King Bali’s Awakening

Rama asked, “Gurudev, if a king loses everything, can he still stay free?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, listen to the story of King Bali. He conquered all three worlds, then lost them all, and even in defeat he stayed exactly as he had been in victory. Listen to how this came to pass.”

The Three Worlds

Bali was king of the daityas. His father was Virochana and his grandfather was Prahlada. We have already heard the story of Prahlada. Virochana was the son of that same Prahlada, and Bali was the son of Virochana.

Bali was a great warrior.

For many years he made war, and he won every war. He seized heaven from Indra, spread his kingdom across the earth, and fastened his grip all the way down to the netherworld.

All three worlds were now his.

Bali had everything: a kingdom, wealth, an army, subjects, a wife, children.

Diamonds were set into the walls of his royal chamber, and every day the pageantry of the court unfolded before his throne.

But one day a weariness rose inside Bali.

Weariness

It happened one evening. Bali was sitting on a balcony of his palace, looking toward the sky. The sun was setting, and a soft red had spread across the heavens.

Below him, life moved through the city: markets, shops, people coming and going. Bali watched all of it, and still an emptiness stayed inside him.

He thought: I have gained everything, so why am I weary? I hold all three worlds and every desire of mine is fulfilled, yet an emptiness stays within. What is this?

Just then he remembered something his father had said. Many years earlier, when Bali was small, he had asked his father, “Father, if I want to be happy always, what should I do?”

Virochana said, “Son, govern the mind.”

“How?”

“Son, this is the work of a whole lifetime, but let me tell you one thing. The mind is like a minister. If you govern the minister, the entire kingdom falls into order, and if the minister runs unchecked, the king runs unchecked too. Think of the mind as your minister.”

Bali recalled these words and thought: My kingdom is vast, my army is vast, my treasury is vast, but my inner kingdom, my mind? The mind still asks for one thing, then a second, then a third. When it gets the first, it moves toward the second, and when it gets the second, toward the third. The mind never stops. I have never governed my mind.

Shukracharya

Bali summoned his guru Shukracharya. He was the guru of the daityas, very old and very wise.

Bali asked, “Gurudev, my father told me to govern the mind. But what is the mind?”

Shukracharya said, “Bali, the mind is a form of your consciousness. When consciousness flows out into its many desires, that is what we call the mind. To govern the mind means to govern its desires.”

“How do I govern it?”

“Bali, all of it is one consciousness. What you are is what everything is; every form is the outer face of a single consciousness. When this settles inside you, the mind will govern itself.”

Bali heard this, but he did not fully understand.

“Gurudev, what should I do for this?”

Shukracharya said, “Bali, take up tapas, the practice of austerity.”

“But I am a king. I have a kingdom to run.”

“Bali, a king who runs a kingdom can sit in tapas for a while. Set your son on the throne and go to your tapas.”

Bali accepted this counsel.

Tapas

Bali gave up the kingdom.

He set his son Bana on the throne.

Bali said, “Bana, the kingdom is yours now.”

“But Father, I am not ready.”

“Son, you will have to become ready. I am going to my tapas.”

“For how many years?”

Bali said, “I do not know. Perhaps many years, perhaps few.”

Bali left. He went and sat on the bank of a river and closed his eyes.

In the first year his mind kept running: memories of the kingdom, memories of his wife, worry for his son, old victories. But Shukracharya had taught him a way.

Bali simply watched the mind; he did not stop it.

In the second year the mind grew somewhat calm, in the third more so, and in the fourth a great deal.

In this way many years passed, a full thousand.

Bali went on sitting. His hair grew long, yet through tapas he could stay young as well, because the body of an ascetic stands outside the law of age.

Vishnu

In heaven, Indra heard of this and began to think: Bali once seized heaven, and now he is doing tapas. If he rises, he will take it all again. I must do something.

Indra went to Vishnu and said, “Lord, Bali is doing tapas. If he rises, he will take it all again.”

Vishnu said, “I will do something.”

Vishnu took the form of a small brahmin, a dwarf. His body was small, like a child’s. In his hand was a little water-pot, his feet were bare, and he carried a thin staff. Vishnu called him Vamana.

Vamana went to Bali. Bali opened his eyes and said, “Little brahmin, speak.”

“Maharaj, I have come to ask for a little alms.”

