Tales of the Sun Part 18

XXIII.

GOOD LUCK TO THE LUCKY ONE; OR, SHALL I FALL DOWN?

In a certain town there lived a wealthy Brahmin. He wished to build a house--pretty large and s.p.a.cious--as became his riches. For that purpose he called in a great number of soothsayers, and fixed, guided by their scientific opinion, a place for building the mansion. A certain portion of every day is supposed to be bad for doing work. This portion is sometimes called the Rahu-kala--the evil time of the demon rahu and sometimes tyajya--the time to be avoided. And abandoning carefully all these evil hours the wealthy Brahmin built his mansion in ten years. The first entrance into a new house to dwell is performed always with a great deal of pomp and ceremony, even by the poor according to their means. And our wealthy Brahmin to please the G.o.ds of the other world and the G.o.ds of this world--bhusuras Brahmins--spent a great deal of his wealth, and with veoras and music sounding all around him he entered into his house.

The whole of the day almost was spent in ceremonies and festivities. All the guests left the place at evening, and much exhausted by the exertions of the day the Brahmin house-owner retired to rest. Before sleep could close his eyelids he heard a fearful voice over his head exclaiming:--"Shall I fall down? Shall I fall down?"

Great was the concern of the landlord at hearing this voice. He thought that some demon had taken possession of his house, and that he was going to pull down the roof of his house over his own head. That very night with as much haste as he entered the new house, he vacated it and went back to his old house.

Sirukakhatti perukavalka is the Tamil proverb. The meaning of it is "build small and live great," i.e., build small houses without laying out much capital uselessly in houses and live prosperously; and in villages many a rich landlord would prefer small houses to big ones. The idea that he had spent a great deal of money to build a big house troubled our hero. The s.p.a.ciousness of the house was one reason for the devil to come in so easily, as he thought. When he vacated his house on the very night of the day he entered it people began to talk all sorts of scandals about it. The ladies in the bathing places (ghats) in rivers began to give all sorts of colour to the devils in that house. One said that when she was coming to the river she saw a company of devils dancing round and round the middle pillar of the upper storey of that unfortunate house. Another said that she observed unearthly lights in that mansion the previous night. Thus people talked and talked, furnishing new colours and new adventures out of their pure imagination for a phenomena which they never saw. And our unfortunate rich man had to lock up his house which he built after so many days, and at the expense of so much money. Thus pa.s.sed six months.

In that town there lived a poor beggar Brahmin. He was in extreme poverty, and spent a great portion of the day in begging from house to house his meal and clothes. He had, poor man, seven children. With this large family he was constantly in the greatest misery. He had not a proper house to live in. A miserable hut was all his wealth in that village. Winter was approaching, and the roof of their only hut began to fall down. The increasing miseries made the poor Brahmin resolve upon suicide. He could not bring himself to do that by his own hand. He had heard of the haunted house, and resolved to go there with all his family and perish by the hands of the devils. This was his secret intention, but he never spoke of it to any one. One day he came to the rich Brahmin who was the owner of the haunted mansion, and spoke to him thus:--

"My n.o.ble lord! The winter is approaching and the roof of my hut has fallen away. If you would kindly allow it I shall pa.s.s the rainy days in your big house."

When the rich man heard this he was very glad to see that one person at least there was in his little world who wanted the use of his house. So, without hesitating any longer, he replied:--

"My most holy sir, you can have the free use of that whole house for whatever time you may want it. It is enough if you light a lamp there and live happily. I built it, and I am not destined to live there. You can go and try your fortune there."

