Verse 4

In plain words

27. The Arrival of Śuka Maharṣi Some of the munis who were listening to the king's words could not bear it, and said: "That ṛṣi's son may be a ṛṣi's son in name alone. Had he truly been a ṛṣi's son, would he hand down so terrible a curse for so small an offence? He may simply be ignorant, or deranged. How can the words of such a one come true? No harm whatever will come to you. You need not grieve." Each of them spoke in his own way, making light of the curse. Hearing what they were saying, the Mahārāja joined his palms and said, "O great noble souls! You speak like this out of the compassion and grace you bear toward me, but my offence is by no means an ordinary one. Surely there is no sin more terrible than insulting the great! And when I myself, who as sovereign ought to seek their welfare and security, have committed this sinful deed, it cannot be forgiven. Truly, what that sage's son gave is not a curse at all — to me it is a great boon. How so? I had fallen into this mire of sin that is kingship; deluded that enjoyments alone were the goal of life, I had forgotten God and was behaving as a beast. To such a one as me the Lord Himself, in person, making that form [of the ṛṣi's son] a mere instrument, thus

wishing to bless [me], has shown me the way in this manner. So this is the ripening of merit from my previous births, not the fruit of sin." As he spoke these serene words, shedding tears of joy and overcome by a surge of Bhakti, a thrill ran through the munis and the people gathered there, and his words rang true to them. Seeing the Mahārāja's firm resolve, an aged muni rose and, on behalf of everyone in that gathering, spoke thus: "O best of kings! Your words are rays of the sun to the hearts of munis. They befit you, for you were born in the lineage of the Pāṇḍavas. The Pāṇḍavas' mental dispositions would never — not even by mistake — enter into adharma. At all times they took refuge at Śrī Hari's feet and followed His commands alone; and in the end, the moment they heard the news that Śrī Hari had returned to His own abode, they renounced the kingdom, took up intense Vairāgya, and went away to the northern region. Because you are the progeny of such supremely qualified souls, you too are following that same sacred path." Extolling the king's lineage in this way, and blessing him that his resolve would meet with success, he sat down. Then the Mahārāja joined his palms and asked, "O best of munis! I have one doubt. Resolve it, and make me blessed." When a muni asked him to say what it was, he prayed, "Tell me: what karma must one whose death is near perform?" At that one muni rose and said that, if there were time enough, it would be good to keep performing yajña, yāga, japa, tapas, dhyāna, vows, pilgrimage to holy waters, charity, worship, offerings and the like. Another said, "Jñānād eva tu kaivalya." Some others said, "Karmaṇyaiva hi saṃsiddhiḥ"; and still others said, "Bhakti vaśaḥ puruṣa." As each spoke in his own way, the Mahārāja found no satisfaction and kept waiting for the true teaching on that point, so that the munis, at a loss among themselves, fell silent, stunned into stillness.

What We Are Destined to Receive or Not Comes Unbidden and Goes Unbidden Just then a young sage's son, sky-clad, of radiant form and great splendour, lighting up that assembly with divine radiance as though flooding it, strode briskly into the midst of the munis, pushing everyone this way and that; there being a high seat beside the place where the Mahārāja was seated, he came there and sat down on it. This filled those watching with wonder. "Who is he?" — the question arose in some. To look at his form, he was a sage's son; to look at his authority, it was supreme authority; in age, very young; in radiance, divine radiance. Then an all-knowing elder muni, discerning who he was, joined his palms and introduced him to the assembly: "We are blessed! This ray of light that has come here is Śrī Śuka, the jewel among the sons of Vyāsa Bhagavān." And he added, 'From his very birth he has renounced every attachment. He is a great jñānī.' Hearing this, tears of joy fell from the Mahārāja's eyes before he knew it; his body rose up like a kite soaring upward, he made full prostrate obeisance, joined his palms, and stood rigid, without moving or stirring, immersed in bliss. That beautiful form appeared to him as Kṛṣṇa's very form, in person. Śuka's splendour dazzled the eyes. He seemed Manmatha himself. His black locks, curling into ringlets, stirred on his fair face like black cobras. Like stars shining amid clouds, his eyes shone with cool rays. A smile danced upon his lips. The Mahārāja came slowly up to Śuka, joined his palms, and in a voice choked with feeling said, "Svāmī! I have not the strength to describe the marvels of your grace. Every act you perform is for the sake of the world's welfare. That your darśan, not to be won by many efforts, has come to me today so easily: that is fortune indeed! This is the fruit of the merit of our grandfathers

