ICEF

Tale 4 · The Vāsiṣṭha Atlas

The Former Vasiṣṭha and Arundhatī

Utpatti · Creation · Mitra III.19 · 924 words

One wish on a hillside became a king's whole life.

Bhūmikā 1 · Śubhecchā (good desire)MediumYour ally · The Serpents Path

The essence

A contented village brahmin, Vasiṣṭha, sits under the pines on his hill and watches a king ride out to hunt below: white umbrellas, banners, elephants, flashing jewels. 'O how charming is royalty,' he thinks, and the wish unfolds in sensory detail, the scent of kunda flowers in his bed-chamber, the faces of his maids painted with camphor. He binds the wish to a lifetime of austerity. As he weakens, his devoted wife Arundhatī asks Sarasvatī that his spirit never leave their house, and the goddess grants it. He dies, and in the empty space of the house his spirit becomes a mighty monarch of three realms 'by virtue of the excessive desire and merit of acts'. Arundhatī pines, dies and rejoins him. Only eight days have passed. Told to Līlā in the third person and then revealed as her own story, the tale shows a single absorbed wish, rehearsed and sustained, building a whole world and binding the one who wished it.

What it teaches

  1. 01

    Envy begins as admiration: 'O how charming is royalty' (III.19.10) is the moment a contented life, free of 'care of gain' (III.18.38), acquires a direction it did not need.

  2. 02

    A wish gains power through sensory elaboration and repetition: the brahmin pictures fragrances, chambers and adornments (III.19.12–13), then sustains the picture with a lifetime of austerities (III.19.14).

  3. 03

    What is held with intensity outlasts the body: his spirit becomes a king 'by virtue of the excessive desire and merit of acts' (III.19.20); unfinished desire is carried forward, not cancelled, by death.

  4. 04

    Love that cannot let go can fix a person in place: the prayer that his spirit never leave the house keeps it in the house, and builds his next world there (III.19.18–19).

  5. 05

    The size of an inner world says nothing about its duration: a reign over three realms has lasted eight days (III.19.21–28).

The Vāsiṣṭha Atlas

This tale’s coordinates

The wound and its virtue

A contented brahmin watches a royal hunt and thinks 'O how charming is royalty' (III.19.10): admiration becomes wanting what another has, and a sensuous fantasy of kunda-scented bed-chambers (III.19.12) displaces the life he already had. Told to Līlā as her own origin, the tale traces a whole reign back to that seed moment, and its Ease is the contentment that came before the wish and the clear sight that the kingdom fits inside a small house (III.19.28).

What it trains

The world begins when attention is seized by a passing spectacle and rehearsed into a wish (III.19.5–13); the tale trains the noticing of that capture, so attention can come back without being forced.

In other yogas

  • Bhagavad Gītā · BG 2.62–63

    The Gītā traces the chain from dwelling on objects to attachment, desire and the loss of discernment; the brahmin's gaze from his hill is that chain in slow motion, ending not in ruin but in a whole world built from desire.

  • Patañjali · Yoga Sūtra · YS 2.7; 2.42

    Patañjali says attachment follows upon pleasure and that contentment brings unsurpassed happiness; the brahmin trades the second for the first the moment the hunt rides past.

  • Buddhist absorption · SN 12

    Dependent origination runs from contact through feeling, craving and clinging to becoming and birth; here a sight, its delight, a wish, a lifetime of austerity bound to it and a royal rebirth follow in that very order (III.19.10–20).

IEAF: Integrative Emotional Alchemy Framework (Gallardo, Frontiers in Psychology, 2026). FP20: the Fundamental Peace Scale. ITM: the Integrative Transformation Model. Parallels in other yogas are contemplative correspondences, not claims of influence.

The tale

Sarasvatī tells this story to Queen Līlā, who has just seen her dead husband reigning in a world inside her own mind and wants to know which world is real. In a corner of the earth, in a vale sheltered by hills, rivers and forests, there lived a brahmin with his wife and children, free of disease, of the care of gain and of fear of any ruler, living on the produce of his cattle and fields, by his fire-worship and his hospitality.

