(102) There is a town by name Ujjayini, the proudest gem of the
three worlds, the very birthplace of the golden age, created by the
blessed Mahakala, [357] Lord of Pramathas, [358] Creator, Preserver
and Destroyer of the Universe, as a habitation meet for himself, like
a second earth. It is encompassed by a moat deep as hell--as by the
ocean, mistaking it for another earth--and surrounded by fenced walls,
white with plaster, like Kailasa, with its many points showing clear
against the sky, through joy at being the dwelling of Çiva.
It is adorned with large bazaars, like the oceans when their waters
were drunk by Agastya, stretching far, with gold-dust for sand,
with conch and oyster pearls, coral and emeralds laid bare. The
painted halls that deck it are filled with gods, demons, Siddhas,
[359] Gandharvas, genii, and snakes, (103) and show like a row of
heavenly chariots come down from the sky to behold fair women at
ceaseless festivals. Its crossways shine with temples like Mandara
whitened by the milk raised up by the churning stick, with spotless
golden vases for peaks, and white banners stirred by the breeze
like the peaks of Himalaya with the heavenly Ganges falling on
them. Commons gray with ketaki pollen, dark with green gardens,
watered by buckets constantly at work, and having wells adorned with
brick seats, lend their charm. Its groves are darkened by bees vocal
with honey draughts, its breeze laden with the sweetness of creeper
flowers, all trembling. It pays open honour to Kama, with banners
marked with the fish on the house-poles, with bells ringing merrily,
with crimson pennons of silk, and red cowries steady, made of coral,
standing upright in every house. Its sin is washed away by the
perpetual recitation of sacred books. (104) It resounds with the cry
of the peacocks, intent on a wild dance with their tails outspread
from excitement in the bathing-houses, wherein is the steady, deep
sound of the drums, and a storm caused by the heavy showers of spray,
and beautiful rainbows made by the sunbeams cast upon it. It glitters
with lakes, fair with open blue water-lilies, with their centre white
as unclosed moon-lotuses, beautiful in their unwavering gaze, [360]
like the thousand eyes of Indra. It is whitened with ivory turrets on
all sides, endowed with plantain groves, white as flecks of ambrosial
foam. It is girt with the river Sipra, which seems to purify the sky,
with its waves forming a ceaseless frown, as though jealously beholding
the river of heaven on the head of Çiva, while its waters sway over
the rounded forms of the Malavis, wild with the sweetness of youth.
The light-hearted race that dwell there, like the moon on the locks
of Çiva, spread their glory [361] through all the earth, and have
their horn filled with plenty; [362] like Mainaka, they have known no
pakshapata; [363] like the stream of the heavenly Ganges, with its
golden lotuses, their heaps of gold and rubies [364] shine forth;
like the law-books, they order the making of water-works, bridges,
temples, pleasure-grounds, wells, hostels for novices, wayside sheds
for watering cattle, and halls of assembly; like Mandara, they have
the best treasures of ocean drawn up for them; though they have charms
against poison, [365] yet they fear snakes; [366] though they live
on the wicked, [367] they give their best to the good; though bold,
they are very courteous; though pleasant of speech, they are truthful;
though handsome, [368] content with their wives; though they invite
the entrance of guests, they know not how to ask a boon; though they
seek love and wealth, they are strictly just; though virtuous, they
fear another world. [369] They are connoisseurs in all arts, pleasant
[370] and intelligent. They talk merrily, are charming in their humour,
spotless in their attire, (106) skilled in foreign languages, clever
at subtleties of speech, [371] versed in stories of all kinds, [372]
accomplished in letters, having a keen delight in the Mahabharata,
Puranas, and Ramayana, familiar with the Brihatkatha, masters of the
whole circle of arts, especially gambling, lovers of the çastras,
devoted to light literature, calm as a fragrant spring breeze,
constantly going to the south; [373] upright, [374] like the wood of
Himalaya; skilled in the worship of Rama, [375] like Lakshmana; open
lovers of Bharata, like Çatrughna; [376] like the day, following the
sun; [377] like a Buddhist, bold in saying 'Yes' about all kinds of
gifts; [378] like the doctrine of the Samkhya philosophy, possessed
of noble men; [379] like Jinadharma, pitiful to life.
