The Yoga Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki ( Volume -3) -2

























The
Yoga Vasishtha
Maharamayana
of Valmiki

The only complete English translation is
by Vihari Lala  Mitra (1891).




CHAPTER LIX.—Tranquillity of Suraghu.

Argument. The loss and oblivion of all things and thoughts,
leading to the security and Tranquillity of spirit.

Vasishtha continued:—O progeny of Raghu! after the sage Māndavya had
advised the Kirāta king in the said manner, he retired to his solitary
abode, suited for holy saints and sages.
2. After the sage had gone, the prince also retired to a lonely place;
and there began to reflect on the nature of his soul, and the manner of
his existence (in this world and the next).
3. He said:—I am not in this mountain (nor in any visible thing), nor
are they mine (or any part of myself); I am not the cosmos, nor is this
world myself. (I am no hill, nor do the hills appertain to my soul; I am
not of this earth, nor is the earth any part of mine unearthly spirit,
Gloss). So says the Sufi poets: nā azarsham &c.
4. This habitation of the Kirātas, does not belong to me nor do I belong
to it; it is the consent of the people that has made me the ruler of the
place.
5. Without this election I am no body here, nor is this place any thing
to me; though this city and this place are to last for ever.
6. The city so magnificent with its highflying flags, its groves and
gardens and groups of my servants, and the long train of horse,
elephants and soldiers, is, alas! nothing to myself.
7. All this was nothing to me before my election, and will not be mine
after my disposal; and all these possessions, enjoyments and consorts,
do neither appertain to me nor I to them.
8. Thus this Government with all its force and officers in the city, is
naught to me, nor am I aught to it in reality, except mere adscititious
compliments to one another.
9. I think myself to be this body of mine, composed of my legs, hands,
and feet, and believe myself to be placed in the midst of these (i.e.,
in the heart.)
10. But I perceive my body to be composed of flesh and bones; and not
constituting my rational self; which like the lotus flower rises amidst
the waters, without bearing any relation with that element.
11. I find the flesh of my body, to be dull and gross matter which do
not make my soul; and I find too my rational part to be not this gross
flesh at all. So do I find my bones likewise to be insensible
substances, and consequently forming no part of my sentient soul.
12. I am none of the organs of action, nor do these organs compose
myself. All organic bodies are composed of gross matter, and do not
consequently constitute the animated soul.
13. I am not the nourishment, which nourishes the body and not the soul
which makes myself; nor am I any organs of sense, which perceives the
material impressions, and have no sensibility without the intellect.
14. I am not the mind which is a passive agent, and minds whatever is
felt by it. It is called the understanding (buddhi) from its standing
under all its external and internal perceptions and conceptions
(bodha), and is the root of all worldly evils caused by its egoistic
feelings.
15. Thus I am neither the mind nor understanding, nor the internal
senses nor the external organs of action. I am not the inward subtile
body, nor its outward material and self locomotive form, but am
something besides all of these which I want to know.
16. I see at last my intelligent living soul, reflecting on the
intelligibles, thence called its intelligence. But this intelligent
principle being roused (to its action of thinking) by others (the
intelligibles), does not come under the category (padārtha) of the
soul—ātmā (which is independent, and self-consciousness only).
17. Thus I renounce the knowable (living soul), and do not acknowledge
the intelligible intelligence as myself. It is at the end of all the
immutable and pure Intellect, which remains to be owned as myself.
18. Ah! it is wonderful at last, that I have come to know the soul after
so long a time, and find it to be myself the infinite soul, and the
Supreme Spirit which has no end.
19. As Indra and the gods reside and are resolved in Brahma, so the
spirit of God pervades through all material bodies, as the string of the
necklace, passes through the poles of all the pearls of which it is
composed. (This all pervasive soul is known as sūtrātmā, one of the
ten hypostases of the Divinity).
20. The power of the soul known as intellect, is pure and unsullied in
its nature; it is devoid of the dirt of thinkable objects, and fills the
infinite space with its immense and stupendous figure. (The omniscience
of God comprehends the whole universe in itself, and pervades all
through it as the subtile air).
21. The intellect is devoid of all attributes, and pervades all
existences in its subtile form; stretches itself from the highest
empyrean of heaven to the lowest deep, and is the reservoir of all
power.
22. It is replete with all beauty, and is the light that enlightens all
objects unto us; it is the connecting chain to which all the worlds are
linked together like pearls in the necklace.
23. It is formless but capable of all forms and mutations; being
connected with all matters, and conversant with all subjects at all
times. (The intellect embraces all subjects and its subjective knowledge
comprehends all objects). It has no particular name nor form, but is
taken as varied into different forms, according to the operations of the
intellect.                     
24. It assumes fourteen forms in its cognition of so many sorts of
beings contained in the two wombs of the world; it is varied in all
these forms, in order to take cognizance of all things composing the
whole body of the natural world. (The intellect comprises the fourteen
sciences of Sanskrit literature over which it bears its command. Another
gloss means by it the fourteen worlds, which are under the cognizance
and dominion of the intellect).
25. The course of human happiness and misery, is a false representation
of the understanding; and the varieties of representations in the mind,
are mere operations of the soul and its attribute of the Intellect.
(Here the mental sciences are meant to be subordinate to the
intellectual, and that again under the psychological).
26. Thus this soul of mine is the same with the All pervading spirit;
and this understanding in me, is no other than that All knowing
intellect. It is the same mind, that represents these imaginary images
in the sensory of my mind, and
causes the error of my kingship in me.
27. It is by good grace of the Intellect, that the mind is seated in the
vehicle of the body; and ranges with joy amidst the sports and
diversions of the diversified scenes of this world.
28. But this mind and this body and all diversities are nothing in
reality; they are all destroyed by the cruel hand of death, and not a
vestige of them remains behind. (But the soul and its intellect are
indestructible).
