Story of the robber who won over Yama’s secretary.
Long ago there lived in Sinhaladvípa a robber, of the name of Sinhavikrama, who since his birth had nourished his body with other men’s wealth stolen from every quarter. In time he grew old, and desisting from his occupation, he reflected; “What resources have I in the other world? Whom shall I betake myself to for protection there? If I betake myself to Śiva or Vishṇu, what value will they attach to me, when they have gods, hermits, and others to worship them? So I will worship Chitragupta[16] who alone records the good and evil deeds of men. He may deliver me by his power. For he, being a secretary, does alone the work of Brahmá and Śiva: he writes down or erases in a moment the whole world, which is in his hand.” Having thus reflected, he began to devote himself to Chitragupta; he honoured him specially, and in order to please him, kept continually feeding Bráhmans.
While he was carrying on this system of conduct, one day Chitragupta came to the house of that robber, in the form of a guest, to examine into his real feelings. The robber received him courteously, entertained him, and gave him a present, and then said to him, “Say this, ‘May Chitragupta be propitious to you’.” Then Chitragupta, who was disguised as a Bráhman, said, “Why do you neglect Śiva, and Vishṇu, and the other gods, and devote yourself to Chitragupta?” When the robber Sinhavikrama heard that, he said to him, “What business is that of yours. I do not need any other gods but him.” Then Chitragupta, wearing the form of a Bráhman, went on to say to him, “Well, if you will give me your wife, I will say it.” When Sinhavikrama heard that, he was pleased, and said to him: “I hereby give you my wife, in order to please the god whom I have specially chosen for my own.” When Chitragupta heard that, he revealed himself to him and said, “I am Chitragupta himself, and I am pleased with you, so tell me what I am to do for you.”
Then Sinhavikrama was exceedingly pleased and said to him, “Holy one, take such order as that I shall not die.” Then Chitragupta said, “Death is one from whom it is impossible to guard people; but still I will devise a plan to save you: listen to it. Ever since Death was consumed by Śiva, being angry on account of Śveta, and was created again in this world because he was required,[17] wherever Śveta lives, he abstains from injuring other people, as well as Śveta himself, for he is restrained by the command of the god. And at present the hermit Śveta is on the other side of the eastern ocean, in a grove of ascetics beyond the river Taranginí. That grove cannot be invaded by Death, so I will take you and place you there. But you must not return to this side of the Taranginí. However, if you do return out of carelessness, and Death seizes you, I will devise some way of escape for you, when you have come to the other world.”
When Chitragupta had said this, he took the delighted Sinhavikrama, and placed him in that grove of asceticism belonging to Śveta, and then disappeared. And after some time Death went to the hither bank of the river Taranginí, to carry off Sinhavikrama. While there, he created by his delusive power a heavenly nymph, and sent her to him, as he saw no other means of getting hold of him. The fair one went and approached Sinhavikrama, and artfully enslaved him, fascinating him with her wealth of beauty. After some days had passed, she entered the Taranginí, which was disturbed with waves, giving out that she wished to see her relations. And while Sinhavikrama, who had followed her, was looking at her from the bank, she slipped in the middle of the river. And there she uttered a piercing cry, as if she was being carried away by the stream, exclaiming, “My husband, can you see me carried away by the stream without saving me? Are you a jackal in courage, and not a lion as your name denotes?” When Sinhavikrama heard that, he rushed into the river, and the nymph pretended to be swept away by the current, and when he followed her to save her, she soon led him to the other bank. When he reached it, Death threw his noose over his neck, and captured him; for destruction is ever impending over those whose minds are captivated by objects of sense.
Then the careless Sinhavikrama was led off by Death to the hall of Yama, and there Chitragupta, whose favour he had long ago won, saw him, and said to him in private;[18] “If you are asked here, whether you will stay in hell first or in heaven, ask to be allowed to take your period in heaven first. And while you live in heaven, acquire merit, in order to ensure the permanence of your stay there. And then perform severe asceticism, in order to expiate your sin.” When Chitragupta said this to Sinhavikrama, who was standing there abashed, with face fixed on the ground, he readily consented to do it.
And a moment afterwards Yama said to Chitragupta, “Has this robber any amount of merit to his credit or not?” Then Chitragupta said, “Indeed he is hospitable, and he bestowed his own wife on a suitor, in order to please his favourite deity; so he has to go to heaven for a day of the gods.” When Yama heard this, he said to Sinhavikrama; “Tell me, which will you take first, your happiness or your misery?” Then Sinhavikrama entreated that he might have his happiness first. So Yama ordered his chariot to be brought, and Sinhavikrama mounted it, and went off to heaven, remembering the words of Chitragupta.
