Raghu’s palace.
Once Koustheya reached the palace, King Raghu received him
respectfully with pots of water. When Koustheya saw the earthen pots, he
became disappointed. A king carrying such pots must not have much to
give his guests. The king, however, was hospitable and asked Koustheya the
reason for his visit. ‘O learned man, your wish is my command. Why have
you come to visit me?’
Hesitantly, Koustheya said, ‘I seek ten lakh gold coins.’
King Raghu was not perturbed. ‘I have just completed my yagna and
donated all that I could,’ he said. ‘Now, I am left only with these earthen
vessels. But it is my duty to fulfil your desire. Please give me some time to
arrange this money for you.’
That night, Raghu lay in bed and wondered, ‘Where should I get this
money from? Perhaps Kubera, the lord of wealth, will be able to help. I am
a king and cannot ask for alms or money. So the only choice I have is to
fight Kubera and defeat him. Then I can emerge victorious and hand over
the money to Koustheya.’
The next day, Raghu marched north with a few select soldiers to
Kubera’s abode. They travelled all night and halted outside Alkavati,
Kubera’s capital city.
Kubera had many spies who observed all that was happening in his
kingdom, day and night. Soon enough, a few spies ran back to the palace
and warned him. ‘Your Highness, the great warrior King Raghu has come
prepared to wage a war against you, and it is all because of a promise that
he made to a sage assuring him that he would give him ten lakh gold coins.’
Kubera was surprised to learn about Raghu’s intentions and used his
magical powers to locate Raghu, who was sleeping under a shami tree in
the forest. Quickly, he transformed the leaves of the tree into gold coins.
When Raghu awoke the next morning, he saw the tree covered with gold
coins. He understood that it was Kubera’s magic at work. He said to his
soldiers, ‘Our mission is already complete, and there is no need to go to
war. Let’s take down ten lakh gold coins from the tree and leave the rest as
is. The life of a king must be like that of a sage—with minimal to no
attachments.’
Raghu headed back to his kingdom after gathering ten lakh gold coins
and sent word to Koustheya to come and collect the money.
 Meanwhile, the gods had been watching, and seeing Raghu’s good
intentions, they blessed him and his kingdom with prosperity.
Koustheya collected the coins and handed them to his teacher, who was
pleasantly surprised and blessed his student. ‘Your gurudakshina is
complete. Go and prosper in this world, my child.’
The guru then donated all the gold coins to the poor that very day. It was
the tenth day of the month of Ashwayuja, and from that day on, distributing
wealth on this day became a custom. Today, if a person doesn’t have gold to
donate, they distribute the leaves of the shami tree instead. Later, Rama is
believed to have defeated Ravana on this day, and the tenth day of this
month came to be known as Vijayadashami or Dussehra.
Since then, the shami (Prosopis cineraria) is considered an auspicious
tree and is also called the tree of gold.
Legend also has it that when the Pandavas were in exile for a year, they
were afraid that people would recognize them if they carried their weapons
along. So they collected the weapons together, tied them with a cloth to a
shami tree and entered the city of Viratnagar unarmed. The tree, thus,
became a great source of help during their exile.
Today, people all over the country celebrate Vijayadashami after nine
days of Navratri and the worship of Goddess Durga. On the tenth day,
leaves from a shami tree are kept in a box and distributed to friends and
relatives. People touch the feet of elders and say, ‘Please accept these shami
leaves and bless us so that we prosper in our lives.’
 Ravana, the Complex Asura

The Story of Vaisravana

The great sage Pulastya was a very learned man who was performing a
strict penance in a forest near Mount Mahameru. He ate only what was
required for survival, and led an austere and disciplined life. The king of the
gods, Indra, thought that Pulastya was praying to usurp his throne and sent a
few celestial beauties with exquisite flowers and delicious fruits to disrupt
Pulastya’s tapasya.
Pulastya, however, remained detached from the distractions around him.
The sage understood that Indra had instructed the women to disturb him.
The apsaras began playing music and dancing with joy. Finally, fed up, he
cursed them. ‘Any woman who sets eyes on me is sure to have a baby
within a year.’
When the apsaras heard these words, they immediately ran away, and
Pulastya continued his penance in peace.
Days passed.
King Thrinabindu, who ruled the land, had a beautiful daughter. One day,
she went to the forest nearby with her friends but lost her way. She
wandered around and suddenly found herself in Pulastya’s ashram, where
she saw the sage meditating. Without disturbing him and unaware of the
curse, she prostrated before him and then left the ashram. Soon after, she
found her friends, and they returned to the palace.
 After a few days, the princess felt her body changing. Thinking that she
might be about to fall sick, she visited the royal physician, who examined
her and declared, ‘You are pregnant.’
The princess was alarmed. When her father, Thrinabindu, learnt of this,
he was surprised. But he was an understanding man and a wise philosopher.
He knew that his daughter was incapable of doing anything that might
interfere with her royal duties or harm their reputation. So he quizzed his
daughter about the sequence of events in the near past. Finally, the king
realized that the change could have come along only after the princess’s
visit to Pulastya’s ashram and immediately left with his daughter to meet
the sage in the forest.
When they reached the ashram, the sage was not in meditation and
welcomed his visitors. The king explained the situation to the sage, who
said, ‘King, I will marry the princess. She will give birth to a child who will
become very famous in the world.’
The king agreed, and the princess and the sage were married. They were
a happy couple. Months later, the princess gave birth to a bouncing baby
boy, whom they named Vishrava.
Vishrava grew up to be a great sage because of his knowledge and yogic
powers. He was much like his father—a learned and calm man. First, he
married Ilavada and had a son named Vaisravana. Later, he also wed
Kaikesi, who bore him Ravana.
Vaisravana grew up in the ashram and performed many yagnas like his
father and grandfather.
One day, Brahma appeared before him. ‘I am pleased with your penance
and knowledge. Tell me, Vaisravana, what can I give you? What do you
desire?’
Vaisravana replied, ‘I want to manage the finances and all related matters
of the celestial treasury, and have the same elite status of the gods of the
directions. There are only three gods of the directions, and I would like to
be the fourth.’
Lord Brahma smiled and agreed. ‘So be it. From this day on, you will be
known as Kubera and will equal the likes of Indra, who is the king of the
gods and the east; Varuna, who is the god of water and the west; and Yama,
the god of death and the south. You, my child, will be the god of wealth and
the north. I also bless you with the Pushpaka Vimana, a chariot that can fly
in any direction you wish. May you handle your blessings with wisdom and
grace.’
Kubera approached his father, Vishrava, and said, ‘Father, Lord Brahma
has been very kind to me. He gave me more than I asked for. But he did not
identify a place for me to stay. Please advise me where I can live so that I
do not cause harm to any living being—human or animal. That will make
me very happy.’
Vishrava liked his son’s humble request and replied, ‘Go to the southern
ocean and keep travelling south until you come upon an island. That island
is Lanka Pradesha. Look for a mountain known as Trikuta, near which lies a
beautiful city called Lanka. The city has a strong moat and fort and a palace
made of gold. Lanka was built by Vishwakarma, the architect of the
heavens, for the asuras, but the asuras ran away to Patala Loka (the lower
world) out of the fear of Lord Vishnu. So the city now lies abandoned. You
can take residence there and rule.’
Kubera smiled and thanked his father.
Soon, he made his way to Lanka and settled there. As time passed, many
asuras also came and resided in his kingdom. Kubera ruled the city wisely
and respected and cared for his subjects.

The Boons of Brahma

Sage Kashyapa had many wives. The children born of his wife Aditi
became devas, the children borne by Dwiti became asuras and those of
Kadru came to be known as the nagas. In the same manner, the yakshas and
kimpurushas were also borne by Sage Kashyapa’s different wives.
The asuras who built Lanka for themselves were behaving very
arrogantly and causing problems for others. Vishnu went to Lanka and
punished them, so they ran away to Patala Loka.
Over the generations in the asura lineage, Malyavan, Sumali and Mali
were born. The three brothers had many children.
Sumali’s daughter Kaikesi was extraordinarily beautiful and intelligent.
One day, when Sumali saw the famed sage Vishrava (Kubera’s father), he
decided to marry his daughter to this sage. Through scheming and planning,
Sumali became successful in his mission, and Vishrava was married to
Kaikesi. Together, they had three sons, named Ravana, Kumbhakarna and
Vibhishana, and a daughter named Shurpanakha.
Ravana’s grandfather Pulastya could predict the future. He told Kaikesi,
‘Your first two sons will bring a bad name to your lineage, but the last one
will be remembered forever as a good man.’
Kaikesi raised her children with the ideals of two cultures—the Vedic
culture of her father’s dynasty and the warrior ideology of her mother’s
family.
Ravana, Kaikesi’s eldest son, was a handsome prince who possessed the
qualities of sages as well as of asuras. He was also known as Dashagreeva,
Dashanana and Dashamukha—‘the man with ten heads’. It wasn’t that
Ravana really had ten heads; he had ten-fold knowledge. Through his
knowledge and learning, Ravana was aware of what was happening at all
times in six directions: north, south, east, west, up in the sky and down
below the earth. He possessed deep knowledge and insight into the four
Vedas.
However, as an asura, Ravana had a weakness for women, a vice he
could not rein in, and which eventually led to his downfall.
Kumbhakarna, the second son, was born with predominantly asura traits.
But he was good at heart and obedient to his brother Ravana, and followed
his orders without question. His strength worried Indra, who was afraid that
if Ravana focused his attention on defeating the gods and took
Kumbhakarna’s assistance, it would become difficult for the gods to survive
the war.
However, Vibhishana, the youngest prince, was from the beginning
inclined towards piety and peace, and did not exhibit any demonic traits.
One day, Kubera came to see his father, Vishrava, and meet his half-
brothers and sister. The sight of his Pushpaka Vimana made Kaikesi very
jealous. She said to her three sons, ‘When you grow up, you must be more
successful than your half-brother, Kubera. Just look at him—he is ruling
our kingdom. The asuras should have been the true rulers. You are all
strong. You must plan to take Lanka Pradesha back from him. Worship
Brahma and obtain boons that will help you achieve this mission. I have
faith in the kind-hearted and pure Brahma. He will bless you. Pray to him.’
So the three brothers began praying to Brahma and did so for many,
many years. Finally, the lord appeared before the three of them. ‘I am
impressed by your ardent devotion. You may ask me for whatever you
want.’
Ravana said, ‘O Lord, I want immortality.’
‘Child, you know I can’t grant you that,’ said Brahma with a smile.
Ravana looked down upon the strength of humans. They were easily
crushed—like ants in front of an elephant. So he said, ‘In that case, please
bless me so that I do not die at the hands of any god.’
‘So may it be,’ replied Brahma. Ravana had no inkling that Lord Vishnu
would take an avatar in the human form of Rama and be the harbinger of
his death. ‘In addition, I give you two more boons. In case you lose one
head in a war, you will get another in its place. Also, you can take the form
of whatever you desire.’
Ravana thanked the lord with joined hands.
Now, Brahma turned towards the mighty Kumbhakarna.
When Kumbhakarna had begun praying to Brahma, Indra had requested
Saraswati, ‘O Goddess, you can influence the speech of any individual.
When Brahma makes his appearance in front of Kumbhakarna, I am afraid
that he may ask for my throne or something that will end in my loss of
control over the heavens. I request you to kindly guide his words
appropriately at the right time.’
Brahma asked Kumbhakarna, ‘What do you desire?’
Kumbhakarna wanted to ask for Indrasana, the throne of Indra, the king
of the gods. However, Saraswati used her powers to twist his tongue, and
instead of saying Indrasana, Kumbhakarna said, ‘I want nidrasana (sleep).’
‘So it may be,’ blessed Brahma. Kumbhakarna instantly fell to the
ground and went to sleep.
Finally, it was Vibhishana’s turn.
When Brahma asked what he sought, Vibhishana said, ‘Please bless me
to always be steady and never stray from the path of dharma, irrespective of
the circumstances I might find myself in.’
Brahma was very pleased. ‘Now that is a very unusual request for a boon.
You will forever be known as Dharmista and remembered for your
righteousness in the world.’
The three brothers came back and informed their mother, Kaikesi, about
their respective boons.
In time, Ravana learnt how Indra had tricked Kumbhakarna to save his
throne. Furious, he marched towards Indra’s kingdom, defeated Indra and
imprisoned him. Ravana then approached Brahma to reverse the boon.
‘I can’t reverse a boon already granted,’ said Brahma. ‘However, I can
modify it. From now on, Kumbhakarna will sleep for half the year and stay
awake for the other half.’
Satisfied that there was at least some relief for his brother, Ravana
thanked Brahma and returned home.
Knowing that he was now invincible, Ravana prepared to invade Lanka
as per his mother’s wishes.
Ravana sent word to Kubera. ‘Lanka belongs to the asuras, and you are
an outsider. Vacate the city of your own volition. If you do not, I will have
to wage war against you and take what is rightfully mine.’
Kubera replied, ‘I occupied Lanka when it was empty and without
hurting anyone. If you really think that the city is yours, then take it. I will
leave in peace.’
Kubera then went to his father, Sage Vishrava, with the news.
‘Ravana can be very cruel, especially to his enemies,’ the sage mused.
‘He has been blessed by Brahma with three boons that have made him very
powerful. I suggest you go north and build your kingdom there, and
continue to rule it wisely, as you have all these years. The yakshas and the
kimpurushas will be your subjects. Be assured that Ravana will meet his
fate in due time.’
Kubera took his father’s advice and set up his kingdom and the capital
city of Alkavati after travelling north.
Meanwhile, Ravana was crowned the king of Lanka. Asuras from
different parts of the world migrated to Lanka and settled there.
Time passed and Ravana decided to expand his kingdom. He thought of
invading Yamaloka, Suryaloka, Chandraloka and Varunaloka—the
kingdoms of Yama, Surya, Chandra and Varuna. To move about to these
places, which were far and in different directions, Ravana now developed a
desire to possess the Pushpaka Vimana, and marched to Alkavati. When
Kubera tried to reason with him, Ravana became livid and forcefully took
away the Pushpaka Vimana.

Ravana’s Curses
Ravana, like his mother, was a great devotee of Shiva. He had deep
knowledge of the Vedas, astrology and music, and also played the veena.
He composed many hymns in praise of Lord Shiva.
One day, he went to Mount Kailash to visit Lord Shiva and Goddess
Parvati. There, he saw Shiva’s primary vehicle, Nandi the bull, while he
was leaving. Ravana remarked, ‘Look at my vehicle, the Pushpaka Vimana.
It is unique and magical. I look at the bull and wonder how such a weak
animal can be Shiva’s steed.’
Now, Nandi was no ordinary bull, and when Ravana didn’t stop his
insulting comments, Nandi cursed him. ‘You have no respect for the animal
species. May your clan be destroyed with the assistance of a mere monkey.’
An arrogant Ravana simply walked away, ignoring Nandi, not realizing
that the bull’s words would come true one day.
This was the first curse Ravana took upon his head.
King Anaranya, the king of Ayodhya at the time, was a Suryavamshi and
a just leader. During his rule, Ravana began conquering kingdoms and
killing whoever came in his way.
When Ravana encountered Anaranya, he ordered him to surrender and
hand over the kingdom. Anaranya refused. This escalated into a fierce battle
between the two armies, but Anaranya was no match for Ravana. The
mighty Ravana attacked Anaranya with such strength that Anaranya was
fatally wounded and fell from his chariot. Ravana ridiculed him. ‘O foolish
king, don’t you know how powerful I am? No one in the three realms can
defeat me. You can never win against me.’
‘You are cruel, Ravana, and as I lie here taking my last breaths, I curse
you with all my heart. If I am a true and just king, then the heavens will
ensure that a person from my lineage will be responsible for your death.’
The curse would reach its fruition with Rama’s birth. This was the second
curse.
One day, when Ravana was travelling in the Pushpaka Vimana, he came
across an exquisite woman performing a penance. Ravana, who had a
weakness for beauty, set down his vehicle and approached the maiden. He
didn’t want to wait for her to finish meditating, so he asked her in a loud
voice, ‘Who are you, beautiful maiden? I am the great Ravana. I would like
to get married to you and take you to live in my home in Lanka.’
The woman slowly opened her eyes. ‘I am Vedavati, the granddaughter
of Sage Brihaspati, the guru of the gods. I am not interested in your
proposition. Leave me alone.’
That did not deter Ravana. He persisted until Vedavati was visibly
furious. She cursed him. ‘Since you consistently refuse to respect my
words, I will ensure that I become the cause of your death in my next birth.’
Saying thus, Vedavati vanished from sight. She would be born as Sita in her
next life.
This was the third curse.
Time passed and Ravana married Mandodari, the daughter of Mayasura
and a celestial dancer named Hema. Ravana is also believed to have created
a game called chaturanga, known as the ancestor of chess, and taught
Mandodari how to play it.
Mandodari was a pious woman. She was aware of her husband’s vices
but loved him very much and prayed for his soul. Mandodari bore Ravana
three sons, of whom the first was a boy called Meghanada. He was named
so because his birth was heralded by extraordinary thundering in the sky—
almost as if the clouds were fighting. The boy grew up to be such a fine
warrior that Indra, the king of the gods, became afraid of his strength.
Meghanada learnt mayavi vidya (the magic of illusion) from his father. In
time, Meghanada marched to Indra’s abode, used the trick of disappearance
and defeated Indra, thus earning the name Indrajit (conqueror of Indra).
Later, he used the trick again during his battle with Rama and Lakshmana.
One day, Ravana went to the heavens and encountered the beautiful
celestial dancer Rambha. Rambha was in love with Nalakubera, Ravana’s
nephew and son of Kubera. Ravana was aware of this, but he still tried to
take Rambha away with him.
Nalakubera chanced upon the scene and cursed him. ‘From this day on, if
you insist on marrying any woman who doesn’t love you or want your
attention, you will die instantly!’
 This was the fourth curse.
Despite Ravana’s massive knowledge and expertise, his weakness for
women would later cost him his life.

