220. Katha Sarit Sagara : Chapter 10
The Saga of Destiny: Shridatta and the Moon-Faced Princess
Chapter 1. The King's Grief and a Storyteller's Assurance
The air in the Vindhya forest was thick with the scent of night-blooming jasmine, but for King Sahasranika, the peace was a mockery. He lay upon his royal cot, cloaked in fine silk, yet his heart was burdened with a grief heavier than any armor. Having traveled a long, weary distance, he had encamped by the serene, black mirror of a lake. The flickering lamp cast long, nervous shadows across the tent’s silk walls, mimicking the turmoil inside him.
"Sangataka," the King called, his voice a dry whisper that seemed too weak for a ruler. "Come closer, my friend."
A man with gentle eyes and a gift for weaving words, Sangataka, the story-teller, approached, kneeling respectfully. "My Lord, you look pale. Does the fatigue of the journey still cling to you?"
The King turned his face toward the tent's roof, closing his eyes against the image of his absent Queen. "It is not the roads that weary me, Sangataka. It is the road of separation. My heart is in Ujjayini, with my Queen, Mrigavati. Tell me, dear friend, how does a man bear this longing, this agony of knowing his beloved exists, yet is held from him by a cruel, divine curse?" He opened his eyes, now glistening. "Tell me a tale that will gladden my heart, for I am longing for the joy of beholding the lotus-face of Mrigavati."
Sangataka dipped his head lower, his expression one of deep compassion. "King, why do you grieve without cause? The union with your Queen, which will mark the termination of your curse, is nigh at hand. The divine wheel of Karma is relentless; it separates and unites, tests and rewards. Human beings experience many unions and separations. A story to illustrate this truth will soothe your noble spirit. Listen, my Lord, to the tale of Śridatta and Mrigankavati, a narrative of a hero who was stripped of everything, only to be guided by destiny to his true love and his promised kingdom. He, too, felt the fire of separation, yet his firm resolve led him through the darkness."
The King sighed, a sound of heavy resignation. "Very well, Sangataka. Let the story begin. Perhaps in another man's suffering, I shall find the strength to endure my own."
Chapter 2. Introduction of Shridatta and His Brother Vigatabhaya
Sangataka began, his voice taking on the sonorous quality of a seasoned bard, painting a picture of an age long past.
"Once on a time, my King, there lived in the rich, fertile country of Malava, a Bráhman who was revered by all, a scholar of the Vedas and a man of boundless piety named Yajnasoma. His reputation for virtue and knowledge preceded him like a sweet fragrance. This good man was blessed with two sons, both beloved by the people of Malava, yet possessing natures as distinct as the sun and the moon.
"The elder was named Kalanemi, a man of fierce intelligence, quick wit, and an ambition that burned hotter than the sacrificial fire he tended. He possessed a sharp mind for worldly affairs but carried within him a seed of envy that, like a dark root, would eventually corrupt his soul. He yearned not just for wisdom, but for wealth and power, the trappings of the very kings he served.
"The second son, known as Vigatabhaya—whose name means 'Fearless'—was the gentler soul. He was devout, philosophical, and dedicated to the pure path of learning and pilgrimage. Vigatabhaya sought only peace and knowledge, unburdened by the material desires that consumed his older brother. They grew up in a household steeped in tradition, learning the sacred verses and the philosophical debates of the age.
"Then, alas, their revered father, Yajnasoma, went to heaven, leaving the two young men at a critical crossroads. They had passed through the age of childhood but still needed the final refinement of their education. Setting aside their grief, and their inherited lands, the two brothers—Kalanemi with his fierce ambition, Vigatabhaya with his quiet resolve—traveled together to the famed city of Pátaliputra to acquire the highest learning.
"After years of rigorous study under their guru, Devasharman, they finally completed their vast education. Pleased with their dedication, their teacher, in a gesture of profound respect and affection, bestowed upon them his own two daughters in marriage. The daughters were, Sangataka paused for effect, 'like another couple of sciences incarnate in bodily form.' Thus, the two brothers became householders, poised to begin their life's work, but the disparity in their desires soon tore them apart."
Chapter 3. Kalanemi's Prophecy and the Birth of Shridatta
"It was in Pataliputra, the great metropolis, that Kalanemi's dark nature truly revealed itself," the storyteller continued. "He watched the affluent householders around him, the merchants with their glittering gold, the nobles with their vast retinues, and a bitter, scorching envy consumed him. 'Why should I, a Bráhman of such formidable intellect, live in meager comfort while fools feast on abundance?' he muttered to his reflection in the well water. 'Knowledge is powerless without the support of Fortune!'
"Driven by this impure motive—the desire for wealth fueled by jealousy, not necessity—Kalanemi made a fearsome vow. He began intense rites, propitiating the Goddess of Fortune, Lakshmi, with difficult burnt-offerings. Day and night, the sacrificial smoke rose from his hearth, mixed with the prayers of his consuming avarice. His wife watched him, her brow furrowed with apprehension.
"'My Lord,' she implored one evening, her voice trembling, 'Your austerities are mighty, but your heart is troubled. The Goddess accepts pure devotion. This fever for gold… it darkens your face. What is the aim of this fierce offering?'
"Kalanemi merely stared into the blazing fire, his eyes like polished stones. 'My aim is the throne of the earth, wife. Silence. The Goddess approaches!'
"And indeed, the Goddess of Fortune, satisfied by the sheer intensity of his ritual, appeared in bodily form. The light was so overwhelming that Kalanemi shielded his eyes, falling upon his knees. She was a vision of majesty, garlanded with gold, yet her expression was severe, tinged with a deep sadness.
"'Kalanemi, I am satisfied,' her voice resonated like the ringing of a thousand temple bells. 'Thou shalt obtain great wealth and a magnificent son who shall rule the earth.'
"Kalanemi lifted his head, his face alight with greedy triumph. 'Oh, Divine Mother, your grace knows no bounds!'
"But the Goddess held up a restraining hand, and her voice dropped to a grim finality. 'Wait, mortal. Because thou hast offered flesh—the flesh of thy pure spirit, corrupted by envy—in the sacred fire with impure motives, thy life is stained. At last, thou shalt be put to death like a robber.' Having delivered this dual prophecy—great fortune mixed with a violent, shameful end—the Goddess disappeared in a flash of blinding light.
"Kalanemi, though momentarily shaken by the dark prediction, focused only on the promise of wealth. In course of time, he became immensely rich. More importantly, after some days, a son was born to him. Remembering the favor of the Goddess of Fortune, the father named the boy Shridatta, meaning 'Gift of Fortune.' As Shridatta grew, a strange truth emerged: though born a Bráhman, he was matchless on earth not in letters, but in the physical arts—the use of weapons, boxing, and wrestling. He was a force of nature."
Chapter 4. Shridatta's Rise in Skill and Vigatabhaya's Departure
"Shridatta grew not only in stature but in formidable strength. His Bráhmanical thread seemed oddly paired with the immense, powerful frame of a warrior. While his peers recited the Vedas, Shridatta mastered the mace and the bow, his hands developing the calluses of a Kshatriya. His father, Kalanemi, encouraged this deviation, seeing the fulfillment of the Goddess’s prophecy—the son who would rule the earth.
"Meanwhile, the shadow of separation fell upon the other branch of the family. Vigatabhaya, the gentle brother, suffered a profound tragedy. His beloved wife, the daughter of their guru, died suddenly from the bite of a snake. The grief was overwhelming, unendurable. Finding no peace in his house, and seeing the cold avarice that now defined his brother Kalanemi's home, Vigatabhaya decided to abandon worldly life.
"'Brother,' Vigatabhaya said to Kalanemi, his eyes red-rimmed with sorrow, 'I must leave this place. The memory of her presence poisons my peace. I go on a pilgrimage to visit all the sacred places of our land. Do not try to hold me back. My road lies with the Gods, yours with gold.'
"Kalanemi, preoccupied with counting his vast wealth and instructing his son in the arts of combat, barely looked up. 'Go, brother. I wish you well. My son, Shridatta, is my legacy now. May your pilgrimages bring you the peace my fortune denies you.'
"And so, Vigatabhaya departed to a foreign land, seeking solace and purification, never imagining the tragic fate that awaited his brother and his nephew.
"As for young Shridatta, his reputation for prowess reached the ears of the King of the land, Vallabhashakti. The King, a wise patron of talent, recognized the young man's extraordinary qualities and, in a gesture of high honor, made Shridatta the companion of his own son, Prince Vikramashakti. This appointment placed the Bráhman hero in the delicate, dangerous position of living with a haughty, arrogant prince, much as the impetuous Bhíma lived in his youth with the jealous Duryodhana. The stage was set for an inevitable clash of destinies."
