Canto XVI - Anasūyā’s gain of a boon

The father asks Jaḍa for instruction on yoga or religious devotion—Jaḍa begins a long exposition, which starts with a story of Anasūyā—A certain brahman was cursed by Māṇḍavya at night that he should die at sunrise, and his devoted wife restrained the sun from rising—All activity ceased, and the gods in alarm besought Atri’s wife Anasūyā—At her exhortation the wife relents, the sun rises, and the brahman dies, but is restored to life by Anasūyā—Anasūyā obtains from the gods the boon that Brahmā, Viṣṇu and Śiva should be born her sons, and that she should attain yoga.

The father spoke:

Thou hast declared to me, O son, the established nature of mundane existence which should be shunned exceedingly, a nature which is immutable like the rope and bucket at a well. I have thus then learnt it in its entirety such as it is. Say, what must I do in this thus-ordained mundane existence ?

The son spoke:

If, O father, thou dost believe my word implicitly, then abandoning thy condition as a house-holder become a distinguished hermit. Following that vocation according to precept, forsaking thy fire and possessions, directing thy soul towards the Supreme Soul, indifferent in regard to the various opposites,^[1] relinquishing thy property, become a mendicant, eating only every other meal, subdued in soul, unwearied, grown intent on religious devotion,^[2] withdrawn from contact with external things. Thereafter thou shalt attain to that religious devotion,—which is the cure for connexion with pain, the cause of final emancipation from existence, incomparable, unutterable, devoid of worldly attachments; through connexion with that devotion thou wilt never again have union with living beings.

The father spoke:

My son, tell me next of yoga, or religions devotion, the cause of final emancipation from existence; by which I may escape such suffering as this, when I am again born among living beings. Since I am intent on attachments, and my soul does not by reason of the bonds of mundane existence attain to religious devotion, being itself even devoid of religious devotion,^[3] speak now of that religious devotion. Sprinkle with the water of thy words, which are cool with the water of the knowledge of Brahma, me whose body and mind are disordered with pain through the heat of the sun of mundane existence. Re-vivify with the draught of the nectar of thy words me, who am bitten by the black serpent of ignorance, who am in anguish from its venom, and dead. Hasting with the keys of the knowledge of approved goodness, liberate me, who am galled by the chains of selfishness in the matter of son, wife, home and land.

The son spoke:

Listen, dear father! how of yore the wise Dattātreya, when duly questioned, expounded the system of religions devotion at length to Alarka.^[4]

The father spoke:

Whose son was Dattātreya? Again, how did he discourse about religions meditation? And who was the distinguished Alarka, who enquired concerning religious meditation?

The son spoke:

There was a certain Kauśika brāhman in the town Prati-ṣṭhāna; he by reason of sins committed in other births was diseased with leprosy. His wife used to honour him her husband, thus diseased, as a god, by anointing his feet, kneading his limbs, bathing, clothing, and feeding him, and by cleansing the flow of mucus, blood etcetera, and with attendance in private, and with affectionate conversation. Though always exceedingly venerated by that modest lady, he being harsh continually menaced her by reason of his excessively fiery temper. Nevertheless his wife, bowing before him, used to esteem him a divinity;^[5] nevertheless she used to esteem him, who was extremely loathful, as superior to all.

Being also of a constantly roaming disposition, the brāhman ordered his wife—“Do thou bring me to her dwelling. Procure for me that courtezan whom I saw living in her house in the high-way, O religious one; she indeed dwells in my heart. I saw the maiden at sunrise, and here is night come upon us. She does not depart from my heart, ever since I saw her. If she, lovely in every limb, with large hips and swelling breasts and slender body, does not embrace me, then thou wilt indeed behold me die. Beautiful is love among mankind; and she is courted by many; and I am unable to go; it appears perplexing to me.”

Then having heard that speech of her husband who was sick with love, she his consort, sprung of a high family, very virtuous, faithful to her husband, gathered a compact retinue, and took abundance of money, and bearing her husband on her shoulder, moved on, slow in her gait, along the high road, in the cloud-covered night, while the sky was revealed by the fitful lightning; for the brāhman lady was desirous of doing her husband pleasure.