Ravana’s Downfall

King Ravana continued his journey of rampage and conquering kingdoms,

killing people, imprisoning kings and taking away the beautiful women.
When Ravana reached the city of Mahishmati, he headed to the king’s
palace. King Arjuna (or Kartavirya Arjuna), the ruler of the kingdom, had a
thousand arms and was blessed with the protection of Agni, the god of fire.
The king, however, was not in his abode. Ravana thundered in
impatience, ‘Where is the king? I have come to seek his surrender.’
The king had gone to the river Narmada for a swim with his wives. The
ministers knew this, but no one said anything. One smart minister
responded, ‘The king is away from the palace, but he hasn’t informed us of
his whereabouts.’
Ravana was travelling in the Pushpaka Vimana and could easily trace his
target from the sky. He thought of tracking down Kartavirya Arjuna but
decided to first pray to Shiva and seek his blessings. So he went to the river
Narmada, found an isolated spot and had a bath. He came out, made a
shivalinga out of sand and began his prayers.
While praying, the water from the river came gushing out and washed
away the shivalinga. Ravana became furious at the river. ‘How dare the
river send her water to disturb my prayers?’
Upset, he abandoned his prayers and sent his servants to find out where
the gush of water had come from. They came back and informed him, ‘Sir,
a man with a thousand arms has extended his limbs across the river, almost
like a dam. His family is playing in the water.’
Ravana immediately knew that the man was none other than Kartavirya
Arjuna. He sent his ministers to the king, who said, ‘The great Ravana of
Lanka has come here, and you have disturbed his prayers to Shiva on the
banks of the river. There must be a war.’
‘Please tell your king that I am extremely apologetic,’ replied Kartavirya
Arjuna. ‘I was unaware that he was worshipping Shiva downstream. But I
am with my family right now, and it is time for sunset. So if there has to be
war, let it be from tomorrow.’
Ravana, however, refused to wait for the next day.
‘Sorry, the great Ravana cannot wait for a time that’s based on your
convenience,’ conveyed the messenger to Arjuna.
So the battle began.
The two sides were almost equally strong. Ravana fought bravely and
with all his might. However, Arjuna curled his arms like an octopus and
imprisoned Ravana between them. He defeated Ravana and brought him
back as a prisoner to the kingdom.
Ravana’s pride suffered a severe blow at his first defeat.
Arjuna said to him, ‘O Ravana, you are not the only one who is strong
enough to conquer kingdom after kingdom. Now that you realize my
strength, you must also understand that I do not wish to slay people or grab
other kingdoms. I do not desire your kingdom either. I only wished to teach
you a lesson. If you really want to understand the true meaning of a war, I
insist that you meet my guru, Vali, who rules the kingdom of Kishkindha.’
At this very time, Sage Pulastya, Ravana’s grandfather, happened to
come to Mahishmati to visit Kartavirya Arjuna. Pulastya was a great
scholar with a spotless reputation, revered wherever he went.
King Arjuna asked him politely, ‘O Sage, what may I do for you?’
‘Arjuna, please set my grandson free,’ the sage replied. ‘There is much to
be done if he has to fulfil his destiny.’
Ravana felt ashamed when he learnt of his grandfather advocating for
him.
Kartavirya Arjuna released Ravana and even bestowed him with royal
gifts. ‘You are a great scholar and possibly the greatest devotee of Lord
Shiva. Please don’t employ your power and strength for worldly and
unimportant goals. Don’t forget that you also belong to a sage’s esteemed
lineage. Let us put the past behind us and become friends.’
There is a blind belief that whenever a person misplaces something, he or
she can pray to Kartavirya Arjuna. With his thousand arms, he will search
for the lost item and ensure that you find it.

Ravana had regained his freedom, but he was unhappy. As days passed, he
became obsessed with the brave and powerful Vali.
 After much thought and planning, Ravana decided to battle with Vali and
was convinced that he would emerge victorious against the monkey king.
His victory would show the world his strength. So Ravana set out in search
of Vali.
He found Vali standing in the ocean, performing his evening prayers to
Surya, the sun god. Ravana attacked Vali from behind, but Vali’s tail
wrapped tightly around Ravana, holding him in a vice-like grip as the
monkey king circumnavigated the world, lost in prayer.
A powerless Ravana called for a truce and promised Vali that he would
never fight with him again.
This was Ravana’s second defeat.
Ravana soon went back to his old ways. In time, he became obsessed
with Sita and hatched a plan to kidnap her. He spoke to his uncle Maricha
about his plan and sought his help. Maricha, however, warned his nephew,
‘O mighty king, almost all people you come in contact with will tell you
what you want to hear. It is solely because of the position you hold. It is
rare to find people who will give you the right advice—advice that may not
always be pleasing to your ears. But just like bitter medicine, such words
are good for your health. Rama is a great warrior, and no matter how strong
your desire, you must not pursue his wife. It is against dharma, and it is
your kingly duty to be a role model to your subjects and follow dharma at
all times.’
Ravana, however, did not listen, and forced Maricha to transform himself
into a deer so that the deer could lead Rama away on a hunt, and thus lead
him away from his wife.
‘My death is certain,’ said Maricha sadly before turning into a deer. ‘I
will be killed by either you or Lord Rama, and if I get to choose, I would
rather die due to the lord’s arrows.’
When Ravana kidnapped Sita and reached Lanka, his youngest brother,
Vibhishana, warned him, ‘Brother, don’t antagonize Rama. It is unjust for
you to keep Sita here against her will.’
Stubborn Ravana ignored the warning.
Lankini, the powerful demon who protected the city of Lanka, had been
warned by Brahma that Lanka’s downfall would begin the day she was
defeated by a monkey. When Hanuman emerged victorious in a battle with
her, she immediately knew what lay ahead and went to Ravana to inform
him. ‘Sire, do not ignore this incident or our kingdom will fall. Please
release Sita and let her return to her husband.’
Well-wishers in the family also advised Ravana, but to no avail.
Kumbhakarna too advised his brother to return Sita, but Ravana ordered
him to fight Rama.
When Kumbhakarna arrived at the battlefield, he announced, ‘I have
come here to first fight the man who hasn’t cared for food and sleep for the
last fourteen years.’
‘Who is he referring to?’ wondered everyone.
Rama stepped forward. ‘You speak of my brother Lakshmana,’ he said.
‘In my service, he has not had deep sleep at night, nor does he long for
food.’
Thus began the fight between Kumbhakarna and Lakshmana, which
ended in an almost-fatal attack on Lakshmana. Rama then fought the
mighty asura and killed him.
Ravana, however, was convinced it was impossible to defeat him. Only a
select few knew that the secret of Ravana’s death lay in the nectar of his
belly button that was responsible for the regeneration of a decapitated head.
In the end, Vibhishana disclosed this information to Rama voluntarily
and sealed Ravana’s fate.
 How Not to Outsmart a God

King Ravana of Lanka was a devoted disciple of Lord Shiva. His mother,
Kaikesi, was also a devotee and responsible for initiating the seeds of Shiva
bhakti into her son.
One day, Ravana decided to go to Mount Kailash and perform a penance
to please Lord Shiva. He met his mother before leaving, who advised him,
‘My child, don’t ask the lord for material things. Instead, ask him for the
divine atmalinga, the source of immortality and great power.’
Ravana agreed, left home and began his penance. He had immense
confidence in himself and his devotion. Years passed in deep meditation
and strict penance, but Lord Shiva did not appear. Ravana then began
another penance with renewed vigour.
Vishnu, who was following the course of events, was aware of Ravana’s
desire for the atmalinga. He was against the idea of Ravana possessing the
linga. Ravana was an asura and could wreak havoc upon the gods once he
owned it. He thought to himself, ‘I will enter Ravana’s mind and influence
it whenever Shiva appears.’
At last, Lord Shiva revealed himself. When Ravana saw the lord, he said,
‘O Lord, I have been waiting for you. Had you not visited me now, I would
have carried Mount Kailash to my abode in Lanka.’
‘Is it that easy, Ravana?’ Shiva asked with a smile.
‘It is not difficult. I am Ravana, and I have the strength of twenty hands
and ten heads. I can accomplish anything,’ Ravana boasted.
‘If that is so, I will sit on Mount Kailash and you can take me to your
house,’ Lord Shiva said.
 Ravana put his palm below Mount Kailash, ready to lift it. Lord Shiva
simply put his little toe to the ground. That was enough. Ravana’s fingers
became trapped under Mount Kailash. He pulled and pulled to get them out
but to no avail. Realizing Shiva’s greatness, Ravana prayed to him for
forgiveness. This prayer is now known to be the Hindu hymn called Shiva
Tandava Stotram.
The kind-hearted Shiva forgave Ravana and lifted his toe so that he could
free his fingers. Pleased with Ravana’s prayers, Shiva said, ‘You are such a
great devotee that I can’t refuse you any boon. Come, tell me what you
want.’
Ravana was about to ask for the precious atmalinga, when Vishnu
entered his mind to play truant. Instead of asking for the atmalinga, Ravana
glanced at Goddess Parvati and said, ‘I want … Parvati.’
Vishnu was pleased with the mischief he had caused. He knew that
Ravana would never get Parvati and would have to face the consequences
of asking for Shiva’s beloved consort.
 Goddess Parvati was upset with the demon’s audacity, but Lord Shiva
smiled and said, ‘Take her if you can. You have my permission.’
Parvati was furious at her husband. ‘How can you give me away? I am
the mother of the world and your wife. How can you separate yourself from
me? You are Ardhanarishvara—half of your body is me!’
‘O Parvati,’ Shiva said, amused, ‘you already know what to do. Don’t be
upset. I will see you soon.’
Left with no choice, Parvati followed Ravana, who was ecstatic at the
thought of the goddess following him.
They set off towards Lanka. After some time, he turned around to see
her, but she was gone. Surprised, Ravana started searching for the goddess,
all the time wondering where she could have disappeared to.
During his search, he met Narada, the son of Brahma and an ardent
devotee of Vishnu. Befitting his unique status, Narada had the ability to
travel the three realms. Carrying around his tambura, chanting, ‘Narayana!
Narayana!’, Narada played the role of a messenger, often counselling and
sometimes intentionally misguiding, kings, devas and even asuras.
When Ravana asked Narada if he had seen Parvati anywhere, the sage
replied, ‘The one who was following you was not the real Parvati anyway.
The real Parvati is hiding in Patala Loka. You will recognize her
immediately because she is the most beautiful woman you will ever see.
You’d better go there quickly before she runs back to Shiva.’
Patala was also the abode of Mayasura, the great architect of the asuras,
his beautiful wife, Hema, and their daughter, Mandodari. Mandodari’s
beauty was famous and unparalleled. When Mayasura built the city of
Lanka for its king, Mandodari had frequently observed Ravana in the royal
gardens. With time, she had fallen in love with him and expressed to her
father her desire to marry the great king of Lanka.
Meanwhile, Ravana went to Patala in search of Goddess Parvati, but
when he saw Mandodari, he fell utterly and completely in love with her. He
thought, ‘She must be the real Parvati.’
Meanwhile, taking advantage of the confusion, Parvati headed back to
Mount Kailash.
Besotted Ravana requested Mayasura, ‘I would like to marry this
beautiful maiden.’
Mayasura and Hema happily agreed. ‘She’s our daughter,’ said
Mayasura, but Ravana was too busy staring at Mandodari to pay attention to
Mayasura’s words. So a lavish wedding was arranged, and Mandodari and
Ravana were married to each other.
After some time, Ravana returned to Lanka with his new bride and
introduced her to his mother as Parvati. When Kaikesi saw Mandodari, she
instantly recognized the daughter of Mayasura.
‘Son, this isn’t Parvati. This girl is Mandodari, the daughter of the great
architect Mayasura. What have you done?’
In a flash, Vishnu’s illusion reached its conclusion and Ravana recalled
his goal with clarity. He realized how he had been duped twice—once by
Vishnu and once by Narada.
His mother calmed him down. ‘It was your mistake, son. How can you
ask for Parvati? What was wrong with you? In any case, I approve of
Mandodari. She will prove to be a good wife to you. Now, go back and redo
your penance. This time, make no mistake.’
So Ravana spent some time in Lanka with his new bride, whom he
became very fond of, and then started another tapasya, this time determined
not to be outwitted.
Just as Lord Shiva was about to reveal himself to the praying Ravana,
Parvati advised her husband, ‘Please be wise; do not allow him an
unconditional boon lest he ask you for something that will end up wreaking
havoc on the three realms.’
Once more Shiva appeared in front of his devotee and said, ‘I am
impressed by your devotion, Ravana. What do you want?’
This time, Ravana was focused and prepared. He said, ‘O my lord! Give
me the atmalinga.’
Lord Shiva was taken aback. He had not expected this. But he had given
his word. So he handed the atmalinga over to Ravana, but with the
condition that the linga must never be placed on the ground. If it was, the
linga would remain there permanently.
Ravana accepted the atmalinga and, thanking the lord, left.
Word travelled fast to all the realms about the atmalinga’s new owner. It
caused great concern, and the gods became worried. A powerful asura like
Ravana would inevitably misuse the atmalinga.
The gods approached Lord Ganesha and said, ‘Please help us, O wise
one. We will not survive if the atmalinga remains in the hands of Ravana.’
‘Don’t worry, my friends. I will get it back for you,’ Ganesha promised.
 Ganesha knew that Ravana offered prayers to the sun god every evening,
no matter where he was. As soon as it was time for Ravana’s prayers,
Ganesha took the form of a young cowherd and wandered near Ravana.
Seeing the boy idling around, Ravana called out to him, ‘Come here,
boy! Will you hold this for me for a while till I finish my prayers? I will pay
you handsomely. But you must not put it down.’
Ravana held out the atmalinga. Ganesha smiled and agreed. He said, ‘I
can only hold this for a while because I have to keep an eye on my cows. If
you take too long, I will put this down and go to look after my cows.’
Ravana said, ‘I won’t take a lot of time. Don’t worry.’
Saying this, Ravana went to the water and began his evening prayers.
After some time, Ganesha said loudly, ‘Sire!’
‘Wait a minute,’ replied Ravana.
After a few minutes, Ganesha called out to him again. ‘Sire, I can’t hold
this any longer. I must go now.’
Ravana left his prayers and ran towards the boy. But before he could
reach him and take the atmalinga from his hands, the boy put the atmalinga
down on the ground and walked away in a huff.
Ravana was furious! He wanted to kill the young boy, and looked around
for him. But the boy had disappeared along with his cows.
Ravana turned back to the atmalinga and focused all his anger and energy
into picking up the linga, but it was of no use. After some time, with
Ravana’s pulling and tugging, the linga changed shape and began to look
like a cow’s ear.
Unhappily, Ravana gave up and went back to Lanka, cursing the little
cowherd without ever knowing that he was Lord Ganesha.
The atmalinga remained on earth in the holy town of Gokarna (which
itself means ‘cow’s ear’) in northern Karnataka, and today, a small statue of
Ganesha stands beside the linga on the spot where the lord is believed to
have met Ravana.
 Hanuman

Brothers Turn Enemies

The kingdom of Kishkindha lay on the banks of the river Tungabhadra and
boasted many mountains. The kingdom was ruled by the monkey king Vali
along with his brother, Sugriva.
One day, Mayavi, a demon, came to the gates of the kingdom and
challenged Vali to a fight. Vali accepted the challenge and agreed to fight
him. Soon, the battle began and Sugriva became a witness to the fight. As
the fight progressed, Mayavi entered a cave nearby and Vali, in his haste,
followed the demon. Before entering the cave, Vali asked Sugriva to wait
for him and went inside alone.
Six months went by and Vali did not emerge from the cave. Finally,
Sugriva heard yelling and saw blood oozing out of the cave. He concluded
that his brother had been killed. With a heavy heart, Sugriva rolled a
boulder to seal the cave’s mouth shut and contain the demon.
Kishkindha was now left without a king, and Sugriva took over and
became the acting ruler.
One unexpected day, Vali walked into the kingdom—alive and well.
When he saw Sugriva, he became upset with him. ‘How dare you rule the
kingdom? And why did you close the mouth of the cave when I told you to
wait for me?’
Sugriva folded his hands and replied earnestly, ‘My dear brother, I heard
terrible screams and saw a lot of blood on the ground near the cave. That’s
why I assumed that the demon had killed you, and in the interest of wanting
to save the subjects of the kingdom, I blocked the mouth of the cave. I am
only the acting ruler and took over in your absence. Kindly forgive me and
take back your kingdom.’
Vali, however, was in no mood to listen or forgive. ‘Do you think I can
die so easily at the hands of a mere demon? Aren’t you aware of the boons
and my strength? Your actions stink of planning and purposefulness. You
never intended to let me out, and you did your best to ensure that I
remained trapped. You have also always had eyes for my beautiful wife,
Tara. Come on, admit that this is all true.’
Sugriva’s responses did not satisfy Vali, and he yelled at his brother,
‘Leave this kingdom. Now. If you enter my lands, I will kill you. As an act
of revenge, I will detain your wife, Ruma. She will not be accompanying
you.’
Left with no choice, Sugriva departed from the land.
Sage Matanga lived in Rishyamukha Mountain. As Vali grew powerful,
his arrogance also grew and became the cause of a curse from Matanga,
who said, ‘O Vali, your pride is at a peak, and you have become blind to
your flaws. If you enter the kingdom of Kishkindha, you will instantly die!’
Vali, therefore, stayed away from Kishkindha. Sugriva took advantage of
this and came back to the kingdom to rule it. But he was aware that he must
not cross the kingdom’s boundaries at any cost.
Yet, Vali remained extremely powerful. He had the ability to travel in all
directions to perform his daily prayers to Lord Surya, who moved from east
to west, and even had a special boon that allowed him to gain half of his
opponent’s energy whenever he fought anyone in single combat. It made
him virtually indestructible, but he remained unhappy at the loss of his
kingdom.
Kishkindha is recognized today as the heritage site of Hampi in northern
Karnataka. It is this kingdom that gave rise to the great empire of
Vijayanagara.