Chapter 5. Rivalry with Prince Vikramashakti
"The position of companion to the Prince was a gilded cage, my King," Sangataka narrated, his voice dropping in suspense. "Prince Vikramashakti was every bit as haughty as Shridatta was formidable. Their relationship was a constant, barely contained tension, a quiet battle for dominance that was destined to erupt. Shridatta, though a Bráhman, commanded more respect from the King’s troops for his sheer, honest skill than the entitled Prince.
"It was during this period that Shridatta forged true bonds. Two fierce Kshatriyas from Avanti, named Báhushálin and Vajramushṭi, recognized the Bráhman’s pure merit and became his fast friends. Furthermore, several sons of ministers from the Deccan region, men of honor who knew how to value genuine strength, having been defeated by Shridatta in friendly wrestling matches, spontaneously attached themselves to him. These four included Mahábala, Vyághrabhaṭa, Upendrabala, and the pragmatic Nishṭhuraka. Shridatta was now surrounded by a formidable circle of loyal admirers.
"As the years rolled on, the King's appreciation for Shridatta's skills grew, and the Prince's resentment festered. The Bráhman hero was the constant victor, the quiet superior in every test of strength or wit. This rivalry reached its breaking point one sun-drenched day.
"Shridatta, in attendance on Prince Vikramashakti, went with his friends to sport on the bank of the mighty Ganges River. It was a day of merriment and mock battle. Then, in a spontaneous act of admiration, the Prince's own servants, recognizing Shridatta's leadership, suddenly made him king in a playful ceremony. Simultaneously, his loyal friends declared Shridatta their ruler. They lifted him onto their shoulders, cheering his name with a fervor they never showed the true Prince.
"Prince Vikramashakti stood rigid with fury. His face, usually pale, flushed crimson. His position, his birthright, had been mocked by a Bráhman. 'How dare you, commoner! A Bráhman does not rule Kshatriyas!' he roared, his voice thick with overweening confidence. He immediately challenged Shridatta, the hero, to a formal duel of wrestling. 'Let the river decide who is the true superior!'"
Chapter 6. The Fight and Shridatta's Escape
"The challenge hung heavy in the humid Ganges air. Shridatta, though reluctant to antagonize the Prince further, knew he could not refuse without inviting immediate, deep contempt. The two men met in the dusty sand, the Prince relying on raw aggression and fury, Shridatta on technique, calm strength, and the power of his destiny.
"The contest was brief and brutal. Shridatta, with a swift, powerful maneuver, utterly conquered the Prince, hurling him to the ground with a resounding thud. Vikramashakti, disgraced before his servants and his rival's friends, lay gasping, not from pain, but from the searing humiliation. The crowd was silent; the applause was trapped in their throats.
"From that moment, all friendship, all pretense of companionship, vanished. Vikramashakti rose, brushed the dirt from his fine clothes, and fixed Shridatta with a look of cold, murderous hatred. 'This rising hero must be put to death,' the Prince resolved in his mind. 'I will not live in the shadow of a Bráhman wrestler.' He began plotting immediately, seeking ways to murder Shridatta quietly.
"But Shridatta was no fool. He was sharp in observation as he was swift in action. He saw the shift in the Prince's eyes—from anger to lethal intent. He found out the Prince's murderous intention and withdrew in alarm, quietly gathering his loyal friends.
"'My friends, we must flee,' Shridatta declared urgently to Báhushálin and the others. 'The Prince's envy is now a weapon aimed at my throat. Our lives are forfeit if we remain in Pataliputra.'
"His friends, bound by their spontaneous loyalty, agreed instantly. With no time for formal goodbyes or preparations, Shridatta and his companions withdrew swiftly and silently from the Prince's presence, leaving the great city behind them, plunging into the uncertain path of exile. They walked along the bank of the Ganges, the vast river a witness to both the Prince's downfall and the hero's sudden flight."
Chapter 7. The Rescue of Vidyutprabhā and the Underwater Temple
"As they hurried along the riverbank, their eyes constantly scanning the shadows for the Prince's assassins, they were confronted by a sight of stunning distress," Sangataka described. "In the middle of the turbulent Ganges, a woman was being dragged under by the fierce current, struggling desperately. She was beautiful, her face terrified, making her look, for a fleeting second, like the Goddess of Fortune herself, sinking in the middle of the sea.
"'Friends, I cannot pass by such suffering!' Shridatta exclaimed, his moral compass overriding his immediate danger. 'A Kshatriya's duty—even a Bráhman with a warrior's heart—is to protect the helpless!'
"He immediately plunged into the churning water to pull her out, leaving Báhushálin and his five other friends calling his name anxiously from the riverbank. Shridatta was a powerful swimmer, reaching her quickly. He seized the woman firmly by the hair—the only anchor point available—but instead of being pulled to safety, she suddenly and inexplicably began to sink deeper and deeper, dragging him down with her immense, unnatural weight.
"'Let me go!' Shridatta choked, but his grip remained firm. 'I will save you!'
"He dived as deep as he could, determined to follow her, unwilling to let his rescue attempt fail. The pressure became unbearable. Then, with a sudden, dizzying lurch, he realized he had crossed a threshold. After he had dived a long way, he suddenly found himself standing not in water, but on dry, cool ground!
"He was standing in a vast, subterranean realm, a majestic, shimmering space that defied all logic. There was no water and no woman, only a marvelous and splendid temple of Lord Shiva, the Destroyer. Its architecture was divine, bathed in an ethereal, otherworldly light. A profound weariness settled upon him, and Shridatta, beholding that wonderful sight, paid his devout adorations to the god whose emblem is a bull, spending that night resting in a beautiful, fragrant garden attached to the temple. He had stumbled into the hidden Pátala Loka, the netherworld."
Chapter 8. Vidyutprabhā's Identity and the Curse of the Yaksha-Lion
"The garden of the subterranean temple was a haven, but Shridatta's mind was reeling from the sheer impossibility of his journey. When the morning light—a soft, golden glow in this realm—broke, the mystery began to resolve itself.
"The very lady he had tried to save in the river appeared, having come to worship Lord Shiva. She was even more breathtaking than his memory, looking like the incarnate splendor of beauty attended by every imaginable womanly perfection. She moved with a haughty grace, her moon-face serious and focused on her prayers.
"After she had worshipped the God, the beautiful one departed quickly toward her own house, and Shridatta, recovering from his awe, followed her. He found her palace—a magnificent, towering structure resembling the city of the very Gods themselves. The graceful lady entered hurriedly and contemptuously, without so much as a glance or a word for the man who had risked his life for her.
"She sat down on a luxurious sofa in the inner part of the house, waited upon by thousands of attendants. Shridatta, baffled and insulted, took a seat near her, determined to demand an explanation. Then, suddenly, the virtuous lady began to weep. The change was stark and immediate; tear-drops fell in a continuous, unceasing shower upon her bosom, staining her silks.
"That moment, all of Shridatta's anger dissolved, replaced by a surge of deep, protective pity. 'Who are you, noble lady, and what is the nature of your sorrow?' he asked, his voice soft but firm. 'Tell me, fair one, for I am a man capable of removing it.'
"She looked at him reluctantly, her eyes pools of tragic emotion. 'We are the thousand granddaughters of Bali, the great king of the Daityas. I am the eldest of all, and my name is Vidyutprabhá—'Lightning Splendor.' Her confession was heavy with ancient history. 'That grandfather of ours was carried off by Vishnu to long imprisonment, and that same hero slew our father in a brutal wrestling-match. After he slew him, he excluded us from our own magnificent city. To prevent us from entering, he placed a fierce, powerful Lion to guard the gates.'
"'That Lion,' she continued, 'occupies our father’s throne, and grief occupies our hearts. But this Lion is not a mere beast. It is a Yaksha who was made a lion by the curse of Kuvera, the God of Wealth. Long ago, Vishnu informed us of a prophecy: the Yaksha's curse should end when he was conquered by some mortal hero. Therefore, O hero, I enticed you hither—to subdue that Lion, our enemy, and reclaim our ancestral home.'"
Chapter 9. The Conquest of the Lion and the Acquisition of the Mrigánka Sword
"The revelation—that she had risked his life and tricked him to serve her own purpose—only fueled Shridatta's heroic spirit," Sangataka said. "He was a man who embraced impossible challenges. The Lion was not just an enemy; it was a task worthy of his immense strength.
"'I understand now, lady,' Shridatta declared, rising to his feet, his mind already calculating the combat. 'I accept your purpose. A hero's strength is meaningless unless tested by the direst need. Lead me to this Yaksha-Lion. Your city will be yours again.'
"Vidyutprabhá's face, for the first time, showed a flicker of admiration for the mortal hero. Shridatta spent the remainder of that day in preparation, resting his body and sharpening his mind, anticipating a battle against a creature of terrible, supernatural might.
"On the morrow, Shridatta took the Daitya maidens with him as guides, and they went to the desolate, magnificent city. There, guarding the desolate throne room, was the fearsome Yaksha, trapped in the physical form of a massive, arrogant Lion. The roar alone could shake the foundations of the earth.
