Mortal and Immortal Love: the Wedding of Damayanti and the Clones of Nala

नारायणं नमस्कृत्य नरं चैव नरोत्तमम्

 देवीं सरस्वतीं चैव ततो जयम् उदीरयेत्

महाभरत

Mahābharata

As retold by

Michael Dolan, B.V. Mahāyogi

Nala and Damayanti

Damayanti and the Golden Swan

As quickly as Nala had appeared, he disappeared in the night. And by and by the appointed hour came.

The svayamvara of Damayanti was held at the sacred hour of the holy lunar day. Kings and princes rode forth ready to compete in mortal combat. The suitors came fro far and wide. Some were richly dressed with silk robes, garlands, gold and jeweled earrings. Others wore helmets, chain-mail, and swords. These were robust nobles arms as strong as iron battle-maces.  Their piercing eyes were like those of vipers. Rich, poweful, and handsome, these well-made men made their entrance like hungry lions eager for the chase, their strong jaws framed with brilliant locks of golden hair. There were noble heads with fine noses and the eyes and brows of kings. These princes and fierce warriors had come from far-off lands eager to find a bride in Damayanti the fair. As they joined the assembly they were given sitting places according to their status; they sat on thrones of silver and gold and inlaid wood awaiting their chance to compete in arms and court the beauteous young maid whose name was on everyone’s lips. As the wide river Bhogavatī is filled with snakes, as the mountain caves of the Himalayas are filled with tigers, so the wide assembly hall was filled with  kings and princes. 

And at the appointed hour, the fair Damayanti, princess of Vidarbha made her entrance, dressed in the finest silk, crowned with a silver tiara, her sweet glances burning fire into the hearts of the warriors assembled there. Bright as the moon she dazzled the kings and princes who were stunned to their souls.

Her radiance shined like the sun as she glanced about the arena looking for her champion.  

“Where is Nala?” she thought.

But as she looked from one proud king to another, searching the face of Nala in the crowd of illustrious warriors, she could not see him anwhere.

She stood and smiled as the names of the kings were proclaimed. Each prince was named and his turn was called. Each stood and smiled, ready to challenge the others in feats of combat if necessary. 

But as their names were called, Damayanti lowered her eyes and said nothing. Bewildered by this rejection, each prince sat down again restless in his place, awaiting the final decision of this proud maiden.

 And as Damayanti looked among the throng of gathered princes, finally she saw Nala.

Nala her beloved. Nala the king of Vishadha. Nala the brave gallant who had scaled the garden wall. Nala the prince who had enchanted her 100 virgin handmaids in the pale moonlight of the ashoka grove.

But as she looked, she rubbed her eyes. There was Nala, her beloved. But instead of one Nala, there were five.

Did her eyes deceive her? Seated before her were five Nalas, each more Nala than the last. There were five identical Nalas. And finally her eyes found among those princes present a group of five individuals who all appeared exactly like Nala.

She remembered the words that Nala had spoken in the garden. 

His message: “Oh beautiful maiden of virgin grace, My name is Nala. I am here as the messenger of gods. Your beauty has enchanted the lords of heaven. The gods are enchanted by you, and you must choose between them. All of them are here to compete for your hand at your swayaṃvara. There is Indra, god of thunder, Agni, god of fire, Varuna, god of rivers, and even the lord of death, Yama himself wish.  By their mystic power I was able to enter here without alarming the guards. And so it is that I have been sent here by the gods. Now that you know that your hand is desired by the gods themselves, do what you see fit. They desire to possess you. You must choose one of them at your wedding contest.”

Gods at the swayamvara of Damayanti: Clones of Nala

Damayanti was baffled. “Choose one of them at your wedding contest.” Of course. The gods knew of her love for Nala. They knew that she had planned to choose the King o Vidarbha as her husband. The gods themselves, envious of the beauty of her beloved, were impersonating Nala. Sitting before her disguised as Nala were Indra, Agni, Vayu, and Varuna, who had taken the very form of Nala.

The crown princes of India were present, as were nobles and warriors from throughout the land. They followed the glance of Damayanti. Who were these mysterious suitors? They were perfectly alike. Which of the five suitors would she choose?

Damayanti could not tell them apart. She looked from one to another, studying their faces, but each version of Nala smiled impassively, revealing nothing with their eyes. Four of them were gods. Only one was Nala himself. If she chose a god, she would be bound to him for life. If she chose Indra, she would be queen of the heavens, consort of the lord of thunder and rain. 

But she didn’t want a heavenly kingdom, she only wanted her earthly love for Nala, her prince. 

The wide hall sat in silence. 

The name “Nala, the King of Nishadha,” was announced.

The five Nalas rose from the silver thrones where they sat and stood before her with folded hands.

Damayanti kept looking from one to another.  She prayed to Vishnu for guidance. She offered worship mentally and tried to see things more deeply. How could she choose? Four of these Nalas were copies, an illusion created by gods. One was Nala, a mere mortal. 

