Prahlada’s Inward Turn

A light wind moved over the Sarayu, and into that wind Rama put a question. “Gurudev, if a man attains knowledge, should he give up the work of ruling?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, Prahlada once asked Vishnu this very thing. He was a king of the daityas who had attained knowledge, and for that reason he had given up the work of ruling. Yet Vishnu sent him back. Listen to this story.”

The Demon King

Prahlada was king of the daityas (a race of demons). His father was Hiranyakashipu, whom Narasimha had killed. The father was a cruel man, and he had even tried to kill his own son, because the son was a devotee of Vishnu. Yet every time, Vishnu saved the boy.

At last the father died, and Prahlada took charge of the kingdom.

Prahlada was a devotee of Vishnu, though a strange sort of devotee. His bhakti (devotion) held no weeping, no wailing. His bhakti held only a quiet surrender.

Every morning he worshipped Vishnu, then turned to the work of the kingdom, dispensed justice, and gave the daityas their laws. Born a daitya, he had the nature of a god.

Long before, Prahlada had tried many times to reason with his father. The father was an enemy of Vishnu, and the son had told him, “Father, to fight Vishnu is folly.” But the father would not hear a word of it.

At last the father died, and the son became king.

In this way many years passed, and Prahlada went on running the kingdom. Yet deep within, he carried a question.

The Question

This life of mine, this kingdom, all of it, what is it? What, in the end, am I here for?

The question had lived in him for many years, and for years he had pressed it down.

One night he asked himself: who am I?

The moment the question rose, Prahlada began to search inside himself for the answer.

Am I Prahlada? But Prahlada is only a name, and a name I cannot be.

Am I a daitya? But daitya is only a race, and a race I cannot be.

Am I the son of Hiranyakashipu? But a son is only a relationship, and a relationship I cannot be.

Am I a devotee of Vishnu? But a devotee is only a role, and a role I cannot be.

Am I a king? But a king is only a position, and a position I cannot be.

In this way Prahlada began to dig into himself, and one thing after another fell away.

Am I the body? But the body changes, from a child’s body to an old man’s body. So whatever changes, that I cannot be.

Am I the mind? But the mind changes too, happy one moment and sorrowful the next. So whatever changes, that I cannot be.

Am I emotion? But emotion also changes.

Am I thought? But thoughts keep coming and going.

At last he reached a place where nothing changed. A steady consciousness, the witness of every change. Resting there, he knew: I am this.

Withdrawal

With this knowing, a peace came into him, and along with it a sadness.

He thought: this work of ruling that I do, all of it is an illusion, a game. My true nature is that steady consciousness, and it is there that I should abide.

Thinking this, Prahlada gave up the work of the kingdom. He summoned his ministers and said, “I am now withdrawing from the kingdom.”

The ministers were stunned. “Maharaj?”

“I have no son, so from now the kingdom is yours to look after. I will remain in my chamber, and no one is to disturb me.”

Prahlada went and sat in a chamber of his palace, closed his eyes, and sank into meditation.

The Unraveling

Meanwhile the daitya kingdom began to come apart. There was no king, no justice, no decision.

At first the ministers tried to run the kingdom, but they could never agree among themselves.

One minister would say, “Do it this way.” Another would say, “No, that way.” A third would say, “Both are wrong.” There was no shortage of argument, but no decision ever came.

The daityas began to fight among themselves, first over small disputes, then over larger quarrels.

The borders of the kingdom began to shake. The neighboring kingdoms saw their chance and sent in their armies, and the daitya kingdom suffered defeat.

The people grew troubled, trade came to a halt, and with no one managing the irrigation the fields dried up.

Children went hungry, because their fathers were not going to work.

So several years passed, and Prahlada went on sitting there. The ministers tried many times to wake him, but Prahlada did not rise.

Anarchy

The kingdom fell apart still further.

First came the small problems. No one was paying taxes, no one was asking for justice, no one was bringing their troubles forward, because there was no point in bringing them. There was no king.

Then came the larger problems. The daityas began to fight among themselves, first with words and then with weapons, and many daityas were killed.