Bali said, “What do you need?”

“Maharaj, I need only three paces of land.”

Bali said, “Only that much?”

“Yes, Maharaj.”

Bali reached out his hand to make the gift and said, “It is given.”

Shukracharya was standing nearby. At once he said, “Bali, stop.”

“What is it, Gurudev?”

“Bali, this dwarf is no ordinary being; he is Vishnu. In those three paces he has asked for, he is asking for all three worlds.”

Bali was silent for a few moments, then said, “Gurudev, I have already given the gift.”

“But Bali…”

“Gurudev, even if he is Vishnu, still. I have made the gift, and now I cannot take it back.”

Shukracharya said, “Bali, do you know what will happen?”

“Yes, and even so I will do this.”

Shukracharya said, “Bali, you are my disciple, but today you have gone beyond me.”

Bali bowed his head and accepted these words.

Three Paces

Vishnu changed his form. The dwarf was gone; he swelled so vast that his head rose higher than the clouds.

Vishnu set down one pace.

The first pace covered the whole earth.

Vishnu set down a second pace.

The second pace covered all of heaven.

Vishnu lifted his foot for the third pace and asked, “Bali, where shall I place the third pace?”

Bali was silent for a few moments, then, with a faint smile, said, “Lord, upon my head.”

Vishnu set the third pace upon Bali’s head, and Bali sank down, into the earth, into Patala, the netherworld.

Patala

Patala was dark, very dark. It carried no terror in it; it was calm. Bali was in a cave, with only darkness on every side. Above him the earth, above that the sky, and above that heaven. Bali now had nothing: no throne, no minister, no subjects.

For the first few days Bali watched that darkness. It was very deep: no lamp, no sun, no moon. But Bali’s eyes were ready for that darkness, because he had done tapas, and he had let go of any fear of the dark long ago.

Bali touched the ground, which was cold and stony. He breathed in the air, which held the smell of earth many years old. Then he heard a faint sound: somewhere far off, the dripping of water, perhaps a small spring somewhere inside Patala.

Bali said to himself, “This is a good place.”

Many years passed. To Bali’s eyes the darkness of Patala no longer seemed strange, because he had learned to see within the dark.

But Bali was calm.

Up on the earth Indra took back his kingdom, and in heaven the gods were glad. When Bana heard about his father he wept, though he too knew that his father had done this knowingly.

In Patala, Bali sat like this for many days, many years. But one thing happened.

A laughter began to wake inside Bali.

One night he laughed aloud, and his laughter rang through the cave of Patala. Vishnu heard it.

Vishnu

Vishnu came to Bali and said, “Bali, why are you laughing?”

Bali said, “Lord, Indra rejoices, thinking you have conquered me. What you truly did was set me free.”

“How?”

Bali was silent for a few moments, then said, “Lord, if I were in heaven, I would carry the cares of heaven. If I were on earth, I would carry the cares of earth. But now I am in Patala, and now I have no cares at all, and no bond holds me.

“And the real truth is this: I still have what is mine, my consciousness. In three paces you took the earth, the sky, and my identity, but you did not take my consciousness. You cannot take it at all. It was mine, it is mine, and it will stay mine.”

Vishnu said, “Bali, you have defeated me.”

Bali said, “Lord, not I. It was you who taught me this. I am only repeating an old lesson.”

Vishnu was silent for a few moments, then said, “Bali.”

“Speak.”

“I grant you a boon.”

“Lord, I do not need any boon.”

Vishnu said, “Bali, take this boon for the sake of those who come after you. When my next avatar comes, I will make you the keeper of the gate. You will stand at the door of my world.”

Bali said, “Thank you, Lord.”

The Return

Vishnu placed his hand on Bali’s head and said, “Bali, now return to your kingdom. That kingdom will no longer bind you, because you are jivan-mukta, freed while still living. Live within the kingdom, but do not become the kingdom’s own.”

Bali returned. He left Patala, came up to the earth, and then returned to his kingdom.

Bana saw his father and said, “Father, you have come back.”

“Yes, son.”

Bana was silent for a few moments, then said, “Father, the kingdom is yours.”

Bali said, “No, son. The kingdom is yours now. I will simply stay near you and support you, but you are the one who will sit on the throne.”

Bana bowed his head and said, “Father, I understand.”