A Greater Purpose

Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati were living together happily for a long
time. One day, Parvati felt that she was carrying a baby in her womb. As
time passed, she became certain that the baby was extraordinary. So she
turned to her husband and said, ‘I can feel the baby bursting with energy
inside my body, and I cannot keep it much longer. Tell me, what should I
do?’
‘Why don’t you transfer the energy and the baby to Mother Earth?’
advised Lord Shiva. ‘After all, she is the epitome of patience and
perseverance, and she can hold anything.’
So Parvati transferred the baby to Mother Earth through her belly button.
Surprisingly, Earth also found it difficult to hold the child in her womb. As
she struggled to take care of it, Vayu, the lord of the wind, visited her and
saw the condition she was in.
He said, ‘Please don’t worry. I have a solution. Anjana Devi, the queen of
the monkeys, who is married to King Kesari, is desperate for a baby and is a
great devotee of Shiva. For years, she has been performing a penance to
become a mother. And this baby is Shiva’s own child. I will transport the
baby to Anjana’s womb. What could be a better reward for her penance?’
Thus, the unborn baby was transferred to Anjana’s womb with the help of
Vayu. In due course, a baby boy was born and named Anjaneya.
Even when the child was young, he was extraordinary in every way,
mentally agile and physically very strong. Everyone was delighted by him.
He had the blessings and protection of Lord Shiva, Lord Vayu and King
Kesari. Nobody could touch him.
One day, Anjaneya saw the sun shining in the sky, looking like a juicy
yellow mango! Since he was hungry, he flew to the sky and chased the sun,
who ran straight to Indra. The sun complained to the king of the gods that
he was in danger because of the young monkey prince.
Indra was upset with Anjaneya. He took his mighty weapon Vajrayudha
and slapped Anjaneya on the cheek. Anjaneya’s face and chin changed
shape, and he began falling from the sky. When Vayu saw this happening,
he was distraught. ‘How dare Indra hit this baby whom I brought to
Anjana’s womb from Mother Earth? This child is precious and a reflection
of Shiva!’
Upset, the lord of the wind vanished from the earth and people began
dying without air. The world came to a standstill.
Everyone requested Indra to ask for forgiveness from Vayu and to bless
Anjaneya.
 Indra saw the threat to the human race and asked Vayu for forgiveness,
and the wind returned to the earth.
From that day on, Anjaneya was called Hanuman, or ‘the one with a
prominent chin’. He also has many other names, like Maruti, Kesari
Nandana and Bajaranga Bali (‘the strong one’).
All the gods promised Vayu to assist the young child, and each gave a
boon to the young monkey prince.
Brahma’s boon protected Hanuman such that nobody would be able to
kill him with any weapon in a war.
Shiva blessed him with longevity, spiritual wisdom and the ability to
cross oceans.
Indra declared that Vajrayudha would no longer have any effect on
Hanuman, because he would be stronger than the weapon itself.
Varuna, the lord of water, promised Hanuman that he would always be
protected by water.
Agni, the god of fire, blessed him with immunity from burning.
Surya gave him two boons—Yagima and Garima—through which he
could change his size any time and become miniature or gigantic.
Yama, the lord of death, blessed him with a healthy life free from
Yamadanga (the weapon of Yama), thus making him immortal.
Kubera blessed him that he may always be happy and content.
Vishwakarma vouched that he would be protected from all his creations
that were in the forms of weapons.
Vayu blessed him with more speed than he had himself—he would be
faster than the wind.
Once Hanuman had received all these boons, he wanted to receive his
education from Surya and learn everything. He enlarged his body, went to
the sun god and asked him to teach him. Surya, however, refused. ‘I would
really love to teach you, but I am always on the move in my chariot. How
will I be able to teach you effectively?’
Hanuman smiled. ‘O Sun God, don’t worry. I will stand still, keeping one
leg in the east and one in the west. I will listen to you with concentration.’
Surya was happy to see his devotion and taught him all that he knew.
When Hanuman finished learning, he asked what gurudakshina his
teacher would accept.
Surya refused to take any because he felt lucky to have such a devoted
and sincere student like Hanuman.
 When Hanuman insisted, Surya said, ‘Go to Kishkindha, where my
spiritual son, Sugriva, resides. He requires a wise minister and a
companion. You are born for a great purpose, and that will be possible only
if you are there. Help my son until you get called for your duty.’ Surya
knew that a day would come when Hanuman would meet Rama and
Lakshmana during the course of his duty to Sugriva.
 During his childhood, Hanuman was very mischievous. He troubled
sages while they were in meditation and disturbed them. One day, some of
the sages became upset, even though they knew that Hanuman was a child
and born to fulfil a greater purpose. ‘You have great power, child, but may
you forget all about it until the right person comes along and reminds you,’
they admonished Hanuman.
In the Ramayana, when Hanuman had to cross a stretch of water to reach
Lanka, he became worried. How would he do it? Then Jambuvanta the bear
reminded Hanuman of his powers, thereby helping him cross the ocean.
That’s how Hanuman rediscovered his powers, which stayed with him for
ever after.

Five Candles, One Breath

Ahiravana and Mahiravana were Ravana’s powerful and ruthless

stepbrothers who ruled Patala Loka. They were devotees of Goddess
Mahamaya.
When Indrajit, son of Ravana and Mandodari, met his end fighting for his
father in the war, Ravana became dejected. He remembered his stepbrothers
and called upon them. When they arrived, he said to them, ‘You must
capture Rama and Lakshmana and sacrifice them to Mahamaya. Since these
are pious princes, your sacrifice will bring you prosperity.’
Almost instantly, Ravana’s youngest brother, Vibhishana, learnt of this
development through his spies and sent word to Hanuman. ‘You must take
care of Rama and Lakshmana because either Ahiravana or Mahiravana will
attempt to kidnap them as they rest.’
Forewarned, Hanuman kept a tight vigil on the brothers and thwarted
Ahiravana’s multiple attempts. In a smart move, Ahiravana took the form of
Vibhishana and entered the camp. Before Hanuman or the soldiers could
react, Ahiravana kidnapped the brothers and took them to Patala.
Humiliated, Hanuman went to Vibhishana. ‘Sir,’ he said, ‘I have failed
my duty. I mistook Ahiravana to be you and allowed him inside the camp. I
was cheated. Please help us.’
Vibhishana indicated the urgency of the matter. ‘Hanuman, I know what
those brothers are capable of. If you don’t rescue Rama and Lakshmana
immediately, the asuras are sure to slay them as sacrifice. You can save
them. Leave now.’
With those words ringing in his ears, Hanuman turned around and made
his way to Patala. He defeated the gatekeepers and the security guards and
entered the realm, noticing five candles located in five different directions.
The asura brothers had a huge and strong army, and Hanuman knew that
these were no ordinary candles—the only way to defeat the armies was to
blow out all the candles in one go.
With less than a second’s thought, Hanuman knew what he had to do.
Instinctively, four additional heads popped up on his neck and he became
Panchamukha, or ‘the five-headed one’. With all the strength that he could
muster, Hanuman blew out all the candles together.
 Thus, Hanuman defeated Ahiravana and Mahiravana easily. Pleased, he
rescued Rama and Lakshmana and brought both of them back to the camp.
Even today, Hanuman is worshipped as Panchamukha Pranesha in a few
locations in India.
 The Ball of Sand and the Five Witnesses

When Rama and Lakshmana returned from exile, they went to Gaya to
perform the last sacred rites (or shraadha) for their dead father. The river
Phalgu, considered sacred and believed to flow from Vishnu’s feet, passed
by the town of Gaya.
As the brothers bathed in the river, Sita sat alone on the side, playing
with the sand.
To her surprise, the spirit of Dasharatha appeared in front of her and said,
‘I am very hungry.’
‘Will you be kind enough to wait until your sons finish the required
rituals and give the traditional pinda (ball made of rice and sesame seeds)
daan?’ asked Sita.
‘Oh, rice or sand does not matter. Just give me something immediately,’
the spirit insisted.
Sita could not refuse her father-in-law and give him a pinda made of
sand.
When Rama began performing the shraadha with the rice balls,
Dasharatha did not appear. Rama wondered aloud, ‘Why has father not
appeared yet?’
Sita knew that Dasharatha was no longer hungry because she had already
fed him. So she recounted her actions to her husband. Rama, however, did
not accept the story. Instead, he asked, ‘How can I believe that my father ate
a sand ball instead of the rice ball? I need some witness to this incident.’
 Sita recalled that there were, in fact, five witnesses to her actions—an old
man, a cow, a tulsi plant, the river Phalgu and a pipal tree.
Since most of the witnesses were afraid of disappointing Rama, they all
lied. ‘We don’t know the sequence of events,’ they said.
The pipal tree, however, admitted the truth.
The lack of truthfulness from the other witnesses made Sita furious. She
said, ‘I curse all of you who have lied today. Life will teach you lessons that
will make you realize the error of your ways. Until you truly repent, you
will never find happiness.’ People believe that this is why old age is filled
with a lot of difficulties, a cow is unable to fend off attacks on her own, a
tulsi plant never grows into a tree and the Phalgu is perpetually short of
water.
She turned and blessed the pipal tree. ‘O blessed one, whoever performs
the prayers for their ancestors in front of you will ensure that their ancestors
go to heaven.’
This is why people perform shraadha near the pipal tree.
 The Power of a Name

King Shakuntan was the ruler of a small kingdom.

One day, as he was returning from a hunt, he saw the sages Vasishtha,
Vishvamitra and Atri performing a yagna in an ashram. Since the king’s
body was covered with sweat, dust and blood from the hunt, he did not
want to desecrate the holy ceremony. From where he stood, he could only
see Vasishtha clearly. So he bowed to him from a distance and carried on
with his journey.
Narada, who had been observing the king, entered the ashram. Narada is
known for instigating fights to humour himself, and that is just what he did.
He said, ‘O Atri and Vishvamitra, didn’t you notice that Shakuntan did
not greet you both? He has deliberately insulted you by only bowing to
Vasishtha.’
Sage Atri smiled. ‘He did not do that to insult us, Narada. I was sitting
opposite Vasishtha and he may not even have seen me,’ he said. ‘In any
case, it doesn’t matter.’
Vishvamitra, however, was offended. ‘How dare the king insult me? He
needs to be punished.’
Narada immediately agreed. ‘Yes, yes, he must. You are no less powerful
than Vasishtha. You are also the great guru of the great warriors Rama and
Lakshmana. Perhaps you should take a promise from Rama to punish
Shakuntan as soon as possible.’
Vishvamitra nodded and called Rama. ‘My dear student,’ he said,
‘Shakuntan has insulted me, and I want his head at my feet before the sun
sets today.’
 Dutiful Rama promised his teacher that he would do so.
Meanwhile, Narada rushed to Shakuntan’s kingdom. He met the king and
asked, ‘Do you know the sort of difficulty you have put yourself in? Rama,
the great warrior and the son of Dasharatha, is going to behead you by the
end of the day at the behest of Sage Vishvamitra. Your death is certain at
the hands of the lord.’
Shakuntan was alarmed. ‘But what have I done to offend the great sage? I
am only the ruler of a small kingdom.’
‘Don’t think of that now.’ Narada waved his hand in impatience. ‘Your
focus must be on surviving the day. Rama always keeps his word.’
‘O Narada,’ said the king, ‘please help me. I don’t know how I got
myself into this, but you have brought this disastrous news to me, so you
must also help formulate a solution to this problem.’
This was just what Narada wanted. He put on an appeasing and wise tone
and said, ‘Go find Anjana, Hanuman’s mother, and ask her to shield you,
without mentioning the name of the person you seek protection from. She
will take care of the rest.’
King Shakuntan ran to Kishkindha and found Anjana performing prayers
to Lord Shiva in her home. The king went and touched her feet. ‘O Divine
Mother!’ he exclaimed. ‘Please help me. A man has decided to take my
head today for no fault of mine. You are the mother of the great Hanuman,
and without your help I will not live to see the day end.’
At first Anjana was disturbed. She did not know what to do. Then she
thought over it. A small-time king had come in search of protection and it
wasn’t such a big ask. She knew her son could perform this job with ease.
So she promised Shakuntan, ‘I will tell Hanuman to protect you. He never
disobeys me. Now you may leave your worries aside and feel assured of
your safety.’
‘Give me your word,’ Shakuntan insisted.
‘Fine. You have my word. I promise on Lord Rama’s name that Hanuman
will protect you,’ said Anjana and continued her prayers.
Shakuntan felt relieved and waited.
As soon as Hanuman came home and Anjana finished her prayers, she
told her son to protect Shakuntan. ‘Yes, I will protect you,’ said Hanuman.
‘Now, tell me, who wants to kill you before sunset?’
‘It is Lord Rama,’ replied the king, much to Hanuman’s dismay.
Shakuntan explained the sequence of events. Hanuman sat down and
meditated to find a solution. He saw through his mind’s eye how Narada
had manipulated the incident. Now Hanuman had already promised the king
that he would ensure his safety.
After some thought, Hanuman told the king, ‘Chant Rama’s name until
you hear further from me. Go now.’
Meanwhile, Hanuman headed to Ayodhya, travelling at the speed of the
wind. At Rama’s palace, he told the lord about how Narada had played a
trick on Shakuntan. Hanuman beseeched the lord not to wage a war against
the poor king.
‘I agree that it is an unfair trick, my dear friend. However, I have given
my word. I have to complete this task, come what may,’ Rama replied
heavily.
‘But how can I fight against you? I have promised to protect Shakuntan,
my lord.’
‘Then you stick to your promise and I will stick to mine. In my kingdom,
no one must break a promise.’
‘Give me your word, Lord, that whoever chants your name will not be
disturbed or targeted until they have completed the chanting. I hope you can
at least do that!’
Rama said, ‘But of course! That is fine.’
With limited options in sight, Hanuman thought of Angada, the son of
Vali, who was very dear to the lord. Perhaps he could mediate and convince
Rama not to fight against Hanuman. So Angada arrived in Ayodhya and
spoke to Rama. ‘Hanuman is your truest devotee, Lord. Think of his
everlasting devotion and the way he assisted you in the war against
Ravana.’
‘I agree with all you say, Angada, but I must present Shakuntan’s head at
my guru’s feet before sunset; I have promised him so. There is no other
solution,’ said Rama.
Anjana, who was dismayed at the misery she had caused by offering to
help the king, said to her son, ‘Hanuman, please go and pray to Sita. She is
sure to identify a solution.’
Hanuman instantly went to Sita’s abode and apprised her of the situation.
‘Rama won’t listen to anyone,’ she said. ‘Instead, I give you a boon, dear
one. There is no devotee as precious as you. So when Rama’s arrows try to
pierce you, they will turn into flowers instead.’
 Soon, the news spread that a battle between Rama and Hanuman was to
take place before the end of the day. Everyone, including Narada, came to
the site of the battle.
Hanuman created a fort with his long tail and told Shakuntan to stay
there.
And the battle began.
Rama began shooting arrows at Hanuman. To his surprise, the arrows
seemed to have no effect. So he asked Lakshmana to find out the cause.
Soon, Lakshmana returned and said, ‘Brother, this battle is futile. You have
promised that whoever chants your name will be protected. Shakuntan is
busy chanting your name and that’s why none of the arrows are reaching
him. Meanwhile, I have heard that Mother Sita has given a boon to
Hanuman that transforms your arrows into flowers as soon as they touch his
body. So there is a heap of flowers near Hanuman’s feet. Hanuman is also
chanting your name. No one can fight against your devotees, brother.’
Just then, Narada stepped in. ‘I am the one who orchestrated the drama,’
he said. ‘I wanted to prove that it is not you but the power of your name that
can protect anyone in difficulty. Now that the point has been made, please
forgive Shakuntan.’
By then, Sage Vishvamitra had also realized his folly. ‘I am an ascetic,
and I must gain control over my anger, like Atri and Vasishtha have done. It
is my mistake. Please end the battle.’
 ‘No, I can’t. I have promised to bring his head to your feet, Guruji. I
come from a dynasty where a given word must be fulfilled,’ responded
Rama.
‘Then so it will be,’ replied Narada. ‘Let us have Shakuntan place his
head at Vishvamitra’s feet. That is all that is really needed for the promise
to be fulfilled.’
Rama smiled and realized the truth in Narada’s words. He nodded.
Soon, Shakuntan came and bowed his head to Rama and, as the sun
began to set, placed his head on Vishvamitra’s feet. The battle ended and
everyone smiled at the turn of events.
 The End of Rama