"The combat began. It was a match of man against the essence of divine wrath. Shridatta, relying on the wrestling skill that had defeated Prince Vikramashakti, fought with a primal ferocity. He grappled with the lion, enduring its savage claws and immense weight. Finally, with a maneuver of unparalleled skill and power, Shridatta utterly overcame the haughty Lion in wrestling, pinning it to the ground.
"The moment the Lion tasted defeat at the hands of a mortal, a brilliant flash of light enveloped the beast. The curse ended. The Lion was instantly freed from its animal form and assumed the shining, celestial shape of the Yaksha. Out of overwhelming gratitude, the Yaksha gave his most treasured possession to the man who had put an end to his long suffering: a magnificent, divine sword named Mṛigáṅka—'Moon-mark.'
"'Hero,' the Yaksha said, his human voice full of wonder, 'by the virtue of this sword, you shall conquer the world and become a king. May your destiny be fulfilled.' The Yaksha then disappeared, and with him vanished the heavy burden of sorrow from the great Asura’s daughter."
Chapter 10. Betrayal by Vidyutprabhā and Return to the Ganges Bank
"Shridatta, now a true hero of the netherworld, stood victorious with the magnificent Mṛigáṅka sword strapped to his side, the very blade of destiny," Sangataka continued. "Together with Vidyutprabhá, who was accompanied by her numerous younger sisters, he entered that splendid city, which looked like the great serpent Ananta having just emerged from the earth. The air was electric with triumph and the promise of a future forged by their alliance.
"The Daitya maiden, fully in control of her ancestral domain, was now free to pursue her own, deeper agenda. She expressed her gratitude, and in a gesture of profound affection and appreciation, she gave Shridatta a ring—a magical artifact that destroyed the effect of poison.
"The young hero, though aware of her initial trickery, was completely captivated by her beauty and her fierce spirit. Remaining there in the ethereal city, he fell deeply in love with Vidyutprabhá. He proposed his devotion, seeking her hand and her partnership.
"Vidyutprabhá, however, was cunning. Her mission was complete, and a mortal hero, no matter how great, was a distraction to her royal destiny. She smiled a seductive, dangerous smile and said to him, 'My Lord, you are covered in the dust of battle and the grime of your long journey. Before we speak of vows, bathe in this sacred tank nearby. But be warned: the depths are home to dangerous crocodiles. To keep off the danger, you must take the Mṛigáṅka sword with you when you dive in.'
"Shridatta, blinded by his passion and trusting her sincerity, consented. Holding the great sword and wearing the ring, he dove into the dark, reflective water of the tank. The cool embrace of the water was sudden and overwhelming.
"The moment he dipped beneath the surface, the magic was broken. The tank was a cunning, well-disguised portal. Shridatta did not swim. He simply rose up, with a gasp and a spray of river water, upon that very bank of the Ganges from which he had first plunged in!
"He stood alone, covered in river mud, staring at the familiar, real-world riverbank. He was back in Pátaliputra. He looked down, seeing the Poison-Destroying Ring on his finger and the majestic Mṛigáṅka Sword at his hip. He felt a profound sense of astonishment at having emerged from the nether regions, and an equally profound despondency at having been so cleanly, so clinically tricked by the calculating Asura maid. His only connection to that incredible adventure was the ring and the sword—the weapons of his destiny."
Chapter 11. News of the Father's Death and Vikramaśakti's Reign
"The world Shridatta returned to was the world of brutal, mortal politics—and it was a world that had moved on without him," Sangataka narrated. "He was suddenly and tragically alone. His first, immediate thought was to find his loyal friends—Báhushálin, Nishṭhuraka, and the others—to recount his impossible adventure and seek their counsel. He walked toward the path leading back to his old home, his heart heavy with foreboding.
"As he was going, he saw his friend Nishṭhuraka advancing rapidly toward him. Nishṭhuraka was disheveled, his face lined with anxiety and exhaustion. He saw Shridatta, shouted his name in disbelief, and ran to him, falling at his feet and saluting him with overwhelming emotion.
"'Friend! By the grace of the Gods, you are alive!' Nishṭhuraka whispered, quickly pulling Shridatta aside into a lonely, shaded grove. He looked around nervously, like a man hunted.
"Shridatta, still recovering from the shock of his teleportation, asked urgently for news of his family and friends. Nishṭhuraka's face crumpled, reflecting the deep tragedy that had occurred during Shridatta's absence.
"'My friend, prepare yourself,' Nishṭhuraka began, his voice hoarse with pain. 'The days you were gone were a period of horror here. We searched for you endlessly in the Ganges, and in our grief, we were preparing to cut off our own heads—to join you in death—but a divine voice from heaven forbade it, saying, "My sons, do no rash act, your friend shall return alive." That message alone saved us.'
"He paused, swallowing hard. 'But that is not the worst news. We were returning to your father's house when a man met us with dire warnings. He told us we must not enter the city. King Vallabhashakti is dead. The ministers, in a hasty, fearful consensus, conferred the royal dignity on Vikramashakti—your bitter rival, the Prince!'
"A cold dread settled upon Shridatta. 'The Prince? That arrogant fool? What has this to do with my family?'
"Nishṭhuraka could barely look him in the eye. 'The day after he was made king, Vikramashakti went straight to the house of your father, Kalanemi. Full of long-held wrath, he demanded to know where his son, Shridatta, was. Your father replied, truthfully, 'I do not know.' The King, in a tyrannical rage, supposing Kalanemi had concealed his son, had him put to death by impalement as a thief! When your mother saw this monstrous act, her heart broke, and she died immediately of grief.'"
Chapter 12. The Reunion with Nishṭhuraka and the Friends' Dispersion
"The words struck Shridatta with the force of a thunderbolt. His world, already turned upside down by the Daitya maiden's trickery, was now utterly shattered. His father, whose life had been a tragic mix of prophetic wealth and final, shameful violence, had met the dark fate foretold by the Goddess of Fortune. His mother, pure and gentle, had succumbed to heartbreak.
"Shridatta stood motionless, his grief a dry, silent fire. He gazed at the Mṛigáṅka Sword, the weapon of destiny, and a new, terrible resolve hardened his features. He was no longer a seeker; he was an Avenger. He cast many a look at his sword, as if reposing in that silent, luminous steel his sole hope of vengeance against the tyrannical Vikramashakti.
"'My uncle, Vigatabhaya… do you have any news of him?' Shridatta asked, the name a faint whisper.
"'None,' Nishṭhuraka replied sadly. 'He went on his pilgrimage long ago and has not been heard from.'
"Nishṭhuraka then urged Shridatta to listen to the rest of the warning. 'Men of cruel deeds must always pile one evil action upon another. Vikramashakti is now searching for Shridatta to slay him. And you, my friend, are his loyal companions. That same informant warned us: "Leave this place, and quickly!"'
"The pressure on Shridatta's friends had been immediate and severe. Nishṭhuraka explained, 'When we heard this dire news, Báhushálin and his four other companions, heartbroken by the loss of your family, made a common decision. They went to their own home in the city of Ujjayiní to wait and plan. They left me here in concealment, my friend, at great personal risk, only for your sake—to wait for your promised return.'
"'My only remaining hope is your brotherhood,' Shridatta declared, placing a hand on Nishṭhuraka's shoulder. 'Come, my only friend. My vengeance must wait. We will go to that very city of Ujjayiní, as fast as our feet can carry us, to meet our friends. We will gather our strength there, and then, only then, will I return to claim the blood price from Vikramashakti.'
"The two set out immediately for Ujjayiní, the city of their friends, Shridatta now bearing the dual burden of profound loss and a destiny that demanded a throne."
Chapter 13. The Encounter with the Rákṣasī
"As the two friends journeyed, Shridatta recounted the unbelievable wonders of his adventures in the netherworld, from his initial plunge into the Ganges to the final, clean trickery of the Daitya maid and the gift of the Mṛigáṅka sword," Sangataka said. "Nishṭhuraka listened, spellbound, his worries momentarily eclipsed by the scale of his friend's destiny.
"As they traveled, Shridatta, ever the protector, beheld a woman weeping by the side of the road. She was dressed in fine but tattered clothes, her face etched with exhaustion and despair.
"'What is your sorrow, lady?' Shridatta asked compassionately.
"'I am a woman going to Ujjayiní,' she sobbed, 'and I have lost my way, separated from my caravan. I fear the night will claim me.'
"Shridatta, out of deep pity and the desire to perform a simple, good deed after his recent tragedies, made her journey along with him. He and Nishṭhuraka, together with that woman whom he kept with him out of compassion, arrived that evening in a certain deserted town—a place of ruined stones and deathly silence, offering only the thinnest promise of shelter.
"They made camp in the ruins, utterly exhausted from the day's travel and the emotional strain of their escape. Shridatta, his body finally submitting to fatigue, fell into a deep, heavy sleep.
