228. Katha Sarit Sagara : Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII: The Lord of Vatsa’s Homecoming

1. The King of Vatsa's Royal Return to Kauśámbí

The village of Lavanaka, once a humble hiding place, now pulsed with the energy of a victorious army. For King Udayana, the Lord of Vatsa, the moment of return had arrived. He would no longer be a king in exile; he would be the conqueror restored. On this auspicious morning, the King, his eyes burning with the fire of destiny, gave the command. He set out from Lavanaka for Kauśámbí, his ancient, rightful capital, accompanied by his two beloved queens and a loyal phalanx of ministers. The road ahead was long, but Udayana felt the pull of the stone and soil of his home.

2. A Magnificent Procession

As the immense royal party advanced, the very earth seemed to shake. The shouts of Udayana’s forces were deafening, a roar of collective triumph that broke forth from thousands of throats, filling the plains like the waters of the ocean overflowing out of due time. Udayana rode upon his colossal elephant, a vision of majesty. To behold the King was to imagine a myth: if the Sun were to journey in the heaven, accompanied by the great Eastern Mountain itself, that would furnish an image of the King advancing on his mighty mount.

3. Queens in the Procession

Above the King, a pristine white umbrella swayed, making him appear as if he were waited upon by the Moon, a Moon delighted at having outdone the splendour of the Sun. While he towered resplendent above them all, the chiefs of his army circled him like the planets in their orbits around the unmoving Polar Star. Behind him, mounted on a majestic she-elephant, rode Vasavadatta and Padmavati. These two queens, symbols of political alliance and deep affection, shone like the Earth-Goddess, Prithvi, and the Goddess of Fortune, Shri, accompanying the King in visible, loving shape. The earth beneath them, dinted with the sharp edges of the hoofs of the prancing steeds, seemed to bear the prints of loving nails, as if it had been passionately enjoyed by the King.

4. Arrival and Celebration in Kauśámbí

Progressing in this glorious, unstoppable style, the King of Vatsa was continually praised by his minstrels, who sang tales of his prowess and his destiny. After days of travel, they reached the mighty gates of Kauśámbí, where the people, utterly consumed by joy, had declared a great holiday.

5. The City Personified

The city was breathtaking, a spectacle of celebration entirely transformed for her returned lord. Kauśámbí was resplendent, an eager bride whose master had returned from sojourning abroad. She was clothed in the red silk of banners fluttering from every spire. The numerous round windows were her expanded eyes, wide with adoration. The full, water-filled pitchers placed in the space in front of the gates were her two swelling breasts, symbols of abundance and nurturing welcome. The joyous shouts of the crowd that echoed from every street were her cheerful conversation, and the white, dazzling palace walls were her pure smile.

6. The Town Ladies' Delight

Accompanied by his two queens, the King entered the inner city. The ladies of the town were overcome with delight at beholding him—their hero, their protector. The heaven itself seemed to fill with the hundreds of faces of fair ones, standing precariously on the charming palaces. They appeared like the beautiful soldiers of the Moon, who had been surpassed in beauty by the faces of the queens, and had come to pay their respects to the true royalty of the earth.

7. Women's Reactions to the King and Queens

Other women, established at the windows, watched with unwinking eyes, seeming like heavenly nymphs in aerial chariots who had descended to witness the historic event out of sheer curiosity. Still others, with their long-lashed eyes closely applied to the lattice of the windows, made, so to speak, cages of arrows to confine the God of Love. The eager eye of one woman, so expanded with desire to behold the King, came, so to speak, to the side of her ear—an ear that did not perceive him—in order to inform it of the spectacle. The rapidly heaving breasts of another, who had run up hastily to secure a view, seemed to want to leap out of her tight bodice with the ardour of her excitement. Another’s delicate necklace was broken by her intense elation, and the scattered pearl-beads looked like glistening tear-drops of joy falling straight from her heart.

8. Reactions to Vásavadattá's Survival

A deep murmur passed through the crowd as they recognized the first queen. Some women, beholding Vasavadatta and vividly remembering the former, terrifying report of her having been burned to death, spoke with genuine anxiety. "If the fire were to do her an injury at Lavanaka," one woman whispered to her neighbor, her hand clutching her chest, "then the Sun might as well diffuse darkness over the world which is alien to his nature! The rumour must have been a cruel falsehood!"

9. Praise for the Two Queens

Another lady, beholding Padmavati, turned to her companion, her eyes bright. "I am glad to see that our Queen is not put to shame by her fellow-wife," she noted softly, "who seems, rather, like her beloved friend." The two queens smiled at each other, their visible harmony calming the fears of the public. Still, others, beholding the divine beauty of the pair, threw over them garlands of eyes expanded with joy so as to resemble blue lotuses. They murmured, "Surely Shiva and Vishnu have not beheld the beauty of these two, otherwise how could they regard with so much respect their consorts, Uma and Shri?"

10. Entry into the Palace and Celebrations

Having feasted the eyes of the entire population, the King of Vatsa, with his two queens, finally entered his own palace after performing all the necessary and auspicious ceremonies. Such as is the splendor of a lotus-pool when the wind rustles its surface, or the beauty of the sea when the full moon begins to rise, such was at that period the wonderful, overwhelming splendor of the King’s palace.

11. Presents from Feudatories

In an instant, the palace was filled with a flood of wealth. These were the presents, or upayanas, which the feudatories offered to procure good luck. They were more than mere gifts; they were omens, foreshadowing the coming in of offerings from innumerable conquered kings. The King, a master of protocol and hearts, honored the attending chiefs, and then entered the inner apartments with great festivity, at the same time finding his way to the heart of every person present.

12. The Brahman's Complaint

There, he remained between the two queens, like the God of Love between his consorts Rati and Priti, and spent the remainder of the day in drinking and other pure enjoyments. But destiny rarely allows a King to rest. The next day, when he was sitting in the hall of assembly accompanied by his ministers, a certain aged Brahman came, his face pale with sorrow and indignation, and cried out at the door: "Protection for the Brahmans, O King! Your own people are suffering! Certain wicked herdsmen have cut off my son’s foot in the forest without any reason!"

13. Seizure and Interrogation of the Herdsmen

A hush fell over the court. Udayana’s eyes, soft the day before with domestic joy, hardened into the look of a true sovereign. "This outrage will not stand!" he commanded. He immediately had two or three herdsmen seized and brought before him, and proceeded to question them. "Why would you commit such a senseless, cruel act against a non-combatant?" the King demanded.

14. The Herdsmen's Confession

The herdsmen, terrified, fell to their knees. "O King, we are merely herdsmen. We roam in the wilderness," one stammered. "But we have among us a herdsman named Devasena. He sits in a certain place in the forest on a high stone seat, and declares, 'I am your King!' He gives us orders, and not a man among us dares to disobey them."

15. The Herdsman King's Authority

The minister Rumanvan gasped. The King listened, utterly captivated by the strange tale. The herdsman continued, "Thus, O King, that herdsman rules supreme in the wood. His power is unquestioned."

16. The Punishment of the Bráhman's Son

"Now, today," the herdsman explained, tears in his eyes, "the son of this Brahman came that way. He did not do obeisance to the herdsman-king. When we, by Devasena's order, said to the boy—'Depart not without doing thy reverence'—the young fellow pushed us aside and went off laughing in spite of the admonition!"

17. Yaugandharáyaṇa's Deduction

"Then the herdsman-king commanded us to punish the contumacious boy by cutting off his foot. So we, O King, ran after him, and did the deed. What man of our humble degree is able to disobey the command of a ruler?" When the herdsmen finished, the wise Yaugandharayana, after thinking it over, smiled, an unusual, thin smile. He said to the King in private, his voice low and urgent: "Certainly that place must contain treasure, a forgotten, ancient wealth, on the strength of which a mere herdsman has such absolute, unnatural influence. Sire, let us go there at once!"

18. Discovery of the Treasure

When his minister had said this, the King, gripped by a sudden sense of destiny, made those herdsmen show him the way. Udayana went to that place in the forest with his soldiers and attendants. They found the stone seat, a simple, flat rock, and the wise minister ordered the ground beneath it to be examined. Peasants were immediately put to digging.

19. The Yaksha and the Ancestral Treasure

As the spades bit deep, the ground began to tremble violently. The soldiers drew their swords, the air charged with suspense and supernatural terror. Then, a terrifying, majestic figure, a Yaksha in stature like a mountain, rose up from beneath the earth! He spoke, his voice booming like a thousand gongs: "O King! This treasure, which I have so long guarded, belongs to thee, as having been buried by thy forefathers! Therefore, take possession of it!" After he had offered this amazing news to the King and accepted Udayana’s immediate, humble worship, the Yaksha disappeared in a puff of smoke.

20. Extraction of a Jeweled Throne

A great treasure was displayed in the excavation—piles of gold, ancient silver, and countless jewels. From the heart of the hoard was extracted a valuable throne studded with jewels, shining with an inner light. It was a clear sign: in the time of prosperity, a long series of happy and fortunate events takes place, seemingly without effort.

21. Triumph and Return to the City

The Lord of Vatsa took away the entire treasure from the spot in high glee. After ordering the herdsmen to be severely, but justly, chastised for their cruelty, the King returned to his own city in a state of elation, his purpose renewed by the discovery.

22. The Ominous Throne and Public Joy

There, the people saw that golden throne brought by the King. It was no mere piece of furniture. It seemed with the streams of rays issuing from its blood-red jewels to foretell the King’s forceful conquest of all the regions. With its pearls fixed on the end of projecting silver spikes, it seemed to show its teeth as if laughing again and again when it considered the astonishing intellect of the King’s ministers, who had discovered it through sheer deduction. The citizens expressed their joy in a charming manner, striking drums of rejoicing so that they sent forth their glad sounds into the heavens.

23. The Ministers' Rejoicing and Omen

The ministers, particularly the chief conspirator, Yaugandharayana, rejoiced exceedingly, now making certain of the King’s impending triumph. For they knew that prosperous events happening at the very commencement of an enterprise portend its final success. The sky was filled with newly erected flags resembling flashes of lightning, and the King, in a burst of generosity, rained gold on his dependants like a rain-cloud.

24. The King's Hesitation to Mount the Throne

This day of feasting and celebration having been spent, on the morrow, Yaugandharayana, ever the strategist, sought to know the true mind of the King. "O King," he said, bowing low, "ascend and adorn that great throne, which you have obtained by inheritance from your ancestors! Let the world know Vatsa’s power!" But the King did not move. He gazed at the throne, a flicker of ambition and humility in his eyes.