it would seem!" — so he said, and he stood brimming over with joy at his own good fortune, shedding tears of joy. Śuka, with a smile, told the king to be seated and said, "O King! You are a dharmātma. You are the protector of service to holy men. It is by the power of your merit alone that so many great ṛṣis have been able to gather here today. Otherwise — for ṛṣis immersed in ceaseless, most exacting discipline to bid farewell to all their sādhanas, gather at the king's side, and pray that a sacred prāpti might come to him — that is no ordinary thing. There is nothing at all natural in this; it is nothing but [the fruit of] merit from previous births." As Śuka gave this answer, the Mahārāja, gazing at his face, said: "O Lord! Had I really been so meritorious a soul, so blessed a soul, a dharmātma, why would a Brahmin's curse have come upon me? How would such perverse Buddhi have arisen in me? The darśan of so many great souls has not come to me by the fruit of my own merit. It is the treasured fruit of our forefathers' merit that is bringing me this good fortune. This I know well. Śyāmasundara himself — their own father's sister's son — used to carry out all the tasks of our grandfathers, it is said. It is because they were so fortunate, and for their joy alone, that you have today manifested yourself to bless me. But in this there is no prāpti of my own at all, O Lord!" As he grieved thus, Śuka drew the king close and said: "O King! Do not think so. What we are destined to receive and not to receive does not come with our knowing, and does not go with our knowing. Each one's prāpti is his own! One person's prāpti has no connection with another's — it has not; relationships are only temporary bonds! Prāpti and relationship are the residues of merit and sin from previous births. Neither grieving over them nor rejoicing over them can be of any use. Take up the effort to make the present time holy." With these words of peace he stroked the king's head and blessed him, and the sight gave the watching munis immense joy and satisfaction. Śuka's touch is not easily had. A conversation with him

is not within easy reach. That such great fortune should come to the Mahārāja so easily — the munis reasoned among themselves that the basis of it must be merit from previous births unknown to them, and they rejoiced. Then the Mahārāja raised his head: "O Lord! I have one doubt. Resolve it and grant peace to my heart. It is that very doubt I was just now putting to the eminent munis gathered here, and meanwhile you arrived. My fortune has ripened. You can resolve that doubt effortlessly." Seeing the king ask this with joined palms, [Śuka said,] "Parīkṣit! The reason I have graced this place with my coming is solely to give answers to your questions. Whatever you wish to ask, you may ask. Without fail I shall resolve your doubt and give you joy." Even as he was finishing his words, the assembled munis cried 'We are blessed, we are blessed!' and made their applause touch the sky. The Story of Śrī Hari Is a Fine Rudder The king bowed low and said, "O Lord! When death is near — what is the task that must be performed by one who has come to know, 'I am about to die'? What is the contemplation he must hold in mind? Please instruct me what methods one must adopt at that time so that birth may not come again after death. These are the anxieties that are tormenting me now. In your grace, tell me now what the supreme puruṣārtha is." As he kept praying this again and again, Śuka Maharṣi said, "O King! Withdraw your citta from worldly sense-objects, and fix your Manas on Śrī Hari, the enchanter of the world. I shall tell you the tattva of the Bhāgavata. Listen wholeheartedly. There is no karma holier than this, no contemplation holier than this, no power of tapas greater than this. The human body is the sturdy boat; the story of Śrī Hari is the fine rudder; saṃsāra is the ocean of worldly existence; Nārāyaṇa is the true navigator. Today this holy provision has come to you as your good fortune, to your very side

have come. The question you have asked is for the welfare of the world; it does not concern one individual alone. Of all the questions worthy of inquiry, the most excellent of all is Ātmatattva. For the whole multitude of living beings the final hour is the supreme truth; it is not something anyone can escape. What puruṣārtha one must take up at that certain hour is, for every living being too, its chief kinsman. It is according to that that rebirth comes about. Therefore the question you have asked, the doubt that has arisen in you, is an act for the welfare of the world, not for your sake alone! Listen" — and so he began.