"In the dead of night, Shridatta suddenly woke up. He felt a chilling presence and a soft, rhythmic, sickening sound. His eyes snapped open. The moonlight, filtering through the broken walls, illuminated a scene of unimaginable horror.
"The woman, his companion from the road, was hunched over the sleeping form of his loyal friend, Nishṭhuraka. She had viciously slain him and was now tearing at his flesh, devouring his body with a look of savage, utter delight. The moonlight glinted off her teeth and the blood covering her face.
"Shridatta, the warrior in him instantly awake, rose up in a terrible, cold fury, drawing his sword Mṛigáṅka with a speed that defied the darkness.
"The woman, caught in her ghastly feast, looked up at him with eyes that glowed red in the night. The compassionate traveler dissolved, and she assumed her own terrible form—the monstrous, grotesque body of a Rákshasí, a night-wanderer, a devourer of men. Shridatta, unfazed by her demonic transformation, seized that creature by her hair, lifting her massive, horrifying head to slay her with the sword of destiny, to avenge his fallen friend."
Chapter 14. The Rákṣasī's Curse and the Restoration of Nishṭhuraka
"As Shridatta lifted the Mṛigáṅka Sword high, the air crackled with power," Sangataka narrated. "The Rákshasí, held fast by the hero's unbreakable grip on her hair, cried out, not in defiance, but in desperation.
"That moment, she assumed a shining, celestial shape—the form of an Apsara, a heavenly dancer—and pleaded, 'Slay me not, mighty hero! Let me go! I am not, by nature, a Rákshasí! A powerful curse compels me!'
"Shridatta hesitated, the edge of his sword catching the moonlight. 'Speak quickly, fiend! Why have you slain my friend, and why do you now assume this celestial form?'
"'I am cursed by the great hermit Viśvámitra,' she confessed, her celestial voice full of ancient pain. 'Once, he performed austerities, desiring the position of the God of Wealth. I was sent by the Gods to impede him. When I failed to seduce him with my alluring form, I tried to terrify him by taking on a formidable, monstrous shape. Seeing this, the furious hermit laid a curse on me suitable to my offense, exclaiming: "Wicked one, become a Rákshasí and slay men!"'
"She looked at Shridatta with profound gratitude. 'But he appointed that my curse should end the moment a heroic mortal took hold of my hair. I have now devoured all the inhabitants of this deserted town, and today, after a long, horrific time, you have brought my curse to an end, exactly in the manner foretold. Therefore, receive now a boon, for my gratitude is boundless!'
"Shridatta immediately lowered his sword. He did not ask for power, nor wealth, nor even a kingdom. He looked at the lifeless body of his loyal friend, Nishṭhuraka. 'Mother,' he said respectfully, 'grant me one boon, and one only. Restore my friend to life! What need have I of any other reward?'
"'So be it,' she said, smiling with the radiant joy of freedom. The Apsara vanished. Nishṭhuraka suddenly stirred, then sat up, alive, utterly without a scratch on his body, as if waking from a deep, dreamless sleep.
"Shridatta helped his friend to his feet, embracing him tightly. They were both delighted and astonished by the miracle. The next morning, the two set out again, the horrific incident a testament to the hero's power over death itself, and at last, they reached the city of Ujjayiní, where their destiny lay in wait."
Chapter 15. Arrival in Ujjayiní and Reunion with Friends
"The journey to Ujjayiní was swift, propelled by the urgent desire to reunite with their brethren," Sangataka recounted. "When Shridatta and Nishṭhuraka entered the mighty city, they quickly made their way to the home of Báhushálin.
"The four friends—Báhushálin, Vajramushṭi, Mahábala, Vyághrabhaṭa, and Upendrabala—were sitting together, their faces clouded with grief and anxiety, perpetually expecting news of the friend they thought was surely dead. They were like the parched earth, waiting for the monsoons.
"Then, the two exiles entered. The sight of Shridatta, tall, strong, and carrying the Mṛigáṅka Sword, revived the spirits of his friends as instantly as the arrival of the cloud revives the thirsty peacocks. A great, tumultuous roar of joy went up. They rushed forward, embracing the man they believed lost forever.
"'Shridatta! Brother! How is this possible? We heard nothing! Where have you been?' Báhushálin cried, tears streaming down his face.
"Shridatta smiled, a rare expression of genuine happiness. 'My brothers, destiny held me fast! I was in the netherworld, wrestled a god, and battled a Rákshasí!'
"He then told them all the wonders of his recent adventures: the sinking in the Ganges, the underwater temple, the cunning of Vidyutprabhá, the prophecy of the Mṛigáṅka sword, the brutal murder of his parents, the flight with Nishṭhuraka, and the miraculous, terrifying encounter with the Rákshasí that led to Nishṭhuraka's brief death and resurrection.
"Báhushálin, listening to the tale, felt a profound respect for Shridatta's impossible fate. He immediately went through the usual formalities of hospitality, taking Shridatta to his own magnificent home. There, Shridatta was taken care of by the parents of Báhushálin, who treated him with the loving reverence due to a royal son. Shridatta lived with his friends, his loyal fraternity, as comfortably as if he were in his own rightful house, but the thirst for vengeance and the promise of his destiny simmered beneath the surface of his temporary peace."
Chapter 16. Love at First Sight: Meeting Princess Mṛigāṅkavatī
"The season turned, and the great feast of spring-tide, the Vasantotsava, arrived, filling the city of Ujjayiní with color, music, and celebration," Sangataka continued, his tone lightening. "The dark mood of vengeance was briefly eclipsed by the universal joy of renewal.
"Shridatta, accompanied by his five loyal friends, went to behold the festal rejoicings in a magnificent royal garden on the outskirts of the city. The place was a riot of color, full of joyful citizens and perfumed by blossoms.
"It was there, among the spectacle, that Shridatta's gaze settled upon a single vision. He beheld a maiden, the daughter of the local king, Bimbaki, who had come to see the show. She was utterly breathtaking, looking like the very Goddess of the Splendour of Spring, present in bodily form. Her beauty was luminous, her carriage regal, yet her eyes held an undeniable, captivating softness.
"This was Mṛigāṅkavatī—the 'Moon-marked' one. That very moment, she penetrated Shridatta's heart, as if passing through the openings left by the expansion of his eye. His breath caught; his chest constricted. All thoughts of Pataliputra, of his lost parents, of the netherworld, vanished.
"Mṛigāṅkavatī's own gaze, indicative of the beginning of powerful, passionate love, was fixed on him. Her look went and returned, like a confidante carrying secrets between two newly acquainted souls. The connection was instantaneous, a pure, inevitable collision of two destined stars.
"Then, she entered a thicket of flowering trees, disappearing from his view. Shridatta, no longer beholding her, suddenly felt his heart become so hollow and empty that he did not know where he was or what he was doing. His powerful hands trembled.
"His ever-attentive friend, Báhushálin, who thoroughly understood the language of gestures, watched the transformation with sympathy. 'My friend,' he whispered urgently, 'I know your heart. Do not deny your passion, for it is written in your eyes. This is no ordinary attraction; this is destiny's choice. Therefore, come, let us go to that part of the garden where the King's daughter is. We are warriors, but love is the greatest conquest.'"
Chapter 17. Healing the Princess and Bimbaki's Gratitude
"Shridatta, driven by a new, irresistible urgency, immediately consented," Sangataka described. "He went near the princess, accompanied by Báhushálin, his friend serving as his silent, strategic wingman. He approached the thicket where she lingered, hoping for another glance, another silent exchange of passion.
"That very moment, the air was shattered by a cry of panic, a sound that gave great pain to the heart of Shridatta, who had just found love. 'Alas! The Princess has been bitten by a snake!'
"Mṛigāṅkavatī had been struck down, the subtle, deadly venom already beginning its cruel work. All the ladies-in-waiting dissolved into hysterics.
"Báhushálin, ever the quick thinker and planner, saw his opportunity. He rushed to the chief chamberlain, his voice authoritative. 'Stop the panic! My friend here—the one with the powerful eyes—possesses a ring that counteracts the effects of poison, and he is also adept at powerful healing spells! Lead him to her instantly!'
"Immediately, the chamberlain came, bowed at Báhushálin's feet, and quickly led Shridatta to the princess. Mṛigāṅkavatī was lying still, her face pale, the venom close to claiming her. Shridatta, with a steady hand, placed the Poison-Destroying Ring he had obtained from the Daitya maiden onto her finger. Then, muttering his potent spells, he channeled his energy into her, and slowly, miraculously, she revived. The color returned to her lips, and the danger passed.
"All the attendants were delighted, loud in their praise of Shridatta, the savior. King Bimbaki, hearing the circumstances of his daughter's near-death and miraculous rescue, rushed to the place. Shridatta, having performed his sacred duty, returned with his friends to the house of Báhushálin, but in his haste and the drama of the moment, he forgot to take back the ring. It remained on Mṛigāṅkavatī's finger, a perfect, binding symbol of their connection.
