In the meantime, that spark which had not been quite extinguished in the
consciousness of wise Darnu, flickered up and commenced to burn brighter
and brighter. First of all, in him as in a house where everyone is
sleeping, thought awoke and began to wander restlessly in the darkness.
Wise Darnu thought a whole hour and formed only one phrase:
“They were subject to Necessity....”
Another hour:
“But in the last instance, I too was subject to it....”
A third hour brought a new premise:
“In picking the fruit, I obeyed the law of Necessity.”
A fourth:
“But in refusing, I fulfilled her calculations.”
A fifth:
“Those fools live and love, but wise Purana and I die.”
A sixth:
“This perhaps is a work of Necessity, but it has very little sense.”
Then awakened thought finally stirred itself and began to rouse other
sleeping faculties:
“If Purana and I die,” said wise Darnu to himself, “it will be inevitable
but foolish. If I succeed in saving myself and my companion, it will be
likewise necessary but sensible. Therefore we will save ourselves. For
this I need will and strength.”
He rallied the little spark of will which had not been extinguished. He
compelled it to raise his heavy eyelids.
The daylight broke in upon his consciousness, as it floods a room on the
opening of the shutters. First he noticed the lifeless figure of his
friend, with his set face and the tear that precedes death already on
his cheeks. Darnu’s heart felt such pity for his ill-fated fellow seeker
after truth that his will became stronger and stronger. It entered his
hands and they began to move; his hands helped his feet.... This all took
much longer to execute than to decide upon. But the following morning
found Darnu’s gourd full of fresh water at Purana’s lips, and a piece of
juicy fruit fell finally into the open mouth of the good-natured sage.
Then Purana’s jaws moved and he thought: “O benevolent Necessity. I see
that you are now beginning to fulfill your promise.” But when he realized
that it was not the goddess but his companion Darnu who was stirring
around him, he felt himself rather insulted and said:
“Eight mountain ranges and seven seas, the sun and the holy gods, you,
I, the universe,—all are moved by Necessity.... Why did you awaken me,
Darnu? I was on the threshold of blessed peace.”
“You were like a corpse, friend Purana.”
“He who like a blind man sees nought, like a deaf man hears nought, like
a tree is insensible and immovable, has attained rest.... Give me some
more water to drink, friend Darnu....”
“Drink, Purana. I still see a tear on your cheek. Did not the blessedness
of peace press it from your eyes?”
The wise sages spent the next three weeks in accustoming their mouths to
eating and drinking and their limbs to moving, and during these three
weeks they slept in the temple and warmed each other with the heat of
their bodies till their strength returned.
At the beginning of the fourth week, they stood at the threshold of the
ruined temple. Below at their feet lay the green slopes of the mountain
descending into the valley.... Far in the distance were the winding
rivers, the white houses of the villages and cities where people lived
their normal lives, busied with cares, passions, love, anger and hate,
where joy was changed for sorrow, and sorrow was healed by new joy, and
where amid the roaring torrent of life men raised their eyes to heaven,
seeking a star to guide them.... The sages stood and looked at the
picture of life spread out at the entrance to the old temple.
“Where shall we go, friend Darnu?” asked the blinded Purana. “Are there
no directions on the walls of the temple?”
“Leave the temple and its deity in peace,” answered Darnu. “If we go to
the right, that will be in accordance with Necessity. If we go to the
left, that too is in accordance with her. Don’t you understand, friend
Purana, that this deity acknowledges as its laws everything that our
choice decides upon. Necessity is not the master but merely the soulless
accountant of our movements. The accountant marks only what has been.
What must be—will be only by our will....”
“It means....”
“It means,—let us permit Necessity to worry over her calculations, as
she will. Let us choose that path which leads us to the homes of our
brothers.”
With cheerful steps both sages went down from the mountain heights into
the valley, where human life flows on amid cares, love, and sorrow, where
laughter echoes and tears flow....
“And where our steward, O Kassapa, covers the back of the slave Jebaka
with welts,” added wise Darnu with a smile of reproach.
This is the story which the cheerful sage Ulaya told to the young son of
the Rajah Lichava, when he had fallen into the idleness of despair....
Darnu and Purana smiled, denying nothing and affirming nothing, and
Kassapa heard the story. Buried in thought he went away toward the home
of his father, the powerful Rajah Lichava.