Vinayaśarma is from the Godāvarī region. His age was said to exceed one hundred and seventy years. He had arrived in Dhānyakaṭakam two years prior. Since his arrival, every morning, three Ghaḍiyas [1](units of time) after sunrise, he would seat himself in the Viṣṇu temple and begin his recitation of the Purāṇas. He would speak for about three or three and a half ghaḍiyas. After sunset, he would return to the temple and speak again for another two or three ghaḍiyas. He did not read from a single text; he knew the entire Sanskrit Rāmāyaṇam by heart. While it seemed he was primarily reciting the Rāmāyaṇam, he wove in stories from many Purāṇas and touched upon diverse subjects—the pastimes of Kṛṣṇa[2], the war between the Kauravas and Pāṇḍavas[3], the numerous works written by the great sage Vyāsa, and teachings on the nature of eternal time. He spoke of ancient ages, the current passing age, and the stories of former kings like Nala. Everyone listened with rapt attention.
No one knew the past history of Vinayaśarma. People assumed he was simply an elderly Brahmin who had sought the King's patronage and lived by reciting the Purāṇas. But Jayadratha did not believe this. He had been in Dhānyakaṭakam for four years. He had seen many scholars visit the King, receive honors, and depart. None had ever stayed to recite Purāṇas in this manner. It was not customary to have daily Purāṇa recitations within the fort of the capital. Such recitations were common in large villages and towns, but the fort usually housed scholars of a different sort—tutors for the princes, Vedic scholars for study, and teachers of statecraft (Rājanīti) and martial sciences (Śāstravidya). Those who taught martial arts were usually of the Kṣatriya varna, while teachers of statecraft could be either Brahmins or Kṣatriyas. These teachers lived within the fort, constantly instructing the royal family. They occasionally attended the royal court and engaged in scholarly debates. This daily recitation by Vinayaśarma was a first. Moreover, he had gained the King's audience immediately upon arrival and started his recitals at once. Usually, a visiting scholar had to wait quite some time for an audience, and even longer for royal favor. Vinayaśarma had established himself instantly. This raised more suspicion in Jayadratha than in anyone else.
Vinayaśarma had come with his elderly wife. Their lodgings were arranged within the fort. Jayadratha found it impossible to uncover the details of Vinayaśarma's origins. Dussala tried many times to speak with his wife, but whenever she visited, the woman would claim to be busy cooking. Often, the door to their house was bolted from the inside. It was unclear where she went. Sometimes Vinayaśarma would be alone, and Dussala would return without speaking.
Jayadratha could have gone to speak with Vinayaśarma directly, but he did not wish to. There was only one way: he had to attend the recitations himself, listen to the nuances, and deduce from the scholar's words what purpose had brought him there. Yet, even after two years of listening, Jayadratha could not grasp it. Occasionally, when Jayadratha was out of town, people would tell him that Vinayaśarma had said certain things. Based on those reports, Jayadratha's suspicions grew. Why did such topics only arise when he was absent? He attended most days; why did the specific discussions occur only during his rare absences? This suggested that Vinayaśarma knew exactly who Jayadratha was. Jayadratha never asked questions during the recitations, except once. He hadn't intended to ask out of curiosity, but rather to see what the reaction would be. Nothing significant seemed to come of it.
Few people visited Vinayaśarma's house, but one royal official did. His name was Candraśēkhara Varma. When Jayadratha tried to investigate him, he found nothing out of the ordinary, yet Varma held significant authority within the fort. It was said he was the King's personal bodyguard, yet he was rarely seen by the King's side. He spent most of his time at home. He was clearly wealthy, with many servants.