And on the road, the brāhman, while borne on his wife’s shoulder, through fear of thieves in the darkness pushed away Māṇḍavya, who was no thief and who was afflicted with grievous pain, being impaled on a stake. Enraged at the brush with a foot, Māṇḍavya addressed him—“He, who has with his foot pushed me away who am thus exceedingly afflicted, he sinful in soul, base among men, has gotten a miserable condition. At sunrise, helpless, he shall be bereft of life assuredly: at the sight of the sun indeed he shall perish.” Thereupon his wife hearing that most cruel curse, exclaimed distressed—“The sun verily shall not arise!”

Then the sun failed to rise, and there was continual night for many lengths of day. Thereupon the gods grew afraid, fearing “How indeed should not all this universe pass into dissolution, when the Vedas are not uttered, and when it is deprived of oblations with fire and of the Svadhā and Svāhā? Without the ordinance of day and night, there is an end of months and seasons: and again from the cessation of these south and north are not known in the sun’s half yearly course. And without knowledge of the half yearly course where would be time, such as the year? Without the year no other knowledge of time exists. By reason of the utterance of that devoted wife, the sun rises not: without the sun’s rising, bathing giving of gifts and the other actions can not indeed exist; nor indeed does the fire spread, and sacrifices are seen to cease; nor indeed do we get satisfaction without the homa sacrifice. Mortals satisfy us with the appropriate shares of the sacrifices: we favour mortals with rain for the perfecting of their grain and other crops. When plants have ripened, mortals sacrifice to us with sacrifices; worshipped in their sacrifices &c., we bestow on them their desires. For we pour rain downwards, and mortals make their rain ascend; for we rain with showers of water, men with showers of clarified butter. And evil-minded men, who do not give us the periodical sacrifices,^[6] being greedy eat themselves our share of the sacrifice. We defile the water, the sun, fire and the winds, and the earth for the destruction of those mischievous sinners. Through partaking of bad water &c., very dire portents work towards the death of those doers of evil deeds. But to those high-souled men, who after delighting us consume the remainder themselves, let us allot the blissful worlds. Therefore all this universe of a truth does not exist, unless these things increase and endure. How indeed may the days be liberated?” —so conversed the gods with one another.

Having heard the speech of these assembled gods who were fearful of the destruction of the sacrifices, the god Brahmā spoke, “Majesty is subdued by majesty indeed, and austerities also by austerities, O ye immortals! Hearken therefore to my advice. Through the might of the faithful wife the sun does not rise, and from his not rising loss befalls mortals and you. Hence do ye, through desire that the sun should rise, propitiate Atri’s faithful wife Anasūyā who is rich in austerities.”

The son spoke:

She, propitiated by them when they resorted to her, said “Let your wish be asked for.” The gods petitioned for day, saying “Let it be as before!”

Anasūyā spoke:

“The might of a faithful wife may not be lost in any wise. Hence while honouring that good lady, I will liberate the day, O ye gods! that day and night may again exist, and that that good lady’s own husband shall not perish.”

The son spoke:

Thus having addressed the gods, she the beautiful went to her temple, and being asked by that lady regarding the welfare and righteousness of her husband, spoke.

Anasūyā spoke:

“Perchance thou rejoicest, O blessed lady, at the sight of thy husband’s countenance! Perchance too thou esteemest thy husband far above all the gods! Through obedience indeed to my husband I have gained a great reward; through the obtainment of the results of every wish obstacles have been removed. Five debts a man must ever discharge, O virtuous lady. Thus, he must amass wealth according to the duties of his own caste: and he must next apply the wealth gained to a fitting object according to the precepts: he should always live full of compassion, observing truth, candour, austerities and liberality: and he must daily perform the ceremonies prescribed by the Śāstras and free from anger and enmity, with faith preceding, according to his ability. A man with great pain gradually obtains the worlds specially allotted to his own caste, such as that of the Prajāpatis and other worlds, O virtuous lady. So women by obedience to their husbands obtain half of the entire merit painfully earned by their husbands. There is no separate sacrifice for women, nor śrāddha, nor fasting: for by obedience to their husbands indeed they reach these desired worlds. Therefore, O virtuous and exalted lady, let thy mind ever be turned towards obedience to thy husband, since a husband is a wife's supreme bliss. Whatever worship the husband may offer by right ceremonies to the gods, and whatever to the pitṛs and guests, even one half of that does the wife, whose mind is centred on him alone, enjoy by very obedience to her husband.”