29. This world is a stage, stretched out by the mind its chief actor,
and the soul sits silent as a spectator of this scene, under the light
of the intellect.
30. Alas, I find these painful thoughts of mine for the punishment,
retribution and well being of my people, to be all for nothing; since
whatever is done for the body, perishes with the body also.
31. O, that I am awakened to truth at present, and released from the
mirage of my false views long before; I have come to see what is worth
seeing, and have found all that is worthy to be had.
32. All these visibles which are seen to be wide spread throughout this
universe, are no more than false phantoms, presented or produced by the
vibrations of the intellect; and do not last for long.
33. What is the good then of these my punishments and rewards to my
people, which produce their pain and pleasure for a short time, and do
not lead to the lasting welfare of their souls.
34. What mean these pains and pleasures to us, when they both proceed
from ourselves, and are alike in the sight of God? I had been all along
ignorant of this truth, which has fortunately now dawned upon me.
35. What shall I now do under the influence of this light; shall I now
be sorry or joyous for it; what have I now to look at and do, as to
whether I shall now remain in this place or go away from here?
36. I behold this wondrous sphere of the intellect, now shining upon me
in its full splendour; and I hail thee, O holy light! which I see
blazing before me, but of which I can predicate nothing.
37. Ah! that I am now so awakened and enlightened and come to know the
whole truth in me; I hail, therefore, myself now instinct with infinity
and Omniscience.
38. Being freed from the paintings of my mind, and cleared from the
dross of the sensible objects, and also released from the errors of this
world; I rest myself, in the lap of my tranquil soul, as in a state of
sound sleep, and in utter oblivion of all my internal and external
impressions.
CHAPTER LX.—Extinction of Suraghu.
Argument. Seclusion of Suraghu until his last moment, and his
liberation in his lifetime.
Vasishtha continued:—Thus the lord of Hemajata, attained the state of
his perfect felicity; and it was by means of his ratiocination, that he
found his liberation in Brahma like the Son of Gādhi.
2. He was no longer employed in the discharge of his painful daily
rituals, which are attended with repeated misery to their practicers;
but remained like the unchanging sun, amidst the rotation of ever
changing days and nights.
3. He remained thence forward without any care or anxiety; and continued
as firm and unmoved, amidst the righteous and wrongful acts of his
subjects, as a rock stands in the midst of the boisterous waves, playing
about and dashing against it.
4. He was not susceptible of gladness or anger, at the conduct of others
in the discharge of their daily duties; but remained as grave as the
deep ocean, under the heaving waves of his clamorous people.
5. He subdued his mental actions and passions as a man does in his sound
sleep; and shone with an unshaken lustre, as the flame of a lamp in the
still air.
6. He was neither unkind nor ever kind to any body, nor of was he
envious or inimical to any one. He was neither too wise or unwise, nor
was he a seeker nor despiser of fortune.
7. He looked upon all with an even eye and in an equal light. He
conducted himself with unwaving steadiness, and was as cool and gentle
in his mind, as the calm ocean and the gentle moonlight.
8. Knowing all things in the world to be but workings of the mind, he
remained quiet in every state of pleasure and pain, with the soundness
of his understanding.
9. His mind was enlightened, and his entranced soul enjoyed its
anaesthesia in every state of his life; and was full in itself both when
he sat and slept, as also when he moved about or did any thing.
10. He continued for a full century to reign over his realm with his
mind unattached to state affairs; and with his unimpaired body and
intellect.
11. He at last quitted his habitation of the frail body of his own
accord; as the dew drops itself down, by being impregnated with the sun
beams.
12. His soul then fled on the wings of his intelligence, to the primary
and final cause of causes; as the current of the stream runs to the main
ocean, by breaking down its bounds of the banks on its way.
13. The intelligent soul being freed from its remorse (of leaving the
body), and released from the conditions of its transmigration, became
one with the immaculate spirit; and was then absorbed in the Supreme
One; as the air contained in a pot, mixes with the all-encompassing
firmament after the pot is broken.
CHAPTER LXI.—Meeting of Suraghu and Parigha.
Argument. The praiseworthy deeds of good Princes.
Vasishtha said:—O lotus-eyed Rāghava! do you likewise act in the manner
as Suraghu, and rely yourself in the sole existence of the Supreme one,
for cleansing your iniquities, and for your getting rid of all sorrow in
this world.
2. The mind will no longer pant or sorrow, when it comes to have this
ecumenical sight in itself; as a child is no more afraid of dark, when
it gets the light of a lamp in the room.
3. The discriminating mind of Suraghu found its rest in perfect
tranquillity; as a fool finds his security by laying hold of a big
bundle of straws.
4. Having this holy sight in your view, and by your preaching this light
to others, do you continue to enjoy this uniform insouciance (Samādhi)
in yourself, and shine forth as a bright gem before the world.
5. Rāma said:—Tell me O chief of sages, what is this uniform
insouciance, and set my mind at rest, which is now fluttering like the
plumes of a peacock discomposed by the winds.
6. Vasishtha replied:—Attend therefore, O Rāma! to the marvelous story
of that enlightened and sagely prince Suraghu, and how he conducted
himself by subsisting on the leaves of trees.
7. I will relate to you also the communication which went on between two
princes, both of whom were equally enlightened in their souls, and
situated in the same sort of uniform quietism.
8. There was a mighty king of the Plahvas (Persians) known by the name
of Parigha; who was a victor of his enemies, and also the support of his
realm, as the axle is the support of a carriage.
9. He was joined in true friendship with Suraghu, and was as closely
allied to him as the god of love with the vernal spring.
10. It happened at one time, that a great drought occurred in the land
of Suraghu, and it was attended by a famine, resembling the final
desolation of the earth, brought on by the sins of men.
11. It destroyed a great number of his people, who were exhausted by
hunger and debility; as a conflagration destroys the unnumbered living
animals of the forest.
12. Seeing this great disaster of his people, Parigha was overwhelmed in
grief; and he left his capital in despair, as a traveller leaves a city
burnt down to the ground.
