Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 2 - Vidhura Neeti Parva Chapter 10 - On Hospitality, Secrecy, Ministers and Restraint

Vaiśampāyana said:

Then Vidura spoke again, O King—measured as a metronome of dharma, gentle as rain on parched earth.

When elders cross the house-threshold,

A young man’s heart takes wing;

Bow first, bring seat and water cool—

Then speak of anything.

Proper reception: rise, salute, offer a seat, water for feet, kind enquiry, and food—only then one’s own matters. A house where worthy Brahmanas fear to accept offerings withers in merit.

Physician, fowler, soldier bold,

The errant, stained, or sly—

Still offer water at thy door;

Let hospitality not die.

Even when a guest is personally unworthy, the minimum rites (especially water) should not be denied; the householder’s dharma remains his own.

Salt and curds and honey sweet,

Cooked food, perfumes, ghee—

The Veda-ward should sell not these,

Nor pander trade’s decree.

Certain trades erode the Brahmana ideal; Vidura marks them as unfit to guard spiritual authority.

Beyond both praise and harsh reproach,

Beyond old feuds and friends—

The yogin stills his storming breath

And into silence bends.

The true mendicant: angerless, grief-less, even-sighted, content with little, guarding the sacrificial flame, hospitable even in the woods.

Think not that distance hides thy fault—

The wise have arms of thought;

A wrong once done returns by paths

The doer never sought.

Never bank on distance after injuring the discerning; their reach is intelligence and time.

Trust not the untrustworthy;

Trust not the worthy too much;

Roots rot when credence runs to flood—

Keep balance in thy touch.

Both credulity and cynicism kill safety. Measure trust.

Speak sweetly, yet be not a slave;

Guard households, dues, and right;

For virtuous wives are Lakṣmī’s forms—

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The lamps of hearth and light.

Gentle authority in the home; protect what is due; chaste, auspicious wives are embodiments of prosperity.

Let sire keep watch within the rooms,

Thy mother rule the flame;

Thyself the fields; a trusted soul

The kine that bear thy name.

Assign inner chambers to father, kitchen to mother, cattle to a self-trusted agent, and agriculture personally—so the house stands firm.

Fire from water, iron from stone,

Kṣatra from Brahman’s grace;

Each power bows before its source—

Thus cycles interlace.

Power is terrible yet answerable to its origin; know what checks what.

Fire sleeps in wood, yet when awaked

Devours forest, field, and wall;

So quiet men of lofty birth

Consume great wrongs when they must call.

The gentle of high lineage conceal fierce energy—forgiveness is not weakness; provoked, they burn injustice at the root.

Do first—speak after.

On rooftops high or deserts bare,

Ripen plans in secrecy;

Let deeds be seen when they are done—

Not talked to every tree.

Silence before action; mature counsel in seclusion; success loves closed lips.

A “friend” without self-mastery,

Or learned yet unruled—

Trust not thy statecraft to such palms,

Lest kingdom’s pot be cooled.

Neither the ignorant friend nor the undisciplined scholar should carry state secrets.

Examine first, appoint at last;

Let ministers but learn

Thy acts when finished, not before—

Thus guarded kingdoms turn.

A foremost king’s ministers know of virtue, profit, pleasure only after the deed. He himself must know the six measures of policy and his own strength.

Let wrath and favour count for much,

Thy coffers in thine hand;

Be content with parasol and name—

Share wealth with all thy band.

A ruler’s anger and grace must have weight; treasury under personal eye; seek renown and distribute wealth to servants—not hoard.

If weak, then bend and bide thy hour;

When strong, strike danger dead—

But never loose a mortal foe

Once chained and brought to bed.

Placate when weak, finish when strong; never release a death-deserving foe to rise again.

Curb wrath toward gods and kings and seers,

Toward elders, babes, and weak;

Great fame is won by shunning brawls

That only fools would seek.

Reverence those beyond reprisal; avoid profitless quarrels—that is wise renown.

Who neither harms nor helps with weight

Is master loved by none;

Like women shunning eunuch beds,

Men flee the powerless one.

Authority must be effective; empty wrath and fruitless favour erode sovereignty.

The fool slights age and noble worth,

The learned and the true;

Such tongues invite calamities

Like vultures scenting due.

Disrespect of elders and the virtuous brings quick ruin.

Plain dealing, gifts, the courtesies,

And bridled, kindly speech—

With these four threads the wise can bind

All creatures within reach.

Honesty, generosity, manners, controlled speech subdue the world more surely than fear.

Active, grateful, lucid, clean,

Guileless, though purse be bare—

Such men draw friends and counsellors,

And loyal hands that care.

Character outranks coin; good men gather allies without a treasury.

Intelligence and tranquil mind,

Self-rule and purity;

No harshness, and a friend’s delight—

These stoke prosperity.

Seven fuels: buddhi, śama, dama, śauca, soft speech, and pleasing one’s friends without wrong.

The man who withholds others’ due,

Ungrateful, brazen, base—

Shun him as one who sleeps with snakes

Within a narrow place.

The provoker against the innocent knows no sleep; keep clear of thankless, shameless wrongdoers.

When wrath imperils stores and gains,

Appease that storm like gods;

Secure the gates, preserve the fields—

Then weigh the deeper odds.

Those whose anger threatens your means of life should be placated—prudence over pride.

A woman, child, deceitful man—

The careless and the lapsed—

If these should steer thy fragile raft,

Expect the vessel sapped.

Objects dependent on such guides seldom succeed—choose steadiness over charm.

He knows the whole who knows the frame—

The parts serve by and by;

And he is dead who’s hymned by knaves,

By harlots, cheats, and mimes.

Principled general competence outranks narrow craft; beware praise from the disreputable—it foretells moral death.

Thou left the bow of lion-sons—

Of Pāṇḍu’s mighty line—

To lean on Karṇa, Śakuni,

And Duryodhana’s design.

Prosperity, like Vāli cast

From triple worlds, shall fall;

Recall thy steps, O Kuru’s lord—

Or lose thy house and hall.

Vidura closes with a clear warning: you chose Duryodhana’s counsel over the Pāṇḍavas’ strength and virtue. Fortune will depart as Vāli fell—unless reconciliation and dharma return.

Vaiśampāyana said:

So spoke the wise Vidura, weaving household law with royal prudence and the still light of yoga. Whether the blind monarch would heed—or hurry on to the clang of conches—was now the riddle of fate itself.