The borders shook again. The neighboring kingdoms saw their chance and sent in their armies, and the daitya kingdom was defeated once more and lost much of its land.

The people were troubled, trade was stalled, the fields were going unwatered and the crops were dying. Many children were going hungry.

One day a mother came to the doors of the royal chamber carrying her dead child and cried out, “Maharaj!” No answer came. She said again, “Maharaj, my child has starved to death!” But this time too, no answer came.

The mother sat down right there outside, her dead child in her lap, and stayed a long while.

Just then a minister came out, and seeing the mother in this state, he said to her, “Mother, the Maharaj is not here right now.”

“When will he return?” she asked.

“I do not know,” the minister said.

The mother said nothing. She simply lifted her child and walked away.

The minister watched all this, and his eyes filled.

He said to his colleague, “Brother, this cannot go on.”

“But what can we do?” the colleague said.

“I do not know,” the minister said.

All this while, word of everything was reaching Vishnu.

Vishnu

One day the matter reached Vishnu, and he looked down from the heavens.

He saw the shattered daitya kingdom, and he saw Prahlada too, sunk in meditation in his chamber. Vishnu said, “Prahlada is in half of the knowledge, not the whole of it. I will have to go myself.”

Vishnu appeared in Prahlada’s chamber. Prahlada had been sitting that way for many years, eyes closed, his breath so slow it had nearly stopped. Vishnu sat beside him and called, “Prahlada.”

Prahlada did not open his eyes. Vishnu spoke again, “Prahlada, rise.” This time Prahlada slowly opened his eyes and said, “Lord.”

“Prahlada, what are you doing?” Vishnu asked.

Prahlada said, “Lord, I am in my true state. I am that, and I want nothing more now.”

“Prahlada, that is well enough,” Vishnu said, “but your kingdom?”

“Lord, the kingdom is maya. All of this that lies outside is maya.”

Vishnu said, “Prahlada, what you have understood is half the knowledge. Now hear the whole of it.”

The Whole Knowledge

Now Prahlada opened his eyes fully and said, “Tell me, Lord.” Vishnu sat down before him.

“Prahlada, within yourself you have recognized the consciousness that stands behind everything, and this is a very great thing. But now you are making a new mistake.

“You think that the outside is maya and the inside is truth. But this very division is maya.

“Inside there is consciousness, outside there is consciousness, and the two are one and the same.

“What is outside is also you. Your kingdom is you, your people are you, your daityas are you. If you abandon the outside, then in truth you are abandoning your own self.”

Prahlada asked, “Lord, but if all of it is consciousness, then should I tend to the outside or the inside?”

“Both,” Vishnu said.

“How, both?”

Vishnu said, “Prahlada, here is true knowledge. You remain out in the world, and within you stay just as you are now. Both together.

“Stay in action, and do not let action drive you.

“This is jivan-mukti, liberation while living.”

Prahlada heard this and stayed silent a long while.

Then he asked, “Lord, so what should I do now?”

“Rise, take charge of your kingdom, and do justice for your people. But within, keep that steady consciousness as your own. Both together.”

“Lord, why did I not understand this before?”

Vishnu said, “Prahlada, this can be understood only after knowledge comes first. Had you taken charge of the kingdom without that recognition, you would have become the kingdom’s slave. Now, when you take charge of it, the kingdom will be your instrument and will lay no bondage on you.”

“Lord, the peace I have in meditation, will it stay with me outside as well?” Prahlada asked.

“Yes, only its form will change.”

“How will it change?”

Vishnu said, “Prahlada, the peace in meditation is a still peace. You sit, you do nothing, and you are calm. The peace outside is an active peace. You keep working, and still you stay calm within. The two are one and the same peace, only their form differs.”

Prahlada asked again, “Lord, one more question. What if I am swept away by the outside once more?”

Vishnu said, “Prahlada, that is possible. But you have now seen your true state. If you are swept along again, you will know that you are being swept along, and that very knowing is your handhold. That is why you will not drift for long.

“And if now and then you do drift, that too is all right. There is a lesson in that as well.”

Hearing this, Prahlada stayed silent a long while.