25. The King's Loftiness of Spirit

"No," Udayana stated firmly. "Surely it is only after conquering all the regions that I can gain glory by ascending that throne, which those famous ancestors of mine mounted after conquering the earth itself. Not till I have subdued this widely-gemmed earth, bounded by the main, will I ascend the great jeweled throne of my ancestors!" For men of high birth possess a genuine loftiness of spirit, and Udayana would not take the seat of sovereignty until he had earned it by his own hand.

26. Decision to Begin the Conquest

Yaugandharayana's heart swelled with pride for his King. He smiled broadly and said to him in private, his voice a congratulatory murmur: "Bravo, my King! That is the resolve of a true Emperor! So, let us make first an attempt to conquer the eastern region."

27. The King's Inquiry on Eastern Conquest

The King looked at his minister with an eager, sharp gaze. "I agree to begin the conquest," Udayana said, "but tell me truly, Yaugandharayana: When there are other cardinal points, all equally rich and ready for conquest, why do kings first march towards the East? Is this not merely old custom?"

28. Yaugandharáyaṇa's Rationale for the East

When Yaugandharayana heard this profound question, he launched into a detailed explanation of ancient geopolitics and divine law. "The North, O King," he instructed, "though rich, is defiled by the frequent intercourse with barbarians, who live beyond the Himalayas. The West is not honored, as it is seen as the cause of the setting of the Sun and other heavenly bodies, a symbol of decline."

29. Superiority of the Ganges Region

"And the South," the minister continued, his tone turning grave, "is seen to be neighbored by the Rakshasas and inhabited by the very God of Death, Yama. But in the eastern quarter, O King, the Sun rises, the mighty Indra presides, and towards the East flows the sacred Ganges! Therefore, the East is spiritually and politically preferred. Moreover, among the countries situated between the Vindhya and Himalaya mountains, the country laved by the waters of the Ganges is considered most excellent and auspicious."

30. Historical Precedent and the Shift to Kauśámbí

"Therefore," Yaugandharayana concluded, "monarchs who desire success march first towards the East, and dwell moreover in the land visited by the river of the gods. Your ancestors also conquered the regions by beginning with the East, and made their dwelling in Hastinapura on the banks of the Ganges. But your father, Shatanika, repaired to Kauśámbí on account of its delightful situation, seeing that empire depended upon valour, and situation had nothing to do with it."

31. The King's Emphasis on Valor

Yaugandharayana stopped speaking, expecting approval of his final, nuanced point. The King, out of his great regard for heroic exploits, seized upon this truth with passion. "It is absolutely true!" Udayana exclaimed, rising from his seat, his voice booming with conviction. "Dwelling in any prescribed country is not the cause of empire in this world, for to men of brave disposition their own valour is the only cause of success! For a brave man by himself, without any support, obtains prosper¹ity."

32. Introduction of the Tale of the Brave Man

Udayana looked at his ministers, his queens, and the assembled court, his eyes shining with the pride of a warrior ready for war. "Have you never heard," he asked, a knowing smile playing on his lips, "à propos of this supreme power of courage, the tale of the brave man?" Having said this, the Lord of Vatsa, on the eager entreaty of his ministers, again began to speak, and related in the presence of the queens the following wonderful story.

The Legend of Vidúshaka: A Tale of Valor, Love, and Celestial Destiny

1. King Ádityasena's Reign and Supremacy

In the age of great kings, there stood the city of Ujjayiní, a name spoken in hushed awe from the Himalayas to the sea. Its ruler was King Ádityasena, a man whose strength of arms was matched only by the steel of his resolve. He was a treasure-house of valor, and his sole supremacy meant his war-chariot, like the sun's own, met no obstacle.

His white, lofty umbrella, a billowing dome of gleaming silk that shone like pristine snow, cast a shadow of authority across the land. When this royal symbol illuminated the sky, all other kings, relieved of the burning pressure of ambition, lowered their own. Ádityasena was the unchallenged receptacle of all the jewels produced over the surface of the earth, as the mighty ocean is the natural receptacle of all waters. He was, quite simply, the King of Kings.

2. The Gift of Maiden Tejasvatí

One season, the King led his massive army to the gentle, verdant banks of the sacred Ganges. He was there on some mission of state, but the camp was bustling and rich with life. It was here that a certain wealthy merchant, a respected man of the country named Gunavartman, came to the royal enclosure, bringing a precious offering: a maiden who was a gem among women.

He sent a message through the royal warder, his voice thick with a mixture of pride and reverence. "This maiden, though she has blossomed in my humble home, is truly the gem of the three worlds," the message declared. "I cannot give her to any man less than the heavens, and so, I cannot give her to anyone else. Only Your Highness, the mighty Ádityasena, is fit to be the husband of such a girl. She is a bride for a sovereign, not a merchant's relative."

3. Royal Marriage and Infatuation

Gunavartman was ushered into the royal presence, and the atmosphere in the court instantly changed. When he presented his daughter, Tejasvatí, it was as if a new, pure flame had been lit in the room. Her brightness was so startling it seemed to illuminate the very quarters of the heavens, like the fierce, beautiful radiance of jewels adorning the temple of the God of Love.

King Ádityasena, the man who knew no fear in battle, was instantly enveloped in the radiance of her beauty. His mind, which had always been as hard as diamond, suddenly felt pliable, yielding. He was consumed by an agonizing, urgent fire of passion, and his powerful body began to dissolve in drops of sweat. He was a King reduced to a passionate suitor.

He accepted her at once. "She is fit for the rank of my head queen! She shall have the highest honor!" The delighted King elevated Gunavartman, making him equal to himself in royal honour. Having married his dear Tejasvatí, King Ádityasena felt all his objects in life were accomplished. He did not linger by the Ganges but returned swiftly with her to Ujjayiní.

4. Neglect of the Kingdom

Back in the sprawling palace, the once tireless King was utterly captivated. His gaze became so exclusively fixed on Tejasvatí's face that he could no longer see the serious affairs of his kingdom, however important they were. His ear, once attuned to the clash of steel and the counsel of ministers, was now, as it were, riveted to her musical discourse. It could not be pulled away by the cries of his distressed subjects, whose pleas were now but a distant, annoying murmur.

The King entered the inner apartments of his harem and seemed to vanish for a long time, never leaving the sacred enclosure of his love. His presence, the anchor of the kingdom, was gone. And thus, while the fever of love burned only for him inside, the fever of fear instantly left the hearts of his enemies outside the borders. The great wheel of the kingdom began to slow.

5. Birth of the Princess and Desire for Conquest

But destiny has its own rhythms. After some time, Queen Tejasvatí bore the King a child: a girl, a princess welcomed by all. Her exceeding beauty made the three worlds seem worthless as stubble. Her birth ignited a twin flame in the King's heart: boundless joy in his child, and a renewed, equally welcome desire for conquest.

The birth of this new light excited his joy, and the thought of conquest immediately excited his long-dormant valor. "I have rested long enough," he declared to his ministers. "It is time to remind the world who rules from Ujjayiní."

6. The King's Rash Departure for Battle

One morning, fully restored to his warrior spirit, King Ádityasena announced his departure from Ujjayiní to attack a certain chieftain who had grown contumacious during the King’s long absence.

In a powerful, loving gesture, he insisted that Queen Tejasvatí accompany him, mounted on a magnificent elephant, as if she were the very protecting goddess of the host.

The King himself mounted an admirable horse—a creature that embodied the spirit and fury of a torrent, tall as a moving mountain, with a lucky curl of hair on its breast, and the stoutest girth. It was said to have watched the mighty Garuḍa in the heavens and learned its speed. The horse lifted its head, its fearless eye seeming to measure the earth, as if thinking, “What shall be the limit of my speed?”

7. The Runaway Horse

After the King had gone a little way, he came to a wide, perfectly level piece of ground. The impulse was too great: he wanted to show off his mount's peerless speed to Tejasvatí. He struck the horse with his heel, urging it to its utmost velocity.

The horse responded with an unnatural, terrifying surge. It went off so rapidly, like an arrow impelled from a catapult, in some utterly unknown direction, that in a few moments it became completely invisible to the eyes of the King's men.

8. The Army's Return and Anxiety

The soldiers, witnessing their sovereign’s catastrophic disappearance, were instantly bewildered. Horsemen galloped out in a thousand directions, desperate to find the King, but his horse was too fast, and they could not overtake him.

The King’s ministers, fearing some devastating calamity had struck, took the only remaining certainty—the weeping queen—and returned immediately to Ujjayiní. They closed the gates, guarded the ramparts, and did their best to cheer the citizens, all while anxiously seeking any scrap of news about their vanished sovereign. Fear, thick and heavy, settled back over the city.

9. Stranded in the Vindhya Forest

Meanwhile, the horse had continued its demonic flight, carrying the King in an instant far away, deep into the impassable, terrifying forest of the Vindhya hills, a place haunted by formidable, terrible lions.

The horse finally, thankfully, came to a halt. The King dismounted, his royal composure shattered by the speed and the unknown. He was instantly distracted with bewilderment. The vast, bewildering forest made it impossible for him to know where he was, which direction he had traveled, or how to proceed.

10. Recognition of the Horse's Divinity

Seeing no logical way out of his desperate difficulties, the King paused. Then, the realization of his mount's true nature struck him. He knew this horse was no ordinary beast; he knew what the creature had been in a former birth.

He got down from his saddle, prostrated himself before the excellent horse, and addressed it with deep reverence.

“Thou art a god,” the King declared, his voice full of humility. “A creature like thee should not commit treason against his lord. I look upon thee as my only protector now. Take me from this place by a safe, pleasant path.”

11. The Divine Horse's Atonement and Guidance

When the horse heard the King's true, humble voice, it remembered its former birth. It was immediately filled with regret for its impulsive actions and the distress it had caused. Mentally, the divine horse instantly acceded to the King’s request, for excellent horses, when they are truly divine, respond to honor and not just spurring.

The King mounted again. The horse set out by a road bordered with clear, cool lakes whose gentle sight seemed to take away the fatigue of the journey. The great horse, true to its spirit, carried the King another hundred yojanas, and by evening, it had brought him close to Ujjayiní.

As the sun, shamed by this courser's superior speed compared to its own seven horses, sank into the ravines of the western mountain, darkness diffused abroad.

12. Rejection at the Brahman Monastery

The wise horse saw that the gates of Ujjayiní were closed for the night. It also knew the burning-place outside the gates was terrifying at that hour. It carried the King for shelter to a hidden, concealed monastery of Brahmans, situated in a lonely, quiet place outside the walls.