When Sita, grieved at her word and integrity being questioned again and
again, stepped into Mother Earth’s embrace and disappeared, and Luv and
Kusha became young boys, Lord Brahma decided that it was the time for
Rama to ‘return to Heaven’. He had completed his purpose on earth. So he
sent Time in the form of a wandering ascetic to the earth.
This ascetic came and met Rama and said, ‘I have very important things
to discuss with you, my lord, but on one condition: nobody should listen to
us or disturb our meeting.’
Rama smiled and said, ‘That is not a problem. My doorkeepers will take
care of that.’
The ascetic shook his head. ‘No, Rama. When the pressure mounts, the
doorkeepers may give way. Hence, I request you to appoint your most
trusted person to stand guard at the door, and tell him strictly to not disturb
the meeting, else he will meet his death.’
Rama was surprised by this strange request. He guessed that there was
more to the man in front of him than what met the eye. He said, ‘All right.
Lakshmana, my brother, will keep guard. He will never disobey me.’
Rama turned towards Lakshmana and said, ‘O Lakshmana, you have
heard the conversation. I request you, brother, to ensure that nobody
disturbs us. Be careful not to let our discussion touch your ears, and under
no circumstances should you disturb the meeting.’
Lakshmana nodded and stepped outside. He closed the door behind him
and stood guard.
 Once Rama and the ascetic were alone, the ascetic changed and revealed
his true identity.
‘O Lord Rama, I am Time, and your time as a human is over. You have
done your duty. It is time to hand over your kingdom and go back to
heaven.’
‘I agree. I am ready,’ said Rama unflinchingly.
Meanwhile, Rishi Durvasa approached Rama’s chambers. He looked at
Lakshmana and said, ‘I want to meet your brother right now. It is urgent and
critical to the Ikshvaku clan.’
Lakshmana stopped him. ‘Your Holiness, I cannot disturb him. There is
an important meeting going on.’
The sage was offended. ‘What is the meaning of that? Am I not
important? If you don’t tell Rama that I have come to meet him, I am going
to curse Ayodhya.’
Lakshmana thought, ‘If I go disturb my brother, I am sure to die. But if I
don’t, the sage will curse Ayodhya. It is better that I suffer than let the
people of Ayodhya bear the brunt of the sage’s curse. Ayodhya must always
stay prosperous and safe.’
Thus, Lakshmana knocked on the door. Hearing the knock, Time looked
at Rama and said, ‘Now the end has come. It will tell you how you have to
go.’
Saying thus, he disappeared.
Lakshmana entered the room and told his brother that Sage Durvasa
stood outside, waiting to meet him. Rama understood that the sage was the
messenger Time had spoken about. He looked at Durvasa, his face calm and
stoic, and asked, ‘Sir, how can I help you? It is a pleasure to see you.’
‘I have done penance for a long time, and I have realized that Time will
come in the form of a sage to meet you. Be careful,’ warned the sage.
Rama nodded and smiled, and requested Lakshmana, ‘Please arrange
everything for the sage.’
‘No, I am in a hurry and have done my duty,’ replied Durvasa. Then he
turned around and left.
Rama was in a pensive mood. He reflected on how Lakshmana had
always been by his side. Whether it was the gurukul, the exile to the forest,
Lanka or leaving Sita in the forest, Lakshmana had been like his shadow,
standing silently behind him. Now, he had to sentence Lakshmana to death.
If he didn’t do so, he would have gone against the promise he had made to
Time. Keeping one’s promise was the custom upheld rigidly by the
Raghuvamsha.
Raghukul reet sada chali aaye
Praana jaaye par vachan na jaaye.

This custom of the Raghu or Suryavamshi clan has prevailed. One’s life
may be lost, but a promise once made will not be broken.
Lakshmana looked at his brother and said, ‘Please don’t worry. You are
known as a man of your word. Do not lament what has happened. We are
destined to follow our paths and we have to accept what falls before us. You
taught me that duty must be carried out without attachment or aversion. I
accept the death penalty happily.’
Rama knew all those things, but still it was a difficult task for him.
Lakshmana did not wait for his brother’s order. He went to the river Sarayu
and began to walk towards the middle of the river. He practised mystic yoga
and transformed into his original form of Adishesha (the king of the nagas),
on which Vishnu always resides.
After Lakshmana’s departure, Rama decided to appoint Bharata as his
successor and go to the river too, but Bharata refused.
‘O Rama! This kingdom is of no use without you. I am always a part of
you. Whatever you do, I will follow,’ said Bharata.
Then Rama looked at Shatrughna. Without hesitation, Shatrughna said,
‘Wherever Bharata goes, so will Shatrughna. I don’t need this kingdom.’
Finally, Rama decided to divide the kingdom and wealth. He gave Kusha
the northern part of Kausala and Luv the southern part, and gave a share of
the kingdom to each of the sons of his brothers Lakshmana, Bharata and
Shatrughna. The citizens learnt about Rama’s plans and were grieved. They
gathered at the banks of the Sarayu.
Rama bid goodbye to everyone and submerged himself in the river. He
was followed by Bharata and then Shatrughna in the same manner. Thus,
the sons of Dasharatha became one with the river Sarayu and left earth.
 Rama turned into Mahavishnu; Bharata and Shatrughna transformed into
the shankha and the chakra. Adishesha hunched his hood over and behind
Mahavishnu. Thus they rose up to heaven, much to the awe of all the
bystanders.
Today, Sarayu flows through Faizabad, which is near Lucknow in the
state of Uttar Pradesh. On the banks of the river is a ghat and four temples
for the four brothers who lived together and went together in death.
 Time Travel

Whenever Yama, the lord of death, would attempt to visit Rama to tell him
the amount of time he had left in his human form, Hanuman would refuse
entry to him. Yama was aware of Hanuman’s strength and the boon of
immortality granted to him, and did not want to cross him.
Rama, however, understood that a human life must complete the cycle of
birth and death. He knew that Hanuman was trying to protect him from
death by avoiding the meeting with Yama, but Rama accepted the fact that
he must meet Yama at some point. He realized that it was not possible to do
so with Hanuman around.
One day, Rama and Hanuman went out for a walk. Rama took off his ring
and began playing with it. Discreetly, he dropped it into a small crack on
the ground. Rama requested Hanuman, ‘I have dropped my ring
somewhere. Will you please retrieve it for me?’
Hanuman nodded and transformed his body to such a small size that he
could easily get into the crack in the ground. The closer he got to the ring,
the more the ring fell farther and farther down, until he had no choice but to
follow it.
After a long time, the ring reached Patala. There, Hanuman met
Nagaraja, the king of the serpents. Hanuman said, ‘Rama’s ring has fallen
here somewhere. Will you please give it back to me? I must return it to
him.’
‘I have a room full of rings. Everything that falls from the earth is kept
there,’ replied Nagaraja. ‘You can go into the room and search for your
ring.’
 Hanuman nodded. When he entered the room, he saw hundreds of rings.
He kept searching until he found the ring that he was looking for; it seemed
to take barely a few minutes. Hanuman thanked Nagaraja and made his way
back to Ayodhya. But time takes on a different meaning in Patala. A second
there is worth many years on the earth. By the time Hanuman reached the
city, much time had already passed, and Rama had already left his mortal
body and achieved mahanirvana.
To his dismay, Hanuman realized that he had missed seeing the lord exit
the earth. Hanuman felt miserable but knew that the lord wanted things to
play out in that manner.
Even today, Hanuman continues to live on our planet. There is a strong
belief that wherever there are prayers to Rama, Hanuman appears in his
invisible form to bless the devotees.
 Ramayana in Different Countries

Unlike other civilizations, India has not colonized any country.

In our country, various versions of the Ramayana exist. The Jain
Ramayana is different from the Hindu one. In the Jain Ramayana,
Lakshmana battles against Ravana, kills him and brings Sita back to her
husband.
Historically, Indian merchants travelled to various places, particularly
South East Asia. Wherever they went, they took our epics with them. The
local people were fascinated by our culture and adopted it with their own
flavour. They even altered the stories in the Ramayana to adapt them to
local tastes and sensibilities. The Valmiki version of the epic somewhat
changed during its translation to regional languages, and in most cases, the
plots and schematic adaptations have also been altered.
You can easily see the traces of the legends in the Ramayana in
Myanmar, Indonesia, Cambodia, Laos, Philippines, Sri Lanka, Nepal,
Thailand, Malaysia, Mongolia and Vietnam. In all these countries, stage
performances of Ramayana are also quite popular.
In Thailand, the royal families believe that they are the descendants of
Rama; the kings of Thailand title their last name as Rama and refer to their
capital as Ayutthaya (strongly reminiscent of Ayodhya). Ramakien, an epic
of Thailand, means ‘the glory of Rama’, and the country boasts related
shadow puppet shows, paintings, dances and dramas. Rama is depicted with
a deep green face in paintings and Lakshmana with a gold face, while
Hanuman is showcased as a white monkey. Hanuman there is believed to
have many partners, in contrast to the celibate Hanuman we worship here in
India.
Further south, in Cambodia, Buddhism influences the depiction of the
balance of good and evil in the world, while the text itself is called
Yamayana in Myanmar, with some changes to it.
Despite the various versions and depictions, one character remains the
same—Rama. He is victorious, good-looking and has a great personality—
the best among men.
 The Lunar Dynasty

The Lunar dynasty, or Chandravamsha, was blessed with kings like

Nahusha, Yayati, Puru, Dushyanta, Bharata, Hastin, Shantanu,
Dhritarashtra, Pandu, the Pandavas, the Kauravas, Parikshit and Janmajeya.
Yadu was one of the sons of King Yayati and Queen Devayani. When
King Yayati was cursed by the sage Shukra to become prematurely and
instantly old, he looked towards his son Yadu to negotiate an exchange of
youth. Yadu, however, refused his father’s request. Angry Yayati cursed his
son. ‘May you never form a kingdom that will have a proper king or an
established lineage. May your future generations form many factions and
fight among themselves.’
Thus, Yadu was forbidden from ascending the inherited throne due to this
curse, while Puru, the youngest of the sons, exchanged his youth with his
father’s. His offspring came to be known as the Puruvamshas. Meanwhile,
Yadu became responsible for the creation of a separate lineage called the
Yaduvamshas that became an offset of the lunar dynasty. The men came to
be known as Yadavas and the women Yadavis. Krishna and his brother,
Balarama, were born in this dynasty. However, the dynasty ended with the
death of Krishna.
 The Diamond That Produced Gold

There once was a wealthy man named Satrajitha who lived in the city of
Dwarka, the capital of the Yadava kingdom and a prosperous seaport.
Satrajitha owned an extraordinary diamond, Shamantakamani, which he
had obtained after a strict penance to Surya, the sun god. When exposed to
the sun, the diamond produced gold. This made Satrajitha very rich in very
little time. This instant and easy financial elevation made Satrajitha and his
brother, Prasenajith, extremely arrogant and rude to most people.
Satrajitha had a beautiful daughter called Satyabhama. In time, she fell in
love with Lord Krishna. Krishna, however, was unaware of her feelings.
One day, Krishna was discussing the matters of Dwarka with his friends
and cousins—Satyaki, Kritavarma and Akrura. When the subject of
Shamantakamani came up, one of the cousins said, ‘Satrajitha’s arrogance
has no end. He thinks he is greater than even a king, and refuses to obey the
laws of the kingdom because of his pride due to the perennial source of
gold.’
‘Such a source of wealth must not be the possession of one person.
Unless a person is equipped to handle such an extraordinary gift, time and
power is sure to corrupt the average man. For the sake of Dwarka and the
Yadavas, Shamantakamani must become a part of the king’s treasury, and
the gold obtained from it should be used for the development of the
kingdom,’ said Krishna.
‘But who will dare tell Satrajitha?’
‘I will talk to him,’ said Krishna. ‘It doesn’t matter to me even if he is
rude. People still call me a coward or Rannchodji because I chose to
evacuate Mathura with my people when Jarasandha came to create havoc in
the city. Instead of fighting a losing battle and sacrificing the lives of my
people, I chose to run away from the battlefield. That’s because I care more
for the welfare of my people than for my reputation. It was the best solution
in that situation. So I am not worried about Satrajitha’s response. Peace and
prosperity of the kingdom is much more important than my ego.’
So the following day, Krishna went to Satrajitha’s mansion. Satrajitha
welcomed him, but wondered why Krishna had visited him.
Krishna openly spoke about the diamond and shared his thoughts.
When the suggestion to give the diamond away to the kingdom came up,
Satrajitha refused. ‘The Shamantakamani belongs to my family and it was a
gift from the sun god. I worship the diamond twice a day. It must stay
where it truly belongs,’ said Satrajitha.
Krishna tried to use his charm to convince Satrajitha of the larger good,
but it was of no use. At the end of the unfruitful visit, Krishna firmly said,
‘There will come a day, my dear friend, when Shamantakamani will no
longer be with you, but with the kingdom. In fact, I will ensure it.’
Saying thus, Krishna departed, but it left Satrajitha anxious.
Satyabhama, who had been hiding and listening to the conversation
between Krishna and her father, lost all hope of becoming the lord’s wife
and cried more than she ever had. Instead, she had now become the
daughter of Krishna’s enemy.
Soon, Satrajitha and Prasenajith began strategizing their next move.
‘Krishna is capable of playing outstanding tricks to take the diamond from
us when we least expect it. So we must hide it immediately. The best place
to do so is to keep it deep in the forest in a cave,’ suggested Satrajitha.
Prasenajith nodded in agreement.
‘You must leave early in the morning tomorrow, Prasenajith, and take the
diamond to our friend, Jambuvanta. You can disguise it by wearing it as a
pendant around your neck and hide it beneath your clothes. Once enough
time has passed and the matter is forgotten, we will retrieve the diamond,’
instructed Satrajitha.
According to plan, Prasenajith left for his destination in the morning.
A few days passed and there was no news from Prasenajith. Satrajitha
became concerned about why his brother had not returned. He waited a few
more days, but Prasenajith did not return.
So Satrajitha started a rumour in the city.
 ‘Krishna has stolen Shamantakamani from Satrajitha. After he visited
Satrajitha’s home, he threatened to take it away from him by any means
possible. Now the diamond has disappeared along with Prasenajith, and
Satrajitha is beside himself with grief. Krishna is notorious for stealing
butter and ghee, and as an adult, he has graduated to an experienced thief.
He must be behind this disappearance. What a man he has become!’
The simple-minded folks believed what they heard and the news spread
like wildfire.
When Krishna heard of this, he openly refuted the allegation. ‘The news
is absolutely false. I have not stolen the Shamantakamani, nor have I even
seen Prasenajith. But now that Satrajitha claims that I am responsible, I will
leave immediately and not return until I have found the diamond. Only then
will I be able to prove my innocence.’
Satyabhama was aware that her uncle had gone to the forest. Once she
heard Krishna’s proclamation, she thought, ‘I should go get the diamond
and give it to Krishna. Maybe then he will realize the depth of my love and
return it too.’ The more she thought about it, the more it seemed like the
right thing to do. So she left for the forest quietly and without informing
anyone.
Krishna’s sources informed him that Prasenajith had left for the forest
very early the morning after Krishna’s visit. Krishna was no fool—he
immediately guessed that Prasenajith had left with Shamantakamani, and
decided to go to the forest too.
Deep in the forest, Krishna met Satyabhama, though he didn’t know who
she was. He was surprised to see a lone woman wandering the forest.
‘O Krishna!’ exclaimed Satyabhama when she saw him. ‘I know that you
have not stolen the diamond. My father, Satrajitha, gave that to my uncle to
hide somewhere in the forest with King Jambuvanta. If you can trace him,
you will find the diamond. I came here to help you but I haven’t been able
to locate him yet.’
Krishna liked Satyabhama’s courage. ‘But why did you choose to help
me and not your father?’
‘I cannot simply stand by and see you being labelled a thief!’
Satyabhama’s voice quivered with emotion.
Krishna smiled, and together they resumed the search in the forest. After
some time had passed, they noticed torn pieces of cloth on the ground and
tracks leading away—it looked as if somebody had been dragged away
from there.
Satyabhama immediately recognized the pieces of cloth. ‘Oh no! These
are my uncle’s clothes. I remember that he wore these the same morning
that he left for the forest.’
As they went farther, they saw half-eaten human remains, a lion’s dead
body, what was left of the clothes and a gold chain. Satyabhama was aghast
at what she saw.
Krishna consoled her. ‘Clearly Prasenajith came this way only to be eaten
by a hungry lion. The poor unsuspecting man! But what happened to the
Shamantakamani? It was obviously of no use to the lion.’
Krishna had just begun searching for the diamond, when he saw some
animal tracks leading away from where the clothes were found. Krishna and
Satyabhama followed the tracks and soon found themselves inside a cave.
To their surprise, there was a baby in a cradle, and the beautiful
Shamantakamani hung right on top of the cradle. The entire cave was
illuminated by the magical light from the diamond. A young tribal girl was
sitting next to the cradle and rocking the baby with her eyes closed, as if she
was in her own world.
Just then, a huge bear-man appeared out of nowhere. Before Krishna
could react, the bear man attacked him, and they fought for a long time.
Though the bear-man was old, he was quite strong, and it was a long time
before he fell to the ground in defeat.
The old bear-man wondered aloud in a human voice, ‘How can anyone
but Lord Rama defeat me? He promised me that he would visit me some
day.’
At those words, Krishna smiled mysteriously.
The bear-man realized his innocent mistake. He came forward and
hugged Krishna tightly. ‘Please forgive my ignorance, Lord! I am
Jambuvanta, the bear-man who had served you in your avatar as Lord
Rama. It was my earnest desire to wrestle with you but you wouldn’t, and
you said that you would do so in your next avatar. I am so sorry that it took
me this long to recognize you.’
Krishna smiled and explained the purpose of his visit.
‘I saw a diamond hanging from a chain that was in the mouth of a lion. I
was fascinated by this diamond and wanted to bring it for my child. So I
fought the lion and killed him. From this day on, please keep the
Shamantakamani under your protection,’ said Jambuvanta.
Then he introduced his beautiful daughter. ‘This is Jambuvati, my
motherless child. It will be my good fortune if you get married to her and
look after her baby brother too. Then I can retire to the forest.’
Krishna nodded and got married to Jambuvati, much to the grief of
Satyabhama, who stood by, a mere spectator. But Krishna turned to
Satyabhama and said enigmatically, ‘Don’t worry.’
When Krishna returned to Dwarka with the diamond, Satrajitha
apologized to the lord for his behaviour and offered his daughter’s hand in
marriage. Krishna was already aware of Satyabhama’s devotion and
accepted the proposal. Thus, Satyabhama also became Krishna’s wife.
This story of Shamantakamani is often heard on the fourth day of the
month of Bhadrapada, which is also the day of the Ganesha festival.
Legend has it that on one such festival day, Ganesha ate so much that he
could barely walk; he stumbled on a stone and fell down. His stomach burst
open and all the sweet laddoos fell out. Ganesha quickly shoved them back
in and tied a serpent around his stomach. He looked around to see if anyone
had noticed him, but there was no one. He was relieved that there was
nobody to poke fun at him.
But just then, he heard a giggle and then a snicker. He looked up and saw
the moon laughing at him.
Ganesha was upset at Chandra’s behaviour and cursed him without a
second thought. ‘Whoever looks at you on the fourth night of Bhadrapada
will be subjected to false allegations, particularly theft.’
Chandra apologized.
Then Ganesha said, ‘Please don’t worry, Chandra. There is a way to lift
this curse. Whoever listens to the story of Shamantakamani will be spared.’
That is why when we see the moon on the fourth day of Bhadrapada, we
listen to the story of the unique diamond to ward off the curse. We also
assume that Krishna must have seen Chandra, which is why he was also
known as the diamond thief for a brief period.
 Krishna and His Enemies

