Parabels of Mahavir

Author(s): Harindranath Chattopadhyaya
Publisher: Shri Kiran Publishers
Catalog link: https://jainqq.org/explore/006771/1

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PARABELS OF SRAKAVIR,
HARINDRANATH CHATTOPADHYAYA

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PARABLES OF MAHAVIR

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PARABLES OF MAHAVIR HARINDRANATH CHATTOPADHYAYA
NARRATION
KIRANBHAI

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Copyright (C) 1979 by Mr. K. M. PAREKH
Published by SHRI KIRAN PUBLISHERS 20, ALSABAH COURT, 73, MARINE DRIVE, BOMBAY-20.
Cover Design by MANA
Rs. 20=00
Printers : Jayanti D, Shah Ladhani Printers 1/3122, Badekha Chakla, Kaji's Maidan, Surat-395 001.

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IN SACRED MEMORY DEDICATED TO
Shri Babubhai Motilal Dahyabhai Jhaveri

WITH DEEP GRATITUDE
BACHUBHAI
JAGDISH
VIDYABEN

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CONTENTS
Foreword
Introduction
Preface
1. The Birth of Golden Babe 2. A Mahavir Parable 3. Bhagwan Mahavir's Impossible Vow 4. A Drop of Honey 5. Parable of the Crystal Cloth .. 6. Golden Words of Bhagwan Mahavir
.

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FOREWORD
The memorable first milestone of the long untired journey was laid in the year 1968 in a little cabin 7x31 on the Fifth Floor of Al Sabah Court which stands on Marine Drive, Bombay-the first milestone to mark the starting of an enchanting work : parables and sayings of Lord Mahavir in verse-form, prose and play-form, exquisite parables which literally intoxicated my heart and mind, rendering the labour across five years of consistant and concentrated creation, a labour of dedication at the feet of the Divine Master Mahavir.
How was the Work first conceived ? I must express sheer unqualified gratefulness to Kiranbhai in whose quiet cabin I sat day after day, taking down scraps of notes which served as shorthandwhile he read out or recounted parable after parable with undescribable vividness. While I listened in dumb admiration to Kiranbhai I felt I was literally whisped away to the age of Mahavir, the Golden Lord, on whose very presence I seemed to sit building up the structure of my writings interweaving through them eternal truths embodied in the sacred Jain Scriptures.
I experienced sheer calm excitement of elevated consciousness. All credit goes to Kiranbhai who has himself for years been a acknowledged guru, guide or philosopher friend of thousands of persons

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who have been listening with rapt attention to his superb Talks at Shri Godiji's Temple at Pydhoni or elsewhere.
Hundreds of his friends and admirers, including myself, accept him as a first-rate savant, a scholar of high distinction; a sort of walking encyclopaedia. He has proved that he is thoroughly versed in various philosophies; Egyptian, Tibetan, Talmud, Kabala, Tarot, I ching, to mention but a few-in short he is learned in both Oriental and occidental religions, beliefs, rituals, traditions and various sorts of mysticism. He is deeply interested in the occult laws of the interelationships between macrocosm and microcosm, Yes! together Kiranbhai and I without the least desire to publicize it, have journeyed across 2500 years, laying milestone upon milestone of literary creation. And we have been travelers who never experienced fatigue-since being true travelers, it never struck us to count our footfalls.
At last after long and patient waiting the first volume is about to see the light of the day-the first of several more volumes to follow. The books will be issued by Shri Kiran Publishers specially brought about by Kiranbhai to make the memorable Parables reach out to the world.
We kneel before the Golden Master, Lord Mahavir, the Light of light, invoking Him in all humitliy to bless our effort and crown it with success.
Harindranath Chattopadhyaya

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INTRODUCTION A single parable has power to transmute human soul to the heights unknown. These religious parables cover spiritual truths of undreamt dimensions. Only he who can read inbetween lines may have some glimpse.
Parables of Mahavir are not fiction. Whatever we have presented here are a few of the precious jewels from the vast ocean of Jain Scriptures.
The credit goes to Dr. Harindranath to present these parables beautifuly in English version. He is a poet of global renown and a marvel of versatility. Born in April 1898 at the tender age of eight, he started composing in English, When his first book of poems, The Feast of Youth, appeared in 1918, Sri Aurobindo paid him a warm tribute and praised the poems as 'the beginnings of a supreme poetic utterance of the Indian soul in the rhythms of the English tongue'. And Rabindranath Tagore said : “My mentle falls on Harindranath." Since then, many collections of his poems were published. He represented India at the World Conference of thirty Poets held in Montreal in 1967. The President of India conferred on him the signal honour of Padma Bhusan
He also has his deep spiritual longings. He stayed with Sri Aurobindo and the Mother for three years and at the ashram of Bhagawan Raman Maharshi for months together.

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I have retained and shall always retain in my memory the spiritual thrilled hours Dr. Harindranath and I spent at morning in my little cabin, where in I have also spent hours in contemplation of the Divire. It was a most memorable experience indeed. It would be no exageration to say that while we worked together at the Jain Parables-almost fevershly and breathlessly, we seemed in the presence of the Divine and were blessed for our creative effort, Surely! without these Blessings, the work could not have continued so triumphantly.
Needless to say that we are continuing the great Work. The K. H. Publication hope to bring in light volume after volume with unflagging interest and regularity.
The responsibility of narration of these parables is mine. I owe an enormous debt of gratitude to all those who joined me in preparation of Jain Parables.
With my Peace and Love.
KIRANBHAI

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PREFACE
Ahimsa and Syadvad, non-injury to living beings in any form are the basic teachings of Bhagwan MAHAVIR the 24th Tirthankar. He practised and preached Love for all the creatures of the whole universe. His life was full of Compassion, Truth and Austerity. He was the symbol of Sublime Love.
His life was the climax of human achievement, exposition of the great potentialities of the soul power. His transcendental meditation of the highest order and of the purest form help any individual, irrespective of caste or creed to attain soul perfection. What is needed is its proper assimilation and translation into practical life. The message of Bhagwan Mahavir is for the mankind as a whole.
His parables are full with fragrance of Universal Love and help for internal cleanliness of the soul by removing carnal desires and evil passions.
We hope let these Parables help to dedicate ourselves to the Teachings of Bhagwan Mahavir.
Be Peace to ALL.
MUNI ARUN VIJAY

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THE BIRTH OF THE GOLDEN BABE

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THE BIRTH OF THE GOLDEN BABE
When the golden Lord Mahavir was in his mother's womb, she beheld fourteen dreams. The mother's name was Trishala. She was a beautiful woman ! Queen of king Siddhartha, a calm and radiant being who was loved by his people. The queen had already given birth to a son whose name was Nandivardhan; and to a daughter whose name was Sudarshana. The people of the Kingdom said : "The queen is beautiful; so is the princess beautiful. The king is handsome; so is the prince handsome."
And now, when the news spread everywhere that the queen Trishala was with child, they were very happy. “I wonder whether it is going to be a son again", a passerby thought aloud.
“What does it matter whether it is going to be a son or a daughter, anyway'', another remarked.
“In any case, the queen is lovely and what she brings into the world must surely turn out to be lovely'', said an old woman to an old man, her neighbour, while sitting on her doorstep.
"In any case, the king is handsome and whether it be a girl or a boy, there is bound to be a royal light in its face", remarked the old man to the old woman, while he smoked a leaf pipe.
"How well matched they are : King Siddhartha and queen Trishala !" remarked a newly married bride to her bridegroom....

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[4]
A young fellow who overheard her said : "So are you, although you be not king and queen and have no Kingdom", and he laughed !
News came to the palace that the people were anxiously waiting for the new arrival.
News went out of the palace that the queen had fourteen dreams which flowed into her like to a strange procession
Fourteen Dreams : The first was a Lion The second was an Elephant The third was a Bull The fourth was Laxmi, Goddess of Wealth. The fifth was a Garland of Flowers. The sixth was the Moon The seventh was the Sun The eighth was a Big Banner The ninth was a round pot filled with Nectar The tenth was a Lotus Lake The eleventh was an Ocean The twelth was a Flying Chariot of the gods The thirteenth was a Heap of Gems The fourteenth was a Fire without Smoke
And queen Trishala said that the dreams entered through her mouth into her belly....
And not only did the news of these fourteen dreams go out to the subjects of King Siddhartha and queen Trishala....

