42. I am sure no scholar will condemn me,
but one cannot expect anything from fools.
If the learned do not stand against me,
what harm is there in madmen’s rants?
From the day our forefathers left paradise,
our very nature has been home to fault.
O people, hear my words with understanding.
Unless you understand, you have no right to criticize!
Even if one word in ten is bad,
do not launch into an attack, let it go!
Only a fool hears exquisite verse with head bowed in silence;*
only if he finds a word out of place, does he run to catch it out.
43. A story sweet as nectar I will sing to you:
O experts in love, pay attention and listen!
Such juicy matters only connoisseurs know,*
tasteless stuff is tossed out by them.
Termites run away from wood without juice;
will camels eat cane without any sugar?
Whatever has rasa, is enjoyed as such,
and the man who does not have the taste
will find even the tasteful tasteless.
Many tastes are found in the world, O connoisseurs!
But listen: I shall describe love, the royal savour of savours.
The End of the Prologue.
THE STORY OF MANOHAR AND MADHUMĀLATĪ
The Birth of Manohar
44. A story first from the age of Dvāpar*
I now recount in words in the Kali age.
The fort of Kanaigiri, fair ‘city of gold’,
was the shadow of paradise on earth.
Its King was Sūrajbhānu, ‘light of the sun’,
famed through the nine regions and the seven continents.
Countless were his horses and elephants,
matchless his grain, his wealth, his pomp and splendour.
But now his life’s sunlight grew pale and weak,
no son of his rose to shed new light.
God’s grace had given him plenty: grain, treasures, horses, and elephants.
But day and night his heart and mind were filled with longing for a son.
45. In the age of Kali, a son is a man’s second life.
Without a son, life and birth are destroyed.
A mother and father can enjoy the world
only if a son carries on their name.
Without a son, who recalls them after death?
Without a son, who gives rice-balls for the ancestors?*
Worldly life is a waste without a son.
A son is a lamp to dispel the world’s darkness.
All this is true for a good son.
May God preserve families from bad sons!
A bad son is like a sixth finger growing on one’s hand:
keep it and it is infamous, cut it off and it pains.
46. To Kanaigiri came a great ascetic,
people went to pray at his feet.
After them, came the King himself,
washed his feet, raised the water to his head.
‘The Creator is kind to have let me meet you.
Whatever I have asked for, God has always granted.
All my prayers have now been answered.
I have only one wish in my heart
which you may well be able to fulfil.’
When the holy man was deep in meditation, all the people went back home.
Only the King stayed on in the forest, serving faithfully at his feet.
47. Day and night the King served him devotedly.
He stayed awake all night, did not sleep by day.
He forgot hunger, thirst, and the ease of sleep,
and stood always in the holy man’s service.
When fully twelve years had passed,
the ascetic opened his eyes and saw him.
‘Who are you, in the form of a human?
Why are you standing here?’
‘I am the King of this city.
I have served you all of twelve years.
Treasure, horses, and elephants I have, queens and riches and stores of arms.
But God did not grant me a son: I cannot cross to the farther shore.’
48. When he heard the King’s entreaty,
the holy man was happy and blessed him,
‘Listen, O protector of the earth!
The Lord has granted you a son.’
He cooked some food and with great joy,
gave to the King a chosen morsel.
‘Give this to your favourite rani,
the one you love the most.’
The King raised the morsel to his head,
touched the ascetic’s feet and went home.
The King went to his favourite Queen and told her, ‘Eat this,
bathe and purify yourself, then withdraw from here.’
49. In his old age, the King’s despair
became transformed into hope.
To the royal house the Lord gave new hope,
and the King rejoiced, expecting his heir.
In the Queen’s tenth month,
when the Twins had entered Aries,
the mighty birth took place.
The sun was in the seventh house
and the moon was in the fifth.
Venus was stationed in the tenth,
while Jupiter was in the ninth.
When, on the tenth night, he was born,
Saturn looked down at the baby’s face.
He was the image of the God of Love,* his parents’ support and born fortunate.
The Prince was the shining light of his clan, born at an auspicious conjunction.
The Astrologers’ Prediction
50. With the dawn, the pandits came,
to count the planets and cast his horoscope.
They thought hard and assessed his qualities,
predicted that he would be a great king,
‘Gods and sages will salaam at his door,
all the kings of the world will serve him.
He will be talented, intelligent, and generous,
a hero in battle, powerful and proven.
He will be kind, profound and merciful,
and will understand the suffering of others.