Unlike Rama, who had only one enemy, Krishna had multiple enemies.
When he was born, his maternal uncle wanted to kill him. Later, his cousins
also stood against him. Krishna accepted the realities of his life but
followed the path of dharma. Some of his enemies are responsible for
making Krishna whom he came to be.

Srugala Vasudeva

Srugala Vasudeva or Paundraka Vasudeva, the king of the Pundra kingdom,

fancied himself to be an incarnation of Lord Vishnu, and dressed exactly
like Krishna. He was an ardent devotee of the sun god, and through his
worship to him, Paundraka received an extraordinary chariot and horses. He
was so proud of these possessions that he looked down upon Krishna, who
did not own horses or a chariot until the war of Mahabharata took place.
Paundraka also couldn’t understand why, despite all his efforts, he was not
as popular as Krishna.
His niece Shaibya frequently taunted him—‘A rooster cannot become a
peacock.’ Her comments would upset him. Shaibya also happened to love
Krishna with all her heart, but she had no hope of getting married to him
because of her uncle’s behaviour and malice towards him.
One fine day, Srugala Vasudeva decided to wage a battle against Krishna
to display his superiority. However, Krishna defeated him easily. This is
how Krishna took ownership of the chariot and the horses, which later
became an integral part of his persona. The chariot was pulled by four white
horses, and the animals understood the lord’s mind. Krishna knew ashwa
vidya, or the art of understanding the minds of horses, and took care of
them as if they were a part of him. That is why Krishna easily became an
outstanding charioteer to Arjuna in the Mahabharata. He was the only
charioteer in the war who personally looked after the horses’ needs and
provided them with compassion at the end of every day. He was well aware
that the horses were critical in the fight against the Kauravas.
Much later, Krishna learnt of Shaibya’s love for him and married her too.

Kalayavana

Muchukunda, a famous king and a great warrior, belonged to an illustrious

family and the Ikshvaku dynasty. His brother, Ambareesha, and his father,
Mandhata, are well known in their own right.
Once, there was huge war between the devas and the asuras. The devas
were looking for a commander-in-chief, and the search led to Indra
approaching Muchukunda. ‘O King, please come and take charge as our
commander and fight for us.’
‘That will be an honour,’ replied Muchukunda, and jumped into this new
role with all his enthusiasm.
He joined the gods in Devaloka and fought a mighty war. At the end of
war, he was exhausted.
Indra said to him, ‘O Muchukunda, our original commander,
Karthikeyan, the son of Shiva and Parvati, has arrived. You have helped us
in our time of need and protected us for years. Ask me whatever you desire
and I will fulfil it.’
Muchukunda remembered his family and his kingdom. He had been so
involved in the war that he hadn’t thought about them for a long, long time.
With hope and eagerness, he said to Indra, ‘I want to go back to see my
family, children and my subjects. I would like to spend my time with them.’
Indra responded with sadness, ‘O Muchukunda, a day in the Devaloka is
not equivalent to a day on earth. You have spent several years with us in
Devaloka, but one day up here is one whole year on earth. That is why there
is no longer any sign of your family or kingdom on earth. I am happy to
give you any other boon that you desire, apart from that of moksha. That, if
you desire, is not in my hands. Only Lord Vishnu can grant such a boon.
But I can fulfil anything else that you might wish for.’
Muchukunda was sad to learn that he had no family left on earth.
Suddenly, he felt emotionally and physically drained and requested Indra,
‘Then I just want to sleep, my lord. Please just grant me a peaceful sleep.’
‘That is a small thing to ask me for, my child. I promise you that not only
will you go back to earth and enjoy sleeping, but that whoever wakes you
up will be instantly reduced to ashes.’
So Muchukunda slept in bliss on earth in a cave on a mountain, without
any disturbance and many years passed thus.
Meanwhile, there lived a cruel asura king named Kalayavana, who
disliked the Yadavas. He prayed to Lord Shiva for twelve years and earned
the boon that no Yadava would be able to slay him.
When Jarasandha, the king of the Magadha kingdom, learnt of
Kalayavana’s boon, he was ecstatic. This was the opportunity he had been
waiting for. His two daughters, Asti and Prapti, were now widows of the
king Kamsa. His daughters had returned to live with him after Krishna had
slayed their husband, and were constantly encouraging Jarasandha to take
revenge; this was his chance.
Jarasandha joined forces with Kalayavana and, declaring him the
commander of the unified army, instructed him to invade Mathura and kill
Krishna and the other Yadavas.
When Krishna learnt of the plan through his spies, he knew that he might
not be able to protect his people with his current army. So he convinced his
subjects to move west of the kingdom. He called Vishwakarma, the
architect of the heavens, and asked him to build such a city for his people
that would protect them from all sides. Thus, the port city of Dwarka was
built.
When the time came, Mathura was evacuated and Krishna stayed back by
himself. He did not want Kalayavana to get a whiff of the new city or hurt
his subjects, and misguided him by remaining in Mathura.
Just as he had anticipated, Kalayavana marched to Mathura with his
army. When he found the city empty of people, Kalayavana became livid.
‘Burn this city to ashes,’ he commanded his army. One of his spies
informed him, ‘Sir, we found a dark-skinned young man wandering around
the city. He is dressed like royalty and smiles frequently.’
 Kalayavana understood that this was none other than Krishna. ‘That is
Krishna! I will destroy him!’ he thundered. ‘I will find him and kill him
with my bare hands.’ Furious, Kalayavana immediately left to search for the
lord himself.
No sooner had Kalayavana laid his eyes on Krishna than the lord took off
running. Kalayavana followed, and while he was an outstanding warrior, his
big body could not match Krishna’s swiftness. Krishna allowed himself to
slow down, and just when it seemed that Kalayavana would catch him,
Krishna would pick up speed and run farther away. The lord kept up this
illusion of getting caught several times until Kalayavana became very tired.
Krishna approached a mountain and began climbing it. Kalayavana also
followed suit. Within a few minutes, Krishna saw a cave and speedily
entered it. His pursuer also ran into the deep cave. Minutes later,
Kalayavana saw a figure lying in a corner of the cave and covered from
head to toe with a sheet.
‘O Krishna, I see you! Now I will catch you and present you to
Jarasandha,’ Kalayavana said with a laugh. He kicked the figure hard, but
there was no movement. Then Kalayavana pulled off the sheet. To his
surprise, he saw a skeletal old man with a long beard. The man slowly stood
up and glared at Kalayavana in unrestrained anger. Who had disturbed his
sleep? As if by magic, the glare of the old man reduced Kalayavana to
ashes. The old man was none other than Muchukunda.
 Muchukunda turned around to see Krishna near him, hiding in the dark.
Muchukunda’s vision allowed him to see Krishna in the form of Lord
Vishnu. Muchukunda said, ‘O Lord, I am truly blessed to see you. I have
grown tired of living alone. Please grant me moksha. You are the only one
who has the power to do so.’
Krishna smiled and blessed him. ‘You have some time left on the earth,
my child. Pray, and moksha will be yours.’
Muchukunda nodded and decided to go pray in the Himalayas.
The place where Muchukunda met Lord Krishna is located in the Girnar
Mountains in Gujarat. Dwarka was an island city, which still exists but is
now submerged under water.

Panchajanya

Krishna and Balarama were raised in Gokul and Vrindavan as cowherds and
without formal education. The two boys were street-smart, courageous and
good strategists.
When they came to Mathura, killed Kamsa, reunited with their parents
and realized that they belonged to a royal family, some of the family elders
insisted that the boys be given a formal education befitting their royal
status. So they were sent to the ashram of Guru Sandipini to study.
In the ashram, the two boys made a good friend named Sudhama, and
together the boys completed their education quickly. Krishna, being a smart
boy, sensed that the guru and his wife carried an overwhelming sadness in
their hearts.
When the time came for them to say goodbye to their teacher, Krishna
asked, ‘Sir, you have taught us so much in such a short time. We are
grateful to you and would like to give you gurudakshina. Please tell us what
you would like us to do.’
Guru Sandipini said fondly, ‘Teaching you boys was an honour for me.
Your parents will take care of me and my family. I do not need anything
from you.’
‘But I have noticed that you and Gurumata are always sad. I wonder why,
and if there is any way I can take some of the sadness away. Can I be of any
help to both of you in this matter?’ insisted Krishna.
 Gurumata burst into tears. After she composed herself, she said, ‘Our
only son was kidnapped by the head of the Panchajana tribe while he was
walking on the seashore of Prabhasa Teertha. We were unsuccessful in
getting our child back, and that’s the sorrow you sense within us. Will you
be able to help? I can’t think of a gurudakshina that I would like more.’
‘I will get him back, Gurumata, I promise you,’ said Krishna confidently.
Krishna and Balarama went to Prabhasa Teertha and began to gather as
much information as they could. They found that the head of the
Panchajana tribe was a man called Shakasura, who lived inside the sea.
Occasionally he left his abode to trouble the people on land. He would
capture them, imprison them and force them to work for him as servants.
Krishna and Balarama decided to fight Shakasura and dived into the deep
sea to search for him. When Shakasura saw them approaching, he was very
happy that he had now found two new servants without even looking for
them.
Krishna saw many children around Shakasura and realized that the son of
his guru was among them. He also noticed that Shakasura carried an
attractive conch with him.
Krishna swam directly in front of Shakasura. ‘Release the children,’ he
commanded.
Just as the lord had expected, Shakasura instructed his soldiers, ‘Capture
the two boys.’
And just like that, the battle had begun. The two boys defeated Shakasura
very easily and forced him to surrender.
‘Promise me that you will never kidnap anyone ever again,’ ordered
Krishna.
Shakasura bowed his head. ‘I will not, Lord. I promise,’ he said. ‘Please
forgive me.’
Shakasura released the children and gave his conch as a gift to Krishna.
‘The whole world will remember your tribe and your promise. From this
day on, I will name the conch Panchajanya and blow it to signal to my
enemies that I will always protect dharma. It will be an indication to my
enemies that their end is near. The sound of the conch will also reassure my
friends that I am always with them.’
When he returned his guru’s son, Guru Sandipini had no words. ‘I wish
every teacher to have a student like you,’ he said. ‘May I be remembered as
a teacher of the lord, no matter how brief.’
 Krishna is famous for blowing the conch during Rukmini’s swayamvara.
Rukmini was in love with the lord and wanted to elope with him. Krishna,
however, had flatly refused to run away quietly. ‘I want the world to know
that I am taking you away with your consent, Rukmini,’ he said, and took
her away only after blowing the conch.

Mura

Mura was a powerful asura who had a boon from Brahma. If Mura touched
anyone during a battle, that person—mortal or immortal—would
immediately die.
Mura was also the best friend of Narakasura, whom he always assisted in
wars against Krishna. Mura had two sons, and together they protected
Narakasura’s capital fiercely. Any trespasser would be ruthlessly killed.
With the special boon from Brahma, Mura and his sons were able to
protect the city from many gods, including Indra, and invaded many
kingdoms. Mura even invaded Yama’s city, and the god of death frantically
fled on his buffalo.
Krishna knew then that he had to intervene. He sent word to Mura that he
was waiting for him on the seashore.
When Mura finally arrived, the lord was gentle. ‘Tell me, Mura, what do
you want? Why are you causing trouble everywhere?’
‘I love to fight, Lord. If you are ready for a battle, then let us fight each
other. Otherwise, please do not waste my time,’ the asura replied.
‘But I am scared, Mura,’ said Krishna, pretending to be afraid. ‘How can
I fight an asura who has chased away the likes of Yama and Indra? My heart
is beating loudly. I think I can hear your heart beating equally loudly. Are
you frightened too?’
‘Of course not,’ Mura replied immediately.
‘But I can feel it,’ said Krishna. ‘Your heart is clearly trembling.’
‘It isn’t!’ said Mura and placed his hand to his heart to check. The boon
that Brahma had given him came to play, and before Mura realized what he
had done, he lay dead at Krishna’s feet.
From this day on, Krishna also came to be known as Murari.

Narakasura
Narakasura was the son of Hiranyaksha and a mighty asura with a big
kingdom and enormous power. The capital of his kingdom was
Pragjyotishpura (today’s Guwahati). He had a special weapon known as
Vaishnavastra, and he used it against kings, commoners, gods and his
subjects. He was notorious for his defeat of Indra. He had taken Indra’s
royal accessories and his mother Aditi’s earrings.
A revered astrologer once said to Narakasura, ‘If you imprison 16,000
women, you will become invincible.’
Hearing this prediction, Narakasura immediately began kidnapping girls
and imprisoning them. Whoever stood in his way was ruthlessly executed.
Indra felt helpless, and knew that another onslaught would take place in
the heavens and on earth if he did nothing. So he went to Krishna and asked
for help.
Krishna agreed to help, and his wife Satyabhama accompanied him. So
Krishna travelled on his vehicle, Garuda, to Pragjyotishpura and blew his
conch—to announce his presence to the helpless and to declare a war
against his enemies.
Narakasura sent many generals to fight Krishna, but they all failed.
Krishna killed everyone, including Mura.
Finally, Narakasura decided to fight Krishna himself. The two faced each
other even as the battle around them continued. The face-off was fierce. At
the end, Satyabhama wounded Narakasura using a bow and arrow, and
Krishna took the opportunity to kill him. He had to use all his weapons to
defeat Narakasura. This is the only avatar where Krishna used his weapons
as well as those of Vishnu. He used the Sudarshan Chakra (which he
received from Vishwakarma), Panchajanya (which he obtained from the
Panchajana tribe), the mace Koumodiki, the sword Nandaka, and his bow
and arrow Sharanga.
As Krishna killed Narakasura, some of Narakasura’s blood splashed on to
Krishna’s body.
Bhagadatta, Narakasura’s son, rushed to his father. When Krishna saw
him, he said, ‘I don’t want to make an enemy out of you, Bhagadatta, and I
do not desire your kingdom. The only reason I killed your father is that he
was harassing everybody around him. Do not follow in your father’s
footsteps. I hope that you will rule justly and lead a good life.’
Bhagadatta, who was filled with sorrow at his father’s death, realized the
truth in Krishna’s words. He nodded.
 ‘Please release all the imprisoned women,’ said Krishna.
Bhagadatta ordered his guards to release the imprisoned women.
When the women saw Krishna, they said that they wanted to live in
Dwarka so that they may always be near their saviour. Krishna readily
agreed. Hence, Krishna is also known to be the protector of 16,000 women.
Bhagadatta returned the earrings of Aditi, Indra’s mother, and Indra’s
royal accessories. He also presented Indra a heavenly flowering tree called
Parijata.
At the end of the long day, Krishna took an oil bath to remove all the
blood from his body.
Later, Krishna returned to Dwarka with Satyabhama and the citizens of
the city were ecstatic. It was the fourteenth day from Amavasya, a moonless
night. In an effort to welcome the lord, they cleaned their houses, threw
away the junk, whitewashed their homes and lit lamps in the early hours of
the morning.
Today, we celebrate this festival as Diwali. Just like the citizens of
Dwarka, we clean our homes before Diwali and get rid of the things we do
not need. We have an oil bath to indicate the cleansing of our bodies and
souls. This festival signifies the welcoming of Lord Krishna after his
victory against Narakasura and is one of the many stories behind this
celebration.
 Visions of a Blind Grandmother

Pradyumna was the first son of Lord Krishna and Rukmini.