The Return

Then Prahlada rose. He straightened his body and opened his eyes. So many years of sitting had left his legs thin, but standing took him no time, because the body had stayed young through tapas (austerity).

He called his attendant. The attendant was astonished, because after many years he had heard the Maharaj’s voice.

“Maharaj,” the attendant said.

“Call the minister,” Prahlada said.

The minister came and said, “Maharaj?”

“Minister, I will take charge of the kingdom now. Tell me, what all has gone wrong.”

At first the minister could make no sense of it, then a smile came to his face. “Maharaj, a great deal has gone wrong. But now that you are here, all of it can be set right.”

“I am here,” Prahlada said.

The minister began to lay out the affairs of the kingdom, many matters and many problems. Prahlada listened to them one by one, and then, one after another, he handed down his decisions.

The minister noticed that the Maharaj was different now. Before, Prahlada would sometimes grow angry; now he did not. Before, he would sometimes decide in haste; now he did not. Before, he would sometimes speak from his ego; now he did not. Now he was entirely calm.

The Kingdom

Prahlada set the kingdom back on its feet. First he put the army in order, made treaties with the other kingdoms, and took back the land that had been seized. Then he arranged the irrigation and brought water to the fields. Then he set trade right and the markets opened, and then he turned his attention to education and opened schools for the children.

In this way many years passed, and the kingdom grew prosperous once more.

The people now saw a new Prahlada. Before, he had kept his distance from them, but now, one day every week, he met the people in an open court where anyone could come. People came, told him their troubles, and Prahlada listened and then gave them solutions. In his eyes there was none of the old distance now.

One time a boy came and said, “Maharaj.”

“Speak, child,” Prahlada said.

“My father has died, my mother is alone, and we have no food.”

Prahlada heard him and said, “Child, the treasury of the kingdom is open to you. Minister, send them grain every month. And the boy is growing, so put him in a school.”

The boy’s eyes filled and he said, “Maharaj, thank you.”

“Child, there is no need for thanks. This is your right.”

The boy left. The minister looked at Prahlada and said, “Maharaj, you have changed a great deal from before.”

Prahlada said, “Minister, I have not changed. I am simply whole now, where before I was half.

“And one more thing.”

“Tell me.”

“We hear very little of Prahlada’s life after Narasimha.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, because the story of Narasimha is full of drama. In it there is a father, a son, a battle, a miracle. That is what people remember.

“But Prahlada’s real story is the one that came after. When he became king of the daityas, when he met Vishnu, and when he became jivan-mukta, liberated while living.

“This story is heard less often, and it runs deeper.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, that is very true.”

“Rama, one more thing,” Vasishtha said, “there is a lesson to be drawn from Prahlada’s story.”

“Tell me.”

“When something very large happens in your life, whether it is good or bad, people will remember only that great event.

“But your real story is the one that unfolds after that event. What you became then.

“That is what you will be measured by.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, my father’s kingdom is very great, and perhaps my story too will be great. But my real story?”

“That will be the one that comes after,” Vasishtha said.

Rama was silent a while, then said, “Gurudev, I am beginning to understand this.”

One More Thing

For a while the two of them were silent.

Then Rama asked, “Gurudev, does a man who has attained jivan-mukti stay calm at all times?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, no.”

“Then?”

“Rama, the body of a jivan-mukta is still a human body. It too feels anger at times, sorrow at times, joy at times.

“But within him there is a steady consciousness that keeps watching all of these.

“That steady consciousness never wavers, while the stirrings on the surface keep rising and passing.”

Rama asked, “Prahlada too?”

“Yes, Prahlada too.”

“What came to him?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, the memory of his father would come to him, very often.”

“But his father was his enemy.”

“Yes, and still he was his father.

“Prahlada had tried many times to reason with his father, but the father would not listen.

“And then the father died, at the hands of Narasimha.

“This pain lived inside Prahlada every single day.”

Rama paused a while, then said, “Gurudev, I did not know this before.”

“Yes, this story is heard less often.”