His name was Vasiṣṭha, and he was equal to his famous namesake, the royal priest, in age and dress, in learning and wealth, in everything but profession. His wife was Arundhatī, fair as the moon and as the star that bears her name, like her namesake in virtue and in every way except in soul and body. She passed her days in true love at his side, with a smile like the kumuda flower; she was his whole world.

One day the brahmin was sitting under the shady sarala trees on the tableland of his native hill when the ruler of the land passed below with his train, going to the hunt. The royal family rode with troops and soldiers, and the clamour echoed through the hills and forests. White flappers poured out a stream like moonlight; lifted banners moved like a forest; white umbrellas made a canopy of the sky; the hooves raised dust; elephants with high howdahs moved like towers; wild animals fled on all sides from the roar; gems and jewels flashed on every person.

The brahmin watched the procession and said to himself: how charming is royalty, so full of splendour and prosperity. How shall I become the monarch of all ten directions, with such a retinue of horses, elephants and foot-soldiers, such flags and flappers and blazing umbrellas? When will the breeze carry the fragrance of kunda flowers and the pollen of lotuses into my bed-chamber, to lull me and my consorts to sleep? When shall I adorn the faces of my chamber-maids with camphor and sandal paste, and light up the four quarters with my fame as moonbeams light the night?

From then on he resolved to apply himself vigilantly, for life, to the rigid austerities of his religion. At last infirmity shattered his frame, as sleet batters the lotuses of a lake. Seeing his death approach, his faithful wife faded with fear, like a creeper at the departure of spring. She began to worship the goddess, 'like thyself', Sarasvatī tells Līlā, first for the boon of immortality, which is hard to obtain, and then with a narrower prayer: ordain that my lord's spirit shall not depart from this house after his death. The goddess granted it.

After some time the brahmin died, and his spirit remained in the empty space of that house. There, by virtue of his excessive desire and the merit of his former acts, it took the shape of a mighty man on earth: the victorious monarch of three realms, a fire to the forest of his enemies, steady as Meru amid the winds of business, a wish-fulfilling tree to his suitors, a footstool for scholars, a full moon shedding the beams of good government.

Meanwhile his body dissolved into its elements, and his widow pined until her heart split like a dry pod. She too became a corpse; her spirit, shedding its mortal coil, took its subtle form and met his departed spirit, running to him as a river runs to the sea, glad as flowers in the spring air. His houses, lands and goods still stand in that rocky village, and it is only eight days since the souls of this loving pair were reunited in the hollow vault of their house. In the next breath, the goddess tells Līlā that the brahmin is her husband and that Arundhatī is herself.

The text speaks

Passages from Mitra’s translation (1891–99), cited by book, chapter and verse.

“The Bráhman saw the procession and said to himself, “O how charming is royalty, which is fraught with such splendour and prosperity.” 11. Ah! how shall I become the monarch of all the ten sides, and have such a retinue of horse and elephants and foot soldiers, with a similar train of flags and flappers and blazing umbrellas.”
III.19.10–11The seed moment: perception becomes admiration, admiration becomes a wish for oneself.
“When will the breeze waft the fragrance of _kunda_ flowers, and the farina of lotuses to my bed-chamber, to lull me and my consorts to sleep.”
III.19.12The wish is rehearsed in smell, touch and the drowsiness of sleep: imagery, not idea.
“With these thoughts, the Bráhman was thenceforth determined to apply himself with vigilance, to the rigid austerities of his religion for life.”
III.19.14The wish is bound to sustained effort, which the text later counts as 'merit of acts'.
“She prayed saying:—Ordain, O goddess! that the spirit of my lord may not depart from this sepulchre after his demise: and I granted her request.”
III.19.18The second intention, a spouse's fear of separation, fixes the place where the new world will arise.
“This aeriform spirit of the Bráhman, assumed the shape of a mighty man on earth, by virtue of the excessive desire and merit of acts in his former state of existence.”
III.19.20The mechanism stated plainly: desire plus action carried across death becomes form.
“The houses, lands and all the immovable properties and movable riches of this Bráhman, are still existent in that rocky village, and it is only eight days past, that the souls of this loving pair, are reunited in the hollow vault of their house.”
III.19.28The time contrast that the whole Līlā cycle will unfold: a reign inside eight days.

