The King Who Became a Lizard

The sages told the Pandavas of King Nriga, who for a single careless error in charity was cursed to live ages as a lizard, and was freed at last by the touch of the Lord Krishna - a tale of how even the smallest injustice in a ruler bears a terrible weight, and how grace redeems the long penance of the fallen.

In the city of Dwaraka, some boys of the Yadava clan, the young kinsmen of Krishna, were playing, and they came upon a great lizard fallen into a dry well, unable to climb out. It was a creature of huge size and strange aspect, and the boys, unable to draw it out with straps and ropes, ran to tell Krishna of the marvel. Krishna came to the well, and with his hand he lifted the great lizard out with ease. And no sooner had the Lord's hand touched the creature than the lizard was transformed: there stood, freed of his monstrous shape, a shining celestial being, a king of old, radiant and restored.

Krishna asked the radiant being who he was, and how he had come to be a lizard in a well. The being bowed and said, 'I am Nriga, a king of the solar line, a son of Ikshvaku's line, famous in my day for my charity. In my reign I gave gifts without number to the brahmanas - above all, cattle. I gave away cows beyond counting, herds upon herds, cows with gilded horns and silver hooves, each given with a pure heart to worthy and learned men. So great was my charity that the very number of the cattle I gave could not be reckoned.'

The king told how he had made it his life's glory to give, and to give to the deserving, holding charity to be the highest duty of a ruler; and how he had given so many cows that no count could hold them. And yet, for all this vast and pious giving, he had fallen into a long and terrible punishment - and the cause of it was a single small mistake, made without any ill intent, in the very act of his charity.

King Nriga told the cause of his fall. 'Once,' he said, 'a cow belonging to a certain brahmana strayed unnoticed into my herds. Not knowing it was already another's, I gave that cow away in charity to a second brahmana, along with my own cattle. The cow was led off to its new owner. But then the first brahmana, the true owner, came searching for his lost cow, and found it in the possession of the second; and he said, This is mine; it strayed from me. But the second said, No, it was given to me by King Nriga himself; it is mine now.

'So the two brahmanas fell to disputing over the one cow, each claiming it rightly - the one because it had been his and was lost, the other because the king had given it to him. And at last they came together before me, to lay the matter at my feet and have me set it right.' So through no greed or malice, but through a single oversight in his vast charity - giving away, all unknowing, a cow that was not his to give - the pious king had set two innocent men at odds, and had taken what belonged to one and given it to another. A small thing, it seemed; but its weight would prove immense.

King Nriga, eager to undo the wrong, tried earnestly to make it right. To the first brahmana, the true owner, he offered a hundred thousand other cows in exchange, that he might let the disputed cow remain with the second; he begged him to accept the exchange and forgive the error. But the brahmana refused. 'I do not want a hundred thousand cows,' he said. 'I want my own cow, the one that strayed from me. It is mine, and I will have it and no other.' And he turned and went away, refusing all recompense.

Then the king turned to the second brahmana, the one to whom he had given the cow, and offered him too a hundred thousand cows, or any number he wished, if he would give back the one disputed cow to its true owner. But this brahmana also refused. 'The cow was given to me by the king with his own hand,' he said; 'it is mine, and I will not part with it for any price.' And he too turned and went away. So both men refused all settlement, each holding fast to his claim; and the king was left with the wrong unrighted, having taken one man's property and given it to another, and unable to undo it.

In time King Nriga died, and was brought before Yama, the lord of the dead, to receive the reckoning of his deeds. Yama said to him, 'O King, your good deeds are without number, and a great reward of heaven awaits you for all your charity and your righteousness. But there is one sin upon you: that you took, all unknowing, a cow that belonged to one brahmana and gave it to another, and so did an injustice with another's property; and this sin you must expiate first, before you can enjoy the fruit of your good deeds.

'Choose, then, O King: will you suffer the fruit of this one sin first, and afterward enjoy the great reward of your virtues? Or will you enjoy your reward first, and suffer the punishment afterward?' And Nriga, choosing to clear the debt of his sin before tasting his reward, said he would suffer the punishment first. At once he fell from before Yama, tumbling down from the heavens, and as he fell he was changed into a lizard; and so he came to dwell, ages long, as a great lizard fallen in a well - the long penance for a single careless injustice, chosen so that his charity might be enjoyed unshadowed at the last.

For a great span of ages King Nriga lived on as a lizard, fallen in the dry well, remembering all the while his former glory and the cause of his fall, and waiting through the long years for his deliverance; for it had been foretold that the Lord himself would one day free him. And the day came at last when the boys of Dwaraka found the great lizard in the well, and Krishna came and lifted him out with his hand, and the touch of the Lord ended the long penance and restored the king to his shining celestial form.

Nriga, freed and radiant, bowed low before Krishna and gave thanks, knowing that it was the grace and the very touch of the Lord that had ended his ages of punishment and lifted him from the well of his long expiation. 'By your touch, O Lord,' he said, 'my sin is wholly burned away, and my long penance is done; now I may go to the heaven my charity has earned, unshadowed at last.' The penance for his small injustice was complete, and grace had set him free.

Before he ascended, Nriga, restored to his radiant form, circled Krishna in reverence and rose into the sky toward heaven. But Krishna, who had freed him, made the king's tale a warning to his own kinsmen and to all who hold power, especially over the property of others and the wealth of the holy.

'See,' Krishna taught, 'how even a king of boundless charity, who gave cattle beyond counting with a pure heart, fell into ages of punishment for a single careless wrong done with another's property. Let those who rule, and all who handle the wealth of brahmanas and the goods entrusted to them, take warning: that to take even a little of what is not rightly yours to give, even by oversight, even in the very act of charity, is a grievous thing that the law of deeds does not overlook. The property of others, and above all the property of the holy, is like fire; a little of it wrongly taken can burn up a mountain of merit. Be scrupulous, therefore, beyond all care, with what belongs to others; for power is no shield against the reckoning, and the smallest injustice by the mighty bears a heavy weight.'

The sages drew the lessons of the tale for the Pandavas.

'See, first, the terrible weight of even a small injustice, above all in those who hold power. King Nriga gave cattle without number with a pure heart, and was a paragon of charity; yet for one cow given by oversight that was not his to give - one small wrong done with another's property - he suffered ages as a lizard in a well. The tale teaches that the law of deeds does not excuse the powerful, nor overlook a wrong because it was small or unintended; that the property of others, and especially of the holy, must be handled with the most scrupulous care; and that a single careless injustice can outweigh, for a time, a mountain of good deeds. Let kings and all who handle what belongs to others take this most soberly to heart.

'And see, too, the grace that redeems the long penance of the fallen. Nriga suffered ages for his fault; but the touch of the Lord ended his penance and lifted him from the well to the heaven his charity had earned. Justice exacts its full price, yet grace meets the one who has paid it and sets him free. Be scrupulous, then, in all your dealings with what is not your own; and trust that the long penance of the truly repentant ends at last in grace.'

And the Pandavas, who were kings and handlers of great wealth, took soberly to heart the warning of the pious king undone by one small wrong.