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Arjuna at the Ganga
After Vyasa departed, the Pandavas bowed to their host, took their leave, and set out toward Panchala in good spirits, with Kunti walking ahead. Traveling north by day and night, they reached a sacred shrine of Shiva, who bears the crescent moon, and then came to the Ganga. Arjuna led with a torch, lighting the way and guarding them against wild animals. In that secluded place, a proud king of the Gandharvas was enjoying the river with his wives. Their approaching footsteps angered him. Seeing the brothers and their mother, he bent his bow into a circle and warned them away. “The twilight before nightfall, except for its first 40 seconds, belongs to the Yakshas, Gandharvas, and Rakshasas, who can travel wherever they wish. The rest of the time is for human affairs. If people approach us during those moments out of greed for gain, we and the Rakshasas kill them. Those who know the Vedas never praise people who visit a pool at such an hour, even kings leading their armies. Stay back. Do you not know that I am bathing in the Bhagirathi? I am Angaraparna, a Gandharva who relies on his own strength. I am proud, and I am Kubera’s friend. This forest on the Ganga bears my name, Angaraparna. Here I enjoy whatever pleases my senses. Even gods, Kapalikas, Gandharvas, and Yakshas cannot enter. How dare you approach the brightest jewel in Kubera’s crown?”
Angaraparna had claimed both the hour and the forest for beings of his kind. Arjuna answered by naming places whose access no one could close to others: the sea, the Himalayas, and the Ganga. “Fool, who can bar anyone from the sea, the slopes of the Himalayas, or this river, whether it is day, night, or twilight? A person may come to the Ganga hungry or well fed, by day or by night. No special time governs access to the foremost of rivers. We have strength of our own and have no concern about the hour at which we disturb you. Those too weak to fight can worship you. This river comes from the golden summits of the Himalayas and reaches the ocean through seven streams: the Ganga, Yamuna, Saraswati, Vitashtha, Sarayu, Gomati, and Gandaki. Drinking their water cleanses people of every sin. In heaven this sacred Ganga is called Alakananda. Among the ancestors it is Vaitarani, difficult for sinners to cross. Krishna-Dwaipayana himself has said so. Its sacred, auspicious waters are free from danger and can lead to heaven those who touch them. Why would you keep us away? Your action violates enduring virtue. Why should we obey you and give up touching the holy Bhagirathi, from which no one can exclude us?” Arjuna invoked the river’s course through the human, heavenly, and ancestral worlds. The Ganga, also named Bhagirathi in their exchange, was the sacred water his family had come to reach. He disputed the Gandharva’s authority to place it off limits.
Angaraparna responded with arrows, drawing his bow fully and shooting shafts like venomous snakes at the brothers. Arjuna used his shield and the torch in his hand to ward them off. “Do not try to terrify men trained in weapons,” he said. “Weapons hurled at them disappear like foam. Since I consider the Gandharvas more powerful than human beings, I will fight you with a celestial weapon, using no deception. This weapon of fire passed from Brihaspati, Indra’s revered teacher, to Bharadwaja. Bharadwaja gave it to Agniveshya, who gave it to my teacher Drona, and Drona gave it to me.” Arjuna released the blazing weapon in anger. It burned the Gandharva’s chariot in an instant. The force of the attack knocked its owner unconscious, and he began falling headfirst. Arjuna caught the flower-decked hair on his head and dragged him toward his brothers. The Gandharva’s wife Kumbhinasi ran to Yudhishthira for protection. “Save me,” she pleaded. “Set my husband free. I am Kumbhinasi, his wife, and I seek refuge with you.” Seeing her distress, Yudhishthira addressed Arjuna. “Who would kill an enemy already defeated, deprived of his reputation and strength, with a woman pleading for his safety?” The victory had left Angaraparna unconscious and in Arjuna’s power. Kumbhinasi’s appeal brought the question of his life before Yudhishthira, and Arjuna obeyed his elder brother’s decision. “Keep your life, Gandharva. Go, and do not grieve. Yudhishthira, king of the Kurus, has commanded me to spare you.”