What the trance sees

ABS

Absorption

III.19.5–13

In the textSeated under the sarala trees, the brahmin is drawn into the passing spectacle (flappers 'a stream of moon light', banners 'a moving forest', elephants 'moving towers') and then into an inner scene of his own royal life: 'When will the breeze waft the fragrance of kunda flowers ... to lull me and my consorts to sleep.'

In the clinicAbsorption (Tellegen & Atkinson 1974): total engagement with a vivid external scene that passes into multisensory self-generated imagery, the same capacity that goal-directed imagery and mental rehearsal draw on.

PHS

Post-hypnotic carry-over

III.19.14; III.19.19–20

In the textThe wish formed on the hillside is 'thenceforth' sustained by lifelong austerities, and after death the spirit 'assumed the shape of a mighty man on earth, by virtue of the excessive desire and merit of acts in his former state of existence'.

In the clinicPost-hypnotic suggestion and autosuggestion (Coué 1922): an intention repeatedly rehearsed with feeling continues to operate after the state in which it was formed has ended, here beyond death itself.

TD

Time distortion

III.19.21–28

In the textThe spirit becomes 'the victorious monarch of the three realms', subjugating earth, heaven and the nether regions, yet 'it is only eight days past' since the pair died.

In the clinicTime distortion (Cooper & Erickson 1954): an entire subjective reign is condensed into eight days of outer time; the contrast is made explicit in the frame (III.20.27; III.29.34).

GRIEF

Grief and loss work

III.19.16; III.19.25–27

In the textSeeing his death approach, Arundhatī 'was fading away with fear'; widowed, she 'was pining away in her sorrow, and her heart was rent in twain', until she 'became a dead body like her husband' and ran to meet his spirit 'as rapidly as a river runs to meet the sea'.

In the clinicAnticipatory grief (Lindemann 1944) and the bereavement mortality of a surviving spouse: the text depicts grief so total that the survivor follows the dead, a pattern that in clinical work signals risk.

MET

Therapeutic metaphor / reframe

III.18.37–38; III.19.17; III.20.1

In the textSarasvatī answers Līlā's question about reality with the story of 'a Bráhman with his wife and children', drops a hint inside it (Arundhatī worshipped the goddess 'like thyself'), and only afterwards reveals: 'his wife Arundhati, is no other than thyself'.

In the clinicIndirect metaphor told about a third person and later identified with the listener, Erickson's 'my friend John' approach: the listener takes in the story's logic before the defences that self-reference would raise.

Read upward — stage 1 at the bottom, stage 7 at the top

  7. Integration zone
    Therapeutic motivation — disillusionment with suffering becomes readiness for change. The first honest wish to be free is itself the induction.

A note on what this map claims. The alignment between stages of knowledge and trance depths is a clinical map — a heuristic correspondence proposed for research, not a claim of identity between contemplative attainment and hypnotic depth.

Bhūmikā 1 · Śubhecchā

The tale stands at, and slightly below, the threshold of the first stage: the brahmin's austerities serve a wish for royalty (III.19.11–14) and Arundhatī first prays for immortality (III.19.17). It is the negative case of śubhecchā, desire that builds a world instead of seeking release from it, and it is the lesson that turns Līlā toward inquiry (III.20.1–6).

Zone · Medium

The brahmin's wishing is an eyes-open absorption in a passing spectacle that turns into vivid inner imagery (III.19.5–13), a medium-depth daydream state; the post-mortem world is reported from outside, not entered.

In the therapy room

Indications

  • Exploring how a single desire, often born of comparison, has shaped a life's choices (motivational and values work)
  • Envy and status comparison triggered by seeing others' success
  • Anticipatory grief in couples facing illness or old age
  • Caregiver fear of separation, and the wish to keep a dying partner 'in the house'
  • Teaching clients how imagery and repetition give an intention power, for good or ill

Cautions

  • Arundhatī dies of grief and 'rejoins' her husband (III.19.25–27): never present death as a route to reunion; screen bereaved clients for suicidal ideation
  • Do not use the tale as 'manifestation' teaching: read as wish-creates-world it can foster magical thinking and self-blame for illness or misfortune
  • The tale shows a wish that binds, not one that frees; use it to examine intentions, not to install new cravings
  • The revelation that the story is the listener's own (III.20.1) can feel like an ambush if used abruptly in therapy; let the client draw the parallel
From the bookThe full clinical note

Indications. Exploring how a single desire, often born of comparison, has organised a life's choices; envy and status comparison triggered by others' success; anticipatory grief in couples facing illness or old age; caregivers' fear of separation and the wish to keep a dying partner "in the house"; teaching clients how imagery and repetition give an intention power, for good or ill.

