Mahabharata · Chapter 6 · Part 6 of 6 · Vasishtha’s grief, Parashara, and Kalmashapada’s curse

About 20 minutes

Kalmashapada and Vasishtha’s sons

The Gandharva continued with another king. “Kalmashapada belonged to Ikshvaku’s line and had no equal on earth in prowess. One day he left his capital to hunt, killing many deer, wild boars, and rhinoceroses. After a long pursuit he became tired and gave up the chase to seek rest. Vishvamitra had recently wished to make this king his disciple. Hungry and thirsty on a forest path, Kalmashapada encountered Vasishtha’s son Shakti coming from the opposite direction. Shakti was the eldest of Vasishtha’s 100 sons, a distinguished sage who carried on his father’s line. The king ordered him aside. Shakti answered calmly and courteously that the way belonged to him. ‘The enduring rule of duty requires a king to make way for a Brahmin.’ Each told the other to step aside. The sage maintained his ground because he was in the right; pride and anger kept the king from yielding. Acting like a Rakshasa, Kalmashapada struck him with a whip. Shakti’s anger overwhelmed his judgment. ‘Because you have treated an ascetic like a Rakshasa would,’ he declared, ‘you will become a Rakshasa yourself, feeding on human flesh. Wander the earth in human form.’”

“Vishvamitra and Vasishtha were rivals over the king’s discipleship. Knowing through spiritual insight what had happened, Vishvamitra approached. After the curse was pronounced, Kalmashapada recognized that the sage before him was Vasishtha’s son, his father’s equal in spiritual force. Vishvamitra made himself invisible and remained nearby, watching for his own advantage. The king began humbly trying to appease Shakti. Fearing that they might reconcile, Vishvamitra ordered a Rakshasa to enter the king’s body. Kinkara obeyed, acting under both Shakti’s curse and Vishvamitra’s command. Once he knew the possession had taken effect, Vishvamitra departed. The king soon lost his reason under the Rakshasa’s influence. A hungry Brahmin encountered him in the forest and asked for food with meat. Kalmashapada promised to supply it when he returned. ‘Wait here a moment.’ The Brahmin waited while the king wandered for a time and then went back to his inner apartments. Waking at midnight, Kalmashapada remembered the promise. He summoned his cook and ordered him to take food and meat to the man waiting in the woods.”

“The cook searched for meat and found none. He reported the failure. Still possessed, the king repeatedly told him, without hesitation, to serve human flesh. The cook went to the executioners’ place, obtained it, washed and cooked it, and covered it with boiled rice before offering it to the waiting Brahmin. The ascetic recognized through spiritual sight that the food was unholy and unfit to eat. His eyes reddened with anger. ‘Since this king has sent me forbidden food, he will develop a liking for it himself. As Shakti has already cursed him, he will crave human flesh and wander the earth terrifying and afflicting living creatures.’ The curse over the food reinforced the one Shakti had already pronounced. The king who had promised to feed a hungry Brahmin now found his own appetite turned toward human flesh, and his reason was completely overwhelmed. Soon afterward he met Shakti again. ‘You pronounced this extraordinary curse on me,’ he said. ‘I will begin eating human beings with you.’ He killed and devoured the sage as a tiger eats its favored prey. Seeing what had happened, Vishvamitra repeatedly directed the Rakshasa inside the king against Vasishtha’s other sons. Like an angry lion devouring smaller animals, he consumed all those younger than Shakti.”

“Vasishtha learned that Vishvamitra had caused the deaths of all his sons. He bore the grief with the endurance of a great mountain. He possessed the power to destroy Vishvamitra’s people, the Kaushikas. He refrained from that destruction even after learning who had brought about his sons’ deaths. In his grief he instead resolved to end his own life. He threw himself from the summit of Meru. The rocky ground received him as gently as a heap of cotton. When the fall failed to kill him, he lit a huge fire in the forest and entered it. The bright flames felt cool and did not consume him. Still driven by grief, he tied a stone weight around his neck and cast himself into the sea. The waves carried him ashore. Unable to bring about his death, Vasishtha returned in anguish to his hermitage.”

The gist: Shakti’s curse and Vishvamitra’s intervention brought Kalmashapada under a Rakshasa’s control. A second curse strengthened his appetite for human flesh, and he devoured Vasishtha’s 100 sons. Vasishtha refrained from destroying Vishvamitra’s people, while his attempts to end his own life failed.