King Ádityasena, seeing that the monastery was a fit place to spend the night, as his horse was utterly tired, attempted to enter.

But the Brahmans who dwelled there fiercely opposed his entrance, shouting and claiming he must be some keeper of a cemetery or a dangerous thief. Out they poured in a quarrelsome mood, with savage gestures. These Brahmans, who lived a secluded life chanting the Sáma Veda, were known to be the home of timidity, boorishness, and ill-temper.

13. Vidúshaka's Intervention and Hospitality

Amidst the ugly clamor, a different kind of figure emerged: a virtuous Brahman named Vidúshaka. He was a young man, distinguished for his immense strength of arm, and he was known to be the bravest of the brave. Through rigorous austerities, he had propitiated the Fire-god and obtained a splendid sword from that deity—a weapon that would magically come to his hand simply upon thinking of it.

That resolute youth saw the king, a man of such distinguished, noble bearing arriving alone by night, and instantly thought, "He must be some god in disguise!"

The well-disposed Vidúshaka instantly pushed away all the other clamoring Brahmans. He bowed humbly before the King, his voice ringing with respect, and caused him to enter the monastery. After the King had rested and had the dust of his journey washed off by female slaves, Vidúshaka prepared for him suitable food.

14. Vidúshaka's Vigilance

Vidúshaka did not neglect the King's tireless companion. He personally took the saddle off the excellent horse and relieved its fatigue by giving it grass and fresh fodder.

After he had prepared a bed for the wearied King, he declared, his hand resting on the hilt of the invisible sword, “My lord, I shall guard your person myself. Sleep in peace.”

And while the great King Ádityasena slept the deep, peaceful sleep of exhaustion and safety, that Brahman, Vidúshaka, kept a tireless watch the whole night at the door, the divine sword of the Fire-god clutched in his hand, ready for any danger.

15. The King's Triumphant Return

Early on the morrow, Vidúshaka, without waiting for any royal orders, of his own generous accord saddled the horse the moment the King awoke. The King took his leave of the loyal, virtuous Brahman, mounted his horse, and entered the city of Ujjayiní.

The people, who had feared him lost to the forest and the wilderness, beheld him afar off and were bewildered with joy. The moment he entered, his subjects swarmed him, greeting him with a confused hum of intense delight at his return.

The King, accompanied by his emotional ministers, entered the palace. At last, the immense anxiety left the breast of Queen Tejasvatí. All at once, grief seemed to be swept away from the city by the thousands of silken flags—displayed out of pure, frantic joy—which waved fiercely in the wind. The Queen made a high festival that lasted until the end of the day, until the people of the city and the sun itself were both red as vermilion.

16. Vidúshaka's Reward and Honor

The very next day, the grateful King Ádityasena had Vidúshaka summoned from the monastery, along with all the other Brahmans.

As soon as the King had publicly made known exactly what took place that terrifying night—the rejection by the many Brahmans and the salvation by one—he gave his benefactor, Vidúshaka, an unprecedented reward: a thousand villages.

The grateful king also gave that Brahman a royal umbrella and an elephant and appointed him his Domestic Chaplain—the highest position of religious honor. Vidúshaka was beheld with great interest and respect by all the people. The Brahman had become equal to a chieftain. Indeed, how can a benefit conferred on great persons, who remember their debts, ever fail of bearing spectacular fruit?

17. Vidúshaka's Generosity and the Brahmans' Greed

The noble-minded Vidúshaka, true to his generous heart, instantly shared all those villages he had received from the King with the very Brahmans who lived in the monastery, those who had scorned the King.

He remained in the court, attending upon the sovereign, enjoying his share of the income. But as time went on, those other Brahmans, suddenly possessed of wealth they did not earn, began striving, each of them, to be chief. They made no account of Vidúshaka, being utterly intoxicated with the pride of wealth.

Dwelling in separate, quarreling parties, seven in one place, consumed by their mutual rivalries, they began to oppress the villages like a series of malignant planets casting a terrible influence.

18. Chakradhara's Scolding and Challenge

Vidúshaka, a man of firm mind, simply regarded their excesses with scornful indifference, rightly treating men of little soul with contempt.

Once upon a time, a stern Brahman named Chakradhara, who was naturally stern, saw them engaged in a loud, childish wrangling and approached them. Chakradhara, though he was one-eyed, was sharp-sighted enough in deciding what was right in other men’s affairs. Though a hunchback, he was straightforward enough in his speech.

He stood before them and delivered a scathing rebuke: "You rascals! You obtained this windfall while you were living by begging! Why do you now ruin the villages with your mutual intolerance and lack of wisdom? It is all the fault of Vidúshaka, who permitted you to act thus foolishly! You may be certain that in a short time, you will again have to roam about begging!"

19. The Test of Courage

Chakradhara delivered his final, powerful counsel: "A situation in which there is no head, and everyone shifts for himself by his own wits, is better than one of disunion under many heads, in which all affairs go to rack and ruin. So take my advice: appoint one firm man as your head if you desire unshaken prosperity, which can only be ensured by a capable governor!"

On hearing this, every one of the greedy Brahmans immediately desired the headship for himself.

Chakradhara reflected, his one eye sharp. He spoke to the fools again: "Since you are so addicted to mutual rivalry, I propose a clear, unshakeable basis of agreement. In the neighboring cemetery, three robbers have been executed by impalement. Whoever is daring enough to cut off the noses of those three by night and bring them here, he shall be your head. For courage, not greed, merits command!"

20. Vidúshaka Accepts the Challenge

When Chakradhara made this gruesome proposal, Vidúshaka, who was standing quietly near, simply said to the Brahmans, "Do this. What is there to be afraid of? It is a simple test."

The Brahmans looked at the horrifying nature of the task. "We are not bold enough to do it," they stammered, fear blanching their faces. "Let whoever is able, do it, and we will abide by the agreement!"

Then Vidúshaka stepped forward. "Well, I will do it," he declared, his voice calm and firm. "I will cut off the noses of those robbers by night and bring them from the cemetery. Let us settle this foolish quarrel."

Those fools, believing the task utterly difficult and impossible for any sane man, agreed instantly. "If you do this, you shall be our lord! We make this agreement!"

21. The Cemetery and the Demons

The sun set, and night, dark and chilling, descended. Vidúshaka took his leave of the Brahmans and went to the cemetery. The hero entered the awful, sprawling grounds, the undertaking as terrifying as the place itself. His only companion was the magical sword of the Fire-god, which came with a single thought.

In the middle of that vast, terrifying place, where the shrieks of vultures and jackals were swelled by the screams of witches, and the flames of the funeral pyres were reinforced by the fires in the mouths of fire-breathing demons, he beheld the impaled men. They were facing up, their expressions fixed as if through fear of having their noses cut off.

22. The Successful Task and a New Sighting

As he approached, those three corpses, now tenanted by powerful demons, struck him with their fists, attempting to drive him away. The resolute hero slashed back fiercely with his divine sword, for fear had not learned to bestir herself in the breast of the brave Vidúshaka.

The corpses immediately ceased to be convulsed with the demons. The successful hero quickly cut off their noses and, binding them up in the corner of his garment, prepared to return.

As he was returning, he noticed a religious mendicant sitting quietly on a corpse, muttering dark, powerful charms. Curiosity, and the lure of amusement, made him pause. He stood concealed behind the mendicant to observe the dark ritual.

23. The Mendicant's Black Magic

In a moment, the corpse under the mendicant gave forth a chilling, hissing sound. Flames issued from its mouth, and small, dark mustard-seeds began to spill from its navel. The mendicant carefully gathered the seeds.

Rising up, he struck the corpse with the flat of his hand. The corpse, now tenanted by a mighty demon, immediately stood upright. The mendicant mounted its shoulder, and the demon began to depart at a terrifyingly rapid rate, flying through the dark.

Vidúshaka silently and cleverly followed, completely unobserved, intrigued and wary.

24. The Goddess's Demand for Sacrifice

After following the flying demon for a short distance, Vidúshaka saw an empty temple with a lone image of the goddess Durgá within. The mendicant got down from the shoulder of the demon, and the creature fell flat on the earth outside. The mendicant entered the inner shrine of the temple.

Vidúshaka slipped into a hidden spot, contriving to watch the mendicant without being seen.

The mendicant worshiped the goddess and offered a dark prayer: "O Goddess, if thou art pleased with me, grant me the desired boon of absolute power. If not, I will propitiate thee with the sacrifice of myself!"

When the mendicant, intoxicated with the success of his spells, finished, a chilling, disembodied voice came from the inner shrine. "Bring here the maiden daughter of King Ádityasena," the voice commanded. "Offer her as a sacrifice, and then you shall obtain your desire."

25. The Princess Kidnapping

The mendicant rushed out, struck the demon again with his hand, and the creature hissed but stood upright. Mounting the demon, from whose mouth issued visible flames of fire, the mendicant instantly flew away through the air toward the royal city to bring the princess.

Vidúshaka, seeing all this from his place of concealment, was filled with fury. "What!" he thought, his hand tightening on the sword. "Shall he slay the King's daughter while I, the loyal chaplain, am alive? Never! I will remain here until the scoundrel returns." Having formed this heroic resolve, Vidúshaka remained concealed, waiting.

The mendicant returned, having entered the palace through a window and found the King's daughter asleep. He was now flying back, all clothed in darkness, bearing the princess who, even in captivity, illuminated the region with her beauty. Bearing her along, the princess cried out in her grief: "Alas! my father! Alas! my mother!"

The mendicant descended into the temple, dismissed the demon, and entered the inner shrine with that pearl of maidens. He began the terrible preparations to slay the princess.

26. Vidúshaka's Rescue and the Villain's Death

At that precise, desperate moment, Vidúshaka came rushing in, his divine sword drawn.

"Villain!" he shouted. "Do you wish to smite a jasmine flower with a thunder-bolt? Is that why you desire to employ a weapon against this tender form?"

He seized the trembling mendicant by the hair and, with a swift, powerful stroke, cut off his head. The reign of terror was over. He quickly rushed to console the princess, who was utterly distracted with fear and clung to him closely as she began to recognize her savior.

27. The Gift of Aerial Travel

The hero, now victorious but faced with a logistical problem, thought, "How can I manage during this night to convey this princess from this lonely, terrifying place back to the harem without being seen?"

Just then, a voice from the air addressed him, soothing and calm. "Hear this, O Vidúshaka! The mendicant whom thou hast slain had in his power a great demon and some magical grains of mustard-seed. His ambition was to rule the earth and marry kings' daughters, which is why the fool has met his swift end today."