How to use it. Tell it in the third person, as Sarasvatī did, and let the client draw the parallel; the goddess's abrupt reveal (III.20.1) can feel like an ambush in a therapy room. In trance, trace one wish back to its procession and forward to the world it has built, then ask what the client wants to do with it. With bereaved or anticipating partners, the tale opens a conversation about the difference between keeping a bond and holding someone in place.

Cautions. Arundhatī dies of grief and rejoins her husband (III.19.25–27): never present death as a route to reunion, and screen bereaved clients for suicidal ideation. Do not use the tale as "manifestation" teaching; read as wish-creates-world it fosters magical thinking and self-blame for illness and misfortune. The tale shows a wish that binds; use it to examine intentions, not to install new cravings. Practitioners of between-lives work will recognise the spirit lingering in the house and the spouse who follows (Newton 1994); present such material as parallel, never as proof, and never to a grieving client as a promise.

The practice

Seed and Harvest: tracing one wish to the world it builds

  1. Sit as the brahmin did, under trees on a hill, at ease, with nothing lacking (III.18.38; III.19.5).
  2. Let a procession pass below: something you have admired in another person's life. Notice the first thought, 'O how charming' (III.19.6–10).
  3. Let the wish unfold in detail, as he did: the scents, the rooms, the people, the sleep at the end of the day. Notice what happens in the body as it grows (III.19.11–13).
  4. Watch years of effort stream out of that one moment, and the world they build: what the wish has organised in your life (III.19.14; III.19.20–23).
  5. Now see from the doorway of the small house: the whole kingdom fits inside it, and has lasted only eight days (III.19.24; III.19.28).
  6. Notice who in your life holds you in place out of love and fear, as Arundhatī did, and what it would be to let them, and yourself, move freely (III.19.16–18).
  7. Choose consciously what to do with the wish: keep it, refine it, or let it go back into the open sky.
  8. Re-alert: come down from the hill, open the eyes, and name one thing you already have that the brahmin had before the procession passed.

Practise with a qualified professional if you have a history of dissociation, trauma or psychosis.

From the book · to be read aloudThe full guided script

Seed and Harvest

Read slowly, aloud; about fifteen minutes. Sit upright.

Before you begin. This practice examines a wish; it does not install one. If you are recently bereaved, or have thoughts of joining someone who has died, do not use it alone; speak with a clinician. If you live with a psychotic or dissociative illness, practise only with professional support. Never practise while driving, operating anything, or in or near water.

How to return at any moment. Open your eyes, press your feet into the floor, and say your name and the date aloud.

Sit as he sat, under trees on a hill, at ease. Let the breath settle. For a moment, notice that nothing is lacking. The air, the seat, the light. Rest in that.

Now let a procession pass below. Something you have admired in another person's life: their work, their house, their ease, their love. Watch it go by. Notice the first thought, the one that says, Oh, how charming.

Let the wish unfold, as his did, in detail. The rooms. The people. The scent on the air at the end of the day. Notice what happens in the body as it grows: warmth, tightening, a lean forward.

Now watch years stream out of that one moment. The choices it made for you. The effort. The world it has built around you, room by room.

And now step back to the doorway of a small house, and look in. The whole kingdom fits inside it. It has lasted, by the clock outside, eight days.

Notice too who in your life holds you in place out of love and fear, and whom you hold. Let there be room for everyone to move.

Now choose, freely: keep the wish, refine it, or let it go back into the open sky. Any of the three is yours to choose.

(Silence: one minute.)

Come down the hill, slowly.

I will count from one to five, and on five your eyes open.

One. The breath is full and ordinary.

Two. Feel your feet and your weight on the seat.

Three. The sounds of the room return.

Four. Move your hands; take one deeper breath.

Five. Eyes open. Here. Now. Fully alert.