The auspicious line of Rudra is on his neck, head, and feet; his sign is Leo.
He will be the shining lamp of his line. Name him Manohar, ‘heart-enchanting’.
51. ‘In his fourteenth year, on the ninth day
of the bright half of the eleventh month,
when the sun is in his birth sign
and the moon is in the seventh house,
he will meet his beloved, the love of his life.
On the night between Wednesday and Thursday,
the pain of love will be born in his heart.
The lovers will be parted and the Prince,
suffering the pain of love-in-separation,
will wander as a yogi for one whole year.
After that he will be a king in all his births,
thus do the stars predict.
His horoscope has auspicious signs, but some of the planets are hostile.
At the age of fourteen, the Prince’s heart will be consumed with grief.’
The City Celebrates
52. On the sixth night after the Prince’s birth,*
trumpets sounded in celebration.
Every house in the city rejoiced.
Joy and enthusiasm filled every home,
in every alley, the drums of happiness rang out.
People heard the news and ran to the palace,
all thirty-six serving castes* congratulated the King.
Maidens sang songs in ecstasies of joy,
fair young women with musk on their brows,
bodies anointed with sandal and aloes,*
adorned with necklaces on their breasts,
lips stained with betel,* vermilion on their heads;*
everywhere there was tumul
t, celebration.
In every house and every lane, the city rang with happiness.
Everyone sang Dhrupada and Dhruva* verses, in voices sweet and fine.
53. Joy and festivity filled the royal house.
Every subject received a gift of clothes.
To all his kin the King sent horses and silken robes,
and all the farmers in the land
were freed of taxes for the year.
And all who were unhappy in city and country,
the King made happy again through his gifts.
All the different kinds of celebrations
defy description with the poet’s tongue.
Shops were hung with rare silks. Musk, incense, and camphor
perfumed the streets; young women adorned their heads with vermilion.
54. On the twelfth day, a great feast was held,
to which the whole city was invited.
The King himself seated and fed the poor,
and horses were sent as presents to his kin.
Many were the beggars who came to his door,
grew fat on the feast served on plaintain leaves.
To the citizens of the thirty-six castes,
the King gave out the birthing gifts.
Bards returned home with fine horses,
their wives with silken saris.
To celebrate the Prince’s birth, the King made gifts of gold and silver,
food, riches, horses, elephants, jewels and pearls, until his treasury was bare.
The Prince Grows Up
55. The King found five well-born nurses,
and seven maids to play with the baby.*
Five times a day they cooked ambrosial food,
and day by day the royal Prince grew tall.
Like a flowering branch in spring,
he blossomed on a diet of warm milk.
The King and Queen rejoiced over the baby,
a greater joy than either heart could bear.
Every second, the King hugged the baby.
He gave away endless wealth for his sake.
The King revelled happily over his son, the joy of his declining years.
The days were spent in fun and frolic, the nights in joyous celebration.
56. The Prince grew older, delighting
in pleasures both day and night.
When he was five, he began to walk.
The King appointed a pandit as his teacher
at whose feet he was to learn.
Putting much wealth before the pandit,
the King said: ‘This child is yours
as much as he is my son.
Give him knowledge, do not stint,
and if I feel you accomplish this,
I will serve you every day myself.’
The King fell at the pandit’s feet, entreating him, ‘Make no mistakes,
Nurture him with the love you and I have known since childhood.’
57. The pandit taught the Prince well
that each word had several meanings.*
He taught him yoga and the science of sex,
drew pictures and explained their meanings.
Soon the Prince became so clever
he could explain many levels of mystery in scripture.
He taught him the true meanings*
of the Yogasūtra* and the Amarakośa,*
poetics and prosody and the Kokaśāstra.*
Who could match the Prince
in grammar, astrology or the Gītā,*
in the arts of meaning, poetry or song?
The Prince studied many other books of knowledge and practice,
he became so skilled that no one could defeat him in debate.
58. The Prince was occupied with learning and the arts
until he reached the age of twelve.
Then he took up the science of war,
in all the forms the world had known.
He was adept at sword and shield,
dagger, spear, and the skill of wrestling.
At bow and arrow he had no equal.
He could shatter a pearl tied on one’s hair.
When he took up his bow of horn,
the celestial rainbow hid itself in shame.
A hero in battle, full of knowledge and virtue, adept in all the fourteen sciences,
he was great in fortune and wisdom, the image of the maddening God of Love.
Manohar Become King
59. Now do I sing of the events of his twelfth year.
Spontaneously this thought arose within the King:
‘I am old and cannot keep my health for long.