The surviving line

The Gandharva continued. “The empty hermitage renewed Vasishtha’s grief, and he left again. During his wandering he saw a river swollen by the rainy season, carrying away countless trees and plants from its banks. He believed that its waters would drown him. Binding himself tightly with several cords, he threw himself into the current. The river broke the cords and cast him ashore. Rising free of his bonds, he named it Vipasha, the breaker of bonds. His sorrow made it impossible to remain in one place. He wandered among mountains, rivers, and lakes until he saw the terrible Haimavati, flowing from the Himalayas and filled with crocodiles and other fierce creatures. He cast himself into it. The river mistook him for an unquenchable mass of fire and scattered into 100 courses, earning the name Shatadru. Even there, he found himself on dry land. ‘I cannot die by my own hand,’ he said, and turned toward his hermitage once more.”

“After crossing many mountains and countries, he was about to reenter his home when his daughter-in-law Adrisyanti came behind him. He heard a clear, intelligent recitation of the Vedas, complete with the six qualities of proper delivery. ‘Who is following me?’ he asked. Adrisyanti identified herself as Shakti’s wife, devoted to austerity but without protection. Vasishtha asked whose voice he had heard. It sounded like Shakti reciting the Vedas with their supporting branches of knowledge. ‘I carry your son Shakti’s child,’ she answered. ‘He has been in my womb for 12 full years. The voice belongs to him.’ Joy returned to Vasishtha. ‘There is a child of my line!’ The voice he had recognized as resembling Shakti’s belonged to Shakti’s unborn son. His family would continue through that child. He abandoned his resolve to end his life and returned to the hermitage with Adrisyanti.”

“One day in the solitary woods, he encountered Kalmashapada. Still possessed by a fierce Rakshasa, the king rose in anger to devour him. Adrisyanti saw the approaching figure with a wooden club and cried out in fear. ‘He comes like Death carrying its terrible weapon. No one on earth except you can restrain him. Protect me. He is coming to eat us.’ Vasishtha reassured her. ‘Do not fear. The man you take for a Rakshasa is the renowned King Kalmashapada, who lives in this forest.’ Uttering the sound ‘Hum,’ the sage stopped the advance. He sprinkled the king with water consecrated by mantras and released him from the terrible curse. For 12 years, Shakti’s power had overwhelmed the king as Rahu overwhelms the Sun in an eclipse. Freed from the possessing being, Kalmashapada shone through the forest like sunlight illuminating evening clouds. His reason restored, he bowed with joined hands. ‘I am Sudasa’s son and your disciple. Tell me what you wish me to do.’ Vasishtha told him that his own purpose was fulfilled. ‘Return to your kingdom, govern your people, and never insult Brahmins again.’ The king promised to honor them and then asked for another favor. ‘Let me discharge my debt to Ikshvaku’s line. Grant me a son with beauty, accomplishments, and good conduct, so that the family may continue.’ Vasishtha agreed.”

“Some time afterward, the sage accompanied Kalmashapada to Ayodhya. The citizens came out joyfully to receive them, like the inhabitants of heaven welcoming their ruler. After so long an absence, the king reentered his capital with his priest beside him. To the people he appeared like the rising sun, his beauty and radiance filling the city as an autumn moon fills the sky. The streets had been swept and watered; rows of flags and banners adorned them. Happy, healthy people crowded the city, giving it the splendor of Amaravati when Indra is present. At the king’s command, the queen approached Vasishtha. The sage made an agreement with her and united with her according to the prescribed ordinance, undertaking to provide the son the king had requested for the continuation of Ikshvaku’s line. When she conceived, he accepted the king’s respectful farewell and returned to his hermitage. The queen carried the child for a long time. Finding that birth did not come, she opened her womb with a piece of stone. In the twelfth year of the pregnancy, Ashmaka was born, the royal sage who later founded Paudanya.”

The gist: Adrisyanti’s unborn child gave Vasishtha hope that his family would continue. He freed Kalmashapada from a 12-year curse and agreed to provide an heir for Ikshvaku’s line. Through his prescribed union with the queen, Ashmaka was born.