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But it also reached the ears of Nature :
It made earth dance with joy ! It filled the fields with bright green laughter !
Everywhere excited birds did not know whether to sit on branches and sing at the top of their voices; or to fly across the blue air, cutting it with the flapping of merry wings !
The sky looked lovingly over the palace with millions of stars that are the eyes of the sky; and their crystal beams pierced through the palacetop and reached, through the roof, the bed-chamber in which the queen was resting on a soft silken bed.
And the clouds floated over the kingdom like milch-cows with udders heavy with milk. They rained lovely showers which fed the harvests earth was getting ready for the kingdom.
But the most wonderful thing that happened was the way in which, even without being asked, other kings from other kingdoms arrived to bend before his throne and offer him homage saying:
"We have heard the glad tidings and have come all the way from our distant kingdoms to offer our affectionate blessings to the babe who is about to arrive.
Something tells us he is going to rule, some day, not over kingdoms of the kind kings we rule, but over the most precious Kingdom of kingdoms. : the human heart.
The hearts of millions and millions, and for ages and ages ! since he himself has come out of

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161 ages and ages 10 mark a new Golden Age for all alike on earth.
The kings who had come from a-far seemed to be under some spell which had brought them to king Siddhartha's kingdom....
Their eyes were filled with light while they knelt before him in deep humility.
There lived in Siddhartha's kingdom an astrologer, a learned seer who knew the stars by heart; when he talked of the planets you thought he was their neighbour.
The king sent a palanquin to fetch him to the palace.
And the astrologer arrived with his long redcloth-covered book of starry arithmetic : which is to say that he could count the stars on his fingertips the instant he looked into the pages of the book; and, along with the stars, he counted the destinies of men which those stars worked out.
Said the king : "We have great faith in your calculations ! Do tell us something about the babe in the womb of the royal mother."
The astrologer put his finger on the seventh page of the book and read without stopping at any word : "The babe will be a boy; yet he will not be a human creature !''
Those who heard this were shocked "What !" exclaimed the king. "What do you mean ? not be a human creature ?''
Did the astrologer suggest he would be a creature of the jungle ?

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" O King ! he who is about to come will be a god, a god in every sense of the word ! He who is about to come into the world is the Lord of Bounty, Vardhamana, for whom it has been waiting for a long long time"
The babe within the womb heard what the astrologer said. He did not move inside, since he did not wish to disturb his mother; he did not want to trouble her, moving from side to side in the womb. He lay still, very still for one hour, two hours, three hours, and then, the queen, who waited anxiously for her babe to stir inside, began to get nervous. She thought the babe was dead. She sobbed loudly; the king sobbed, too; and, with them, sobbed Nandivardhan, the prince; and Sudarshana, the princess. The rumour spread like wild fire; and the whole kingdom sobbed along with the royal family. Even Nature sobbed-she who had, only a while ago, shown her joy through birds that started singing; and fields which laughed a lavish green laughter; and stars which peeped through the palace .-roof to see the queen resting on a soft silken bed; and clouds which poured and poured and fed the harvests when they heard the news of the fourteen dreams which had entered the queen who was shortly going to be a mother. .: The babe inside the womb saw clearly the picture of the world since he was a divine babe. He saw the sky and the ocean and the earth; he knew every star and grain of sand by heart. He

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1.81
measured the length and the breadth of the kingdom over which his father, the king, ruled.
He measured the heart of his mother, the queen; and knew that it was sad because she thought he was dead inside her; all because he lay utterly still, holding his breath so that she should not be troubled in the womb.
But it all turned out to be otherwise. "I must tickle her a little so that she knows I am quite alive !" the babe thought to himself So he tickled one corner of her womb with his tiny finger.
The queen's face flushed with the dawn of hope : "It lives ! it lives !" she said with excitement ! And the king took up the queen's words with equal excitement and shouted "It lives! it lives !" and these two words were taken up by the prince and the princess; and then by the king's retinue of servants; and within a little while, by the subjects of the entire Kingdom..
The fields which had begun to fade, had once again turned green with harvests. The sky put on a robe of such blueness as it had never worn before! The ocean leaped and crashed with wild joy and its waves clapped their hands and shouted to the hills : "It lives! It lives!” The winds blew across the palace top and whistled “It lives! It lives !"
But nobody and nothing knew the truth. The babe in the womb quietly thought to himself; “The whole world lives, but it does not know it lives in me !"

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[91
And then the babe who was a golden boy whispered to his mother, the queen : "Mother! without seeing me you love me so dearly! What would you do, then, if, after I came into your world and grew up and then left you; father and brother and sister and kingdom, renouncing the world which you all love ? No! I shall not renounce the world until that moment comes when I can say to myself: "I am free to renounce it after I have fulfilled my duty towards you who will soon be bringing me into what men call the world."
The Golden Child was born...
The Golden Master Mahavir had come to reveal Himself to the world of ti.ne and space, in order to spread His message of peace.
There was rejoicing everywhere
Once again the king ordered that his chariot go fetch the astrologer, who arrived once again with his red-covered-book of starry arithmetic.
"Pray, astrologer ! will you tell us what were the fourteen dreams our queen Mother dreamed when the goldon babe came into her body nine. months ago"
And the queen recounted all her fourteen dreams :
(1) Lion : Golden Power. (2) Elephant : Golden Dignity. (3) Bull : Golden capacity to draw the Chariot
of Religion. (4) Lakshmi : Golden Goddess who will spread
prosperity over the world,

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[10] (5) Garland : a chain of fragrant flowers to
adorn a Golden Life about to start for your kingdom and the
world. (6) Full Moon : a ripe and rounded Golden
Motherhood of love for all. (7) Sun : Golden Omniscience which will put
an end to the darkness of ignorance. (8) Big Banner : Golden Eternity of fame and
glory. (9) Round pot : a rounded existence filled to
the brim with the Golden
Nectar of Peace. (10) Lotus Lake : Golden Aloofness from the
world while being in the
midst of it. (11) Ocean : Golden Magnanimity of heart, (12) Flying Chariot : Golden Mission of carrying
the world across vast
distances of existences. (13) Heap of Gems : Golden Virtues without end. (14) Fire without smoke : Golden Fire burning
without smoke inside the heart, lending warmth to the world.
In Short : The fourteen dreams signify the Birth of
the Golden Master, Mahavir.

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A MAHAVIR PARABLE

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A MAHAVIR PARABLE
PART ONE
After initiation Mahavir walked from town to town, covering great distances between dawn and dusk.
Long league on league, without fatigue, The great Mahavir trod In lonely quest of his own self, Another name for God !
Arriving at a certain town He rested for a while : The townsfolk flocked around him, and Drew nectar from his smile.
"'I wish to go to the next town, Pray, tell me how to go, I wish to take the shorter route, The shortest that you know."
The townsfolk said in one accord : "O Sire ! we wish to say : The shorter route is most unsafe, Prefer the longer way.
“Nobody takes the shorter route Since there, along it lies A twining serpent who has twin Volcanic holes for eyes;

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“Holes that are horribly alive With poison-lava red As reddest lightning with a power To strike wayfarers dead !
“That serpent has been there for years, His length is packed with ire, And every time he hisses, he Ejects a jet of fire.
"He is unvanquishable, he Is mighty and supreme. ... Nay, do not take the shorter route, Not even in a dream !"
Mahavir pondered for a while.... In silence absolute He stood, then suddenly exclaimed; “I'll take the shorter route ! "'I have a duty to perform, I hope to walk above The serpent's wrath, the serpent's hate, I hope to teach him love, "I hope to make his venom change To nectar beyond price; I hope to teach him deathless life Through love and secrifice. "I'll teach him truth and soon transform His nature--sure, I will ! So, now you know, I've got to go A duty to fulfil !"

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While townsfolk marvelled at his words, Their hearts were sore and sad, Some thought him over-confident, While others thought him mad.
"Well, Sire ! if you must go the way Others have gone before you, You'll go--but we are sorry for That mother's womb which bore you!" Initiate Mahavir went Brimming with inspiration, To give the serpent, thing of hate, Love's high initiation. The instant that he set his foot Along the route of danger, He heard the serpent hiss and say : “You shall be stricken, Stranger !"
But Mahavir, unruffled, said : "Compassion floods my pores To meet you and to greet you, since I am a friend of yours." The serpent hissed a twisted flame, His eyes went rolling red: "You are a stranger, you are not A friend of mine....” he said.
"Go back to there from where you came, Your presence drives me mad. To linger longer here is death: I've nothing more to add.

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Mahavir did not turn a hair: "I'm not afraid of doom ! You said: to linger longer here Is death-but death for whom?''
The serpent overwrought and taut Struck at his foot to slay him. Mahavir was a game of God, The serpent could not play him!
Thrice did the serpent strike his foot, Black venom in his bite; The wounds began to gush with blood, Not red-but crystal white.
Since it was sacred milk that flowed Within his veins, and not Mere ordinary mortal blood As the blind serpent thought.

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PART TWO
Before the Lord the serpent's pride Began to cringe and crouch A cataract of nectar poured Into his poison-pouch.
Nay, he began to be convinced, Though men might deem it cdd ! - That he, whom he had bitten, was A veritable god !
A god no creature and no thing In all the world could hurt, And, least of all, and least of all, A serpent's poison-spurt.
The serpent slowly felt his blood Turning both sweet and strange, While yieiding venom he received Rare nectar in exchange.
Nahavir stood most image-like Before the serpent's eyes That gradually seemed to grow Compassionate and wise.
The serpent said : “You are a god With whom I tried, in vain, To try my strength; but now, I swear. I'll never try again !

