The Kathá Sarit Ságara; or, Ocean of the Streams of Story

by active 11th century Somadeva Bhatta

And Jímútaváhana made up his mind that, if Garuḍa arrived in the meantime, he would certainly be able to carry out his proposed self-sacrifice for the sake of another. And while he was thus reflecting, he saw the trees swaying with the wind of the wings of the approaching king of birds, and seeming, as it were, to utter a cry of dissuasion. So he came to the conclusion that the moment of Garuḍa’s arrival was at hand, and determined to offer up his life for another, he ascended the rock of sacrifice. And the sea, churned by the wind, seemed with the eyes of its bright-flashing jewels to be gazing in astonishment at his extraordinary courage. Then Garuḍa came along, obscuring the heaven, and swooping down, struck the great-hearted hero with his beak, and carried him off from that slab of rock. And he quickly went off with him to a peak of the Malaya mountain, to eat him there; and Jímútaváhana’s crest-jewel was torn from his head, and drops of blood fell from him, as he was carried through the air. And while Garuḍa was eating that moon of the Vidyádhara race, he said to himself; “May my body thus be offered in every birth for the benefit of others, and let me not enjoy heaven or liberation, if they are dissociated from the opportunity of benefiting my neighbour.” And while he was saying this to himself, a rain of flowers fell from heaven.

In the meanwhile his crest-jewel, dripping with his blood, had fallen in front of his wife Malayavatí. When she saw it, she recognized it with much trepidation as her husband’s crest-jewel, and as she was in the presence of her father-in-law and mother-in-law, she shewed it them with tears. And they, when they saw their son’s crest-jewel, were at once beside themselves to think what it could mean. Then king Jímútaketu and queen Kanakavatí found out by their supernatural powers of meditation the real state of the case, and proceeded to go quickly with their daughter-in-law to the place where Garuḍa and Jímútaváhana were. In the meanwhile Śankhachúḍa returned from worshipping Gokarṇa, and saw, to his dismay, that that stone of sacrifice was wet with blood. Then the worthy fellow exclaimed with tears, “Alas! I am undone, guilty creature that I am! Undoubtedly that great-hearted one, in the fulness of his compassion, has given himself to Garuḍa in my stead. So I will find out to what place the enemy has carried him off in this moment. If I find him alive, I shall escape sinking in the mire of dishonour.” While he said this, he went following up the track of the drops of blood, that he saw lying close to one another on the ground.

In the meanwhile Garuḍa, who was engaged in devouring Jímútaváhana, saw that he was pleased; so he immediately stopped, and said to himself; “Strange! This must be some matchless hero; for the great-hearted one rejoices even while I am devouring him, but does not lose his life. And on so much of his body as is not lacerated, he has all the hairs erect, as it were a coat of mail; and his look is lovingly fixed on me, as if I were his benefactor. So he cannot be a snake; he must be some saint; I will cease from devouring him, and question him.” While Garuḍa was thus musing, Jímútaváhana said to him; “King of birds, why do you desist? There is flesh and blood in my body, and you are not satisfied as yet, so go on eating it.” When the king of birds heard this, he asked him with much astonishment, “Great-souled one, you are not a snake, so tell me who you are.” But Jímútaváhana answered Garuḍa, “In truth I am a Nága; what is the meaning of this question of yours? Do your kind, for who, that is not foolish, would act[11] contrary to the purpose he had undertaken?”

While he was giving this answer to Garuḍa, Śankhachúḍa came near, and called out to Garuḍa from a distance, “Do not do a rash and criminal deed, son of Vinatá. What delusion is this that possesses you? He is not a snake; lo! I am the snake designed for you.” When Śankhachúḍa had said this, he came up quickly, and standing between those two, and seeing Garuḍa bewildered, he went on to say; “Why are you perplexed; do you not see that I have hoods and two tongues; and do you not observe the charming appearance of this Vidyádhara?” While Śankhachúḍa was saying this, the wife and parents of Jímútaváhana came there with speed. And his parents, seeing him mangled, immediately cried out, “Alas, son! Alas, Jímútaváhana! Alas, compassionate one who have given your life for others! How could you, son of Vinatá, do this thoughtless deed?” When Garuḍa heard this, he was grieved, and he said, “What! Have I in my delusion eaten an incarnation of a Bodhisattva? This is that very Jímútaváhana, who sacrifices his life for others, the renown of whose glory pervades all these three worlds? So, now that he is dead, the time has arrived for my wicked self to enter the fire. Does the fruit of the poison-tree of unrighteousness ever ripen sweet?” While Garuḍa was distracted with these reflections, Jímútaváhana, having beheld his family, fell down in the agony of his wounds, and died.

