The Story of Śrāvaṇa Kumāra from Kāḷidāsa’s Raghuvamśa
Instead of sharing the story of the pious Śrāvaṇa Kumāra (who spent his life in a hermitage deep inside a forest serving his old, blind parents) from the Vālmīki Rāmāyaṇa, I thought I’d share the version recounted in Kāḷidāsa’s Raghuvamśa. This is from the ninth canto, translated from Sanskrit by Arthur W. Ryder (1914).
“In the beautiful springtime King Daśaratha takes an extended hunting-trip in the forest, during which an accident happens, laden with fate.
“He left his soldiers far behind one day
In the wood, and following where deer-tracks lay,
Came with his weary horse adrip with foam
To river-banks where hermits made their home.
And in the stream he heard the water fill
A jar; he heard it ripple clear and shrill,
And shot an arrow, thinking he had found
A trumpeting elephant, toward the gurgling sound
Such actions are forbidden to a king,
Yet Dasharatha sinned and did this thing;
For even the wise and learned man is minded
To go astray, by selfish passion blinded.
He heard the startling cry, “My father!” rise
Among the reeds; rode up; before his eyes
He saw the jar, the wounded hermit boy:
Remorse transfixed his heart and killed his joy.
He left his horse, this monarch famous far,
Asked him who drooped upon the water-jar
His name, and from the stumbling accents knew
A hermit youth, of lowly birth but true.
The arrow still undrawn, the monarch bore
Him to his parents who, afflicted sore
With blindness, could not see their only son
Dying, and told them what his hand had done.
The murderer then obeyed their sad behest
And drew the fixèd arrow from his breast;
The boy lay dead; the father cursed the king,
With tear-stained hands, to equal suffering.
“In sorrow for your son you too shall die,
An old, old man,” he said, “as sad as I.”
Poor, trodden snake! He used his venomous sting,
Then heard the answer of the guilty king:
“Your curse is half a blessing if I see
The longed-for son who shall be born to me
The scorching fire that sweeps the well-ploughed field,
May burn indeed, but stimulates the yield.
The deed is done; what kindly act can I
Perform who, pitiless, deserve to die?”
“Bring wood,” he begged, “and build a funeral pyre,
That we may seek our son through death by fire.”
The king fulfilled their wish; and while they burned,
In mute, sin-stricken sorrow he returned,
Hiding death’s seed within him, as the sea
Hides magic fire that burns eternally.”
Thus is foreshadowed the birth of Rama, his banishment, and the death of his grief-stricken father.”
______________________________________________________________
If you find value in my work, I hope you consider becoming a patron through Patreon. Hindu Aesthetic requires a lot of time and effort and your support would mean that I can continue bringing you the highest quality content. Link to my Patreon:
