Mother of India

Shakuntala

In the forest ashram of the sage Kanva, the girls were gossiping.

“Brahmacharya?”

“Yes, silly, that’s when you give up women. Anyway, there he was on the banks of the Ganges practicing yoga and the gods decided to break his vow.”

“Why would they do such a thing?”

“Vishvamitra was becoming too powerful. If they didn’t break his vow he would become as powerful as the gods.”

“How did they break his vow?”

“They sent the most beautiful of all the river nymphs, the delicate Menaka. Her beauty was reknowned amongst the gods. No man could resist. Vishvamitra was sitting there, practicing his yoga. To disturb his concentration, Menaka the water nymph came to the banks of the Ganges and began to bathe in a fine silk sari, smiling all the time at the sage.”

Temptation of Vishvamitra Muni by Menaka

“What happened, Priyamvada? What happened then?”

Just as Priyamvada was about to finish her story about Shakuntala’s mother, the fair Shakuntala herself, appeared in the mango grove carrying a clay water pot on her head. Her bare feet barely touched the ground as she walked, so delicate was she, as beautiful and graceful as the first lotus flower of spring.

Ladies at Kanva's ashrama with Shakuntala

As she joined her friends, Shakuntala said, “Am I interrupting anything?” She smiled, her bee-black hair shining in the afternoon sun.

Her dear friends and fellow inmates of the ashram, Anasuya and Priyamvada giggled. "No, we were just talking,"

And joyful in springtime, they went about their duties, watering the papaya plants.

Observing them through the green leaves of the tamarind trees was Dushyant the descendant of Puru. He now smiled to himself in the shadow of the mango tree. The ashram of Kanva was the ideal place for the contemplation of peace and the harmonies of the universe. Now, it was time for him to make his entrance.

He made a great noise as if he had just arrived through the tamarind trees. King Dushyant walked up the path to the clearing in the mango grove.  The jasmine flowers made the air heavy with their fragrance. Moving with an exuberant royal swagger he called out, “Hello! Is anyone here?, O Kanva! Is this the ashram of the great saint Kanva?”

King Dushyant makes his entrance.

“Kanva is not here,” the ladies answered. “He has gone on pilgrimage. Who is there?”

Not wanting to reveal himself as the king and royal liege of the forest, Dushyant replied,

“I am a but humble officer of the king. He was hunting and came upon the fawn of the ashram here, a spotted deer. He spared its life from his voracious arrows and sent me here to salute the great saint. However, if Kanva is not here...”

Sage Kanva leaving the ashram.

“You are welcome,” said Priyamvada. “If you have protected the life of our fawn, then you are as welcome as any saint. Please stay and honour our prasadam. It is humble but will bless you with long life, as the food here is sacred.”

Shakuntala with fawn

“I agree. I thank you and salute you all. When will the sage Kanva return?”

“We expect he will return before the ceremony tomorrow. Stay with us a while and allow us to offer you our hospitality,” said Anasuya, smiling. As the bees plucked honey from the yellow orchids near the mango tree, King Dushyant noticed the elegant young girl who shyly watered the papaya plants and kept her distance. Following his glance, Priyamvada smiled and said, “Allow me to introduce Shakuntala. Shakuntala, don’t keep our visitor waiting, bring him water and a sitting place of the finest kusha straw.”

The fair and shy Shakuntala didn’t raise her eyes or look directly at the king.  She went to fetch more water with the clay pot that he held on her head. Her hips swayed gently as she left for the river by the holy bathing ghat.

Shakuntala fetching water

“Shakuntala is shy,” Priyamvada said. “Tell us, where is our fawn? Did you frighten him away?” King Dushyant told the story of the hunt, but changed it making himself the charioteer.

“So where is our king?” she said eagerly.

“The king has returned to his entourage deeper in the woods. I left the chariot and horses not far from here, to rest and take water. Soon I must return. Give my respect to the saint who attends you all so well in this ashram.”

In a few minutes Shakuntala returned with water and sitting places for all. 

Dushyant and Shakuntala

The sun had begun its climb into the heavens and the heat of the day began in earnest. So they sat under the welcoming shade of tamarind and mango trees by the papaya garden while the honey-bees busied themselves dancing amongst the champak flowers while kokil birds gave their afternoon concert. There in the comforting shade Shakuntala, Priyamvada, and Anasuya drank cool refreshing drinks of rosewater and mint with the king as the ladies described the mission of Kanva and his teachings.

As the sun grew even warmer and more time passed, Priyamvada and Anasuya detected a certain affection between the king and Shakuntala. Smiling to herself Priyamvada said, “You must excuse us now, for we have many duties to perform and the sun is sitting low on the horizon. Come Anasuya. Let the fair Shakuntala explain the precepts of our guide Kanva to the king’s officer.”

“I too have many duties to perform,” protested Shakuntala,  her face at once turning red as a rose.

“We must not violate the principles of hospitality,” said Priyamvada, with a firm smile. “You stay here with the king and explain the holy nature of this refuge in the forest. We shall return shortly.”

So they sat together, Shakuntala and King Dushyant and as the sun went down they laughed and talked of everything. 

The king was lost in her company and felt he had never been so charmed before in his life as when he saw the deep eyes and bee-black hair of the shy but charming Shakuntala. As the sun finished its glorious arc, the first star appeared on the horizon. The kokil birds once again took up the song they had left in the morning and began their vespertine concert. Just as Dushyant and Shakuntala were becoming even closer in thought and feeling,  they heard a terrible noise. Something was thrashing through the jungle, upsetting trees and animals.

A terrific trumpeting noise alarmed the birds who flew away. A enraged male elephant was rampaging through the grove, missing his mate. Priyamvada and Anasuya came running back to the place where Shakuntala and Dushyant sat.  They were in a panic. With them was Gautami, the matron of the ashram. “The elephant is mad! He may attack at any minute,” said Gautami. “We must run or take shelter. He may destroy the bamboo hut of Kanva. Hurry!”

Mad elephant charge

Everyone was afraid of the great bull elephant who rampaged through the forest overturning trees. Rising to his feet, the great King Dushyant touched the sharp sword on his left hip with his right hand and assuaged the ladies there. “By the power of my right hand, I shall defend you and the ashram of Kanva. Wait behind those trees.” He said.

 The ladies hid behind the tall mango tree and prayed to Vishnu for protection from the beast who ran through the forest.

Vishnu