Jayadratha had a nagging suspicion. Once, when he had prompted Śrīmukha to jump into the waterfall—well, he hadn't forced him; his words had merely inspired a surge of enthusiasm in the prince—he had seen someone standing near distant trees. Was that person Candraśēkhara Varma? In that blinding sunlight, it was impossible to be certain. He had tried hard to recognize him, but in that heat, which felt like shimmering jewels being poured from a vessel, everything was a blur. However, Jayadratha's eyes were very sharp. Not only that, but on that day, he had applied a special collyrium [4](kāṭuka) to his eyes. People from the northwest—from the lands of the Rāmatha, Hāra, Hūṇa, Bāhlika, Kirāta, Śaka, and Barbara—use this during the day. Those are mountainous, rainless lands where the summer sun is scorching. To see into the distance and prevent the eyes from being dazzled by the glare, they apply this ointment. Jayadratha had used it that day. He should have seen clearly, yet he hadn't. The only conclusion he could reach was that the man was likely Candraśēkhara Varma, and it was impossible for Varma to have recognized him.
That day, Jayadratha had changed his appearance entirely. The clothes he wore were not his daily attire. In his house, he had two large baskets filled with various disguises. No one knew they were there. In those days, large baskets were woven from cane, with lids and hooks. Most people used them to store their belongings. Opening those specific baskets was impossible for anyone but him; one had to utter a specific mantra first. If someone tried to open them without the mantra, a snake would emerge and bite them. This snake, a cubit long and marked with red and black, was found only in the high mountains of the Śaka country. The mantra and the snake were connected. The only catch was that if the opener didn't care about being bitten and forced the basket open, the snake actually did nothing—it wasn't a real threat, but everyone would flee in terror at the sight of it. Thus, there was no way Candraśēkhara Varma could have recognized him in his disguise, especially without the protective eye-ointment in that midday sun.
While Jayadratha was pondering the motives of Vinayaśarma and Candraśēkhara Varma, one night Dussala spoke to her son:
"My son! Vinayaśarma's wife is named Jāhnavī. She visits the Queen and other royal women to tell them Purāṇa stories. That is her sole task. I didn't know this until now, but I found out because, on the orders of the Crown Prince's wife, she went to instruct Nāgārjuna's wife, Nīlā. It seems she gives instructions to everyone. They say she knows everything except the Vedas. She gave mantra-initiation to the Queen, the Crown Princess, and Vijayasiṃha's wife. She is the guru for the women in the households of many ministers and generals. The Crown Princess personally escorted her to Nīlā yesterday. Nīlā told me all this."
Jayadratha asked, "Nīlā didn't say anything to them, did she?"
Dussala replied, "Of course she did! You know how impulsive she is. She told them, 'You don't need to tell me anything. I know my own faith. I have my own gods. I have already received initiation.' She didn't mention my name, but all the servants know I visit her every day. They will put two and two together."
Jayadratha said, "Mother! Before you started going there daily, I already circulated a fabricated reason for your visits. I didn't tell you, but tell Nīlā tomorrow. If anyone asks her about her relationship with you, she should say this: Vikrama is her foster father, but she has a biological father who lives on Śambhara's Island. This island is on the coast between the Kṛṣṇā and Godāvarī rivers."
He continued bitterly, "These Indians and their Purāṇas—nothing but unbearable fables. Here is one of them: Kṛṣṇa had a son named Pradyumna. He died too. When the Yādavas got drunk and fought among themselves, stabbing each other to death, he must have died then. And they claim he is the son of Śrī Mahā Viṣṇu from Vaikuṇṭha[5]! Manmatha! The god of desire, the cause of union between all men and women! This race has no shame in creating such fictions. He is a lewd god who was burnt by the fire from Śiva's eye. What is this Śiva? What is this fire? What is this story? And what kind of 'civilization' is this? They have entire kingdoms to protect these vile beliefs. Anyone who doesn't share these wicked faiths is their enemy. They drive them out of the country. All kingdoms without these beliefs are called Mleccha kingdoms! Uraga, Abhisāra, Darada, Bāhlika, Kirāta, Śaka, Yavana, Barbara, Rāmatha, Hāra, Hūṇa...—all are called Mleccha lands! Why? Because they don't perform sacrifices (yajnas), don't kill animals for sacrifices, don't practice fake prayers, don't build temples, and don't place idols in them. That Rāma, the son of King Daśaratha, has become a god. As if that wasn't enough, we have this Kṛṣṇa. He is a god. And Manmatha was born from his womb. He supposedly killed a demon named Śambhara. A demon doesn't have fangs and claws like they write. Tomorrow morning, I could be a demon; you could be a demoness. Śambhara's Island is the city of that Śambharāsura. Pradyumna supposedly killed him. There is a secret political alliance between the kings of Hastināpura and these Āndhra kings. Romapāda's father and Dhṛtarāṣṭra[6]had some friendship. It is said Romapāda's father and Kṛṣṇa's father, Vasudēva, were friends. When Pradyumna came to kill Śambhara, the Āndhra armies supposedly helped him. Someone told me this story—someone who opposes the Indian religion but pretends to follow it outwardly. There are many like that."
