Part 4: Founding of Nemi’s congregation

Knowing that it was the proper time, the Lokāntika-gods came there, bowed to Nemi and said, “Lord, found a congregation.” The Blessed One began to give gifts for a year with money supplied by the Jṛmbhaka-gods at Vāsava’s command.

When she had seen nemi turned back and had heard him longing for the vow, Rājīmatī fell to the ground, like a creeper whose tree has been taken away. Her friends, terrified, sprinkled her with fragrant cool water and fanned her with fans made from plantain-leaves. When she had regained consciousness and had got up, her hair fallen on her cheeks, her bodice wet from a stream of tears, she lamented:

“There was no desire on my part that Nemi should be my husband. By whom were you asked, Fate, that Nemi was made my husband? Why did you make a reversal suddenly, like a blow with a staff? You alone are a deceiver and a destroyer of confidence. However, this was known before by me from lack of confidence in my own good fortune. On the one hand, nemi as husband, the best in three worlds: on the other hand, I. If I was known to be unsuitable for you, Nemi, why by agreeing to the marriage did you create the wish in me? And having created it, master, why was the wish broken? For the promise of the great is firm as long as life, if you depart from your promise, lord, the oceans will surely cross their boundaries. However, it was not your fault, but the fault of my karma, that I attained taking your hand only verbally. The beautiful shrine of the divine mothers,^[1] the divine pavilion, the jeweled altar, and everything else for our marriage became useless. What was sung in auspicious songs—all that was not true. Such is the truth: you were hymned in the beginning as my husband, but you did not become my husband. What separation of husband and wife did I make in a former birth that I did not attain the happiness of touching the hand of a husband?”

With such lamentations, she beat her breast with her lotus-hands, broke her necklace, and struck together her bracelets. Her friends said to her:

“Do not be so depressed, friend. What (kind of) union would there have been with him, or what business of you with him? Without affection, without desire, averse to association with people, always afraid of householding, like a wild creature of a house, discourteous, cruel, self-willed, hostile—if he has gone, let him go. It is a good thing that Nemi is known now. If he had married you, he would be thus indifferent. Having thrown you in a well, then your rope would be cut. There are many other Yadu princes with good qualities, Pradyumna, Śāmba, et cetera. Among them there may be an agreeable husband. You were given to Nemi only in intention, fair lady. You are now still a maiden from the failure of the marriage with him, innocent girl.”

Rājīmatī said angrily: “Friends, why is this said, resembling the family of an unchaste woman, for the disgrace of my family? Nemi is the best husband in three worlds. Who else is such a husband? Or, suppose there is such. What of him? Surely, a maiden is given once for all. Vṛṣṇi’s son was chosen by me in heart and speech. He agreed to. me as a wife at the importunity of the elders. Now, he, the best husband in three worlds, did not marry me. Enough of pleasures, indeed, the causes of worthlessness by nature. If I was not touched by his hand in the marriage-ceremony, his hand alone shall touch me in order to give the vow.” Making a vow to this effect, having sent away her friends, Ugrasena’s daughter passed the time, meditating on Nemi.

Now the Blessed Nemi gave gifts day after day and Samudra and the others wept like children in pain. The Blessed One knew Rājīmatī’s vow from the people and from his three kinds of knowledge; nevertheless, he remained indifferent. The Teacher of the World gave unceasing gifts for a year; and the chief-gods, Śakra and others, held the initiation-ceremony. Śivā’s son got into the jeweled palanquin, named Uttarakuru, carried by gods and kings. Śakra and Īśāna carried chaurīs in front of the Lord; Sanatkumāra the umbrella and Māhendra the principal sword: the Indra of Brahma carried a mirror and the Indra of Lāntaka a full pitcher; Mahāśukra a svastika and Sahasrāra a bow; the Lord of Prāṇata a śrīvatsa and Acyuta a nandyāvarta;^[2] and the other Indras, Camara and others, carried weapons. Surrounded by fathers, mothers, Rāma, Kṛṣṇa and others, the Blessed One, noble-minded, set out on the king’s highway. As the Lord went near her house, he was seen by Rājīmatī and at once she fainted again and again from grief that had been renewed.

Then Nemi went to the garden, Sahasrāmravaṇa, the ornament of Mt. Ujjayanta, resembling Nandana. Śivā’s son entered the garden which was apparently smiling, as it were, with newly blossoming ketakīs; its ground on all sides paved with sapphires, as it were, with the fallen rose-apples; with bees intoxicated from lying on the couch of kadamba blossoms; with a dance (tāṇḍava) full of peacock-cries commenced by peacocks with erect tail-feathers; with groves of blossoming kuṭajas^[3] like an arsenal of Smara; with a throng of travelers overcome by the fragrance of white and yellow jasmines. He got out of the palanquin and took off the ornaments and Hari (Indra) gave them to Hari (Kṛṣṇa).

When three hundred years from his birth had passed, on the white sixth of Śrāvaṇa, the moon being in Tvāṣṭra, in the forenoon, having fasted for two days, Śivā’s soon tore out his hair in five handfuls. Śakra took the hair and put a garment on the Lord’s shoulder. Śakra threw the hair into the Ocean of Milk, returned, and stopped the tumult. The Lord began sāmāyika.^[4] The mind-reading knowledge of the Lord arose. At that time there was a moment of comfort even for hell-inhabitants.

A thousand kings became mendicants, following Prince Nemi. Śakra, Kṛṣṇa, and others bowed to Nemi and went to their own homes. On the next day in the cow-house at the house of the Brahman Varadatta the Supreme Lord broke his fast with rice-pudding. Then the gods made a shower of fragrant rain and flowers, a deep roll of a drum, a waving of garments, and a stream of treasure. Then eager for the destruction of the destructive karmas, neminātha went elsewhere to wander, turned away from the bondage of karma.

Footnotes and references:

[1]:

Mātṛgṛha. See I, p. 141 and n. 183.

[2]:

For the śrīvatsa and nandyāvarta, see I, plate 4.

[3]:

Oval-leaved rose bay.

[4]:

Cessation of all censurable activity, including mental. For a detailed description, see I, n. 122.