Sambasura, a powerful demon king, had a blind grandmother who could
see visions of the past and the future. She was aware that he was looking for
opportunities to harm Krishna.
One day, she said to him, ‘My child, don’t fight with Krishna. If you
continue down this path, you will lose your children and your life.’
‘But there’s no one in this world who can slay me. Tell me, who do you
think can do so?’ Sambasura questioned her with arrogance.
‘Krishna’s son will be the one to kill you,’ said his grandmother with
sadness.
Sambasura knew then that his grandmother’s words could come true. So
he hatched a plan to kill Pradyumna.
Soon, he sent a few fierce demons to abduct the child and murder him.
But none of them were successful.
In the end, he decided to go himself. He journeyed to Dwarka and
entered Krishna’s palace disguised as a woman with the help of his mayavi
vidya.
Within minutes, he abducted Pradyumna even as he was sleeping next to
Rukmini, and flew off into the sky with the child. Up in the air, he realized
that he could simply drop the baby into the ocean and let him drown. So he
threw the child down with great force and returned to his kingdom.
Back at his palace, Sambasura said to his grandmother, ‘Your vision is
wrong this time. I have slayed Pradyumna and nobody can harm me now. I
am immortal.’
 The grandmother was sure of her vision. She replied tersely, ‘I don’t
think so, child. I have seen Pradyumna sparring with you, but it was only a
vision and I do not understand all that I saw.’
‘O Grandmother, you are rather old now and your eyesight is failing you.
Even your visions may not be what they appear to be,’ said Samba
arrogantly, dismissing her with a wave of his hand.
Meanwhile, the child who had fallen from the sky was swallowed by a
fish in the ocean. When the fish grew big, some fishermen caught it. It was
so big that the fishermen decided to take it to the king. ‘We are ordinary
people and can’t handle this,’ they said to each other. ‘This fish appears to
be extraordinary. We should give it to King Sambasura and perhaps he will
give us a reward for our find.’
When the fishermen presented the huge fish to the king, Sambasura was
happy and rewarded them with gold coins.
Queen Mayavati sent the fish to the royal chef. The chef and his wife,
Banavati, had been longing for a child of their own for many years.
Banavati was a secret devotee of Lord Vishnu. When she saw the gigantic
fish, she said to her husband, ‘Let’s cut the fish carefully. I think there is
something inside—perhaps gold or jewels. There is no other reason for a
fish to grow to this size or shape.’
 When the couple sliced the fish, they found a cherubic baby inside its
stomach. Banavati took it as a sign from the heavens—God had sent this
baby for her—and she immediately adopted him as her own.
After a few days, she carried the baby to Sambasura and asked for his
blessings, without revealing where she had found him. Clueless Sambasura
named the child Pradyumna.
‘Why have you named him so?’ somebody asked him in court.
‘With the slaying of baby Pradyumna, I have established my victory over
Krishna. I want to name this baby Pradyumna too as a reminder of my
victory.’
Banavati loved the baby like her own, and Pradyumna grew up in the
house of his enemy. Because of her knowledge of mayavi vidya, he grew up
faster than normal into a handsome young man—and looked uncannily like
Manmatha, the god of love, who had been killed as a result of Shiva’s
anger. His wife, Rati, had been inconsolable then. Vishnu had felt sorry for
her and said, ‘Don’t cry, Rati. Your husband will be born in Dvapara yuga
again as a human in the form of Pradyumna in Dwarka. You should also
take birth and another form so that you can marry him again.’
Thus, Rati was born as the daughter of Rukmi, who was Rukmini’s
brother. In this form, Rati was named Rukmavati.
In time, Pradyumna became increasingly aware of his identity and the
reason for his birth. He waged a fierce war against Sambasura, killed him
with his unique weapon Vaishnavastra and went back to Dwarka. He was
the constant companion of Krishna and was loved by all. He then married
Rukmavati, who later gave birth to their son, Aniruddha.
 The Groom in a Dream

Banasura, the son of King Bali, was a mighty asura who ruled over a large
kingdom. He was a great devotee of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati. At
the end of a long penance, Shiva appeared and asked Banasura what his
deepest desire was.
‘O Lord,’ said Banasura, ‘I want a thousand arms so that I can play the
mridangam when you dance the Tandava, and win all wars.’
Shiva smiled and nodded.
Banasura thought to himself, satisfied, ‘With my thousand arms and the
ability to win wars, no one can stand against me. I am invincible.’
Shiva handed Banasura a flagpole with a fire burning on top of it. ‘When
this is destroyed, it will signal the end of your rule,’ warned Shiva.
Banasura soon became uncontrollable and destroyed everything that
came in his way. He began using his thousand arms to shoot arrows, thus
ensuring that he became a formidable opponent to anyone who dared stand
against him. The devas became worried about the future.
Meanwhile, Banasura soon got bored of wining all battles with his
unlimited power, so he went back to Shiva and prayed to him. Arrogant
Banasura said, ‘O Lord! There is no fun in fighting lesser men. I don’t want
to fight Indra, who is bound to run to you, and there are no humans on earth
who can face me. Please grant me one battle with someone who is equal to
me.’
Shiva nodded.
Time passed, and Banasura gazed at the flagpole every day, waiting for a
change, but there was none to be seen.
 Banasura had a daughter, Usha, who was a devotee of Goddess Parvati.
She was such a beauty that the whole world spoke about her.
So Banasura decided to arrange a swayamvara for Usha and also prayed
to Parvati. ‘Please, Goddess, ensure that my daughter, Usha, gets a worthy
match.’
Before the swayamvara. Banasura made a doubleedged announcement.
‘Here is a set of weapons that must be used to cut down the flagpole.
Whoever does so will marry my daughter, Usha.’ Clever Banasura knew
that the cutting of the flagpole would earn him the battle he desired.
On the day of the swayamvara, Usha glanced at the suitors and prayed
earnestly to Parvati. ‘O Mother! I want a handsome man and a good
husband who will love me for who I am, and not just someone who will be
successful at cutting down the flagpole.’
The goddess granted Usha her sincere wish, and as destiny was to play
out, none of the suitors were able to complete the task. Banasura became so
frustrated at the outcome that he wanted to cut it down himself, almost
forgetting the consequences of that action.
That same night, Usha dreamt of a striking man who exuded an aura of
love and spoke to her. When she awoke the next morning, the dream was
broken, and she suddenly missed the enchanting presence. She became
confused—was it a dream or was it real? The following night, she saw him
again in her dream, and talked to him the entire night. She began seeing him
every night as the days passed. He was so charming that Usha couldn’t help
but lose her heart to this fascinating man.
One day, the young man said to her, ‘Today is a good day. Let us get
married.’
Head over heels in love, Usha agreed, and the two exchanged garlands
and completed the marriage ceremony.
The next day, Usha seemed absolutely lost in a dreamworld and unable to
take her mind off her husband. Her constant companion was a young
maiden named Chitralekha, who was also an artist. She noticed the change
in her friend and asked, ‘What is going on, Usha? You appear to be happy,
and yet, you seem lost in daydreams. Should I call the royal physician or
perhaps inform your mother?’
Usha couldn’t contain herself any longer. ‘A young man has been
appearing in my dreams in the recent past, and I have fallen in love with
him. He is the answer to my prayers, thanks to Goddess Parvati. Yesterday,
we got married quietly and without any fanfare.’
Chitralekha was not expecting this. How could Usha, a princess, get
married without the consent of her parents? But she decided not to jump to
any conclusions. ‘What is his name? Which dynasty does he belong to?
Who are his parents, Usha?’ she asked.
‘I really don’t know, Chitralekha. Whenever I see him, he charms me so
much that I forget to ask him any practical questions.’
Chitralekha was a smart young woman. She knew that she must find out
who this man was. So she showed many portraits to her friend, but none of
them appeared to match the young man in question. Finally, Chitralekha
suggested, ‘Describe his appearance and his features, Usha. I will start
sketching and you can correct me as I go along until the portrait resembles
him.’
Usha nodded and began describing her husband.
As she gave details about the young man, Chitralekha quickly adjusted
and modified her sketch until Usha told her to stop. ‘I think you can stop
sketching! This looks almost exactly like my husband.’
‘But who is he?’ Chitralekha wondered to herself. She also knew mayavi
vidya, which allowed her to travel fast and change her appearance at will.
Keeping the portrait of the handsome young man with herself, Chitralekha
changed her form and went in search of him.
A few days later, she came back and told Usha about her findings.
‘Forget this boy, Usha. He is the grandson of your father’s sworn enemy,
Krishna. The young man’s name is Aniruddha, his father’s name is
Pradyumna and your husband is the grandson of Krishna and Rukmini.
Aniruddha is uniquely stunning, and he resembles his grandfather. But your
father will never give your hand in marriage to him. It is better for your
own sake that you let him go.’
 ‘But he is the one chosen for me,’ Usha said longingly. ‘I can’t let him
go, Chitralekha. Our union is blessed by the goddess herself.’
Unfortunately for the two young maidens, Banasura overheard the
conversation as he approached his daughter’s chambers. He walked in and
came upon Aniruddha’s portrait lying in plain sight. He became livid. ‘How
can you decide to marry Krishna’s grandson, Usha? How dare you!’
Saying thus, he grabbed the portrait and threw it out of the open window.
His anger was so unrestrained that the speed with which he threw the
picture brought down the upright flag post.
Banasura calmed down, realizing that his destiny would be decided in the
impending war. He was happy. This is what he had wanted all along—a
chance to prove his supremacy.
He quickly arranged for a tight vigilance of his daughter’s chambers and
left to prepare for the war.
Usha felt terrible. She realized that her father would rather fight
Aniruddha than be happy for her. She knew that her father could not be
defeated by anyone because of his thousand arms.
Unable to see the suffering of her friend, Chitralekha hatched a plan.
Using mayavi vidya, she travelled to Dwarka, carried away the clueless and
sleeping Aniruddha and transported him to Usha’s chambers.
Usha was ecstatic to see the young man who had appeared in her dreams.
He looked exactly as she had seen him.
When Aniruddha finally awoke, he was confused. Where was he? When
the girls told him the story of Usha’s visions and her father’s fury, he was
visibly frustrated, yet enchanted by Usha’s beauty. ‘I am captivated by you,
Usha. But I would never voluntarily go to a maiden’s chamber in the middle
of the night. It does not suit my reputation, nor would I jeopardize a
maiden’s character in this manner. I would rather be a man, fight for you in
a war and then marry you.’
‘But you are Krishna’s grandson, and my father will never agree to this
match,’ Usha countered, her eyes bright with love. ‘If my father knows that
you are here, he will throw you out immediately. The best way to be
together is to get married right now and later reconcile with our respective
families. Sometimes, it is better to ask for forgiveness than permission, my
dear Aniruddha.’
After much convincing, Aniruddha finally agreed, and Chitralekha
wondered about the arrangements for a quick and simple ceremony.
 A few minutes later, Banasura came to his daughter’s room. He was a
doting father, and despite the fact that he was busy preparing for a war, he
thought that he should check on Usha and suggest strongly that she forget
this young man whom she claimed to have married without her father’s
permission. It was only a dream, after all, and it meant nothing.
His sudden entrance surprised Usha, Chitralekha and Aniruddha.
Banasura was immediately enraged to see the man from the portrait who
had already supposedly married his daughter without his permission. His
anger grew by leaps and bounds. When he saw Chitralekha, he realized that
she was responsible for bringing Aniruddha here. He screamed at her, ‘You
were supposed to look after the best interests of Usha. Instead, what have
you done?’
Out of control, he yelled out to his guards to capture the three of them
and threw them in jail. Without further delay, he declared war against
Aniruddha and his family. Within a short period of time, Krishna heard the
news of his grandson’s imprisonment and came marching to Banasura’s
kingdom with Pradyumna and the Yadava troops.
The war was brutal. The Yadava army was soon shot down by the arrows
from Banasura’s thousand arms. Finally, Krishna decided to face Banasura
himself. The lord cut away all his hands and Banasura fell down to the
ground desperately praying to the almighty Shiva and Goddess Parvati to
come to his assistance.
Lord Shiva appeared and said, ‘Any day, any time, anywhere—a war is
unnecessary, Banasura. You have fought this war only for the sake of your
ego and to display your might. Many innocent people have died because of
you. Parvati has arranged the marriage of your daughter. You had requested
a boy who is worthy of her, and Aniruddha happened to be the perfect
match. But most of all, you have misused the power I blessed you with.
And yet, you are lucky to die at the hands of Krishna, the avatar of Vishnu.’
Saying thus, Shiva disappeared.
Intelligent Banasura looked at Krishna.
Krishna smiled. ‘Dear child, you haven’t understood who I am.
Arrogance has destroyed the devotion inside you, and that’s why I stand
here today. Open your eyes and see the truth. Your family has been
extremely lucky because I have visited your ancestors for the fourth time.
The first time, I took the avatar of Varaha to fight against your ancestor
Hiranyaksha and save the world. The second time, I came as Narasimha
because of the devotion of your greatgrandfather Prahlada. The third time, I
came in the form of Vamana to teach a lesson to your father, Bali, who was
my devotee. This time, I have come in the form of Krishna to cut away your
thousand arms, which haven’t been used for a worthy cause. Out of my ten
avatars, I have come four times to your door.’
Banasura looked at the form standing in front of him and then bowed his
head in surrender to the lord, just as his soul departed from his body.
Soon, Aniruddha, Usha and Chitralekha were freed from prison. Later,
they came to Dwarka, and the wedding was celebrated with much pomp and
show.
Today, the locals in Uttarakhand identify a place called Sui as where the
bitter war between Banasura and Krishna is said to have taken place. Huge
quantities of blood spilled everywhere and collected in the form of a pond,
which is now known as the Lohawati, and the water continues to sport a
tinge of red.
 Krishna’s Consorts

Lord Krishna had eight principal queen consorts.