"The delighted King Bimbaki sent gifts—gold, silks, and jewels—in great abundance. Shridatta, true to his Bráhmanical simplicity, handed all the wealth over to the father of Báhushálin. He had his reward: the passionate, grateful look of the moon-faced Princess, an image that now utterly consumed him."
Chapter 18. The Secret Plan to Elopement
"The days that followed were pure agony for Shridatta," Sangataka narrated. "He was consumed by his passion for Mṛigāṅkavatī. Thinking upon that fair one, he was so much afflicted that he could not eat, sleep, or train. His friends became utterly bewildered as to what to do with him, watching their powerful warrior reduced to a lovesick, sighing youth.
"Then, destiny, in the form of a woman, intervened. A dear friend of the princess, a beautiful and clever confidante named Bhávaniká, came to Shridatta’s residence. Her official purpose was to return the precious ring, but her real mission was to deliver a message from Mṛigāṅkavatī.
"Bhávaniká, meeting Shridatta in a private chamber, spoke directly, her eyes revealing the princess's intense devotion. 'Illustrious Sir, that friend of mine, the Princess, has made up her mind absolutely. You saved her life, but now her heart is forfeit to you. She will not be married to another. She has sworn an oath: either you must save her life by becoming her husband, or she will be married to her grave!'
"The threat of suicide was stark and powerful, driving Shridatta into immediate action. He, Báhushálin, and the other friends quickly put their heads together. A desperate situation demanded a desperate solution: they must carry off the princess secretly by stratagem.
"The plan was forged with the speed and precision of a military operation. They would escape Ujjayiní and go unperceived to the distant, safe city of Mathurá to live there, beyond the reach of King Bimbaki’s wrath. The plan was thoroughly talked over and finalized, with each conspirator agreeing to their critical role. Bhávaniká, having fulfilled her duty and sealed their resolve, then departed, ready to play her part."
Chapter 19. The Deception and the Princess's Escape to Mathurá
"The plan was put into effect instantly," Sangataka said, the excitement of the conspiracy coloring his voice. "The following day, Báhushálin, accompanied by three of the other friends, departed openly for Mathurá on the plausible pretext of large-scale trafficking and trading. As he went, he posted in concealment a chain of swift horses at intervals along the main road, ready for the high-speed conveyance of the Princess.
"That evening, Shridatta, with the help of a local contact, brought a drunken woman and her daughter into the palace grounds, having made them both completely intoxicated with powerful spirits. They were meant to serve as unwitting, tragic decoys.
"The time for action arrived. Bhávaniká, the Princess's devoted friend, set fire to the palace on the pretense of 'lighting up the palace' for a late celebration. The alarm was instantly raised; smoke and flames billowed into the night sky. In the chaos, Bhávaniká secretly, expertly, conveyed the Princess out of the palace, leading her through a hidden exit.
"That moment, Shridatta, who was waiting outside in the designated rendezvous point, received his beloved. He held her hand tightly for a brief second—the touch confirming their shared fate—and then immediately sent her on, in a swift carriage, toward Mathurá, to follow Báhushálin who had started that morning. Shridatta directed two of his friends to attend to the Princess and to accompany Bhávaniká on the dangerous journey.
"The deception was complete and horrific. The drunken woman and her daughter were burnt in the palace fire, and in the ensuing confusion, the people of Ujjayiní supposed that the Princess Mṛigāṅkavatī had been tragically burnt with her companion. Shridatta, the master of his own game, took care to show himself publicly in the morning, acting normally in the city, confirming his presence to dispel any suspicion.
"He waited a full day. On the second night, securing his safety, he took with him his sword Mṛigáṅka and, driven by his consuming love, started to follow his beloved, who had set out before him."
Chapter 20. Shridatta's Journey and the Attack in the Vindhya Forest
"Shridatta rode through the night, his heart consumed by his eager desire to reach Mṛigāṅkavatī," Sangataka recounted. "In his eagerness, he accomplished a great distance, using the swift horses his friends had posted along the road. He felt a joyous certainty; his destiny as a king and a husband was finally within reach.
"By the time the morning watch had passed, and the sun was rising high, he reached the dark, treacherous expanse of the Vindhya forest, a place notorious for its dangers.
"As he plunged deeper into the woods, the omens turned dark. First, he beheld unlucky omens—the screech of night birds, the sudden, inexplicable snap of branches, the silence of the day. A cold dread replaced his initial joy.
"Then, the omens were replaced by a sight of crushing reality. He saw all those friends of his who had traveled with the princess—including the loyal Bhávaniká—lying in the road, their bodies still, gashed with grievous wounds. They had been attacked.
"Shridatta, instantly distracted, jumped off his horse, rushing toward them.
"'Brothers! What disaster has befallen you?' he cried, his voice frantic.
"His friends, barely conscious, forced themselves to speak. 'A large troop of horsemen, brigands, set upon us, my friend. We were robbed of our jewels and our horses, and then reduced to this state. But listen! The worst... one of the horsemen, their leader, threw the terrified Princess Mṛigāṅkavatī onto his horse and carried her off! We fought to our last breath, but they were too many.'
"The wounded friends urged him, 'Go! Before she has been carried to a great distance, follow that direction! Do not remain near us, Shridatta! She is certainly of more importance than we! Go, save your Queen!'
"Being urged on with these desperate words by his loyal companions, Shridatta, his heart now a maelstrom of fear and vengeful rage, rapidly followed the trail of the missing Princess. He gave them a final, agonizing look—a promise of return and vengeance—and spurred his horse into a desperate gallop."
Chapter 21. Vengeance and the Rescue of Mṛigāṅkavatī
"Shridatta chased the brigands with the focused fury of a man who has lost everything and is on the verge of losing the one thing that matters," Sangataka described. "He rode for what felt like an eternity, but his speed and determination allowed him to catch up with the troop of cavalry.
"He saw them clearly: a large, disorganized group of ruthless men, and in the middle of them, a young man of the warrior caste, clearly their arrogant leader. And on the back of his horse, held fast by the leader, was the distraught, weeping Princess Mṛigāṅkavatī.
"Shridatta slowly approached the young warrior. He controlled his rage, attempting diplomacy first. 'Warrior, release the woman! She is my wife. You have taken my jewels, but her person is sacred. Release her, and I will let you go in peace!'
"The young warrior merely sneered, his eyes full of contempt for the lone, dusty rider. 'She is mine now, fool! And you shall join the carrion birds!'
"That was enough. When soft words would not suffice, Shridatta acted with savage, decisive force. Before the brigand leader could draw his own sword, Shridatta reached out, seized him, and with a terrible, powerful blow of his foot, hurled the man from his horse, dashing him to pieces on a nearby rock. The brigand was instantly slain.
"Shridatta then mounted the dead man's horse and drew the great Mṛigáṅka Sword. The remaining horsemen, enraged by the death of their leader, charged him in a wild, confused wave. Shridatta fought like a man possessed, cutting down a great number of the brigands who charged him.
"Soon, those who remained alive saw that the hero's might was more than human. His skill and ferocity were terrifying. They fled away in terror, leaving their spoils and their dead behind. Shridatta had won the battle. He mounted his new horse, the Princess Mṛigāṅkavatī clinging desperately to him, and set out to find his wounded friends."
Chapter 22. Lost in the Forest and the Loss of Mṛigāṅkavatī
"Victory in battle brought no lasting peace," Sangataka said gravely. "The terrible cost of the fight soon became apparent. After they had gone only a little way, the horse—which had carried the brigand leader and then fought fiercely against his own men—began to falter. It had been severely wounded in the fight. Shridatta and his wife quickly got off, and soon after, the magnificent beast fell down and died.
"They were now on foot, deep in the dark, silent heart of the Vindhya forest. Mṛigāṅkavatī, exhausted from fear, exertion, and the recent trauma, was overcome by a profound thirst. Her lips were cracked, and her strength was gone.
"'My love, I cannot go on,' she whispered, collapsing against a large tree trunk. 'Water, Shridatta, please. My throat burns.'
"Shridatta, desperate, left his beloved Princess there, carefully concealed beneath the shade of the tree. He promised to return swiftly. He roamed a long distance, hither and thither, desperately searching for any stream or spring.
"He searched and searched, but the forest was unforgiving. While he was looking for water, the sun dipped below the jagged horizon, and the swift tropical night descended, plunging the forest into impenetrable darkness.
"Shridatta found water—a small, hidden spring—but in his frantic searching, he had lost his way. The forest paths, invisible in the gloom, had betrayed him. He spent that horrifying night in the wood, roaming about, moaning aloud like a Chakraváka bird separated from its mate, calling Mṛigāṅkavatī's name into the darkness.
"In the morning, exhausted and tormented, he finally managed to find his way back to the familiar landmarks of his battle: the rock where the brigand leader died, and the carcass of the horse.