The voice continued, "Therefore, hero, take those mustard-seeds. For this night only, they will enable you to travel through the air."

28. A Mysterious Command

The aërial voice addressed the delighted Vidúshaka; even the gods often take such a hero under their protection. He took the grains of mustard-seed from the corner of the mendicant’s robe, and gathered the princess into his arms.

As he was setting out from the temple, another voice sounded in the air, a command, clear and solemn: "Thou must return to this very temple of the goddess at the end of a month. Thou must not forget this, O hero!"

Vidúshaka called out, "I will do so," resolving to keep the mystery. By the favor of the goddess and the power of the seeds, he immediately flew up into the air bearing the princess.

29. The Return to the Harem and the Princess's Fear

Flying swiftly through the air, he quickly placed the princess back in her private apartments. After she had recovered her spirits, he spoke gently. "I must depart now. Tomorrow morning, I shall not be able to fly through the air, and if I leave then, all men will see me going out."

The maiden was instantly alarmed. She threw her arms around him, her eyes wide with terror. "When you are gone, this breath of mine will surely leave my body, overcome with fear!" she pleaded. "Do not depart, great-souled hero! Once more, save my life. For the good make it their life's business from their birth to carry out every task they have undertaken to completion!"

30. Vidúshaka Stays and is Discovered

When the brave Vidúshaka heard the passion and terror in her voice, he reflected, "If I go and leave this maiden now, she may indeed die of fear. If that happens, what kind of loyalty to my sovereign shall I have exhibited?"

Thinking thus, he remained all night in those female apartments. At last, he gradually dropped off to sleep, utterly wearied with the toil and the long watch.

But the princess, in her terror, passed that night without sleeping. Yet, when the morning came, her mind was so tender, softened by a deep, growing love for her savior, that she looked at the sleeping hero and said to herself, "Let him rest a little longer." She did not wake the sleeping Vidúshaka.

Then, the servants of the harem came in, saw the Brahman sleeping there, and were instantly thrown into a state of consternation. They rushed to tell the King the scandalous news.

31. The King's Investigation and Vindication

The King, in his heart, trusted the excellent character of Vidúshaka, but was immediately bewildered. What did it mean? He sent his warder to discover the truth. The warder entered, beheld Vidúshaka, and heard the whole, incredible story from the mouth of the princess. He then went and repeated it all to the King.

The high-minded monarch had Vidúshaka brought from his daughter’s apartment. The hero walked out, escorted all the way by the princess’s soul, which followed him out of sheer, overwhelming affection.

When he arrived, the King asked him what had taken place. Vidúshaka, with a clear voice, told him the whole story from the beginning. To prove his words, he showed the King the gruesome but undeniable evidence: the noses of the robbers, fastened up in the end of his garment, and the unusual, dark mustard-seeds which had been in the possession of the mendicant, different from any found on earth.

The King suspected the truth of the story from this evidence.

32. Vidúshaka's Ultimate Reward

To establish the full truth, the King had all the Brahmans of the monastery brought before him, together with Chakradhara, and asked about the original cause of the challenge.

Finally, the King went in person to the cemetery. There, he saw the impaled men with their noses cut off, and the base mendicant with his neck severed.

The King reposed complete confidence in, and was immensely pleased with, the skillful and successful Vidúshaka, who had saved his daughter's life. He instantly gave him his own daughter on the spot. What do generous men withhold when pleased with their benefactors? Nothing.

Surely the goddess of Prosperity, out of love for the lotus, must have dwelt in the hand of the princess, for Vidúshaka obtained the greatest good fortune after he had received her in the marriage ceremony.

33. The Forgotten Appointment

Vidúshaka, now enjoying a distinguished reputation, engaged in attending upon the sovereign, lived happily with that beloved wife in the palace of King Ádityasena.

As days passed, the month drew to a close. Once, while the couple lay resting, the princess was suddenly impelled by some supernatural power.

She spoke softly to Vidúshaka, a note of urgency in her voice. "My lord, you remember that when you were in the temple of the goddess a divine voice said to you, 'Come here at the end of a month'? To-day is the last day of the month, and you have forgotten it!"

34. The Celestial Encounter

When his beloved said this to him, Vidúshaka was instantly delighted. He recalled the solemn command in the air. "Well remembered on thy part, fair one!" he exclaimed. "But I had indeed forgotten it." He embraced her by way of reward for her sharp memory.

Then, while she was asleep, he left the women’s apartments by night. In high spirits, he went armed with his sword to the temple of the goddess. He exclaimed outside, "I, Vidúshaka, am arrived!"

He heard a welcoming speech uttered by someone inside: "Come in, Vidúshaka."

Thereupon he entered and beheld a stunning heavenly palace. Inside, a lady of unparalleled heavenly beauty, surrounded by a celestial retinue, sat radiating light. She seemed to dispel the darkness entirely, like a night set on fire, looking as if she were the very medicine to restore the God of Love, who had been consumed by Shiva’s wrath.

35. The Vidyadhara Maiden's Love

Vidúshaka, wondering what it all could mean, was joyfully received by the lady in person with a welcome full of profound affection and great respect. When he had sat down and gained confidence from the sight of her pure affection, he became eager to understand the true nature of the adventure.

She smiled and spoke, her voice like the chiming of celestial bells. "I am a maiden of the Vidyádhara race—a celestial being—of high descent. My name is Bhadrá. As I was roaming about at my will, I saw you here on that occasion when you rescued the princess. My heart was utterly attracted by your great virtues. I fell in love with your courage and nobility."

She confessed the whole truth. "I was the one who uttered that voice which seemed to come from someone invisible, in order that you might return to me today! And today, I purposely bewildered your beloved princess by employing my magic skill, so that under my impulse she revived your remembrance of this matter."

36. The Gandharva Marriage

Bhadrá looked at him, her eyes shining with sincere love. "I am here for your sake, handsome hero, and I surrender myself to you. Marry me."

The noble Vidúshaka, a man who had already proved his worth to both gods and men, agreed instantly when the Vidyádharí Bhadrá addressed him in this style. He married her by the Gándharva ceremony—the marriage by mutual consent, which is revered among the heavens.

He remained in that very palace, having now obtained celestial joys, the fruits of his own extraordinary valor, living in utter bliss with his new beloved wife.

37. The Princess's Grief and Despair

Meanwhile, when the night came to an end, the princess awoke in the palace and did not see her husband. She was instantly plunged into despair, the old fear of loss returning a thousandfold.

She got up and went with tottering steps to her mother, all trembling, her eyes flooded with gushing tears. She told her mother that her husband had vanished in the night and was full of terrible self-reproach, fearing that she had been guilty of some terrible fault that had driven him away.

Her mother was distracted with grief for her daughter, and soon the King heard of it and fell into a state of the utmost anxiety.

"I know my husband has gone to the temple of the goddess outside the cemetery!" the princess wept. The King immediately went there in person.

38. An Aerial Promise of Return

The King searched everywhere but was utterly unable to find Vidúshaka. The hero was completely concealed by the virtue of the magic science of the Vidyádharí.

The King returned, and his daughter, in utter despair, determined to leave the body—to commit suicide out of pure grief and loss.

But while she was thus minded, a wise man—sent, perhaps, by the compassionate Bhadrá or the gods themselves—came to her.

"Do not fear any misfortune, O Princess," he said with calm authority. "That husband of yours is living in the enjoyment of heavenly felicity, and he will return to thee shortly."

When she heard this miraculous promise, the princess retained her precious life, which was kept within her only by the hope of her husband's return, a hope that had now taken deep root in her loving heart.

Deep in a secluded grove, where perfumed breezes whispered secrets through ancient trees, lived Bhadrá, a radiant Vidyádhara princess, and Vidúshaka, a mortal prince. Their love, born against the wishes of the celestial beings, was a defiant spark in a world of divine rules.

One sun-drenched afternoon, as golden light dappled through the leaves, a friend of Bhadrá's, Yogeśvarí, arrived with a face etched with worry.

A Friend's Warning and Bhadrá's Plan: "Bhadrá, my dearest friend," Yogeśvarí began, her voice low and urgent, "the Vidyádharas are furious. They see your love for Vidúshaka as an insult, a defiance of our ways. They mean to harm you." Bhadrá's eyes widened, a flicker of fear crossing her beautiful features. Yogeśvarí continued, "You must leave this place. There is a sanctuary, Mount Udaya, beyond the eastern sea and the sacred Śítodá river. It is the land of the Siddhas, a place even the Vidyádharas dare not tread. Go there, swiftly." Bhadrá, though her heart ached at the thought of leaving Vidúshaka, knew the danger was real. A plan began to form in her mind.

As twilight painted the sky with hues of amethyst and rose, Bhadrá found Vidúshaka by a moonlit pond. Her eyes, usually so full of joy, held a profound sadness.

2. The Farewell and the Gift of the Ring: "My love," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "I must leave you, but only for a time. The Vidyádharas seek to harm me. I must go to Mount Udaya, a sacred peak far to the east. Promise me, my dearest Vidúshaka, that you will follow." She slipped a magnificent emerald ring onto his finger, its facets catching the moonlight. "This is my token, my promise. It will guide you. Remember this place, this time, and know my heart remains with you." With a final, tearful embrace, as the last stars began to fade into the approaching dawn, Bhadrá vanished, a shimmer of magic in the air.

Vidúshaka awoke with a gasp, not in Bhadrá's enchanted palace, but on the cold stone floor of the goddess temple where they had first met.

3. Vidúshaka's Return to Reality and Despair: The opulent palace, the fragrant gardens, Bhadrá herself – all were gone, replaced by dusty silence and the stone gaze of the goddess statue. He looked at his hand; the emerald ring gleamed on his finger. "Was it all a dream?" he whispered, his voice hoarse with disbelief. But the ring was real, and the memory of Bhadrá's urgent words echoed in his mind. A wave of despair, mixed with a bewildering wonder at her magical power, washed over him. "Bhadrá... where are you?"

He paced the temple floor, the words of her farewell ringing in his ears. "Mount Udaya... the rising sun mountain." He knew he had to find her.

4. A Plan to Escape the King: "But if I simply disappear," he muttered to himself, "King Ádityasena will send his guards, search for me, never let me leave. He loves me like a son." A desperate idea sparked in his mind. He needed to be free, truly free, to undertake this perilous journey. He needed to appear... unreachable.

With a grim determination, Vidúshaka began to transform himself.