Say your name aloud, the day and the place, and name three things you can see. Then name one thing you already have, as the brahmin had before the procession passed. If you feel heavy or sad, stand, drink some water, and speak with someone before going on.

Meta Pets World · Your ally · Meta Pet 54

The brahmin on the hill and the serpent's hunger

The Serpents Path card
54The Serpents PathI follow the serpents path of wisdom.

The Serpent's Path walks with the former Vasiṣṭha because his predicament is Greed born of admiration: a contented man sees a king ride by and wants royalty. The fierce discipline he pours into that wish is Aspiration still bent towards the world, and Ascension is the road the tale shows by contrast, the contentment he already had and a kingdom that, seen from the doorway, fits inside a small house.

  1. Shadow · what you avoidGreed

    Greed: from his hill the brahmin watches the hunt and thinks, 'O how charming is royalty… how shall I become the monarch of all the ten sides' (III.19.10–11).

  2. Gift · what is hidden in itAspiration

    Aspiration: he 'was thenceforth determined to apply himself with vigilance, to the rigid austerities of his religion for life' (III.19.14); the energy of aspiration is real, though here it still serves the wish.

  3. Essence · what you embodyAscension

    Ascension: the tale reveals that the reign over three realms has lasted only eight days, inside 'the hollow vault of their house' (III.19.28); rising means seeing that, not ruling more.

The Serpent's Path, and a happy man on a hill watching a king ride by. Admire freely. Then check your pockets: you may already have what the procession promised.

— Felicia
Today’s contemplation

When the brahmin's wish swallowed a whole life and returned him to his own small house, what was he really hungry for, and what is the procession you keep watching from your hill?

To close the night

Tonight, write one honest sentence about something you envied today, and something you already have.

The Ally Journey · about 15 minutes

Light trance, eyes open if you prefer. For the full, deeper script, see “The practice” above and its cautions.

  1. Threshold: sit at ease, as if under trees on a hill, eyes open or half-closed. Take three slow breaths and let the belly soften. This is the Umbral.
  2. The tale in one line: a contented brahmin sees a royal hunt, wishes for royalty, and his wish builds a kingdom that lasts eight days inside his own house (III.19.10; III.19.28).
  3. Meet the card: look at The Serpent's Path for a few breaths. Follow its curve with your eyes. Read the affirmation once: I follow the serpent's path of wisdom.
  4. Shadow: what procession passed below your hill this week, someone's house, title, body or life? Recall the first thought, 'O how charming', and where you felt it.
  5. Gift: ask what quality you were really admiring, perhaps ease, dignity or beauty. Choose one small way to grow that quality in yourself this week, without acquiring anything.
  6. Essence: now see the whole procession from a doorway, small and brief. For three breaths say the affirmation, and notice what was already enough before it passed.
  7. Return: come down from the hill. Feel your feet and hands, open your eyes fully, name one thing you already have, and write tonight's honest line.
Open the card in Meta Pets World Alchemical Journey in the app Begin a 30-day Bond The card on this siteVisit Khandro All sixty-four allies →

The 30-day Bond

The serpent ate its own tail: what is my wish of today really hungry for, and is it already in the house?

The Sister · Khandro

Tibetan · Gangtok, Sikkim · Om Vajrasattva Hūṃ

Visit Khandro, the Tibetan dakini practitioner of Gangtok, whose name means one who moves through the sky; her mantra, Om Vajrasattva Hūṃ, is a purification that suits a wish asking to be turned upward.

Guided Meditation

#54 · The Serpents Path

Voice & guidance: Prof. Luis Miguel GallardoWatch on YouTube (ES also available)
For facilitatorsA session with “The Former Vasiṣṭha and Arundhatī” and The Serpents Path

Aim. To help the person trace one admiring wish to the life it has organised, and choose consciously whether to keep, refine or release it.

ITM 2 Conscious Recognition. The tale is a mirror for seeing how a single wish binds a life, which is the moment of Conscious Recognition: the pattern is noticed before it is changed.