"But nowhere there did he behold his beloved Princess. She was gone. The only trace of her presence was the memory of her whispered plea for water. Shridatta, in utter distraction and despair, was now completely alone. He placed his sword Mṛigáṅka on the ground beside the dead horse, climbed to the top of a tall, thick tree, and desperately cast his eye in all directions for her, searching for any sign of her fate."
Chapter 23. The Śavara Chieftain's Deception and the Loss of the Sword
"Perched high above the canopy, Shridatta scanned the dense, green vastness of the Vindhya. He saw nothing," Sangataka narrated. "He descended, his heart a lump of cold lead. He returned to the base of the tree. The weight of his despair was immense.
"That very moment, a certain Śavara chieftain, a formidable tribal leader of the forest, passed that way, leading a small party of his men. The chieftain's eyes, sharp and predatory, immediately spotted the magnificent, luminous sword placed casually at the foot of the tree. The sword Mṛigáṅka was a treasure beyond measure.
"Beholding the Śavara chieftain, Shridatta came down from the top of the tree. In great grief, he approached the chieftain, ignoring the sword for a moment, and begged for news of his lost, gazelle-eyed lady.
"The Śavara chieftain, already holding the priceless sword, looked at Shridatta with shrewd calculation. 'Sir, what is your name?'
"'I am Shridatta,' the hero replied, his voice heavy with self-pity. 'I am that unfortunate man.'
"The Śavara chieftain put on a mask of false sympathy. 'We may know something. Leave this place and come to my village, which is near. I have no doubt the woman you seek has gone there, perhaps taken by my own men who did not recognize her royalty. Rest assured, I shall come there, and I promise to return you this magnificent sword.'
"The chieftain pressed the valuable blade to his chest as if to protect it. Shridatta was physically and emotionally shattered. The chieftain's offer was the only glimmer of hope in the overwhelming darkness. He was himself all eagerness. Trusting the chieftain's word and desperate for any news of Mṛigāṅkavatī, Shridatta walked, exhausted, to that village with the chieftain’s men, leaving the chieftain to follow with the sword."
Chapter 24. Imprisonment and the Maid Mochaniká's Offer
"The Śavara village was rough and unsettling, deep within the wild jungle. When they reached the house of the chief of the village, the men told the exhausted Shridatta, 'Sleep off your fatigue. The chief will be along soon with your sword.' Shridatta, totally consumed by his need for rest and his hope for news of Mṛigāṅkavatī, fell asleep in an instant.
"When he woke up, the terrifying truth was revealed. He saw his two feet fastened with heavy iron fetters, like the two futile efforts he had made—one to keep his beloved, the other to save her—both of which had failed to reach their object. He had been captured. The chieftain was a common brigand who had simply lured him in for ransom or, worse, ritual.
"Shridatta remained there, weeping not for himself, but for his darling—a woman who, like the fleeting course of destiny, had for a moment brought him joy, and the next moment had blasted his hopes, leaving him in chains.
"One day, a kind, older serving maid of the chieftain's house, named Mochaniká, came to him secretly. She spoke in hushed, urgent tones.
"'Illustrious Sir, listen to me,' she whispered, fear in her eyes. 'Unwittingly, you have come hither to your death. The Śavara chieftain, Śríchaṇḍa, has gone away to accomplish certain weighty affairs. When he returns, he will not ransom you; he will offer you to the Goddess Chaṇḍiká in sacrifice!'
"'For that objective, he decoyed you here by stratagem from the slope of the Vindhya hill and immediately threw you into these chains. It is precisely because you are intended to be offered as a victim to the Goddess that you are continually served with the best garments and food—to fatten the offering!'
"Shridatta’s fear was eclipsed by a fierce resolve to survive. 'Is there no escape, good woman? I am a hero!'
"'I know of only one expedient for delivering you, if you agree to it,' Mochaniká said, her eyes darting nervously. 'This Śavara chieftain has a daughter, my friend, named Sundarí. She saw you when you first arrived, and she is now becoming exceedingly love-sick for you. Marry her! Then you will obtain deliverance. Her love is your only key to freedom.'"
Chapter 25. Marriage to Sundarī and Escape from the Śavara Village
"Shridatta, faced with the gruesome prospect of being offered as a sacrificial victim to the Goddess Chaṇḍiká, made the hard, pragmatic choice," Sangataka continued. "Survival and the quest for Mṛigāṅkavatī demanded he take this bitter route. He consented, desiring only to be set at liberty.
"Mochaniká arranged the clandestine meetings. Shridatta spoke to Sundarí, the chieftain's beautiful, smitten daughter. He was forced to woo her with half-truths and promises, and secretly, he made Sundarí his wife by the Gándharva form of marriage—a union based on mutual consent, performed in secrecy.
"Every night, Sundarí, blinded by her deep affection, removed his heavy iron chains, allowing him freedom of movement within the chieftain's great house, only to fasten them again before dawn. They lived in a strange, tense happiness, the shadow of the chieftain's impending return always present.
"In a short time, Sundarí became pregnant—the concrete proof of their hasty, secret union.
"Her mother, the chieftain's wife, learned the whole story from the anxious mouth of Mochaniká. The mother's heart was immediately moved by love for her new son-in-law, Shridatta, and pity for her daughter's condition.
"She went to Shridatta and spoke to him in a voice thick with maternal concern. 'My son, Śríchaṇḍa, the father of Sundarí, is a wrathful, cruel man. He will show thee no mercy when he learns you are not a sacrifice but his son-in-law. You must depart now, immediately! But you must not forget Sundarí, your wife, and the child of your loins!'
"When his mother-in-law had said this, she personally took the massive key and set him free, instructing her household to remain silent. Shridatta embraced Sundarí, promising to return one day when he was a king. He departed, but not before telling Sundarí that the sword Mṛigáṅka, which was in her father's possession, truly belonged to himself, and instructing her to protect it and keep it safe for his return."
Chapter 26. Search for Mṛigāṅkavatī and the Hunter's Information
"Once again a free man, Shridatta, full of anxious energy and hope, re-entered that same familiar, terrifying forest, the crucible of his suffering," Sangataka said. "His goal was singular: to search again for the faintest traces of Mṛigāṅkavatī.
"He was now armed only with the memory of the Mṛigáṅka Sword and the protective Ring, which he still wore. As he walked, his spirits were lifted by an auspicious omen—a sign from the Gods that his long separation was nearing its end. He returned to that exact spot, which was easy to recognize by the remains of the dead horse, where his wife had vanished.
"And there, he saw near him a hunter, a rugged man of the woods, coming toward him. Shridatta, his voice desperate and hopeful, immediately asked the hunter for news of the gazelle-eyed lady.
"The hunter stopped, looking at the handsome, weary stranger with sudden recognition. 'Are you, by chance, Shridatta?' he asked.
"The hero sighed, a long, weary sound. 'I am. I am that unfortunate man.'
"The hunter smiled, a genuine, warm smile. 'Then listen, friend, for I have been waiting for this very chance to tell you! I saw that wife of yours wandering hither and thither, lamenting your absence. Her grief was so profound it touched my soul. I asked her her story, and I consoled her. Moved with compassion, I took her out of this wild wood to my own simple village. But when I saw the rough young Pulindas there, I was afraid for her safety.'
"The hunter lowered his voice. 'So, I took her to a safe village named Nágasthala, which is near the great city of Mathurá. And there, I placed her in the reliable house of an old, wise Bráhman named Viśvadatta, commending her with all due respect to his care. I learned your name from her lips. I came here solely to wait and search for you, to guide you. Therefore, you had better go quickly to Nágasthala to search for her! The journey is long, but your Queen awaits!'
"When the hunter had told him this incredible news, Shridatta's despair dissolved into delirious hope. He quickly set out, not resting, not even thanking the hunter properly, his mind focused only on Nágasthala."
Chapter 27. Arrival at Nágasthala and the Minister's Care
"Propelled by hope, Shridatta walked relentlessly for two days," Sangataka narrated. "He reached the humble, peaceful village of Nágasthala in the evening of the second day, utterly exhausted but unwilling to stop.
"He immediately sought out the house of the revered Bráhman, Viśvadatta. He entered the house, his eyes wide, and when he saw the old man, Shridatta spoke urgently, before even offering a proper greeting.
"'Venerable Sir, I am Shridatta! Give me my wife, who was placed here in your care by the compassionate hunter! I have traveled a long, hard road to claim her!'
"Viśvadatta, a man of profound wisdom and calm demeanor, looked at the travel-stained, powerful young man. He answered him with a gentle, regretful sigh. 'Young man, I am sorry. Listen to my explanation, and do not fear. I have a very dear friend in the great city of Mathurá—a Bráhman, a spiritual preceptor, and the powerful chief minister of the King of Mathurá, Śúrasena.
"'This village, Nágasthala, is an out-of-the-way place, my son, and would not afford sufficient protection for a princess of her beauty and status. Her safety was paramount. So, with her consent and my deep concern, I placed your wife in his care in Mathurá,' Viśvadatta explained. 'She is safe, well-protected, and treated with the reverence she deserves. Go to that city tomorrow morning, but today, you are a guest in my humble home. Rest here. You are too weary for another step.'