So said the rich landlord, and gave the key of that haunted house to the poor Brahmin. The latter took it, and with his family went and lived there from that day. That very night he also heard the same voice: "Shall I fall down?" "Shall I fall down?" twice. Nothing daunted, and quite resolved to perish with his wife and children, who were sound asleep near him, he exclaimed, "Fall down," and lo! a golden river of mohurs and paG.o.das began to fall down in the middle of the room from the top of the roof. It began falling and falling without any stopping till the poor Brahmin, who sat agape with wonder, began to fear that they would all be buried in mohurs. The moment he saw the sea of wealth before him, his idea of suicide abandoned him. "Stop please," said he at once, and the mohur-fall came to a sudden stop. He was delighted at the good nature of the devil, or whatever good spirit might have taken possession of the house, for its having given him so much wealth. He heaped up all the mohurs in one room, and locked it up, and had the key of it in his own possession. His wife and children got up during the mohur-fall. They also were informed of everything. The poor Brahmin advised his wife and children to keep the matter secret, and they, to their great credit, did so. They all--the poor parents and children--rejoiced at the good fortune that had made its visit to them.

As soon as morning dawned the poor Brahmin converted little by little his mohurs into money and bought grains and clothes for his family. This he did day by day till rumour began to spread that the poor Brahmin had found a treasure-trove in the rich landlord's house. Of course this rumour reached the ears of the wealthy man also. He came to the poor Brahmin and asked him all about the treasure-trove. The latter to his great honour related to the landlord every bit of the mohur-fall. He also wished to witness it and sleep in the room with the poor Brahmin, for the first time in his life, his thirst for mohurs inducing him to do so. At about midnight "Shall I fall down?" was again heard.

"Fall down" said the poor Brahmin, and lo! the mohurs began to descend like a water-fall. But, horror of horrors, they all appeared as so many scorpions to the house-owner. The poor man was heaping up the gold coins, but all of them seemed to crawl as so many scorpions to the eyes of the landlord.

"Stop please," said the poor man, and the mohur-fall stopped.

Then turning to the house-owner, the poor man said: "My lord, you may take home this heap for your use."

The house-owner began to weep and said: "Most fortunate of mankind, I have heard my old father often repeat a proverb, 'To the fortunate fortune comes,' and its meaning I have discovered to-day only. I built the house and ran away when I heard the 'shall I fall.' No doubt I did very well, for had I remained a scorpion torrent would have sent me to the other world. Know then my most fortunate friend, that I see all your mohurs as so many scorpions. I have not the fortune to see them as mohurs. But you have that gift. So from this moment this house is yours. Whatever you can convert into money of your mohurs I shall receive and bless you."

So saying the house-owner came out of the room fearing the scorpions. And our poor man thus had all the fortune to himself, and was no longer a poor man. He soon became one of the wealthiest of men of his time, but remembering that he owed all his riches to the wealthy landlord who gave him the house, he used to share with the latter half of his wealth every year.

This story explains the Tamil proverb Madrishtam ullavanukku kidaikk.u.m; to the fortunate good fortune.

N.B.--This story was also related to me by my step-mother whose birth-place is a village in the Trichinopoly district.

N. S.

XXIV.

RETALIATION--PALIKKUPPALI.

There is a proverb in Tamil called Palikkuppali vangukiradu which would best be translated by the expression "t.i.t for tat," and the following story I heard when a boy from my step-mother, ill.u.s.trating that proverb, and I have of late found the same story also in the Trichinopoly districts.

In a certain village there lived a poor Sudra. He had made a vow to the G.o.ddess of his village, that if he came out successfully in a certain undertaking he would offer her a couple of goats. And he succeeded in his undertaking, and thought that his G.o.ddess alone had granted his request. Great was his joy and greater became his faith in her extraordinary powers. And as he promised he brought two fat goats and sacrificed them to her.

These goats thus sacrificed and the Sudra sacrificer who meanwhile had died by a sudden fever, after a short time were all re-born in the world to undergo the results of their goodness or sin. The two goats, because they were sacrificed to the G.o.ddess, were re-born as the king and the minister of a large country. The Sudra, as he had as much faith in his former life as in his G.o.ddess, was reborn in the priest's (gurukkula) caste, of course neither the king and his minister nor the priest had any reason to know their former life, until the death of the latter approached, as we shall presently see. A large kingdom fell to the share of the king, and he with his minister reigned over it most peacefully. In an unfrequented wilderness was a famous temple of a powerful G.o.ddess of of that country, and in that paG.o.da the priest regularly conducted her worship.

