Harishchandra (6)

6. Revelation

When many-fisted fate shatters high hopes

and perplexes the mind, our views upturn.

When those we expect to love and help us

refuse to do so, feelings cauterize.

When parents, king, and god who should protect

a child from harm become his enemy,

a scared and abandoned Shunashepa

stops crying, laughs with death, becomes a saint.

When Shaibya heard an honest husband speak,

she remained the same faithful wife she was

and replied not in anger or dismay

but gently spoke, "We must cremate our son.

I do not know where we will raise the sum

to pay for funeral service for I

have nothing more than what I wear.

But God be thanked ! For half of this will do !"

So saying Shaibya pulled the cotton cloth

she wrapped around her female decency

and tearing half of it she gave it to

Harishchandra as beggar's payment poor

for service at the ghat and this he took

from his wife before he built the pyre

on which to set his son and light the fire.

And now with heavy heart he was about

to transfer fire with the kusha grass

onto the camphor stuck between blue lips

of darling Rohitashwa plucked by death

long before he had even fairly bloomed;

he was about to offer up his son

to Agni, god of fire, though he should

long ago have offered up the same

to Varuna, but did not out of love;

he was about to light the pyre when

a gentle hand upon his shoulder fell

and a voice he recognized all too well

spoke gently this: "O king, forebear a while !"

For Vishwamitra had appeared as if

through curtains of the dark and holy night,

for sages then travelled through skyie paths

invisible to average human eyes

and knew through meditation what went on

anywhere on earth, underworld or  skies.

He then related to the perplexed king

the gist of hot debate in heaven high

and Harishchandra understood the cry

of helpless female voice in sylvan depths

and hermit-haunted wilds where game he sought.

Then spoke the sage, "The trial is over,

I am delighted with your honesty

and now the kingdom's yours, Harishchandra.

Rule with justice. May peace descend thereon."

"The gods are kind to focus their debate

on a poor show like me. I am honoured

to find a place in multifarious

crossroads of divine minds that loose not track

of minutest beings and events that

are or come to pass in this wild, wide world.

And Vishwamitra, you have greatly raised

my unworthy self to significance

in the eyes of gods; but, alas ! I weep

for I am human; heavy elements

of grief and misery do weigh my heart

in accordance with my nature for here

my dear child lies cold and dead. O, I weep

when I should faint with joy on knowing all

that has kindly come to pass in heaven."

Even as he uttered these sad, slow words,

like warm, radiant rays that tear apart

the gloomy, sable clouds that overcast

and hang menacingly low upon earth

which glows in spots caressed by these and smiles,

the brahmin and his barrel-woman came

walking in heavenly glory, followed by

a multitude of many brilliant gods

who came to bless the greatest man on earth.

Sweet effulgence now lit the ghat where gods

mingled with miserable humans low

and Ganga herself so melted tonight

with quick emotions as she murmured by

that bank and river met like gods and men.

And as Indrani clasped Shaibya and smoothed

her sorrows to peaceful calm, Indra smiled

in glorious lustre and him addressed:

"Your sorrow's over, King Harishchandra !

Weep no more for your son returns to life.

Behold ! He rises like a second dawn

after a morning tempest shrouded him

for just a little while, yet glorious,

yet soft, yet bright. I give him back to you."

And, indeed, Rohitashwa stirred his limbs,

opened his eyes and wondered why he lay

on top of a pyre. The mother quick

lifting him to her arms so kissed and cried

and hugged him close that tearless eyes of gods

felt a mortal chip like we feel the dust

that irritates the eyes and makes tears flow.

The humble father dumbfounded now,

delighted, yes, and overjoyed indeed,

praised great Indra for such mercy as none

on earth could ever expect again.

And when the family were one and joy

still great,  Indra addressed the truthful king:

"For pain on pain now joy on added joy

you have earned for yourself, Harishchandra.

You now deserve heaven and I its king

invite you to come with me where you shall

remain fore'er a proud and royal guest."

The king grew serious and soft replied:

"Great Indra ! Bountiful you are indeed !

You give me child and wife and future hopes;

what more can I ask of anyone? Yet,

you offer me a place in heaven too !

How can I ever hope to find again

an opportunity like this to serve

the gods of heaven and be blessed by them?

Yet, before I answer, let me request

my master chandala for permission

to leave my job and go to grand heaven.

Allow me, kind Indra, to seek him first

and see what he advises. This I must."

Even as he spoke, with timing precise,

behind him stood his master chandala,

now more like bright Varuna than the dark

bearded lord of fearful cremation ground,

and he spoke with such divine gentleness

that Harishchandra bowed with reverence:

"King ! Accept my reverence. No more I

shall demand a test of your mettle's worth.

I know you for an honest, truthful man,

one in billions, a gem of humankind !

Unlike divine beings, humans

transcend into higher and nobler planes

of existence through sheer effort of will;

they rise through humility; they surprise

heaven itself through such achievements great

as seem beyond them in the eyes of gods.

This was what Vishwamitra propounded

in heaven before we all decided

to shower suffering upon your soul

to test its adherence to noble truth

and honesty in miserable times;

but, now we are ashamed, Harishchandra,

to have doubted your virtue where it glowed

like youth on teenage cheek, like pink on rose,

like green on cotyledons, or like gold

in the globe that glows bright at heaven's gate.

I cannot give you permission to go

to heaven for I too there play the host.

So, come in all your radiant glory

to eternal heaven for the trials

and tribulations have now come to end."

Astounded Harishchandra stood aghast

and trembled in his limbs amidst the host

of effulgent divinities gathered

by the Ganges ghat, exit from sweet earth,

and turning to the sea-god softly said,

"Kind Varuna ! If this was but a trial,

let more such follow to humble my soul

and teach it to efface itself away.

This for me is blessing; education

in being meek and humble is the best.

And today I am deeply moved indeed

by the kindness and affection that gods

have bestowed on me. Willing to heaven

I would come, great Indra, but how can I

without my people who love me dearly?

The king is husband of the state and he

may not divorce the people for his joy.

So permit me to bring them all with me

to your eternal kingdom, O kind lord!"

The gods stood perplexed now and smiling looked

at each other, for they knew that no man

had thus far been allowed transit therein

with his course physical body; but now

they owed Harishchandra a favour too.

Then Indra spoke: "O king! They do not have

sufficient virtue to enter heaven."

"Then let them share the virtue I have earned,"

replied the king of charity at once.

And this was done. And, with all citizens

of blessèd Ayodhya, king Harishchandra

ascended to bright heaven, as is told

by many worthy mouths and pens who have

sung his praise, for praised must all truthful men

be on earth which now abounds with such as

place their own selfish end above all means

without a needle prick, without a qualm,

for conscience is now a thing of the past

although man must return to truth at last.