32. RISHYASRINGA :

IT is an error to think that it is easy for a
person to lead a life of chastity if he is
brought up in complete ignorance of
sensual pleasures. Virtue guarded only by
ignorance is very insecure as illustrated by
the following story. It is told in the
Ramayana also, but not in the same detail.
Vibhandaka who was resplendent like
Brahma, the Creator, lived with his son
Rishyasringa in a forest. The latter had not
come across any mortal, man or woman,
except his father.

The country of Anga was once afflicted
with a dire famine. Crops had withered for
want of rain and men perished for lack of
food. All living things were in distress.
Romapada, the king of the country,
approached the brahmanas to advise him
of some means of saving the kingdom
from famine.

The brahmanas replied: "Best of kings,
there is a young sage called Rishyasringa
who lives a life of perfect chastity. Invite
him to our kingdom. He has won the
power, by his austerities, of bringing rain
and plenty wherever he goes."

The king discussed with his courtiers the
means by which Rishyasringa could be
brought from the hermitage of the sage
Vibhandaka. In accordance with their
advice, he called together the most
charming courtesans of the city and
entrusted them with the mission of
bringing Rishyasringa to Anga.

The damsels were in a quandary. On the
one hand, they feared to disobey the king.
On the other, they also feared the sage's
wrath. Finally, they made up their minds
to go, relying on Providence to help them,
in achieving the good work of rescuing
the stricken land from famine.

They were suitably equipped for their
enterprise before being sent to the
hermitage. The leader of this band of
courtesans made a beautiful garden of a
big boat, with artificial trees and creepers,
with an imitation ashrama in the center.

She had the boat moored in the river near
Vibhandaka's hermitage, and the
courtesans visited the hermitage with
quaking hearts. Luckily for them, the sage
was not at home. Feeling that this was the
opportune moment, one of the beautiful
damsels went to the sage's son.

She thus addressed Rishyasringa: "Great
sage, are you well? Have you sufficient
roots and fruits? Are the penances of the
rishis of the forest proceeding
satisfactorily? Is your father's glory
constantly growing? Is your own study of
the Vedas progressing?" This was how
rishis used to accost one another in those
days.

The youthful anchorite had never before
seen such a beautiful human form or heard
such a sweet voice.

The instinctive yearning for society,
especially of the opposite sex, though he
had never seen a woman before, began to
work on his mind from the moment he
beheld that graceful form.

He thought that she was a young sage like
himself, and felt a strange irrepressible joy
surging up in his soul. He answered,
fixing eyes on his interlocutor:

"You seem to be a bright brahmacharin.
Who are you? I bow to you. Where is
your hermitage? What are the austerities
you are practising?" and he rendered her
the customary offerings.

She said to him: "At a distance of three
yojanas from here is my ashrama. I have
brought fruits for you. I am not fit to
receive your prostration, but I shall return
your greetings and salutation in the way
customary with us." She embraced him
warmly, fed him with the sweets she had
brought, decorated him with perfumed
garlands, and served him with drinks.

She embraced him again, saying that that
was their way of salutation to honored
guests. He thought it a very agreeable
way.

Shortly after, fearing the return of the sage
Vibhandaka, the courtesan took her leave
of Rishyasringa saying it was time for her
to perform the agnihotra sacrifice and
gently slipped out of the hermitage.

When Vibhandaka returned to the
hermitage, he was shocked to see the
place so untidy with sweet meats scattered
all over, for the hermitage had not been
cleansed. The shrubs and creepers looked
draggled and untidy.

His son's face had not its usual lustre but
seemed clouded and disturbed as by a
storm of passion. The usual simple duties
of the hermitage had been neglected.

Vibhandaka was troubled and asked his
son: "Dear boy, why have you not yet
gathered the sacred firewood? Who has
broken these nice plants and shrubs? Has
the cow been milked? Has anyone been
here to serve you? Who gave you this
strange garland? Why do you appear
worried?"

