The Story of Līlā 2 part 1
2. The Story of Līlā
Part 1
Summary—Having shown that it is Paramātman, the Self-consciousness, which manifests itself as Jīva, Īśvara and the universe and which is identical with them, though appearing different,
the author deals, in this story with the heterogeneous actions of the Manas—Māyā arising out of the one Consciousness and the means of arresting that Māyā.
The Story of Padma—Now, Oh Rāma, in order to relieve thee of this dubious predicament of thine and to bring quiescence of mind, I shall relate to thee an archaic story which thou shalt hear.
There reigned upon the earth a king named Padma. He rejoiced in the possession of Sattva-guṇa and ripe discrimination. On his puissant arms rested Vijaya-Lakṣmī (the Goddess of Victory).
His royal partner went by the name of Līlā and had the good qualities of strictly conforming to her husband’s mind. She lived inseparable from him, like his shadow and mind.
Līlā’s doings—In this state, a thought flashed across her mind to adopt some means by which she could perpetuate the youth of her lovely lord, free him from dotage and death and so ever enjoy his company.
For this purpose, she consulted Brahmins well versed in all the four Vedas. They were unable to arrive at any means of arresting death in this world, Japas (utterances of Mantras), Tapas (religious austerities), etc. conducing to the mere development of Siddhis (psychic powers).
Thereupon Līlā thought to herself:
If I should predecease my lord, I shall enjoy Nirvāṇic bliss unattended by any pain. But if he should die before me, I can be happy only in the event of his Jīva living in my house and casting its gladsome look on me. To this end I shall worship the feet of Saraswatī, the imparter of the Vedas and eulogize her.
So without apprising her lord of her intentions, she trod the path pointed out by the great men, the masters of powerful Mantras and Śāstras, and worshipped Devas and Brahmins.
Having refrained from tasting food for three days and nights, she took light refreshment on the fourth day and that only once.
Thus she was engaged in sweet Niṣṭhā (meditation) for ten months, when Saraswatī, overjoyed (at her meditation), appeared before her with the radiance of a full moon and said:
Oh, Līlā, what is thy desire?
Whereupon the spouse of Padma saluted her and said:
Oh, thou who art like the moon’s rays which appease the heat of existence and age, or like the sun’s light which dispels the gloom of mental grief, please grant me two boons:
firstly, of allowing my lord’s Jīva (ego) to remain in my house even after his death, and secondly, of thyself appearing before me visibly, whenever I should think of thee.
These boons the noble Saraswatī conferred upon her with good grace and returned happily to her abode.
Then the wheel of time rolled on rapidly with its nave of Pakṣa (fortnight), month and Ṛtu (seasons, each of two months), its spokes of days, its axle of years, and its axle-hole of moments.
When thus Līlā had passed her days in the company of her lord in unlimited bliss, he suddenly died.
Fearing lest the elegant Līlā should pine away under the fire of her excessive grief, Saraswatī stayed by in the Ākāśa prior to the separation of the king’s Jīva (from his body);
and in order to dissipate her delusion, spoke (on her husband’s death) the following words:
Cover up thy deceased husband’s body with flowers. Then the flowers only will fade and not the body. The (king’s) Jīva, without quitting the body, will rest in the golden harem. Then resting on the arms of the king, thou shalt assuage thy grief.
So saying, Saraswatī vanished from view. According to the words of the ’Voice of Silence’, namely Saraswatī, Līlā buried her husband’s body in flowers.
Then, fainting at the separation from her lord, Līlā contemplated Saraswatī, who no sooner appeared before her than Līlā addressed her thus:
I can no longer endure the parting from my lord; thou should take me soon to where he is.
Thereupon Saraswatī said:
Of the three kinds of Ākāśa, namely Cidākāśa (spiritual Ākāśa), Cittākāśa (mental Ākāśa) and Bhūtākāśa (elemental Ākāśa), Cittākāśa is that intermediate state in which the mind is when it flits from one object to another in the elemental Ākāśa of objects.
When the hosts of Saṁkalpas in us perish, then the light of Cit, which is quiescent and immaculate and manifests itself as the universe, will shine in us.
If one becomes convinced of the unreality of visible objects, then, through that Jñāna, he will attain Cidākāśa at once. Mayest thou attain through my grace that Cidākāśa.
Through this blessing, Līlā went into Nirvikalpa Samādhi and was able to escape, like a bird from its cage, out of the body which is generally replete with stains and desires through the longing of the mind.
There in the heart of Jñānākāśa (Cidākāśa), she saw, in a large town, a much beloved, valiant prince, sixteen years old, reclining on a soft cushion and surrounded and extolled by innumerable kings, women of intense desires and the fourfold armies.