The son spoke:

Having heard that her speech, the lady saluted Atri’s wife Anasūyā respectfully in return, and replied thus to her—“Happy am I, favoured am I, and regarded by the gods am I, since thou, O lady blessed by nature, again increasest my faith. I know this—none among women has a condition equal with her husband, and love for him tends to her benefit in this world and the next; through her husband’s favour both here and after death, O illustrious lady, a woman gains happiness; for a husband is a woman’s deity. Do thou, being such a woman, O exalted lady, tell me who have reached thy temple, what I, a noble^[7] woman, must do, or what my noble husband must do, O beauteous one!”

Anasūyā spoke:

“Indra and these gods in distress have approached me; they are searching for the day and night, the virtuous acts prescribed for which have been discarded in consequence of thy speech. They beg for the natural uninterrupted continuance of day and night: I am come for that object, and do thou listen to this my speech. Through the absence of day there is the absence of all sacrificial ceremonies; through the absence of these the gods do not get their nourishment, O ascetic lady. Through the destruction of day also all work is cut short; from the destruction thereof the world will perish through drought. Therefore if thou desirest to deliver this world from calamity, be gracious, O virtuous lady, to the worlds; let the sun run his course as before.”

The brāhman lady spoke:

“Māṇḍavya exceedingly furious, O illustrious lady, has cursed my lord, saying ‘at sunrise thou shalt meet thy doom!’”

Anasūyā spoke:

“If, however, it pleases thee, O lady, then at thy word I will make thee even a new husband, in form the same as before. For I must in every way propitiate the majesty of faithful wives, O high-born lady —thus I do thee honour.”

The son spoke:

On her saying ‘be it so!’ the ascetic lady Anasūyā then summoned the sun, raising up the arghya oblation, at midnight on the tenth night. Then the adorable sun, in appearance ruddy as the full-blown lotus flower, with wide disc, rose aloft above the mighty mountain. Forthwith indeed her husband was bereft of life and fell on the ground; and she caught him as he fell.

Anasūyā spoke:

“Be not dejected, O lady; behold my power. Thou hast succeeded through thy obedience to thy husband. What further need hast thou of austerities? Since I have nowhere seen another man equal to thy husband, in form, in disposition, in intellect, with sweetness of speech and other adornments, in very truth let this brāhman, freed from sickness, young again, obtain life in company with his wife for a hundred autumns. Since I see no other deity the equal of thy husband, in very truth let this brāhman regain his life in sound health. Since thy^[8] effort is constantly directed to propitiate thy husband by deed mind and word, let this dvija then come to life.”

The son spoke:

Then the brāhman arose, free from illness, young again, with his own lustre illuminating the dwelling, as it were an ever-youthful god. Then there fell a shower of flowers, accompanied with the strains of heavenly instruments and other musical instruments. And the gods were delighted and said to Anasūyā.

The gods spoke:

“Choose a boon, O blessed lady. Inasmuch as thou hast accomplished a great matter for the gods, therefore the gods will grant thee a boon, O ascetic lady.”

Anasūyā spoke:

“If ye gods headed by Brahmā, being favourable, will grant me a boon, and if ye deem me worthy of a boon, then let Brahmā, Viṣṇu, and Śiva become sons to me, and let me in company with my husband attain religious devotion, to the end that I may be delivered from affliction.”

“Be it so,” exclaimed Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva and the other gods to her; and they departed, duly honouring the ascetic lady.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Pleasure and pain, &c.

[2]:

Yoga.

[3]:

Or “devoid of means;” there seems to be a pun on the word yoga.

[4]:

For Anarkāya read Alarkāya, see Canto XXXVI.

[5]:

For davatam read daivatam.

[6]:

Nitya-naimittikī; see Canto XXX.

[7]:

For āryāyā read āryayā?

[8]:

For mama read tava?