Panchatantra

by Vishnu Sharma

  The crows and the owls were old enemies, and there was little love lost between the two colonies of birds. Every night, seeking revenge for old hurts, Arimardana the owl would circle the crows’ banyan tree, and kill any crow that crossed his path. He would then fly away to the safety of his cave. Over time, Arimardana killed a great number of crows in this way.

  Such happenings are inevitable in the world, for it is said that those who, out of laziness or indifference, ignore an enemy or a disease and take no steps to destroy one or stop the other, will in time be overcome and destroyed by them.

  One day, Meghavarna called a meeting of his ministers and said, ‘Our enemy is persevering and determined. He is clever too and knows how to use time and circumstances to his advantage. He attacks only at night, knowing that we cannot see in the dark and are therefore powerless to defend ourselves. We are as helpless during the day, for, though we can see, we do not know where he and his subjects live. His attacks grow more ferocious every night. What shall we do? Should we make peace? Launch an attack? Retreat? Or make a stand? Should we ask our allies for help? Or should we, through intrigue and deceit, cause discord amongst his followers? These, as you know, are the six ways to tackle an enemy. Tell me, which one should we adopt?’

  The ministers nodded and said, ‘Sire, it is good and right that you have asked us our opinion, for only when the king asks can a minister say what he really thinks. And having once asked his opinion, the king must give his minister a hearing, even if what the minister says is harsh or unpleasant. Given the urgency of the situation, it is best that each of us states his opinion at once so that you can decide what to do.’

  ‘Very well,’ agreed the king, and turned to the first minister, who was called Ujjivi.

  Ujjivi cleared his throat and said, ‘Sire, it is not wise to wage war against an enemy stronger than ourselves. Arimardana the owl is not only powerful, he is also clever and knows the right moment to attack us. It is unlikely that we will be able to defeat him. So I recommend that we make peace with him and his people.’

  Then Meghavarna turned to the second minister, who was called Sanjivi, and asked, ‘What do you think, my friend? What should we do?’

  ‘Sire, Ujjivi’s counsel that we make peace with our enemy, I do not like,’ replied Sanjivi. ‘Arimardana the owl is cruel and unscrupulous, and cannot be trusted to honour any treaty we may make with him. Peace with him will never last. There is no point in proposing peace to an enemy who is without honour and has no respect for truth or justice. No matter how binding the treaty, such a one will always break it. So, I recommend that we declare war on Arimardana and his people and attack them.’

  The king then turned to the third minister, who was called Anujivi. ‘And what do you say, my friend?’ he asked.

  ‘Sire,’ said Anujivi, ‘our enemy is stronger than we are, so we cannot fight him. He is also unscrupulous and without honour, so we cannot make peace with him. Therefore, in my opinion, we should withdraw from this conflict and move away somewhere else.’

  The king looked at the fourth minister, who was called Prajivi. ‘What is your advice?’ he asked.

  ‘Sire,’ replied Prajivi, ‘I think that these three suggestions of peace, attack and retreat are useless. In my opinion, we must stay where we are and make a stand against the enemy. One is always stronger in one’s own environment. As they say, a crocodile can kill an elephant in the water, but cannot fight even a dog on land. A single archer, well-positioned, can kill a hundred soldiers. If, intimidated by the owls, we flee our home, we will never be able to return, never see our beloved tree again. So, I would say, our best course of action is to stay where we are and stand firm against the owls.’

  ‘Hmm,’ said the king, considering. Then, turning to the fifth minister, who was called Chiranjivi, he asked, ‘And what, my friend, do you think is our best course of action?’

  ‘Sire,’ said Chiranjivi, ‘to me it seems that our best course of action would be to seek the help of our friends and allies. As it has been said, a man may be strong and powerful, but if he doesn’t have friends, what can he do? See how even a blazing fire dies down in the absence of a wind to fan its flames. So I say that we ask our friends for help.’

