
The Mysteries of Religion, Part Two
Lomasa, Arundhati, the night-wanderers and the elephants of the quarters give up the last of their secrets
The Conclave That Traded Mysteries
Bhishma was still on the bed of arrows, and the discourse he had been giving Yudhishthira for days had turned, in these last sections, into something stranger than counsel. He was reporting a conversation he had not witnessed.
"There was an assembly once," he had told the king, "of the deities and the Pitris and the great Rishis, and each of them in turn was asked to bring out the thing he knew that nobody else knew. Not the open duties. The duties whose reasons are hidden. Each one gave up his secret to the rest, and I have been telling thee what they said."
Vayu had spoken already, on the sesame and water of the rainy season and on the fires that grow angry. Now the sage Lomasa took his turn. Lomasa is the long-lived rishi who counts the ages by the fall of a single hair, and a being who has seen that many generations of men is worth hearing on the subject of what men get wrong.
"The Pitris of those men who, without having wedded wives of their own, betake themselves to the wives of other people," Lomasa said, "become filled with disappointment when the time for the Sraddhas comes."
That was his opening, and it is worth noticing where he placed the injury. He did not begin with the wronged husband. He began with the dead, sitting in their own region on the day of the offering, waiting for food from a descendant who has disqualified himself without knowing it.
"He who betakes himself to the wives of other people, he who indulges in sexual union with a woman that is barren, and he who appropriates what belongs to a Brahmana, are equally sinful. Without doubt the Pitris of such people cut them off, without desiring to have any intercourse with them. The offerings they make fail to gratify the deities and the Pitris."
Cut them off. The rite goes on being performed. The smoke goes up. Nobody at the other end is eating.
Lomasa on Sesame Seeds
Having said what severs a man from his fathers, Lomasa turned to what binds him to them, and his remedies were all small enough to be carried in one hand.
"Listen now to another mystery, unknown to all with regard to religion. One should, endued with faith, always do the bidding of one's preceptor and other seniors. On the twelfth lunar day, as also on the day of the full moon, every month, one should make gifts unto Brahmanas of ghee and the offerings that constitute Akshata."
Akshata is unbroken grain, rice whose husk has been taken off without splitting a single seed, and it is used precisely because it is whole. Twice a month, then, ghee and unbroken rice, given away.
"Listen to me as I say what the measure is of the merit that such a person acquires. By such an act one is said to increase Soma and the Ocean."
That is the claim, and it is not a modest one. The gift enlarges the moon and it enlarges the sea. Vasava, the chief of the celestials, confers upon such a man a fourth part of the merits that attach to a Horse-sacrifice, which is the rite that only emperors can afford. The divine Soma, well pleased, grants him the fruition of his wishes.
Then Lomasa named a duty he said was made for the present age.
"In this age of Kali, that duty, if performed, brings about much happiness to men. That man who, rising at early dawn and purifying himself by a bath, attires himself in white robes and with concentrated attention makes gifts unto Brahmanas of vessels full of sesame seeds, who makes offerings unto the Pitris of water with sesame seeds and honey, and who gives lamps as also the food called Krisara, acquires substantial merits."
Krisara is rice boiled with sesame. Everything in the list is sesame, water, oil and light.
"The divine chastiser of Paka has ascribed these merits to the gift of vessels of copper and brass filled with sesame seeds. He who makes gifts of kine, he who makes gifts of land, he who performs the Agnishtoma sacrifice with copious presents, are all regarded by the deities as acquiring merits equal to those of the man who gives vessels filled with sesame seeds."
A pot of seeds set beside a herd of cattle and a grant of land, and Indra himself declaring the weights equal.
Arundhati and the Cow's Horn
Then the Rishis and the Pitris and the deities turned, with concentrated attention, to a woman.
Arundhati is the wife of the rishi Vasishtha, and the assembly did not question her as somebody's wife. She was possessed of abundant wealth of penances and equal to her high-souled husband in energy, for in both vows and conduct she was his equal, and the epic says so before it lets her speak.
