"'Yudhishthira said, "Thou, O grandsire, art our highest preceptor in the
matter of all acts that are difficult of accomplishment (in consequence
of the commands of superiors on the one hand and the cruelty that is
involved in them on the other). I ask, how should one judge of an act in
respect of either one's obligation to do it or of abstaining from it? Is
it to be judged speedily or with delay?"
"'Bhishma said, "In this connection is cited the old story of what
occurred with respect to Chirakarin born in the race of Angirasa. Twice
blessed be the man that reflects long before he acts. One that reflects
long before he acts is certainly possessed of great intelligence. Such a
man never offends in respect of any act. There was once a man of great
wisdom, of the name of Chirakarin, who was the son of Gautama. Reflecting
for a long time upon every consideration connected with proposed acts, he
used to do all he had to do. He came to be called by the name of
Chirakarin because he used to reflect long upon all matters, to remain
awake for a long time, to sleep for a long time, and to take a long time
in setting himself to the accomplishment of such acts as he accomplished.
The clamour of being an idle man stuck to him. He was also regarded as a
foolish person, by every person of a light understanding and destitute of
foresight. On a certain occasion, witnessing an act of great fault in his
wife, the sire Gautama passing over his other children, commanded in
wrath this Chirakarin, saying, 'Slay thou this woman.' Having said these
words without much reflection, the learned Gautama, that foremost of
persons engaged in the practice of Yoga, that highly blessed ascetic,
departed for the woods. Having after a long while assented to it, saying,
'So be it,' Chirakarin, in consequence of his very nature, and owing to
his habit of never accomplishing any act without long reflection, began
to think for a long while (upon the propriety or otherwise of what he was
commanded by his sire to do). 'How shall I obey the command of my sire and
yet how avoid slaying my mother? How shall I avoid sinking, like a wicked
person, into sin in this situation in which contradictory obligations are
dragging me into opposite directions? Obedience to the commands of the
sire constitutes the highest merit. The protection of the mother again is
a clear duty. The status of a son is fraught with dependence. How shall I
avoid being afflicted by sin? Who is there that can be happy after having
slain a woman, especially his mother? Who again can obtain prosperity and
fame by disregarding his own sire? Regard for the sire's behest is
obligatory. The protection of my mother is equally a duty. How shall I so
frame my conduct that both obligations may be discharged? The father
places his own self within the mother's womb and takes birth as the son,
for continuing his practices, conduct, name and race. I have been
begotten as a son by both my mother and my father. Knowing as I do my own
origin, why should I not have this knowledge (of my relationship with
both of them)? The words uttered by the sire while performing the initial
rite after birth, and those that were uttered by him on the occasion of
the subsidiary rite (after the return from the preceptor's abode) are
sufficient (evidence) for settling the reverence due to him and indeed,
confirm the reverence actually paid to him.[1203] In consequence of his
bringing up the son and instructing him, the sire is the son's foremost
of superiors and the highest religion. The very Vedas lay it down as
certain that the son should regard what the sire says as his highest
duty. Unto the sire the son is only a source of joy. Unto the son,
however, the sire is all in all. The body and all else that the son owns
have the sire alone for their giver. Hence, the behests of the sire
should be obeyed without ever questioning them in the least. The very
sins of one that obeys one's sire are cleansed (by such obedience). The
sire is the giver of all articles of food, of instructions in the Vedas,
and of all other knowledge regarding the world. (Prior to the son's
birth) the sire is the performer of such rites as Garbhadhana and
Simantonnayana.[1204] The sire is religion. The sire is heaven. The sire
is the highest penance. The sire being gratified, all the deities are
gratified. Whatever words are pronounced by the sire become blessings
that attach to the son. The words expressive of joy that the sire utters
cleanse the son of all his sins. The flower is seen to fall away from the
stalk. The fruit is seen to fall away from the tree. But the sire,
whatever his distress, moved by parental affection, never abandons the
son. These then are my reflections upon the reverence due from the son to
the sire. Unto the son the sire is not an ordinary object. I shall now
think upon (what is due to) the mother. Of this union of the five
(primal) elements in me due to my birth as a human being, the mother is
the (chief) cause as the firestick of fire.[1205] The mother is as the
fire-stick with respect to the bodies of all men. She is the panacea for
all kinds of calamities. The existence of the mother invests one with
protection; the reverse deprives one of all protection. The man who,
though divested of prosperity, enters his house, uttering the words, "O
mother!"--hath not to indulge in grief. Nor doth decrepitude ever assail
him. A person whose mother exists, even if he happens to be possessed of
sons and grandsons and even if he counts a hundred years, looks like a
child of but two years of age. Able or disabled, lean or robust, the son
is always protected by the mother. None else, according to the ordinance,
is the son's protector. Then doth the son become old, then doth he become
stricken with grief, then doth the world look empty in his eyes, when he
becomes deprived of his mother. There is no shelter (protection against
the sun) like the mother. There is no refuge like the mother. There is no
defence like the mother. There is no one so dear as the mother. For
having borne him in her womb the mother is the son's Dhatri. For having
been the chief cause of his birth, she is his Janani. For having nursed
his young limbs into growth, she is called Amva. For bringing forth a
child possessed of courage she is called Virasu. For nursing and looking
after the son she is called Sura. The mother is one's own body. What
rational man is there that would slay his mother, to whose care alone it
is due that his own head did not lie on the street-side like a dry gourd?