  Meghavarna now turned to the oldest of his counsellors, a crow named Sthirajivi. The old minister was wise and experienced, and learned in all matters of statecraft. He had also served the king’s father long and well, and Meghavarna trusted his judgement in all matters. ‘Sir,’ he respectfully addressed the old minister, ‘you have heard the opinions of the others. Each minister has put forward his point of view. Now please advise me—which one is the right course of action for me to follow?’

  ‘My son,’ replied the old crow, ‘your ministers have advised you in accordance with all the rules of statecraft. Each of their solutions will work well, but under different circumstances. In our present situation, the only course of action that will give you the desired result is deceit. Intrigue is the only effective weapon against a strong enemy. So you must plot and scheme, and eliminate your enemy through duplicity and double-dealing. Discover his weaknesses, and then destroy him.’

  ‘How can I discover his weaknesses,’ protested the king, ‘when I do not even know where he lives?’

  ‘Leave that to me, my son. I will send out my spies and secret agents and through them discover not only where he lives but all his flaws and weaknesses,’ answered Sthirajivi. ‘Animals discover the world through their sense of smell, scholars through their books, ordinary men with their two eyes, and kings through their spies. The king who, through his spies and secret agents, keeps an eye on his enemies as well as his allies, is never caught unawares.’

  ‘First tell me, revered sir,’ said Meghavarna, ‘what is the reason for this deadly enmity between the crows and owls?’

  In reply, Sthirajivi related the story of how the birds picked a king.

  The Story of How the Birds Chose a King

  Once upon a time, the birds of the world—including the swan, the parrot, the stork, the koel, the cuckoo, the pigeon, the owl, the rooster, the partridge, and every other kind of bird there is—gathered together in a great assembly. They were angry and distressed with their king, the eagle Garuda, who, as we all know, is a devotee of Lord Vishnu.

  ‘Our king,’ said the swan, ‘is so engrossed in the service of Lord Vishnu that he has no time to think about us. He is too busy flying Lord Vishnu here and there around the universe to worry about us. When we get caught in the hunter’s net, or become the target of his arrows, our king is never there to help us. Though there is no doubt that he is the strongest and wisest of all the birds, he is of no use as a king.’

  ‘A people without a king who cares for them are like a rudderless boat adrift upon the sea—they will ultimately perish, just as the boat will ultimately sink under the waves and be destroyed!’ said the parrot.

  ‘A good king,’ continued the peacock, ‘is one to whom we can turn in times of trouble, who will listen to our woes, and keep us safe from our enemies!’

  ‘We need a new king, one who will be there for us, not absent on some other business!’ twittered all the other birds in agreement. ‘Let us choose a new king for ourselves,’ they declared.

  Looking around for a likely candidate, the birds noticed the owl, who had been sitting calmly and quite unruffled through all the excited twittering and chirping. His grave and gracious demeanour impressed them deeply. ‘The owl shall be our new king,’ cried all the birds together. ‘Let us anoint him and crown him our ruler at once!’ And the birds rushed here and there to make arrangements for his coronation.

  Soon, everything was ready. A great throne of shining gold had been set up under a canopy of wild flowers, herbs and fragrant blossoms strewn upon the ground, and pitchers of holy water stood up all around. In the centre had been lit the sacred fire, and priests had already begun to chant the mantras for the well-being of the king. As dusk began to fall, rows of earthenware lamps were lit
. The owl now took his place upon the throne of gold, and the ceremonies to crown him king were about to begin.

  Just then, who should come flying by but the crow. He had missed the news of the great assembly, and seeing the birds gathered together in such a large crowd, he decided to investigate. ‘What’s going on? What festivities am I missing? What great celebration is this?’ he cawed cheerfully.

  When the other birds saw the crow, they were delighted. ‘The crow is the cleverest and most intelligent of all birds,’ they said to each other. ‘We must ask him what he thinks of our choice of king!’ And turning to the crow they said, ‘You have come at a very opportune moment! We have chosen the owl to be our new king and are making ready to crown him. We would be honoured to hear your opinion on the matter.’