The gist: Angaraparna tried to bar the Pandavas from the Ganga at twilight. Arjuna rejected his claim and, when attacked, burned the Gandharva’s chariot with a celestial weapon. Kumbhinasi sought protection for her husband, and Yudhishthira ordered that the defeated enemy be spared.
The Gandharva’s gifts and counsel
The defeated Gandharva spoke to Arjuna about the change the encounter had brought. “You have overcome me. I will give up my former name, Angaraparna, the blazing vehicle. With my pride in my strength broken, I should not preserve a boast in my name alone. I am fortunate to have met you, a wielder of celestial weapons. I want to give you the knowledge of illusion that belongs to the Gandharvas. Your fiery weapon has burned my beautiful, many-colored chariot. Once I was named for its splendor; now my name should recall its burning. Through austerity I obtained the knowledge I offer you, and today I will pass it to the man who has given me life. What good fortune should be denied someone who defeats an enemy and then spares him at his request? This knowledge is called Chakshushi. Manu taught it to Soma, Soma to Vishvavasu, and Vishvavasu to me. In my hands, lacking the energy it deserves, its power is gradually becoming fruitless. You have heard its origin and transmission. Here is what it can do: whoever possesses it can see whatever he wishes, in any way he wishes, whether as a whole or in detail. Ordinarily, obtaining it requires standing on one leg for 6 months. I will teach it to you without requiring that vow. It is this knowledge that makes Gandharvas superior to human beings. Through spiritual sight we can see everything, and in that respect we equal the gods.”
“I also intend to give you and each of your brothers 100 horses born in the Gandharva country,” he continued. “Their colors are celestial, and their speed is that of thought. They carry gods and Gandharvas. Even when lean, they never tire or lose their speed. Long ago, the thunderbolt was made for Indra to kill Vritra. When hurled against Vritra’s head, it broke into 1,000 fragments. The gods honor those fragments. What the three worlds call glory is itself part of that thunderbolt. The hand with which a Brahmin pours offerings into fire, the chariot from which a Kshatriya fights, the charity of a Vaishya, and the service a Shudra renders to the other three orders are all portions of it. Horses are part of the Kshatriya’s chariot, and for that reason they are said to be incapable of being slain. They are also the offspring of Vadava. Those born among the Gandharvas can travel anywhere and take on whatever color or speed their owner wishes. The horses I offer will fulfill your desires.” Arjuna declined a gift made in gratitude for survival. “If you give me your knowledge and horses because I spared your life in danger, I will not accept them.” The Gandharva proposed an exchange. “Meeting someone of your distinction is itself a joy, and you have also given me life. I want to teach you. To keep the obligation from resting entirely on one side, I will take your excellent, enduring weapon of fire in return.” Arjuna agreed to accept the horses in exchange for the weapon and wished that their friendship would last forever. The terms now included a return gift from the man who had spared him, allowing the defeated Gandharva to form a friendship with Arjuna. He then asked why human beings had reason to fear Gandharvas, and why they, as warriors who knew the Vedas and followed virtue, had been rebuked for traveling at night.
The Gandharva answered. “You have completed your studies but have no wives. You belong to no settled stage of life, and you have no Brahmin walking ahead of you. Those are the reasons I censured you. Yakshas, Rakshasas, Gandharvas, Pisachas, Uragas, and Danavas possess understanding and know the history of the Kurus. I have heard Narada and other celestial sages recount your ancestors’ good deeds. Traveling across the earth bounded by the seas, I have witnessed your family’s power myself. I know your teacher, Bharadwaja’s son, whose mastery of the Vedas and weapons is celebrated throughout the three worlds. I also know Dharma, Vayu, Indra, the two Ashvins, and Pandu, the six divine and human fathers through whom your line continues. I know that all five of you are learned, noble, brave, virtuous, faithful to vows, and outstanding in the use of weapons. Even knowing the quality of your minds and hearts and the excellence of your conduct, I rebuked you. A strong man cannot patiently bear an insult before his wife. Our strength increases during the dark hours, and I had my wife with me. I became angry.” He had recognized their lineage and their teacher all along. His explanation of the rebuke rested on their present circumstances and on his own anger at being approached while his wife was with him.