The city seems possessed of rocks, with its palaces; it stretches like
a suburb with its long houses; it is like the tree that grants desires
with its good citizens; it bears in its painted halls the mirror of
all forms. Like twilight, it shines with the redness of rubies; [380]
(107) like the form of the Lord of Heaven, it is purified with the
smoke of a hundred sacrifices; like the wild dance of Çiva, it has
the smiles, which are its white markets; [381] like an old woman, it
has its beauty worn; [382] like the form of Garuda, it is pleasing
in being the resting-place of Vishnu; [383] like the hour of dawn,
it has its people all alert; like the home of a mountaineer, it has
palaces in which ivory cowries [384] are hanging; like the form of
Çesha, [385] it always bears the world; like the hour of churning
the ocean, it fills the end of the earth with its hubbub; [386]
like the rite of inauguration, it has a thousand gold pitchers [387]
at hand; like Gauri, it has a form fit to sit on the lion-throne;
like Aditi, honoured in a hundred houses of the gods; like the
sports of Mahavaraha, showing the casting down of Hiranyaksha;
[388] like Kadru, it is a joy to the race of reptiles; [389] like
the Harivamça, it is charming with the games of many children. [390]
(108) Though its courts are open to all, its glory is uninjured;
[391] though it glows with colour, [392] it is white as nectar;
though it is hung with strings of pearls, yet when unadorned [393]
it is adorned the most; though composed of many elements, [394] it is
yet stable, and it surpasses in splendour the world of the immortals.
There the sun is daily seen paying homage to Mahakala, for his steeds
vail their heads at the charm of the sweet chant of the women singing
in concert in the lofty white palaces, and his pennon droops before
him. There his rays fall on the vermeil floors like the crimson of
eve; and on the emerald seats, as though busy in creating lotus beds;
on the lapis-lazuli, as though scattered on the sky; on the circling
aloe smoke, as though eager to break its dense gloom; on the wreaths
of pearl, as though disdaining the clusters of stars; (109) on the
women's faces, as though kissing unfolding lotuses; on the splendour of
crystal walls, as though falling amid the pale moonlight of morning;
on the white silken banners, as though hanging on the waves of the
heavenly Ganges; on the sun-gems, as though blossoming from them;
on the sapphire lattices, as though entering the jaws of Rahu. There
darkness never falls, and the nights bring no separation to the pairs
of cakravakas; nor need they any lamps, for they pass golden as with
morning sunshine, from the bright jewels of women, as though the world
were on fire with the flame of love. There, though Çiva is at hand,
the cry of the hamsas in the houses, arising sweet and ceaseless,
at the kindling of love, fills the city with music, like the mourning
of Rati for the burning of the God of Love. There the palaces stretch
forth their flags, whose silken fringes gleam and flutter at night
in the wind, like arms to remove the mark of the moon put to shame
by the fair lotus-faced Malavis. (110) There the moon, deer-marked,
moves, in the guise of his reflection, on the jewel pavement, cool
with the sprinkling of much sandal-water, as though he had fallen
captive to Love at the sight of the faces of the fair city dames
resting on the palace roofs. There the auspicious songs of dawn
raised by the company of caged parrots and starlings, though they
sing their shrillest, as they wake at night's close, are drowned and
rendered vain by the tinkling of women's ornaments, reaching far,
and outvying the ambrosial voices of the tame cranes. [395] (111)
There dwells Çiva, who has pierced the demon Andhaka with his sharp
trident, who has a piece of the moon on his brow polished by the
points of Gauri's anklets, whose cosmetic is the dust of Tripura,
and whose feet are honoured by many bracelets fallen from Rati's
outstretched arms as she pacifies him when bereft of Kama.