Stories of the Great Bharata - A Retelling

Arc 2 - Vidhura Neeti Parva Chapter 12 - On upright pursuit and the river of the soul

Again Vidura spoke, O King, garlanding truth with restraint. He praised the man who keeps within his measure, and he set before Dhṛtarāṣṭra the river-road of the soul.

The good man bows, then walks his span,

Not overstepping strength;

The satisfied among the good

Can gift him joy at length.

Fame ripens for one who abandons pride and pursues within capacity; the sattvic favor him.

Cast off the glittering, crooked prize—

Shed sin as serpents slough;

The foe falls off; the heart sleeps light—

Straight paths are guard enough.

Let a great object go if stained by adharma. Peace follows clean renunciation.

A triumph forged by lying tongue,

Deceit against the crown,

And feigning pure before one’s guide—

These three drag dharma down.

Vidura ranks false-victory, treachery to the king, and hypocrisy before the guru as heinous.

Envy, boast, and grasp of death—

These fell a rising tree;

Haste, neglect of the preceptor—

Knowledge’s enemies.

Envy and vainglory break fortune; carelessness toward teachers blunts learning.

Sloth, distraction, clouded wit,

Fidget, gossip’s snare;

Haughtiness and hungry greed—

These starve the lamp of care.

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Seven student-faults: idleness, inattention, confusion, restlessness, time-killing, haughtiness, covetousness.

Learners must loosen pleasure’s knot;

Pleasure lovers, leave the lore;

Two boats opposed upon one stream—

Ride one, or sink mid-shore.

Deep study and constant indulgence do not share the same seat.

Fire eats all wood, the ocean streams,

Death all that draw the breath;

Desire devours even beauty’s bloom—

No bound to hungry Death.

Certain forces are never sated—a warning against hope unbridled and lust.

Hope gnaws at patience; Yama growth;

Wrath strangles prosperity;

Miserliness smothers fame, neglect kills kine—

A sage’s curse kills royalty.

A compact ledger of moral causes and effects—guard against each.

Keep goats, and brass, and silver bright,

Honey, antidotes near by;

Birds, Veda-wise, old kin, high-born

In want—let none deny.

He lists beings and things that bring auspice and deserve shelter and honour.

Sandal, lyre and mirror fair,

Clarified ghee, and conch of sea;

Iron, copper, śālagrāma stone—

For god and guest’s piety.

Household requisites for worship and welcome keep the home ritually alive.

Forsake not virtue—though for life,

Nor fear, nor gold’s demand;

Contentment is the sovereign wealth—

All else is sinking sand.

Dharma is enduring, pleasures and pains are passing. Contentment is the topmost gain.

Kings who held a corn-rich earth

Lay down to one same pyre;

The son is borne like firewood there—

Birds and flames divide the hire.

Wealth passes to others; only merit and sin go with us. Therefore, store righteousness.

The soul—a river, clear yet deep;

Its bath is merit’s light;

Truth its water, banks self-rule,

Kindness—its waves in flight.

He maps inner pilgrimage: satya the water, dama the banks, dayā the wave; bathe there and be purified.

Five streams rush loud—the senses five;

In eddies—births that spin;

Desire and anger, crocodiles—

Now cross with discipline.

Ride self-control as raft across the samsaric flood.

With patience curb both lust and greed;

Hands, feet—by watchful eyes;

Eyes and ears—by mind well-reined;

Mind and speech—by righteous deeds.

A staircase of inner governance—organs by attention; attention by mind; mind by conduct.

Brahman shines by truth and rites;

Kṣatra by guard and sacred fight;

Vaiśya by trade and timely gifts;

Śūdra by service pure and right.

Each varṇa ascends through its own dharma—without rivalry.

The royal vow has slipped his hand—

O set the kingly bow;

Restore the son of Pāṇḍu’s rule,

And set the realm a-glow.

Vidura urges: re-enthrone Yudhiṣṭhira in Kṣatriya duty; order and merit will revive.

Hearing this, the old king sighed, “My mind bends your way—until I meet Duryodhana. No creature averts Fate. Destiny will have her course.”

Fate knits the warp; yet man the weft—

Choose threads that will not tear;

If dharma guides the shuttle’s hand,

Even Fate must wear it fair.

Vidura concedes Destiny, yet insists on righteous exertion: choose virtue now, reconcile the houses, and seat Yudhiṣṭhira in his rightful charge. Thus the soul’s river runs clear of the dark regions he warned of, and the fear of here and hereafter dissolves.

Vaiśampāyana said:

So ended that counsel, bright and stern. Whether the blind lord would take the raft of restraint, or drift where wrath and hope devour—this, O Janamejaya, was left to the quick of his heart.