13. He was so sorely soul-sick at his inability to remove this
unavertible calamity of his subjects, that he went to a forest to devote
himself to devotion like Jīva the chief of devote. (Jīva is another name
of Buddha, who betook himself to the forest on seeing the woes of human
kind).
14. He entered a deep wood unseen by and unknown to his people, and
there passed his time in his disgust with the world, and afar and away
from mankind.
15. He employed himself in his austere devotion in the cavern of a
mountain, and remained sober-minded, with his subsistence upon dry and
withered leaves of trees.
16. It was by his subsisting on dry leaves for a long time, as fire
devours them always, that he obtained the surname of the leaf-eater
among the assembled devotees on that spot.
17. It was thenceforward that the good and royal sage passed under his
title of the leaf-eater among the holy sages in all parts of Jambūdvīpa
(Asia).
18. Having thus conducted himself with his most rigid austerities for
many years, he attained the divine knowledge by his long practice of
self-purification, and by grace of the supreme soul.
19. He obtained his self-liberation by his avoidance of enmity and the
passions and affections of anger, pity and other feelings and desires;
and by his attainment of mental calmness and an enlightened
understanding.
20. He wandered ad libitum all about the temple of the triple world
(composed of earth, heaven and the nether regions); and mixed in the
company of the siddhas and sādhyas, as the bees mix with the company of
swans about the lotus beds.
21. His peregrination led him at one time, to visit the city of
Hema-jata, which was built with gemming stones, and shone as brightly as
a peak of the mount Meru (which is represented to be composed of gold
and resplendent stones).
22. Here he met with his old friend the king of that city, and saluted
each other with mutual fondness. They were both delivered from the
darkness of ignorance, and were perfect in their knowledge of the
knowable.
23. They accosted mutually with saying, "O! It is by virtue of our good
fortune that we come to meet one another".
24. They embraced each other in their arms and with joyous countenances,
and then sat on the one and same seat, as when the sun and moon are in
conjunction.
25. Parigha said:—My heart rejoices to see you with full satisfaction;
and my mind receives a coolness as if it immerged in the cooling orb of
the moon.
26. Unfeigned friendship like true love, shoots forth in a hundred
branches in our separation from each other; as a tree growing by the
side of a pool, stretches its boughs all around, until it is washed away
with its roots by the current.
27. The remembrance of the confidential talks, merry sports and idle
plays of our early days awakes in me, O my good friend! those innocent
joys afresh in me.
28. I know well, O sinless friend, that the divine knowledge which I
have gained by my long and painful devotion and by the grace of God, is
already known to you from the preachings of the sapient sage Māndavya to
you.
29. But let me ask, are you not placed beyond the reach of sorrow, and
set in your rest and tranquillity; and are you situated in the supreme
cause of all, and as firmly as if you were seated upon the unshaken rock
of Meru?
30. Do you ever feel that auspicious self gratifying grace in your soul,
which purifies the fountain of your mind, as the autumnal sky clears the
springs of water on earth?
31. Do you, O ruler of your people, perform all your acts, with a
complacent air and steady mind, as you were discharging your duties for
the good of mankind?
32. Do the people in your realm live in safety, to enjoy their
prosperity and competence, and are they all free from disease, danger
and anxieties of life?
33. Is this land plentiful in its harvests, and are the trees here
bending down with their fruitage; and do the people here enjoy the fruit
of their labour and the objects of their desire?
34. Is your good fame spread about in all quarters, like the clear and
cooling beams of the full moon; and does it cover the face of this land,
like a sheet of snowfall on the ground?
35. Is the space of all quarters of the sky, filled with the renown of
your virtues, as to leave no gap in it; and as the roots and stalks of
lotus bushes overspread the tank, and choke and check the course of its
waters?
36. Do the young minds and virgins of your villages, street and walk
about pleasantly over the plains and fields here abouts; and do they
loudly laud forth your heart cheering applause (or their merry songs)?
37. Does all welfare attend on you, with respect to your prosperity,
wealth and possessions and the produce of your fields; and do your
family, children and dependents fare well in this city?
38. Do you enjoy your health free from all disease and complaint; and
reap the reward of your meritorious acts done for this life and the next
(such as sacrifices made for future rewards).
39. Are you indifferent in your mind with regard to temporary
enjoyments, which appear pleasant for a moment, but prove to be our
deadly enemies at last.
40. O! it is after a very long separation, that we come to meet again;
it is my good fortune that rejoins me to you, as the spring revisits the
dales with verdure.
41. There are no such joys here, nor such woes even in this world: which
do not happen to the lot of the living in their union with, and
separation from one another.
42. We are quite altered in our circumstances, during our long
separation; and yet how we happened to meet each other in the same
unchanged state of our minds, by a wonderful accident of destiny.
43. Suraghu replied:—Yes, sir, the course of destiny is as crooked as
that of a serpent; nor is there any man that can penetrate into the
depth of the mysterious nature of destiny.
44. There is nothing impossible to destiny, which has after the lapse of
so long a time, has reunited us in one place, from the vast distance of
the two countries asunder.
45. O great sir! we are all in good health and prosperity in this place,
and have been supremely blest by your graciousness unto us.
46. Behold us purified and cleansed of our sins, by your holy presence
among us; and the arbor of our merits has borne the fruit of our peace
and satisfaction at your sight.
47. O royal sage! we enjoy all prosperity in this our native city; and
your presence here this day, has made it shoot forth, in a hundred
off-shoots of joy and happiness.
48. O noble minded sir! your appearance and speech, have sprinkled this
place with sweet nectarine drops, joy and holiness; because the company
of the virtuous, is reckoned to equal the supreme felicity of man.
CHAPTER LXII.—On the Nature of Quietism and Quietus.
Argument. A discussion about Active and Inactive Devotion and
Godliness.
