“You are Aṭṭahása born again as a Bráhman, and I am that Yakshiṇí, and we have been thus united here, so we shall soon have a son born to us. When the Bráhman Pavitradhara’s wise wife Saudáminí said this to him, he conceived the hope that he would have a son, and was much delighted. And in course of time a son was born to him by that Yakshiṇí, whose birth cheered up their house and his mind. And when Pavitradhara saw the face of that son, he immediately assumed a celestial shape and became again the Yaksha Aṭṭahása. And he said to that Yakshiṇí, “My dear, our curse is at an end. I have become Aṭṭahása as before, come let us return to our own place.”
When he said this, his wife said to him, “Think what is to become of the child your brother, who through a curse has been born as your son.” When Aṭṭahása heard that, he saw what was to be done by means of his powers of contemplation, and said to her; “My dear, there is in this town a Bráhman of the name of Devadarśana. He is poor in children and in wealth, and, though he keeps up five fires, hunger makes two others burn more fiercely, namely, the fire of digestion in his own stomach and in that of his wife. And one day, as he was engaged in asceticism to obtain wealth and a son, the holy god of fire, whom he was propitiating, said to him in a dream, ‘You have not a son of your own, but you shall have an adopted son, and by means of him, Bráhman, your poverty shall come to an end.’ On account of this revelation of the god of fire, the Bráhman is at the present moment expecting that son, so we must give him this child of ours, for this is the decree of fate.” After Aṭṭahása had said this to his beloved, he placed the child on the top of a pitcher full of gold, and fastened round its neck a garland of heavenly jewels, and deposited it in the house of that Bráhman at night when he and his wife were asleep, and then went with his beloved to his own place.
Then the Bráhman Devadarśana and his wife woke up, and beheld that young moon of a child glittering with resplendent jewels, and the Bráhman thought in his astonishment, “What can be the meaning of this?” but when he saw the pot of gold, he remembered what the god of fire had told him in his dream, and rejoiced. And he took that young son given him by fate, and that wealth, and in the morning he made a great feast. And on the eleventh day he gave the child the appropriate name of Śrídarśana.[6] Then the Bráhman Devadarśana, having become very rich, remained performing his sacrificial and other ceremonies, and enjoying the good things of this world at the same time.
The brave Śrídarśana grew up in his father’s house, and acquired great skill in the Vedas and other branches of learning, and in the use of weapons. But in course of time, when he had grown up, his father Devadarśana, who had gone on a pilgrimage to sacred bathing-places, died at Prayága. His mother, hearing of that, entered the fire, and then Śrídarśana mourned for them, and performed on their behalf the ceremonies enjoined in the sacred treatises. But in course of time his grief diminished, and as he was not married, and had no relations, he became, though well educated, devoted to gambling. And in a short time his wealth was consumed by means of that vice, and he had difficulty in obtaining even food.
One day, after he had remained in the gambling-hall without food for three days, being unable to go out for shame, as he had not got a decent garment to wear, and refusing to eat the food which others gave him, a certain gambler, named Mukharaka, who was a friend of his, said to him, “Why are you so utterly overwhelmed? Do you not know that such is the nature of the sinful vice of gambling? Do you not know that the dice are the sidelong loving looks of the goddess of Ill Luck? Has not Providence ordained for you the usual lot of the gambler? His arms are his only clothing, the dust is his bed, the cross-roads are his house, ruin is his wife.[7] So why do you refuse to take food? Why do you neglect your health, though you are a wise man? For what object of desire is there that a resolute man cannot obtain, as long as he continues alive? Hear in illustration of this truth the following wonderful story of Bhúnandana.”
Story of Bhúnandana.
There is here a region named Kaśmíra, the ornament of the earth, which the Creator made as a second heaven, after creating the first heaven, for men who have done righteous deeds. The difference between the two is that in heaven delights can only be seen, in Kaśmíra they can be actually enjoyed. The two glorious goddesses Śrí and Sarasvatí both frequent it, as if they vied with one another, saying—“I have the preëminence here”—“No, it is I.”—The Himálaya encircles it with its embrace, as if to prevent Kali, the adversary of virtue, from entering it. The Vitastá adorns it, and repels sin with its waves, as if they were hands, and seems to say, “Depart far from this land which is full of waters sacred to the gods.” In it the long lines of lofty palaces, whitened with silvery plaster, imitate the cliffs at the foot of the neighbouring Himálaya. In this land there lived a king, named Bhúnandana, who upheld as a spiritual guide the system of the castes and the prescribed stages of life, learned in science and traditional lore, the moon that delighted his subjects. His valour was displayed in the kingdoms of his foes, on which he left the impress of his nails. He was a politic governor, and his people were ever free from calamity; he was exclusively devoted to Kṛishṇa, and the minds of his people took no pleasure in vicious deeds.[8]
Once on a time, on the twelfth day of the month, the king, after duly worshipping Vishṇu, saw in a dream a Daitya maiden approach him. When he woke up, he could not see her, and in his astonishment he said to himself, “This is no mere dream; I suspect she is some celestial nymph by whom I have been cajoled.” Under this impression he remained thinking of her, and so grieved at being deprived of her society, that gradually he neglected all his duties as a king. Then that king, not seeing any way of recovering her, said to himself; “My brief union with her was due to the favour of Vishṇu, so I will go into a solitary place and propitiate Vishṇu with a view to recovering her, and I will abandon this clog of a kingdom, which without her is distasteful.” After saying this, king Bhúnandana informed his subjects of his resolution, and gave the kingdom to his younger brother named Sunandana.
But after he had resigned the kingdom, he went to a holy bathing-place named Kramasaras; which arose from the footfall of Vishṇu, for it was made by him long ago in his Dwarf incarnation. It is attended by the three gods Brahmá, Vishṇu, and Śiva, who have settled on the top of the neighbouring mountains in the form of peaks. And the foot of Vishṇu created here in Kaśmíra another Ganges, named Ikshuvatí, as if in emulation of the Vitastá. There the king remained, performing austerities, and pining, without desire for any other enjoyment, like the chátaka in the hot season longing for fresh rainwater.