There he rigidly observed a vow of bathing in the Ganges of heaven, and of muttering prayers, and remained indifferent to the enjoyments of the place, and so he obtained the privilege of dwelling there for another year of the gods. Thus in course of time he obtained a right to perpetual residence in heaven, by virtue of his severe asceticism, and by propitiating Śiva his sin was burnt up, and he obtained knowledge. Then the messengers of hell were not able to look him in the face, and Chitragupta blotted out the record of his sin on his birch-bark register, and Yama was silent.
“Thus Sinhavikrama, though a robber, obtained emancipation by virtue of true discernment; and now I have explained to you the perfection of discernment. And thus, my son, the wise embark on these six perfections taught by Buddha, as on a ship, and so cross the ocean of temporal existence.”
While Somaśúra was being thus instructed in the forest by king Vinítamati, who had attained the rank of a Bodhisattva, the sun heard these religious lessons, and became subdued, and assuming the hue of sunset as the red robe of a Buddhist, entered the cavern of the western mountain. Then king Vinítamati and Somaśúra performed their evening rites, according to pious usage, and spent the night there. And the next day, Vinítamati went on to teach Somaśúra the law of Buddha with all its secrets.[19] Then Somaśúra built a hut at the foot of a tree, and remained there in the wood, sitting at the feet of that instructor, absorbed in contemplation. And in course of time those two, the teacher and the pupil, attained supernatural powers, the result of abstraction, and gained the highest illumination.
And in the meanwhile, Indukalaśa came, out of jealousy, and by the might of his sword and horse ejected his brother Kanakakalaśa from the kingdom of Ahichchhatra also, which Vinítamati gave him, when he was afflicted at losing his first kingdom. He, having been deposed from his throne, wandered about with two or three of his ministers, and, as chance would have it, reached the grove, which was the retreat of Vinítamati. And while he was looking for fruits and water, as he suffered from severe hunger and thirst, Indra burnt up the wood by his magic power, and made it as it was before, wishing to entrap Vinítamati by making it impossible for him to shew such hospitality to every wayfarer.[20] And Vinítamati, beholding the grove, which was his retreat, suddenly turned into a desert, roamed about hither and thither for a short time, in a state of bewilderment. And then he saw Kanakalaśa, who in the course of his wanderings had come there with his followers, and was now his guest, and he and his train were all on the point of death from hunger. And the hospitable Bodhisattva approached the king, when he was in this state, and asked him his story, and then he exerted his discernment, and said to him, “Though this wood has become a desert, and affords no hospitable entertainment, still I can tell you an expedient for saving your lives in your present state of hunger. Only half a kos from here there is a deer, which has been killed by falling into a hole, go and save your lives by eating its flesh.” His guest, who was suffering from hunger, took his advice, and set out for that place with his followers, but the Bodhisattva Vinítamati got there before him. He reached that hole, and by his supernatural power assumed the form of a deer, and then he threw himself into it, and sacrificed his life for the sake of his petitioner. Then Kanakakalaśa and his followers slowly reached that hole, and found the deer lying dead in it. So they pulled it out, and made a fire with grass and thorns, and roasted its flesh, and devoured it all. In the meanwhile the Bodhisattva’s two wives, the daughter of the Nága and the princess, seeing that the wood of their retreat had been destroyed, and not seeing their husband, were much distressed, and went and told what had happened, to Somaśúra, whom they roused from deep meditation. He soon discerned by contemplation what his spiritual teacher had done, and he told the news to his wives, distressing as it was to them. And he quickly went with them to that hole, in which his spiritual guide had sacrificed himself for his guests. There the princess and the Nága’s daughter, seeing that only the bones and horns of the deer, into which their husband had turned himself, remained, mourned for him. And the two ladies, who were devoted to their husband, took his horns and bones, and brought a heap of wood from their hermitage, and entered the fire. And then Kanakakalaśa and his companions, who were there, being grieved when they heard the story, entered the fire also.”
When all this had taken place, Somaśúra, unable to endure the grief, which he felt for the loss of his spiritual teacher, took to a bed of darbha-grass with the intention of yielding up his breath. And then Indra appeared to him in person and said to him, “Do not do so, for I did all this to try your spiritual teacher. And I have now sprinkled with amṛita the ashes and bones, which were all that remained of him, and his wives, and his guests, and restored them all to life.”[21] When Somaśúra heard Indra say this, he worshipped him, and rose up delighted, and went and looked, and lo! his spiritual guide the Bodhisattva Vinítamati had risen up again alive, with his wives, and Kanakakalaśa, and his attendants. Then he honoured with an inclination of the head, and worshipped with gifts of flowers and respectful speeches, his spiritual father, who had returned from the other world with his wives, and feasted his eyes upon him. And while Kanakakalaśa and his followers were respectfully testifying their devotion to him, all the gods came there, headed by Brahmá and Vishṇu. And pleased with the goodness of Vinítamati, they all gave him by their divine power boons earned by his disinterestedness, and then disappeared. And Somaśúra and the others told their history, and then Vinítamati went with them to another and a heavenly wood of ascetics.