Vasishtha related:—The prince Parigha then resumed his confidential
speech, expressive of the affection he formerly bore to Suraghu and
added:—
2. Parigha said:—Whatever acts of goodness are done by men of well
governed minds, in this earth of strife, they all redound to their
happiness; but the evil deeds of ungoverned minds are not so, but lead
to their misery.
3. Do you rely, sir, in that state of perfect rest which is free from
desire; and do you rest in that state of supineness—samādhi, which is
styled transcendental Coma or trance (paramopsama)?
4. Suraghu replied:—Tell me sir, what you mean by the abandonment of
all desires; and what is meant by that perfect lethargy, which they call
as transcendental coma or trance.
5. Tell me, O high minded Sir, how can that man be called unentranced,
who is enrapt in his supreme intelligence (or knowledge of the supreme),
and at the same time is attendant to his worldly concerns.
6. Men of enlightened understandings, however, they are employed in the
observance of their usual worldly affairs, are yet said to be enraptured
with their knowledge of the solity of the supreme soul.
7. But how can one be said to be beatified, whose mind is unsubdued and
whose nature is indomitable; although he may keep his position in the
posture of padmāsana with his folded palms.
8. The knowledge of truth which burns away all worldly desires as
straws, is termed the true catalepsy (samādhi) of the soul; rather
than the sedentariness and taciturnity observed by secluded devotees.
9. The knowledge which is attended with continued rest and self-content,
and gives an insight into the nature of things, is called the paragoge
(paraprajna), and repose (samādhi) of the soul by the wise.
(Paragogies or palpable knowledge, is opposed to anagogies or hidden
knowledge).
10. Immobility of the mind by pride and enmity, is known by the term
samādhi or quietness to the wise; when the mind is as unmoved as the
fixed rock against the howling winds of the passions (i.e. the mind
which is unshaken and unmoved by passions and desires).
11. The mind is also said to have its stillness samādhi, when it is
devoid of anxious thoughts and cares, and is acquainted with the
natures of its wished for objects; and yet freed from its choice of and
aversion to the objects of its liking or dislike. This is also said to
be the fulness or perfection of the mind.
12. Again the mind of the magnanimous, is said to stand in its stillness
of samādhi or quietism, ever since it is joined with its
understanding, and acts conjointly with the same.
13. But this pause of samādhi being stretched too far to a dead lock,
is liable to break down by itself; as the fibre of a lotus-stalk upon
its being drawn too long by the hand of a boy. Dead and dormant
quiescence is the opposite extreme of sensible quietism.
14. As the sun does not cease from giving his light to the other
hemisphere, after he sets from dispensing the day over this part, so
doth our intelligence continue to glow, even after it has run its course
in this life. (So there is no dead stop called the entire pause—pūrna
samādhi, or utter extinction of the soul at any time).
15. As the course of a stream is never at a stop, notwithstanding the
incessant gliding of its currents; so the course of our thoughts hath no
suspension from its knowing of further truths. (The mind is ever
progressive in its acquisition of knowledge, which proves the
impossibility of its cessation).
16. As the ever continuous duration, never loses the sight of the
fleeting moments of time; so the sempiternal soul is never in abeyance,
to mark the flitting thoughts of its mind.
17. As the ever current time, never forgets to run its wonted course; so
the intelligent understanding is never remiss, to scan the nature of the
mysterious Intellect, which guides its course.
18. The thoughts of an intelligent being, run in as quick a succession;
as the continued rotation of the parts of time; and this is when the
mind wanders at random, and is not settled in the sole object of its
meditation.
19. As the lifeless soul has no perception of any external object; so
the soul unconscious of itself, has no knowledge of the course of time;
as in the state of sleep, delirium and insensibility.
20. As there is no skilful man, without some skill or other in the
world; so there is no intelligent being, without the knowledge of his
soul and self-consciousness here.
21. I find myself to be enlightened and wakeful, and pure and holy at
all times; and that my mind is tranquil, and my soul at its rest on all
occasions.
22. I find nothing to intercept the sweet repose of my soul, which has
found its anchorage in my uninterrupted communion with the holy spirit.
23. Hence my mind is never without its quiescence at any time, nor is it
unquiet at any moment, its being solely resigned to spiritual
meditation.
24. I see the all pervading and everlasting soul, in every thing and in
every manner; and know not whether it be the rest or unrest on my soul,
which has found both its quiet and employment, in its perpetual
meditation of the Divine Spirit.
25. Great men of quiescent spirits, continue always in an even and
uniform tone and tenor of their minds with themselves; therefore the
difference betwixt the rest and restlessness of the soul, is a mere
verbal distinction, and bear no shade of difference and in their
signification.
CHAPTER LXIII.—The Conclusion of the Above.
Argument. The Best means of self-contented happiness.
Parigha said:—Prince, I find you to be truly wise and enlightened in
your beatitude; and dost shine as the full moon with your inward
coolness.
2. I see in you the fulness of sweet delight, and the shadow of
prosperity resting upon you; and you appear as graceful as the water
lily, with your pleasing and cooling countenance.
3. The clearness, extent, the fullness and depth of your understanding,
give you the appearance of the deep, clear and extensive ocean, when it
ceases to be perturbed by the loud winds and waves.
4. The pure and full delight of your inward soul, which is free from the
cloud of egotism, gives it the grace of the clear expanse of the
autumnal sky.
5. I see you composed in your mind in all places, and find you contented
at all times; you are moreover devoid of passions, and all these combine
to add to you an unutterable grace.
6. You have got over the bounds, of knowing whatever is good and evil in
this world; and your great understanding, has made you acquainted with
every thing in its entirety.
7. Your mind is cheered with the knowledge of all existence and
non-existence, and your body is freed from the evil of repeated birth
and death—the common lot of all beings.
8. You have gleaned the truth from whatever is untrue, and are as
satiate with your true knowledge, as the gods were satisfied with
drinking the water of immortality which they churned out of the brackish
water of the ocean.
9. Suraghu replied: There is nothing in this world, O royal sage! which
we may chose as inestimable to us; for all that shines and glitters
here, are nothing in reality and have no intrinsic value.
