by Vihari-Lala Mitra | 1891 | 1,121,132 words | ISBN-10: 8171101519
The English translation of the Yoga-vasistha: a Hindu philosophical and spiritual text written by sage Valmiki from an Advaita-vedanta perspective. The book contains epic narratives similar to puranas and chronologically precedes the Ramayana. The Yoga-vasistha is believed by some Hindus to answer all the questions that arise in the human mind, an...
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The lord of Lakshmi, seeing the gods so clamorous in their accusation of the demons, gave his words to them in sounds as sonorous as those of the rainy clouds, in response to the loud noise of screaming and thirst-stricken peacocks.
The lord hari said:—
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Don't you marvel ye gods! at Prahlada's faith in me; as it is by virtue of the virtuous acts of his past lives, that pious prince is entitled to his final liberation in this his present life.
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He shall not have to be born again in the womb of a woman, nor to be reproduced in any form on earth; but must remain aloof from regeneration, like a fried pea which does not germinate any more.
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A virtuous man turning impious, becomes of course the source of evil;but an unworthy man becoming meritorious, is doubtless a step towards his better being and blessedness.
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You good gods that are quite happy in your blessed seats in heaven, must not let the good deserts of Prahlada be any cause of your uneasiness.
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The Lord having thus spoken to the gods, became invisible to them, like a feather floating on the surface of waves.
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The assemblage of the immortals then repaired to their heavenly abodes after taking their leave of the god; as the particles of sea water are borne to the sky by the zephyrs, or by the agitation of the Mandara mountain.
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The gods were henceforth pacified towards Prahlada;because the mind is never suspicious of one who has the credit of his superiors.
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Prahlada also continued in the daily adoration of his god, with the contriteness of his heart, and in the formulas of his spiritual, oral and bodily services.
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It was in the course of his divine service in this manner, that he attained the felicity proceeding from his right discrimination, self-resignation and other virtues with which he was crowned.
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He took no delight in any object of enjoyment, nor felt any pleasure in the society of his consorts, all which he shunned as a stag shuns a withered tree, and the company of human beings.
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He did not walk in the ways of the ungodly, nor spent his time in aught but religious discourses. His mind did not dwell on visible objects, as the lotus never grows on dry land.
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His mind did not delight in pleasures, which were all linked with pain; but longed for its liberation, which is as entire of itself and unconnected with anything, as a single grain of unperforated pearl.
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But his mind being abstracted from his enjoyments, and not yet settled in its trance of ultimate rest; had been only waving between the two states, like a cradle swinging in both ways.
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Pleased at Prahlada's firm belief, he proceeded by the subterranean route to the place of his worship, and stood confessed before him at the holy altar.
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Seeing his god manifest to his view, the lord of the demons worshipped him with two-fold veneration, and made many respectful offerings to his lotus-eyed deity more than his usual practice.
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He then gladly glorified his god with many swelling orisons, for his deigning to appear before him in his house of worship.
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I adore thee, O my lord Hari! that art unborn and undecaying; that art the blessed receptacle of three worlds; that dispellest all darkness by the light of thy body; and art the refuge of the helpless and friendless.
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I adore my Hari in his complexion of blue-lotus leaves, and of the colour of the autumnal sky; I worship him whose body is of the hue of the dark bhramara bee; and who holds in his arms the lotus, discus, club and the conch-shell.
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I worship the god that dwells in the lotus-like hearts of his votaries, with his appearance of a swarm of sable bees; and holding a conch-shell as white as the bud of a lotus or lily, with the earrings ringing in his ears with the music of humming bees.
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I resort to Hari's sky-blue shade, shining with the starry light of his long stretching nails; his face shining as the full-moon with his smiling beams, and his breast waving as the surface of Ganges, with the sparkling gems hanging upon it.
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I rely on that godling that slept on the leaf of the fig tree (when his spirit floated on the surface of the waters); and that contains the universe in himself in his stupendous form of Viraj; that is neither born nor grown, but is always the whole by himself; and is possest of endless attributes of his own nature.
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I take my refuge in Hari, whose bosom is daubed with the red dust of the new-blown lotus, and whose left side is adorned by the blushing beauty of Lakshmi; whose body is mantled by a coloured red coverlet; and besmeared with red sandal paste like liquid gold.
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I take my asylum under that Hari who is the destructive frost to the lotus-bed of demons; and the rising sun to the opening buds of the lotus-bed of the deities; who is the source of the lotus-born Brahma, and receptacle of the lotiform seat (cranium) of our understanding.
My hope is in hari said:—
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the blooming lotus of the bed of the triple world, and the only light amidst the darkness of the universe; who is the principle of the intellect—chit, amidst the gross material world and who is the only remedy of all the evils and troubles of this transient life.
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Hari the destroyer of demons, who is graced on his side by the goddess of prosperity; being lauded with many such graceful speeches of the demoniac lord, answered him as lovingly in his blue lotuslike form, as when the deep clouds respond to the peacocks' screams.