Let me take the Prince and crown him king.’
He summoned his subjects and close family,
as many relatives as lived within the city,
and took counsel with them all:
‘I am pale and yellow with age
like the rays of the setting sun.
If the council agrees today, I shall entrust
the running of this kingdom to the Prince.
A man’s begetting a son in old age, a woman’s fresh youth without a husband—
who can control them? They are like springtime in a barren land.
60. ‘What use have I for property now?
If you agree, I will make the Prince your king.
I would be free of the worries of the world.
My son can delight in the pleasures of kingship.
If you allow it, I will crown him King.
Then I can chant the name of Hari,
and seek to cross to the further shore.’
The populace, his relatives, his vassals and courtiers,
all were overjoyed to hear the Prince’s name.
Everyone was delighted by the King’s address,
and began to celebrate with great enthusiasm.
Festivities resounded in all directions, through the seven continents and the nine regions,
when the King announced that he would grant Prince Manohar the realm.
61. On Thursday, in the sign of the Twins,
in the bright half of the month of Caitra,*
when the moon was cool and clear,
the King called the Prince to him.
When the Prince arrived the King stood up,
and the Prince bowed and touched his feet.
The King embraced him, then seated him on the throne.
His father was first to pay him homage,
and then the entire kingdom bowed to him.
The King took off his crown and placed it on Manohar’s head.
The city erupted with joy and enthusiasm; the whole world blessed the new King.
62. All the nobles and vassals there assembled,
at royal command bent their heads to the Prince.
The news was heard in the seven continents
and the nine regions of the earth,
from sunrise to sunset his fame resounded.
The word rang out through the circle of the earth:
by throne and realm he was the ruler of the world.
The triple world followed his orders,
and acknowledged him as their Lord.
The Prince’s writ ran throughout
the length and breadth of the Creator’s universe.
From east to west, the entire earth—gods, men, sages and celestials—
obeyed all of the Prince’s commands and served him constantly.
The Prediction Fulfilled
63. The Prince lived happily for a long time,
all the days of happiness his horoscope foretold.
After fourteen years and eleven months
came the dawn that destroyed his pleasure and play.
Then the sad days ruled by hostile planets
came and engulfed the Prince.
The sun was bright in the sign of Leo.
The moon, decked out with the sixteen adornments,*
had entered the circle of the heavens.
on a night bet
ween Wednesday and Thursday
as the Creator had written in the book of fate,
the fatal blow fell on the Prince.
The lines of loss and gain and sorrow written on one’s forehead
cannot be erased by all three worlds, even acting all together.
64. Now listen to the origin of love’s savour,
and how the Prince became mad with the wine of love.
One day, dancers came from a foreign land,
who performed the amazing dances of the south.
The Prince had always loved dancing,
and had them dance at his court day and night.
When he saw their bewitching performance,
he sent silken robes and invited them to his assembly.
Sūrajbhānu came and took his seat,
together with all the nobles of the realm.
Midnight fell as they watched the dancing, and the old King grew sleepy.
The company rose, the beautiful dancers left, and the Prince retired to bed.
65. Who could describe the Prince’s bed or couch?
I must tell only the tale that’s to be told.
The moment the Prince was united with his bed,
drowsiness descended, sweet sleep overcame him.
Sleep seized his eyelids which had stayed apart.
Like yogis who practise sexual union,
or parted lovers, his lashes came together.
God created sleep to be the greatest comfort,
for eyes which are free from the grit of love.
How could the Maker in his wisdom call love happiness and ease?
How can I describe love, that lodges in the eye, except as painful grit?
66. The happy are intoxicated with happiness,
while the sad grieve in their sorrows,
but pleasure and pain both fly away
from eyes which are visited by sleep.
Sleep can be both good and bad:
he alone is awake who knows the difference.*
The world should not criticize sleep, my friend,
many have attained perfection through it.
Only the man who knows truly how to sleep,
can taste the joy of the wine of love.
The true sleeper behaves alike in sleep and when he is awake.
I do not praise that sleep, however, which kills a man as he lives.
67. O ignorant man, sleep not that sleep
that makes a man lifeless while yet he lives.
Sleep to the world is a lesser death,*
but excessive sleep is truly death itself.
Just as the delights and kingdoms of our sleep
amount to nothing when we wake,
just as the inspirations of our dreams
prove false on awaking,
both sleeping and waking within this world
should be regarded as unreal.
A raging fire is this world’s sleep, a flame which destroys all it touches.
Madhumalati Page 8
