STORY THIRTEEN
The king went to
the Shimshapaa tree; placed the corpse with the spirit on his shoulder and
started walking.
Vetaala spoke to
him again-
“King! Listen to this
tiny tale!”
There is a city
named Vaaraanasee. A Brahmin named DevaSwaamy well respected by the king lived
there. He was very rich. He had a son
named HariSwaamy. He had a devoted wife
named Laavanyavati. The creator who had become practiced in making divine
beauties like Tilottamaa (a girl who is excellent in every atom of hers) had
made this girl endowed with extreme charm and beauty.
One night
HariSwaamy spent the night in the company of his wife on the terrace bathed by
the cool moon light and slept there happily. At that time a young Vidyaadhara
named MadanaVega happened to travel along the sky above the terrace on one of
his wayward journeys. He saw the beautiful Laavanyavati sleeping along with her
husband. He lifted the sleeping girl and carried her away in the sky.
Suddenly HariSwaamy
found that his wife was missing and got out of his bed shocked and worried.
‘Ah! Where did my wife
go? Is she angry with me? Or is she hiding some where by chance and laughing at
me trying to see how I react?’
Wondering in many
ways to reason out her absence, HariSwaamy spent the whole night searching her
in all the nooks and corners of the terrace. Later he searched all over the
house and the garden also and did not find her anywhere.
Burning in the fire
of grief he lamented-
“Ha! Moon-faced
beloved! Ha! My beloved with the body shining like moonlight!
Ha! My love! My
charming wife! Laavanyavati!
Has the night harmed you
in any way being envious of you for having similar characteristics (Moon,
Moonlight, coolness etc)?
This moon was
conquered by you in beauty and he obediently served me with his cool rays. Now
because you are gone, he has used up the opportunity to burn me with his rays
equaling hot embers and poisoned arrows!”
As HariSwaamy
suffered like this, the night slowly came to an end; but not his pangs of
separation!
In the morning Lord
Sun attacked the deep darkness with his rays and destroyed it; but could not
destroy the distress eating the heart of HariSwaamy.
His pathetic cries
rose up in the sky hundred fold more than the screams of Chakravaaka birds
heard at night.
Though his people
consoled him a lot, he was burning by the pangs of separation and could not
find peace without his beloved wife.
‘She stood here at this lace; she bathed
here; she decorated herself here; she wandered here.’ He cried like this looking at each place and
remembering her with affection.
His friends and
relatives said to him-
“As long as she is not
dead, how can you kill yourself like this lamenting for her? She will surely
return. Have courage! Search for her. There is nothing that cannot be attained
by a man who makes effort with bravery.”
HariSwaamy slowly
regained his composure within a few days and thought like this-
‘I will give off
everything in charity to the Brahmins and wander the pilgrimage centers; and
reduce my load of sins. When my sins get reduced, I will attain my beloved wife
sometime or other somewhere in my wanderings.’
He got up slowly
and finished his bathing etc.
Next day he
performed sacred rites; fed Brahmins with variety of food and drinks; gave off
all his wealth in charity to them. With only their blessings as his wealth, he
wandered many holy cities desirous of meeting his wife.
As he wandered the
summer arrived like a lion with the face of extremely hot sun and burning rays
appearing as the mane.
The wind was
blowing very hot as if increased in heat by the hot breath of the travelers
separated from their wives.
The lakes looked
heart-broken with their white dried up insides and all wealth of waters robbed
by the heat.
The trees filled
with thirsty screams of the birds appeared distressed by the separation of the beautiful
spring with their lips dried up as it were by the faded sprouts.
HariSwaamy
meanwhile suffering extremely from the heat of the Sun- by the separation of
his wife, thirst, and hunger, at last reached a village. There he saw that many
Brahmins were getting fed in a house of a Brahmin named PadmaNaabha. He just
stood at the
door-step silent
and unmoving. The Brahmin’s wife there
saw him in that condition and was moved by compassion. She thought-
‘Aha! Hunger is such a
strong factor that it makes light of any man! Here this man stands with his
head bent desiring some food. He looks
like as if he has travelled a long distance. He seems to have bathed स्नातः (learned) also. He
looks emaciated. He is fit to receive the charity of food.’
So thinking, that
good lady filled a vessel with delicious rice mixed with ghee and sugar;
carried it in her hands and offered him humbly and said-
“Go and eat this somewhere
near a water-well.”
HariSwaamy took
that food and went near a fig tree next to a well; and placed it under the
tree. He went to the well; washed his hands and feet; eagerly approached the
tree to eat his food. At the same time a vulture flew from the sky and sat on
the tree branch holding a serpent with its feet and beak. Getting pressed by
the vulture, a few drops of poison came out of the dead serpent’s mouth. Those
poison drops fell into the open vessel of food kept by the Brahmin. HariSwaamy
was unaware of this and ate off all the food being very hungry. The poison
started to burn him inside.
‘Alas! When fate is
against one what cannot happen! Even
this delicious food mixed with ghee and sugar has turned into poison for me.’
Lamenting like this,
HariSwaamy walked with stumbling steps towards the Brahmin’s house there and
told the lady of the house-
“Brahmin lady! The food given by you has poisoned me.
Quickly call for some expert who can treat poison. Otherwise you will incur the
sin of killing a Brahmin.”
The lady was
shocked by all this and quickly brought an expert who could treat poison.
But before anything
could be done, HariSwaamy’s pupils of the eyes moved upwards and he died. Though
this was no fault of hers, though she had acted out of compassion only, her
angry husband accused her of killing a Brahmin and threw her out. Falsely
holding the blame for a faulty event produced by a good action, she felt
dejected and went off to perform penance in some holy place.
END
Vetaala finished the story and questioned the king-
“King! Who is responsible for the death of the Brahmin among the
serpent, vulture and the charitable Brahmin lady? This case was debated even in
the court of Lord Yama; yet no conclusion was reached.
So King of Kings! You solve this case. Who incurs the sin of killing
the Brahmin?
My curse will take effect if you hide the answer even when you know
it.”
The king broke his silence and said-
“Whose is the sin?
How can the serpent be held responsible? It was helpless and was
getting consumed by its enemy!
The vulture was hungry and it did not see anything other than its food.
It was also not the cause of Brahmin’s death.
The Brahmin couple fed the guest who had suddenly arrived. Together or
individually, they are also not responsible for the death. They were acting
according to Dharma and do not incur the sin.
I have only this opinion, that whoever accuses anyone of these as the
killer without proper reasoning alone incurs the sin of the Brahmin’s death.”
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