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"I thought I was a giant whom
Nobody dare defeat,
But you, O Lord! have crushed my power And shattered my conceit.
"Your presence is the presence of A being thrice divine :
You are no stranger, you are not, But a true friend of mine!
"Since, canceling all hate, you have Awakened love within
This callous serpent-length of me : Dark synonym for sin.
"Sweet Friend you have decided to Transform me and unfold
Before me my forgotten past, My myriad births of old."
The serpent sobbed in burning shame And sighed in deep regret.
Then, for the first time in his life, His serpent eyes were wet,
Were wet with sad repentant tears Which made Mahavir say:
"Repentant tears are holy tears That wash all sins away.

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[19] "Now let me tell you once for all, It never is too late To launch upon a life of truth And change the course of fate." .
The serpent said : Forgive me, Sire ! For my uncouth behaviour : Be by my side, you are my guide, You are my only saviour !"
Mahavir placed his quiet palm Upon the serpent's hood Assuring him, in simple words, His life was changed for good !
"Your life has changed and you shall soon Take heaven itself by storm. Know that you are some future sage In this, your present form.
“And this, your serpent form, shall pass After being bled and tortured.... Yet, every wound you bear shall be A ripe fruit in God's orchard !"
And now the serpent thought it time To purify his soul : Straightway, he sped and hid his head Inside his serpent-hole.

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He hid his head, he hid his hood In utter grief, and swore That he would hate, that he would hurt, That he would bite no more !
Outside the hole the serpent stretched His serpent length for good Inside that hole in utter dark He hid both head and hood.
Since he, the serpent, had, by now Decided to remain Ascetic-wise, nor ever use His filthy fangs again !
Mahavir quietly remarked : "Receiving heavenly grace Soon, very soon, the serpent shall With God come face to face.
But he shall have to pay the price Of pain, before he does, About him, lo! already I Can hear sweet angels buzz.
I hear sweet angels buzz with joy Since the divine Protector Has blessed him and transformed his gall To nothing short of nectar."
DO

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PART THREE
The townsfolk watched the distant scene With hushed abated breath And marvelled at the Stranger who Was unafraid of death,
Of certain death awaiting him Along the shorter route. They saw the way the Stranger met The challenge of the brute;
That serpent who, for years, had slain Poor travellers who took That selfsame route; had slain them with His fiery serpent look !
But in the Stranger's case they saw The serpent, fuming wild, Strike at his feet and while he did, That Stranyer only smiled !
Seeing the light upon his face, The splendour in his eyes, They gathered that he was a god Come down from paradise
To serve the earth and save the earth From serpent-lust and hate : Some whispered : "He is wonderful !" And other's "He is great !"

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And now they knew the route was safe, So they approached the spot
But, as they did, the Stranger seemed To be a distant dot;
A distant dot against the sky Which paled and disappeared :
The townsfolk clapped their hands in glee And cheered and cheered and cheered !
The serpent with both head and hood Stuck in his serpent-hole,
Lay stretched in penance undisturbed, Displaying self-control.
He did not move, he did not budge, One inch; he did not hiss :
The towns-folk wishpered each to each : "What miracle is this !
They found he could perform no more His deadly feats and tricks.
So they began to strike him with Unfeeling stones and sticks.
The serpent did not budge or stir, He sensed an inward power While sticks continued blow on blow. And stones began to shower.

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They wounded and insulted him, Then left him lying alone. The serpent did not, in distress, So much as even moan.
Calmly he thought, “My wounded form Shall render me divine : Some day my wounds shall burn like lamps To light some holy shrine."
Then quietly he went within The quietness inside His state of penance and of prayer, Then quietly he died.
000

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BHAGWAN MAHAVIR'S IMPOSSIBLE VOW

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A FEW WORDS
This is one of the most celebrated Parables of Bhagwan Mahavir, the last prophet of the religion of the Jains.
Bhagwan Mahavir was a contemporary of the Lord Gautam Buddha who was the younger of the Two.
All such parables possess deep insight and an almost unfathomable depth. One has to read between the events and words they embody, if their inmost significance and meaning are to be captured, even if it be somewhat vaguely.
This parable is unique, one of the most unique among Jain parables. Meditating one-pointedly on it, one awakens the psyche, realising that it is stained richly with the glow of Divinity.
It is, in short, a hint at the human will sublimated to the point of its marriage with the Divine Will.
“The Impossible Vow" deals with its final fulfilment rendering the impossible possible through Vasumati, the Princess, who, after months of unspeakable trial and tribulation. succeeds in attaining liberation crowning her Head of the Nuns of Mahavir's Religious Order.

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BHAGWAN MAHAVIR'S IMPOSSIBLE VOW
So, to Koshambi Town Mahavir came : Hiding, behind a mask of form and name, The naked crying hunger of the Soul To reach a seemingly impossible goal. He heard the simple honest folk remark :
FIRST His eyes resemble torches in the dark.
SECOND He seems a thing of splendour, chaste and fresh.
THIRD There is calm flowering about his flesh.
FOURTH His presence scatters paradisal balm.
FIFTH He seems to bear a world upon his palm Kindled to inward glow....
SIXTH
He seems a friend To lonely roadways winding without end
SEVENTH
Why ! he himself is like a road that runs Across the sky, greeted by moons and suns.

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EIGHTH Why ! he himself is as a sky which spreads Love's angel-canopy above our heads !
NINTH Surely he is the true dividing line Standing between the human and divine.
TENTH Lo ! he has come to save us and uplift Our sinking souls....
ELEVENTH
He seems a heavenly gift Granted to us by centuries of Grace.
TWELFTH We taste ascension when we see his face. Shatanik was a much respected king; The redness of the ruby in his ring Was of his people's laughter, not their blood.. He loved long roadways that he trod; the mud Of his dear earth, his kingdom; and he watched, With all a poet's rapture, heavens blotched With passing clouds; he watched the rising sun Incarnadine horizon-fringes. None Could guage the gladness of his being when He gazed into the lonesome eyes of men In quest of something far-away, above Their little gaze unconsciously in love With Beauty; even though they hardly knew, Shatanik loved the green of grass; the blue

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Vastness of sky; the scintillating spangle Of moon-wooed seas; the seven-tinted bangle Of the rare rainbow round the wrist of space... Mrigavati, his queen, was steeped in grace, Her nature brimmed with bounty; when she smiled She drew the hearts of woman, man and child Who thought she was a being half-divine, Worthy of being installed within a shrine.
When Mahavir arrived, both king and queen Observed : though he was seen he was unseen, A simultaneous Image as of One For whom the light of heaven had begun, He walked for miles and miles and did not speak : His very silence rippled, a unique River of calm inviting all to dip Within its depths in high companionship. Even to gaze upon his form began For multitudes the sense as of one Man, One Singlehood untroubled and unsplit Into the many; lonely Infinite Cancelling all sense of finite.
All who saw Mahavir, felt he was himself the Law Manoeuvring creation; even though He had as yet a long long way to go Ere he could reach the goal. He took a pledge Fire-terrible, sharp as a razor's edge; Mahavir had set out alone to carve

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A destiny of godhead which already Was imaged through his presence. ...
"I will starve" He said, "and yet, my footfalls shall be steady Along this obstinate journey I have chosen... Nothing, in this ephemeral world, shall cozen, No self-persuasion; no compelling force, These feet to alter their decided course. Yea ! I shall starve, by way of discipline, To rouse the drowsed magnificence within. I shall pursue my goal; I shall not tire Of going through the cruel test of fire Which my ordeal is.. I shall not rest Until I have gone through the master-test, Of my resolve.....
Behold ! Mahavir was Even as a listening, illumined pause. Four months had passed; man's calendar stood beaten While dates of passing days began to bleed, Since not one morsel had Mahavir eaten, The Golden Lord born of ascetic breed ! Breathing of abstinence and penance, such As was a fire to extinguish fire. Naught on the earth could break his oath or touch His obstinate heart with undivine desire. Now while he walked he seemed a funeral-pyre Consuming his own body; yet his will Continued all unbroken, rooted deep Like to a tranquil heaven-aspiring hill Vigilant in a world of dreamless sleep. The teeming town, the greatest and the least,

donal

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[ 32 ] With love prepared for him a royal feast Of costliest viands : rice and curds and fruit, Honey and milk and saffron-flavoured sweet; But Mahavir, whose oath was absolute, While, thanking the whole Town, refused to eat. Depression gripped the townsfolk and the town Seemed darkened with a sense of darkening doom. Sobs clove the air; the king walked up and down In his tall tower; the queen was bent with gloom. Koshambi Town lay prostrate at the feet . Of mendicant Mahavir lost in prayer. The townsfolk murmured :
FIRST
Will he never eat ?
SECOND No ! he is under oath....
THIRD
To live on air ?
FOURTH Nobody knows how an ascetic sheathes His mind and blood and body against odds !
FIFTH Perhaps, he needs no food because he breathes Not human breath like ours, but breath of gods !
SIXTH Naught were impossible for such a being Who, even seen by us, escapes our seeing !
SEVENTH A curse is on our Town !
EIGHT
We feel, somehow, Like helpless hope-deserted orphans now.