Parashara hears of his father

The Gandharva continued the history of Vasishtha’s family. “In time Adrisyanti gave birth at the hermitage. Her son would carry Shakti’s line forward, and in his qualities he seemed another Shakti. Vasishtha himself performed the ceremonies that followed his grandson’s birth. The child’s existence had already changed his grandfather’s life: when Vasishtha learned that Shakti had left a son in the womb, he abandoned his attempts to die. For that reason the boy was named Parashara, explained here as one who brings the dead back to life. From his earliest days, Parashara regarded Vasishtha as his father and treated him accordingly. One day he called him Father in Adrisyanti’s presence. The word was clear and sweet, but his mother’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Child, the man you call Father is your grandfather,’ she told him. ‘A Rakshasa devoured your father in another forest. This revered sage is the father of your own renowned father.’ Grief overwhelmed the truthful young sage. Then it turned to anger, and he resolved to destroy the whole creation. Vasishtha, the son of Mitra and Varuna, understood Brahman and the nature of reality. He spoke to the grandson who had formed this purpose. Listen, Arjuna, to the account through which he led Parashara away from it.”

Vasishtha told him of King Kritavirya, a celebrated ruler who had studied under the Bhrigus, the learned descendants of Bhrigu. “After performing a Soma sacrifice, he gave those Brahmins generous gifts of rice and wealth. The king later died and reached heaven. Some time afterward, his descendants found themselves in need of money. They knew that the Bhrigus possessed considerable wealth, so they approached them as beggars. The Bhrigus responded in different ways. Some buried their possessions to protect them. Some feared the Kshatriyas and gave their wealth away to other Brahmins. Others gave the princes what they asked for. While digging at the home of one Bhargava, a member of Bhrigu’s family, some Kshatriyas uncovered a large treasure. All the princes present saw it. They took the discovery as proof that the Bhrigus had deceived them. Their anger turned first to insults, then to killing. The Brahmins asked for mercy, but the bowmen cut them down with sharp arrows. The slaughter spread as the Kshatriyas traveled across the earth. They even destroyed children still in the womb. Women of the family fled in terror to the inaccessible Himalayan mountains. One of them, determined that her husband’s line should survive, concealed a powerful unborn child in her thigh. Another Brahmin woman learned of it and, out of fear, told the Kshatriyas. They went there to destroy that child too. When they reached the mother, they saw her shining with her own energy. The child burst out through her thigh, and his brilliance struck their eyes like the midday sun. They went blind.”

“The princes wandered through the difficult mountain country, distressed and unable to see. At last they sought refuge with the very woman whose unborn child they had come to kill. ‘Lady, through your kindness let us see again,’ they pleaded. ‘Then we will all return home and abandon this sinful practice forever. Have mercy on us, you and your child. Restore our sight.’ She answered them without claiming the power that had blinded them. ‘Children, I have not taken your sight, and I am not angry with you. This child of Bhrigu’s line is angry. The memory of his family’s slaughter has stirred his rage. While you were destroying even the unborn children of our race, I held him in my thigh for 100 years. So that the family might flourish again, the entire Vedas, with their branches of knowledge, came to him while he was still in the womb. He is enraged by the killing of his forefathers and wants to kill you. His divine energy has scorched your eyes. Appeal to this son of mine, born from my thigh. If your homage pleases him, he may restore your sight.’ The princes turned to the child and asked for his favor. He granted it, and they recovered their sight and went away. Because he had torn his way out of his mother’s thigh, he became known throughout the three worlds as Aurva, the thigh-born.”

“Aurva had spared those princes, but he still intended to overcome the whole world. He decided that every creature should perish. He regarded this destruction as an offering of honor to his slaughtered ancestors, and to accomplish it he undertook the severest austerities. The force of his penance afflicted the three worlds, including the gods, the Asuras, and humanity. When the Pitris, his departed ancestors, learned what their descendant was doing, they came from their own realm to speak to him. ‘Aurva, son, your austerity has been fierce, and we have witnessed your power. Be kind to the three worlds. Restrain this anger. You believe that our destruction calls for vengeance, but hear why the self-controlled Bhrigus allowed the Kshatriyas to kill them. We had grown weary of the long lives allotted to us and wanted our lives to end through the Kshatriyas’ actions. The treasure placed underground in our house was intended to provoke their anger and bring about a quarrel. We desired heaven. Earthly wealth had no use for us, and Kubera, heaven’s keeper of treasure, had already set aside great riches for us. When death could reach us by no other means, we judged this the best way to obtain it. We refrained from taking our own lives because those who do so do not attain blessed realms. What you now propose would therefore give us no pleasure. Turn your mind away from the sin of destroying the whole world. Spare the Kshatriyas and the seven worlds. End the anger that is staining the power of your austerities.’”