The session (60–75 min)

  1. Arrival and Umbral: three slow breaths together; ask what the person has been admiring or envying lately (8 min)
  2. Telling the tale: a 4-minute version of the brahmin on the hill, his austerities and the kingdom inside the house; point to the tale page for the full text; let the person draw any parallel with their own life (5 min)
  3. The card: show The Serpent's Path, read the affirmation and the koan, and ask what the serpent was hungry for (7 min)
  4. Shadow inquiry: follow one admiration from first glimpse to the efforts, habits and years it has organised; name what it costs and what it protects against (12 min)
  5. Trance practice: Seed and Harvest, using the full guided script on the tale page at LIGHT to MEDIUM depth, an eyes-open daydream state like the brahmin's; include the step on who holds the person in place out of love (15 min)
  6. Gift and Essence integration: separate the quality from the object; decide to keep, refine or let go of the wish, and name what was already enough (12 min)
  7. Closing and Bond: re-alert, name one thing the person already has; set the 30-day Bond with the koan variation (7 min)

Integration questions

  • What quality were you truly admiring, and where does it already live in you?
  • Who holds you in place out of love and fear, as Arundhatī did, and whom do you hold?
  • If this wish were aimed at growth rather than possession, what would you do differently tomorrow?

In a circle

In a circle, tell the tale and pass the card while each person silently recalls one procession they have watched from their own hill. Lead Seed and Harvest at light depth for the whole group, eyes open allowed. In pairs, each person names the object they admired and then, with the partner's help, the quality underneath it; the partner simply asks, 'And what is that for?' until the quality appears. Gather for a round in which everyone says one quality they will grow without acquiring anything, and one thing that is already enough. Keep the tone light and free of moralising: admiration is not a fault, only a seed to be read.

Cautions

  • Arundhatī dies of grief and rejoins her husband: never present death as a route to reunion, and screen bereaved people for suicidal ideation.
  • Do not teach the tale as 'manifestation'; read as wish-creates-world it can feed magical thinking and self-blame for illness or misfortune.
  • The tale shows a wish that binds; use it to examine intentions, not to install new cravings.
  • Do not spring the revelation that the story is the listener's own; let the person draw the parallel.

Training and certification in the Meta Pets Method: metapetsworld.org/facilitators ↗

The correspondence between tales and Meta Pets is contemplative: the Yoga Vāsiṣṭha does not contain the Meta Pets; each tale enacts its ally’s arc. Felicia is an artificial-intelligence companion; her words are contemplative reflections, not clinical advice.

The song

From the cycle The Sixty-Four Tales

Eight Days in the House

Oṃ Sarasvatyai Namaḥ

Title: Eight Days in the House Título: Ocho días en la casa

Figure — The former Vasiṣṭha, a brahmin of the hills, and his wife Arundhatī, told by Sarasvatī to Līlā before she learns they are herself and Padma.

Where in the text — Book III (Utpatti Prakaraṇa), Mitra chapter 19 (with the frame of 18.37–38 and 20.1).

Hypnotic phenomenon the song enacts — ABS and TD: a lullaby rocks one wish into fuller sensory detail, verse by verse, until it becomes a palace and a reign; then a single voice shows the whole reign held inside eight days.

Mantra — Oṃ Sarasvatyai Namaḥ (ॐ सरस्वत्यै नमः). Source: traditional nāma-mantra of Sarasvatī, the dative homage formula of her worship. Meaning: "Om, homage to Sarasvatī", the goddess who tells this story and who granted Arundhatī's prayer.

Lyrics (English)

Performance: a lullaby rocking in 6/8. A man's voice sings the procession and the wish, each verse richer than the last; a woman's voice enters in the third verse. In the bridge the two lines meet and the harmonium swells into a royal court; then everything falls away to one drone, and the mantra is sung once, quietly. The outro is the goddess, one voice.

Verse 1 — the brahmin Under the sarala pines on my hill I watched the king ride down to the hunt: white umbrellas roofing the sky, banners moving like a forest, elephants like walking towers, jewels flashing through the dust.

Verse 2 O how charming is a crown. When will the breeze bring kunda flowers and lotus pollen to my bed to lull me and my queens to sleep? When shall I paint my maidens' faces with camphor and with sandal paste? From that day, hard vows, all my life.

Chorus Hush, the kunda flowers are coming, hush, the camphor and the sandal, the white umbrellas, the elephant towers, all of it in one small house.