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Days passed and nights went by of sleep bereft.. Unruffled and alone, Mahavir left Koshambi to continue on his way, Unconscicus of the night and of the day, Unconscious of the dusk and of the dawn, Quest-quiet, shining, solitary soulThe mendicant went on and on and on, And on and on he went towards his goal.
Betwixt twin harmonies of earth and sky, He was convinced that death itself would die Through his ripe realisation....
"I will leave Hunger alone to burn till I receive Dole offered by a princess. Lo ! from now I vow I shall not break a vow Made in the Court of Angels.
And he said:
“That princess shall be beautiful, her head Clean-shaven; fetters round her hands and feet: A slave-girl who has had no food to eat For three entire sobbing days and nights. And when, on my arrival, she invites These hands to stretch in silence for an alms, I will, in revenence, on outspread palms Receive it as from one of angel-clan: Black lentils doled out of a winnowing fan. She must await me, even as a mother

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[ 34 ]
Who has expected me for years and years: One foot across the threshold and the other Inside her darkened cell of lurking fears; Irrevocable oath ! until I meet Such an impossible alms-giver, I shall not eat. The King Shatanik said: "Now will I wear War-armour"-and he said it with a frown: "Since I am hungry to enthuse the air With battle-throb and battle-threat and thud. I'll march for the tenth time on Champa Town With battle rapture ringing in my blood, My banner floated under heaven's wide arch, And this shall be my last and final march!" King Dadhivahan's might could hardly vie With that of king Shatanik, long-acclaimed Unvanquishable. Not afraid to die, He always felt that death was but a lie ! He leaped into the field like some untamed Lion whose battle-roar shattered the sky. Brief was the battle. In unspeakable dread King Dadhivahan, like a coward fled, Deserting battlefield and battle slaughter, Deserting Dharani, his loyal wife, Deserting Vasumati, his dear daughter: King Dadhivahan fled to save his life ! A camel-driver watched them from a-far And to himself he muttered: “Very soon They shall be mine. How beautiful they are ! The queen is a ripe-risen desert-mool, The princess, a raw-ripened desert star !

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[35]
Then, in his flesh moulded of desert-dust, Naked and hot with glare. callous and cruel, Awakened what impossible monster-lust Self-conflagrating! he was even as fuel Kindled to flames, each flame a demon's tongue Leaping to lick their beauty out of shape. The camel-driver said: “Why ! both are young !" His eyes turned mouths prepared to glut and rape. He told them “I will help you to escape.... Come, ride upon my virgin camel's back; Leaving this town let us depart in haste, We'll ride all night until the crimson crack Of the next day. We have no time to waste. Tomorrow waits to offer you a taste Of desert hospitality and fare, The safety of the desert, honest-bare Which, by your wondrous beauty, shall be graced; Your breath shall scent the lonely desert-air And every grain of desert-sand grow sweet Trodden but once by your angelic feet."
The queen, creature of chastity and pride, Knew death alone was now her surety. She had already passed away inside Her body: death had stood security. And, of a sudden, she collapsed and died. The heavens knew it was not suicide, But sheer corollary of purity,

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[ 36 )
The princess, lambent as a precious pearl, Rode on the camel's back, with naught to say: The camel-driver's brain was in a whirl; He muttered: "I will sell this lovely girl To some rich merchant who may come my way." The camel journeyed league on yawning league, Without thə slightest feeling of fatigue. The princess, with deep anguish overcome, Sat on its back, an image strange and dumb, As in a vacuum, unmoved, unstirred, Listless and far-away, without a word. The day dawned with a sense of aftermath Following a night of orgiac revelry In the mind's hell, old hall of devilry. The driver all along the journey sat Listening to his own heart go pit-a-pat. As though thrice hideous demons danced within it Intensifying torture every minute. He heard wild voices mock throughtout the night: "Rascal ! it serves you right, it serves you right!" The day dawned with a sense of aftermath For the crude camel-driver.
"We have come !" He said to her: "Here is the royal path" Then, in his heart, the thought began to stir: "The time has come for me to part from her, To sell her beauty for a tidy sum. It should be very simple, since I know, This is the road by which rich merchants come
and go.....

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[ 37 ]
Then, soon appeared a merchant who was known For fairness and for justice and for truth. The driver, in true auctioneering tone, Shouted: "Behold! her beauty and her youth Are waiting to become your very own ! Purchase her, brother Merchant ! she is worth The wealth of twenty Kuberas on earth !"
The merchant bought her for a princely price And led her home. Young Vasumati knew The merchant's heart was inncocent of vice, Since every word he spoke rang scripture-true. "Fear not! I am your father; lay your trust In me who shall protect your life with care; You must not ever doubt me ! Nay! you must Remember I shall treat you like a prayer Offered in grateful thanks to God above Who knows I love you with paternal love."
"I have brought home a gem of purest water" He said to Moola, his devoted wife Childless for years. "I have brought home
a daughter Who will, with meekness, serve you all your life. You must be kind to her; you must look after This lovely maiden with unceasing care; Then life for us shall be as running laughter, Our house shall change into a House of Prayer. She bears nobility in form and feature, She seems of extraordinary birth.

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[ 38 ]
Surely she is no ordinary creature But some angelic spirit come to earth.
Days passed, and with the days, in Moola's breast Grew a great jealousy all unexpressed, Which, unsuspected, lengthened, wide-awake, Slowly into a sneaking, slimy snake, Stark venom dripping from its pointed fangs A deadly mood in her had come to stay Consuming her with hate which spread a heat Through rib and flesh....
One day she saw a sight Which roused her snake of jealousy to meet Its vital moment for a fatal bite. She saw the maiden wash her husband's feet With such fond love as she had never known. ''So now", she said, "the drama is complete Leaving in me no room to doubt my doubt. My poison-snake shall gnaw her, limb and bone: The play is done; the lights must be put out !""
One morning, when the merchant left the house On business and went into the city, Moola, with vengeance burning on her brows, Sent for a barber, and devoid of pity, Wrathful decision in her tone, she said: "Dry up that flowing cataract of hair, And with your favourite razor shave her head, Yea! every inch of it-and leave it bare !"

Page #52

[ 39 ] The barber did his job and went away, And then the girl, who offered no resistance, Was flogged and thrashed without the least delay, Then, dragged away, a solitary distance Where, in a ruin-rife deserted room, She was immured to languish in its gloom. It must be kept a secret unrevealed; The servunt knew-but then, their lips were sealed.
The merchant soon returned and found her missing: "Where is our daughter ?"'
"She is lost, I fear! Who could have dreamed that she would
disappear?" Replied the wife, a serpent in her hissing The sound of which her ears alone could hear. "Lost" cried the merchant cracking like a rock Beneath some devastating thunder-shock. And then he wandered here, and wandered there Looking for her : "Where have you gone ?
O where ? Pearl of my life ! my child ! my precious one ! Nobody answered to relieve his sorrowToday turned yesterday; each morrow's sun Measured, sun after sun, tomorrow on tomorrow,
Mahavir walked, stern stranger to desire, With but his shadow as a co-wayfarer... At every step he seemed to walk thought fire, Of all fire-bearers, loneliest fire-bearer.

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[ 40 ]
Nature pulsated while she saw him pass Along the winding road : withdrawn, alone. He seemed to her a many-mirrored glass Catching each image of her, form and tone, Transforming the soft greenness of the grass To greenness as no grass had even known; The blueness of all heaven to such blue As though Divinity sat looking through "We hail thee”, twittered birds upon their boughs “Thou art a Saviour !" whispered winds and trees, While bald grey boulders all along the way Declared: "He holds the power to rouse Such living ecstasy in stone and clay As grow from more to more and comes to stay !" Wide wayside-ricefields chanted: “If you please, A Master with god-splendour on his brows Renders our harvest richer by degrees !"
Soon he arrived and stood before a house Dilapidated, ruin-ravaged, dead: “My oath awaits fulfilment here", he said,
On the dim wall of a half-kindled room He noticed a young shadow move about; The house, it wore the aspect of a tomb, The air around it seemed a strangled shout; A door unbolted, creaked and opened wide, Revealing someone languishing inside, Mahavir thought: “At last, beyond a doubt,

Page #54

[41]
The Instant hath arrived for me-and now I shall fulfil my most impossible Vow ! My days of fast are done". Mahavir said: Each detail stood before him There he was The Masterpiece to meet a Holy Cause: A princess more than beautiful; her head Clean-shaven; fetters round her hands and feet, A slave-girl who had had no food to eat For three entire sobbing nights and days* Where is the end to the Lord's dark
inscrutable ways ?' Black lentil-grain spread on a winnowing fan; She seemed true nember of some angel-clan Who had awaited him for years and years; One foot across the threshold, and another Inside the room that gloom was out to smother! A room ? a lonely cell of lurking fears ! Mahavir said : "Come hither, little Mother ! Deal me a dole of lentils on these palms That have been waiting to receive an alms Only your hands can grant me.." Streams of tears Flowed from her eyes while she, before him, stood, Stirred at the being's core; and had begun To look on every man as on a son. The fetters round her hands and feet began To slip and fall and crumble. Heaven ran Towards her with high ecstasy untold And, suddenly, wild chants of angels showered The air with notes dropping like liquid gold Out of their radiant throats: all godhood flowered From end to of sky !

