The old books can be so contemporary that it takes your breath away. For instance, the hugely popular Vana Parva or ‘Forest Section’ of the Mahabharata.The epic goes back millennia and the Vana Parva is the third of its 18 sections. It is also the longest section of ‘the world’s longest epic’, with 21 subsections and 324 chapters. It describes the 12-year stay of the Pandavas in exile and the adventures they had. In this story that I would like to retell, Rishi Markandeya teaches Yudhishthira an enduring lesson about the nature of dharma:
There was a very learned scholar called Kausika who devoted himself for many years with utmost diligence to the study of the holy books. He sought out the best teachers and was able to flawlessly recite the scriptures in full. Once, having stationed himself in the shade of a tree, he began to recite a portion of holy verses. He had barely begun when a sarus crane, perched high above him, innocently let fall its droppings on his head. Angered by this ‘disrespect’, Kausika glared at the bird with such fury that the poor creature, unable to bear the scorching heat of his gaze, fell down dead.
Gratified by this evidence of his mental power, Kausika rinsed the droppings off his head and sallied forth to beg his lunch from the townsfolk. He stopped outside a small, trim house and called aloud for alms. “Coming,” he heard a woman’s voice say and waited expectantly, alms bowl ready. The minutes went by but nobody appeared bearing food. Kausika frowned, tutted in impatience, and decided to wait just a little longer. After at least a quarter of an hour had passed, the lady of the house appeared smiling at the door with a well-filled plate of food.
“Greetings, respected sage. I am sorry to have kept you waiting,” she said in a pleasant, contrite manner. But Kausika snapped, “How dare you keep me waiting?” and glared furiously at her.
Nothing happened to the housewife. Instead she looked at him thoughtfully. “Did you think I too was a crane?” she asked in an amused voice.
Kausika was totally taken aback. “How did you know?” he said perplexedly.
“I knew, that’s all. I did not mean to keep you waiting, you know. My husband is an invalid. I was attending to him when you called, which is why it took me some time.”
“If that’s the case…” said Kausika awkwardly, wonderstruck by her omniscience.
She nodded wisely at him. “I think you have a lot of questions but I must get back to my duties. You have studied the holy books at great length but the meaning of dharma eludes you still. If you won’t take it amiss, my advice to you as a well-wisher is that you seek out the wise butcher Dharmavyadha. He will set your feet on the right path.” She smiled and went away.
Kausika wondered what he could learn from a butcher. But his curiosity was fairly caught and he inquired about the butcher’s whereabouts. As he approached the meat shop, the butcher glanced up and saw him.
“Welcome, O learned guest. I see that the good housewife directed you to me after you burned the bird with your gaze. Please come in.”
Kausika was amazed. “This is my second big surprise,” he told himself. The butcher took him home, seated him comfortably and went in to check if his elderly parents needed anything. He then asked how he could serve him. But Kausika had a question first. “If you are such a virtuous person, why do you sell meat?” he asked.
“Learned guest, my family has sold meat for generations. There is nothing improper in this. This work, too, is part of society and it is how I earn an honest living. It is not contrary to dharma or right conduct.”
“Very well, my good man, please tell me what constitutes dharma,” said Kausika.
“Practising dharma is a combination of two kinds of actions,” said the butcher musingly. “One is to hold back on negative emotions like anger, greed, jealousy, malice, unrestrained lust and untruth. The other is to be proactive in the things that build a good atmosphere and also make you feel well, things like politeness, kindness, compassion, giving gladly to the needy, being helpful and telling the truth—the virtues that hold society together.”
“Hmm. Yes, that does make sense. But I am amazed that you knew about me and so did the housewife, as if by divine instinct. How did that happen?”
“It was intuitive awareness. May I give you some personal advice if you won’t be offended?”
“Please do,” said Kausika somewhat warily.
“You went away to fulfil your ambitions, did you not—leaving your old parents to fend for themselves? They are lonely, sick and afraid. It is good to have personal goals but we cannot abandon our personal duties either. I advise you to go home and look after them with loving kindness, not out of an arid sense of duty. If you can do that, the nature of dharma will light you up and you will never be angry or dejected. Active kindness will take you to true spiritual happiness.”
Kausika winced. He thought of his mother and father trying not to weep inauspiciously when he left home without a backward glance. His mother had cooked his favourite food for his last meal at home and his father had fetched new upper and lower cloths for the dakshina or ceremonial present that Kausika would have to give the guru who accepted him.
Great waves of regret washed over Kausika, cleansing his soul of its hauteur. Well, if the holy books taught you one thing, it was not to flinch from the truth, however unpleasant, he thought ruefully. He took leave of the butcher with genuine affection and made his way home, feeling light as a cloud.
Renuka Narayanan