The Story of Devavrata

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Last week I told the Welsh story of Llyn y Fan Fach – the mountain lake which was home to the fairy of medical knowledge and who became the mother of a long line of famous Welsh healers. In that post I had noted that when I read that story it immediately reminded me of another legend, but one of a different time and place. So, here it is. This story is from the early chapters of the Indian epic poem the Mahabharata – a family feud of five millennia ago that was also a battle of darkness and light. The parallels between the two legends I find to be chilling.

 

One day, King Shantanu, scion of the Lunar Dynasty, was walking by the Ganges River when he saw an incredibly beautiful maiden, whose superhuman loveliness intoxicated his senses. The king was so enamoured by her beauty that he at once asked her to marry him. He put his heart, love, his entire kingdom and wealth, his very life itself, at her feet when he made this request.

The maiden replied to the king, “O king, I shall become your wife. But I will do so only under three conditions: (1) that neither you nor anyone else should ever ask me who I am or from whence I come; (2) you must not stand in the way of whatever I do, good or bad, nor must you ever be wroth with me on any account whatsoever; and (3) you must not say anything displeasing to me. If you act otherwise, I shall leave you then and there. Do you agree to these conditions?

The infatuated king vowed his assent. Soon afterwards, the mysterious maiden became his wife and lived with him as queen.

The heart of king Shantanu was captivated by his wife’s modesty and grace and the steady love that she bore him. The royal couple lived a life of perfect happiness, oblivious to the passage of time.

In due time they were blessed with a newborn son.

When the child was born, the queen took to the child to the shore of the Ganges River and cast it into water – immediately drowning and killing the newborn. She then walked back to her kingdom with a smile on her face. Shantanu was aghast with horror. He could not believe what he had just seen but he stopped himself from asking his queen any question, mindful of the promise he made to her. He wanted to ask, but he dared not.

As the years passed, the queen gave birth to six more children and each one she cast into the river as soon as it was born and killed it. Shantanu, grieved as he was, asked no question and bore the pain with restraint as he had given his plighted word. He often wondered who she was, wherefrom she had come and why she acted like a murderous witch; yet he still loved her deeply as she was the paragon of feminine virtue in every other respect and was still flawlessly beautiful.

When the eighth child was born and the queen was about to throw it into the Ganges, Shantanu could not restrain himself any longer.

He cried to her, “Stop, stop! You heartless woman. Why do you do this wretched act? Why do you what no mother would? You are as insane as you are beautiful.” With this outburst, he also restrained the queen on her murderous mission.

“O great king,” she replied, “you have forgotten your promise, for your heart is set on your child, and you do not need me anymore. I go. I shall not kill this child but first listen to my story before you judge me. I, who am constrained to play this hateful role by the curse of the great sage Vasishtha, am the goddess Ganga, adored by gods and men. Vasishtha cursed the eight Vasus to be born in the world of men, and moved by their supplications said, I was to be their mother.

[Time for a detour! The Mahabharata is famous not only for stories-within stories, but even stories-within-stories-within stories! Time to explore the background story of the eight Vasus. In Hinduism, the Vasus are attendant deities of Indra, king of the gods. The name ‘Vasu’ means 'Dweller' or 'Dwelling'. They are the eight elemental gods representing aspects of nature and are numbered among the thirty-three gods of Hinduism. Their names and respective meanings are: Anala, which means “living” or “The Fire”; Dhara, which means “support” or “ The Earth”; Anila, which means “The Wind”; Aha, which means “Space”; Pratyusha, which means “light” or “The Sun”; Prabhasa, which means “The Sky”; Soma, which means “The Moon”; and Dhruva, which means “The Stars”.]

Ganga continued: “One day, these eight Vasus were traveling on a holiday with their wives when they came across Sage Vasishta’s ashram. Outside the ashram, they saw “Nandini”, Vasishta’s divine cow. One of the wives was taken in so much by the beauty of the cow, that she requested her husband, Prabhasa, to bring the cow to her. Prabhasa replied ‘Dear, we are gods. What use do we have for cows or cow’s milk? Even though it is Nandini, whose milk gives everlasting life, we are already enjoying immortality on account of being gods. Most importantly, Sage Vasishta is very fond of Nandini, and it would be improper on our part to violate his integrity.’ Despite many attempts by Prabhasa, his wife did not yield. She made imploring requests and melted Prabhasa ‘s heart. He agreed and thus, the eight Vasus took Nandini and her calf by force and disappeared before Vasishta returned to the ashram.