Dussala sighed, "My son! You intended to talk about Nīlā's real father, but you went off on this long rant. This is what I fear about you. You ask the right questions, but you cannot keep a secret perfectly. Look at you—the moment the name Śambhara's Island came up, you told the whole story. All of that was unnecessary!"
Jayadratha: "I spoke like this because it is you. Why would I speak so to anyone else?"
Dussala: "That is a thoughtless statement. Speaking like that is in your nature. Our nature slips out when we forget ourselves. One must have passion, but who knows when that passion will leak out? Virtue is the ability to keep even one's nature under control."
Jayadratha: "Yes, Mother! Am I the cause for this? You are!."
Dussala: "I know what you are saying. Back then, it was impossible to carry out this internal conflict. We must remain Kṣatriyas. We must keep doing this. If we are not Kṣatriyas, our whole plan is exposed. Never mind that. Tell me the story of Śambhara."
Jayadratha: "Nīlā's father is from there. I told some people we lived there for three years. I said that when we were there, we were very close to Nīlā's birth family. That is why you visit her. She naturally loves you. She will make sure no one knows you are her 'guru.'
Meanwhile, that Jāhnavī will visit Nīlā. The Crown Princess won't let it rest. It seems no one in the palace likes Nīlā, except the Crown Princess. While all the other royal women turn up their noses at Nīlā's independent behavior, the Crown Princess just laughs. She must have an independent spirit of her own. Haven't you befriended her? I have befriended the Crown Prince, after all."
Dussala: "I have been waiting for that. I shouldn't go to the Crown Princess's mansion. The Queen and other elderly royal women are often there. There is nothing I can do there except risk exposing our secret. The Crown Princess doesn't often visit Nīlā. If Nīlā has work, she must go to the Crown Princess; that is the royal protocol. But if there is a festival at Nīlā's mansion, all the royal women will come, including the Crown Princess. Then, I can have Nīlā ask her, 'Sister, why don't you stay a while?' After two or three such instances, I will arrange to speak with her. This will take time. How far has your plan progressed? Can you tell me about it?"
In their private quarters in the choultry, the two were having this conversation at midnight. Periodically, Jayadratha would get up and walk around the house to see if anyone was listening. To the south of their room was a wall, and beyond it was another room that was part of the choultry. It was a tiled house. Though sound wouldn't easily penetrate the wall, it could travel upward. He meticulously checked the wall every day for any holes bored by insects, filling them with thick lime paste. No one behind that wall could hear their words, yet his suspicion was boundless. The wall went up to the roof, which sloped on both sides. The triangular portion where the wall met the roof was less sturdy than the lower wall—it was made of single stones, unplastered. He didn't want to arouse suspicion by asking to have it plastered.
