MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#1: The Forest of Stories (Mba) Read online

  Unperturbed by Uttanka’s rebuke, Raja Janamajaya greeted him with full saluations and then said, ‘O king among brahmins, I perform my kshatriya dharma and care for the security of my people. Tell me, what else should I have done? I seek your wise counsel.’

  Uttanka explained himself: ‘Raje, it was Takshaka who inflicted violence upon your father, the mighty Parikshat. Therefore you must wreak vengeance on that evil-souled king of serpents. The time has come to take revenge and acquit yourself of your debt to your noble-souled father. Parikshat lived like a king ought to live, causing no offence, but despite his innocence this dastardly Takshaka bit him and struck him down like a tree struck by lightning. Arrogant with power, he committed heinous murder when he killed your great sire; it was nothing less than an assassination of a great monarch. When the sage Kashyapa tried to restrain him, he killed even that great seer. It is only fitting that you seek to burn this vile serpent lord in the blazing agni at your Sarpa Yagna. This is most vital. Continue with this yagna until Takshaka is destroyed and avenge your father. In so doing, you will also gain my deepest thanks and blessings. For I too was waylaid, obstructed, and cruelly set upon by the same vile Naga when I sought to do nothing more than fulfil my obligation of guru-dakshina.’

  After hearing Uttanka’s eloquent appeal, Raja Janamajaya’s wrath at Takshaka waxed greatly. As ghee fuels the yagna fire, so did Uttanka’s words inflame him. Until now he had only possessed the most general notion of how his father’s death had come about, but after Uttanka’s impassioned speech, for the first time he insisted on knowing every last detail of that macabre tragedy. When he heard the full story of his father’s demise, his heart was flooded with grief.

  ||Paksha Five||

  TALES OF THE BHRIGU

  ||One||

  The day’s rites, chores and lessons had been completed and all were assembled yet again. By now a familiar pattern had set in. Nobody needed to be told, reminded or called to the narration sessions. Sauti’s daily recitation of the Mahabharata epic was as much a part of everyone’s routine as breathing or bathing. Eager faces turned shining eyes toward him as he stood before the maharishis and rishis of Naimisha-sharanya. They were standing too, as were all the brahmacharyas. They could not be seated until he, their guest, was seated. And he would not take his seat until his host urged him to do so. He waited patiently but there was still no sign of Kulapati Shaunaka. It was not proper for him to enquire why the kulapati was taking so long to join them. Yet he was eager to continue the recitation as he had barely begun and there was yet a great sea of stories left to navigate.

  He joined his hands and enquired gently, ‘Honoured brahmins, tell me, what part of the great Bharata should I recite to you next?’ In response they replied with equal politeness, ‘Honourable son of Lomarsana, we are eager to hear every last shloka of the excellent epic and we know you will regale us with many more great tales of adventure and history. But our master Kulapati Shaunaka is busy in the sacred chamber of Agni, preserving the sacred fire. As you know, our guru is also learned in the Puranas. He knows the tales of devas and asuras. He also knows the stories of mortals, nagas and gandharvas. Son of Lomarsana, the venerable Shaunaka is the chief brahmin at this sacrifice, most able, faithful to his vows, a reservoir of wisdom and lore regarding the sacred Vedas as well as the aranyakas, the forest books. Scrupulously truthful and greatly revered by us all, his presence is awaited to grace us before we continue. We pray that you wait as well. Once our guru has taken his seat, we shall be most pleased to listen to whatever he asks you to recite next.’

  Ugrasrava, son of Lomarsana, said, ‘So shall it be.’ And it was agreed from that day on that only when Kulapati Shaunaka himself was seated and urged Sauti to continue, would the poet proceed with his recitation.

  Sauti expected his audience to show signs of impatience, restlessness. After all, the vast majority of those waiting were young brahmacharyas. But such was their love for their preceptor and so great their respect that none displayed the slightest hint of impatience. Everyone waited patiently until the kulapati completed his ritual in the house of Agni to his full satisfaction and in perfect accordance with the prescribed order of the rites, and only then came to the clearing where Sauti waited with the rest.