“When Vasishta returned and found Nandini missing, he, through his divine vision, saw all that had happened and cursed the eight Vasus to be born as mortal humans in this world. And for a god, who enjoys all pleasures and immortal life in the heavens, to be born in this world and live the life of a man with the pain and suffering we go through in a lifetime is a horrible experience.

“When the eight Vasus came to know of this curse, they ran to Vasishta and fell at his feet asking for his forgiveness. Vasishta said that the curse cannot be lifted and has to follow its course. But the effect of the curse can be reduced. He said to them, ‘Go request goddess Ganga to be your mother on earth and ask her to relieve you of your birth as soon as you are born so that you may return to the heavens without long years of suffering.’ I grant this softening of the curse to the seven of you who supported Prabhasa in his act of stealing. However, since Prabhasa was the one who actually stole the cow, the curse will remain in full effect for him, and he will have to live his full lifetime on earth like a man. But he will live a great life and be regarded as one of the best souls to have ever walked the earth. Saying this, Vasishta went back into meditation.

“Relieved to hear this, the Vasus approached me and requested me to be their mother on earth and throw them into the river as soon as they are born. I agreed and came to earth and became your wife to carry out this task.

“I bore them to you, and well is it for you that it was so, for you will go to higher regions for this service that you have done to the eight Vasus. I shall bring up this last child of yours for some time and then return it to you as my gift.”

After saying these words, the goddess disappeared with the newborn child.

After this catastrophic change in his life, King Shantanu gave up all sensual pleasures, and he ruled the kingdom as an ascetic. But one day, while walking along the banks of the Ganges River, he saw a young boy who shone like a resplendent god. The child was amusing himself by casting a dam of arrows across the Ganges in flood, playing with the mighty river as a child would with his indulgent mother. Standing still in amazement at this sight, the king saw the goddess Ganga reveal herself to him. And she spoke thus:

“O king, this is that eighth child that I bore you. I have brought him up till now. His name is Devavrata. He has mastered the art of arms and already equals in prowess the greatest warriors of this age. He has learned the Vedas and other sacred teachings from the sage Vasishta and is well versed in the arts and sciences known to Shukra [the god Venus]. Take back with you this child who is a great archer and hero as well as a master of statecraft. Then Ganga blessed the boy, and after handing him over to his father, she disappeared.

King Shantanu was overjoyed with this turn of events and soon declared the youthful prince Devavrata to be the crown prince.

Four years passed by. One day as the king was wandering on the banks of the Yamuna River, he smelled a fragrance so divinely sweet that he sought for its source; after some searching, he traced it to a maiden so lovely that she seemed to be a goddess. A sage had conferred on this girl the boon that a divine perfume should emanate from her, and this fragrance was now pervading the whole riverside and forest surrounding it.

From the moment that the goddess Ganga had left him, the king had kept his senses under control – but the sight of this divinely beautiful maiden burst the bonds of restraint and filled him with an overmastering desire. On the spot, he asked her to be his wife.

The maiden said to the king, “I am a fisherwoman, the daughter of the chief of the fishermen. May it please you, Sire, to ask him and get his consent.”

King Shantanu went to the chief of the fisherman, who was an astute man. He said to the king, “O king, there is no doubt that this maiden, like every other, has to be married to someone and you are indeed worthy of her. Still, you have to make a promise to me before you can have her as your wife.”

Shantanu replied, “If it is a just promise, I shall make it.”

The chief of the fisherfolk said, “The child born of this maiden should be the king after you.”

Though almost mad with passion, the king could not make this promise, as it meant setting aside the godlike Devavrata, the son of Ganga, who was entitled to the crown. It was a price that could not be thought of without shame. Shantanu therefore returned to his capital, sick with baffled desire. He did not reveal the matter to anyone and languished in silence.

Devavrata noticed the change in his father’s demeanour and one day asked him, “My father, you have all that one’s heart could wish. Why then are you unhappy? How is it that you are like one pining away with a secret sorrow?”

The king replied, “Dear son, what you say is true. I am indeed tortured with mental pain and anxiety. You are my only son, and you are always preoccupied with military ambitions. Life in this world is uncertain and wars are incessant. If anything untoward befalls you, our family dynasty will go extinct. Of course, you are equal to a hundred sons. Still, those who are well-read in the scriptures say that in this transitory world having but one son is the same as having no son at all. It is not proper that the perpetuation of our family should depend on a single life, and above all I desire the perpetuation of our family. This is the cause of my anguish.” The father prevaricated, being ashamed to reveal the whole story to his son.