Having recognized him to be her dear lord, she entered the king’s assembly which she found graced on the eastern side by Munis and Brahmins well versed in the Vedas,
on the southern side by handsome ladies, on the western side by kings, and on the northern side by the fourfold armies, etc.
Then, having visited many fertile tracts of earth, hills, cities, towns, holy rivers, etc. she, sparkling like lightning, returned to her abode and entered her body; lying entranced, where she contemplated with great love Saraswatī of white complexion.
Having saluted Saraswatī who made herself visible, seated on her supreme throne, Līlā questioned her thus:
How is it that my lord, even after his death, has subjected himself to an Amūrta (formless) creation which is as illusory and bondage-producing as the present state?
Saraswatī replied:
The original evolution of the supreme Brahman, differentiated out of the one Jñānākāśa, brought about in its turn through delusion of regality the Padma creation, and thus it is that a fresh creation arose. Similarly has thy husband now a second birth as Vidūratha. Therefore, after giving ear to what I am going to relate, thou shalt have thy doubts cleared by me:
In the stainless and immaculate Cidākāśa, there is on one side a Māyāvic dome. This vault is covered by countless peacock feathers, namely the immeasurable Ākāśa.
On its golden pillars, large and small, namely Mahāmeru, are engraved the picturesque beauties of Indrāṇī, etc., the spouses of Indra and the regents of the quarters.
On one side of that dome are hillocks (the elements), Pṛthivī (earth), etc. as well as the tiles called the seven mountains.
It is the residence of the revered and old Brahma surrounded by his sons, Marīchi, etc. full of desires. It reverberates with the songs of Devas, passing on their beautiful vehicles, which songs vibrate from the Vinā (lute) of Ākāśa.
It is resonant with the buzzing sound of Siddha hosts living in the Ākāśa. It resounds with the never-ceasing sound of the strife between Devas and Asuras, of great egoism.
It is in such an incomparable Māyāvic dome that there was a region called Girigrāma in the midst of a certain tract in a certain spot of that dome. That tract boasts of the possession of hills, rivers and forests.
There lived in it a great Brahmin householder who had a sacrificial fire and was well versed in Śāstras and Dharmas.
He equalled Vāsiṣṭha in beauty, wealth, age, humility, actions, and education, but could not be called Vāsiṣṭha in real knowledge. In name at least, this Brahmin could be called Vāsiṣṭha.
She who worshipped his feet (as his wife) was equal to Arundhatī, but had not her knowledge; yet she passed by the name of Arundhatī.
The wife of Vāsiṣṭha was this lady on Bhūloka (earth), but the true Arundhatī, is in Devaloka. No compeers to these two ladies could be found in all the three Lokas.
While this Vāsiṣṭha, the lord of the above-mentioned Arundhatī, was residing with her in the valley, a king came to the forest there on a hunting excursion along with his retinue.
The Ṛṣi saw them and reflected within himself:
The wealth of kings is indeed beneficent and enviable. When shall I be able to be the ruler of the earth with retinues encircling me, with Cāmaras (chowries) waving?
When shall I be able to reign triumphant, as a monarch, having all under my sway and be locked in the embrace of sweet females with beautiful breasts bedaubed with red ointment?
From that day forward, Vāsiṣṭha was seized with intense desires, and, in eager anticipation of the realization of such desires, he performed Karmas regularly.
Dotage having come upon him like the frost upon a lotus, his lady implored me for aid like yourself and was blessed by me with the similar boon that her husband’s Jīva would, not leave her house.
The Brahmin Vāsiṣṭha expired thus with his longing for regality ungratified. Thus was he of the nature of Jīvākāśa in his house.
Through the Saṁkalpa of the mind which led to the pleasures of regality, Vāsiṣṭha who was originally of the nature of the Jñānākāśa became a king.
In that state, after his wife, who was a Brahmin lady of great Tapas, found him dead, there arose a twofold thought in her of leaving the corpse of her husband’s gross body and joining him in his subtle body.
While the Brahmin’s sons, house, lands, forests, mountains, etc. were thus (in the gross state), his Jīva was living separate for about eight days and was of the nature of Cidākāśa in that very house.
In your former birth, this king, your husband, was a Brahmin. Then you were his wife, going by the name of Arundhatī. You who reign here as husband and wife, like a loving Cakravāka couple or Pārvatī and Parameśvara, are no other than Arundhatī and Vāsiṣṭha.
Oh Līlā, who have a face like the waxing moon, the first creation as a Brahmin when regality was longed for, which I described to you before, is itself illusory. Likewise is this Padma creation.
The third creation of birth as Vidūratha of which you were a witness is also unreal, like the reflected image in water.
So said Saraswatī, the world’s mother.