The Daughter from a Wishing Tree Read online

  Meanwhile, Vasavadatta decided to see the bride from a distance. Everybody was busy getting her ready.

  A lady-in-waiting saw Vasavadatta and mistook her for a flower woman. ‘Make two garlands for the wedding,’ they instructed her and ordered her to sit down to complete the task as soon as possible. Vasavadatta began making two garlands for her husband’s wedding using her unusual technique of making garlands called koutukamala. Her sadness grew deeper with the completion of each garland, and she couldn’t hold back her tears by the time she was done.

  During the wedding ceremony, the garlands were exchanged, and the couple was officially married.

  Vasavadatta stood behind a curtain, her eyes brimming with tears.

  Udayana traced his fingers along the garland around his neck. He realized something and said aloud, ‘This garland surely has Vasavadatta’s touch. No one else can do this because I was the one to teach her koutukamala. She is alive, I am sure, and now, I want to see her desperately.’

  Yaugandharayana came forward and said, ‘Sire, it was all my doing. Please pardon me. The queen is indeed alive and well and agreed to do what she did to save the kingdom from invasion. Please forgive both of us.’

  As the minister finished, Vasavadatta emerged from behind the curtain. When the king saw her, his happiness knew no bounds, and he pardoned his well-meaning minister.

  The new bride, Padmavati, approached Vasavadatta and bowed to her, accepting her as a sister.

  With renewed understanding and wisdom, Udayana lived with the two queens happily ever after.

  This well-known drama in Sanskrit literature is considered to be a gem of the language. The pure affection between Vasavadatta and Udayana was used as an inspiration for future literature in Sanskrit.

  The Forgotten Wife

  Vachaspati Mishra, a man of outstanding academic calibre, was born in the Mithila region of Magadha (today’s Bihar) sometime between 900 and 980 CE. His single mother, Vatsala, faced a lot of hardship while raising him.

  When Vachaspati became a young man, she thought about getting him married. Soon, she found a young bride for him from the neighbouring village and spoke to her son about her.

  ‘My sole purpose is to write a bhashya, a commentary, on Vedanta Sutras or Brahma Sutras. The scriptures are very important and dear to me, and the commentary will be my service to the country,’ Vachaspati said to his mother. ‘Once I start writing a bhashya, I will be immersed in it and won’t be able to perform the duties of a husband or a father. You know that, Mother. Please convey this to the bride’s side. But tell me, Amma, after hearing all this, do you still want me to get married?’

  Vatsala was surprised by her son’s decision. She felt that it was futile for him to get married and ruin a girl’s life. Hesitantly, she shared her son’s opinion with the bride’s father. Everyone was shocked. The girl’s father appreciated Vachaspati’s frankness, humility and honesty, and he asked his daughter for her opinion. The young girl said, ‘I will marry him and abide by his condition.’

  Vachaspati was glad. He realized that the girl must be special because she had chosen him despite knowing what difficulties lay ahead of her.

  The couple was wed on the auspicious day of Vyasa Purnima. It was also the most wonderful time for him to start writing a bhashya. The moment he reached home after the wedding, he sat in the veranda and began writing. Days turned into nights. His mother, Vatsala, brought him whatever he wanted, while his wife observed.

  Months, seasons and years passed, and Vachaspati remained focused on his work. After a few years, his mother died. Now, his wife took over the care for her husband, who had very few physical needs—a bath, food and a few hours of sleep.

  For years, she served him without any expectation while staying out of his sight. The palm leaves he wrote on were always at hand, the lamp was well oiled for the night, his clothes were washed, fresh food was always served on time and he was never disturbed while he worked. Vachaspati never thought about how well looked after he was.

  One night, he finally completed his commentary. Vachaspati put his pen down and stood up. He was in ecstasy! At last, his life’s work was done.

  In the dim light, he saw an old woman sleeping in the corner of the room.

  At the slight noise, she stirred from her sleep.

  Vachaspati asked her, ‘Old lady, who are you? What are you doing in my room at this time?’

  ‘I am your wife. You married me decades ago. All this time, you have been so busy writing that I never disturbed you.’

  Vachaspati was stunned. He vaguely remembered his beautiful young bride, who was now apparently this old woman. Had so much time truly passed? Then he saw his reflection in an oil pot and almost didn’t recognize himself—it was the face of an elderly man.

  Vachaspati went to his wife and saw her hands. He recalled that they were the same ones that would come near him to serve his food and fill the oil in his lamp. He was familiar with the hands, but not her face. Tears began flowing down his cheeks. ‘I have been unfair to you. I have not fulfilled any of my duties towards you, but you have. I am fortunate to have a woman like you who has given me so much unconditional love, been patient with me and treated me with a large heart. You are truly exceptional. May I know your name?’

  The old woman smiled. She said, ‘I accepted your condition and got married to you, dear husband. I know that when you have achieved such great heights in philosophy, you will need someone to look after you with kindness and affection, and I have done all that I could. My name is Bhamati.’

  Vachaspati nodded at her and went back to his desk.

  He took the quill and opened to the first page of his finished bhashya. It had been kept vacant for a suitable title. He wrote with his trembling hand—Bhamati.

  Vachaspati turned to his wife and said, ‘I have named this work after you. Whoever reads this may or may not remember me, but they will definitely remember you. Behind every great work of a man, there always exists the unconditional love from a woman who deserves more recognition than the man himself. You will be the best example in history to convey to the world that women are much greater than these works.’

  In the present times, we don’t know much about Vachaspati Mishra, but everybody knows about the Bhamati school of Advaita Vedanta. Today, Bhamati’s name remains synonymous with great patience and unconditional love.

  THE BEGINNING

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  This collection published 2019

  Copyright © Sudha Murty 2019

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  Jacket images © Neelima P Aryan

  This digital edition published in 2019.

  e-ISBN: 978-9-353-05693-3

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