But Devavrata was wise and resourceful. He realized that there must be a secret cause for his father’s poor mental state and questioning the king’s charioteer, came to know of his meeting with the fisher-maiden on the banks of the Yamuna River. He went to the chief of the fishermen and besought his daughter’s hand on his father’s behalf.

The chief of the fishermen was respectful but firm to the prince. He said, “My daughter is indeed fit to be the king’s spouse; then should not her son become king? But you have been crowned as the heir-apparent and will naturally succeed your father. It is this that stands in the way.”

Devavrata replied, “I give you my word that the son born of this maiden shall be king, and I renounce in his favour my right as heir apparent.”

The chief of the fisherman said, “O best of the Bharata race! You have done what no one else born of royal blood has done till now. You are indeed a hero. You can yourself conduct my daughter to the king, your father. Still, hear with patience these words of mine which I say as the father of the girl. I have no doubt that you will keep your word – but how can I hope that the children born of you will renounce their birthright? Your sons will naturally be mighty heroes like you and will be hard to resist if they seek to seize the kingdom by force. This is the doubt that torments me.”

When he heard this knotty question posed by the fisher-maiden’s father, Devavrata, who was bent on fulfilling his father’s desire above everything else, made his supreme renunciation. With arms upraised to the father of the maiden, he declared, “I shall never marry and I dedicate myself to a life of unbroken chastity.”

As Devavrata uttered these words of renunciation, the gods showered flowers on his head and the air reverberated with the word “Bhishma! Bhishma!” (‘Bhishma’ means one who undertakes a terrible vow and fulfills it) From that day forth the prince was known by the name of Bhishma. This son of Ganga then led the fisher-maiden Satyavati to his father.

Soon afterwards king Shantanu wed Satyavati and in due course, two sons were born of them. The Lunar Dynasty was secured.

Bhishma maintained his terrible vow throughout his extremely long life and served as chief advisor to three generations of the royal line. He fought as a general in the Mahabharata war that raged between the two clans of his grand-nephews (the Kauravas and the Pandavas). Near the end of the war, Bhishma was pierced by so many arrows that he looked for all the world like a porcupine; and when he fell, he lay upon a bed of the arrows that had pierced him. But Bhishma had been given the boon of dying at the time of his choice – and he chose to die on the day when the Sun turns northward, indicating that those who die will be able to break the chain of reincarnation. However, doing so meant that he had to lie on that bed of arrows in the middle of the battlefield for 46 days, with an arrow for a pillow, stoically bearing the agony of his innumerable injuries, and consuming nothing but water. And while waiting for the day to die, he gave blessings, words of wisdom and advice to the victorious Pandavas after the war finished; and he taught them some sacred verses (the Thousand Names of Vishnu) for the sake of mankind, which are recited in India by millions to this day.

 

The Story of Devavrata and The Maiden of Llyn y Fan Fach: two different legends, separated by so much time and space; so different in details, but so similar in essence! How can this be? No doubt some scholars have tried their utmost to delineate some ancient cross-cultural exchange between the Celts and the Indians of old. I have read of such things, including claims that the ancient book of Hindu laws (the Manu Smriti) and the oldest known code of Irish laws are nearly identical, but I have not bothered to try to verify it. Even if true, I find such scholarship to be tedious and tendentious. Besides, if I looked carefully enough, no doubt I would find some similar legend from other parts of the world!

No doubt there are other scholars out there who are more than happy to explain what these variations on a theme of human male interacts with a female water-spirit who imposes strict marriage conditions and then bolts when such conditions are inevitably violated, but graces humanity with some super-human “really” means. And, depending on the scholar’s point of view (or hobby horse, as the case may be) some logical explanation will be given. To be honest, I find the scholastic habit of vivisecting myths and legends to be violent and unnatural.

In my opinion, these traditional stories are meant to be closely read or listened to, reflected upon, learned “by heart” (which is not the same as “by memory”) and incorporated into one’s character. The fact that they have stood the test of time means that there are great truths contained in them, like burning embers cloaked in the ash of a fire. But if one removes the ember, it quickly turns cold and dark. I like to keep them “burning” in situ, where they belong, and warm myself with them. The fact that these old stories echo across the traditional cultures around the world tells me that they teach essential lessons of what it is to be human and also record situations in which interactions with some kinds of powerful and intelligent beings – who always play by their own rules – sometimes result in the birth of a cultural hero. Beyond that, I keep my intellect out of this. Besides, a world without beautiful, unsolvable mysteries would be an intolerable place to live in!