“And what did Prahlada do then?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, now and then Prahlada would weep in private. But in his kingdom he stayed steady and showed the people nothing. Only one minister knew. He would sit with Prahlada without saying a word. Prahlada would weep, then grow calm, and the next day he would return to his work.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, that is deeply moving.”

“Yes.”

“And in my life?”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, such moments will come in your life too, your own pain, your own tears. But you too will find a minister, someone who will sit with you without saying a word. This is the greatest support a person can have.”

The Liberated One

For many years Prahlada lived like this. A king, and yet no king. A meditator, and yet no meditator. Both at once.

One day he was sitting in his chamber with his old minister, and he said, “Minister, tell me something. Do the people of my kingdom love me?”

The minister laughed and said, “Maharaj, the people would give their lives for you. But let me say one thing: the love that fills your kingdom is not for you.”

“Then who is it for?”

“The people of your kingdom love one another. And you taught them this, without teaching it, simply by your own example.”

Hearing this, Prahlada was quiet for a while.

Then he said, “Minister, my time is coming.”

“Maharaj?”

“I have grown very old now.”

“But Maharaj, you are young through tapas.”

“Yes. But I have made my decision now. I will leave my body.”

For a while the minister could say nothing, then he asked, “Maharaj, and the kingdom?”

“I have no son, but I have you. You will look after it.”

“But Maharaj…”

“Minister, you are like a son to me. You will manage.”

The minister bowed his head.

Prahlada closed his eyes, and Vishnu appeared.

“Prahlada.”

“Lord.”

“The time has come.”

“Yes.”

“Where do you wish to go?”

Prahlada said, “Lord, I have nowhere to go. Where I am, there I am.”

Vishnu laughed and said, “Very well said, Prahlada.”

And Prahlada’s body fell away. But his consciousness went nowhere, because it was everywhere already.

Across the kingdom people heard that Prahlada had left his body, and they wept a great deal. But some of the old ones, who had watched Prahlada for many years, smiled and said, “The king has gone nowhere. Where he is, there he is.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, I understand.”

“What do you understand?”

“When knowledge comes to me, even then I am not to abandon the work of ruling.”

“Exactly.”

“But within, I am to keep that steady consciousness.”

“Exactly.”

“And then I will be able to carry my work of ruling and my own true nature, both at once.”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, these days you understand me very quickly.”

Rama smiled.

“And one more thing, Rama.”

“Tell me.”

“Prahlada’s running of the kingdom was the work of his body, and his consciousness stood apart from it. When you return to Ayodhya and run the kingdom, it will be the same. You will run the kingdom, and within, you will remain the very thing that stands behind every action. Once this settles inside you, the kingdom’s bondage grows light.”

Rama asked, “Gurudev, you have not told me of Prahlada’s final moment.”

“Shall I tell it?”

“Tell me.”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, Prahlada lived in the kingdom of the daityas for many years and grew very old. The people around him changed, a new generation came, and Prahlada remained.

“One day he summoned his most beloved minister, the same one who had been with him for many years.

“He said, Minister, the time has come now. The minister bowed his head.

“Prahlada asked, What will happen after me? The minister said, The kingdom will go on. Hearing this, Prahlada laughed.”

Rama listened and asked, “Then?”

Vasishtha said, “Then Prahlada went into his chamber and closed his eyes. For a long while he sat that way, then a smile came to his face, and then his breath stopped.

“The minister wept outside, and deep within there was also a happiness. Because he knew that Prahlada had gone nowhere, that he was right there. Only his body was gone.”

Rama asked again, “And the people?”

“The people wept a great deal, and there was a great mourning across the kingdom. Then a new king came from Prahlada’s family, but he was not Prahlada, only a shadow of him. Because a king like Prahlada comes only once in a generation.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, hearing this story I feel one thing.”

“What?”

“My father too will go one day like this, and then the responsibility will fall on me.”

Vasishtha said, “Rama, yes. Every son must carry this weight one day. But you will be ready.

“How?”

“Because you have heard these stories. Within you now are Prahlada, Shukra, Lila, Chudala, all of them. When the weight comes upon you, all of them will be with you.”

Rama said, “Gurudev, that is a very great thing.”

“Yes.”

After this, Rama stayed silent a while.