A key to reading this: The ancestors give their own explanation for the Bhrigus’ deaths. Their account follows the description of frightened mothers, unborn children killed, and appeals for mercy ignored. Both voices belong to the story Vasishtha tells.

The gist: After learning that a Rakshasa had killed his father, Parashara resolved to destroy creation. Vasishtha answered with Aurva’s history: a survivor of the Bhrigu massacre, Aurva undertook austerities to avenge his ancestors until those ancestors came to restrain him.

Two fires of vengeance

The Gandharva carried on with Vasishtha’s account of Aurva. “The ancestors had asked him to abandon his vengeance, but Aurva answered them at length. ‘Revered ancestors, the vow I made in anger to destroy all the worlds must have its fulfillment. I cannot accept that my anger and my promise should come to nothing. If I leave the vow unfulfilled, this rage will burn me as fire consumes dry wood. A man who suppresses anger raised by sufficient cause loses the capacity to pursue the three aims of life: dharma, right conduct; artha, prosperity; and kama, pleasure. The anger of kings who seek dominion over the earth has a purpose. It restrains wrongdoers and protects those who act honestly. While I lay unborn in my mother’s thigh, I heard her cries and those of the other women of Bhrigu’s family. The Kshatriyas were destroying our people, even the children still in the womb. That was when anger filled me. My mother and the other women were heavily pregnant. They and my frightened father could find no protector anywhere in the worlds. Because there was no one to protect the women, my mother concealed me in her thigh. When crime has a punisher, people fear to commit it. When it goes unpunished, the number of wrongdoers grows. Anyone who knows that a wrong has been done and has the power to prevent or punish it shares in that wrong if he takes no action. Kings and others could have protected my forefathers. They put that duty aside and preferred their own pleasures. I have just cause to be angry with them. I have power over creation and can punish its wrongdoing. I cannot obey your command. If I have the means to punish this crime and refrain, people will suffer the same persecution again. Besides, the fire of my anger is ready to consume the worlds. Held back, its power will consume me. You always seek the good of the worlds. Tell me, then, how both the worlds and I may be preserved.’”

“The ancestors offered a way to fulfill the vow without destroying the living worlds. ‘Cast the fire of your anger into water. Water is the foundation on which all the worlds depend. Every substance that holds moisture contains water; the entire universe is made of it. Let this fire remain in the great ocean, consuming its waters. Since the worlds are made of water, your word will come true through that act, and the worlds with their gods will survive.’ Aurva accepted their direction and cast his anger’s fire into the ocean, Varuna’s dwelling. The fire took the shape of a great horse’s head. Those who know the Vedas call it Vadavamukha, the mare’s mouth. Flame issues from that mouth and continually consumes the ocean’s water. Having brought the account to this point, Vasishtha returned to the grandson listening to him. ‘May you be blessed, Parashara. You understand the higher realms and are foremost among the wise. You must spare the worlds.’”

“Parashara restrained the anger that had threatened creation,” the Gandharva continued. “But Shakti’s son then undertook a great sacrifice directed against the Rakshasas. Remembering his father’s killing, he drew Rakshasas of every age into its destruction. Young and old alike burned. Vasishtha had already persuaded his grandson to give up the destruction of the worlds. He initially allowed the sacrifice against Rakshasas to proceed because he had decided against obstructing this second vow. Parashara sat before three blazing sacrificial fires, his own radiance making him seem a fourth. The sacrifice received great offerings of clarified butter, and the sage shone like the sun emerging from clouds. His light filled the sky. To Vasishtha and the other sages watching, he appeared a second sun. Then Atri came, intending to end a sacrifice that would have been difficult for others to stop. Pulastya, Pulaha, and Kratu, who had performed many great sacrifices, also arrived. All wanted to save the Rakshasas. By then many had already died. Pulastya addressed Parashara. ‘Child, I trust that your sacrifice faces no obstruction. But do you take pleasure in killing these innocent Rakshasas, who know nothing of your father’s death? You must cease destroying creatures in this way. This is no task for a Brahmin devoted to austerity. Peace is the highest virtue; establish peace. With all your distinction, how have you entered into such a sinful practice? Honor the understanding of right conduct that Shakti himself possessed. You must abandon the attempt to wipe out a whole kind of living being.’”