"When Viśvadatta said this, Shridatta, finally admitting his exhaustion, spent that night there. He was relieved that Mṛigāṅkavatī was safe and under the protection of a high minister, but frustrated by this final delay. The next morning, he set off again, his heart filled with renewed determination, and he reached the mighty city of Mathurá on the evening of the second day."
Chapter 28. Arrest for Theft in Mathurá
"The city of Mathurá, the city of Krishna, was a hub of commerce and power, a stark contrast to the quiet of Nágasthala and the wilderness of the Vindhya," Sangataka continued. "Shridatta, weary and dusty with the long journey, wisely decided to cleanse himself before seeking out the minister and his beloved. He bathed just outside the city in the pellucid water of a lake.
"As he swam, the clear water was too shallow in a certain spot. He waded out and, by chance, in the middle of the lake, he drew out a garment—a piece of fine cloth—placed there by some careless person. He retrieved it, not suspecting any harm, thinking it a discarded shawl.
"However, in one corner of the garment, which had been knotted up for concealment, a priceless necklace was hidden—stolen loot from a recent robbery. Shridatta, utterly focused on his final goal, took that garment and, in his eagerness to meet his wife, did not notice the necklace concealed within the knot.
"He entered the city of Mathurá, the wet garment over his shoulder, the necklace still hidden inside.
"The moment he stepped into the bustling streets, he was spotted by the keen-eyed city police. They immediately recognized the specific garment as a piece of evidence. They rushed him, and finding the stolen necklace, they arrested Shridatta instantly as a common thief.
"The hero, the conqueror of gods and demons, the son of destiny, was dragged off and brought before the chief magistrate, exactly as he was found, with the stolen garment in his possession. The chief magistrate, seeing the apparent proof of the crime, handed him up to King Śúrasena.
"The King, swift in his justice, listened to the brief, damming report. He looked at the powerful, silent man, holding the evidence of the crime, and ordered him to be put to death by immediate execution, an anonymous criminal swallowed by the vast city's justice system."
Chapter 29. Mṛigāṅkavatī Recognizes and Saves Her Husband
"The execution was set for dawn," Sangataka announced. "As Shridatta was being led off to the place of execution, the drum was beaten loudly behind him, announcing the sentence to the populace. The crowd followed the procession—a common, tragic spectacle in the city.
"In the window of the chief minister's grand house, Mṛigāṅkavatī was watching the mournful procession. She was pale, worried, her heart heavy with anxiety for her long-lost husband.
"She glanced at the condemned man, and her heart nearly stopped. The hero, though dressed in a criminal’s rags and surrounded by executioners, was unmistakably him. The power in his posture, the width of his shoulders, the determined set of his jaw—it could only be Shridatta.
"She went in a state of the utmost, frantic distraction to the chief minister, in whose house she was residing. She seized his arm, her eyes wide with terror and certainty.
"'My Lord! My husband! Look yonder!' she cried, pointing wildly at the condemned man. 'That is my husband! He is being led off to execution! You must save him! He is no thief, but a great hero!'
"The minister was a man of action and great compassion. He immediately recognized the profound devotion and certainty in the Princess's voice. He knew her character and believed her instantly. He hurried out, using his immense authority, and ordered the executioners to desist.
"By making a powerful, urgent representation to the King—explaining the nature of his houseguest, the princess, and the likelihood of a mistake—the minister got Shridatta pardoned, his sentence revoked. The executioners unbound the hero and brought him, not to the dungeons, but to the minister's house, to face the truth of the accusation and the joy of a profound reunion."
Chapter 30. Reunion with Uncle Vigatabhaya and Marriage to Mṛigāṅkavatī
"The drama of Shridatta's capture was eclipsed by the sheer wonder of his deliverance," Sangataka described. "When Shridatta reached the minister's house, he was led into the inner courtyard. There, standing tall and serene, was the chief minister himself.
"Shridatta looked at the noble, familiar face, and a sudden, impossible recognition dawned on him. He fell instantly to the minister's feet, weeping with relief and astonishment, exclaiming, 'What! Is this not my Uncle Vigatabhaya?! The one who long ago went to a foreign country, and whom I now by good luck find established in the position of a minister?'
"The minister, now confirming his suspicion about the powerful youth, recognized to his astonishment Shridatta as his long-lost brother's son. He lifted the hero, embracing him in a powerful, emotional, silent embrace—the reunion of the two surviving members of their family.
"After the tears subsided, Vigatabhaya questioned his nephew about all his impossible adventures and his terrible family tragedy. Shridatta related his whole history, beginning with the execution of his father and the flight from Vikramashakti.
"Vigatabhaya wept bitterly for his brother Kalanemi and his wife. Then, he took his nephew aside and said to him in private, his voice low and conspiratorial, 'Do not despond, my son. Though I have no son of my own, my long pilgrimage was not in vain. I once brought a powerful female Yaksha into subjection by means of my magic. She gave me immense wealth: five thousand horses and seventy millions of gold pieces. All that wealth is now at your disposal. You are my heir!'
"After telling him this, his wealthy, powerful uncle brought him his beloved, Mṛigāṅkavatī. Shridatta, having obtained both wealth and the woman of his destiny, married her on the spot with all the proper rites. He remained there in immense joy, united with that beloved Mṛigāṅkavatī, as a bed of white lotuses is united with the night. But even when his happiness was at its full, anxiety for his loyal friends, Báhushálin and his companions, who lay wounded in the Vindhya forest, clouded his heart, as a spot of darkness does the full moon."
Chapter 31. A New Plan: Marrying the King's Daughter
"Shridatta's power and influence in Mathurá grew exponentially," Sangataka narrated. "He was the nephew and heir of the Chief Minister, and a renowned hero. His thoughts soon returned to his higher destiny: the throne prophesied by the Goddess of Fortune, and the vengeance owed to Vikramashakti.
"One day, his uncle, Vigatabhaya, approached him with a calculated plan, his voice low and urgent. 'My son, listen carefully. King Śúrasena, my master, has a maiden daughter of exquisite beauty. In accordance with his orders, I have to take her to the land of Avanti to give her away in marriage to a lesser king. I despise this match.'
"Vigatabhaya smiled, a rare, cunning expression. 'So, I have conceived a strategy. I will take her away on that pretext—a royal procession with a large, armed retinue. But I will not take her to Avanti. I will take her on the road and marry her to you!'
"Shridatta was shocked. 'Uncle! Two wives? And the risk of betraying the King?'
"'The risk is necessary,' Vigatabhaya insisted. 'This is the fastest path to power. You are destined to be a king. When you have got possession of the force that follows her—the vast wedding dowry and the accompanying army—and join it with mine already at your disposal, you will have a truly formidable host. You will soon gain the kingdom that was promised to you by the Goddess Śrí. Your vengeance will be swift and total.'
"Shridatta, seeing the wisdom, the power, and the opportunity for immediate sovereignty, agreed to his uncle's bold, calculated plan. He had suffered enough; it was time to claim his destiny.
"Having resolved on this, and having taken the maiden—the King's daughter—Shridatta and his powerful uncle set out with a vast army and a multitude of attendants, ostensibly for the long journey to the distant land of Avanti."
Chapter 32. Ambush by Brigands and Capture in the Vindhya Forest
"The royal procession, magnificent and heavily armed, soon came to the desolate, familiar heart of the Vindhya forest," Sangataka continued, the scene shifting again to the place of constant peril. "They were barely into the trees, before they were even aware of the danger, when they were attacked.
"A large, vicious army of brigands set upon them, showering them with arrows from the shadows. The attack was sudden, overwhelming, and brutal. These were not the common robbers Shridatta had faced before, but a well-organized, massive force.
"The brigands successfully routed Shridatta's force, which broke apart in confusion. They seized all the immense wealth of the dowry and the treasury. Shridatta himself fought with the Mṛigáṅka Sword, but he was surrounded, overpowered, and fell, fainting from a massive wound.
"The brigands did not kill him. They bound the unconscious Shridatta and carried him off to their village—the same village, it turned out, ruled by the Śavara chieftain Śríchaṇḍa's family!
"They took the hero to the awful, dark temple of Durgá, in order to offer him up in sacrifice, just as had been planned before. They sounded their gongs, loud and chilling, as if summoning Death itself to witness the offering. The fate Shridatta had once escaped by marriage had returned for him."
Chapter 33. Sacrifice Attempt and Rescue by Sundarī
"The temple was a scene of dark, ritualistic fervor. Shridatta was laid upon the sacrificial stone, his hands and feet bound, his eyes barely open. The chanting began, the knife was sharpened, and the moment of his execution was imminent," Sangataka narrated.
