March 9, 2026
imāmakhaṇḍitāṁ saṁyak kriyāṁ saṁpādayannapi
duḥkhād gacchāmi duḥkhaughamamṛtaṁ me viṣaṁ sthitaṁ (87/14)
THE BRĀHMAṆA (CŪḌĀLĀ) continued:
It is by such nature of the self that this universe is born. It is sustained by self-limitation or conditioning on account of alternating order and disorder. When such self-limitation and such conflict between order and disorder cease, the beings will not be born again.
(Continuing the story of Nārada, the brāhmaṇa said:) Soon, Nārada regained his self-control. He gathered the seed which had been spilt, in a pot made of crystal. He then filled the pot with milk produced by his thought-force. In due course, that pot gave birth to an infant which was perfect in every respect. Nārada christened the baby and in course of time imparted the highest wisdom to it. The young boy was a peer to his father.
Later, Nārada took the boy to Brahmā the creator, the father of Nārada. Brahmā conferred upon the boy (whose name was Kuṁbha) the blessing of the highest wisdom. It is that boy, that Kuṁbha, that grandson of Brahmā, who is standing before you. I roam the world playfully, for I have nothing to gain from anyone. When I come into this world, my feet do not touch the earth. (As Vasiṣṭha said this, the seventeenth day came to an end.)
ŚIKHIDHVAJA said:
It is truly by the fruition of the good deeds done in many past incarnations that I have obtained your company today and am able to drink the nectar of your wisdom! Nothing in the world gives that peace which the company of the holy ones bestows on man.
THE BRĀHMAṆA (CŪḌĀLĀ) said:
I have told you my life-story. Pray, now tell me who you are and what you are doing here. How long have you been here? Tell me everything truthfully, for recluses do not speak anything but the truth.
ŚIKHIDHVAJA replied:
O son of the gods, you know everything as it is. What else shall I tell you? I dwell in this forest on account of my fear of this saṁsāra (world-cycle or the cycle of birth and death). Though you know all this, I shall briefly relate my story to you. I am king Śikhidhvaja. I have abandoned my kingdom. I dread this saṁsāra in which one repeatedly and alternately experiences pleasure and pain, birth and death. However, though I have wandered everywhere and though I perform intense austerities, I have not found peace and tranquillity. My mind is not at rest. I do not indulge in activities nor do I seek to gain anything, I am alone here and unattached to anything; yet I am dry and devoid of fulfilment. I have practised all the kriyās (yogic methods) uninterruptedly. But I only progress from sorrow to greater sorrow; and even nectar turns into poison for me.