He wondered if a ladder could be used to see if there were gaps in that upper section. He hadn't had a ladder in the six years he'd been there. He worried what people would think if he brought one in now. They had nothing to hide, really—every day, all their supplies, from firewood to pickles, came from the fort. What could they possibly be hiding? If he built a loft (aṭaka), what would he put there? He could put the baskets containing his disguises there, but then someone could look over the single-stone wall and see them. It was better to keep the baskets on the floor. He had already prepared an answer in case someone opened them and asked about the strange items inside.
The mother and son always spoke in whispers, though Jayadratha would get loud when he grew passionate. The Brahmin in charge of the choultry was his friend. Jayadratha had heard that the Brahmin told people in the fort, "Jayadratha and his mother are very good people. They mind their own business. They just cook a bit of food, go out occasionally, or just sleep on their cots." Still, for safety, he would circle the house three times whenever he spoke with his mother.
Dussala told him firmly: Jayadratha should not ask Vinayaśarma any more questions. She herself would instruct Nīlā and make her a disciple of Jāhnavī to uncover their secrets. If Jayadratha's plan succeeded in the meantime, everything would be easier.
⁂※※※⁂※※※⁂
While Dussala and Jayadratha were talking at midnight, Jāhnavī and Vinayaśarma were also conversing. Vinayaśarma did not circle his house repeatedly out of fear of eavesdroppers, nor did they whisper. However, Jāhnavī's voice was thin; it was hard to hear her even ten yards away. Vinayaśarma's voice was deep, but he let Jāhnavī do most of the talking, only asking two or three questions. They had no major need for secrecy, as Candraśēkhara Varma's servants kept watch around their house in shifts. No one knew they were guards; they looked like commoners—a beggar, a blacksmith, local residents known to everyone. No one suspected them of being secret spies who had lived in the fort for ages.
After the evening fire-rituals (Agnihotra), Jāhnavī said to her husband, "We have been in this town for two years, and we don't know what has become of our children. The eldest was with King Janamējaya, and the second was with King Śrutaśrava in Magadha. There is no news from the second one either. We are subjects of King Janamējaya, and this might cause anger in King Śrutaśrava. Shouldn't we have kept him with King Janamējaya too?"
Vinayaśarma: "Jāhnavī! Ever since Pāṇḍurāja's conquest, from the southern tip (Sētu) to the Himalayas (Śitācalam) has been under their authority. Duryōdhana enjoyed that luxury. With the Rājasūya Yāgam[7], the empire came to Dharmarāja[8]. After the Kuru-Pāṇḍava war, King Yudhiṣṭira performed the Turagamēdha[9](Horse Sacrifice), solidifying the empire. King Parīkṣit ruled for sixty years. Then the kingdom came to King Janamējaya. In the war, Sahadēva, the son of Jarāsandha, died. His son Sōmāpi ruled for fourteen years. Then Śrutaśravasa came to the throne.
On the day of the Rājasūya Yāgam, Kṛṣṇa, Bhīma, and Arjuna went and killed Jarāsandha. Forty years later, the Bhārata war happened. That resentment hasn't left that lineage. Śrutaśravasa still holds that grudge. But what can he do? No king in Bhārata today can stand against Janamējaya. As far as I know, the Pāṇḍava empire won't fall for several hundred years. Our second son isn't just a regular employee in Śrutaśravasa's court; he is the head of King Janamējaya's spy network. He has nothing to fear. Don't be anxious."
Jāhnavī: "If he were just an employee, I wouldn't be anxious. It's because he is the head of the spy network that I worry."
Vinayaśarma: "Then you should worry about me too. True, I am old, so what does it matter to you!"
Jāhnavī: "Never mind that, there's no need to worry about you. There is no enmity between the Āndhra kingdom and the Hastināpura kingdom. For many years, one has been the empire and the other the vassal. They have never rebelled. None of them have grown 'horns' yet."
Vinayaśarma: "Time is never the same. In the future, they too will grow 'horns.' But several years must pass for that."
Jāhnavī: "How many years?"
Vinayaśarma: "There is no hurry now. When will it happen? Another two thousand three hundred years must pass. You won't be here, and I won't be here."