"We desire to hear from thee the mysteries of duty and religion," they said. "It behoveth thee, O amiable lady, to tell us what thou regardest as a high mystery."
"The great progress I have been able to achieve in penances," Arundhati answered, "is due to your consideration for me in thus remembering my poor self."
Then she set her condition, as every speaker in this assembly does. A knowledge of these things should be imparted only to a man possessed of faith or of a pure heart. Four should never be talked to at all: he that is bereft of faith, he that is full of pride, he that is guilty of Brahmanicide, and he that violates the bed of his preceptor.
Her first teaching was about a guest. The merits acquired by a man who gives away a Kapila cow every day for twelve years, or who adores the deities every month in a sacrifice, or who gives away hundreds of thousands of kine at the great Pushkara, do not come up to the merits of the man with whom a guest is gratified.
Then she gave the mystery she had been asked for, and it is the smallest rite in the whole conclave.
"If a person, rising at early dawn and taking with him a quantity of water and a few blades of Kusa grass, proceeds into a cow-pen, and arriving there washes a cow's horns by sprinkling thereon that water with those blades of Kusa grass, and then causes the water to drip down on his own head, he is regarded, in consequence of such a bath, as one that has performed his ablutions in all the sacred waters that the wise have heard to exist in the three worlds."
A man standing in the mud of a cow-pen before sunrise, letting water run off a horn onto his hair, has bathed in every ford in creation.
The deities and the Pitris cried "Excellent, Excellent," and worshipped her. Brahman himself said, "Praise be to thee. I grant thee this boon, that thy penances will continually increase."
The Ledger Kept by Chitragupta
Yama spoke next, and he did not speak for himself. He repeated what his own recorder had said.
"I have heard from thee an excellent and agreeable discourse," he told Arundhati. "Listen now to what Chitragupta has said, and what is agreeable to me. Nothing is lost of either piety or sin that is committed by creatures. On days of the full moon and the new moon, those acts are conveyed to the sun, where they rest. When a mortal goes into the region of the dead, the deity of the sun bears witness to all his acts."
That is the whole architecture of the thing, given in three sentences. The deeds are moved twice a month, they are stored in the sun, and the sun is called as witness at the trial.
Then came Chitragupta's list of duties, which is short and oddly domestic. Water for drink. Lamps for lighting darkness. Sandals. Umbrellas. Kapila kine given with due rites, and in Pushkara especially, unto a Brahmana conversant with the Vedas. And the Agnihotra always maintained with care.
Yama explained why those particular things. In course of time every creature is destined to undergo dissolution, and they that are of little understanding meet with great distress in the regions of the dead, for they become afflicted by hunger and thirst. They rot there, burning in pain, and enter into a thick darkness. So each gift on the list is a remedy aimed at that place.
For them that make gifts of water for drink there is ordained in the other world a large river of excellent water, inexhaustible, cool and sweet as nectar, and the giver drinks from it when he arrives. The man who gives lamps in this world has never even to behold the thick darkness. Soma and Surya and the deity of fire give him their light when he repairs to the other world, and the deities ordain that on every side of such a person there should be blazing light, so that when the giver of lamps walks into the world of the dead he himself blazes forth like a second Surya.
The gift of a single Kapila cow at the elder Pushkara, on the full moon of Karttika, is reckoned equal to a hundred kine with a bull, and cleanses even the gravest sins. A pair of sandals given to a deserving Brahmana earns as much. An umbrella given here buys comfortable shade there, out of the sun.
The Five Who Cannot Get Out, and the Wanderers of the Night
When Surya heard the opinions of Chitragupta repeated, his hairs stood on their ends. He turned to all the deities and the Pitris.
"Ye have heard the mysteries relating to duty, as propounded by the high-souled Chitragupta. Those human beings who, endued with faith, make these gifts unto high-souled Brahmanas become freed from fear of every kind. But these five kinds of men, stained with vicious deeds, have no escape."