  The crow laughed and said, ‘I cannot approve of your choice! Why have you chosen the owl—who is blind by day and so ungainly and dreadful to look at? You have the majestic peacock, the graceful swan, the sweet-voiced koel, the clever parrot, the dependable duck, the regal sarus crane . . . you could have chosen any one of them to be king instead. The owl is a hunter, a fierce, ferocious and cruel bird. His speech is harsh, his demeanour unpleasant. What good fortune do you expect by choosing such a disagreeable bird to be your king?

  ‘Besides, you already have the divine eagle Garuda for your king. Why then choose someone as devoid of good qualities as the owl for your king? Even if the owl had been possessed of every virtue, I see no sense in choosing another king. Garuda is so mighty that his name alone is enough to frighten away your enemies. It has been said, and truly so

  The mere mention of a great man’s name

  Is often enough to achieve peace and security—

  The mere mention of the moon’s name

  Ensured safety for the rabbits that dwelt by the lake.’

  ‘And how did that happen?’ asked the birds.

  So the crow related the story of the rabbits and the elephants.

  The Story of the Rabbits and the Elephants

  In a certain forest, there lived a herd of wild elephants. Their chief was a huge old male called Chaturadanta.

  Once, a great drought hit the forest. No rain fell for several years, and slowly all the ponds, lakes, springs, streams and waterfalls dried up. The animals of the forest began to die of thirst. The elephants too were suffering. At last, they approached Chaturadanta and said, ‘Sire, we can bear this drought no longer. Our little ones are falling ill and dying. We must search for water, so that the little elephants may become strong and well again.’

  Chaturadanta thought for a while, and then said, ‘I know of a large lake several days’ march from here. It is fed by an underground spring, and is therefore always full of water. We could go there.’

  The elephants agreed and the herd set off for the lake. After walking without pause or rest for five days and five nights, they reached the lake. It was as large and full of water as Chaturadanta had remembered. The elephants drank as much of the sweet, fresh water as they could, and splashed and bathed in the lake to their hearts’ content. As the sun began to set and evening fell, the happy elephants climbed out of the lake, refreshed and relaxed.

  Now, in the soft earth all around the lake were hundreds of burrows belonging to a large colony of rabbits. As the elephants wandered here and there around the lake, they stepped, quite unknowingly, upon these burrows, destroying and crushing to death the rabbits living in them. After a while, the elephants gathered together and went back the way they had come, disappearing into their own forest.

  ‘Oh, what shall we do?’ cried the surviving rabbits in despair. ‘Now that these huge, clumsy fellows know about our lake, they will come here again and again and step and stamp upon our homes till they have killed us all!’

  ‘We must leave this place at once!’ said one of the rabbits. ‘That is the only way to escape complete annihilation!’

  ‘No, no, friend, we cannot leave this place,’ said another. ‘The shores of this lake have been home to generations of rabbits—to our parents, our grandparents, our great-grandparents, and now to us and our children. We cannot abandon our home because of these clumsy, careless elephants. No, we must think of a way to scare them off so that they never return!’

  ‘Well, I know a way to make sure the elephants stay away,’ said a wise old rabbit. ‘As you all know, our king, Vijayadatta, lives on the moon. You have all seen him yourself when the moon is full. So let us send a messenger to the chief of the elephants. Let this messenger pretend that he comes not from us, but from Lord Chandrama, the moon god himself, with orders forbidding Chaturadanta and his herd to visit the lake. If the elephant chief believes the messenger, he and his herd will go away.’

  The other rabbits agreed that it was a good plan and must be carried out right away. ‘But we need a very clever rabbit to play the role of messenger,’ cautioned the old rabbit. ‘He must be able to convince Chaturadanta that he truly comes from Lord Chandrama.’

  ‘Lambakarna is the most intelligent amongst us all! He should be the messenger!’ declared the other rabbits. And so Lambakarna was sent to talk to the elephants.

  Lambakarna hopped off in the direction taken by the elephants. Taking shortcuts and secret routes known only to him, he had soon overtaken the elephants. Taking care not to be seen, he ran ahead of them and placed himself upon a little hill that lay along their path. As the chief of the elephants, Chaturadanta, approached with his herd, Lambakarna called out to him. ‘Stop, you wicked elephant!’ he cried. ‘How dared you defile the moon god’s lake with your presence? Don’t ever come back here again!’