When husband and wife unite themselves for procreation, the desire
cherished with respect to the (unborn) son are cherished by both, but in
respect of their fruition more depends upon the mother than on the
sire.[1206] The mother knows the family in which the son is born and the
father who has begotten him. From the moment of conception the mother
begins to show affection to her child and takes delight in her. (For this
reason, the son should behave equally towards her). On the other hand,
the scriptures declare that the offspring belongs to the father alone. If
men, after accepting the hands of wives in marriage and pledging
themselves to earn religious merit without being dissociated from them,
seek congress with other people's wives, they then cease to be worthy of
respect.[1207] The husband, because he supports the wife, is called
Bhartri, and, because he protects her, he is on that account called Pati.
When these two functions disappear from him, he ceases to be both Bhartri
and Pati.[1208] Then again woman can commit no fault. It is man only that
commits faults. By perpetrating an act of adultery, the man only becomes
stained with guilt.[1209] It has been said that the husband is the
highest object with the wife and the highest deity to her. My mother gave
up her sacred person to one that came to her in the form and guise of her
husband. Women can commit no fault. It is man who becomes stained with
fault. Indeed, in consequence of the natural weakness of the sex as
displayed in every act, and their liability to solicitation, women cannot
be regarded as offenders. Then again the sinfulness (in this case) is
evident of Indra himself who (by acting in the way he did) caused the
recollection of the request that had been made to him in days of yore by
woman (when a third part of the sin of Brahmanicide of which Indra
himself was guilty was cast upon her sex). There is no doubt that my
mother is innocent. She whom I have been commanded to slay is a woman.
That woman is again my mother. She occupies, therefore, a place of
greater reverence. The very beasts that are irrational know that the
mother is unslayable. The sire must be known to be a combination of all
the deities together. To the mother, however, attaches a combination of
all mortal creatures and all the deities.'[1210]--In consequence of his
habit of reflecting long before acting, Gautama's son Chirakarin, by
indulging in those reflections, passed a long while (without
accomplishing the act he had been commanded by his sire to accomplish).
When many days had expired, his sire Gautama returned. Endued with
great wisdom, Medhatithi of Gautama's race, engaged in the practice of
penances, came back (to his retreat), convinced, after having reflected
for that long time, of the impropriety of the chastisement he had
commanded to be inflicted upon his wife. Burning with grief and shedding
copious tears, for repentance had come to him in consequence of the
beneficial effects of that calmness of temper which is brought about by a
knowledge of the scriptures, he uttered these words, 'The lord of the
three worlds, viz., Purandara, came to my retreat, in the guise of a
Brahmana asking for hospitality. He was received by me with (proper)
words, and honoured with a (proper) welcome, and presented in due form
with water to wash his feet and the usual offerings of the Arghya. I also
granted him the rest he had asked for. I further told him that I had
obtained a protector in him. I thought that such conduct on my part would
induce him to behave towards me as a friend. When, however,
notwithstanding all this, he misbehaved himself, my wife Ahalya could not
be regarded to have committed any fault. It seems that neither my wife,
nor myself, nor Indra himself who while passing through the sky had
beheld my wife (and become deprived of his senses by her extraordinary
beauty), could be held to have offended. The blame really attaches to the
carelessness of my Yoga puissance.[1211] The sages have said that all
calamities spring from envy, which, in its turn, arises from error of
judgment. By that envy, also, I have been dragged from where I was and
plunged into an ocean of sin (in the form of wife-slaughter). Alas, I
have slain a woman,--a woman that is again my wife--one, that is, who, in
consequence of her sharing her lord's calamities came to be called by the
name of Vasita,--one that was called Bharya owing to the obligation I was
under of supporting her. Who is there that can rescue me from this sin?