5. Feigning Madness: He smeared dust and ash from the temple floor onto his face and hands, tearing his silken garments into tattered rags. His hair, usually meticulously groomed, became wild and unkempt. Then, stepping out into the bustling city streets, he began to cry out, a heart-wrenching wail that chilled onlookers: "Ah Bhadrá! Ah Bhadrá! My love, where have you gone?" His eyes, usually intelligent and keen, now held a vacant, haunted look.

The people of the city quickly recognized the king's beloved friend, Vidúshaka, but in this wretched state, he was barely recognizable.

6. The King's Intervention: "It's Vidúshaka!" someone shouted, pointing. "He's gone mad!" News quickly reached the palace. King Ádityasena, distraught, rushed out. Seeing his dear friend, once so vibrant, now behaving like a lunatic, the king's heart broke. "Vidúshaka, my friend!" he cried, rushing forward and gently taking hold of him. He led the resistance-less prince back to the royal palace, hoping to restore him.

Inside the palace, Vidúshaka stubbornly maintained his charade.

7. Maintaining the Ruse: His loyal servants, weeping, offered him comforting words and warm blankets, but he merely pushed them away, his only response a mournful, "Ah Bhadrá! Ah Bhadrá!" Physicians brought soothing unguents to calm him, but he immediately smeared them with ash. The Princess, who harbored a secret affection for him, lovingly offered him his favorite delicacies, but he knocked the plate to the ground and trampled the food underfoot. His act was utterly convincing, utterly heartbreaking.

Days turned into a week, and Vidúshaka showed no signs of recovery. He tore his clothes, wandered aimlessly, a picture of profound grief and madness.

8. Gaining Freedom: King Ádityasena, his face lined with sorrow, watched his friend's decline. "His condition is past cure," the king sighed to his advisors. "What is the use of torturing him further? If I keep him confined, he may die, and I would be guilty of the death of a Bráhman. Perhaps, if he is allowed to roam freely, his mind may heal with time, or he may find solace." With a heavy heart, the king gave the order: Vidúshaka was free to go wherever he wished.

The very next morning, Vidúshaka shed his madman's persona like an old skin. His eyes, now clear and focused, held a fierce resolve.

9. The Journey Begins: With Bhadrá's emerald ring shining on his finger, he slipped out of the palace gates. He carried nothing but the clothes on his back and the unwavering promise in his heart. His path lay eastward, towards the rising sun, towards Mount Udaya, towards Bhadrá. Each step was a prayer, each breath a testament to his love.

Weeks turned into months as Vidúshaka tirelessly journeyed eastward, his feet carrying him through dense forests and across sun-baked plains. One evening, as the sky softened to dusk, he arrived at a bustling city.

10. A Stop in Pauṇḍravardhana: The city, named Pauṇḍravardhana, was a welcome sight. He sought refuge in a humble dwelling, knocking gently on the door. An ancient Bráhman woman, her face a roadmap of life's joys and sorrows, opened it. "Mother," he said respectfully, "might I beg a night's lodging?" She nodded kindly, her eyes full of a hidden sorrow he couldn't yet understand.

After offering him a simple meal, the old woman sat opposite him, her hands clasped, a deep sadness clouding her eyes.

11. The Old Woman's Sad Offer: "My son," she began, her voice quivering, "I want to give you this house. All of it. Please, accept it. I... I cannot live here any longer." Vidúshaka, astonished by this sudden and solemn declaration, leaned forward. "Mother," he asked gently, "why do you speak so? What troubles you so deeply?"

A sigh, heavy with grief, escaped her lips. "Listen, my son," she said, her voice barely a whisper, "and I will tell you a story that breaks my heart."

12. The Tale of Duḥkalabdhiká: "In this very city," she began, her gaze distant, "lives King Devasena. And to him, after many long years of fervent prayers and sacrifices, was born a single daughter. She was so precious, so beautiful, an ornament to the earth itself. The king, overjoyed yet ever-mindful of the difficulty he faced in having her, named her Duḥkalabdhiká – 'She Who Was Obtained With Difficulty'." The old woman's voice trailed off, the weight of the name hanging heavy in the air, hinting at a tragedy yet to unfold.

The ancient kingdom of Pauṇḍravardhana, ruled by the benevolent King Devasena, was shrouded in a sorrow deeper than any shadow cast by its grand palaces. A terrible curse afflicted his beloved daughter, the Princess Mandakini.

The Cursed Princess and the Daily Sacrifice

Mandakini, whose beauty rivaled the moon, carried a tragic fate. Any man who dared to enter her chambers as her husband would perish upon their very first meeting. Her father, the king, had watched in despair as the joy of his kingdom slowly turned to dread. The curse had begun subtly, but its grip tightened with each passing day. The court physicians, the most renowned sages, all had failed. There was no remedy, only a brutal truth.

The King's Two Dead Sons-in-Law

"My heart is heavy, General," King Devasena sighed, his voice thick with grief, addressing his most trusted commander. "My daughter, so radiant, yet so alone." He recounted the harrowing events. "First, I gave her to the King of Kachchhapa. A noble man, strong and kind. He entered her private apartments... and was found lifeless at dawn. My sorrow was immense, but I hoped it was a cruel twist of fate, a singular tragedy."

The General, a burly man with a face weathered by many battles, listened with a grim expression.

"Then," the King continued, a tremor in his voice, "I offered her hand again, this time to a brave prince from a distant land. He too met the same gruesome end. Two young lives, extinguished by a mystery I cannot fathom." The King buried his face in his hands, tears silently tracing paths through the lines of worry on his face. "After these two tragedies, no king, no prince, however valiant, would dare approach her. Fear, General, is a powerful deterrent."

The General remained silent, his gaze fixed on the marble floor, feeling the profound despair that permeated the royal chambers.

Vidúshaka Learns of the Bráhman's Calamity

Far from the palace walls, in a modest home, lived a Bráhman woman, her face etched with a profound, soul-wrenching sorrow. Her only son, a young man of gentle spirit, was destined to be the next to face the princess's curse. The king, desperate and out of options, had issued a decree: every day, a man from a different house, a Bráhman or a Kshatriya, was to be brought to the palace and spend the night in the princess's chamber. It was a macabre lottery, a grim search for an answer, or perhaps, for a man immune to the curse. Hundreds had already perished.

It was into this house, on this very day, that Vidúshaka, a wandering scholar of extraordinary intellect and hidden powers, chanced to arrive. He was seeking alms, a common practice for mendicants, but what he found was a scene of utter desolation. The Bráhman woman wept inconsolably, clutching her son as if to shield him from an invisible predator.

"Honorable mother," Vidúshaka asked, his voice gentle yet firm, "Why such sorrow? Your tears speak of a profound grief. May I be of any assistance?"

The woman looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Oh, noble sir," she wailed, "Today, the shadow of death falls upon my home. My only son, my light, my hope, is chosen for the royal decree. He must go to the princess's chambers tonight, and I know, with a mother's certainty, he will not return." She gestured wildly towards a small chest. "I offer you all I possess, my humble home, my few belongings. Take them, worthy stranger. Perhaps in my next life, this act of charity will spare me such suffering."

Vidúshaka Volunteers to Face the Danger

Vidúshaka listened, his keen mind rapidly piecing together the grim details of the princess's curse. He saw the genuine despair in the woman's eyes, the quiet resignation of her son. A sense of righteous determination stirred within him. This was not a natural misfortune; it was a malevolent force at work.

"Mother," Vidúshaka said, his voice resonating with an unexpected authority, "If this is the entirety of your plight, then do not despair. Your tears shall not be shed in vain, nor your son sent to his doom."

The Bráhman woman looked at him, a flicker of bewildered hope in her sorrowful gaze. "What do you mean, noble sir?"

"I mean," Vidúshaka declared, his eyes burning with an inner light, "that I shall go to the palace tonight in your son's stead. Let him live."

The woman gasped, aghast. "No! You are a stranger, a kind soul! Why would you offer yourself to such a certain death? I cannot bear to be the cause of your demise!"

Vidúshaka's Magical Power and the Bráhman's Relief

A faint, knowing smile touched Vidúshaka's lips. "Do not worry on my account, mother. You will not be responsible for any harm. For you see, I possess certain magical powers, a divine protection that renders me immune to such dangers. I run no risk in facing this mystery."

The Bráhman woman stared at him, her despair slowly giving way to awe. Could it be? Could this stranger truly possess such gifts? "Then... then you must be some god, come here as a reward for my virtues!" she exclaimed, falling to her knees. "Please, noble one, restore life to my son, and in doing so, gain immense felicity for yourself!" Her hope, once extinguished, now flared bright.

The Confrontation: Vidúshaka Guards the Princess

As evening descended, painting the sky in hues of saffron and violet, Vidúshaka, accompanied by a servant dispatched by the General, made his way to the royal palace. He was led through opulent corridors, past guards with stern faces, until he reached the princess's private apartments.

There, he beheld Princess Mandakini. She was indeed beautiful, her youth blooming like an unpicked flower, yet her eyes held a profound sadness, like a creeper weighed down by too many blossoms. She was a picture of vibrant life touched by a spectral sorrow. She looked at him with an expression of weary pity, accustomed to the procession of men who came to their end in her presence. She had given up hope of ever finding a husband, resigned to her cursed existence.

Vidúshaka offered a respectful bow, his gaze calm and reassuring, though no words passed between them. He understood her plight, her silent suffering.

The Rákshasa's Appearance and Attack

As night deepened, casting long, eerie shadows across the luxurious chamber, the princess retired to her lavish bed, her back to Vidúshaka. Vidúshaka, however, remained wide awake. In his hand, he held the sword of the Fire-god, a weapon that had manifested in his grasp simply by his will. Its hilt was warm, pulsing with a faint, fiery glow. "Tonight," he vowed to himself, "I will uncover the truth behind these deaths."

The palace grew silent, the city outside settling into a slumber. Vidúshaka's senses were heightened, his ears straining for any sound, his eyes scanning the ornate room. Then, subtly at first, a faint creaking sound. The door leading to the outer apartments, which had been securely fastened, slowly, almost imperceptibly, began to open.

Vidúshaka Cuts Off the Rákshasa's Arm

From the deepening gloom of the doorway, a monstrous figure emerged. It was a Rákshasa, a demon of terrifying aspect, its eyes glowing with malevolent intent. It was indeed a creature of nightmare, tall and gaunt, with sharp claws and teeth. The Rákshasa, accustomed to its easy victories, slowly extended a grotesque arm into the room. This was the swift wand of Death, the instrument that had taken hundreds of lives. Its hand reached towards the sleeping princess, not to harm her directly, but to draw out the life force of any man who shared her chamber.