He counted them out. He who is the slayer of a Brahmana. He who is the slayer of a cow. He who is addicted to the wives of other people. He who is bereft of faith in the Vedas. And he who derives his sustenance by selling the virtue of his wife. These, when they repair to the region of the dead, rot in hell like worms that live upon pus and blood, and they are avoided in this world by the Pitris, the deities, the Snataka Brahmanas and every regenerate person devoted to penance.
Then the assembly did something that shows what kind of gathering it was. Having heard from a rishi, a wife, a judge and the sun, they turned and put their question to the Pramathas, the invisible wanderers of the night who afflict men in their houses.
"Why do you afflict those men that are vile and impure and unclean? What acts are regarded as impediments to your power? What are those acts in consequence of which ye become incompetent to afflict men?"
The Pramathas answered honestly, and began with their prey. Men are rendered unclean by acts of sexual congress, and those who do not purify themselves afterwards are theirs. So are those who insult their superiors. So is the man who from stupefaction eats different kinds of meat, the man who sleeps at the foot of a tree, the man who keeps any animal matter under his pillow while he lies down, and the man who sleeps with his head where his feet should be or his feet where his head should be. So is the man who throws his phlegm and other unclean secretions into water.
"Verily, these men have many holes," the Pramathas said. "Without doubt these men deserve to be slain and eaten up by us."
What Keeps Them Out of a House
Then the wanderers of the night gave away the antidotes to their own power, which is the most peculiar gift made in the whole assembly.
"Listen now to what those acts are which are regarded as antidotes, and in consequence of which we fail to do any injury to men."
They named marks on the body first. Those upon whose persons occur streaks of Gorochana, the yellow pigment taken from cattle, cannot be afflicted. Nor can those who hold Vachas root in their hands, nor those who make gifts of ghee with Akshata, nor those who place ghee and Akshata on their heads, nor those who abstain from meat.
Then they named the house. That man is free from their power in whose dwelling the sacred fire burns day and night without ever being put out, or who keeps the skin or the teeth of a wolf in his abode, or a hill-tortoise, or from whose habitation the sacrificial smoke is seen to curl upwards, or who keeps a cat, or a goat that is either tawny or black in hue.
"Verily, those householders who keep these things in their houses always find them free from the inroads of even the fiercest spirits that live on carrion. Those beings also that, like us, range through different worlds in pursuit of pleasure, are unable to do any injury to such houses. Hence, ye deities, should men keep such articles in their houses. We have thus told you everything about that respecting which ye had great doubts."
Then Brahman, sprung from the primeval lotus, addressed the deities with Vasava at their head, and pointed downward.
"Yonder sits the mighty Naga who is a resident of the nether regions. Endued with great strength and energy, and with great prowess also, his name is Renuka. He is certainly a great being. Those mighty elephants who hold the entire earth with her hills, waters and lakes should be interviewed by this Renuka at your request. Let Renuka go to them and ask them about the mysteries of religion."
The deities, well pleased, commissioned Renuka, and the snake went down to where the upholders of the world stand at the eight quarters, bearing the weight on their heads and shoulders, and put the question to them.
The Elephants, the Bull, and the Rising Moon
The eight elephants of the quarters answered as beings answer who are tired.
"On the auspicious eighth day of the dark fortnight in the month of Karttika, when the constellation Aslesha is in the ascendant, one should make gifts of treacle and rice. Casting aside wrath, and living on regulated diet, one should make these offerings at a Sraddha, uttering these mantras the while: Let Valadeva and other Nagas possessed of great strength, let other mighty snakes of huge bodies that are indestructible and eternal, and let all the other great snakes that have taken their birth in their race, make Vali offerings to me for the enhancement of my strength and energy. Verily, let my strength be as great as that of the blessed Narayana when he raised the submerged Earth."