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[ 42 ]
THROUGH MARTYRDOM OF CRYING FLESH THE SPIRIT WALKETH FREE!
The princess, turned a slave-girl, slowly passed Into a shining saint in years to come: While Mahavir himself became a vast Eternity inside eternity Helping, in future, faltering feet to climb Darkling ascents of ignorance and time,
Here ends the parable
of The Impossible Vow.

Page #56

A DROP OF HONEY

Page #57

Page #58

A DROP OF HONEY
A certain man was walking through a jungle dark and grim, A swarthy elephant began to follow, follow him. And, off and on he trumpeted while rushing like a gale....
The man began to run and run Until the setting of the sun
His heart beat fast and faster !
He knew a huge disaster
Was obstinately following and following his trail.. The man by now was out of breath,
He felt his heart would fail!
The thought of sure approaching death had made him deadly pale!
At last he found a banyan tree and climbed it in a wink,
He had barely time to think!
The elephant that followed him with wild
Both restless and defiant,
A veritable giant

excitement drunk,

Page #59

[ 46 ] Decided with his pliant Free undefeated trunk, To coil and twine and twist and tease, The banyan tree, the Tree of trees, And pull it down with royal ease, Yea! from its very root! Then, without hesitation, crush the pigmy
underfoot ! The man looked down and saw a well; and
in the well he saw A serpent of tremendous length, A serpent of stupendous strength. And saw saliva slip and drip out of its open jaw. It seemed to him, from where it hung, That it was not so very young, He saw the flickers of its tongue And shook with dreadful awe! Death seemed to say : your time has come to
pay the final price!You hardly guessed that all your life I followed on your track !"
Lo! when he turned an upward gaze He fell into a sort of daze, Upon the branch, on which he hung, he saw a
pair of mice.

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[47]
One mouse was white as white can be, the
other one was black : They sat together unconcerned
and nimbled at the branch, Nibbled and gnawed; quite overawed The poor man held his breath! His heart-beats almost in a swoon;
his face began to blanch, He knew the time had come for him
to meet a tragic death ! When, suddenly, his eyes beheld a honey hive
on top From which a drop of honey was almost about
to drop. Forgetting all about his plight (nobody can
believe it) With open mouth he waited, and he waited to
receive it.
Just at that crucial moment came an angel
from the sky, Came in a golden chariot; came down from
very high; "Step in", the angel said : "I come to see you
do not die !"

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[ 48 ]
The man replied: "Sweet Angel! why are you in such a haste? Can you not see the honey hive perched right upon the top? Before I go with you I do so want to catch the taste That very very very small, alluring honey drop Almost about to fall into my mouth, a honey drop I hardly wish to waste !,"

Page #62

PARABLE OF THE CRYSTAL CLOTH

Page #63

Page #64

PARABLE OF THE CRYSTAL CLOTH
SEQUENCE ONE
The Curtain is still unlifted. The auditorium is darkened to the clang of the gong, deep-voiced and rosonant, leaving behind vibrations of sound lingering and gradually fading out. In the darkness we hear :
A DEEP VOICE
I am the Ancient Interpretor, an Invisible Sutradhar who delves into the mystery of the unborn.
I am in touch with the thoughts of every babe nestling in its mother's womb. I hear its thoughts distinctly, since I am a State of Listening combined with a State of Voice supported by total Silence, the highest speech in creation, In the beginning was the Word, the Soundbut before the Beginning began by the Word, the Sound, there was deep absolute Silence ! (gong is struck )

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[52]
I am created out of the divine stuff of bodilessness. Now, listen ! this day I have the task of interpreting the shining thoughts of Infant Mahavir who, at daybreak completed seven months of existence in the womb of his Mother : Woman of Destiny ! I overheard those shining thoughts which almost blinded my Listening!
(gong is struck ) These were thoughts ; (sound of flute which continues very faintly behind the entire speech of the Infant in the Womb)
I must lie still and unstirring. I shall lie still, unstirring : like to a pebble at the bottom of a deep deep well; like to a pearl inside an oyster at the bottom of a deep deep ocean; like to an egg inside a nest which, to the unborn bird, must seem deep, deep, deep, I shall lie still and unstirring, like to a yogi throned at the bottom of deep

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( 53 )
deep contemplation, without a twitch, encircled by ring within ring within ring of tranqulity.
(and now starts the tinkling sound of temple bells......... )
The Curtain rises, revealing on the stage, right in the centre, a beautiful Mother caught in a patch of warm glow thrown on to her by a shaft of light suddenly merging out of the darkness.
MOTHER ( gradually turning pale )
What has befallen ? the inside hath
all of a sudden stopped stirring ! I fear it is dead, it is dead! or-is my
judgment, being human, an erring Judgment, a false preconception ? Sweet
Lord of the Heavens ! be near me ! I need you ! I call to you out of the
deep deep heart : Can you hear me ! If you can not, confess you are deaf ! if
you can, you are dumb ! o speak to me! tell me, why is my baby

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( 54 )
so still In the dark of my womb ? is its little
life done, to fulfil Some mood of your firmament, some dark
demand of your Will ? If that be 'so, say ! do you create to destroy ? Are you nourished from moment to moment
on human grief ? Does it lend you high satisfaction to
fracture our joy, Fragment us without any ruth?
Does it bring you relief ? ( the resonance of the tanpuras stops... Dead silence follows )
DEEP VOICE (of the Ancient Interpreter) The infant's thoughts begin to speak again : Listen!
c
!
( the flute starts its music ---soft and almost in-audible, but heart-haunting in the extreme )
The delicate Bearer of me-my Beautiful Mother-has totally misunderstood my intention of sparing her the least small

Page #68

[55] inconvenience or discomfort; it was only to save her from the least small torture that I had decided to lie still and unstirring inside her.
(the gong resounds ) On this blind ephemeral earth stillness is not understood, since it has not as yet come into its own. The earth-born are nervous of Immobility which is angelic, Silence which is heavenly. They do not know as yet that rootedness is true speed !
(the gong resounds )
(the flute emerges with its music out of the after-vibration of the gong) She, in whom I remain so still and unstirring, imagines I am dead! I am not dead; since I was never born, Mother of me ! When I come out of you you will call it birth. But all birth, as all death, is but hypnotic suggestion. Nobody is born, nobody dies.. All that is created by the Divine is necessarily divine. All that is created by the Master of the Heavens

Page #69

( 56 ) is created out of heavenly stuff, Because of limited mortal vision, life appears mutable-but it is not ! There is but change, and, even what vision names change, is only the kaleidoscope of the Changeless indulging, for the sake of humans, in ever-shifting patterns to cancel what, to them, might have seemed unbearable monotony.
(the tanpuras resound to the sound of the gong the stage is darkened; a tinkle of bells floats across the stage, at it were, in a series of ascending notes )
DEEP VOICE (of the Ancient Interpreter )
What was that I heard just now ? a little streak of laughter in the womb ! Listen! His thoughts begin to speak once more !
(the flute begins its soft music)
If only humans knew the passionate variety divine Monotony is !
( the gong rosounds ) No, Mother of me ! No! you shall not suffer my stillness any longer.

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[571
You share the Motherhood with the mothers of seers and sages in the past; the present; the future. No, no, no ! I am not dead. I shall move the tip of my little finger inside the womb to re-assure you I am warm and alive.
I did not wish to do even that, lest the nail of my little finger should leave a scratch on some tissues inside your belly that has borne me for seven months; since such a scratch might easily turn into a faint line on my palma line of guilt to remind me of the scratch left in you!
(The light returns on the stage flooding it with a warm orange glow. We see the beautiful Mother again This time she is beaming all over with intense joy. )
MOTHER Lord of the Heavens ! you are there ! you have
proved to the hilt you are there ! I have prayed to you over and over again;
you have heard my prayer !

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[58] Indeed, you have heard my prayer, you
- have heard, you have heard, you have
heard ! My womb is no charnel-house but a House
of Life since my infant hath stirred ! (We now find beside the Mother, her. husband Siddharth; her eldest son, Nandi Vardhan; and her daughter, Sudarshana who share the joy of the Bearer of One who was never born and shall never die)
SIDDHARTH What miracle is this !
NANDI VARDHAN Mother ! what miracle is this?
SUDARSHANA What miracle is this, Mother ?
SIDDHARTH You appear as though the blush of some eternal springtide had suddenly entered your blood and bones!
NANDI VARDHAN You appear as though a tide had swept a pearl beyond price from an ocean of peace and laid it as offering at your feet !