Rukmini, the daughter of King Bhishmika, was the princess of Vidarbha
who fell in love with Krishna. She had three brothers who arranged for her
to marry Shishupala, Krishna’s cousin. So Rukmini secretly wrote a letter to
Krishna and asked him to save her from the arranged marriage to
Shishupala. On the day of the wedding, Krishna rescued her and took her to
Dwarka, where the two were immediately wed. She was his first wife and
the chief queen, and is often considered to be an avatar of Lakshmi, the
consort of Lord Vishnu.
Jambuvati (also known as Rohini), the daughter of Jambuvanta, was the
second queen. Her father gave her hand in marriage to Krishna along with
the diamond Shamantakamani when the lord came looking for the diamond.
Jambuvati’s son, Samba, would later become responsible for the destruction
of the Yaduvamsha clan.
Satyabhama was Krishna’s third wife and the daughter of Satrajitha, a
wealthy merchant in Dwarka. Again, it was Satyabhama who fell in love
with Krishna and wanted to marry him. Since she was from a rich family,
she often looked down upon the other queens. There are many stories of
Rukmini and Satyabhama, and Krishna ensured that Satyabhama learnt
lessons from Rukmini’s devotion and love for Krishna.
The fourth wife was Kalindhi, the sister of River Yamuna, who
performed a penance in her desire to marry Krishna. One day, Krishna and
Arjuna went hunting inside a forest; it was here that they saw Kalindhi. In
the end, she married Krishna because of Arjuna’s mediation.
 Mitravinda, the daughter of Jayasena, was Krishna’s fifth wife, and had
twin brothers named Vindha and Anuvindha. She always loved Krishna and
wanted to marry him. Her brothers opposed her love and did not invite
Krishna to her swayamvara. However, she managed to inform Krishna
about the swayamvara, and he came and took her away from the venue.
Mitravinda’s brothers fought him, but Krishna defeated them all and
married her, and also came to be known as Mitravinda Govinda. Later,
Vindha and Anuvindha joined hands with the Kauravas during the war of
Mahabharata.
Nagnajitaa, or Satya, was the daughter of Nagnajita, the king of Kosala.
The king’s condition was that the only man who would marry his daughter
must be able to defeat his seven vicious bulls. When Krishna appeared
ready to take on the challenge, the king was overjoyed to see him and
secretly hoped he would be able to defeat the bulls. Krishna grew up in
Gokul with cows and bulls, and he easily defeated the bulls and married
Nagnajitaa. Other princes, who had earlier been unsuccessful in their
attempts to defeat the bulls, challenged Krishna, but they were no match to
the lord and had to bow down to him at the end.
Neela, the princess of the Kaikeya kingdom, married Krishna in a
swayamvara.
Shaibya, the niece of Srugala Vasudeva, fell in love with Krishna, helped
him fight her uncle and married him.
 Three and a Half Diamonds

Balarama was a great champion of gadayuddha, or the art of fighting with a

mace. He shared his knowledge with Bhima and Duryodhana and taught
them everything he knew. Both the young men were good students.
One day, Balarama’s wife, Revati, said to her husband, ‘I want to see
your mace skills in a duel.’
Balarama said, ‘Of course! You can see them any day, Revati, but I must
tell you that I will never get good opponents to stand against me because of
my ability to defeat anyone in such a duel. Let’s wait for a suitable
opportunity where I can truly show you my skills against a worthy man.’
Rukmini and Satyabhama casually mentioned to Krishna, ‘We are really
bored, and we want to witness an unusual story. We are tired of Sage
Narada’s stories when he visits us.’
In due time, the Pandavas became powerful and ruled from the city of
Indraprastha. Bhima, one of the Pandava brothers, became certain that no
one could match him in gadayuddha.
Meanwhile, Duryodhana regularly kept in touch with his skills at
Hastinapur. He felt certain that he was strong enough to defeat Bhima. In
his heart, he desired to fight his cousins and capture their kingdom.
Duryodhana’s uncle Vidura advised his nephew, ‘Don’t think of going
down the path of war, dear child. I suggest you go and visit Krishna, touch
his feet and ask him for blessings that will allow you and your cousins, the
Pandavas, to live in peace and with happiness. Don’t waste your thoughts or
energy on trying to defeat Bhima in a gadayuddha sometime in the future.’
 Duryodhana shook his head. ‘I am not going to seek Krishna’s blessings
nor am I going to respect him by touching his feet or any part of his leg. I
am a king, and it is below my royal status to touch the feet of a cowherd. If
a war is meant to be, let it happen, Uncle. I will ensure that we are prepared
for it. I am sure to win.’
Narada, the travelling sage, overheard this as he was passing by, and
smiled mysteriously.
King Vardhana was a handsome prince and a great devotee of Narada. He
had lost both his kingdom and his eyes in a war. His condition became like
that of a beggar, and he lived in a forest.
After losing his kingdom, he prayed to Narada and asked for help.
Narada came to him and promised, ‘Don’t worry. There is light at the end
of this. Your good days will return in time.’
King Vardhana trusted Narada’s words and followed his routine.
Meanwhile, there lived a beautiful girl named Satyavati in the same
kingdom, who was devoted to Krishna and an ardent worshipper of Lord
Vishnu.
One day, Narada went to Satyavati’s house.
Satyavati was as hospitable as she could be with her limited means, and
very kind and devoted. When Narada saw her devotion, he said, ‘The lord
has chosen a groom for you. When you open your door in the morning
tomorrow, the man you see will be your future husband. You will live with
him very happily.’
The maiden stood, perplexed, even as she knew that she must heed the
lord’s words.
Later that night, there was a heavy storm. The blind and poor king came
to the maiden’s hut in search of shelter and slept quietly in the veranda
outside the front door. As the next morning dawned, the storm subsided and
sunshine filled the air. The maiden awoke and opened the front door,
excited to see her future husband.
But alas! She could only see the blind man sleeping outside her door. He
appeared to be nothing but a beggar. Still, she woke him up and brought
him inside her home.
She recounted the incident with Narada and said, ‘I am going to marry
you anyway. It is the lord’s wish, and I am sure that there is a greater plan in
place.’
 Unfortunately, Satyavati’s father did not agree to the match. His daughter
was beautiful, and he would not allow her to marry a man who was not only
blind but also a beggar.
‘My fate is sealed if you do not marry me,’ said Vardhana with sadness.
‘Satyavati, I have lost a kingdom and my eyes. Narada told me that good
days would return, and I know somehow that this turn of events is also a
turning point for a change in my fortune. But perhaps it is not my fate to
marry you at all, and I can’t say that I blame your father for his views!’
But Satyavati was firm in her decision to marry the beggar, and a simple
ceremony finally took place.
After the wedding, the couple stayed in a small hut. Satyavati worked
hard to put food on the table, and nothing really changed for both of them.
One day, when the young bride was working in the garden, something
fell on her head. To her surprise, she found that it was an exquisite diamond
necklace. Immediately, she looked up and saw two birds flying away in the
distance, and realized that one of them must have dropped it. She admired
the necklace and wondered who the owner was.
The same day, she heard a royal announcement as she went about her
daily routine. ‘Queen Kamala has lost a precious diamond necklace. A great
reward awaits the person who finds it.’
Satyavati understood that the beautiful necklace belonged to the queen.
So she went to the palace, met the queen and told her how the necklace had
reached her.
The queen was very happy and thankful. She said, ‘Now I understand. I
went to swim by the pond and gave the jewellery to my maid. My maid was
eating, and the birds must have come to pick up some food and mistaken
the shining necklace for something edible. I am grateful that you have
returned this to me. Please tell me what you desire.’
‘I have a small wish, my queen.’
 ‘You name it and it shall be fulfilled. Please tell me,’ replied the queen.
Satyavati said, ‘I hope you will not be upset. Please promise me.’
‘I promise.’
‘I earnestly request that nobody in the kingdom light any lamp on the
second Friday of the month of Shraavana, including you. That is all I
desire.’
The queen was surprised and thought that it was a very strange request.
But she had promised to fulfil it. So she said, ‘It is not a great ask, and it
will be done.’
The young woman returned home, happy and content.
When the second Friday of the month of Shraavana arrived, the entire
city was shrouded in darkness. The woman cleaned her home, lit lamps all
over her hut, kept some food outside her doorway and shut the main door.
After a few hours, somebody knocked at her door. A lady’s pleasant
voice came through. ‘Will you please open your home to me? I want to visit
you.’
‘Of course I will, but on one condition. Once you enter, you may not
leave,’ replied Satyavati.
‘There is total darkness everywhere now, and you have left me with no
option. Yes, I promise to come and stay with you forever.’
With an honest smile and gratification in her heart, Satyavati opened the
door and the lady entered. She looked around and saw that the hut was
clean. Satisfied, the lady sat down, and Satyavati shut the door.
A short while later, there was another knock on the door, and the same
incident repeated itself until the second lady also entered and took a seat.
This process repeated six times until there were eight ladies sitting inside
the hut.
‘You are a very intelligent woman,’ said one of the eight ladies. ‘If a
house is well lit and clean on the eve of the second Friday of the month of
Shraavana, Goddess Lakshmi is sure to visit your home. But if your house
is unkempt and dark, she will retreat. Together, we are eight different
Lakshmis—Adi Lakshmi, Dhana Lakshmi, Santana Lakshmi, Veera
Lakshmi, Vidya Lakshmi, Gaja Lakshmi, Dhanya Lakshmi and Vijaya
Lakshmi. Together, we are known as Ashta Lakshmis, and we will now stay
with you.’
Within a few days and almost as if the couple’s fortune had changed,
Vardhana’s eyesight was restored. Able and well, he built an army and took
back his kingdom in time.
After the victory, the king was ecstatic. He knew that his fate had
changed because of his wife’s wisdom, and his love grew by leaps and
bounds. He couldn’t stand to be away from her. The new queen repeatedly
told her husband to attend to his duties, but he did not listen to her. So she
prayed to Narada for assistance.
Finally, the sage came to visit the king and the queen one day and
realized that something had to be done.
He said to Vardhana, ‘Your wife should bring me my dinner today, and
she must wait outside my chambers until dawn.’
The king was uncomfortable with the idea of being separated from his
wife for so many hours. So he asked politely, ‘May I send anyone else
instead?’
‘Satyavati is a wonderful woman, and just like my daughter. Let her do
her duty and treat me as a father.’
The queen nodded happily, and the king had no choice but to agree to the
sage’s request.
That night, Satyavati took dinner to the sage and waited outside for his
orders.
Narada, however, did not eat dinner. He closed his eyes and became
immersed in meditation. Satyavati stood at his doorstep the entire night. At
sunrise, she assumed that her duty was done and returned to her chambers.
A short while later, Narada opened his eyes and called out for the queen.
Realizing that she had already left, he became upset. He immediately left to
meet the king and the queen.
Narada met the couple and said, ‘O King, your wife has disobeyed me.’
‘Dear sir, you asked me to wait until dawn, and I waited outside for you
until sunrise. My intention was never to disobey or inconvenience you,’
said Satyavati gently.
‘But you never even cared to take my permission before departing,’
continued Narada. ‘For your blatant disregard for a sage, I curse you. May
you turn into a horse.’
Instantly, Satyavati was transformed into a thoroughbred horse.
Vardhana was speechless. The sudden transformation was too much for
him to bear, and he began sobbing at the state of his beloved.
Narada calmed down and consoled him. ‘There is a bigger purpose to
this, my king. In time, you will understand the reasons. For now, fulfil your
duty towards your subjects and rule your kingdom fairly.’
‘O Sage, when will she become herself again?’
‘When three and a half diamonds touch her body, she will return to her
original form.’
‘That is indeed good news. I shall bring as many diamonds as we need
from the treasury, but I want my wife back.’
‘But they aren’t regular diamonds, dear king. These are special, and they
will come to you when the time is right,’ said Narada and left.
It was the worst day the king had ever had, and his sadness was
unbearable. He went to sleep that night with heaviness in his heart and tears
in his eyes.
When he awoke the next morning, the horse had vanished without a
trace. Immediately, he left with his troops to search for it.
Meanwhile, in the neighbouring kingdom, Balarama was strolling in his
gardens when he saw a beautiful horse chewing grass in the distance.
Desirous of riding the horse, he turned around and asked for some of his
riding gear, but by the time he looked back at the horse, it was nowhere to
be seen. So he decided to go find it.
As he was getting appropriately dressed for the search, his wife, Revati,
became curious at his impatience and asked, ‘Where are you going?’
‘I have just seen the most beautiful horse in the world. Come with me
and let’s find it. Then we can both ride it together.’
Revati agreed, and together, they traced the horse to Bhima’s palace,
where Bhima stood nearby speaking to a man they had never seen before.
The man was saying, ‘This horse is of the utmost importance to me.
Please give him to me, sir.’
Bhima said, ‘I promise you that this horse is yours. Please don’t worry.’
Just then, Bhima saw Balarama and Revati approaching him.
As the couple got closer, Revati said, ‘I now understand what you mean.
The horse is indeed one of a kind. Let’s keep him with us in the royal
stables.’
Balarama agreed.
As they reached Bhima and the man, Balarama said, ‘Bhima, I would like
this horse for myself, please.’
‘But this horse belongs to this man.’
Balarama glanced at the man. ‘I will get you another speedy horse. That
is not a problem at all.’
 The man was quiet and looked pleadingly at Bhima.
Bhima intervened. ‘Sir, I have promised the horse to this young man
here. Thanks to the Rajasuya yagna and the preparations we had made for it
earlier, I have plenty of other horses in the royal stable, and I will be happy
to give you any of those that your heart desires.’
‘How dare you!’ Balarama’s temper flared up. ‘Had my brother Krishna
not been by your side, the Rajasuya yagna would have never happened. Be
grateful to my brother. I want to ride this specific horse, and I will take it.’
Bhima wasn’t one to keep quiet. ‘I respect you as my guru and have even
provided you with an alternative. I agree that Krishna was the greatest
strategist we could ever expect to have, but our family has also worked
extremely hard to be where we are at today. I was the one to slay your
enemy Jarasandha, not Krishna. I have given my word to this young man,
and if you really intend to take the horse away, then I must challenge you to
a duel of maces.’
The two men agreed to a duel and the fight began. It was an unusual one
—between a teacher and a student, as well as between two cousins.
Revati stood on the side with her heart in her mouth. Sometimes, it
seemed as if her husband was on the winning side, and other times, it
seemed it would be Bhima. The fight went on for hours and hours until both
Balarama and Bhima were exhausted.
Suddenly, they noticed that the horse was missing.
A short search later, it was found in Krishna’s palace. His wives Rukmini
and Satyabhama fancied the wonderful creature for themselves. ‘Can we
keep him?’ they inquired of their husband.
‘We must first find out whether he belongs to someone else. If he is not
ours, we cannot keep him,’ said Krishna and glanced at the horse with
affection. He noticed the tears in the horse’s eyes.
The horse neighed and trotted away.
‘Let’s see where he goes,’ said Rukmini. So Krishna and the two wives
followed the horse, who led them to Duryodhana’s palace.
It was no surprise that Duryodhana fancied the horse for himself. ‘The
king of Hastinapur deserves a horse, such as this one,’ he said out loud.
The horse changed direction and wandered away, and the group followed
him again.
‘Many people want this horse in their stables. Duryodhana, you mustn’t
keep anything that doesn’t really belong to you. It will be the cause of a big
war,’ said Krishna while gazing into the distance, almost as if he could see
into the future.
The horse returned to the location of the duel between Balarama and
Bhima. When Balarama saw Duryodhana approaching in the distance, he
was glad. ‘My other student is here now, and he will fight on my behalf. I
am sure that I will win in the end and get the horse,’ he said.
Soon, the group reached Balarama and Bhima.
‘Come, Duryodhana, fight in my stead,’ said Balarama.
But Duryodhana was not listening. He ran close to the horse and caught
hold of one of its legs, so that the horse could not move.
Balarama dropped his mace at the audacity of his student and caught hold
of another leg of the horse. Bhima assumed that Balarama or Duryodhana
intended to make away with the horse, and he also sprinted towards it and
caught hold of its third limb.
The poor horse stood there, stunned.
Krishna came and patted the horse gently. Almost as if by magic, the
horse transformed and returned into the original form—that of Queen
Satyavati.
Rukmini and Satyabhama giggled at the sight of Duryodhana, Bhima and
Balarama still holding this beautiful woman.
‘That was a splendid drama, indeed,’ Krishna said to Narada.
‘It was all with your help, my lord,’ replied the sage.
Krishna explained further. ‘Revati wanted to see her husband fight, and
Balarama was desperate for an equal opponent. On any normal day,
Balarama and Bhima would not have fought like they did over the horse.
The circumstances had to be created like today. So, Revati’s desire is now
fulfilled. Duryodhana told his uncle that he would not touch a cowherd’s
feet or hold his leg, but today he was doing what he would perceive to be
much worse—holding the leg of an animal. Bhima had also become
arrogant after the success of the Rajasuya yagna, and was proud that he was
the one to slay Jarasandha. In his self-importance, he agreed to fight his
teacher and forgot about the big role destiny plays in our lives.’
He turned to his wives and said, ‘You wanted to see a drama with a
happy ending. This is the best I could arrange. The desire to own creates
wars between cousins, teachers and students, family and friends. On the
other hand, see how King Vardhana forgot about everything and focused
only on his wife. He also had to be taught a lesson—that the responsibility
of a king towards his subjects is of supreme importance and must not be
compromised.’
Everybody bent their head in shame. Rukmini said, ‘O Krishna! Narada
had said to Vardhana that only when three and a half diamonds touched
Satyavati would she become human again. But I don’t understand. Tell me,
where were the diamonds?’
Krishna smiled. ‘That is so simple, my dear wife. Balarama’s strength is
as much as that of one diamond, Bhima’s is another, and Duryodhana’s
upper body is half the strength of a diamond too.’
‘But that is two and a half, dear Krishna,’ said Satyabhama. ‘Aren’t you
forgetting yourself ?’
Before Krishna could respond, Narada interrupted, ‘He is the real
diamond. The lord was able to kill Kamsa and Chanura at the age of sixteen
without any preparation.’
There was a peaceful silence as everybody got lost in their own thoughts.
Satyavati finally returned to her husband and her kingdom, and the king
was ecstatic to be reunited with his beloved wife.
This is how the three and a half diamonds changed the life of Vardhana
and Satyavati.
 The Demon Who Spat

There once lived a powerful demon named Gaya.