Then his parents, tortured with sorrow, lamented, and Śankhachúḍa again and again blamed his own negligence. But Jímútaváhana’s wife, Malayavatí, looked towards the heaven, and in accents choked with tears thus reproached the goddess Ambiká, who before was pleased with her, and granted her a boon, “At that time, O goddess Gaurí, thou didst promise me that I should have for husband one destined to be paramount sovereign over all the kings of the Vidyádharas, so how comes it that thou hast now falsified thy promise to me?” When she said this, Gaurí became visible, and saying “Daughter, my speech was not false,” she quickly sprinkled Jímútaváhana with nectar from her pitcher.[12] That made the successful hero Jímútaváhana at once rise up more splendid than before, with all his limbs free from wounds.

He rose up, and prostrated himself before the goddess, and then all prostrated themselves, and the goddess said to him, “My son, I am pleased with this sacrifice of thy body, so I now anoint thee with this hand of mine emperor over the Vidyádharas, and thou shalt hold the office for a kalpa.” With these words Gaurí sprinkled Jímútaváhana with water from her pitcher, and after she had been worshipped, disappeared. And thereupon a heavenly rain of flowers fell on that spot, and the drums of the gods sounded joyously in the sky.

Then Garuḍa, bending low, said to Jímútaváhana, “Emperor, I am pleased with thee, as thou art an unparalleled hero, since thou, of soul matchlessly generous, hast done this wonderful deed, that excites the astonishment of the three worlds, and is inscribed on the walls of the egg of Brahmá. So give me an order, and receive from me whatever boon thou dost desire.” When Garuḍa said this, the great-hearted hero said to him, “Thou must repent, and never again devour the snakes; and let these snakes, whom thou didst devour before, whose bones only remain, return to life.” Thereupon Garuḍa said, “So be it; from this day forth I will never eat the snakes again; heaven forefend! As for those that I ate on former occasions, let them return to life.”

Then all the snakes, that he had eaten before, whose bones alone remained, rose up unwounded, restored to life by the nectar of his boon. Then the gods, the snakes, and the hermit bands assembled there full of joy, and so the Malaya mountain earned the title of the three worlds. And then all the kings of the Vidyádharas heard by the favour of Gaurí the strange story of Jímútaváhana; and they immediately came and bowed at his feet, and after he had dismissed Garuḍa, they took him to the Himálayas, accompanied by his rejoicing relations and friends, a noble emperor whose great inauguration ceremony had been performed by Gaurí with her own hands. There Jímútaváhana, in the society of his mother and father, and of Mitrávasu and Malayavatí, and of Śankhachúḍa, who had gone to his own house, and returned again, long enjoyed the dignity of emperor of the Vidyádharas, rich in jewels, which had been gained by his marvellous and extraordinarily heroic action.

Having told this very noble and interesting tale, the Vetála proceeded to put another question to king Trivikramasena, “So tell me, which of those two was superior in fortitude, Śankhachúḍa or Jímútaváhana? And the conditions are those which I mentioned before.” When king Trivikramasena heard this question of the Vetála’s, he broke his silence, through fear of a curse, and said with calm composure, “This behaviour was nowise astonishing in Jímútaváhana, as he had acquired this virtue in many births; but Śankhachúḍa really deserves praise, for that, after he had escaped death, he ran after his enemy Garuḍa, who had found another self-offered victim[13] and had gone a long distance with him, and importunately offered him his body.”

When that excellent Vetála had heard this speech of that king’s, he left his shoulder and again went to his own place, and the king again pursued him as before.