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( 59 )
SUDARSHANA You appear as though you had caught. a glimpse of the Lord Himself who creates bloom and pearl, springtide and ocean....
MOTHER ( ecstatically ) Do I only appear all you describe ? No ! no! no ! I am....I am....I am !!!
(gong is struck )
TOGETHER What?
MOTHER I am that I am.
(chorus of voices hum a sacred melody which seems to come out of the heavens The stage now grows pitch dark )
DEEP VOICE I am that I am,
ANOTHER DEEP VOICE An Al Haq!
ANOTHER DEEP VOICE Aham Brahma Asmi !
YET ANOTHER DEEP VOICE It is the future Lord Mahavir in the womb who prompted the Mother to say : I am that I am! I am that I am !
(the stage is lit up)

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[ 60
MOTHER ( seeming to listen, spellbound, to the
Infant inside ) (rapturously) Do you know what he is saying ? do you know what my son is saying ?
SIDDHARTH Your son ?
MOTHER Our son.
SUDARSHANA But Mother ! how do you know it is a son and not a daughter.
NANDI VARDHAN How do you know it is not a sister but a brother who is coming to meet me ?
MOTHER I have seen him. He is clearer to me than daylight ever was ! I see his form; his features; the light of the universe is in his face Listen ! he is saying something; let me tell you what he is saying (recorded speech on tape) ( the Mother sits while tanpuras resound) They love me with love before which the ocean shrinks to a drop; and a firmament of planets to a mere glowwormthrob. And such love they bear for me even before they have seen me. Would not their

Page #74

[61]
sorrow be as immeasurable as their love when, after I am born and grow old enough to conduct my own so-called earthly life, I may choose to renounce it! renounce a world of pathetic re-lationships; its multi-painted play of
illusions; yet, I shall spare my parents the agony of separation from me.
I hereby swear I shall not renounce the world during their lifetime.
(the Mother bursts into hysterical laughter. Siddharth, Nandi Vardhan and Sudarshana join in the laughter)
(there is now a brief mingling of the sound of cymbal, temple bells, gong, flute and tanpuras vibrating in the darkness on the stage; then, deep stillness suddenly shot through with the groans of the Mother in travail: deep stillness for a while, and, then, a sudden cry of the babe who is born.
The light comes back to the stage, revealing a cradle being rocked by the Mother surrounded by neighbours who bring all sorts of gifts to celebrate the occasion of extreme joy in the home which has, without its knowing, received the future Master, the future LORD MAHAVIR)

5

Page #75

[ 62 ]
ANGEL VOICES CROON A LULLABY
CRADLE SONG For our sake He ever keeps Wide-awake And never sleeps. He has broken the bars Of body and mind, Time's bɔon to mankind; His eyes-they are stars That never shall dim, He has come without scars On body and limb, Of birth after birth Upon earth after earth! Just look at his eyes, You will soon realize That the light of the skies Is cradled in Him Who is cradled now, With heaven on his brow, And who, for our sake, For ever keeps Wide-awake And never sleeps.
The Commentator appears before the front curtain and speaks to the audience,

Page #76

[631
COMMENTATOR
Time is a traveler who will not wait, At no point did it ever come to stay; Mahavir had completed twenty-eight Earth-years of life; His parents passed away After beholding in his flowering youth, Eternal beauty and eternal truth.
Parents who thirsted for the Light of God And sought it unfatigued, day after day; High contemplation was the path they trod; On either side of it the blinding play Of kindled lights proclaiming that One Light: Mahavir's parents vanished out of sight Into his Vision where, enthroned they sat, Crowned with what emperorship of Inwardness Mahavir secretly kept gazing at,
While, outwardly, beyond all mortal guess, He had already won the game of chess Life plays with death; and, with the final pawn, Death was defeated, darkness was withdrawn. (stage is darkened. Voice continues to drums and dundubhi)
Mahavir stood before his elder brother And said give me permission to depart, I have fulfilled the oath I gave to mother While yet within her womb, a cradled babe, A solitary image in her heart;
This being now hath turned an astralabe To measure summits earth may not conceive, Summits undrenched by hues of dawn and eve Making time possible. Behold, I climb

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[ 64 ]
An inward staircase to the zenith-point, A challenge to all sense of space and time.... I feel myself all ancestors conjoint In one last fire-embrace; I burn, I glow !Forgive me, noble brother ! Let me go. (the curtain rises revealing Nandi Vardhan and Mahavir)
NANDI VARDHAN Nay, do not go ! these eyes of ours are wet With tears as fresh as rain but lately poured From clouds of grief; the wounds are bleeding
yet, Wide-open, all unstemmed, as though a
sword Had gashed our hearts that hardly can
forget The absence of dear parents we adored, Worshipped and loved a lifetime. Do not go, Nay, do not go until another year Goes by-and, may that year be very slow In going. Do your hear ?
MAHAVIR
Indeed! I hear And promise to fulfil your wish. I'll stay Until another year has ebbed away!
( the stage grows dark- the Voice of the commentator is heard )
COMMENTATOR 'The seasons follow fast; the spring arrives With birds and bowers and flowers, with bees
and hives;

bal

Page #78

[65] The summer follows nakedly to claim Earth, bosom-bared, in its embrace of flame; The rainy season lavishly succeeds Conscious of cracked earth and expectant
seeds; And then, earth starts to warm up at
root-bottom Into fruit-miracles performed by autumn; And last, not least, the winter comes with snow And inexhaustible solitude, as though It said ! “The year has gone. Now let me go"!
( Conches sound everywhere)
SEQUENCE TWO
(in front of the curtain man with a drum. He beats on it with great gusto and announces at the top of his voice )
MAN WITH DRUM
The Day of days has arrived-the great Day-the Divine Moment of Renunciation which marks the Moment of Union. (drum beats) The Moment has come for angels to receive new angelhood through the renunciation of one Man embodying godhead; Of one Man who is about to establish a new order

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[ 66 )
on earth; a new way of Life; a new Vision embracing pebble and planet alike; embracing rootedness and winghood; stillness and movement. Behold !
( The curtain goes up revealing :) SCENE
Mahavir is seated on a simple seat, His back turned towards the audience; He seems to be addressing a crowd of spectators who have come to hear Him, as also to receive alms from Him. The spectators could be cut-outs in plywood set against the backcloth and arranged in a semi-circle; a gauze curtain let down from the ceiling between the cut outs and Mahavir who, on either side of Him, has men with huge rounds vessels on their laps brimmed over with coins Mahavir's hands draw fron time
to time and scatter amidst the expectant congregated crowds. The dead stillness which seems embodied in Mahavir's form, is broken by occasional fits of the voices of multitudes. The stage is dimly lit in violet and green glows rendering the entire scene one placed on a psychic plane.

Page #80

( 67 ) Deep Voice ( Mahavir's Interior
Thought-interpreter ) It is time now to declare the Cosmic Order; To stand on the edge of Stillness and gaze Across the panorama of nights and days, Etched in chaste aether allowing of no border, no boundary line, on any side, To divide Time into false division of moon and sun, Or to humiliate the One Into the Many. It is time now to declare To unawareness it must grow Aware !
VOICES OF THE CROWDS
He is a divine cloud showering coins of gold amidst us!
He smells of eternity! what heavenly perfume is this which drenches the air around ?
There is an aura of molten orange-gold about his head which will soon cease to wear the royal crown!
His head will now be bared to the naked heavens which crown him King among angels !

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[68]
Hush ! let us listen to a Voice from the firmament. It is the Voice of Indra commanding seraphic angels to prepare for Mahavir's Initiation Ceremony !
INDRA'S VOICE
Get the Palanquin ready-the Chandra Prabha Palanquin, illumined with a thousand moons !
SERAPHS
The Chandra Prabha palanquin is of the intangible stuff of blinding silver drawn from the heart-core of planets. It is waiting patiently to bear the weight of pure Spirit
It is waiting impatiently to bear the Golden Lord Mahavir to the Gnyath Khanda Gardens !
(the curtain comes down, royal music starts; drums beat announcing the departure of Mahavir from the kingdom which to Him ceases to have any significance whatsoever. A procession appears before the curtain, preceded by players on fifes and drums.
For the last time we see Mahavir in royal robes : white raiment, blinding

Page #82

[69] ornaments. On either side beautiful maidens wave chaamars about Him seated inside the Palanquin, calm and immobile as an Idol.
Angels with wings bear the Palanquin to the Gnyath Khanda Gardens,
( The stage dims: the curtain goes up again )
MAHAVIR
Take back these trappings of crown and robe and ornament. Bareness now seeks bareness; void calls out to void ! No trappings of jewelry or raiment ever had any place in the Moment of Union : nakedness of earth cries out to nakedness of sky!
A GARDEN
MAHAVIR
The calendar calculates this body of me and tells the world I am now thirty years of age. But the soul has no calendar, no calculation, no age. Even to say that the soul is ageless involves a conception of age.

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[ 70 ]
There is but Oneness beyond time, place and space; and it is a Void that stirs not; a Void which has swallowed stillness which has swallowed itself. I am that Void.
But who may he be who comes hither bearing a sheet of crystal glow in his hands?
(A big cloud passes overhead, a sheet of lightning flashes across the air and the cloud vanishes leaving behind a lavender-hued light on the stage)
INDRA (appears with a sheet of crystal-a cloth which seems woven of moon-beams)
I am Indra....
Behold; this cloth of crystalline glow have I brought to cover up and grow part of Your shining nakedness, itself the raiment
angels wear when things are born.
VOICE (from somewhere)
I am as naked as a gem
And as a cloud or tree :
When things are born the angels wear
This nakedness of me.