  Once he seated himself, Shaunaka said, ‘My son, in times past your father was renowned as a scholar of the Puranas. His knowledge of those great ancient anthologies was prodigious, and it was our good grace, a long time ago, to hear many of those fine tales from his lips. Tales of the divine, of the ancestors . . . As his son, I know that you too must be well versed in that ancient lore. Today, I have a great yearning to know the tales of the Bhrigu, in whose line I am descended. Pray, tell me those tales.’

  In his request, it was implicit that he apologized for deviating from the main narrative that Sauti was recounting. And now Ugrasrava understood why the rishis had bade him wait for their guru, not only on account of their respect for him and because Shaunaka did not wish to miss a single word of narrative, but also because the kulapati was eager to learn the history of his ancestors from Sauti. In a world where the only way one could know one’s history was through the recitations of other people, each man and woman was as a closed book filled with an unknown amount of knowledge. Kulapati Shaunaka hoped that perhaps Sauti possessed some version of his ancestor’s itihasa that would help him understand them—and by extension, himself—better. It was an honourable request and Sauti was pleased at the comparison the guru had made, equating him to his own father, for it was the highest compliment possible. He replied with great warmth.

  ‘Great one, you honour me. It is true, I have indeed studied the Puranas at my father’s feet and he passed on his vast store of knowledge to me. But the same tales you speak of are also incorporated in the great epic of Krishna Dweipayana Vyasa and I learned them from Vaisampayana as well. Of all the tales in that great epic, the itihasa of the Bhrigu is revered by the devas themselves, by Indra, Agni and the Maruts. I am privileged to narrate the same history to you now. I begin with Bhrigu, the first of your line, who sired a son named Chyavana Bhargava. Chyavana in turn had a son named Pramati and Pramati in turn married Ghritachi and they had a son named Ruru. Ruru and his wife Pramadvara had a son named Shunaka, a righteous and learned man, famous for being well-versed in the Vedas and the Shruti, dedicated to ascetism, truthful, honourable, wise in his understanding of the brahman that guides the universe and master of his own senses. Shunaka was your great-grandfather and it is for him you are named Shaunaka, or scion of Shunaka.’

  Kulapati Shaunaka leaned forward, his crow-black eyes gleaming in his age-lined face framed by his white beard and matted hair. ‘One question, O son of Suta, and then I shall not interrupt your narration. Why was Bhrigu’s son Chyavana given that name? It is one thing I have long desired to know. I would be grateful if you could tell me.’

  Sauti smiled. ‘It shall be my honour to share the knowledge. Listen, great one, to the tale of your ancestors.’

  ||Two||

  Bhrigu had a wife, greatly beloved to him. Her name was Puloma. Through the natural act between man and woman, she conceived from Bhrigu’s sperm and her womb flowered with his child. One day not long after, Sage Bhrigu left home as usual to perform a consecration ceremony. While he was gone, a rakshasa came to the ashram. This rakshasa stopped short at the very sight of Puloma. He gazed at her like one besotted. The sage’s wife, disconcerted though she was at his relentless gaze, performed her duty by honouring the guest, offering him a simple ashram repast of fruit and roots. But the rakshasa had eyes only for Puloma, and was filled with lust for her. Now among rakshasas, when one desires a mate, one is entitled to abduct her and marry her by force. This rakshasa desired to do the same with the wife of the sage. This rakshasa was named Puloman.

  Unable to contain his lust yet driven by a desire to know more before he committed any hasty act, he entered the room where the holy Agni was enthroned and addressed the sacred fire. ‘Mighty Agni,
I ask you under oath to tell me, whose wife is this woman. Tell me honestly, great Pavaka! Is this not the same woman who was engaged to be my own wife? It was her father who gave her hand in marriage to another man, this Bhrigu—who therefore committed a crime against me. Now that I have found my beloved Puloma again, I desire to take her with me and make her my own as is my right. It infuriates me that Bhrigu should possess my slim- waisted beauty when she was betrothed to me first!’

  The fire crackled and spat and hissed but spoke no response to Puloman’s questions. So the rakshasa repeated his queries even more passionately: ‘O Agni, I hail thee. You always bear true witness. You dwell in all creatures as an observer to the best and worst deeds. You are wise in knowledge of all karma. If you tell me that this woman who calls herself the wife of Sage Bhrigu is indeed the same Puloma who was betrothed to marry me first, then I shall consider Bhrigu to be her abductor and unlawful oath-breaker. I shall be entitled to carry her away and make her my own. You shall bear witness to this and settle this matter by revealing the truth. Answer me, great deva!’