One day, Gaya was riding his chariot in the skies. Suddenly, he felt an
excess of saliva in his mouth and, impulsively, he spat it out.
Unintentionally, the spit fell right into the holy water that Lord Krishna was
holding in his palms while performing a salutation to the sun god.
Krishna looked around to see how the spit had fallen into his palms, as
Gaya realized his folly and immediately hid from Krishna’s line of vision.
Krishna was upset and made a loud vow. ‘I will kill whoever has dirtied the
holy water in my palms.’
Gaya, who heard the vow loud and clear, became frightened. He prayed
to the devas, but nobody came to his aid. Then he went to Arjuna. He knew
that Arjuna would also not protect him if he knew the whole story, so Gaya
hid half the truth and said, ‘Someone has decided to kill me, sir. I am
begging you for protection. You are a king and the protector of whoever
approaches you. Please, I will die without your help.’
 Arjuna took pity on Gaya and forgot to ask him for more details. What a
state for a powerful asura to be in! In a hurry, he assured Gaya, ‘Please
don’t worry. I will protect you, no matter what.’
‘Sir, please promise me that in the name of Krishna. Only then will I
believe your words.’
‘Of course. I always keep my word. But for your satisfaction, I take a
true oath in the name of Krishna, and I promise you that nobody will lay a
finger on you.’
Gaya breathed a deep sigh of relief.
‘Now tell me, who wants to slay you?’ asked Arjuna.
‘It is Krishna himself,’ came the timid reply.
Arjuna became livid. ‘Why didn’t you tell me that before, Gaya? I don’t
want to fight Krishna. He is my dearest friend and my protector. Alas! How
can I fight him?’ Arjuna regretted the promise he had given Gaya.
Arjuna’s family heard the news, and his brothers, mother, Kunti, and
wives Draupadi and Subhadra began discussing the way forward.
Dharmaraja said, ‘It is the duty of a king to fulfil his words.’
‘But at what cost?’ questioned Subhadra.
‘You should punish Gaya and kill him,’ advised Bhima. ‘He has hidden
information from you.’
But there was no solution in sight and the family was worried.
Draupadi prayed, ‘Krishna will help find a solution for us.’
Just then, the wandering sage Narada came to the scene. He patiently
heard their problem and said, ‘I think the best way to handle this is to
mediate through Subhadra, who is also Krishna’s sister.’
That sounded like a good idea to everyone. Who better to mediate than
Subhadra? Subhadra immediately set out to meet her brother in Dwarka.
Narada, however, also departed and quickly made his way to Dwarka too.
Before Subhadra could reach and meet her brother, Narada met Krishna. He
said to him, ‘Your brother-in-law Arjuna has promised his protection to
Gaya, the same demon who spit in your palms. Subhadra is on her way here
to speak to you in an effort to reach some sort of compromise. Please do as
you think best.’
When Subhadra finally met her brother and apprised him of the situation,
Krishna was firm and refused to compromise. His wives Rukmini and
Satyabhama supported his decision. In the end, Krishna said, ‘Subhadra,
you must choose to support one of us—either your husband or your brother.
You cannot have it both ways.’
‘Brother, you put me in a very difficult position. I do not want to choose
sides, but if I must, I choose to stand by my husband in this matter.’
The writing on the wall was clear. The danger of an impending war was
all too real.
Soon, Krishna and Arjuna faced each other in the battlefield. Two men
who were dear relatives and even better friends found themselves on
opposite sides as enemies—all for the sake of the asura Gaya. It was then
that the devas intervened and brought the war to a halt. Gaya apologized to
Krishna profusely and became his ardent devotee.
Later, Gaya prayed to the lord in his form as Vishnu and became very
powerful in time. As is the case with asuras, he also became arrogant. He
abused the devas and the common folk, until the devas finally approached
Vishnu to seek his help.
Vishnu heard their pleas and smiled. ‘I will take care of everything,’ he
said and sent them on their way.
One day, Brahma came to meet Gaya and said, ‘You are such a healthy,
tall and well-built man. Nobody has a body quite like yours. I intend to
perform a great yagna, and for such a task, one must choose an appropriate
place. I strongly feel that the best place for my yagna is on your chest.’
Gaya stood in silence. He couldn’t believe his good luck—Lord Brahma
himself was approaching him for permission! What an honour! Gaya
immediately agreed.
Brahma and his team began construction of the yagnakund, the vessel in
which the yagna would take place, on Gaya’s stationary chest. With the
passage of time, Gaya became restless and wanted to move his body. He
prayed to Vishnu for help. ‘I have given my word to Brahma that I will
cooperate for his yagna. Please help me so that I do not move or spoil the
preparations in progress.’
Vishnu, the eternal protector, stood firmly on Gaya’s chest to hold him
down in such a way so as to disallow movement.
Then Gaya requested Vishnu for another favour. ‘O Lord, I think I realize
now that I will not survive this yagna. I will be burnt to ashes. I beseech
you to make this area a place of pilgrimage. The place where I lay my head
should be the focus of the pilgrimage and named after me. Whoever
performs the shraadha here will go to heaven after their death.’
 ‘Of course, my child. Your wish will be fulfilled,’ said Vishnu.
Today, this place is known as Gaya, Vishnu Gaya or Pitrugaya and is
located in the state of Bihar. The river Phalgu flows here. The place where
Gaya laid his head is known as Gaya Shirsha, and Vishnu’s footprints can
be seen there. People pay homage to their ancestors here. Gaya, thus, has
been immortalized, and the proof of his devotion to Vishnu continues to
attract people from all over the country.
 The Sage Who Wanted Water

Once upon a time, there lived a reclusive sage named Udanka.

After the Mahabharata war, Krishna was on his return to Dwarka when
he ran into the sage.
Sage Udanka was happy to see Krishna. Since the sage was reclusive and
unaware of current events, Udanka asked, ‘Lord, what is the latest news?
How is everyone?’
‘Things are okay, but the great war of Mahabharata has just ended,’ said
Krishna and explained in detail.
Udanka was curious. ‘How many people took part in the war?’
‘On the Pandavas’ side, there were seven akshauhinis (a unit indicating
the size of a battle formation) and on the Kauravas’ side there were eleven.
There were eighteen akshauhinis in all, and the war lasted for eighteen
days.’
‘How many survived?’ questioned the sage.
‘Only twelve men. This includes the five Pandavas, Ashwatthama,
Kripacharya, Vrishaketu and Yuyutsu from the Kauravas, and, from my
side, Satyaki, Kritavarma and me.’
‘Only these twelve survived out of eighteen akshauhinis?’ asked the
surprised sage.
‘It was a tough war,’ said Krishna.
Suddenly, the sage became upset. ‘Krishna, you are the supreme being.
You knew about the destruction ahead of time. Had you really wanted to,
you could have stopped the war. You didn’t do your duty, and I am inclined
to curse you.’
 ‘Wait a minute, dear sage. Let me explain. When Draupadi came to me
and said that she wanted a war because the Kauravas had insulted her, I had
said, “Sister, the reason for a war must never be because of an insult to an
individual. One must rise above such pettiness for the greater good.” I even
reached out to Duryodhana and tried to talk to him about the importance of
peace. I requested him to let go of only five villages and give them to the
Pandavas. Still, he did not agree. Instead, he wanted to imprison me! Later,
I requested his father, Dhritarashtra, and the great Bhishma to perform their
duty of being advisers and provide guidance to him. But even that failed.’
Krishna paused, took a deep breath and continued, ‘I also spoke to Karna
and tried to convince him to join the Pandavas to avoid the war, but he did
not agree and decided to fight by the side of his friend Duryodhana. The
truth is, dear sage, I exhausted all the options that lay in front of me. War
was all that was left. Once the war began, I publicly announced and made it
clear that people had the option to change sides or withdraw from the fight,
but very few people took me up on that offer. That’s the moment I realized
that almost all the parties desired a war for different reasons, and that’s the
reason it was meant to be. Destiny was more powerful than all my efforts.’
Udanka sighed. He knew that Krishna was right. ‘Forgive me, Krishna, I
judged your actions unfairly.’
Krishna smiled.
‘Lord, may I ask something of you?’ asked the sage.
‘What do you desire?’
‘My journey of life is such that I must wander everywhere. Sometimes
through smooth and sometimes through rough terrain. Sometimes I yearn
even for water. Please grant me such a blessing that will allow me to at least
get water whenever I want.’
Krishna nodded, blessed the sage and went on his way to Dwarka.
A few days later, Sage Udanka found himself drifting through a forest.
Suddenly, he grew thirsty and remembered Krishna’s words.
A few minutes later, a hunter approached the sage. He greeted the sage
and offered him some water in a flask made of deerskin.
‘He is a dirty, uneducated hunter,’ thought Udanka. ‘How can I take
water from him?’ So Udanka shook his head.
‘Please, dear sage, take some,’ insisted the hunter.
‘No,’ responded Udanka again.
‘Sir, I will be truly blessed if you take some water from me.’
 Udanka flatly refused and walked a little distance away from the hunter.
When he looked back, he couldn’t see any sign of the man.
Just as he was wondering about where the hunter had gone, Krishna
appeared.
 ‘Lord Krishna! It is nice to see you. You have wonderful timing. You had
promised that I would get water whenever I wished, but alas! It isn’t so!’
‘O my dear Udanka,’ replied Krishna, ‘I met Lord Indra and told him to
give you nectar. Indra told me that humans cannot get nectar when they are
alive, but I insisted that enlightened people such as you must be an
exception. It was he who came in the form of a hunter to offer you some
nectar so that you could become immortal. He offered it to you three times,
but you have proven me wrong. You judged him for his appearance,
community and profession. You did not consider him as being equal to you,
though he offered you a hand in your time of need. I respected you as
somebody who was enlightened, but the bare truth is that you are as
ordinary as the common man.’
With these words, Krishna disappeared.
 The End of Krishna

After the Mahabharata war, Gandhari learnt that her son Duryodhana had
been killed in the fight of maces between him and Bhima, and she was
overwhelmed with sadness.
Earlier, Gandhari had given a boon to Duryodhana to have a strong body
that could withstand the hardest of hits, but his thighs were his Achilles’
heel because of Krishna’s clever strategy that restricted this part of
Duryodhana’s body from absorbing the full force of Gandhari’s boon.
So when Gandhari found out that it was Krishna who had directed Bhima
to hit Duryodhana on the thighs, she went to him and cursed him with all
her power. ‘O Krishna, you could have stopped the war even before it
began! Instead, you encouraged it, and all my children and grandchildren
are now dead. Just like my clan is reaching its end, your clan too will wipe
out right in front of you. May you suffer the way I have.’
Krishna, however, smiled gently. ‘Gandhari, you really don’t need to
curse my clan. When money, arrogance and liquor are in excess in any
community, that heralds the end of the tribe. The Yadavas do not require an
external enemy. Their own vices will destroy them. The truth is, Gandhari, I
made several attempts to dissuade the war, but your son wanted one with all
his heart. You mustn’t blame me. I told your husband to be a wise king and
father, but he was unable to do what needed to be done. Your son was
headstrong and is responsible for the destruction of his own family.’
Days later, Yudhishthira was crowned the king of the land, and Krishna
returned to Dwarka.
Time passed.
 One day, the short-tempered sage Durvasa decided to visit Dwarka. He
stopped for the night in the outskirts of the city.
Krishna’s son Samba was married to Lakshmanaa, who was
Duryodhana’s daughter. When Samba heard that Durvasa was in the capital,
he decided to play a prank on the sage with a few of his drunken friends,
who were in the mood for fun. Samba disguised himself as a pregnant
woman by placing a piece of wood on his stomach and wrapping a sari
around himself. Along with a few others, Samba went to meet Durvasa.
There, his friends said to Durvasa, ‘Sir, you are aware of all the happenings
in the three realms. Will you tell our friend, this dear pregnant young
woman here, if she will have a girl or a boy?’
Durvasa closed his eyes and through his power, he learnt what was going
on. He realized that these young boys were trying to trick him. His temper
flared and he responded to the young men, ‘This boy will deliver neither a
boy nor a girl. He will deliver a piece of wood that will kill the dynasty of
the Yadavas.’
The words shocked the young men, and they became deathly afraid.
Without much thought, they immediately took the piece of wood from
Samba, powdered it and threw the powder deep into the ocean. That wood
could never hurt anyone again! Together, they decided that they wouldn’t
inform anyone of this incident.
Within a few days, the powder thrown into the ocean reached the
seashore and began growing as weeds.
One full moon night, the entire fraternity of the Yadavas decided to meet
on the seashore to have some fun. Krishna was not at the celebration. The
Yadavas began drinking and making fun of each other. Soon, it turned into a
fight, and a few of the men searched for some form of weapon. They came
across the weeds growing on the seashore, pulled on them and began hitting
each other with them. The weeds were of unusual strength—they had the
toughness of an iron bar. Quickly, people began getting seriously injured
and fatally wounded.
When Krishna was informed of the grave situation on the seashore, he
rushed to the scene of the crime with his brother, Balarama. But by then, it
was too late. Everyone except Uddhava was dead. Krishna’s children and
grandchildren lay dead and bloody in front of him. Krishna realized that
Gandhari’s curse was reaching its fruition and that his time on earth was
reaching an end. He instructed Uddhava to protect the remaining Yadavas
until Arjuna arrived.
Balarama, who stood by his brother’s side, said to him, ‘I may have been
your sibling in this lifetime, but I have always been your companion. I am
Adishesha, the serpent king. Please allow me to leave this world before you
do.’
‘You may go, Balarama. I will finish my work here and leave this
worldly form.’
Balarama waded into the sea and vanished from sight.
Krishna then called his charioteer Dharuka and said, ‘Please set forth to
Hastinapur and apprise Arjuna that I am going to end my avatar. He must
come and take the women and the old back with him.’
With tears in his eyes, Uddhava approached him and said, ‘My dear
Krishna! I will perform my duty with a heavy heart. It is hard for me to face
your old parents. I really do not know what life is. When an avatar of
dharma can suffer like this, what is the essence of life?’
Krishna smiled, and even in that moment, he patiently taught Uddhava
processes and lessons of life—the importance of detachment, love,
recognition of self, transience of life and true knowledge. These are known
as the Uddhava Gita today.
Then Krishna made his way to a forest nearby and lay down under a tree
when he became tired of walking.
A hunter named Jara was busy fishing in the sea. He caught some fish
and cut open one of them only to find a small piece of metal covered with
wood. Sensing that he could turn this into a strong weapon, Jara decided to
use it as the head of an arrow and sharpened it.
Later, he went to the same forest where Krishna was lying down. By
then, Krishna was in deep meditation. From a distance, Jara saw Krishna’s
foot and mistook it for a bird. He shot an arrow, and it pierced Krishna’s
foot. When Jara approached, he realized that it was not a bird but the foot of
a human. He begged Krishna for forgiveness, and Krishna consoled him.
‘This isn’t your fault, dear one. It is my destiny. I am meant to die this way.’
 Krishna recalled his previous birth as Rama, where he killed Vali by
shooting him unethically from the back. Vali had said, ‘O Lord, how could
you do that? It is not befitting your stature.’
Krishna, in his avatar as Rama, had replied, ‘You will shoot me from the
front in my next life, Vali. I promise you.’
Another story also goes about Jara, the son of Ekalavya. He was an infant
when the war of Mahabharata took place. Ekalavya wanted to join the side
of the Kauravas, since he had a grievance against Arjuna. That’s when
Krishna had visited Ekalavya and said to him, ‘You are a hunter, and your
art is solely for the purpose of hunting for food and for the protection of
your tribe. Do not join the war or take sides.’
Ekalavya, however, did not heed his words.
That’s when Krishna killed him with an arrow and quietly left so that
nobody would find out what had happened.
Later, Ekalavya’s wife found her husband dead and cried, ‘I curse
whoever has killed my dear husband. The murderer has fled quietly like a
bird, and he will also die like one.’
At the time, Ekalavya’s son, Jara, was a baby. His mother raised him to
hunt birds, telling him, ‘Your father was killed by someone who was as
quiet as a bird. Always look for birds and hunt them down.’
With that recollection, Krishna left his mortal body and went back to his
abode in the heavens.
Meanwhile, Arjuna received Krishna’s message about taking the women
and the old back to Hastinapur. By the time Arjuna rushed to Dwarka,
Krishna had already passed over and left his human body.
People mourned Krishna’s death deeply, and for some, like his wife
Rukmini, it was a precursor of their own death. Rukmini died of deep shock
after hearing about her husband’s unexpected demise. Vasudeva, Krishna’s
father, is believed to have passed over during meditation, while his mother,
Devaki, also met a sudden and unexplained end. As instructed, Arjuna
began relocating the remaining people. While on their journey, Arjuna and
his travelling companions were attacked by the people of the Abhira tribe.
Arjuna tried to use his bow Gandiva, but the bow had lost its power without
Krishna’s presence. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t save all his
companions and lost some of the women to the Abhira tribe, who stole
them away. With great difficulty, Arjuna brought the remaining people to
Hastinapur.
 Thus, Krishna’s avatar ended in a tragic manner, and signified the end of
the Yadava dynasty. The place where Krishna died is known as Bhalka, and
lies on the western coast of Gujarat.
 THE BEGINNING
Let the conversation begin…
Follow the Penguin Twitter.com@penguinIndia
Keep up-to-date with all our stories YouTube.com/penguinindia
Pin ‘Penguin Books’ to your Pinterest
Like ‘Penguin Books’ on Facebook.com/PenguinIndia
Find out more about the author and
discover more stories like this at Penguin.co.in
PENGUIN BOOKS
USA | Canada | UK | Ireland | Australia
New Zealand | India | South Africa | China
Penguin Books is part of the Penguin Random House group of companies whose addresses can be
found at global.penguinrandomhouse.com.

First published in Penguin Books by Penguin Random House India 2018

This Collection Published by 2018
Copyright © Sudha Murty 2018
The moral right of the author has been asserted
Cover Designer: Neelima P Aryan
ISBN: 978-0-143-44233-2
This digital edition published in 2018.
eISBN: 978-8-184-75417-9
This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent,
resold, hired out, or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior consent in any form of binding
or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this
condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.