Jāhnavī: "Will the Hastināpura empire last that long?"
Vinayaśarma: "Will the Māgadhas stay quiet? The Kṣatriya kingdoms will vanish. After fifteen hundred years, the Māgadhas will become the emperors of India."
Jāhnavī: "Who has seen whether that will happen or not?"
Vinayaśarma: "Those who know the flow of time (Kālajñulu) have seen it."
Jāhnavī: "Fine. You told me to speak with the royal women and gather news. Why don't you ask me what that news is?"
Vinayaśarma: "You tell me occasionally without me asking, don't you? Why should I ask?"
Jāhnavī: "When you assign a task to someone, you should check how they performed it."
Vinayaśarma: "If the person assigned is deeply virtuous (Dharmaśīla), there is no need to ask."
Jāhnavī: "Then I will tell you without being asked and prove my virtue. The Crown Prince Śrīmukha's wife is Kālindī."
Vinayaśarma: "One man's wife is Nīlā, another's is Kālindī. Were the other six there too?"
Jāhnavī: "Romapāda's wife is Rukmiṇī. Nāgnajiti doesn't seem to be there."
Vinayaśarma: "Ok let them be, what do you have to say about Kālindī?"
Jāhnavī: "I should tell you without you asking."
Vinayaśarma: "I shouldn't ask at the start, but I can ask in between."
Jāhnavī: "Royal women can speak in any manner. Kālindī is the daughter of the King of Puṇḍra. We were in Hastinā when that wedding took place. She is a very strange person. We don't know what she's thinking. She just smiles at whatever we say. Even if you tell her the most bizarre news, she does nothing but smile. She is very beautiful, with a broad face, a fine forehead, beautiful eyes, and a full figure."
Vinayaśarma: "Did you read her palm (Sāmudrikam)?"
Jāhnavī: "She didn't show me her hand. So many others were clamoring for me to see their hands, but she didn't show me hers even once. I asked once, but she just smiled and stayed silent. It wouldn't be polite for me to grab the hand of the Crown Princess."
Vinayaśarma: "Did you initiate her into the Tāraka[10] Mantra?"
Jāhnavī: "She received initiation because of the Queen's insistence."
Vinayaśarma: "An initiation guru has certain rights. You can use them to see her hand."
Jāhnavī: "Ārya! It's not that simple. She has a great dignity about her. Looking at her makes one feel a slight inner fear. It's impossible to be overly familiar with her. I am a Brahmin, an elderly woman, and her initiation guru. She gives me all the respect I am due, but she keeps a boundary, like a line drawn between us. Even the Queen keeps her distance. Her respect for her mother-in-law is boundless. One day, when they were together, I observed carefully. The daughter-in-law didn't show any grand outward respect, yet she would give a small smile, take a step forward, and seem to bow—appearing to show inexpressible respect."
Vinayaśarma: "There's no need to see her hand. She is a woman fit to be the wife of a great King. Today, a doubt in my mind has been cleared."
Jāhnavī: "Since I became her initiation guru, she has shown more confidence on me. I never heard her say more than ten words at a time, but today she spoke a hundred. I will tell you. She is worried about her husband, Śrīmukha. In her father's house, there is a great astrologer who saw Śrīmukha's horoscope. Kālindī studied Sanskrit and a bit of astrology under him. He loved her like his own child. When she was leaving for her husband's home, he called her aside and whispered, 'Child! You might know this yourself, but I cannot remain silent. In the coming year of Plavaṅga, there is a danger to your husband. it will come from the Mlecchas. Watch over your husband carefully.' The year of Plavaṅga is still three years away. Her suspicion is that it won't wait that long; some danger might come sooner. She has many servants from her father's house, and she had them search for any wicked Mlecchas in Dhānyakaṭakam. They found none, but her mind is not at peace. Being a composed person, she doesn't show it outwardly. I didn't know this for two years."