But this night, Death would not have its way. Vidúshaka, seeing the creature's methodical approach, sprang forward with a furious roar. The Fire-god's sword, a blur of silver and flame, descended with devastating speed and precision. With a single, mighty stroke, Vidúshaka severed the Rákshasa's arm.

A shriek of agony, more animal than human, tore through the stillness of the night. The Rákshasa, maimed and utterly terrified by this unexpected resistance, recoiled instantly. Never before had any mortal challenged it, let alone inflicted such a wound.

The King's Delight and Vidúshaka's Reward

The Rákshasa, screaming in pain and fear, fled through the door it had entered, its plans thwarted, its reign of terror broken. Vidúshaka watched it disappear, knowing it would not return to this place.

The commotion, though brief, roused the princess. She sat up in bed, her eyes wide with alarm. Then she saw it – the severed, grotesque arm of the Rákshasa lying on the polished floor. Her fear was quickly replaced by a mixture of profound relief, bewildered delight, and astonished wonder. The curse was broken. The man who sat calmly before her had done what no one else could.

Morning broke, ushering in a new dawn for the princess and the kingdom. King Devasena, upon hearing the incredible news, rushed to his daughter's chambers. There, at the entrance, lay the gruesome proof of Vidúshaka's valor – the severed arm of the demon. It was as if Vidúshaka had symbolically bolted the door against future evil, declaring, "Henceforth, no other man must enter here."

Overjoyed and immensely relieved, the king embraced Vidúshaka. "You, noble hero," he declared, his voice filled with gratitude, "possess divine power! You have saved my daughter, and lifted a terrible weight from my kingdom. I give you my daughter's hand in marriage, and with it, immense wealth, fitting for such a savior!"

Vidúshaka, the humble scholar, accepted the king's generous offer. He remained in Pauṇḍravardhana for several days, living with Princess Mandakini as if with prosperity incarnate, honored and revered.

Vidúshaka's Sudden Departure to Find Bhadrá

Despite the comfort and honor he now enjoyed, Vidúshaka's heart longed for another. His true beloved, Bhadrá, a Vidyadhari (celestial nymph), was still far away. His mission to find her was paramount, and he knew he could not delay.

One night, while Princess Mandakini slept peacefully, oblivious to his intentions, Vidúshaka quietly rose. He left her side, a pang of regret in his heart, but his resolve to reunite with Bhadrá was unshakeable. He slipped out of the palace, leaving the sleeping city behind, and set out in haste, guided by a love that transcended earthly comforts.

Journey to Támraliptá and Meeting Merchant Skandhadása

The next morning, Princess Mandakini awoke to find Vidúshaka gone. Her heart sank, afflicted by his absence, but her father, the king, comforted her with the promise of his return. She knew he was a man of destiny, and such men often had grander purposes to fulfill.

Vidúshaka, meanwhile, traveled day after day, his journey arduous but his spirit unflagging. He traversed vast plains, dense forests, and winding rivers, his mind fixed on his beloved. Finally, he reached the bustling city of Támraliptá, a renowned port town not far from the eastern sea. It was a hub of trade and maritime activity, with ships from various lands filling its harbor.

There, he encountered a wealthy merchant named Skandhadása, who was preparing his ship for a long sea voyage. Skandhadása was known for his vast riches and his ambition to expand his trade routes across the great ocean. Vidúshaka, ever resourceful, joined the merchant's company, seeking passage across the sea.

The Ship Stops in the Middle of the Ocean

The ship, laden with the merchant's immense wealth, set sail into the vast, blue expanse of the ocean. Days turned into weeks, the rhythm of the waves a constant companion. Then, one calm morning, a strange phenomenon occurred. The ship, which had been cutting smoothly through the water, suddenly shuddered to a halt. It stopped dead in the middle of the ocean, as if an invisible, colossal hand had gripped its keel.

Panic erupted amongst the crew. The steersmen shouted, the sails flapped uselessly, but the ship remained unmoving. They tried everything – adjusting the sails, rowing, even offering jewels to propitiate the sea gods. Nothing worked. The ship was stuck, a silent monument to an unknown force.

The Merchant's Desperate Offer and Vidúshaka's Plan

Merchant Skandhadása, a man whose wealth was his very identity, watched in growing despair. His face, usually jovial, was now contorted with grief and anxiety. This stagnation threatened to ruin him.

"This is an ill omen!" he cried, wringing his hands. "My fortune, my life's work, all is lost if this ship does not move!" He paced the deck frantically, his eyes searching the horizon, then the depths of the sea, for any sign of a solution. "Listen, all of you!" he finally bellowed, his voice hoarse with desperation. "Whoever releases my ship, whoever breaks this unseen hold, to him I shall give half of my entire wealth! And my daughter's hand in marriage!"

A murmur went through the crew, but no one dared to offer a solution. The ocean was mysterious, its depths full of unknown terrors.

Vidúshaka, hearing the merchant's desperate plea, stepped forward. His voice, calm and resolute, cut through the clamor. "Merchant Skandhadása, do not despair. I shall descend into the waters of the sea and discover what holds your ship captive. And I shall set it free in a moment."

Skandhadása looked at him, hope warring with skepticism. "You? A lone man, into the vast ocean?"

"Indeed," Vidúshaka replied, his gaze unwavering. "But I have conditions. You must secure me with strong ropes, fastened around my body. And the very moment the ship moves, you must draw me up from the depths, without delay."

Vidúshaka Enters the Sea and Locates the Obstruction

The merchant, desperate to save his fortune, readily agreed. "Done! Whatever you ask, noble one, it shall be done!" The steersmen quickly prepared thick ropes, binding them securely under Vidúshaka's armpits.

"A brave man never despairs when the moment for action has arrived," Vidúshaka declared, a glint of determination in his eyes. Taking the Fire-god's sword, which appeared in his hand at his command, he plunged into the churning emerald depths of the ocean.

He descended swiftly, the cold water embracing him, the light diminishing with every fathom. He swam towards the underside of the ship, his eyes keenly searching for the obstruction.

The Giant Asleep and the Severed Leg

And then, he saw it. There, amidst the shadowy rocks and ancient corals, lay a colossal giant, sleeping peacefully. Its massive leg, stretched out carelessly, was resting directly against the ship's keel, acting as an immovable anchor. The ship was not cursed; it was merely snagged on a slumbering titan!

Vidúshaka did not hesitate. Raising the Fire-god's sword, its blade glowing faintly even in the dim light, he brought it down with all his might. The ancient blade sliced through the giant's leg as if it were soft wood.

The Merchant's Treachery and Cutting the Ropes

The giant stirred, a low rumble echoing through the water, but it was too late. Its leg was severed. Instantly, the ship, freed from its unexpected impediment, lurched forward. The crew above deck cheered, shouting in delight as the vessel resumed its journey.

On deck, Merchant Skandhadása saw the ship move, relief flooding his face. Then his gaze fell upon the ropes, still taut, leading into the water where Vidúshaka was being pulled up. A vile thought, born of immense greed, wormed its way into his mind. Half my wealth? And my daughter? No! I can save it all!

With a sudden, despicable move, the wicked merchant seized an axe and, with a swift stroke, cut the ropes. He wanted to save the wealth he had promised, casting Vidúshaka to the mercies of the vast, unforgiving sea. The ship, now freed, sped swiftly towards the distant shore, leaving the hero behind.

Vidúshaka's Reflection on Ingratitude

Vidúshaka, now in the middle of the sea, the severed ropes dangling uselessly from his body, felt the sudden tug and then the terrifying slack. He quickly rose to the surface, gasping for air, and saw the ship, now a distant speck, sailing away. The realization of the merchant's betrayal dawned upon him.

He remained calm, even in this dire predicament, allowing his mind to reflect. "Why did the merchant do this?" he mused, the sting of ingratitude sharper than the salt in his eyes. "Surely, in this case, the proverb is applicable: 'Ungrateful men, blinded by the desire of gain, cannot see a benefit.'"

A profound truth settled upon him. Such was the nature of some men, their souls groveling beneath the weight of avarice.

Crossing the Ocean on the Giant's Severed Leg

"Well," Vidúshaka declared to himself, his voice echoing only in the vastness of the sea, "it is now high time for me to display intrepidity. For if courage fails, even a small calamity cannot be overcome."

He looked around. The severed giant's leg, still floating, bobbed near him. An idea, daring and audacious, sparked in his mind. He swam towards it, clambering onto the immense limb. It was still fresh, buoyant. Using his hands as paddles, he began to propel himself across the vast ocean, astride the monstrous leg.

It was an impossible feat, yet Vidúshaka accomplished it. For even destiny, it seemed, took the part of men of distinguished valor. He paddled ceaselessly, guided by an inner compass, towards the distant shores.

The Voice from Heaven and the Fire-God's Blessing

As he neared the desolate coast, exhausted but triumphant, a magnificent voice boomed from the heavens, echoing across the sea. It was a voice filled with power and benevolence, addressing him directly.

"Bravo, Vidúshaka! Bravo! Who else but you is a man of such valor? I am pleased with this courage of yours! Therefore, hear this."

Vidúshaka looked up, his heart filled with awe.

"You have reached a desolate coast here," the voice continued, "but from this very spot, you shall arrive in seven days at the magnificent city of Kárkoṭaka. There, you shall pluck up fresh spirits, and journeying quickly from that place, you shall obtain your ultimate desire – your beloved Bhadrá. I am Agni, the Fire-god, the consumer of oblations to gods and ancestral spirits, whom you have always honored. Owing to my favor, you shall feel neither hunger nor thirst on your journey. Go forth, prosperously and confidently!"

And with that, the divine voice ceased, leaving Vidúshaka filled with renewed strength and unshakeable resolve.

Arrival at the City of Kárkoṭaka

Vidúshaka bowed deeply, adoring the unseen Fire-god, his heart swelling with gratitude. With the divine blessing to sustain him, he set forth with high spirits. He walked for seven days, feeling no pangs of hunger or thirst, his steps light and purposeful. On the seventh day, just as foretold, he reached the grand city of Kárkoṭaka.

It was a bustling city, vibrant and prosperous, a stark contrast to the desolate coast he had left behind. Its towering walls and magnificent gates spoke of a powerful kingdom.

Taking Shelter in the Bráhman Monastery

Upon entering Kárkoṭaka, Vidúshaka sought shelter in a large monastery. It was a renowned institution, inhabited by many noble Bráhmans from various lands, known for their unwavering hospitality. The monastery was a wealthy foundation, endowed by the king of that place, Áryavarman, and adorned with beautiful temples, all made of gleaming gold.