  Again and again did the rakshasa ask Agni to reveal the truth. But how could Agni reply? The sacred fire the rakshasa was questioning was nurtured and fed by Bhrigu himself, in his own chamber within his ashram. Therefore it owed Bhrigu fealty. Not to mention the fact that even Agni deva who was in that fire as in all other fires everywhere, feared the wrath of Sage Bhrigu, who was strong in austerities and powerful in knowledge of brahman. If Agni spoke in the rakshasa’s favour, Bhrigu might well curse Agni. And a sage’s curse was a terrible thing. Yet if he took Bhrigu’s side and lied to the rakshasa, then he would betray his own true self, for as Puloman had rightly pointed out, fire never lied and could only speak with a true tongue. Therefore the sacred Agni desired only to keep silent and attempted to make only those sounds that fire makes and to speak no comprehensible words to the agitated rakshasa. But in its distress, it released a sound that could at best be described as a whispered incomprehensible word and at worst as a sigh. But so infuriated and desperate was the rakshasa that he took that inscrutable sound as affirmation.

  ||Three||

  Having heard Agni affirm his belief, Puloman, being a rakshasa, altered his guise to take the form of a boar and using supernatural power, abducted Puloma forcibly and carried Bhrigu’s wife away with the speed of the wind. Angered at the violence done to his mother and at being carried away from his father’s hermitage, the unborn son of Bhrigu fell from his mother’s womb. Thus was he named Chyavana, or the Deprived, for he had been deprived of his rightful place in his mother’s womb for the allotted period. When he witnessed the self-induced abortion, Rakshasa Puloman was shocked into releasing Puloma. Chyavana Bhrigu, just emerged from his mother’s womb well before his due time, nevertheless was filled with the power of righteousness. He blazed forth like a newborn sun, turning the rakshasa who had abducted his mother to ashes. Torn apart with pain, his mother Puloma fell down, weeping copiously. She struggled to regain her feet that she might carry her newborn son back to his father’s home, but she was in no condition to make the journey. As Bhrigu was one of the prajapatis, the forebears of humankind, and created by Brahma himself, thus was Puloma the daughter-in-law of the Creator. Hearing his daughter-in-law’s cries of pain, Brahma consoled her and collected her tears to form a great river. The river swelled and retraced her journey back to the ashram of Bhrigu, to mark the path of her abduction. In her honour, Brahma named that waterway Vidhusara, or Bride’s Run.

  On his return home, Sage Bhrigu was alarmed to find his wife missing. He was equally surprised to find the new waterway that passed by his ashram. Following the course of Vidhusara, he traced it back to the place where Puloma still lay, Chyavana beside her and the burnt skeleton of the rakshasa nearby. Through his knowledge of such creatures and occurrences, Bhrigu immediately surmised that this was the rakshasa Puloman and that he had attempted to abduct the woman to whom he had once been betrothed while Bhrigu was absent. But he could not understand how the rakshasa could have known for certain that Puloma was indeed the same woman without someone confirming this fact. When Puloma regained consciousness, he asked his wife: ‘Who was it who told the rakshasa about you? For without confirming the truth of your identity, he could not have abducted you thus. Someone must have told him that you were indeed the same woman who was betrothed to him earlier. Who was it?’ Puloma was greatly weakened by her ordeal but saw her husband’s anger and replied, ‘My lord, it was our own sacred fire. Agni himself told the rakshasa. For a great length of time the rakshasa ranted and raved in our agni chamber. Only when Agni confirmed his suspicions did he kidnap me. He would have spirited me far away from here by now, but thanks to your unborn son, his plan was thwarted. Our child aborted himself and left the safety of my womb to use his power to scorch the rakshasa to ashes. It is only thanks to him that both he and I are still here.’