"Today she told me: 'Jannemma! I have been observing all my husband's movements. He loves me dearly and is faithful to me. He doesn't have the traits of other princes. He tells me everything on his mind, but he is hiding one thing. He tells me, "I am going there; I will be back in a few days." But once a fortnight—I can't say exactly when, it might be more than a fortnight, or twice in a single week—he goes somewhere at night. He leaves at midnight and returns before the cock crows. No one knows of his departures and arrivals except me and the gatekeeper. When I asked where he goes, he said, "Beloved! I will tell you later. Don't force me on this one matter. If you don't force me, I will believe you love me." After such an oath, what can I do? I don't believe he goes for another woman. Truly, the secrets of hearts between man and wife can't be known fully; everything is inferred from outward signs and circumstances. I don't think my husband's nature can hide that. I have a suspicion that he is engaged in a secret consultation with some man. That man must be formidable. And it needn't be just one man; I think a few are meeting in secret. It is definitely not a political matter, or the future King would have included him. My opinion is that it is a secret gathering of people obsessed with unconventional spiritual ideas. There are certain mantras and rituals outside the tradition—outside the Vedic path—and some behave like this in those matters. He is a good Kṣatriya; he could practice Yoga. Our priest is there, a man of great mantra-attainment; he could have taken initiation from him and sat in meditation until midnight! Would I have said no? I have observed my husband's nature minutely since I arrived. I rarely see him during the day. I have judged his nature from the scenes during our private moments at night. There is a dissatisfaction in his soul, a desire for some limitless bliss. He thinks that if he does a certain task, he will find some satisfaction, and he will do it at any cost. He won't even consider what I might think.'"
"She continued: 'Some friend has noticed this nature in him and is playing upon it. I don't know his name, or even if he exists, but if he does, he is attracting him. I don't have the depth of astrological knowledge to understand the nuances. My guru is in my father's kingdom, and I keep waiting for him to visit, but he never comes. He looked after me like his own daughter. When I was leaving, I even said, "Grandfather! You must visit me occasionally." He promised he would. I am telling you all this because you must tell your husband. I don't think he came here just to recite Purāṇas. I have come many times and listened to his words from behind the curtain. He is a knower of Brahman[11](Brahmajñāni). He saw Lord Śrī Kṛṣṇa with his own eyes when he was young. These common people don't know who he really is. I haven't come to the recitals more than ten or twelve times. He saw the divine Vyāsa. He walked on the battlefield during the Bhārata war. When Śrī Kṛṣṇa Dēva gave the Gītā discourse to Arjuna, he was near that chariot. Tell him. Ask him to find out.'"
Translation by Vishal Royal
[1] 1 ghadiya is exactly 24 minutes. When the text says he speaks for three ghadiyas, he is speaking for exactly 72 minutes.
[2] scripture - srimad Bhagavatam
[3] scripture - mahabharatam
[4] kajal / kinda eyeshadow
[5] (The adobe of Vishnu)
[6] ref: mahabharata, he is the brother of pandavas father and a blind king
[7] The Rājasūya Yāgam is a complex and elaborate Vedic ritual that lasts for more than two years. It is performed by a kṣatriya king and is a means by which the sacrificer (yajamāna) is anointed and becomes a king. The ritual affirms the king's sovereignty over the realm and its inhabitants, reinforcing the superior ritual status of the brahmins. It includes various sequences, such as a ritualized dicing match, and the dakṣinā is significant. The Rājasūya is also mentioned in the Mahābhārata, where Yudhiṣṭhira performs a rājasūya, followed by the famous dicing match.
[8] dharmaraja is yudhistira,
[9] a royal sacrifice in which a king would let loose a consecrated horse, protected by an army, to move about at its free will as a challenge to other kings and it would be brought back after a year when the king would be consecrated as an emperor of the region in which the horse moved unchallenged; a horse-sacrifice.
[10] maybe here it refers to 'Rama Taraka mantram'
[11] supreme god,