“Yet you defeated me,” he went on. “Brahmacharya, the disciplined life of celibacy, is an excellent condition. You are living in it, Arjuna, and that is why you overcame me. A married Kshatriya who fights us at night cannot escape alive. A married warrior consecrated by spiritual power, however, who has entrusted the cares of his state to a priest, can defeat all beings who wander by night. Descendant of Tapati, people should therefore engage learned priests who have mastered themselves, in order to secure the good fortune they desire. A Brahmin fit to be a king’s priest knows the Vedas and their six branches, is pure and truthful, follows virtue, and controls his senses. A king whose priest understands duty, speaks skillfully, and lives with purity and good conduct remains victorious and finally reaches heaven. Choose an accomplished priest to help you obtain what you lack and protect what you possess. A ruler who follows such guidance can acquire the whole earth surrounded by the seas. Descendant of Tapati, courage and noble birth alone cannot win land for a king without a Brahmin. A kingdom in which Brahmins possess authority endures.”
The gist: The Gandharva offered Chakshushi knowledge and 100 horses for each brother. Arjuna agreed to an exchange involving his fire weapon. Their new friend explained his anger, credited Arjuna’s discipline for the victory, and urged the princes to obtain a learned, self-controlled priest.
Tapati and Samvarana
Arjuna wanted to understand a name the Gandharva had repeatedly used for him. “You call me Tapatya. We are Kunti’s sons, so I understand why we are called Kaunteyas. But who is Tapati, that we should be named after her?” The Gandharva began a story celebrated throughout the three worlds. “Vivaswat, the Sun, whose light fills the sky, had a daughter named Tapati, the younger sister of Savitri. She was devoted to austerity and renowned everywhere. No woman among the gods, Asuras, Yakshas, Rakshasas, Apsaras, or Gandharvas equaled her beauty. Her features were faultless, her large eyes dark, her clothing beautiful, and her conduct pure. When she reached marriageable age, her father could find no husband whose beauty, accomplishments, behavior, and learning seemed worthy of her. The question troubled him continually. At that time, Riksha’s son Samvarana, a powerful king of the Kuru line, was worshiping the Sun with arghya offerings, garlands, perfumes, vows, fasting, and many forms of austerity. His devotion was constant, humble, and sincere. Seeing his knowledge of duty and his unsurpassed beauty, the Sun judged him a fitting husband and resolved to give him Tapati. Samvarana’s good deeds filled the earth with renown as the Sun fills the heavens with light. Everyone except the Brahmins paid him worship. He surpassed the moon in soothing his friends and the sun in tormenting his enemies.”
“One day Samvarana went hunting in the woods along a mountainside. As he searched for deer, his fine horse died from hunger, thirst, and exhaustion. The king left it and continued on foot. In the course of his wandering, he saw a young woman with large eyes and incomparable beauty. He was alone, and so was she. He stopped and stared. At first he thought she must be the goddess Shri herself; then he imagined the rays of the Sun had taken bodily form. She possessed the radiance of flame and the gentleness of a spotless crescent moon. On the mountain she looked like a bright golden statue. Her beauty and clothing seemed to turn even the surrounding mountain, its plants, and its creepers to gold. Every woman he had previously seen seemed diminished beside her. He felt that his sight had found its reward. Nothing he had seen since birth had equaled her. His heart and eyes were held as though by a cord, and he stood unable to move, bereft of his senses. He imagined that the creator of such beauty must have churned the worlds of gods, Asuras, and human beings to produce it. To Samvarana, she had no equal in the three worlds.”
“Desire overcame him, and he questioned her. ‘Who are you, and whose daughter are you? Why are you alone in this secluded forest? Every feature is faultless. You wear ornaments, yet you seem to be the ornament that makes them beautiful. You appear to belong to none of the ordinary kinds of beings I know, whether gods, Asuras, Yakshas, Rakshasas, Nagas, Gandharvas, or humans. No woman I have seen or heard of can match you. Your face is lovelier than the moon, your eyes like lotus petals. The god of desire torments me at the sight of you.’ She gave him no answer. As suddenly as lightning vanishes within clouds, she disappeared before his eyes. Samvarana searched the whole forest like a man out of his senses. Unable to find her, he lamented and stood motionless in sorrow for a time. Then he collapsed. The maiden reappeared, smiling, and spoke gently. ‘Rise. May all be well with you. A king renowned throughout the world should not lose his reason this way.’”