(INDRA goes out)

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[71]
MAHAVIR And now I am alone. With nobody to call my own : The whole world trembles on the verge of me And shivers to an Echo in the distance : Existence lo ! hath passed beyond Existence !
( the stage grows dark. Dundhubhis blare )
IN THE HOUSE OF SOM
SOM'S WIFE You are the laziest creature Time ever conceived and gave birth to..
SOM
Woman! there is a song which comes back to me; a song I heard when my mother gave birth to me; at least, a song I heard when I was old enough to receive it with my ears turned sensitive to notes of music and words of
poets,
SOM'S WIFE Were you ever sensitive ? was any pore or cell of your body ever ever sensitive ?

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[72]
SOM (sings, striking a pose)
I am lazy, ever lazy
And the world thinks I am crazy;
I am lazy like the clouds, I am lazy like the flowers.
I do nothing which is something, I do something which is nothing
For hours and hours and hours,
For hours and hours and hours!
I am lazy, ever lazy
And the world believes I'm crazy!
I am lazy like the far
Unreachable evening star;
I am lazy, ever lazy
Like the lily and the daisy;
I am lazy like a stone
That is glad to lie alone,
Without a sense of duty and without a
sense of strife,
There is laziness in beauty, yea! and
laziness is life!
Why should, at all I roam
When I have a happy home
Even though the woman of my house, most beautiful and young,

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[73]
Occasionally proves she has a cactus
for a tongue ?
(laughs heartily) I am lazy, ever lazy And the world thinks I am crazy!
SOM'S WIFE This is not the time for song or jest, my husband! The Great Lord Mahavir has been granting dower upon dower upon dower to the people of the town; only you, born under evil planets....
SOM What! evil planets ? I shan't have that! my planets were kind when I made you my wife ! (laughs again)
SOM'S WIFE What are your planets today if not evil, since you alone in the whole town have been left without a gift received at his sacred hands? Listen!
(Som suddenly grows serious ) Even to receive nothing from Him would prove a precious boon; only go and

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( 741
spread your palms before Him, the very act of spreading your palms before the Lord Mahavir shall bring you blessing. Go! go! go! I say-go!!!
SOM I will go, Woman! something is happening inside me. I know the Lord will grant me a gift; as you say, it would still be a sacred gift if He granted me nothing ! (he rushes out )
MAHAVIR (on a lonely path edged with
briar shrubs ) What is creation ? a myth.... Nothing exists but non-existence beyond all existence; the ever-present reaching-point reached at every point of that which was Never and yet is Ever; the reaching point reached at the end of the last figment measured by footfalls treading imaginery distances. The rondure of vacuum, another name for God, for love, for all that is poured into the illusion men call life. Life, through everything, in reality, hungers for some

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[75]
ultimate Nothing. It is on the Path of the Naught I am going towards the goal of Everything. I have come to realise that Touchlessness escapes to take cowardly shelter in all tcuch; Invisibility hides its identity in all visibility; the fragrance of the Eternal in the petty little perfumes of the ephemeral. I am the ultimate Signature in the scroll of the destiny of men; the last irrevocable Seal on the document of time.
SOM (who has been following Mahavir) Master !
(Mahavir does not hear)
Master ! (Mahavir still does not hear) Master !
MAHAVIR (turning round discovers Som) And who may you be; and why do you follow me so ?
SOM (saluting him with deep adoration) I am but one shadow of You who are the Light; all men are your shadows: what can they do other than follow, follow you?
MAHAVIR
True Light casts no shadow.

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[76]
SOM
Indeed, my Lord! men are the shadows which cease to be, once they approach you, they cease to exist once they touch even the fringe of the Light you are!
MAHAVIR
What want you of me?
SOM
Lord Mahavir! you have given and given and given to all men; only this unfortunate, this so-called me, remains to be given I know it is never too late to receive a gift from the Divine Lord, since His treasures are inexhaustible.
MAHAVIR
Had you arrived earlier I would have granted a gift to delight your eyes and your hands; precious gems extracted from the
crowns of earthly kings; gold extricated from the bowels of the earth.

SOM
O unfortunate that I am!

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[77]
MAHAVIR
No! no! no! it is never too late.. (he tears the cloth of crystalline glow in two ) This is all I have left to give you. Accept it with humility and faith; half of this cloth I bear on my shoulder and tear in two, to share it with you.
( Som receives it, somewhat gloomily)
Be not disheartened. It carries the perfume of the bareness of my shoulder which is the perfume of renunciation. Take it and go your
way.
And remember, along with it I give you my word that in some early next birth you will ask no other gift of me than the gift of Myself-the Eternal Gift granted by the Light that casts no shadow..
WEAVER'S ROOM The Weaver seated at his loom is delighted to see his friend SOM who enters, half-happy, half-sad.

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[78]
WEAVER Hello ! Brother Som !
SOM Hello, Brother Birju ! has this morning brought you luck ?
WEAVER It has ! it has brought you to me! and you are a friend, one of the rarest friends I have had since childhood. Friendship is luck.
SOM So little of friendship is left now-a-days; and so little of luck, too!
WEAVER No man is a friend even of himself. In fact, every man is his own worst enemy! ( noticing the cloth; the Weaver's
eyes bulge with excitement ) Why man ! what's that glowing on your shoulder ? surely it's not your shoulder that is glowing ! what! what ! my eyes can hardly take the glow in; it is a glow woven of centuries of multi-mated moonbeams !

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[79]
SOM
O.! this ? It Is but a piece of cloth, half of the cloth Lord Mahavir wore on his shoulder.
WEAVER Where's the other half ?
SOM Why! this half is on my shoulder. It's quite simple calculation !
WEAVER (growing ecstatic) Fool! fool! fool!.... Run, run after Him; speed as swift as an arrow to reach Him; even should you arrive at the point of a last breath, running after Him with all the speed you can muster, run after him with the swiftness of lightning, the swiftness of desire; and when you overtake Him, fall at his feet and beg Him on the knees of all your generations of ancestors and on the knees of all the generations yet to come: beg Him to grant you the other half of this half; the bride cannot live without her bridegroomthis half cannot live without the other
half.

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[80]
SOM What are you saying-or rathor, trying to say ? Has something gone wrong with you ?
WEAVER
Everything has gone wrong with youyou are a fool-you are a blind man! You do not know what I am sayingwhat I am trying to say ! Go! and I give you my word that once we have the two halves I shall wed them in such a way as to cancel the truth that they had ever been parted! and when I have united the two, it will cover up the nakedness of our penurv !
SOM I don't still understand.... jesting apart, tell me, Brother Birju ! why are you so keen about this union of the two pieces. How is it going to cover up the nakedness of our penury ?
WEAVER Two pieces become one shall lead to two shares of the sum it shall receive at the

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(81)
hands of bidders in the market; and believe me! the cloth once united, the sum once divided will, even if we be divided, make us both millionaires !
SOM (widening his eyes ) Millionaires ! what! what did you say ? millionaires ? millionaires ?.... ( as though in a trance, he walks for a few seconds and then impulsively rushes out ) (the stage blacks out, the front curtain is
Towered ) ( We see Som running past the front curtain several times as though covering great distance; then, the front curtain rises revealing a single tree of briers, and the shadow of Mahavir on a platform back-stage passing as though on a height. The briers are luminous, they have caught the other half of the cloth which now hangs by a brier)
We notice in the beautiful many-coloured glow on the stage-a band of angels, as though behind a veil which renders them unreal, chant and dance round a brier tree set in the centre of the stage,

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[82]
It is glowing as though with an inward glow. Baffled and breathless, Som stands watching the angels; he is unseen, since he stands outside the stage-space at one corner of the procession, Som is dumbfounded while the song is in progress,
SONG ( of angels round the briar-tree )
This is the moment of ultimate rapture, Final performance of burning Divinity! He is an essence no angel may capture, Inviolate splendour of pristine virginity Wherein our angelhood turns more angelic, He is the peak-point of height upon height; The halo around Him of hues psychadelic Is whirled to a fire-point immaculate white. Lo! even a thought of Him exiles the gloom in us Bountiful esctasy over us showering..., Look at the briers! they have become luminous As though they were proof of a final god-flowering, Clapping our hands we encircle the briers Which have captured the glow-cloth purer than
prayer. We are drenched in His nectars and burned in
His fires Of which his Awareness is all unaware,

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(83.5
( The angels dance round the brier-tree to soft drums, the stage lit with soft psychadelic hues )
Slowly as though stricken with some mystical fear, his heart trembling with nervous joy mixed with strange imaginary premonition, Som approaches the tree and hesitates to touch the cloth, but a Voice speaks :
VOICE Be not disheartened. It carries the perfume of the bareness of my shoulder which is the perfume of renunciation. Take it and go your way, And remember, along with it I give you my word, that in some early next birth, you will ask no other gift of me than the gift of Myself-the eternal gift granted by the Light that casts no shadow. ,
(Som, encouraged by the Voice, approaches closer to the brier-tree and plucks the cloth from it. That very instant, the tree loses its illumination and dims into an insignificant darkness which fades into the darkness of the stage.
Som, now almost like a pale spectre, moves warily along the stage; then, suddenly, bursts into loud laughter at which point we find him once again in the Weaver Birju's house.)