Acting heedlessly I commanded the high-souled Chirakarin (to slay that
wife of mine). If on the present occasion he proves true to his name then
may he rescue me from this guilt. Twice blessed be thou, O Chirakaraka!
If on this occasion thou hast delayed accomplishing the work, then art
thou truly worthy of thy name. Rescue me, and thy mother, and the
penances I have achieved, as also thy own self, from grave sins. Be thou
really a Chirakaraka today! Ordinarily, in consequence of thy great
wisdom thou takest a long time for reflection before achieving any act.
Let not thy conduct be otherwise today! Be thou a true Chirakaraka today.
Thy mother had expected thy advent for a long time. For a long time did
she bear thee in her womb. O Chirakaraka, let thy habit of reflecting
long before acting be productive of beneficial results today. Perhaps, my
son Chirakaraka is delaying today (to achieve my bidding) in view of the
sorrow it would cause me (to see him execute that bidding). Perhaps, he
is sleeping over that bidding, bearing it in his heart (without any
intention of executing it promptly). Perhaps, he is delaying, in view of
the grief it would cause both him and me, reflecting upon the
circumstances of the case.' Indulging in such repentance, O king, the
great Rishi Gautama then beheld his son Chirakarin sitting near him.
Beholding his sire come back to their abode, the son Chirakarin,
overwhelmed with grief, cast away the weapon (he had taken up) and bowing
his head began to pacify Gautama. Observing his son prostrated before him
with bent head, and beholding also his wife almost petrified with shame,
the Rishi became filled with great joy. From that time the highsouled
Rishi, dwelling in that lone hermitage, did not live separately from his
spouse or his heedful son. Having uttered the command that his wife
should be slain he had gone away from his retreat for accomplishing some
purpose of his own. Since that time his son had stood in an humble
attitude, weapon in hand, for executing that command on his mother.
Beholding that his son prostrated at his feet, the sire thought that,
struck with fear, he was asking for pardon for the offence he had
committed in taking up a weapon (for killing his own mother). The sire
praised his son for a long time, and smelt his head for a long time, and
for a long time held him in a close embrace, and blessed him, uttering
the words, 'Do thou live long!' Then, filled with joy and contented with
what had occurred, Gautama, O thou of great wisdom, addressed his son and
said these words, 'Blessed be thou, O Chirakaraka! Do thou always reflect
long before acting. By thy delay in accomplishing my bidding thou hast
today made me happy for ever.' That learned and best of Rishis then
uttered these verses upon the subject of the merits of such cool men as
reflect for a long time before setting their hands to any action. 'If the
matter is the death of a friend, one should accomplish it after a long
while. If it is the abandonment of a project already begun, one should
abandon it after a long while. A friendship that is formed after a long
examination lasts for a long time. In giving way to wrath, to
haughtiness, to pride, to disputes, to sinful acts, and in accomplishing
all disagreeable tasks he that delays long deserves applause. When the
offence is not clearly proved against a relative, a friend, a servant, or
a wife, he that reflects long before inflicting the punishment is
applauded.' Thus, O Bharata, was Gautama pleased with his son, O thou of
Kuru's race, for that act of delay on the latter's part in doing the
former's bidding. In all acts a man should, in this way, reflect for a
long time and then settle what he should do. By conducting himself in
this way one is sure to avoid grief for a long time. That man who never
nurses his wrath for a long while, who reflects for a long time before
setting himself to the performance of any act, never does any act which
brings repentance. One should wait for a long while upon those that are
aged, and sitting near them show them reverence. One should attend to
one's duties for a long time and be engaged for a long while in
ascertaining them. Waiting for a long time upon those that are learned,
are reverentially serving for a long time those that are good in
behaviour, and keeping one's soul for a long while under proper
restraint, one succeeds in enjoying the respect of the world for a long
time. One engaged in instructing others on the subject of religion and
duty, should, when asked by another for information on those subjects,
take a long time to reflect before giving an answer. He may then avoid
indulging in repentance (for returning an incorrect answer whose
practical consequences may lead to sin).--As regards Gautama of austere
penances, that Rishi, having adored the deities for a long while in that
retreat of his, at last ascended to heaven with his son."'"