“Pulastya continued his appeal by returning to the events that had started the vengeance. ‘Your father’s own curse brought about what happened to him. Through his own fault Shakti was taken to heaven. No Rakshasa had the power to devour him; he himself provided the means of his death. Vishvamitra, too, served as a blind instrument in that matter. Shakti and Kalmashapada have both reached heaven and enjoy great happiness there. Vasishtha’s other sons, Shakti’s younger brothers, also live in joy among the gods. And you, child of Vasishtha’s son, have become an instrument in the destruction of these innocent Rakshasas. May you be blessed. Give up this sacrifice and let it end.’ Pulastya’s words and Vasishtha’s own counsel prevailed. Parashara ended the sacrifice. He took the fire kindled for the destruction of the Rakshasas and cast it into the deep forests north of the Himalayas. That fire, the Gandharva said, could still be seen in every season, consuming Rakshasas, trees, and stones.”

The gist: Aurva placed his anger in the ocean, where it became a fire that consumes water. His story persuaded Parashara to spare creation. Parashara then began a sacrifice against Rakshasas, but Pulastya and Vasishtha persuaded him to end that slaughter as well.

The curse Madayanti remembered

Arjuna returned to a question left by the account of Ashmaka’s birth. “My friend, why did King Kalmashapada command his queen to go to Vasishtha? And why did that great sage, who understood every rule of right conduct, have relations with a woman he should not have approached? Was it a sin on Vasishtha’s part? Please resolve this doubt.” The Gandharva answered by going back to the years when the king had lived under Shakti’s curse. “Listen, Dhananjaya, and I will explain what happened to Kalmashapada and why Vasishtha acted as he did. I have already described the curse pronounced by Vasishtha’s illustrious son. While it held him, the king left his capital with his wife, his eyes rolling in anger. They wandered together through the lonely forest. One day, among large trees, thickets, and climbing plants, with deer and other animals moving through a forest full of terrifying cries, he became desperately hungry. He went in search of food. In a secluded place he found a Brahmin and his wife having intercourse. Frightened by his approach, they fled before their desire was satisfied. The king pursued them and forcibly seized the husband.”

“The wife appealed to the qualities for which the king had been known. ‘Your Majesty, hear me. The whole world knows your birth in the solar dynasty, your vigilance in matters of right conduct, and your devotion to your elders and teachers. Even with your reason overpowered by a curse, you must refrain from this sin. My fertile season has come. I desired my husband’s company, and we were joined together. My desire has yet to be satisfied. Have mercy on us. Release my husband.’ Kalmashapada disregarded her cries. He devoured the man before her, as a tiger devours the prey it wants. At the sight, her grief became anger. The tears she shed blazed like fire and consumed everything in that place. Then she cursed the king. ‘Wretch, you have cruelly eaten my beloved and honored husband before my eyes, while my desire remains unfulfilled. Under my curse, when you have intercourse with your own wife in her fertile season, you will die at once. And your wife will bear a son through union with Vasishtha, the very sage whose children you have devoured. That child will continue your royal line.’”

“After pronouncing the curse, the woman, who came from Angiras’s family and bore every auspicious mark, entered the blazing fire in the king’s sight. Vasishtha immediately learned all that had happened through his ascetic power and spiritual insight. Much later, Kalmashapada was released from Shakti’s curse. When Madayanti’s fertile season came, he approached his queen for intercourse. She gently turned him away. Desire had made him forget the Brahmin woman’s warning, and Madayanti had to remind him. On hearing her words, he became deeply frightened. He remembered the curse and bitterly regretted what he had done. That is why he appointed Vasishtha to father a son with the queen.” The Gandharva’s answer distinguished the curse that had deprived the king of his reason from the later curse that still prevented him from fathering an heir. Release from Shakti’s curse had allowed him to return to his kingdom; the Brahmin woman’s words continued to govern what could happen when he approached Madayanti. Her reminder explains the royal appointment about which Arjuna had asked.

The gist: The wife of a Brahmin whom Kalmashapada devoured cursed him to die if he had intercourse with his queen in her fertile season. She also foretold that Vasishtha would father the queen’s son. When Madayanti reminded the restored king of this curse, he appointed Vasishtha to provide an heir.

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.