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[ 841
IN THE HOUSE OF THE WEAVER
WEAVER ( examining the cloth ) What !
SOM ( almost hysterically) Yes!
WEAVER Yes ?
SOM
Yes! can't you see?
WEAVER I'm afraid I can't ! I can't see it, but I think I can feel it! I can't see it because it strikes me blind with its excess of glow.
SOM Here ! here! (he brings the cloth close to
his eyes )
WEAVER (sniffing as though he smells a rare perfume ) I can smell it, it bears the perfume of the Spirit-(he almost half-closes his eyes as
in a delirium )
SOM I can see it, you can't !
WEAVER I can smell it - you can't
(they repeat the dialogue while coming closer to each other. The rhythm starts them off on a dance)

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[85]
SONG SOM : I can see it.. WEAVER : I can smell it. SOM : I begin to realise
I can see it with my nose ! WEAVER : I can smell it with my eyes !
( while the song is in progress, the Weaver's Wife stands in the frame of the door and laughs her sides out )
WIFE Why this bubble, why this froth Over just a piece of cloth ?
WEAVER Woman ! you are more than blind!
SOM Queer, the way she is behaving.
WIFE Both of you have lost your mind, You are obviously raving.
(the Wife goes back into a back-room, the dance continues )
(they grow serious now)
SOM What a glow ! O! what a glow! It bears the essence of a jewel On the brow of timeless Time :
WEAVER But, you know, I want to know If such light is kind or cruel !

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( 86 )
SOM Brother ! it is so sublime. And we are so black within, With a growing heap of sin That we are unable quite To receive unsullied light !
WEAVER Birju says that you are right!
( just as he finishes uttering this sentence three Women come on the scene )
( The Weaver, without noticing them, sits at his loom and starts to join the two halves. )
RICH MERCHANT'S WIFE I can't believe my eyes!
MINISTER'S WIFE My eyes can't believe me !
KING'S WIFE My eyes can't believe themselves!
SOM Why, Ladies! what makes you talk so?
WEAVER ( from behind his loom ) Ahal aha! what has befallen you, Ladies ?
RICH MERCHANT'S WIFE We were passing this way when, all of a sudden, without our knowing, we were drawn towards your house, Brother Weaver!.

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[87]
MINISTER'S WIFE We saw a great big glow inside your house which drew us like a magnet,
KING'S WIFE That's not quite true. A sea of glow flowed through us and almost drowned us with unbearable ecstacy.
WEAVER
(leaves his loom and comes forward) Do you feel the glow now?
TOGETHER
No! No! No!
SOM
I don't blame you, Ladies ! you are too close to it to feel it.
WEAVER
Too close to it to see it,
TOGETHER
In fact, we begin to see a growing darkness. Our eyes begin to see a blank. It is darkness, but it is laughing; I can hear it with my eyes.

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[881
(the Weaver's Wife comes in laughing hysterically)
WIFE Sisters ! let me tell you, you have arrived at a mad house. It was a house of sanity until Brother Som brought those three yards of cloth into it ! (she takes the cloth from
the loom and shows it : two halves become one )
TOGETHER ( excited ) Oh! Oh! Oh! Magical visibility of the invisible A miracle of moonbeams caught on a wooden loom? . I will buy it.... I shall buy it..... No, no, no, I must buy it !
WEAVER Lord! has this cloth been woven of threads of intoxication ?
SOM (in a whisper to Birju) Why, they are raving; they seem to be drunk, all three of them!

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[89]
WIFE
(scornfully ) Your company can turn anybody mad!
THE THREE LADIES Will you put that cloth to auction ?
SOM
(just for a joke ) Why not! start bidding!
RICH MERCHANT'S WIFE A thousand suvarnas !
MINISTER'S WIFE Two thousand !
KING'S WIFE
Three thousand !
RICH MERCHANT'S WIFE
Ten thousand !
MINISTER'S WIFE
Twenty thousand !
KING'S WIFE Thirty thousand !
WIFE
(laughs hysterically) Brother Söm! don't forget. Half and half ! half and half!

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1901
WEAVER Thirty thousand ! thirty thousand ! Thirty thousand !
RICH MERCHANT'S WIFE Thirty five thousand.
MINISTER'S WIFE I make it forty!
KING'S WIFE I make it a hundred thousand suvarnas !
SOM
A hundred thousand ! (looks at the cloth with
deep reverence and talks
to it) Dear wonderful wheel of magic ! o precious cloth woven of the threads of all the planets revolving in the firmament ! O unspeakable compassion of the Lord Mahavir ! A hundred thousand suvarnas !
WEAVER You are talking as though your brain had become the market-square of a hundred thousand lunatics !
KING'S WIFE A hundred thousand suvarnas !
SOM ( coolly ) Any higher bid ?

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(91)
( silence ) A hundred thousand ! Once, twice
WEAVER (clinging to the cloth as though to the feet of the Lord)
Are you daft, Brother Som! Do you truly want to exchange this cloth for a hundred thousand yellow coins ? Is your soul jaundiced ? No! no! no ! you shall not sell it !
WIFE OF WEAVER ( mockingly )
He shall sell it! Is this cloth going to feed us by its mere presence in this house; this silly piece of cloth that seems to have come to us to dislocate our home! Sell it ! sell it!
VOICE (from somewhere ) You want to sell that which had kissed the bare shoulder of the Lord ! you want to sell a precious, the most precious of all gifts given by Him?
(A miracle takes place now: the stage grows dark and vaguely we see all the characters transfixed and immobile - they are, as it were, transformed for a while into statues staring at the cloth which has become a blood-red glow )

Page #105

[92] THE VOICE ( continuing )
Look! look! it has turned red; it blushes with shame at the very thought that you have at all thought of bartering it! Bartering it, you will only barter your soul !
(very uncanny music sounds )
You need not barter it for gold coins. Here ! collect them; the Lord Mahavir is showering them to save, not His gift ( showers of gold coins) from humiliation, but your soulyour soul !
(A sudden chorus of sobbing); all the characters kneel before the cloth; complete darkness.... then the spotlight glows on one lone Figure : Mahavir, the Lord, with His hand stretched in blessing. ,
(CURTAIN)

Page #106

GOLDEN WORDS OF BHAGWAN MAHAVIR

Page #107

Page #108

GOLDEN WORDS OF BHAGWAN MAHAVIR
To turn a million soldiers pale And make whole armies yield In shamefullest defeat upon The crowded battlefield, Were hollow for a hero Like you whose only goal Must ever be the conquest of The solitary soul.
Since every moment is sublime, O Gautam! do not waste it: Love spreads a wedding-feast of time, Let your Eternal taste it.
Donating a whole herd of cows, You do but hope in vain, By way of despicable bribe, For spiritual gain; Yet are you more than well aware: True Grace can but begin Within the kingdom of the heart Builded of discipline.
Since every moment is divine, O Gautam ! do not waste it:

Page #109

[96] Each moment is God's cup of wine, Let your Eternal taste it.
There are many sorts of triumph: Proud conquest over pride, Desire and greed and glooms of flesh A lifetime multiplied; And there are countless conquests On earth, both great and small, But the soul's evasive conquest Is the greatest of them all.
Since every moment honey drips, O Gautam ! do not waste it: Each honey-drop awaits your lips, Let your Eternal taste it!
Time stains us with its seasons, With hues which crash and splinter, Life's temporary seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter The tree of life turns yellow, Its leaves grow frail and sere, And one by one begin to fall Only to disappear. Since every moment nectar brims, O Gautam ! do not waste it:

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[97]
Through all the pores of all your limbs, Let your Eternal taste it!
Along the lonely road of life, At every step beset with
Unfeeling briers and pointed stones; What obstacles are met with!
And yet, for all those stones and briers
That meet us everywhere,
Life is a heaven-granted boon Both exquisite and rare!
Since every moment is replete O Gautam! do not waste it: Life's every moment is so sweet, Let your Eternal taste it!
Without our knowing time escapes Through us, and speeds away, The body withers like a tree, The hair turns ashen grey; Without our knowing life escapes Leaving behind desires
In mournful solitary quest
Of hungry funeral-pyres !
Since every moment trickles through, O Gautam! do not waste it:
Each moment is a drop of you, Let your Eternal taste it!

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[198]
The lotus blooms in autumn-time, Unsullied, white and cool; Its virgin loveliness in born Out of a muddy pool. Behold ! it stands aloof, apart In self-security, Thrice self-assured of burgeoned peace And lambent purity.
Since every moment comes to pass, O Gautam! do not waste it; Calch it and brim your empty glass, Let your Eternal taste it.
This body is a vessel On the ocean of existence, Sailing across its wastes of waves It covers lonely distance. The sky has met your voyage With both favour and disfavour. Now that you are about to reach The shore, you must not waver.
Since every moment drips with love, O Gautam ! do not waste it: It has been granted from above, Let your Eternal taste it!

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[99]
In ignorance, a lifetime through, Bearing a heavy load, Unfortunate Wayfarer!
You have trod a lonesome road; Crossways you have encountered And shall encounter yet; While you forget the only road, That road does not forget!
Since every moment is supreme, O Gautam! do not waste it: It bears the essence of a dream, Let your Eternal taste it:

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Page #114
w eareryone