For many years the two of them lived together. Bana ran the kingdom and Bali gave him support. But Bali was no longer the Bali he had once been. Now two things lived together in him: the king, and the witness.

The End

Many years passed. Bana grew old, yet Bali stayed young, because his body stayed young through tapas. One day Bana died, and Bali set his grandson on the throne.

Then one day that time came for Bali as well. He was sitting in that same old chamber of his, and he closed his eyes.

Vishnu appeared and said, “Bali, the time has come.”

“I know, Lord.”

“Where do you wish to go? Heaven or Patala?”

Bali said, “Lord, I do not wish to go anywhere now. I will stay wherever I am.”

“Bali, you are to become the keeper of the gate.”

Bali said, “Then it is well.”

Bali’s body fell away, and his consciousness arrived at the door of Vishnu’s world. There he took his stand, and for many years, perhaps forever, there he will remain.

Those who came, he watched; those who were to be let through, he let through. A faint smile always rested on his face, because he knew that winning and losing are both illusions, and whoever is free within is free in every condition.

Rama asked, “Gurudev, so real freedom does not come from outer things?”

Vasishtha said, “No, Rama. Even if everything outside is taken away, what is within stays in its place. And whoever is free within can live inside all of the outer world.”

Rama asked, “Gurudev, that laughter Bali had in Patala, was it real?”

Vasishtha said, “Yes, Rama. And that laughter still echoes somewhere. Those who have lost a great deal, if they listen closely, can hear that laughter.”

Rama asked, “Gurudev, there is one more thing in Bali’s story. He gave away everything he had without a second thought. How was that possible?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, because no grasping was left inside Bali. Many kings cling to their kingdom; their identity is there, their ego is there. But Bali, through tapas, had already let go of his identity. So when Vishnu asked, giving was easy for Bali.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, in my own kingdom my grip will surely stay. And when it is torn away?”

Vasishtha was silent for a few moments, then said, “Rama, this is a great matter. One day your kingdom will be torn from you, but by then you will already be ready.”

Rama asked, “Ready how?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, because by then you will have lost a great deal and learned a great deal. Your identity will slowly have grown light. So when the last thing is torn away, you too will be able to laugh, like Bali.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, today these words feel heavy to me.”

“Yes, they are heavy now. Later they will grow light.”

Rama asked, “Gurudev, there is one more question. Tell me something about Bali’s son Bana?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, Bana too became a king, but he was not like his father.”

“Why?”

“Because Bana had not done tapas. He had heard his father’s story, yet he had never lived it as his own experience. So his identity stayed rigid, and when danger came upon his kingdom, he broke.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, this forces me to think: hearing your father’s story does not bring wisdom; you need your own experience.”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, this is true. Many princes try to learn from their fathers’ stories, but that is never enough. Each has to make his own story himself.”

Rama went on looking at the water for a long time.

Rama asked, “Gurudev, Bali is now the keeper of the gate to Vishnu’s world. Does he ever grow weary?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, weariness comes only to those who carry a desire to do something. Bali has nothing now. He simply is; weariness does not come to him.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, this is very strange. I had thought that doing nothing is what makes one weary.”

“Rama, that is the common notion. But in truth, weariness is born of desire. Where there is no desire, there is no weariness either.”

Rama asked, “Gurudev, will there come a day in my life too when no desire to do anything is left in me?”

Vasishtha was silent for a few moments, then said, “Rama, perhaps. But that day will come after many years. For now you have much to do; you will live much and do much. But one day you too will sit without doing anything, and that day will be your greatest day.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, I will wait for that day.”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, waiting too is a desire. But it is fine; this is a good desire.”

A faint smile came to Rama’s face, and then the two of them stayed silent for a long while.

Rama asked, “Gurudev, the story of Bali’s time in Patala is a great one. Tell it to me once more, how did he come to laugh?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, Bali sat alone in the dark for many years. But one night a soft understanding came to him: I do not need any of this at all. And he laughed aloud, and his laughter rang through the cave of Patala. Vishnu heard it, and then he came.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, I will remember this: that even when I have nothing, I can still laugh.”

“Exactly.”

A faint smile drifted across Rama’s face.

Outside, a light breeze was blowing, and the night had grown deep.

Rama said, “Gurudev, thank you.”

“Rama, this story is your own.”

The two were silent for a while, then rose and set off toward home.