“So you see that in this world even those who are reduced to ashes meet again, much more men who are alive and can go where they will. So, my son, no more of abandoning the body! Go, for you are a brave man, and you shall certainly be re-united with Mṛigánkadatta.” When I had heard this tale from the old female ascetic, I bowed before her, and set out, sword in hand, with renewed hope, and in course of time I reached this forest, and was, as fate would have it, captured by these Śavaras, who were seeking a victim for Durgá. And after wounding me in fight, they bound me, and brought me as a prisoner to this king of the Śavaras Máyávaṭu. Here I have found you, my sovereign, accompanied by two or three of your ministers, and by your favour I am as happy as if I were in my own house.
When Mṛigánkadatta, who was in the palace of the Śavara prince, had heard this history of the adventures of his friend Guṇákara told by himself, he was much pleased, and after he had seen the proper remedies applied to the body of that minister who had been wounded in fight, as the day was advancing, he rose up with his other friends, and performed the duties of the day.
And he remained there for some days engaged in restoring Guṇákara to health, though eager to go to Ujjayiní, in order to be re-united with his other friends and to obtain Śaśánkavatí.[22]
[1] This city is identified by General Cunningham with Adikot near Ramnagar in Rohilcund. (Ancient Geography of India, p. 359 and ff.)
[2] The male and female of this bird are represented by Hindu poets as separated at night.
[3] The sword may be compared with that of Chaṇḍamahásena in the eleventh chapter, and with Morglay, Excalibur, Durandal, Gram, Balmung, Chrysaor &c. (See Sir G. Cox’s Mythology of the Aryan nations, Vol. I, p. 308.) The same author has some remarks upon Pegasus and other magic horses in his IInd Vol. p. 287 and ff. See also Ralston’s Russian Folk-Tales, p. 256 and ff.
[4] Excessive rain, drought, rats, locusts, birds, and foreign invasion.
[5] I have before referred to Ralston’s remarks on snakes in his Russian Folk-Tales, p. 65. Melusina is a clear instance of a snake-maiden in European Folk-lore. See her story in Simrock’s Deutsche Volksbücher, Vol. VI. There is a similar marriage in Prym und Socin, Syrische Märchen, p. 246.
[6] Compare the commencement of the story of the Blind Man and the Cripple in Ralston’s Russian Folk-Tales, and Waldau’s Böhmische Märchen, p. 445. This tale appears to belong to the Atalanta cycle.
[7] The passage is full of puns, which it is impossible to translate: the “ornaments” may be rhetorical ornaments, there is also a reference to the guṇas of rhetorical writers. “Sweetly-tinkling” might mean “elegant words.” Guṇákṛishṭá in śloka 76 b, may also mean that the princess was attracted by the good qualities of her opponent.
[8] Dr. Kern conjectures udagháṭayat, which is as far as I can make out, the reading of the Sanskrit College MS.
[9] There is probably a pun here. It may mean that his joints and body were relaxed by old age.
[10] This seems to be the meaning of máṇava here. See Böhtlingk and Roth s. v.
[11] The word also means “dust.”
[12] Or “by great sorrow.”
[13] Mára, the god of Love, is the Buddhist devil.
[14] The Kumuda remains with its petals closed during the day.
[15] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. reading dhṛityá.
[16] A being recording the vices and virtues of mankind in Yama’s world. Kuhn, in his Westfälische Sagen, p. 71, speaks of “a devil who records the evil deeds of men.” Böhtlingk and Roth say that utpunsayati in śl. 323 should be utpánsayati.
[17] Compare the story in Waldau’s Böhmische Märchen, p. 242, Gut dass es den Tod auf Erden gibt!
[18] Cp. the speech of Chi, the scribe of the realms below, in Giles’s Strange Stories from a Chinese Studio, p. 366.
[19] I substitute Bauddham for bodhum.
[20] I follow the Sanskrit College MS. which reads lopataḥ for lobhataḥ.
[21] This idea is found in the story of Jímútaváhana in the 21st Taranga of this work, where see note. Cp. also “Das Wasser des Lebens,” Grimm. 97, and the notes in his 3rd volume. See also note on page 499 of Vol. I; and Herrtage’s edition of the English Gesta, page 344.
[22] I read ullághayan, which is found in the Sanskrit College MS.