  Furious at this betrayal, Bhrigu stormed into the chamber where he preserved and honoured the sacred fire. ‘For your betrayal, I curse you,’ he cried to Agni. ‘Henceforth, you shall be an omnivore and shall devour anything that is fed to you with no regard or respect!’

  ||Four||

  Agni was outraged at Bhrigu’s curse. ‘Great brahmin, why do you act so rashly today? I always adhere to dharma and tell the truth impartially regardless of the consequences. When pressed, I could not help but answer truthfully. What did I do wrong? A witness who is questioned and despite knowing the true facts bears false testimony condemns both his ancestors and descendants for seven generations! Failure to speak is not an option either, for he who knows the truth about any crime but wilfully refuses to give testimony becomes an accessory to that same crime! If I desire, I too could curse you for wrongly accusing me. But I serve brahmins and hold your varna in high esteem. Therefore, I shall remind you of my qualities that you appear to have forgotten in your rash haste. Listen well!’

  Agni continued in a fiery tone: ‘Through my yogic penance, I take many incarnations—in the form of agnihotras, sattras, and other rituals and ceremonial sacrifices. What oblation is offered to me in proper accordance with the precepts laid down for those rituals as described in the Vedas shall please the devas and the pitris. The former, the gods, are as water and so are the latter, the ancestors, and like all water upon this earth are therefore governed by the moon. The offerings at the new moon are for the devas and those of the full moon are for the ancestors. On all other phases of the moon, they are worshipped variously as one or individually. Since the devas and pitris eat what is poured onto me, therefore I am as their mouth to the Thirty-three Gods and all the ancestors. On the day of the new moon the ancestors, and on the day of the full moon the devas, all eat through me the sacred ghee that is offered. How can I therefore become omnivorous?’

  In great anger and in response to Bhrigu’s curse, Agni withdrew himself from the world. He disappeared from the agnihotras of the brahmins, from sattras, and all other ritual ceremonies and sacrifices everywhere. Deprived of omkaras, vashatkaras, svahas—the initial exclamations made when offering oblations, the oblations themselves, and the concluding exclamations—all beings on earth became most miserable. In desperation, the seers of the world appealed to the devas themselves: ‘The loss of fire has deprived the three worlds of all sacrificial rituals. We beg your swift intervention.’ The devas in turn went with the seers to almighty Brahma. They told him about Bhrigu’s curse on Agni and Agni’s subsequent protest. They supported the plea of Agni saying, ‘How can the very mouth of the devas and eater of prime portions of sacred oblations become omnivorous?’

  Brahma heard all arguments before summoning Agni. In gentle words, with great respect and honour, the Creator addressed him thus: ‘You are the maker of the three worlds and their destroyer. For all things are born of fire and shall return unto fire at the end of their days. By preserving all sacrifices and ceremonies, you preserve the three worlds as well. You are the being that births himself. You are the supreme form o
f energy. Your sovereignty cannot be disputed! How then can you behave thus childishly and withdraw yourself?

  You are pure and incontaminable and shall remain so eternally. You can never become an omnivore in your entire body, irrespective of the curse. Only flames that are meant for the acceptance of oblations shall consume everything offered to them—and yet, in consuming, you shall nevertheless render them pure as well! Just as the sun’s rays purify all things they touch so also shall you purify everything offered to and consumed by your flames meant for oblations. Do not fear the sage’s curse. Accept it! Let it come true. Accept the portions of the devas as well as your own when offered into your mouth. But purify everything you consume! Thus both the power of the sage’s curse as well as your own purity shall be upheld!’

  Agni heard the words of almighty Brahma and replied without argument: ‘So shall it be.’

  He obeyed the instructions of the Paramesthin thereafter.

  The devas and sages returned to their homes, delighted, and the sages resumed their ceremonies and oblations. All creatures on earth rejoiced. Freed from any taint, he consumed all things fed to him and remained pure eternally.

  This was the history of the curse and the reason why Agni consumes all that it is given, as well as the story of the destruction of the rakshasa Puloman and the birth of Chyavana.

  ||Five||

  Chyavana, son of Bhrigu, grew to manhood and wed a lady named Sukanya. In time, they had a radiant and great-souled son named Pramati. Pramati in turn wed Ghritachi and birthed a son named Ruru. And Ruru with his wife Pramadvara sired Shunaka. There is a great story concerning Ruru, he of resplendent might.