He was welcomed warmly by the Bráhmans. One kind Bráhman took him to his own chamber, providing him with a refreshing bath, nourishing food, and clean clothing. Vidúshaka, exhausted from his journey but invigorated by the divine blessing, accepted their kindness with grace.

The New Proclamation: Another Cursed Princess

As he was resting in the monastery, enjoying the respite, a familiar sound drifted in from the city streets – the rhythmic beat of drums, followed by a loud, clear proclamation. It was the evening announcement, and the words carried a chilling familiarity.

"Hear ye! Hear ye! Whatever Bráhman or Kshatriya wishes to-morrow morning to marry the king's daughter, let him spend a night in her chamber!"

A shiver of recognition ran down Vidúshaka's spine. Another cursed princess? Another king desperate for a solution? It seemed fate, or perhaps a lingering demonic presence, had led him to yet another such predicament.

The Bráhmans' Warning and Vidúshaka's Resolve

Upon hearing the proclamation, Vidúshaka immediately suspected the true reason behind it. His mind raced back to Pauṇḍravardhana, to the Rákshasa he had encountered. He knew this was no ordinary marriage offer. Being always fond of daring adventures, and recognizing a familiar pattern of evil, he felt a strong desire to investigate. He intended to go to the apartment of this princess.

The Bráhmans of the monastery, realizing his intent, gathered around him, their faces filled with concern. "Bráhman, do not be rash!" one elderly sage pleaded, his voice trembling. "The apartment of the princess is not rightly so called; rather, it is the open mouth of death! Whoever enters it at night does not escape alive. Many daring men have met their end there, noble sir, do not follow their path!"

Vidúshaka Enters the Second Princess's Chamber

Despite their fervent warnings, Vidúshaka would not be swayed. He listened respectfully, but his resolve was firm. He knew he possessed the means to counter such a threat. "My friends," he said, "I appreciate your concern, but I must investigate. There are forces at play here that I understand."

Accompanied by royal servants, he made his way to King Áryavarman's palace. The king himself, a grave and weary man, welcomed Vidúshaka, a flicker of desperate hope in his eyes, much like King Devasena before him. As night fell, Vidúshaka entered the apartment of King Áryavarman's daughter, appearing as radiant and confident as the sun entering a fire.

The Return of the One-Armed Rákshasa, Yamadanshṭra

Inside, he found the princess. Her appearance suggested a deep sorrow, her eyes tearful, her expression one of utter despair. She seemed, in her quiet suffering, to be silently attached to him, as if recognizing in him a glimmer of hope. She watched him, expecting his swift demise.

Vidúshaka, however, spent the night awake, his gaze intently fixed on the chamber entrance, the Fire-god's sword held firmly in his hand, a familiar warmth emanating from its hilt. He waited.

And suddenly, there it was. At the entrance, a very terrible Rákshasa appeared. Its form was unmistakably familiar, but it extended only its left hand, for its right had been severed.

Vidúshaka's Strategy to Capture the Rákshasa

A sly smile touched Vidúshaka's lips. "Aha!" he thought to himself, a thrill of recognition and anticipation coursing through him. "Here is that very Rákshasa whose arm I cut off in the city of Pauṇḍravardhana!"

He knew the creature would not expect him to be here, and certainly not prepared for a renewed attack. His mind quickly formulated a strategy. "I will not strike at his arm again," he decided. "Lest he should escape me and depart as before. For this reason, it is better for me to kill him outright." He knew the creature's vulnerability now.

The Rákshasa Pleads for Mercy and Reveals His Duty

With a sudden burst of speed, Vidúshaka lunged forward, catching the surprised Rákshasa off guard. He seized its hair, pulling its head back, preparing to deliver a fatal blow with his glowing sword.

The Rákshasa, facing certain death, let out a terrified shriek. "Do not slay me, brave warrior!" it cried, its voice trembling with extreme terror. "You are courageous! Therefore, show mercy!"

Vidúshaka paused, the sword poised. "Who are you?" he demanded, his voice stern, "And what are you doing here, bringing death to these royal chambers?"

The Rákshasa, its grotesque features contorted in fear, quickly responded. "My name is Yamadanshṭra," it stammered. "I had two daughters. This princess here is one, and the princess who lives in Pauṇḍravardhana is the other."

Vidúshaka's eyes narrowed, a flicker of understanding dawning.

"Lord Shiva himself favored me with a divine command," Yamadanshṭra continued, his voice regaining a measure of composure, "He laid upon me this duty: 'Thou must save the two princesses from marrying anyone who is not a true hero.' I was merely fulfilling that divine decree. I first had an arm cut off at Pauṇḍravardhana in the performance of this duty, and now I have been conquered by you here. My duty is accomplished, for you, clearly, are that hero!"

Vidúshaka Reveals His Identity to Yamadanshṭra

Vidúshaka burst into laughter, a rich, resonant sound that filled the chamber. "It was I," he declared, his eyes twinkling with amusement, "that cut off your arm there in Pauṇḍravardhana!"

Yamadanshṭra stared at him, its single eye wide with astonishment. "Then... then you must be a portion of some divinity, not a mere man! I think it was for your sake that Shiva did me the honor of laying that command upon me. You are the hero foretold!"

Yamadanshṭra Becomes Vidúshaka's Sworn Brother

The Rákshasa, now understanding the divine plan and acknowledging Vidúshaka's immense power, bowed deeply. "Henceforth," Yamadanshṭra declared, his voice filled with genuine respect, "I consider you my friend. My sworn brother! When you call me to mind, I will appear to you to ensure your success, even in the most difficult situations!"

Vidúshaka, pleased with this turn of events and recognizing the potential of such an ally, accepted the Rákshasa's proposal. Yamadanshṭra, the fearsome demon, then vanished into thin air, leaving Vidúshaka alone with the bewildered princess.

The Second King's Daughter and More Wealth

Vidúshaka spent the rest of the night in high spirits, commended for his valor by the astonished princess. In the morning, King Áryavarman, hearing the incredible tale of the Rákshasa and his daughter's liberation, was highly pleased. He recognized Vidúshaka's extraordinary power and wisdom. "You, noble hero, have once again proven your divine nature!" he exclaimed. "You have won my daughter with your mighty arm, and so, I give her to you, along with much wealth, a fitting banner for your valor!"

Vidúshaka remained in Kárkoṭaka for several nights, living with his new wife as if with the goddess of prosperity herself. She was bound to him, not by magical chains, but by his virtue and courage, unable to move a step without him.

Vidúshaka Longs for Bhadrá and Calls His Rákshasa Friend

Yet, even with two princesses as his wives, Vidúshaka's heart still yearned for Bhadrá, his true beloved. For who, having tasted heavenly joys, can truly take pleasure in any other if their soul's deepest longing remains unfulfilled?

One night, driven by this profound longing, he quietly slipped away from Kárkoṭaka. Once outside the city, he called to mind his new sworn brother, the Rákshasa Yamadanshṭra. The Rákshasa, true to his word, appeared instantly, bowing respectfully before Vidúshaka.

"My friend," Vidúshaka said, "I must go to the land of the Siddhas, on the Eastern Mountain, for the sake of the Vidyadhari named Bhadrá. Do you think you can take me there?"

Journey on the Rákshasa to the Land of the Siddhas

Yamadanshṭra, ever loyal to his sworn brother, replied without hesitation, "Very good, my lord!"

Vidúshaka then climbed onto the Rákshasa's massive shoulder. With the speed of thought, Yamadanshṭra soared into the night sky, carrying Vidúshaka over sixty yojanas (a unit of distance) of difficult country. They traveled through the dark, their journey swift and silent, leaving the earthly realm far below.

Crossing the Uncrossable Śítodá River

In the early morning, as the first light of dawn touched the horizon, they reached a formidable obstacle: the Śítodá, a mythical river renowned for being uncrossable by mortals. Its waters gleamed like molten silver, rushing with an ethereal energy.

But for a Rákshasa, empowered by his brother's divine presence, it was no impediment. Yamadanshṭra crossed the Śítodá without effort, bringing Vidúshaka to the very border of the Land of the Siddhas.

Arrival at the Sunrise Mountain and Dismissing Yamadanshṭra

The Rákshasa gently set Vidúshaka down on solid ground. "Here, noble brother," Yamadanshṭra said, gesturing towards a magnificent peak that pierced the clouds, "is the blessed mountain, called the mountain of the rising sun. It is the home of the Siddhas, and alas, I cannot set foot upon it."

Vidúshaka understood. The realm of the Siddhas, enlightened beings, was sacred, and a Rákshasa, even a redeemed one, could not trespass. He thanked Yamadanshṭra profusely, and dismissing him with a friendly nod, the Rákshasa departed, disappearing into the sky.

The Lake, the Footsteps, and the Water-Drawing Women

Now alone in this sacred land, Vidúshaka beheld a delightful lake. Its waters were pristine, reflecting the azure sky, and its surface was adorned with the faces of full-blown lotuses. The air hummed with the sound of roaming bees, a welcoming chorus to his ears. He sat down on its bank, a sense of peace washing over him.

As he rested, he noticed something on the soft earth near the lake – unmistakable footprints, delicate and graceful, as if made by women. They seemed to point a path, whispering to him, "This is the way to the house of your beloved."

He pondered, "Mortals cannot set foot on this mountain. So, I must wait here and observe, to discover whose footsteps these are."

The Clever Plan: Planting Bhadrá's Ring in the Pitcher

While he waited, his patience was rewarded. Many beautiful women, carrying golden pitchers, emerged from the lush foliage and approached the lake to draw water. They were Vidyadharis, celestial beings, Bhadrá's companions.

After they had filled their pitchers, Vidúshaka courteously addressed them. "Excuse me, beautiful ladies," he asked, his voice gentle and respectful, "For whom are you taking this water?"

One of the women, her eyes shining with celestial grace, replied, "Excellent sir, a Vidyadhari of the name of Bhadrá is dwelling on this mountain. This water is for her daily bath."

A thrill of joy coursed through Vidúshaka. Providence, it seemed, truly favored resolute men who undertook mighty enterprises. All things conspired to serve his ends.

Suddenly, one of the women, struggling with her heavy pitcher, turned to him. "Noble sir," she requested, "Please, would you be so kind as to lift this pitcher onto my shoulder?"

Vidúshaka readily consented. As he lifted the golden pitcher, with a swift, discreet movement, he slipped something precious into the water – the jeweled ring he had received from Bhadrá long ago, a token of their love. He then sat back down by the lake, watching as the women carried their pitchers, unknowingly carrying his message, towards Bhadrá's dwelling.

