Story of the birth of Vinayavatí.
There is, king, a mighty Vidyádhara named Rankumálin. And a beautiful maiden of the Vidyádhara race, named Tárávalí, who admired good looks, saw him and fell in love with him, and chose him for her husband. And then her father, angry because they had married without consulting anything but their own inclination, laid on them a curse that would separate them for some time. Then the couple, Tárávalí and Rankumálin, sported, with ever-growing love, in various regions belonging to them.
But one day, in consequence of that curse, they lost sight of one another in a wood, and were separated. Then Tárávalí, in her search for her husband, at last reached a forest on the other side of the western sea, inhabited by a hermit of supernatural powers. There she saw a large jambu-tree in flower, which seemed compassionately to console her with the sweet buzzing of its bees. And she took the form of a bee, and sat down on it to rest, and began to drink the honey of a flower. And immediately she saw her husband, from whom she had been so long separated, come there, and she bedewed that flower with a tear of joy. And she abandoned the body of a bee, and went and united herself to her husband Rankumálin, who had come there in search of her, as the moonlight is united to the moon.
Then she went with him to his home: but from the jambu-flower bedewed with her tear a fruit was produced.[6] And in course of time a maiden was produced inside the fruit. Now once on a time the hermit, who was named Vijitásu, was wandering about in search of fruits and roots, and came there, and that fruit, being ripe, fell from the jambu-tree and broke, and a heavenly maiden came out of it, and respectfully bowing, saluted the feet of that hermit. That hermit, who possessed divine insight, when he beheld her, at once knew her true history, and being astonished, took her to his hermitage, and gave her the name of Vinayavatí. Then in course of time she grew up to womanhood in his hermitage, and I, as I was roaming in the air, saw her, and being infatuated by pride in my own good looks and by love, I went to her, and tried to carry her off by force against her will. At that moment the hermit Vijitásu, who heard her cries, came in, and denounced this curse upon me, “O thou whose whole body is full of pride in thy beauty, become an ugly camel. But when thou shalt be slain by king Pushkaráksha, thou shalt be released from thy curse. And he shall be the husband of this Vinayavatí.”
“When cursed in these words by the hermit I became a camel on this earth, and now, thanks to you, my curse is at an end; so go to that forest on the other side of the western sea, named Surabhimáruta, and obtain for a wife that heavenly creature, who would make Śrí herself lose all pride in her own beauty.” When the heavenly Vidyádhara had said this to Pushkaráksha, he flew up to the sky. Then Pushkaráksha returned to his city, and entrusted his kingdom to his ministers, and mounting his horse, went off alone at night. And at last he reached the shore of the western sea, and there he reflected, “How shall I cross over this sea?” Then he saw there an empty temple of Durgá, and he entered it, and bathed, and worshipped the goddess. And he found there a lyre, which had been deposited there by some one, and he devoutly sang to it in honour of the goddess songs composed by himself. And then he lay down to sleep there. And the goddess was so pleased with his lyric worship, that in the night she had him conveyed across the sea by her attendant demons, while he was asleep.
Then he woke up in the morning on the other side of the sea, and saw himself no longer in the temple of Durgá, but in a wood. And he rose up in astonishment, and wandered about, and beheld a hermitage, which seemed to bow before him hospitably by means of its trees weighed down with fruit, and to utter a welcome with the music of its birds. So he entered it, and saw a hermit surrounded by his pupils. And the king approached the hermit, and bowed at his feet. The hermit, who possessed supernatural insight, received him hospitably and said to him; “King Pushkaráksha, Vinayavatí, for whom you have come, has gone out for a moment to fetch firewood, so wait a little: you shall to-day marry her who was your wife in a former life.” Then Pushkaráksha said to himself—“Bravo! this is that very hermit Vijitásu, and this is that very wood, no doubt the goddess has had me carried across the ocean. But this that the hermit tells me is strange, that she was my wife in a previous state of existence.” Then he asked the hermit in his joy the following question, “Tell me, reverend sir, how was she my wife before?” Then the hermit said, “Listen, if you feel curious on the point.”