Thus pa.s.sed several years, the king and minister happy in their own kingdom, and the priest executing his religious duties in the wilderness. The priest was leading a most calm and holy life, eating what grew in the wilderness. His life was as pure as pure can be.

But for all that fate would not forgive him for his acts in his former life.

The king and the minister had vowed to the G.o.ddess of the wilderness that if they returned successfully from the conquest of an enemy of theirs they would offer her some human sacrifice. And so they returned, and to make entire their vow to the G.o.ddess they left their kingdom like ordinary men and came to the wood. All along the way they searched for a person to sacrifice, but no one--fortunately for him--was to be found. They still thought that the vow must not be left unaccomplished, and resolved upon catching the priest of the temple and offering him up as their intended sacrifice. When such strong people like the king and his minister resolved to do so, what could the poor priest do? He was quite unable to escape when those two informed him of what they were going to do with him on his entering to worship the G.o.ddess. Said the priest:--

"Sirs! You have come here resolved upon offering me up as a sacrifice to the G.o.ddess. I cannot hereafter escape your hold. But if you would allow me to perform my puja to the G.o.ddess this morning also, I shall gladly die after having done my duty."

So said the priest, and the king and the minister watched at the entrance and let him in.

The priest went into the Garbhagriha--the holy of the holies in the temple, and performed his worship to the G.o.ddess. After that was over he gave the image a severe blow on its back and thus addressed it:--

"Most merciless G.o.ddess. What have you done for all my faith in you. In this lonely wilderness, without knowing any other duty than your worship, I had been your true servant for the past many years. And in reward for all that, I must fall now a prey to the sacrifice of the king and the minister who are sharpening their knives outside to cut off my head at this moment. Is this the result of all my puja (worship) to you."

So spake the priest, and the G.o.ddess, laughing, thus replied from the vacuum:--

"My true priest. Your acts in your former life must trouble you in this. And the charitable acts of this life, even, cannot protect you in your next birth. In your former birth you had murdered two goats. They were born as king and minister, and have dragged you here to murder you. But this--the murder you are to undergo soon, by these hands will relieve you only of one of the two murders of your former life. And for the other murder you and they would be re-born again, and again they would kill you. So in your next third life from this one you would enjoy the fruits of all this devotion. Since now you know the story of your former life, you will forgive me, I think."

Thus spoke the G.o.ddess, and the priest, as the knowledge of his former life dawned upon him, by the grace of the G.o.ddess, seemed resolved to die, in order to pay for his former sin. But the idea that in the next life he was to undergo the same punishment, vexed him much, and falling down at the G.o.ddess's feet, he respectfully requested her to try her best to let him off the next life; and the G.o.ddess's heart was also moved at the severity of fate which would make her devotee pa.s.s through one more life in misery before he enjoyed the fruits of his devotion. So she devised the following plan to exculpate him from his two crimes at the same time, and thus replied:--

"Priest! 'Intelligence can conquer even Fate,' is the proverb. When Kali gave 500 years' life to Vikramaditya in his town, Bhatti, his minister, by making the king live six months in his capital and six months in the jungle, made his master's life to last for 1000 years. So by intelligence we conquer our fate too, sometimes. So hear my advice. Ask the king who has come to murder you to hold one end of the knife, and request his minister to hold the other end. Ask both of them to aim the blow at your neck; that will accomplish everything complete during this life. They will have no revenge to take from you in your next life."

So saying, the voice of the G.o.ddess stopped. The priest came back with a cheerful heart to the king and the minister, and asked them to oblige him by each of them holding one end of the knife and murdering him. They agreed, and performed thus their vow. The poor priest, too, without having another miserable life, was born a king in his next life, and lived in prosperity.

Here the story ends, and the story-teller in the Hindu household, and in my case my stepmother, would at once moralise, that if we did anything to any one in this life, that one would pay us out for it in our next life.

N.B.--I am led to think that this story does not contain a purely Hindu moral.