"Just then, a commotion erupted at the back of the temple. A woman entered, her face commanding, followed by a devoted retinue. This was Sundarí, the chieftain's daughter, Shridatta's secret wife. She had come with her young son—Shridatta’s son—to visit the shrine of the Goddess, not knowing what she would find.
"She saw the victim on the altar, the handsome man bound for sacrifice. She stared—and recognized him. Her heart leaped with simultaneous joy and terror. The father of her child, the hero she loved, was about to be murdered!
"Full of righteous fury, she ordered the brigands, who were astonished to see the chieftain's daughter interrupting the sacred ritual, to stand aside. She spoke with the authority of the chieftain’s heiress.
"'Stop this madness! This man is not a sacrifice! He is the husband of your chief's daughter! Unbind him!'
"The brigands, confused and unwilling to disobey the new heir, hesitated but ultimately obeyed. Sundarí rushed to the stone, untied Shridatta herself, and, supporting his wounded, fainting body, led him away from the altar and into her own palace.
"The sacrifice was averted. Immediately, Shridatta, by the right of his marriage to Sundarí, and because her father had recently gone to heaven leaving no son, obtained the sovereignty of that village! He was instantly recognized as the new chief and ruler of the brigands. His destiny, once again, was fulfilled in the most unexpected way—he had become a king, the ruler of a fearsome tribal army."
Chapter 34. Shridatta Becomes King and Gathers Allies
"Shridatta's good fortune, secured by the loyalty of Sundarí, now spun the wheel of fate rapidly in his favor," Sangataka said. "As the new chieftain and ruler of the brigands' domain, his first acts were to consolidate his immediate losses.
"First, he secured his status, making peace with his new people. Then, he secured his possessions. His beautiful wife, Sundarí, triumphantly restored his most prized possession: the sword Mṛigáṅka, which her father had left in safe-keeping, not daring to use it for fear of its supernatural power.
"Next, Shridatta sent his new, fearsome brigand army into the surrounding forest to search and rescue. They quickly recovered his uncle, Vigatabhaya, and all his followers who had been overpowered and scattered by the initial attack. He had lost nothing, but gained everything: an army, a kingdom, a second queen, and his great sword.
"While he was still in that fortress town, now established as King, he honored his promise to his uncle and his destiny. He formally sent for the daughter of Śúrasena, the King of Mathurá, and married her there, adding the Mathurá royal alliance and all its wealth to his own growing power base.
"His destiny was now unstoppable. From that strategically powerful location, he sent ambassadors to his two royal fathers-in-law: King Bimbaki, the father of Mṛigāṅkavatī, and King Śúrasena, the father of his new Queen.
"The messages were simple: 'I am Shridatta, your son-in-law, and I am now a King. Join me in my cause, or stand against my destiny.'"
Chapter 35. The Final Vengeance and Conquest
"The response from the royal fathers-in-law was swift and predictable," Sangataka concluded in the main story. "Both kings were very fond of their daughters and, seeing that Shridatta was now a formidable and legitimate ruler, they gladly recognized him as a connection and an ally. They came to him, not in defiance, but in alliance, accompanied by the whole of their royal armies and their immense resources.
"At the same time, his old friends, Báhushálin and the others, who had been separated from him and left wounded in the Vindhya forest, finally heard the incredible news of Shridatta's rise. Their wounds healed, and their spirits restored, they came immediately to join their friend, the King. Shridatta was now surrounded by a coalition of the most powerful and loyal forces imaginable: three royal armies, a dedicated tribal horde, a host of loyal, heroic friends, and the power of the Mṛigáṅka Sword.
"The time for vengeance had arrived. Shridatta, the hero, marched with his newly united forces back toward Pataliputra, the capital of his enemy. His wrath was a terrible fire, his target the tyrant who had murdered his parents and exiled his friends. He made that cruel Vikramaśakti—the usurper who had put his father to death—a burnt-offering in the flame of his wrath. The battle was a swift, decisive rout; justice was finally served.
"Shridatta, the Bráhman hero, having gained dominion over the sea-encircled earth and deliverance from the long, calamitous sea of separation, joyed in the society of Mṛigāṅkavatī, his true Queen. Even so, my King," Sangataka emphasized, looking directly at Sahasranika, "do men of firm resolution cross the calamitous sea of separation and obtain prosperity."
Chapter 36. The King's Journey to the Hermitage
"The story ended, King Sahasranika was momentarily silent, the vivid narrative of Shridatta's tribulations and triumphs ringing in his ears," Sangataka noted. "He had seen his own fate reflected in the hero's struggle. The tale was a powerful balm to his spirit. Though longing fiercely for the sight of his own beloved Queen, Mrigavati, the King managed to get through that final, difficult night on the journey, his despair tempered by the memory of Shridatta's ultimate victory.
"The next morning, engrossed with his own urgent desire, Sahasranika, now resolute, set out with a final surge of energy to meet his darling. He traveled with renewed vigor, his destination the distant, peaceful hermitage of the sage Jamadagni.
"In a few short, desperate days, he finally reached that holy place, a sanctuary where even the most wanton deer laid aside their wildness, a place of profound tranquility. The sight of the sacred hermitage was itself a soothing presence after the brutality of the world. The journey was at an end; the moment of his long-promised union was upon him."
Chapter 37. The End of the Curse and Reunion with Mṛigāvatī and Udayana
"King Sahasranika entered the holy enclosure with profound respect," Sangataka narrated. "There, he beheld with reverence the sage Jamadagni, a being of great spiritual power, whose very sight was sanctifying, like the incarnate form of penance. The sage received the King hospitably, offering him shelter and peace after his long ordeal.
"The sage, knowing the moment was ordained by the Gods, smiled gently. He then handed over to the King his Queen, Mṛigāvatī, regained by the King after long, painful separation. But he did not come alone. With her was his son, Udayana, the fruit of their fated union, who the King beheld for the very first time—Mṛigāvatī, like tranquility itself, accompanied with boundless joy. The King’s curse was finally, utterly, broken.
"The sight which the husband and wife obtained of one another, now that the curse had ceased, was a divine vision. Their eyes, filled instantly with a torrent of tears of joy, rained, as it were, nectar into their souls. They were speechless, communicating their profound love and relief in the silence of their tears.
"The King embraced his son, Udayana, whom he had never met, the sight of whom immediately filled his heart. He could with difficulty let the boy go, as the child was, so to speak, riveted to his body by his own hairs that stood erect from joy and emotion. The years of separation, the curse, and the sorrow were finally washed away in that glorious, emotional reunion."
Chapter 38. Return to Kauśāmbī and the Crown Prince Udayana
"The reunion was complete; the King’s destiny fulfilled," Sangataka concluded. "King Sahasranika, having paid his final respects, took his Queen Mṛigāvatī and his son Udayana, and bidding a heartfelt adieu to the great sage Jamadagni, set out from that tranquil hermitage for his own magnificent city. Even the gentle deer of the hermitage followed him as far as the border of the forest, their eyes tearful, lamenting the departure of the saintly Queen and her son.
"The King beguiled the long journey home by listening to the adventures of his beloved wife during the period of separation and by relating his own agonies and the solace he found in stories.
"At length, he reached the royal city of Kauśāmbī, which had prepared for his magnificent return. Triumphal arches were erected, banners displayed from every tower, and the citizens lined the streets in a joyous, overwhelming welcome.
"He entered that city in company with his wife and child, being, so to speak, devoured by the eyes of the citizens, whose lashes were elevated in sheer, tearful admiration.
"The King's first act of policy, incited by his son's noble qualities and the urgency of his own aging, was to immediately appoint his son Udayana Crown-Prince."
Chapter 39. Ascension to the Himálaya and the Final Journey
"The Gods themselves approved of Udayana's appointment. King Sahasranika assigned to his young son a council of the wisest, most excellent ministers: Vasantaka, Rumaṇvat, and Yaugandharāyaṇa, men whose counsel was as valuable as gold.
"The moment Udayana was invested as Crown-Prince, a rain of flowers fell from the sky, and a celestial voice was heard by all, booming across the heavens: 'By the help of these excellent ministers, the Prince Udayana shall obtain dominion over the whole earth!' The prophecy was clear and undeniable.
"Then, King Sahasranika, having witnessed the fulfillment of his life's promise, devolved upon his son the entire cares of the empire. He spent many joyful years in the society of Mṛigāvatī, savoring the long-desired pleasures of the world, his curse finally lifted, his heart finally at peace.
"But even earthly desires are mortal. At last, the desire of earthly enjoyment, beholding suddenly that old age, the harbinger of composure, had reached the root of the King’s ear, became enraged and fled far from him. He knew his time for worldly action was over.
"That great King Sahasranika established firmly on his throne his excellent son Udayana, whom the subjects loved so well, to ensure the world's continued prosperity. Then, accompanied by his faithful ministers and his beloved wife, Mṛigāvatī, he left the mortal world behind, ascending the sacred Himálaya to prepare for the final great journey, attaining liberation and immortality, his life a testament to the power of enduring love and destiny."
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