Ambarisha

An abridged retelling from J. M. Sanyal's English translation of the Srimad Bhagavatam

King Parikshit asked the sage Shuka to tell him about Ambarisha, a king upon whom a Brahmin's curse, a curse that nothing can turn back, could not take hold. Shuka began with the king's father.

Nabhaga and the leftover wealth

Nabhaga was the youngest son of his house. When he came home from his teacher's house, his elder brothers had divided the property and set aside nothing for him but their father. Nabhaga asked his father why he had been given so strange a share. His father told him not to rely on it. The sages of the Angirasa family, he said, were performing a sacrifice, and on its sixth day they were making mistakes in the rites. Let Nabhaga go and recite two hymns to them. Once the sacrifice was complete, the sages would rise to heaven and leave him the wealth that remained.

Nabhaga did as he was told, and the sages left the remaining wealth to him. But as he went to take it, a dark-skinned man came from the north and said that all that was left on the sacrificial ground was his. Nabhaga answered that the sages themselves had given it to him. "Let your father decide between us," said the man.

Nabhaga went to his father, who said that the sages had once agreed that whatever remained on the sacrificial ground belongs to Rudra. Nabhaga returned and bowed his head before the dark man. "Your father has told you the truth," said Rudra, "and you have spoken the truth yourself. I am pleased. I give you the knowledge of Brahman, and I give you this wealth as well." Then he vanished.

Ambarisha was Nabhaga's son.

The king who owned the earth

Ambarisha ruled the whole earth with its seven islands. He had treasure beyond counting, and all of it seemed to him as unreal as things seen in a dream. People may know that riches are fleeting and still be swept away when they lose them. Ambarisha held them lightly because his mind rested on the lotus feet of Krishna.

He gave his words to the praise of Narayana, his hands to sweeping the temple of Hari, his ears to stories of Achyuta, and his eyes to seeing the images of Mukunda. His limbs were glad to touch the servants of the Lord, and his nose to smell the tulasi leaves offered at the Lord's feet. His feet carried him to the places where Hari is worshipped, and his head bowed to Hrishikesha. Garlands, perfumes and the pleasures of the court he used not for his own enjoyment but as the offerings of devotion. He ruled by the counsel of the Brahmins who loved the Lord.

On the banks of the Sarasvati he performed the horse sacrifice, with sages such as Vasishtha, Asita and Gautama to conduct it. The priests and attendants were dressed in fine cloth and jewels and shone like the gods. His subjects, hearing and singing the praise of the Lord, did not even long for the heaven of the gods.

By devotion and austerity the king grew indifferent to houses, wives, sons, friends, elephants, chariots, horses and treasuries that could never be exhausted. His queen shared his nature. Together they kept for one full year the vow of Dvadashi, the twelfth day, in worship of Krishna.

The end of the vow

At the close of the year, in the month of Kartika, the king fasted for three days. He bathed in the Yamuna, and in the forest of Madhuvana he worshipped Keshava with garments, ornaments and garlands. He gave to the Brahmins sixty crores of cows, young and gentle, with their horns sheathed in gold and their hooves in silver, each with a calf and draped in fine cloth. He fed the Brahmins rich food until they were satisfied, and when they gave him leave, he prepared to break his fast.

At that moment the sage Durvasa came to his door as a guest.

Ambarisha rose, offered him a seat and the honours due to a guest, and bowed at his feet. He asked the sage to take his meal there. Durvasa agreed, and went to the river to perform his midday rites. He sat in meditation on Brahman and plunged into the waters of the Yamuna.

Only half a moment of Dvadashi remained. If the king did not break his fast in time, the vow would be lost; if he ate before his guest returned, he would wrong a Brahmin. He turned to the Brahmins and asked them what could be done so that no sin would touch him. Taking water, he thought, was both eating and not eating, and the Brahmins had said so. He sipped water, speaking the name of Achyuta, and then waited for the sage.

The sage's anger

Durvasa came back from the river, and the king bowed to him. By the power of his austerities, he knew at once what had happened. He began to shake with anger, his brows knitted, his face grew harsh, and hunger burned in him. To the king standing before him with folded hands he said: "See the arrogance of this cruel king, drunk on wealth, who thinks himself a god and has no devotion to Vishnu! He invited me as his guest and has eaten before feeding me. Wait, you wicked man, and I will show you the fruit of your deed."

