A Woman by Night

For days they wandered together, through forests and by rivers, villages and holy places, worshipping the gods and the ancestors with equal love, sometimes grey with dust, sometimes anointed with sandal, until the king shone like Kumbha himself, radiant as a son of the gods.

Seeing him so, Cūḍālā thought: My husband is free of care; youth is still fresh; these forests are lovely. For those who are free, to refuse the pleasure that comes of itself would be folly. I will make some device here in the forest by which my husband may delight in me.

So Kumbha said to him one day: This is the first day of the bright half of Caitra, the month of spring, and in heaven there is a gathering at the court of Hari, the god Viṣṇu. I must be there before my father; I will come back at the end of the day. He gave the king a flowering spray from a tree of Nandana, the garden of the gods, and rose into the sky. At the edge of the king's sight she dropped the boy's form and went to her city and did the work of the kingdom. Then she came down again as Kumbha before him, like a fruit or a flower falling, her face dark and downcast.

Son of the gods, said the king, you look troubled. Set your sorrow aside. Then Kumbha told him the tale that was part of her device: On my way back from heaven, beside the horses of the sun, I met the sage Durvāsa coming swiftly through the rain clouds, robed in dark cloud and wearing a bangle of lightning. I bowed to him and said, Sage, in your robe of dark cloud you are just like a woman stealing out to meet her lover. And he cursed me: For this insolent word you shall become such a woman by night. What will I say to my father?

What use is grieving? said the king. Whatever comes to the body, let it come; the Self is not stained. At sunset they did their evening prayers, and as night fell Kumbha cried out: I seem to be falling, trembling, melting in every limb. Look, my hair is growing long, breasts are rising on my body, my garments are growing long, and jewels are being born from my limbs. Alas, I am a woman! The king grieved, then told her to accept what must be. So be it, said Kumbha; I take on this womanhood by night. And they passed the night in silence on a single bed, and at dawn Kumbha was Kumbha again. So she wandered with him over the ridges of Kailāsa and Mandara, Mahendra, Sumeru and Sahya, a maiden by night and Kumbha by day.

Some days later Kumbha said: Every night I become a woman. I wish to fulfil a woman's dharma, and give myself to a husband. In all three worlds, you are the husband who pleases me. Take me as your wife by night. By such a deed, said the king, there is neither good nor evil; I see the three worlds as nothing but the Self. Do as you wish.

Tonight is the full moon of Śrāvaṇa, said Kumbha; I reckoned the hour myself. We will be married on the high plateau of Mount Mahendra, in a cave lit by jewels, the two of us alone, with the stars and the full moon for witnesses. They gathered flowers and gems and garments, bathed in the Mandākinī, each bathing the other, worshipped the gods and the ancestors, and at sunset did the evening rite. Kumbha set out jewelled lamps and adorned the king with sandal and camphor and musk, silk from the wishing tree, garlands of mandāra and pārijāta, and a crown shaped like the moon.

At nightfall Kumbha became a bride, and bowed at his feet. I am your wife, Madanikā, she said. Adorn me, my lord, and kindle the fire, and take my hand. The king adorned her with his own hands, and said: You shine like Lakṣmī newly risen. May the good fortune of Śacī with Indra, of Lakṣmī with Hari, of Gaurī with Śiva, be yours. At an altar hung with flowering creepers and pearls, with pots of Gaṅgā water, they kindled a fire of sandalwood and sat facing east; he offered sesame and parched grain, took her hand, and they walked three times around the fire. So the two were married again, husband and wife already, though he did not know it; and the long night passed as if it were a moment.