Abandoned...

नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्

 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्

महाभरत

Mahābharata

As retold by

Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi

Nala and Damayanti

Nola leaves Damayanti

Nala Deserts Damayanti

Wild boars slept in the bushes. Even the bears, stags, and other wild creatures that often roamed those woods lay dormant. Damayanti slept quietly, nestled in the arms of Nala, with a root for a pillow with the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine as her perfume.

Kali was a demonic spirit. And devils never rest. The spell of Kali was on Nala, who could not sleep. Flying insects stung his face and hands in the dark.  His skin burned, but his conscience burned even more. How had he lost everything? Why was he exiled, when his brother now ruled his kingdom. He burned for revenge. The croaking of frogs and chirping of crickets disturbed his sleep. He tossed and turned. The spirit of Kali would not let him rest. 

And while Damayanti slept on the cold earth, Nala was tormented in his mind by the spirit of Kali. He burned with anger and sorrow. He burned for his lost kingdom and the friends who had so quickly deserted him. Hungry and exhausted, he awoke. 

Sitting up, he felt he was no longer naked. His wife had torn her cloth, giving him half her garment. He bound the cloth around his thighs and glanced about him. As he looked around in the darkness, he could barely make out the forest path. It was West to Vidarbha, through the valleys of the Vindhya mountains. East led deeper into the gloomy forest. His head burned with anger. His entrails burned with hunger and thirst. “What next?” he thought.

Now the spirit of Kali who dwelled within Nala consumed him and inspired him with dark thoughts. “I must go,” Nala thought, “Better for me to leave this place and take the path into the forest. Damayanti will find her way home. If she stays with me in exile it will only be worse for her. Why did I let her follow me?”

He heard a sound. A wild boar passing in the forest? Food. He could hunt. He arose, half-clad, and moved towards the sound. Nothing.

Nala looked at his wife sleeping peacefully. “What if I leave now?” He thought. “Better to go now. She won’t listen to my arguments. She will follow me to my death in exile. It would be selfish of me to allow her to die of starvation here in the forest.”

The sky was gray now; the first light would not be long. Damayanti would awaken. He was resolved to meet his fate in the forest. Return to Vidarbha would only mean public humiliation. Sooner or later Pushkar’s men would hunt him down like an animal. Without allies he was lost. But Damayanti could survive alone. She could go to Vidarbha and live with their children and King Bhima would protect them. Nala took a few steps into the forest.

Nala looked down the path before him. Soon the creatures of the woods would stir. The tigers who roamed the night would awaken their cousins who roam at day. Together they would seek their prey along with bears, wild boars, and other strange animals. And hunger and thirst would diminish their chances of survival. 

“But  which is worse?” he thought,  “To die in exile, abandoned, or to abandon the one I love? How can I abandon the only person who stood by me in shame and exile? She is so devoted to me that she would suffer shame and injury, even death to follow me into oblivion. How can I leave her?”

Possessed by the ghost of the demon Kali, Nala could not think clearly. He reasoned, “Still, even if she hates me, she loves our children. She will seek out her father in Vidarbha. The gods will protect her.  At my side, she is cursed; without me, she may yet survive. Her only chance at survival is if I leave her. The gods wooed her once. They may yet protect her.”

He took a few steps down the path, then turned for a last look at his beloved. His soul was twisted by the influence of Kali. Surely it was a sin to abandon his wife to her destiny in the forest, he thought as his head ached. “And yet, bereft of me, while she shall surely lament, she will no doubt find her father in Vidarbha. As for me, I am doomed to die here. Better for both of us if I go.”

In this way, that wretched king agonized over his decision. “She is my loyal and devoted wife. She defied the gods to choose me and give me the wedding garland. She has great power. Her virtue is so great that none dare harm her, even in this lonely forest.”

Nala’s perverted thought could find no other reasons than those given him by the wicked Kali.  And so by Kali’s influence he left her.

He walked back up the path to where Damayanti lay, sheltered by the Banyan’s roots. And brushing aside a spray of night-blooming jasmine that sheltered her forehead with its fragrance, he kissed her gentle brow. And just beneath his breath Nala said, “Farewell my love. Farewell my faithful. O blessed wife: you who neither sun nor wind has ever marred; whose grace and beauty never fades: you lay sleeping on the cold hard earth for my sins. Half-clad for you have given me half your garment, you have followed me into cruel exile. Go you now to your father. Tell him how unfit I was to father your children. Go and live in peace. Follow me no further into the dark forest, but take the path to Vidarbha.  May the sun and the wind protect you. May the gods who once wooed you as a maiden protect you now as the mother of my children. As you are always chaste, may your virtue protect you now from this savage forest where wild beasts and serpents dwell.”

On bended knee, he leaned over the sleeping Damayanti, smelled her fragrant hair again kissed her on the forehead. Then standing up straight, he walked away.

Leaving that noble Banyan tree with its generous, sheltering roots behind him, Nala began on the path into the depths of the dark woods, bereft of sense, bewildered by the influence of Kali.

And taking two steps forward on the path, he stopped and took a step back. His love for the chaste and virtuous Damayanti dragged him back, but the madness born of the demon Kali once again possessed him and he took the path into darkness, reft of sense. And as he staggered away into the forest, the kokil birds who were awakening to the dawn heard the frantic king moaning in misery as he deserted the sleeping Damayanti. 

Gradually the sun’s rays entered the bower where Damayanti slept in the arms of the old banyan tree. And as the gentle warmth spread through the forest floor, Damayanti awoke, refreshed from her slumber. And yet when she awoke and found that Nala had gone Damayanti was surprised. “Nala?” she said.

“He must have gone to collect fresh herbs and fruits,” she thought. “Nala?” But the forest was silent.