In his rage he tore out a lock of his matted hair, and it became a discus as terrible as the fire at the end of the world, and he hurled it at the king.

Ambarisha did not stir from the place where he stood. He saw the blazing thing coming toward him, shaking the earth with its force. But the Lord had set his own discus to guard his devotee, and it came down like fire on a serpent. It consumed the sage's creation, and then it turned upon the sage.

Across the worlds

Durvasa saw that his own power had failed, and he ran. He fled in every direction, into the sky and the earth, into caves and the oceans, to the guardians of the quarters and to heaven itself. Wherever he went, he saw the dreadful Sudarshana close behind him. At last, having found no refuge, he came to Brahma. "Save me," he cried, "from the discus of the Lord."

Brahma answered that when the Lord's dance of creation comes to its end, in the blink of an eye this world and all the worlds will vanish. He and Shiva, Daksha, Bhrigu and the rest of the lords of creation carry out the laws the Lord has given them. "You have tried to harm his devotee," he said. "That is not within my power to undo."

So Durvasa went to Shiva on Kailasa. Shiva told him that he and Brahma, the Kumaras, Narada, Kapila and all the wise are only moving within the Lord's play, and that none of them could stand against the discus. "Seek his shelter," Shiva said, "and Hari will bless you."

Burning, trembling, Durvasa came at last to Vaikuntha and fell at the feet of Vishnu. "I have sinned," he said. "I did not know your power and I have wronged your devotee. You whose name frees even those in hell, wipe my sin away."

The Lord answered: "I am a servant of my servants. My heart is in the hands of those who love me. I do not love my own self, or Lakshmi herself, as I love them. They have given up home, children, kin, wealth and even the thought of themselves, and come to me. How could I give them up? They have bound me with their love as a good wife binds her husband. They do not ask even for liberation, so what would they ask of riches that must pass? The good are my heart, and I am the heart of the good. They know nothing but me, and I know nothing apart from them. Go to Ambarisha, brahmin, against whom this fury was spent. Asceticism and learning are meant for a Brahmin's freedom, but in the wrong hands they bring the opposite. Make Ambarisha forgive you. Then you will have peace."

The king's forgiveness

Durvasa, harried by the discus, came back to Ambarisha and took hold of his feet. The king was ashamed to see the sage in such a state, and his heart was moved with compassion. He turned to the Lord's discus and praised it: "You are fire, you are the sun, you are the moon, the waters, the earth, the air and the sky. You are the truth and the nectar of immortality. You are the sacrifice and the one who consumes it. I bow to you, thousand-spoked, beloved of Vishnu, destroyer of weapons. Be gracious to this Brahmin. If anything I have given has been rightly given, if I have kept my own duties, and if the Lord has been pleased by my seeing him in every creature, then let Durvasa be free of danger."

The discus, having been honoured by the king, grew calm.

Durvasa's mind grew peaceful. He blessed the king and praised him. "Today I have seen the glory of the servants of the Lord," he said. "I wronged you, and you strove for my good. What is difficult for the great-hearted who have won Hari, whose very name purifies like a holy place? You have saved my life, ignoring my wish to harm you."

Ambarisha, who had been fasting all this time to wait for the sage, fed Durvasa first, holding his feet. The sage ate with delight and said: "King, now eat yourself. I am greatly pleased by your hospitality, and by meeting and touching one who is a devotee of the Lord I have gained knowledge of the Self. The women of heaven will sing of this deed, and all the world will praise it."

Then Durvasa, well pleased, went on his way through the sky to Brahmaloka.

The long wait

After the sage had gone, Ambarisha lived on water alone for a full year, wishing to see him again. When Durvasa came back, the king ate what remained of the Brahmins' food, which was holy. He thought of the sage's plight and of how it had ended, and he considered his own power and the power of the infinite Hari. Having thought it over, he went on serving Vasudeva with every deed and every rite, and he came to know the Self, and he held every pleasure that is apart from the Lord as no better than hell.

In time Ambarisha gave the kingdom to his son, who shared his nature, and went to the forest to rest his mind wholly on Vasudeva, the soul of the universe.

Shuka said that those who listen to this story of Ambarisha, or tell it, become devoted to Vishnu.