10. In this manner there being nothing desirable here to us, there is
nothing disgusting to us neither; because the want of a thing intimates
the want of its contrary also.
11. The idea of the meanness of the most part of worldly things, and
that of the greatness of others on particular occasions, are both
weakened and obliterated from my mind (i.e. the best thing that is of
service at some time, and the very best thing that is useless at others,
are all indifferent to the wise).
12. It is time and place that give importance to the object, and lower
the best ones in our estimation; therefore it behoves the intelligent,
neither to be lavish in the praise or dispraise of one or the other.
13. It is according to our estimation of another, that we praise or
dispraise the same; and we esteem whatever is desirable to us; but they
are the most intelligent, that give their preference to what is the
best, and of the greatest good is to us.
14. But the world abounding in its woods and seas, and mountains and
living animals, presents us nothing that is to be desired for our
lasting and substantial good.
15. What is there that we should desire, when there is nothing worth
desiring in this world; save bodies composed of flesh and bones, and
wood and stones, all of which are worthless and frail.
16. As we cease to desire, so we get rid of our fawning and hatred also;
as the setting of the sun is attended with the loss of both light and
heat.
17. It is useless verbiage to expatiate on the subject; it is enough to
know this truth for our happiness here, i.e. to have our desires under
subjection, and an evenness of our minds under all conditions, attended
with inward placidity and universal regard for all.
CHAPTER LXIV.—Sermon on Self-Knowledge.
Argument. The way to guard the mind from faults, and deliver the
soul from misery.
Vasishtha resumed:—After Suraghu and Perigha had ended their discussion
on the errors of this world, they honoured one another with due respect,
and retired gladly to their respective duties of the day.
2. Now Rāma, as you have heard the whole of this instructive typo
dialogue between them, do you try to profit thereby by a mature
consideration of the same.
3. It is by reasoning with the learned, that the wits are sharpened with
intelligence; and the egotism of men melts down in their minds, like the
raining of a thick black cloud in the sky.
4. It spreads a clear and calm composure over the mind, as the revisit
of cloudless Autumn does, over the spacious firmament to the delight of
mankind, and by its diffusion of bounteous plenty on earth.
5. After the region of the intellect, is cleared of its darkness, the
light of the supreme soul which is the object of meditation and our sole
refuge, becomes visible in it.
6. The man that is always spiritual and insighted within himself, who is
always delighted with his intellectual investigations, has his mind
always free from sorrow and regret.
7. Though the spiritual man is engaged in worldly affairs, and is
subject to passions and affections; yet he is unstained by them in his
heart, as the lotus bud is unsullied by the water under which it is
sub-merged.
8. The silent sage that is all-knowing, holy, and calm and quiet in
himself, is never disturbed by his ungoverned mind; but remains as firm
as the dauntless lion, against the rage of the unruly elephant.
9. The heart of the wise man is never affected by the mean pleasures of
the world; but it stands as the lofty arbor of paradise, above the
encircling bushes of thorny brambles and poisonous plants.
10. As the religious recluse who is disgusted with the world, has no
care for his life, nor fear of death; so the man whose mind is fraught
with full knowledge, is never elated nor depressed by his good or bad
fortune.
11. The man that knows the erroneousness of the mind and the panorama of
the world in the soul, is never soiled by the stain of sin, as the clear
sky is nowhere daubed by any dirt or dust.
12. It is the knowledge of one's ignorance, that is the best safe guard
against his falling into greater ignorance, and it is the only remedy
for his malady of ignorance, as the light of the lamp is the only
remedial of nocturnal gloom.
13. The knowledge of our ignorance is the best healer of ignorance, as
the knowledge of one's dreaming removes his trust in the objects of his
dream. (A dream known as a dream to the dreamer, can not lead him to
delusion).
14. A wise man engaged in business, with his mind disengaged from it,
and fixed on one object, is not obstructed by it in his view of
spiritual light; as the eye-sight of fishes, is not hindered by the
surrounding water.
15. As the light of intellectual day, appears over the horizon of the
mind, the darkness of the night of ignorance is put to flight; and then
the mind enjoys its supreme bliss of knowledge, as in the full blaze of
day.
16. After the sleep of ignorance is over, the mind is awakened by its
intelligence, to the bright beams of the rising sun of knowledge; and
then the mind is ever awake to reason, which no dulness can overpower.
17. A man is said to live so long, as he sees the moon of his soul, and
the moon beams of his intellect, shining in the sphere of his mind; and
he is said to have lived only for those few days, that he has discharged
his duties with joy.
18. A man passing over the pool of his ignorance, and betaking himself
to the contemplation of his soul; enjoys a coolness within him, as the
cooling moon enjoys by the cold nectarious juice contained in her orb.
19. They are our true friends, and those are the best sāstras; and those
days are well spent, which have passed with them (the sāstras), in
discourse on dispassionateness, and when we felt the rise of the
intellect within us.
20. How lamentable is their case, who are born to perish like ferns in
their native forests; and who are immerged in their sinfulness, by their
neglect to look into their souls.
21. Our lives are interwoven with a hundred threads of hopes and fears,
and we are as greedy as bulls of their fodder of straws. We are at last
over taken by old age and decrepitude, and are carried away with sorrow
and sighs.
22. The dullheaded are made to bear, like heavy laden bullocks, great
loads of distress on their backs in their native soil.
23. They are bitten and disturbed by the gnats of their passions, and
are made to plough the ground under the halter of their avarice; they
are shut in the cribs of their masters, and are bound by the bonds of
their kindred.
24. Thus we are harassed in the supportance of our wives and children,
and weakened by age and infirmity, and like beasts of burden we have to
wade in dirt and mire, and to be dragged to long journeys, and be broken
under heavy loads, without halting a while under the toil and fatigue.
25. Bending under our heavy loads, we are tired with our long journeys
across the deserts, where we are burnt under the burning sunbeams,
without having a cool shade, to shelter our heads for a while.
