Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 2 - Vidhura Neeti Parva Chapter 11 - Destiny, discernment, friendship and secrecy

Vaiśampāyana said:

When the old king sighed that man is but a puppet of Fate, Vidura did not deny the net of destiny. Yet, he set a lamp of discernment within it, teaching how wise action bends the threads.

The threads of Fate may pull the limb,

Yet speech can heal or harm;

A word in season cools the blood,

Out-of-season—sounds alarm.

Even if destiny binds, timely, truthful speech guides conduct. Gift, sweet words, charms—these please; but innate goodness alone endures.

“Cast off the thorn to save the tree—

One son for many sons;”

Gain that breeds greater loss is loss,

Loss that brings greater gain—won.

Vidura reminds Dhṛtarāṣṭra: he once urged putting aside Duryodhana for the clan’s survival. Lesser loss to avert greater loss is wisdom.

The quarrelsome, the grasping hand,

The shameless, sly, untrue—

From such, O King, withdraw thy steps;

Their gifts and looks undo.

Some faces are inauspicious—accepting from them stains; giving to them endangers. Avoid habitual slanderers and schemers.

When profit wanes, their friendship wanes—

Their praise turns barbed and thin;

A little loss inflames their hearts—

For want of rule within.

Friendship born of need alone dies with the need; the low then revile and injure their former ally.

Sustain thy poor and helpless kin—

And wealth and herds increase;

With kinsmen shared, prosperity

Grows branch and root and peace.

Supporting needy relatives multiplies one’s own children, cattle, and good fortune. Joy with kin is true enjoyment.

“Grant villages to Pāṇḍu’s sons—

O elder, rule thy own;

With them around thee, firm as hills,

No foe can shake thy throne.”

Vidura urges a settlement: restore the Pāṇḍavas; fame and safety follow. The king is old; he must restrain his sons.

When life is brief and death is near,

Why nurse a deed of woe?

Unstart the act that ends in tears—

Before the trumpets blow.

Act now, before a choice leads to irrevocable grief—the death of the Pāṇḍavas or of the Kauravas.

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Wine, sleep, neglect of spies and men,

A heart that shows its play,

Bad counsel kept, unskilful envoys—

Through these, thy secrets stray.

Guard counsel from six conduits: intoxication, sleep, spy-neglect, revealing demeanor, trust in wicked advisers, and inept envoys.

Cast offerings on a cold, grey ash;

Books on an unruled heart;

Words to ears that will not hear—

All perish at the start.

Learning without self-control, counsel to the inattentive, rites on dead coals—all are vain.

Try heart by heart, and eye by eye,

And weigh by deed and tone;

Humility cures taint and loss—

Forgiveness breaks the stone.

Test friends by steady inquiry. Humility heals disgrace; forgiveness conquers wrath; auspicious rites avert ill-omens.

Low birth with virtue, modest, mild,

Outshines a lineage proud;

The truly courteous, dharma-moved,

Is worth a cheering crowd.

Whether low or high born, the one who keeps decorum, truth, and modesty is greater than a hundred of high name.

Where secret joys and honest aims,

And studies move as one—

There friendship never cools nor cracks,

But brightens, sun to sun.

Lasting friendship rests on harmony of pursuits, values, and trust. Avoid the proud, rash, fallen from righteousness.

Love for all beings, humble ways,

Forgiveness—life grows long;

Withdraw the senses from their prey—

Or gods themselves go wrong.

Humility, compassion, forgiveness lengthen life. Sense-withdrawal saves the mind; indulgence ruins even the mighty.

The fallen aim, restored in right,

By patient, virtuous art—

He is the man who tries again

With foresight, will, and heart.

Greatness is perseverance with dharma, foresight about ends, and firm resolve now.

Fit time and place and proper means;

Good books and honest speed;

Straight dealing, counsel with the good—

Thus prospers word and deed.

Prosperity grows from right timing, apt means, study, activity, candor, and frequent company of the good. Perseverance is the root.

The weak, of need, must pardon all;

The strong, from virtue, too;

And they to whom success or loss

Are equal—pardon through.

Forgiveness suits every station: from need, from virtue, or from equanimity.

Seek joy that harms not dharma’s claim

Nor wounds thy honest gain;

But do not feed the sense’s blaze—

Lest ashes be thy brain.

Enjoy what hurts neither virtue nor sound profit; avoid sensual excess.

She flees the grieving, god-denying,

The slothful and unruled;

She avoids the over-liberal proud,

The harsh-vowed, vainglorious, fooled.

Lakṣmī avoids the perpetually sorrowing, idle, undisciplined, the immoderately liberal and proud.

Fire-rites from Veda’s sap;

From scripture—gentle ways;

From women—offspring, lawful joy;

From wealth—delight and alms.

Each thing yields its proper fruit; spending sinful wealth on virtue yields no merit.

In deserts bleak, ‘mid blades upraised,

Through dangers thick as rain—

The steady mind stands up and smiles,

And will not break or wane.

Firmness of mind dispels fear. Roots of prosperity: effort, self-control, skill, care, steadiness, memory, and deliberation.

Tapas for seers, the Veda learned,

In envy lurks the base;

Forgiveness—this the hero’s might,

That crowns the noblest race.

Austerity arms ascetics; scripture arms the learned; envy is the wicked’s weapon; forgiveness is the virtuous power.

Water, roots and fruits and milk,

And ghee; a Brahman’s call;

The teacher’s word, and medicine—

These touch the vow not at all.

Vidura lists exceptions that do not violate ascetic vows.

Meet wrath with patience; crooked hearts

With truth and upright art;

The miser—melt by giving more;

Lies fall to truth’s keen dart.

Forgiveness beats anger; honesty beats the wicked; generosity beats the miser; truth beats falsehood.

Life, fame, and power lengthen out

For those who bend and serve;

Salute the old, attend the wise—

And strength receives its nerve.

Achievement, lifespan, fame, and power grow for those who honor superiors.

Pity the mind without a lamp,

The barren bridal bed;

The famine-stricken folk and fields,

And realms without a head.

To be mourned: ignorance, fruitless union, starving people, and a kingdom leaderless.

Rain’s delay, mountains’ decay,

Women’s anguished sighs—

And word-arrows that pierce within—

These bring the spirit’s cries.

Some griefs are inward wounds—especially cruel speech.

Scum of Veda—study lost;

Of Brahman—vow undone;

Of earth—the Vāhlikas; of men—

Untruth in anyone.

Sharp epigrams marking defects in station or substance; and: sleep isn’t cured by lying down; fire not quenched with fuel; desire not sated by indulgence.

Win friends by gifts, thy foes in war,

Thy bride by food and care;

Desire less—earth’s vastest store

Can never fill one’s share.

Share equally with Pāṇḍu’s sons,

O King, and end the strife;

For destiny may tie our hands—

But dharma steers our life.

Even if no man owns fate, righteous equity is ours to choose. Vidura ends: treat the Pāṇḍavas and thy sons alike—or prosperity will flee.

Vaiśampāyana said:

So did Vidura yoke destiny to duty, urging the blind monarch to choose kinship over conquest. Whether those words would ripen into peace—or fall like seed on stone—was left to the heart of Dhṛtarāṣṭra.