Harishchandra

("हरिश्चन्द्रसमो राजा न भूतो न भविष्यति")

1. Debate in Heaven

Great have been the trials of men at the hand

of gods who, themselves created to rule

over human souls and bring them to the path

of righteousness, of faith, and of the Lord,

often forgetful of divine purpose

presume supremacy an innate right.

Of these there never was another soul

that suffered more such unmerited pains

as gods and sages unscrupulously

dispense to men, like fodder to cattle

that knows not what it feeds upon, than one

Harishchandra called, king of great renown

for justice, charity and truthfulness.

Vast was his kingdom, and its populace

industrious, prosperous and happy

as any nation steered by selfless hands

of god-fearing ruler has to be.

He ruled with golden rods of compassion,

not just of boastful correction as now

the modern world with narrow vision sees

as best for all its democratic men

who think of crafty ways to heavy gain

and keep the rulers busy making plans

to outwit crooks that steer the social vans.

His fame so travelled without microchips

through ruby lips of distant travellers,

over evening fire-pots with rings

of happy housewives and their family,

over ploughs and oxen, in the bazaar,

across lands and frontiers that soon his name

was synonym for truth and charity.

'Twas this the talk of Indra's paradise

where hoary bearded sages sat with gods

in burnished chairs of liquid gold that seemed

suspended o'er a lucid starry floor

that twinkled argent nights and golden days.

The hall seemed boundless, yet the crystal walls

mothered plants and fragrant flowers that were

trimmed by Yakshya hands to great excellence

and vines and creepers travelled far and high

o'erarching both throne and ranks so that here

art and nature sprang in fine harmony.

And here Kubera, god of richest wealth,

had strewn his emerald, diamond, adamant,

jade, ruby, onyx, silver, precious gold

that seemed to bloom like stars on walls and throne

and crowns and chairs and ornaments of gods

who stood, changeless beings, amidst a flux

of changes in their celestial realm.

So sat the hoary sages with the gods,

conversant on all the mysteries of life

and death and deathless life and lifeless death;

for, after lengths of soul-seducing mirth

and amrit-induced bliss so reinforced

by Toomburu's quick fingers on the drum

and Rhamba's fluid movements so excelled

by Menaka that sense and soul dissolved

with dance and dancer, even in heaven

the best intellect needs an exercise.

So when the apsaras had danced their turn

and left the hall to gods and sages wise,

after a bout of rich applause they sought

to understand how truth and beauty were

wedded to the ultimate good of all.

And when in heaven it was given that

of all the creatures man alone was not

capable of honest conduct and speech

towards his fellow beings or the gods,

voices rose to claim or disclaim this stance.

"Can mortal soul uphold a truth like gods?"

This formed the topic of a hot debate

that drew a boundary line of strong discord

between the yes and no of wisest souls.

"Can mortal soul uphold a truth like gods?"

To some the answer was so obvious

they smiled confidently, and spoke with voice

soft and controlled, while others were not sure.

Each sought an answer churned in the soul's depths,

expressing only what they knew was true

for gods and sages can never lie.

Of these was one, Vishwamitra called,

a friend of all the people of this world,

great sage who with the power of virtue

earned through long meditation, discipline

and worship of the Lord had proved himself,

though of mortal descent, as great as gods.

He stood up in Indra's glorious hall

and spoke with a deep voice that carried well:

"'Can mortal soul uphold a truth like gods?'

you ask, great Indra! You, who know so well

that seed is tree, that atoms are not small,

that desire mothers human actions

and that the will is but a guide that leads

to tasks that are otherwise too big for men.

Man has only to want and he will be

whatever it is that he wants to be,

provided his will does not desert him

in glooms of despair with a sense of doom.

'Can mortal soul uphold a truth like gods?'

Why yes! He can and often does transcend

his corruptible fibres with a zeal

that sacrifices his own life for truth.

Yes, man can die for faith, for what he holds

as valuable in terms of human good.

And such a man is not a rarity.

In every age and every place there are

living examples, known, unknown, but still

bearers of the living torch of truth

such as Harishchandra, Ayodhya's king.

You know him well, this living example

of how a human soul upholds the truth."

Satisfied, the sage concluded and sat

as another rose in splendour to speak

like a thin silver rill that gushes down

the rough and rocky slopes on all that stand

in its unstoppable path to distant sea.

This was Varuna, Neptune styled in Rome,

gentle god of ocean, fiery grown

with memories sad of deceptions dark

which he now stood to unfold: "Harishchandra !

What sore example to good intentions

towards the human kind have you brought forth !

Do you not know then, Vishwamitra, you

who stopped Trishanku in his midway fall

from Indra's paradise and there created

another heaven wherein to dwell

with his physical body, that his son

once being sonless sought my needed aid?"

Indra beamed with glorious dignity

and goaded Varuna to tell of how

the liar Harishchandra, sonless then,

sought the sea-god's sorely needed help,

of how he prayed and sacrificed and vowed

that should the sea-god his prayers answer

and let him see the face of his own son

for even the briefest moment, just for once,

he then would himself offer up his child

to Varuna of his own accord, of how

the gentle sea-god pity took

on him and blessed him with an infant child;

but then, the fire in the father's eyes

burnt his sacred vows to darkest cinder

of deceit by mortal practiced on a god.

The son grew up into a handsome lad

in kingly palace despite frequent calls

by patient Varuna who reminded

the crafty, liar king of promise stale

until one fine day when he punished him

for all his lies with severe ascitis.

"I filled his belly with painful water

as punishment for not keeping his vow

solemnly made to me when in distress,

but soon forgotten in happier times.

Yes, such is human nature, all of it,

full of contradictions within itself,

prone to gratification, unstable

in the nobler spiritual realm,

a slave to moods of joys and agonies

that flicker will like wind the candle's flame."

"Not all ! Not all !" The vexèd sage, he cried,

"There is a golden glow in the soul's depth

that burns with purging flames impurities

of baser nature and thus leaves behind

the purest essence noble and divine.

Gods need fear no corruption of nature,

they remain what they are, these beings pure,

there is no challenge, so, no gain, no loss;

but only humans may choose to become

what they are not by birth or nature made,

create for themselves their own destiny.

Human grandeur in such transformations

rests like a robin in its cozy nest.

What Harishchandra was, no longer is,

and, since he has become a different soul,

he will not yield to falsehood though he should

suffer immensely for upholding truth;

though mortal clay uphold his fragile frame,

upholding truth he shall create his fame."

"Then let him suffer," god Varuna cried,

"for what is true is also what is tried."

"Then let him suffer," Vishwamitra said,

"and rise in greater glory through his deed.

Let much unearned suffering save his kind

and elevate through example human mind."

"Then let him suffer," the great Indra spoke,

"and we shall see which one of us is right.

'Tis only test that proves the metal's worth,

not speculations nor hot arguments.

Let the trial begin ! Let us descend

to earth disguised in mortal garb and strike

with force to see how long his virtue's shield

will stand the test or bend and break and yield."