Bhadrá Recognizes the Ring and Sends for Vidúshaka

The women returned to Bhadrá's abode and began pouring the water of ablution over her. As the water cascaded, the jeweled ring fell into her lap. Bhadrá, seeing it, recognized it instantly. Her heart pounded with a mixture of disbelief and soaring hope.

"Have you seen any stranger about?" she asked her companions, her voice trembling with excitement.

They looked at each other, then replied, "Mistress, we saw a young mortal on the banks of the lake, and he kindly lifted this pitcher for us."

Bhadrá's eyes widened, a radiant smile lighting up her face. "Go!" she commanded, her voice filled with urgency and joy, "Go and make him bathe and adorn himself! Then quickly bring him here, for he is my husband, who has finally arrived in this country!"

The Joyful Reunion of Vidúshaka and Bhadrá

Bhadrá's companions, understanding the significance of her words, rushed back to the lake and found Vidúshaka. They relayed Bhadrá's message, their faces beaming with shared joy. After he had bathed and adorned himself in the finest celestial garments, they escorted him to Bhadrá's presence.

When he arrived, Vidúshaka beheld Bhadrá after their long separation. She was eagerly expecting him, radiant as the ripe, blooming fruit of the tree of his own valor. She rose to meet him, her eyes glistening with tears of joy. Offering him the traditional 'argha' (a respectful offering), metaphorically sprinkling him with her tears, she flung her twining arms around his neck, embracing him like a garland.

As they embraced, their long-accumulated affection seemed to ooze from their limbs in the form of sweat, due to the sheer intensity of their joy. They then sat down, gazing at each other, never satisfied, as if enduring the agony of longing multiplied a hundredfold, now finally satisfied.

Bhadrá Relinquishes Her Magic for Her Husband

Bhadrá, her eyes still brimming with happiness, finally spoke. "My dearest husband, how did you come to this sacred land? Mortals cannot reach these heights!"

Vidúshaka, holding her close, replied, "My love, supported only by my affection for you, I endured many risks to my life to reach you. What more can I say, my fair one, other than that my love for you brought me here?"

Hearing this, seeing the depth of his love, which caused him to disregard even his own life, Bhadrá was deeply moved. "My husband," she said, her voice filled with devotion, "I care not for my friends, nor my magic powers! You are my life, and I am your slave, my lord, bought by you with your virtues!"

The Return Journey with Bhadrá and Calling Yamadanshṭra

Vidúshaka smiled, his heart overflowing. "Then come with me, my beloved," he urged, "to live in Ujjayiní, our home, leaving all this heavenly joy behind."

Bhadrá immediately accepted his proposal. With no more regret than if they had been straw, she instantly gave up all her magic gifts, which departed from her the moment she formed that resolution. She chose mortal love over celestial power.

Vidúshaka rested with her that night, waited on by her friend Yogeśvarí, who understood the profound choice Bhadrá had made. In the morning, the successful hero descended with Bhadrá from the mountain of the sunrise. Once they were clear of the sacred realm, Vidúshaka once again called to mind the Rákshasa Yamadanshṭra.

True to his word, the Rákshasa appeared the moment he was thought of. Vidúshaka told him the direction of their journey, and then, after placing Bhadrá comfortably on Yamadanshṭra's broad shoulder, he too ascended. Bhadrá, though a celestial nymph, patiently endured being placed on the shoulder of a rather loathsome Rákshasa; for what will women not do when mastered by affection?

Collecting the King's Daughter from Kárkoṭaka

Mounted on the Rákshasa, with his beloved Bhadrá by his side, Vidúshaka set out. They swiftly returned to the city of Kárkoṭaka. The sight of the monstrous Rákshasa, carrying Vidúshaka and a beautiful woman, inspired fear and astonishment among the city's inhabitants.

Vidúshaka, ignoring the terrified murmurs, went directly to King Áryavarman. He formally demanded his daughter, the princess he had won with his arm. The king, honoring his word and still grateful, surrendered his daughter to Vidúshaka. With his second princess now accompanying him, Vidúshaka departed from Kárkoṭaka in the same grand style, mounted on the Rákshasa.

Confrontation with the Wicked Merchant Skandhadása

After traveling some distance, they reached the shore of the sea. There, by a twist of fate, Vidúshaka spotted him – the wicked merchant Skandhadása, the man who had betrayed him and cut the ropes, leaving him for dead in the ocean.

A cold, righteous anger stirred within Vidúshaka. He directed Yamadanshṭra to descend.

Seizing the Merchant's Daughter and Wealth

Vidúshaka confronted the merchant. "You, vile betrayer!" he thundered, his voice resonating with power. "You thought to escape justice, to save your paltry wealth by sacrificing a life! But fate has a way of balancing the scales!"

He then took the merchant's daughter, the one he had won as a reward for setting the ship free, along with all of Skandhadása's wealth. He considered depriving that villain of his ill-gotten gains as a punishment equivalent to putting him to death, for groveling souls often value their hoards more than their very lives. The merchant, stripped of his fortune and his daughter, was left a broken man.

Flying Through the Air on the Rákshasa Chariot

Mounted once more on the Rákshasa, now transformed into a magnificent aerial chariot, Vidúshaka ascended into the heavens. With his three beautiful wives – Bhadrá, the princess of Kárkoṭaka, and the merchant's daughter – he journeyed through the air.

He crossed the vast ocean, which, like his valor, was full of boisterous impetuosity, exhibiting its magnificent expanse to his fair ones. They gazed down at the shimmering waters, then up at the endless sky, marveling at the hero who had conquered both land and sea, and even the demonic realm.

Arrival at Pauṇḍravardhana and Greeting His First Wife

Their celestial journey brought them back to the city of Pauṇḍravardhana. The sight of Vidúshaka, riding a colossal Rákshasa, accompanied by three radiant women, drew astonished gasps from all who beheld him. The entire city turned out, marveling at the spectacle.

Vidúshaka descended, surrounded by his beautiful consorts. There, he was greeted by his first wife, the daughter of King Devasena, Princess Mandakini, who had long desired his arrival. She ran to him, tears of joy streaming down her face, her longing finally satisfied. He had won her by defeating the Rákshasa, and now he had returned, a true king.

Though her father, King Devasena, tried to detain him, wishing him to remain as his son-in-law and heir, Vidúshaka's heart longed for his native land. He graciously declined, promising to visit, and then took Princess Mandakini with him, ready to set out for Ujjayiní.

The Final Journey Home to Ujjayiní

With the unparalleled speed of the Rákshasa, Vidúshaka, his three wives, and his loyal demon companion continued their journey. The monstrous form of Yamadanshṭra covered immense distances in mere moments, traversing mountains and valleys as if they were but ripples on a pond.

The journey was swift, a testament to the Rákshasa's power and Vidúshaka's urgency to reach his home. Each passing mile brought him closer to the place of his origin, the city of Ujjayiní.

Vidúshaka's Triumphant Arrival on the Rákshasa

Finally, they reached Ujjayiní. The city appeared like his immense satisfaction at beholding his home, manifested in visible form. The citizens looked up, then gasped, then stared in utter disbelief. Vidúshaka was seen perched atop that huge Rákshasa, whose vast frame was illuminated by the radiant beauty of his wives, seated upon his shoulder, much like the moon rising over the eastern mountain with gleaming herbs on its summit.

The people of Ujjayiní were astonished and terrified by the sight of the colossal demon. News quickly reached King Ádityasena, Vidúshaka's father-in-law (through his unmentioned marriage that preceded these adventures), who, upon hearing the incredible reports, went out from the city with his retinue to investigate.

Meeting King Ádityasena and Releasing the Rákshasa

When Vidúshaka saw King Ádityasena, he quickly descended from the Rákshasa. After prostrating himself respectfully before the king, he approached him. King Ádityasena, though bewildered, welcomed him warmly, overjoyed to see his son-in-law returned.

Vidúshaka then caused all his wives to come down from the shoulder of the Rákshasa. With a final, grateful nod to Yamadanshṭra, he released him, giving him leave to wander where he would, his duty to Vidúshaka fulfilled. Yamadanshṭra bowed one last time and vanished, a faithful companion returning to his own realm.

Telling the King the Complete Story

After the Rákshasa had departed, Vidúshaka, accompanied by his wives, entered the king's palace together with his father-in-law. There, he delighted his first wife, the daughter of King Ádityasena, who had suffered long during his absence, by his triumphant return.

The king, still processing the extraordinary events, asked, "My dear son, how did you obtain these wives? And who was that immense Rákshasa?"

Vidúshaka, with a modest smile, then recounted his entire incredible story – from the cursed princess of Pauṇḍravardhana, to his encounter with Yamadanshṭra, his journey across the ocean, the wicked merchant's betrayal, the Fire-god's blessing, the second cursed princess of Kárkoṭaka, the reunion with Bhadrá, and their epic return.

Vidúshaka Becomes King of Half the Kingdom

King Ádityasena listened, utterly captivated by the marvelous tale. He was immensely pleased with his son-in-law's unparalleled valor, wisdom, and resourcefulness. Recognizing Vidúshaka's true capabilities and knowing what was expedient for the prosperity of his kingdom, he made a momentous decision.

He declared, "Vidúshaka, my son, your deeds are those of a true monarch. I grant you half of my kingdom!"

Immediately, Vidúshaka, though a Bráhman by birth, ascended to the mighty rank of a king. He was formally invested with the symbols of royalty, including a lofty white umbrella and chowries (fly-whisks) waving on both sides of him, signifying his sovereign status.

A Happy Reign with His Wives and Conquest of Earth

The city of Ujjayiní erupted in joyous celebration. The sound of festive drums and music filled the air, mingled with shouts of delight from the grateful populace. Vidúshaka, the hero, the scholar, the adventurer, had become their king.

Thus, he obtained the mighty rank of a king. And, through his wisdom, strength, and the fortune that favored him, he gradually conquered the whole earth, so that his foot was worshipped by all kings. With Bhadrá as his beloved consort, and content with her, he lived long in happiness with all his wives, who, having abandoned jealousy in their shared admiration for their extraordinary husband, lived in harmony.

Vidúshaka's story became a legend, a testament to the truth that resolute men, when fortune favors them, find their own valor a great and successful charm that forcibly draws prosperity towards them.

When the King of Vatsa finished narrating this varied tale, full of marvelous incidents, to his ministers and his two wives, who were sitting by his side, all of them experienced excessive delight, their hearts filled with wonder and inspiration.

Monday, October 20, 2025

Katha Sarit Sagara : Chapter 18