23TheThreeSonsOfGovind
Somdev Bhatt 11th Century. Original in
Sanskrit.
English Translation: C. A. KINCAID, c. v. o.
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Background. "Vikram Aur
Betaal" is a series of enchanting tales derived from the
11th-century work 'Betaal Pachisi' by Kashmiri poet Somdev Bhatt. The
narrative follows the wise and adventurous King Vikramaditya of Ujjain.
When a mendicant consistently gifts him fruits containing rubies, the
king's curiosity is piqued. Meeting the mendicant under specific, eerie
conditions, Vikramaditya learns of a task only he can perform: to
retrieve a corpse, Betaal, from an ancient tree for the mendicant's
mystical rituals. As King Vikramaditya carries the corpse, Betaal's spirit tells him tales, concluding each with a riddle. If Vikramaditya knows the answer but stays silent, his head will shatter. But answering breaks his vow, and Betaal returns to the tree, making the king restart his mission. After 25 stories, Betaal reveals the mendicant's ulterior motive: to gain unparalleled powers by sacrificing the king. Forewarned by Betaal, Vikramaditya confronts the mendicant and, through his wit, triumphs over the deceitful ascetic. |
THE TWENTY-THIRD TALE THE THREE SONS OF GOVIND
ONCE upon a time when King Dharmatma was ruling in Dharmapur there lived
in it a Brahman called Govind who knew the four sacred books by heart
and the six sciences. He was well versed also in faith, doctrine and
ritual. He had four sons called Haridatta, Somadatta, Yadnyadatta and
Brahmadatta. They too, were studious and learned and they always did
what their father told them. One day the eldest son died. Through grief
at his death Govind fell so sick that he was on the point of death also.
Vishnuswami, the king's priest, hearing of this went to lecture him.
"Man," he said, "is born to sorrow. In his childhood he plays; in his
youth he finds happiness in love. In old age he suffers pain because of
the decay of his body. To the dwellers in this world are given many
sorrows and few joys. This world is but the seed of the tree of sorrow.
Though a man sit on the top of a tree, or the peak of a mountain, or
descend into hell, or hide under the water, or conceal himself in an
iron cage, yet he shall not escape death. Wise men and fools, rich and
poor, the learned, the strong, the weak death strikes them all down. A
man's life is at most a hundred years. Half of it passes at night. Of
the other half a half is spent uselessly in childhood and old age. The
rest is wasted in disputes, in separations, in envy, in sorrow, in
vanities and vain intrigues. Life is like a ripple
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on water. What happiness then can a man get from it? True men in this
Kaliyuga are hard to find. Daily we see countries decay. Kings are
covetous and the earth yields but scant fruits. Thieves and wicked men
trouble us overmuch. Religion, penance and truth are hardly to be found.
Monarchs are without righteousness. Brahmans are corrupt, men are
uxorious, women are untrue, sons revile their fathers. And of the rest
why speak? Friends plot against friends and all men hate one another.
Because of their irreligion men's lives have become wretched.
Death did not spare Abhimanyu*
although he had Krishna for an uncle and Arjuna for a father.
When death is so strong, it is folly for men to hunger after happiness.
When death takes away a man, he has to leave his wealth behind him in
his house. His father, mother, brother and wife seize it and say, "His
body is burdening the earth; let us take it quickly to the burning
ground." Then he who used to sleep on a couch, sweet with the perfume of
flowers, is stretched upon dry wood and burnt or else buried in the
ground. And with him die alike his virtues and his vices. When the night
has passed, the day appears; when the moon has set, the sun rises; when
youth is gone, old age comes and when old age passes, there comes death.
In this way the wheel of time revolves; yet although Man sees it all he
grows no wiser. Behold! in the Satyayuga
* Abhimanyu was the son of Arjuna and Subhadra, Krishna's
sister. Abhimanyu fell in the battle of Kurukshetra (see Indian Heroes).