26. We are big bodied like bulls with poor souls in us; we are oppressed
at every limb, and labour under our destiny by being tied as the ringing
bell, about the necks of bullocks; and the scourge of our sins lashing
us on both sides.
27. We toil like bulls labouring under the poles of the carts which they
draw along; and traverse through dreary deserts, without laying down our
bodies to rest for a moment.
28. We are always prone to and plunged in our own evils, and move on
like heavy laden bullocks with trolling and groaning all the way long.
29. Rāma! try your best to redeem by all means, this bullock of your
living soul, from the pool of this world; and take the best measures, to
restore it to its form of pristine purity.
30. The animal soul that is released from the ocean of this world, and
becomes purified in its mind by the light of truth, is no more liable to
roll in the mud, like some beasts after they are cleansed.
31. It is in the society of highminded men, that the living soul
receives the instruction, for its salvation in this ocean of the world;
just as a passenger easily gets a boat from the ferry-man to go across a
river.
32. That country is a desert where there are not learned and good
people, resembling the verdant trees of the land. The wise must not
dwell in the land, where the trees yield neither fruits nor afford
cooling shades.
33. Good men are as the flowering Champa trees of the land; their
cooling words resemble the shady leaves of the tree, and their gentle
smiles its blooming flowers. Let men therefore resort to the umbrage of
such champaka bowers.
34. For want of such men, the world is a desert, burning under the
darkening heat of ignorance, where no wise man should allow himself to
rest in peace and quiet.
35. It is the self that is the true friend to one's self, therefore
support thyself upon thy self only; nor obscure the brightness of thy
soul, under thy darkness of the bodily pride, to bury thy life in the
slough of ignorance.
36. Let the learned ponder in themselves, "what is this body and how
came it to existence, what is its origin and to what is it reduced?"
Thus let the wise consider with diligence, the miseries to which this
body is subject.
37. Neither riches nor friends, nor learning nor relatives, serve to
redeem the drowning soul. It must be one's own mind to buy its own
redemption, by resigning itself to its source and cause.
38. The mind is the constant companion and true friend to the soul; and
therefore it is by consultation with the mind, that one should seek to
redeem himself.
39. It is by a constant habit of dispassionateness and self
deliberation, that one can ford the ocean of this world, riding on the
raft of true knowledge (or the knowledge of truth).
40. It is pitiable to see the inward torments of the evil minded, that
neglect to release their souls from all worldly vexations.
41. Release the elephant of your living soul—jīva, from the fetters
of its egoism, its bonds of avarice and the ebriety of its mind; and
deliver it from the muddy pit of its birth place, and retire to your
solitude.
42. It is by these means, O Rāma, that the soul has its salvation;
therefore cast away your ignorance, and wipe off your egoism.
43. This is the best way that leaves the soul to its purity, that makes
you disentangle your self from the snare of your mind, and disengage
your soul from the trap of egoism.
44. It is by this means, that the lord of gods, the supreme soul is
beheld by us; and the corporeal body is regarded as a clod of earth, or
a block of wood, and not better than these.
45. The sunlight of the intellect comes to view, after dispersion of the
cloud of egoism by which it is obscured; and it is after this that you
attain the state of supreme felicity.
46. As the light of the day is seen, after withdrawal of the dark veil
of night; so you come to see the light of the soul, after removal of the
curtain of your egoism.
47. That felicitous state of the soul, which remains after dispersion of
the darkness of egoism; the same is the state of divine fulness, and is
to be adored with all diligence.
48. This state of the vast oceanlike and perfect fulness of soul, which
no words can express nor any eye can behold, is beyond all comparison,
and every colour of human attribution.
49. It is but a particle of the pure intellectual light, which gains its
stability in the devout spirit, and is then comparable with naught
beside the light of the Divinity, which shines before the internal sight
of the holy.
50. Though it is beyond all comparison, yet it is beheld by us to be in
the state of our sound sleep—susupta (hypnotism), it is the state of
immensity, and is as extended as the vast extent of the firmament.
51. After extinction of egoism and the mental powers, and subsidence of
all the feelings in oneself; there arises a transcendent ecstasy in the
soul, which is styled the form of the divine or perfect joy and
blissness:—(paripurnamanandam).
52. This blissful is attainable only by yoga meditation, and in the
hypnotism of sound sleep. It is not utterable by speech, O Rāma, but to
be perceived only in the heart.
53. The totality of the Divinity is perceived only by the percipience of
the mind, and by no categorial distinction of the divine essence;
without this intuitive percipience, we can have no conception of the
soul.
54. The knowledge of the soul, comprehends in itself the whole totality
and infinity together; and resides in the invariable steadiness of the
mind. It is by the shutting out the internal and external from the
senses and the mind, that the lord of lords, the divine soul appears to
our intelligence.
55. Hence follows the extinction of our desire of sensible objects, and
hence we derive the light of our supreme felicity; that we have an even
minded composure in all circumstances; which leads the souls of the
magnanimous, to revert to that inscrutable identity (which has no
convertibility in it).
CHAPTER LXV.—Story of Bhāsa and Vilāsa.
Argument. Account the Lives and Actions of Bhāsa and Vilāsa or
the Sahya pupils.
Vasishtha continued:—As long as one does not come to perceive his soul,
by breaking down his mind of his own accord; and so long, lotus-eyed
Rāma, one does not get rid of his egoism and meism (i.e.,
selfishness).
2. There is no end of his worldly misery, as there is no setting of the
painted sun; and his adversity becomes as extended, as the vast ocean
itself.
3. His misfortunes are as interminable, as the succession of the waves
in the sea; and the appearance of the world is as gloomy to him, as the
face of the sky, covered by the dark clouds of the rainy season.
4. Here will I recite an old story, containing a discourse between two
friends Bhāsa and Vilāsa, in some region of the Sahya mountain.
5. Now this is a mountain mightier than the three worlds in his superior
strength. In his height he surmounted the sky, and in his extent he got
the better of the ground, and with his foot he reached the infernal
region.