“He opened his eyes and saw the same woman. In a voice weakened by emotion, he begged her to accept him. ‘I am burning with desire, and my life is slipping away. Kama pierces me with sharp arrows without a moment’s pause. It is as though a venomous serpent has bitten me. Have mercy. Your face is like a lotus petal or the moon, and your voice is as sweet as the Kinnaras’ singing. My life depends on you. I cannot live without you. Do not cast me off. Relieve this pain with your love. At first sight you captured my heart, and now my mind wanders. I have no wish to look at any other woman. I am your obedient servant, your worshiper. Pour the water of your love onto this fire. Become mine and pacify the power of desire that has entered me with its bow and arrows. Marry me by the Gandharva form, which is said to be the best of marriages.’ Samvarana was asking for an immediate union by the Gandharva form of marriage. Tapati answered that his love was returned, then directed him to the person whose consent she required before joining him. ‘I am under my father’s authority. If you truly love me, ask him for me. You say I took your heart, but at first sight you took mine as well. I do not have independent command of my body, and so I do not come to you. Women are never independent. You treat your dependents kindly and come from a pure lineage. What woman in the three worlds would not want you as her husband? When the opportunity comes, approach my father, the Sun called Aditya, through worship, austerity, and vows, and ask for my hand. If he gives me to you, I will always be your obedient wife. My name is Tapati. I am Savitri’s younger sister and the daughter of the Sun who lights the universe.’”
The gist: The Gandharva explained the name Tapatya through the story of Tapati, the Sun’s daughter. Samvarana met her while hunting and became overwhelmed by love. She returned his affection but required him to obtain her father’s consent to their marriage.
Vasishtha brings Tapati, and restores the king
The Gandharva continued. “After identifying herself, Tapati rose into the sky. Samvarana collapsed again. His ministers and attendants searched the forest until they found him lying alone, like a rainbow fallen from the heavens. The sight distressed his chief minister, an old man rich in experience, judgment, and accomplishments. He hurried forward with affection and respect, raised the king, and spoke reassuringly. He believed hunger, thirst, and exhaustion had overcome him. He sprinkled cool water scented with lotus petals over the king’s uncovered head. Samvarana slowly recovered consciousness and dismissed everyone except that minister. He purified himself, sat on the mountainside with his hands joined and face raised, and began worshiping the Sun. He also thought of his chief priest, Vasishtha. Day and night he remained there without interruption. On the twelfth day, Vasishtha arrived. Through the power of his austerities, the sage immediately understood that Tapati was the cause of the king’s condition. Wishing to help, he gave Samvarana assurance. Then, before the king’s eyes, he ascended to meet the Sun.”
“Vasishtha approached the thousand-rayed god with joined hands, shining with a radiance like the Sun’s own, and cheerfully introduced himself. Vivaswat welcomed him and invited his request. ‘Whatever you ask, however difficult it may be, I will grant.’ The sage bowed. ‘I ask for your daughter Tapati, Savitri’s younger sister, on behalf of Samvarana. He is a king of great achievements, virtue, and noble spirit, a worthy husband for her.’ The Sun had already resolved to make that marriage. He honored Vasishtha and answered, ‘Samvarana is foremost among kings, you among sages, and Tapati among women. What should we do except give her to him?’ He entrusted his daughter to Vasishtha, who took leave and returned to the mountain. Samvarana’s thoughts had remained fixed on Tapati. Seeing her brought to him by the sage filled him with joy. She descended from the sky like lightning from a cloud, illuminating all ten directions. His vow of 12 nights had ended. Through his worship of the Sun and the help of Vasishtha’s ascetic power, he obtained her as his wife. On that mountain, visited by gods and Gandharvas, he took her hand in marriage with the proper rites.”