The simple and ingenuous Rishyasringa
replied: "A brahmacharin of wonderful
form was here. I cannot describe his
brightness and beauty or the sweetness of
his voice. My inner being has been filled
with indescribable happiness and affection
by listening to his voice and looking at his
eyes. When he embraced me, which it
seems is his customary greeting, I
experienced a joy which I have never felt
before, no, not even when eating the
sweetest fruits," and then he described to
his father the form, beauty and the doings
of his fair visitor.

Rishyasringa added wistfully: "My body
seems to burn with desire for the company
of that brahmacharin and I should like to
go and find him and bring him here
somehow. How can I give you any idea
about his devotion and brightness? My
heart pants to see him."

When Rishyasringa had thus brokenly
expressed yearnings and disturbances to
which he had hitherto been a stranger,
Vibhandaka knew what had occurred. He
said: "Child, this was no brahmacharin
that you saw, but a malignant demon who
sought, as demons do, to beguile us and
hinder our penances and austerities. They
take recourse to many kinds of tricks and
stratagems for the purpose. Do not let
them come near you."

After that Vibhandaka searched in vain
for three days in the forest to find out the
wretches who had done this injury, and
returned baffled it his purpose.

On another occasion, when Vibhandaka
had gone out of the hermitage to bring
roots and fruits, the courtesan again came
softly to the place where Rishyasringa
was seated. As soon as he saw her at a
distance, Rishyasringa jumped up and ran
to greet her gushingly, as pent up water
surges out of a reservoir that has sprung a
leak.

Even without waiting for prompting this
time, Rishyasringa went near her and after
the customary salutation said: "O shining
brahmacharin, before my father returns let
us go to your hermitage."

This was just what she had hoped and
worked for. And together they entered the
boat, which had been made to look like a
hermitage. As soon as the young sage had
entered, the boat was freed from its
moorings and floated easily down with its
welcome freight to the kingdom of Anga.

As might be expected, the young sage had
a pleasant and interesting journey and
when he reached Anga, he certainly knew
more about the world and its ways than he
had done in the forest.

The coming of Rishyasringa delighted
Romapada infinitely and he took his
welcome guest to the luxuriously provided
inner apartments specially prepared for
him.

As foretold by the brahmanas, rain began
to pour the instant Rishyasringa set his
foot in the country. The rivers and the
lakes were full and the people rejoiced.
Romapada gave his daughter Shanta in
marriage to Rishyasringa.

Though all ended as he had planned, the
king was uneasy in his mind, for he was
afraid that Vibhandaka might come in
search of his son and pronounce a curse
on him.

So, he sought to mollify Vibhandaka by
lining the route he would take with cattle
and kind and by instructing the cowherds
in charge to say that they were
Rishyasringa's servants and had come to
welcome and honor their master's father
and place themselves at his service.

Not finding his son anywhere in the
hermitage, the enraged Vibhandaka
thought that this might be the work of the
king of Anga.

He crossed intervening rivers and villages
and marched to the capital of the king as if
to burn him in his anger. But as at each
stage of the journey he saw magnificent
cattle which belonged to his son and was
respectfully welcomed by his son's
servants, his angry mood passed gradually
as he approached the capital.

When he came to the capital, he was
received with great honor and taken to the
king's palace where he saw his son sitting
in state like the king of the gods in
heaven. He saw by his side his wife, the
princess Shanta, whose great beauty
soothed and pleased him.

Vibhandaka blessed the king. He laid this
injunction on his son: "Do all that will
please this king. After the birth of a son,
come and join me in the forest."
Rishyasringa did as his father bade him.

Lomasa concluded the story with these
words addressed to Yudhishthira: "Like
Damayanti and Nala, Sita and Rama,
Arundhati and Vasishtha, Lopamudra and
Agastya, and Draupadi and yourself,
Shanta and Rishyasringa repaired to the
forest in the fullness of time and spent
their lives in mutual love and the worship
of God. This is the hermitage where
Rishyasringa. lived. Bathe in these waters
and be purified." The Pandavas bathed
there and performed their devotions.