6. It was fraught with various flowers, and furnished with innumberable
water falls; its precious stones were watched ever by the Guhya
mountaineers, and named as Sahya or moderate being situated in the
temperate zone; yet it was intolerable as a tropic mountain (by the
intense heat on its top).
7. Its girdle of sun-stones, seemed to studded with pearls, by the
sloping beams of the sun falling upon them; and its base with its
pavement of gold, looked as the gold island (of Lankā).
8. Here a hill was full of flowers, and there another filled with
minerals; there were lakes with flowering water plants on one side, and
gemming stones lying on another.
9. Here the cascades were hurling and gurgling in foaming froths, and
there the old bamboos were blowing through their hollow pipes; on one
side the winds were howling in the mountain caves, and on another the
bees were buzzing on the clustering flowers.
10. The Apsaras were singing in concert on the mountain tops, and the
wild beasts were growling in the forests; there the birds were chirping
in the groves, and the clouds were roaring on the peaks of mountains,
while the birds of the air crying and flying about the sky.
11. The vidyādharas rested in the mountain grottos, and the black bees
were humming on the lotus beds; the border lands resounded with the
chorus of Keratās, and the woodlands were resonant with the melodies of
singing birds.
12. It appeared as the abode of the triple world, having the seats of
the gods on its top, the residence of men at its foot, and the holes of
snakes under its bottom.
13. There were the siddhas dwelling in its caverns, and precious metals
lying hid in its bosom; its sandal woods were the resort of snakes, and
its peaks were the haunts of lions.
14. It was crowned with wreaths of flowers hanging on high over its
head; and its body was besmeared with the dust and pollen of flowers; it
was fanned by the fragrant breeze of flowers, and was all flowery with
the fallen flowers.
15. It was daubed with the grey dust of its metallic ores, and stood on
its footstool of precious stones; it was often resorted to by heavenly
damsels, frequenting its bowers to cull the Mandāra flowers.
16. Its peaks were veiled by the blue mantle of clouds, and decorated
with the gems hidden under them; they appeared as beauties beaming with
the golden beams of the sun, and rising to meet their loving gods in
heaven.
17. There was a table land on the northern edge of that mountain, which
was overhung by trees loaded with bunches of fruits, and also a gemming
lake, formed by the waters of cataracts falling from high.
18. The ground was strewn over with florets scattered by the waving
stalks of amra trees; and its borders were decorated with the
blossoming kolkara and punnaga plants, shining as cerulean lotuses
about a lake.
19. The sun beams were shut out by the embowering alcoves of creepers,
and the ground sparkled with its gems like the floor of heaven; the
Jambu fruits distilled their juice like the cooling moon beams, and
all these made this spot as delightful as the moonlight sky.
20. It was as delightful as the heaven of Brahmā and the celestial seat
of Siva; and here the sage Atri held his hermitage which blotted away
the austerities of Siddhas.
21. In this hermitage there dwelt two hermits, both of whom were as wise
and knowing as Brihaspati and Sukra—the preceptors of gods and
demigods.
22. They were both as of one flesh and soul, and brought forth in time
two boys, like two buds of lotuses growing in the same bed, and having
their bodies as pure as the limpid lake from which they sprang.
23. They were named Bhāsa and Vilāsa, who grew up in time like two
orchids, upon the branching arms of their parents.
24. They had one soul and mind in two bodies, which were united to one
another as those of two loving brothers, and intimate friends. They
remained in mutual union like the oil and seeds of sesamum, and as the
flower and its fragrance.
25. The fond parents were much more mutually attached in their hearts
and minds, owing to their joint care and affection for their lads, and
seemed as they were the one and same person in two different bodies.
26. The two boys of graceful forms, remained also pleased with one
another in the same hermitage; and moved about as two bees, over the
same bed of lotuses in the same lake.
27. They attained their youth after passing their boyhood and shone
forth in a short time, as the two luminaries of the sun and moon rising
together.
28. The aged parents then left their infirm bodies, and went to heaven
like a pair of birds quitting their broken nest. (Nest is in sanskrit
nidas, Lat. nidus. Plato compares the departing soul, to the flight
of a bird from its nest.)
29. The demise of the parents made the youths as dejected as the
drooping lotus in a dried-up channel; and the vigour of their bodies now
gave way to their want of energy.
30. They discharged the funeral rites, and remained long in their
mourning; under the sad accidents of life, which are unavertible even by
the good and great.
31. After performance of the obsequies, they were so overpowered by
their grief and sorrow, that they continued to wail over their memory
with piteous cries and tears. They sat silent and inactive as pictures
in a painting, with their melancholy countenances and hearts heavy with
sobs and sighs.
CHAPTER LXVI.—The Transitoriness of Life and Evanescence of World by
Things.
Argument. Speech of Bhāsa, on the vain sorrows and griefs of
unenlightened Minds.
Vasishtha continued:—The two sorrowful hermits continued in the
observance of their rigorous austerities, until their bodies where
emaciated as two withered trees in the forest.
2. They passed their time with cool apathy in their minds in the
solitary forest; and were as helpless as stray stags separated from each
other, and wandering afar from their home and possessions.
3. They passed their days and nights, and months and years in this
manner; until both of them were worn out by age, like two withered trees
in a valley (having no-body to take notice of them).
4. Not attaining to true knowledge, their austerities served only to
shatter their frames, and reduce their strength; till at last they
happened to meet one another, and betook to their conversation in the
following manner.
5. Vilāsa said:—O Bhāsa, that art the best fruit of the tree of my
life, that hast thy seat in the recess of my heart, and art a sea of
ambrosia to me, I welcome thee, O my best friend in this world.
6. Tell me my good friend, how and where you passed so long a time,
after your separation from me; and whether your austerities have been
successful to be rewarded with their fruit.