“With Vasishtha’s permission, Samvarana chose to remain on the mountain with his bride. He proclaimed the sage his regent, the person who would govern during his absence. The appointment covered the capital and kingdom, the woods and gardens, while Samvarana stayed on the mountain with Tapati. Vasishtha took his leave. The king spent 12 full years enjoying the mountain forests with Tapati, living like a celestial being. For those same 12 years, Indra sent no rain upon his capital or country. People, trees, and animals began to die. Even dew ceased to fall, and no grain grew. Despairing inhabitants abandoned their homes and fled in every direction. Hunger drove people in both town and countryside to leave their wives and children and cease caring for one another. Reduced to skeletons, with nothing to eat, the people made the capital resemble the city of the dead, inhabited only by ghosts. Vasishtha saw its condition and resolved to remedy it. He brought Samvarana and Tapati back from their long seclusion. Once the king returned, Indra poured down abundant rain and crops grew again. The city and country revived and rejoiced. For another 12 years, Samvarana and Tapati performed sacrifices together, like Indra and his wife Shachi. This is the story of the Sun’s daughter. Samvarana and Tapati had a son named Kuru, foremost among ascetics. You belong to Kuru’s line, Arjuna. That is why you are called Tapatya.”
Hearing the account filled Arjuna with devotion, and he stood radiant as the full moon. The sage’s power had stirred his curiosity. “Tell me fully about this Vasishtha you have mentioned,” he asked. “Who was the great man who served as priest to our ancestors?” The Gandharva answered. “Vasishtha is Brahma’s mind-born son and Arundhati’s husband. Desire and Anger, powers difficult even for the gods to overcome, were conquered by his austerity and tended his feet. Vishvamitra’s offenses aroused his anger, yet he did not destroy the Kaushikas, the people whose king Vishvamitra had been. Although the death of his sons caused him grief, he refrained from using his power to annihilate Vishvamitra. Nor did he violate Yama’s laws to recover his children from the kingdom of death, keeping his limits as the ocean keeps within its shores. With that self-controlled sage as their priest, Ikshvaku and other great kings obtained the earth and performed grand sacrifices. He assisted their rites as Brihaspati assists the gods. Find an accomplished Brahmin who knows the Vedas and whose heart is ruled by virtue, and make him your priest. A Kshatriya of good lineage who wishes to conquer land and extend his kingdom should appoint a priest first. Let a Brahmin go before him. Arjuna, choose someone learned, capable, and master of his senses, with knowledge of dharma, artha, and kama: the duties of right conduct, the pursuit and protection of wealth, and the place of pleasure in life.”
The gist: Vasishtha obtained the Sun’s consent to Tapati’s marriage and later brought Samvarana home after a 12-year absence marked by drought. The Gandharva traced Arjuna’s descent through Tapati and Kuru, then described Vasishtha’s self-command and urged the appointment of a worthy priest.
Nandini and Vishvamitra
Arjuna asked how hostility had arisen between Vishvamitra and Vasishtha, sages associated with a celestial hermitage. The Gandharva answered with an old account known throughout the three worlds. “In Kanyakubja ruled the virtuous Gadhi, the son of Kushika. His son Vishvamitra possessed a large army and many animals and vehicles. With his ministers, he hunted deer and wild boars through deep forests and picturesque marshes. On one such expedition, exertion and thirst weakened him, and he reached Vasishtha’s hermitage in need of rest. The sage honored his arrival with water for washing his face and feet, an arghya offering, wild fruit, and clarified butter. Vasishtha owned a cow that supplied whatever was asked of her. At the request to give, she produced the desired thing: fruit and grain from forests, gardens, and fields; milk; nourishing dishes carrying all six tastes; nectar-like things to eat, drink, lick, and suck; precious gems; and many kinds of clothing. The king, his ministers, and his troops were satisfied by that abundant hospitality. Vishvamitra marveled at the cow. Six of her limbs were elevated and five broad; her flanks and hips were beautiful, her eyes prominent like a frog’s and well shaped. She had high udders, straight raised ears, fine horns, and a well-developed head and neck.”