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there lived a famous king called
Mandhata* the renown of
whose virtue and valour filled the whole earth. In the Tretayuga lived
the divine Ramchandra who built a bridge across the ocean; who destroyed
Lanka and killed Ravan. In the Dwaparayuga ruled King Yudhishthira of
whose victories men still sing. Yet, my friend, Death spared none of
them. The birds that soar in the sky, the fishes that live in the deeps
of the sea all alike fall into the jaws of death. No one who has yet
lived on earth has escaped sorrow. It is therefore fruitless to mourn.
It is far better to practise righteousness and to repent, remembering
that if one sorrow has come, many others are sure to follow." In this
way Vishnuswami exhorted Govind. The latter reflected that it was
useless to sit and mourn idly and that it would be better to do
something by which he could acquire merit. He called his sons and said,
"My sons, I am about to begin a sacrifice. Bring me a tortoise from the
sea." As he ordered, his sons went to the seashore and gave a fisherman
a rupee to catch a tortoise. When he had caught one, the three brothers
instead of taking it to their father began to quarrel among
*
King Mandhata was the son of King Yuvanaswa. He was the father of
Purukutsa the founder of the house of Ayodhya in which was born the
divine hero Ramchandra. King Mandhata having conquered all the earth
conceived the impious idea of conquering all heaven also. But Indra sent
against him a demon called Yavanasura who defeated and slew him.
142 Tales of King Vikrama
themselves, one said, "I am a great judge of cookery. If I touch the
tortoise, it will make my hands smell". The second said, " If you are a
great judge of cookery, yet I am no fool either. I am a great judge of
the fair sex. Therefore, I shall not demean myself by touching the
tortoise". The eldest son said, "I am a great judge of beds and
therefore, I shall not touch the tortoise". In the end they left the
tortoise and quarrelling all the way went to lay their case before the
king. The sentry announced to the king that three Brahmans had come to
lay a case before him. The king sent for them and asked, "What is your
dispute?" The youngest brother said, "Great King! I am a great judge of
cookery". The second brother said, "O Lord of the earth, I am a great
judge of the fair sex". The eldest brother said, "O incarnation of
Yudhisthira! I am a great judge of beds. We are quarrelling as to who is
the cleverest among us. Decide between us, we pray you". The king
replied, "You must each display before me your talents". "Very well,"
agreed the brothers. The king gave orders that various kinds of foods
and dishes should be got ready. The cook prepared a banquet and placed
it before him who was a great judge of cookery. As he lifted the first
mouthful to his lips, he noticed a bad smell; he threw away the food,
washed his hands and went to the king. " O reverend sir," said the king,
"did you not like your meal?" "Great King," replied the Brahman, "I
should have enjoyed it greatly, had the food not smelt bad". "But what
The three sons of Govind 143
made it smell?" asked the king.
"Great King," answered the Brahman, "the rice was grown in a burning
ground and so it smells of dead bodies". The king sent for his
store-keeper and asked him from what village the rice had come. "Great
King," said the storekeeper, " the rice came from Shilapuri". The king
sent for the headman of Shilapuri and asked him in what field the rice
had grown. "Great King," said the headman, "the rice grew in a
cultivated part of the burning ground". When the king heard this, he
said to the Brahman, "Yes, indeed! you are a great judge of cookery".
Next he sent a beautiful woman to the judge of the fair sex and peeped
through a hole in the door to see what he would do. After they had
talked together some time, the Brahman turned his back on her. When the
king saw this, he went to his own room. Next morning the king sent for
the Brahman and said, " Well ; what did you think of the lady?" "I did
not admire her at all," said the Brahman. "But why?" asked the king.
"Because," said the Brahman, "she smelt of goats". The king sent for his
attendant and asked him whence he had brought the woman, and whence she
had come, and who she was. "She is my sister's daughter," said the
attendant, "her mother died when she was three months old, and I brought
her up on goat's milk". When the king heard this, he said to the
Brahman, "Yes; you are certainly a great judge of the fair sex". Next
the king had a number of beautiful soft mattresses placed on a bed and
bade him who
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