  ‘Who are you?’ asked Chaturadanta, taken aback.

  ‘My name is Lambakarna, and I bring a message for you from Lord Chandrama, the moon god.’

  ‘Please tell me what the message is, and I will obey at once,’ replied Chaturadanta, alarmed.

  ‘Lord Chandrama orders that you and your elephant herd never return to this lake again. When you visited the lake, you crushed to death hundreds of rabbits and hurt and injured thousands more. The rabbits are Lord Chandrama’s subjects and under his special protection. If you ever harm them again, Lord Chandrama himself will come down to earth and destroy you!’

  Chaturadanta trembled to hear the rabbit’s words. ‘Where is Lord Chandrama now?’ he asked.

  ‘Well, he has come down to the lake to comfort the survivors of your clumsiness!’ retorted Lambakarna.

  ‘Take me to him. I will meet him and personally apologize to him.’

  Lambakarna led Chaturadanta back to the lake. By now, night had fallen, and the full moon, riding high in the clear sky, was reflected in the still waters of the lake. ‘There he is, Lord Chandrama himself,’ declared Lambakarna, pointing to the moon’s reflection.

  Chaturadanta bowed reverently to the moon’s reflection, offered his most sincere apologies, and, promising never to visit the lake or bother the rabbits again, turned around and went away. The rabbits were never bothered by the elephants again and lived in peace and safety upon the shores of their lake.

  ‘And that is why I say,’ concluded the crow, ‘that often a great man’s name alone is enough to get you out of trouble.’ Ruffling his feathers and flapping his wings, he continued, ‘One more thing—if you hope for prosperity, never choose a scoundrel for a king. This owl is a vile and evil bird, and quite uninterested in your welfare. He is selfish and unscrupulous and cannot be relied on to rule over you with justice and fairness. After all,

  Expecting justice from a vicious cat

  The hare and the sparrow were killed.’

  ‘Oh, and how did that happen?’ asked the birds.

  So the crow told them the story of the hare, the sparrow and the cat.

  The Story of the Hare, the Sparrow and the Cat

  Once (said the crow), I used to live upon a certain tree. In a hollow in the same tree there lived a sparrow called Kapinjala. Every evening, as the sun went down, we would sit together on our tree and disc
uss the day’s happenings and tell each other of the strange and wonderful things that we had seen. In this way, we became firm friends.

  One morning, Kapinjala flew off as usual in search of food. I waited for his return in the evening as always, but that day he did not come back. As the hours passed, I grew more and more anxious. I waited all night for my friend, and soon it was morning. There was still no sign of Kapinjala, and I grew convinced that something terrible had happened to him. He had either been caught in a trap, I thought, or worse, he had been killed.

  Just then a hare came lolloping by. Seeing Kapinjala’s empty hollow in the tree, the hare climbed in and made himself at home. I had given up all hope for my friend’s return, so I, too, did not say anything to the hare, but let him remain.

  Now, as it happened, Kapinjala came back the very next night! He, together with some other sparrows, had found a field of ripened grain, and had been so busy filling their little tummies that they had quite forgotten to return home. When they had eaten as much as they could, they had thought of their cosy nests and comfortable hollows again and come flying back.

  Kapinjala was most annoyed to see the hare in his house. ‘Hey, you there! Why are you in my house? Get out at once!’ he scolded.

  But the hare refused to come out. ‘This is my house now,’ he said. ‘Don’t you know that your right of residence in lakes, ponds, rivers, streams, temples and trees holds good only as long as you occupy a particular spot? Once you go away, the spot belongs to whoever takes your place. You have no right to claim it back. This is a law that has been stated in all the books! So go away! This house is now mine, not yours.’

  ‘Is that so?’ retorted the sparrow. ‘If you will argue books with me, then let us put our case before someone who is learned in law. Let him decide whose house this is!’