7. Tell me whether thy mind is freed from anxieties, and whether thou
art in possession of thy self (i.e. self-possessed by knowledge of thy
soul). Say, hast thou obtained the reward of thy learning, and hast thou
after all, got thy peace and quiet.
8. Being thus addressed and asked by Vilāsa, whose mind was troubled
amidst the vexations of this world; Bhāsa who had attained to consummate
knowledge, replied to him as respectfully as a friend doth to his
dearest friend.
9. Bhāsa replied:—O good friend! you are fortunately and happily met
here this day; but how can we expect to have our peace and rest so long
as we have to remain in this world of strife and vale of misery.
10. How can I have my rest so long, as the turbulent passions are not
subdued in my breast; and until I can know the knowable (the unknown one
that is only worth knowing); and till I can get across this sea of the
world.
11. How can we have our quiet, as long as our desires and hopes and
fears continue to infest in our minds; and until we can weed them out,
like thorns and brambles of bushes, with the spade of our reason.
12. Until we can gain true knowledge, and have the evenness of our
minds; and until we can have a full knowledge of things, we can have no
rest in us.
13. Without the knowledge of the soul and acquisition of true knowledge,
which is the greatest remedy against all diseases of the mind, it is
impossible to escape from the pestilence of the world.
14. The poisonous plant of worldliness, sprouts forth in our childhood;
it shoots out in its leaves in our youth, it flowers in our old age, and
never fructifies before our death. (We live to long after the fruit best
never to earn it).
15. The body decays as a withered tree, and our relatives flutter as
bees over it; old age overtakes us with its blossoming grey hairs, and
produces the fruit of death.
16. We have to reap the bitter fruits of our actions of bygone times,
which are laid up in store, and fructify in their seasons; and thus
years upon years glide upon us, in the same monotonous rotation of
business, and the sad tenor of our minds.
17. This tall body of ours, rising as a thief on the ground, has all its
inner cells and caves, filled with the thorns of our cravings; it is the
abode of the serpentine train of our actions, emitting the poison of
continuous woe in our repeated transmigrations in new bodies.
18. See how our days and nights are rolling on, in their circuit of
continued misery and misfortune, which are misconstrued by men for
transient joy and good fortune.
19. See how our lives are spent, in useless pursuits after objects of
our vain wishes; and how we misspend our time with trifles, that are of
no good to us.
20. The furious elephant of the ungoverned mind, breaks loose from its
fetters of good sense; and then joining with the elephants of wild
desire, ranges at large without rest or sleep.
21. The bawling tongue sets on screaming, as a vulture in the hollow of
the tree of human body; and fosters itself by feeding on the gems of
thought (chintamani), lying hidden in it. (The talkative fool is no
thoughtful man).
22. The slackened limbs of the old and withered body, drop down like the
dry leaves of trees; and there is nothing to prop up the drooping
spirit, from its decay and decline day by day.
23. The brightness of the body flies away in old age, and the mind
dejected at the disregard of every body, becomes as pale and withered,
as the lotus flower fades away under the frost.
24. As the channel of the body dries up in old age, and the water of
youth is drained out of it; so the swan of life flies away far from it,
and there is nothing to retard its flight.
25. The old and time worn tree of the aged body, is overpowered by the
force of the blasts of time; which blast its leaves and flowers (like
human hopes) below, and then buries them all underneath the ground. (So
says the Persian poet: Ai basā haus ke bāz mandā, oai basā arzu ke khāk
shuda).
26. As the serpent of desire lies dormant in the heart, (for want of
overtaking its prey in old age); it is content like the croaking frog,
to hold its complaints in the mouth; and the mind like a monster, hides
itself in the pool of dark despondence.
27. Our desires with their various wishes, are as the variegated flags
of temples, furling and fluttering in all directions, till they are
hurled down by the hurricane old age.
28. The world is a long linked chain, lying in the depth of eternity;
wherein the rat of death is always busy in gnawing down the knot of life
at the root.
29. The stream of life glides muddily on, with the foam and froth of
cares and anxieties; there are the whirlpools of repeated
transmigrations, and the waves of youthful levities, which are as
boisterous as they are dangerous.
30. The stream of our actions on earth, flows on interminably, with the
billows of our worldly duties, and the various arts of life, all leading
to the abyss of perdition.
31. The current of our friends and relations, and the concourse of
people, glide on incessantly to the deep and boundless ocean of
eternity; from whose bourne no body ever returns to life.
32. The body is a valuable instrument, for the discharge of our worldly
duties; but it is soon lost under the mud of this ocean of the world,
and no body knows where it is buried in its repeated births.
33. The mind is bound to the wheel of its anxieties, and put to the rack
for its misleads; it revolves all along as a straw, in the eddy of this
ocean of the world.
34. The mind dances and floats, over the waves of the endless duties of
life; it has not a moment's respite from its thoughts, but continues to
oscillate with the action of the body, and rise and fall according to
the course of events.
35. The mind like a bewildered bird, flutters between its various
thoughts, of what it has done, what it is doing and what it is about to
do; and is thus caught in the trap of its own fancies for evermore.
36. The thoughts that this one is my friend, and the other one is my
foe, are our greatest enemies in this world; and these tear my heart
strings like the rough wind, that tears the tender lotus leaves and
fibres. (It is wrong to take one for a friend or foe whom we do not
know, and with whom we have no concern).
37. The mind is overwhelmed in the whirlpool of its cares; it is
sometimes hurled down to the bottom, and at others floating upon and
loosened from it like a living fish caught by angling hook.
38. The belief of the external body for the internal self, is the cause
of all our woe herein; and so the taking of others as our own is equally
for our misery.
39. All mankind placed between their weal and woe in life, are swept
away to age and death; as the leaves of trees growing on high hills, are
scattered by the high winds of heaven.
 






Om Tat Sat
                                                        
(Continued...) 




( My humble salutations to Brahmasri Sreemaan Vihari Lala Mitra ji for the collection)

0 Response to "The Yoga Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki ( Volume -3) -2"

Post a Comment