She thought, “I must study carefully. The gods are perfect.  Nala is imperfect. The gods are immortal. Nala is mortal.” Again she prayed to Vishnu within her heart. “ O Lord, reveal to me the imperfect form of my beloved. The gods are faultless, but he has must have some faults. Sharpen my vision. Let me see.”

All were quiet as Damayanti, trancelike, studied the five young men, each more alike than the last. 

Her eyes began to focus. She noticed that one of the five perfect men cast a shadow in the dust. Indeed the dust covered his feet. His feet stood firmly on the earth. His flower garland, so perfect at first, had faded slightly with the heat of the sun. The roses round his neck had wilted. A few petals had fallen to the ground. His eyes intent with passion were fixed, but trembled slightly. He blinked. A fine perspiration stained his brow.

She looked again from one to the other. The others were too perfect. She noticed their feet. Their perfect lotus feet floated slightly above the earth, untouched by the dust. They cast no shadow upon the earth. No dust stained their garments. She noticed the flowers of their garlands. The lotuses were perfect. The roses shed no petals, nor did they wilt. Their perfect brows showed no perspiration. She studied their lotus-like eyes. They never blinked. Their gaze was fixed and perfect. 

But one of these was mortal. His feet touched the ground. His brow strained with sweat against the noonday sun. With fading garlands, garments stained with dust, he cast a clear shadow on the ground. 

The gods had played a cruel trick by impersonating the man she loved, but one of the five suitors was definitely mortal: Her Nala. She looked at him and smiled. She would not be fooled even by the magic of the gods.

And so Damayanti, the virtuous daughter of Bhima, stepped forward and chose her champion. Smiling, she lightly took the hem of his garment in her lotus hand while  throwing the ceremonial floral garland around his shoulders. She turned before the crowd.

“This man I choose, before the gods and the assembled kings. He is Nala, King of Vidarbha.”

Many of the suitors felt cheated and cried, “No! This cannot be! Choose me!” and “Alas! This is a fraud!” While from that conclave of kings many shouted, “Hurray!” and “Well-done!” “Damayanti ki Jai!” 

Nala raised his hand for silence. And when he could be heard he said,  “O Damayanti, you might have chosen a god. You could have been queen of heaven taking one of these as your husband. I am no god, but a mere mortal. And yet with all my faults you have chosen me, in the presence of the gods. And since you have chosen a mortal for your husband, take this faithful vow: O maiden with the serene smile, I shall be yours in love as long as spirit fills this body. I say so truthfully before the gods and kings assembled here.”

With this, the gods revealed themselves : Indra, lord of the rain; Agnideva, the fire-god; Yama, Death himself, and Varuna, god of waters, lakes, and rivers. All rejoiced and were amazed. 

At that time the gods blessed Nala with eight mystic gifts: The power to see the divine in the mystic sacrifice, and the physical power of grace was given by Indra. The power to invoke fire by mantra whenever he pleased was given to Nala by Agni as well as his own fiery character. The Lord of death, Yama awarded Nala with a fine discernment and taste in the culinary arts as well as eminent virtue, a deep understanding of dharma. While Varuṇa gifted Nala with with the power to conjure water whenever and wherever needed as well as garlands of matchless fragrance. 

Each god having doubly blessed Nala and his beloved Damayanti. And having given their blessings,  the gods called for their airships. One by one, Agni, Indra, Varuna, and Yama all departed for their celestial homes.

The great king Bhima, lord of Vidarbha solemnized the nuptials with a great wedding ceremony attended by all the kings and princes present who promised to honor the decision of the gods.

And so it was that Nala and Damayanti were married.

Nala rejoiced, having won the pearl of women for his own. In due course He brought Damayanti to his home in Naishadha having received permission from her father the great king Bhima. 

And so it was that Nala and Damayanti passed their days in joy in Nala’s palace and ruled the kingdom of Vidarbha. They played at love in many a green forest and romantic woods and groves and soon Damayanti delivered him a son named Indrasena, and a daughter, also named Indrasena. Time passed and King Nala ruled the earth in riches and splendour with his queen the beautiful Damayanti.

But when the gods were returning to their heavens they an envious supernatural being, Kali. 

He was on the road to Vidarbha with Dwapara. And when the gods inquired, “Where are you going, Kali?” He replied, “I am going to Vidarbha with Dwapara to the svayamvara of Damayanti.” 

And the gods headed by Indra told him, “Haven’t you heard? The swayaṃvara  is finished. She has already chosen. She chose this mortal in front of us. Even now she is being married to Nala.”

And Kali said, “This is an outrage. How could she choose before the great Kali had arrived. For this offence, I curse her. And Nala. Damayanti is accursed and shall suffer. I shall have my revenge.”

But the gods said, “Be careful of your curses. We gods have sanctioned this union. Cursed be he that causes them any mischief.”

But Kali continued on his way with Dwapara, resolved to destroy Nala.  He spied on the wedding ceremony and saw that he was too late.  And so Kali followed them to the kingdom of Nala, determined to have his revenge.