The offering itself is made on an ant-hill, when the maker of day retires to his chambers in the west. Raw sugar and rice, on an ant-hill previously scattered with Gajendra flowers, with blue cloths and fragrant unguents laid there too.
"If offerings are made in this way, those beings that live in the nether regions, bearing the weight of the upper regions upon their heads, become well pleased. As regards ourselves, we also do not feel the labour of upholding the Earth. Afflicted with the burden we bear, even this is what we think beneficial for men, without the slightest regard for selfish concerns."
Brahmanas and Kshatriyas and Vaisyas and Sudras alike, they said, observing this for a full year and fasting on each occasion, do the duties of hospitality for a hundred years to all the mighty elephants in the three worlds. The deities and the Pitris and the Rishis applauded Renuka.
Then Maheswara spoke. "Searching your memories, excellent are the duties ye all have recited." His own was the cow. The man who gives food every day for a month to kine, contenting himself with one meal a day, advances daily in merit, for kine are upholding the three worlds with the deities, the Asuras and human beings. "Formerly, in the Krita age, I had expressed my approval of these creatures, and afterwards Brahman solicited me to show kindness towards them. It is for this reason that a bull to this day stands as the device on my standard overhead."
Even a single day's feeding of cattle, he said, returns to the giver a fourth part of all the merit he wins in his life.
The Last Two Speakers
Skanda spoke last of the givers.
"That person who takes a little earth from the horns of a bull of blue complexion, smears his body therewith for three days, and then performs his ablutions, acquires great merits. By such an act he would wash away every stain and evil, and attain to sovereign sway hereafter. As many times as he takes his birth in this world, so many times does he become celebrated for his heroism."
Then his second mystery, which is done at moonrise. Taking a vessel of copper and placing therein some cooked food mixed with honey, one should offer it as Vali unto the rising moon on the evening when that luminary is at full. The Sadhyas, the Rudras, the Adityas, the Viswedevas, the twin Aswins, the Maruts and the Vasus all accept that offering, and by it Soma increases, and the ocean with him.
Vishnu closed the assembly, and he did not add a rite. He spoke about the listening itself.
"That person who, endued with faith and freed from malice, listens every day with concentrated attention to the mysteries in respect of religion and duty that are preserved by the high-souled deities and by the Rishis, has never to succumb to any evil. Such a person becomes also freed from every fear. That man who, with his senses under thorough control, reads these sections, acquires all the merits that attach to their actual performance."
One wins abundant merit by reading these mysteries, or by reciting them to others, or by hearing them recited, and the Havya and the Kavya offered by such a man are eaten for ever by the deities and the Pitris, and become inexhaustible. A man guilty of every sin save the grave and heinous ones is cleansed of them all by listening.
Then Bhishma came back out of the assembly to the field where he was lying.
"Even these, O king of men, are the mysteries in respect of religion and duty dwelling in the breasts of the deities. Held in high respect by all the gods and promulgated by Vyasa, they have now been declared by me for thy benefit. One conversant with religion thinks this knowledge superior to the whole earth full of riches."
And he ended, as Arundhati had begun, by shutting a door. It is not to be imparted to one bereft of faith, nor to an atheist, nor to one fallen away from the duties of his order, nor to one destitute of compassion, nor to one devoted to the science of empty disputations, nor to one hostile to his preceptors, nor to one who thinks all creatures to be different from himself.
Dharma Lesson
The gods in this assembly are not asked for doctrine. They are asked for the small hidden mechanics of merit, and what they produce is a list of things that cost almost nothing: a pot of seeds, a lamp, a cup of water for a stranger, a pair of sandals, an umbrella, water off a cow's horn. The scale of the promised reward is deliberately out of proportion to the act, because the point is that the poor man is not shut out of the sacred economy. Even the night-wanderers who feed on the unclean are made to say aloud what would keep them from a doorway. And Vishnu ends by pricing the listening as high as the doing, which is the only reason a catalogue like this is worth preserving at all.