that confident, fearless, innocent child?
I shall not today go near a fire to catch the sparks. I now know that fire burns. I shall not confide my secret to any bud. I am conscious that it will open and perish the day after!
Is knowledge a curse or a blessing bestowed on man? Is youth which comes to all living beings a blessing or a curse? Youth is the first step towards old age. And death is the last step. How can it be youth if it lures old age? It is a terrible curse!
When the word ‘curse’ thus somehow came to mind, I remembered Father’s last words, ‘Nahusha and his children will never be happy.’ I felt that someone was ever writing these words in the interstellar space in burning letters.
That curse had partly come true. Father was not happy. There was his last struggle, he was unable to even see the memento of his unique victory.
Father had in his arrogance kicked Rishi Agastya. He in turn had quite rightly pronounced a curse. But what had we children done to offend him? I was not even born then. And even so, is the curse going to haunt me like a ghost all my life?
What has destiny in store for me? Is it possible that I will not be happy even after my enthronement?
I had come to a strangely inert state of mind. I was not inclined to talk to anyone, eat or drink but just lay down quietly. Mother had noticed it and one day asked if I was ailing. She said, ‘Your maid Mukulika came from Ashokavanyesterday. She is very sweet and clever. I would like to bring her to the palace. She was saying, “The Prince is very uncommunicative. He will not openly ask for anything that he wants.” Shall I send for her today to attend on you?’
‘Mukulika is silly and perhaps you are even more so. Truly, Mother, I have lost interest in everything. I feel like renouncing all this grandeur and ...’
Mother looked petrified. She held me by the hand and said, ‘Yayu, do you remember your promise to me?’
To humour her I said, ‘As a child I made promises to you everyday. So many of them are now crowding my mind that I do not clearly remember any of them.’
‘You have all along been wily. When you are cornered ...’
For a moment, I wished to tell her of Yati and press her to go to him and prevail upon him with her love to come back, adding, ‘He is the elder brother. Let him be king. I am dejected. I do not want the throne ... in fact nothing.’
Even if she went in search of him he was unlikely to return, inspite of her tears. It is easy to tame a lion or a tiger but not an obstinate ascetic like Yati — I wonder how his life is going to end. Will his path lead him to the pinnacle — realisation of God in person? If he gets to his goal, the whole world will be all admiration for him. He will be acclaimed as a great ascetic. But what if his foot slips while on that difficult ascent up the snowbound hills of renunciation. If the snow suddenly thaws he will be drowned in the avalanche.
Mother said, ‘You are very obstinate. You can hardly help it. It runs in your family. Now of course, added to your obstinacy as a child, is the obstinacy of a King. I can also exercise my rights as the King’s mother. Yayu, shall I tell you why you are dejected?’
After all, a mother’s heart bleeds even at the simple prick of a thorn in her child’s foot and it brings tears to her eyes. It was no wonder then, that my mother was concerned about my strange behaviour.
In order to change the topic, I said, ‘Mother, I know you are loving but your penetrating vision ...’
‘This is knowledge which comes with experience and age, son! I was also your age once and haven’t forgotten what it felt like then.’ She obviously felt I needed to marry a princess of my choice to regain my good cheer.
Mother left to fix a date for the coronation. She was smiling. Her last words should have struck a happy note in my mind. I was King of Hastinapur, but I kept thinking of Mother. I had often been greatly troubled by the thought that