Ashoka the Great by Wytze Keuning

Author:Wytze Keuning [Keuning, Wytze]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-11-06T18:30:00+00:00

18

JUNGLE FIRE

shvita left the Brahmin-court dressed in the vestments of a pilgrim. Anu hurried to the Maharajah.

‘Sire, the hostile priests had a meeting yesterday. They took painstaking precautions not to be spied upon. Ashvita has left just now even though Surya scorches the soil.’

‘Where to, honourable Anu?’

‘To the jungle road by the side of the Son, O, Maharajah.’

Ashoka had Maskarin come in and ordered him to follow Ashvita.

Towards the night of the second day, Ashvita reached the dwelling of a Vaishya whose farmstead extended into the jungle. He asked for hospitality. A poor penitent made his way towards the simple hut as well, but did not enter. The Vaishya felt honoured to render hospitality to a distinguished Brahmin and to take care of him. The scorching sun of Grishma had dried out the country, blowing burning gusts of wind towards the Ganga. The streams contained not a drop of water. The pippalas rippled their longings to the Maruts. At a time like this it was good to give the Brahmins a warm welcome. They were the only ones to determine the monsoon and coerce the Maruts to send rain to the earth.

‘Do the gods bless your labours, Purna?’

‘My land is dried out, the cattle becomes scrawny; the heat harms the farmstead, sir. If only the rain would come!’

‘Do you offer to Rudra and the Maruts?’

‘Daily, sir. If the rain stays away my farm will soon be without life.’

‘It may be the evil spirits. Do you always speak the truth, Purna? You know that no evil spirits can harm you then.’

‘The Vedas forbid the telling of lies, sir.’

‘Then listen to what the restless spirits of dead people whisper to you, Purna. They speak to truthful Vaishyas. You do not hear them but they whisper to your conscience what they want you to do. Where do you make offerings to the spirits, Purna?’

‘Yonder in the jungle, sir.’

‘Come on then, we will go together.’

They left the farmstead. The penitent had taken a seat close by. Purna and Ashvita greeted him respectfully but the penitent did not move. Ashvita and Purna reached the sacrificial place through various winding pathways; Purna knew that evil spirits could only travel by paths that are straight. Their path was covered with withered leaves. Trees and shrubs looked scorched and the vines hung leafless amongst the trees.

‘Do you perform your offerings to the gods here, Purna?’

‘No sir, we do that at home. Here there is danger of fire.’

‘But this is a sacred offering place.’

‘For the evil spirits, sir. Only for the evil spirits!’

‘Don’t be so frightened, Purna. Make the offering here to the god who rules over rain and wind. I am a Brahmin and will help you to get rain.’

‘Sir, I cannot ask Agni to bring the sacrifice to the gods from here. To light a fire in the jungle is forbidden and the penalty is death. The jungle belongs to the sacred Maharajah and is the home to an infinite number of animals, sir.’

‘There is no anointed Maharajah.

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