“He praised Nandini and offered Vasishtha a price. ‘Give me this cow for 10,000 cows, or take my kingdom in exchange. Let me have her, and rule my lands.’ Vasishtha refused. ‘I keep her for the gods, guests, ancestors, and sacrifices. I cannot exchange her even for your kingdom.’ Vasishtha had named the religious duties and hospitality for which he kept Nandini. Vishvamitra answered by asserting the physical power of his own warrior order and threatening to take the cow against the sage’s will. ‘I am a Kshatriya, and you are a Brahmin devoted to study and austerity. What strength do peaceful, self-controlled Brahmins possess? If you refuse even 10,000 cows, I will follow the practice of my order and take her by force.’ Vasishtha told him to proceed with whatever he intended, without pausing to consider its propriety. Vishvamitra seized the cow, white as a swan or the moon, and tried to drive her away with blows and other harsh treatment. She cried out piteously and approached Vasishtha with her face raised. Despite the punishment, she would not leave the hermitage.”
“Vasishtha told her that he heard her cries. ‘But Vishvamitra is taking you by force. What can I do, being a Brahmin committed to forgiveness?’ Frightened by the king and his troops, Nandini pressed closer. ‘Why are you indifferent while these cruel soldiers beat me and I cry as though I have no protector?’ The sage kept his patience. ‘A Kshatriya’s strength lies in physical force, a Brahmin’s in forgiveness. I cannot give up forgiveness. Go if you choose.’ Nandini asked whether he was abandoning her. ‘If you do not cast me off, no one can take me by force.’ Vasishtha assured her that he had not rejected her. ‘Stay if you can. Look at your calf, bound with a strong rope and weakened by it.’ Hearing his permission to stay, Nandini raised her head and neck and became terrible to look upon. Her eyes reddened with anger. Lowing repeatedly, she attacked the troops on every side. Their blows and her movement among them increased her fury until she blazed like the midday sun. Burning coals showered from her tail.”
“Then armies began emerging from her body. Palhavas came from her tail; Dravidas and Shakas from her udders; Yavanas from her womb; Shavaras from her dung; Kanchis from her urine; and more Shavaras from her sides. The foam of her mouth produced Paundras, Kiratas, Yavanas, Sinhalas, Khasas, Chivukas, Pulindas, Chinas, Hunas, Keralas, and many other Mlechchha peoples. Wearing different uniforms and carrying varied weapons, the immense force formed ranks before Vishvamitra’s eyes and attacked his men. They were so numerous that each of his soldiers faced six or seven opponents. Under the shower of weapons, the royal army broke and fled in every direction. Yet the warriors on Vasishtha’s side killed none of them. Nandini had caused the royal army to be routed and driven away. The fleeing soldiers were driven a full 27 miles from the hermitage. Panic-stricken and crying out, they found no one who could protect them. The demonstration of spiritual power disgusted Vishvamitra with the warrior strength on which he had relied. ‘Shame on Kshatriya power,’ he said. ‘The power of a Brahmin is true power. When strength and weakness are weighed, austerity is the real strength.’ He abandoned his extensive kingdom, royal splendor, and pleasures, and devoted himself to ascetic practice. Succeeding in it, he filled the three worlds with the heat of his penances, afflicting living beings, and eventually became a Brahmin. The descendant of Kushika finally drank Soma in heaven with Indra himself.”
The gist: Vishvamitra tried to seize Nandini after Vasishtha refused to exchange her. The cow produced armies that drove the attackers away without killing them. Convinced by the superiority of spiritual power, Vishvamitra abandoned his kingdom and pursued the austerities through which he became a Brahmin.
Source: the Mahabharata of Krishna-Dwaipayana Vyasa, Adi Parva. This chapter follows K. M. Ganguli, sections CXL-CLXXXIV (140-184); the Gita Press Hindi edition numbers these chapters differently. Names, order, and events were checked against Ganguli’s complete translation. Dialogue and commentary are adapted, not a verbatim translation. About the sources.
Based on: The Mahabharata, Vyasa (Gita Press, Gorakhpur)