Unsatisfied by the Sarasvatī

Vyāsa had divided the Veda and made the Bhārata, so that women, labourers, and men born into high families who did not keep their duties, none of whom were allowed to hear the Veda, could see dharma in it, and yet his heart was not at peace. He sat alone on the clean bank of the Sarasvatī, turning it over. I have kept my vows without pretence, he thought. I have honoured the Vedas, my teachers and the sacred fires, and done what they taught. I have shown the meaning of the tradition in the Bhārata. And yet, for all the splendour of my sacred learning, I feel myself unfulfilled. Is it because I have hardly told the ways of the Lord's own devotees, which are dear to the Lord himself?

While he sat grieving, feeling himself incomplete, Nārada came to his hermitage, and Vyāsa rose and honoured him. Nārada sat at his ease, his vīṇā in his hand, and smiled a little, and said, Son of Parāśara, are you content? You have come to know all you set out to know, and the Bhārata you made is great and wonderful. Why then do you grieve as if your purpose were unfulfilled?

Vyāsa said, All you say is true, and still my heart is not content. You know every secret. Tell me the root of it, and what is lacking in me.

Nārada said, You have hardly sung the spotless fame of the Lord. You have sung dharma and the other aims of life, but not the greatness of Vāsudeva. Speech that does not sing the fame of Hari, however finely made, is a bathing place for crows, where the swans take no delight. But speech in which, verse by verse, the names of the endless one are sung, even if it is not perfectly made, washes away the sins of a people, and the good hear it and sing it and take it up. Even knowledge without stain does not shine if it is empty of love for the Lord. So now, with your mind fixed, call to mind the deeds of the Lord, who crossed the worlds in his wide strides.