Verse 3 — Arundhatī His frame broke like lotuses in sleet. I faded like a creeper when the spring goes. Goddess, I asked first that he never die; then only this: don't let him leave this house. (the goddess, spoken) And I granted it.

Chorus (both voices) Hush, the kunda flowers are coming, hush, the camphor and the sandal, the white umbrellas, the elephant towers, all of it in one small house.

Bridge (mantra) In the empty house he rose a king, lord of the three realms; she came to him as a river runs to meet the sea. (the court swells, then falls away to one drone) Oṃ Sarasvatyai Namaḥ (Om, homage to Sarasvatī)

Outro — Sarasvatī (one voice, over the drone) It is only eight days. His house and his fields still stand in that rocky village. Go back up the hill, under the pines, before the king rides by. Your fire is lit, your cattle fed, your wife beside you, smiling like the kumuda flower. Let the dust of the hunt go down the valley. Then walk home.

Letra (castellano cantable)

Interpretación: una nana que mece en 6/8. Una voz de hombre canta el cortejo y el deseo, cada verso más rico que el anterior; una voz de mujer entra en el tercero. En el puente las dos líneas se encuentran y el armonio crece hasta ser una corte real; luego todo cae a un solo bordón y el mantra se canta una vez, en voz baja. El final es la diosa, una sola voz.

Verso 1 — el brahmán Bajo los pinos sarala de mi colina vi al rey bajar de caza: sombrillas blancas techando el cielo, estandartes como un bosque en marcha, elefantes como torres que andan, joyas brillando en el polvo.

Verso 2 ¡Qué encantadora es una corona! ¿Cuándo traerá la brisa flores de kunda y polen de loto hasta mi lecho para dormirme junto a mis reinas? ¿Cuándo pintaré el rostro a mis doncellas con alcanfor y pasta de sándalo? Desde ese día, votos duros, toda mi vida.

Estribillo Calla, que vienen las flores de kunda, calla, el alcanfor y el sándalo, las sombrillas blancas, las torres de elefantes, todo dentro de una casa pequeña.

Verso 3 — Arundhatī Su cuerpo se quebró como el loto en el granizo. Yo me secaba como la enredadera cuando se va la primavera. Diosa, primero pedí que no muriera; luego solo esto: que no deje esta casa. (la diosa, hablado) Y se lo concedí.

Estribillo (las dos voces) Calla, que vienen las flores de kunda, calla, el alcanfor y el sándalo, las sombrillas blancas, las torres de elefantes, todo dentro de una casa pequeña.

Puente (mantra) En la casa vacía se alzó rey, señor de los tres reinos; ella fue hacia él como corre el río a encontrarse con el mar. (la corte crece, y luego cae a un solo bordón) Oṃ Sarasvatyai Namaḥ (Om, homenaje a Sarasvatī)

Final — Sarasvatī (una voz, sobre el bordón) Solo han pasado ocho días. Su casa y sus campos siguen en aquella aldea de roca. Vuelve a subir la colina, bajo los pinos, antes de que pase el rey. Tu fuego encendido, tus vacas comidas, tu mujer a tu lado, sonriendo como la flor kumuda. Deja que el polvo de la caza baje al valle. Y luego, vuelve a casa.

One line to carry

EN: Before the procession passed, you already had it all. ES: Antes de que pasara el cortejo, ya lo tenías todo.

Libreto note

Sarasvatī tells this tale to Līlā before telling her it is her own. A hill brahmin who lacks nothing watches a king ride to the hunt and says, O how charming is royalty, and the wish fills with kunda flowers and camphor until it is a life. His wife, afraid, prays that his spirit never leave the house; it stays, and builds three realms inside it. The ancient authors knew what the clinician sees: a rehearsed image outlives the moment it was made. A lullaby in 6/8 that rocks the wish into a palace; a second voice that holds him there; then one drone, and the goddess: eight days. Go back up the hill, before the procession, and walk home.

Source check

Source check (Mitra, Book III)

  1. The brahmin "sitting once under the shady sarala trees, on the table land of his native hill"; the hunting train: "white flappers shed a stream of moon light", "lifted banners appeared as a moving forest", "white umbrellas made the sky a canopy", dust from the hoofs, "lines of elephants … as moving towers", "gems and jewels … flashing": ch. 19, vv. 5–9.
  2. "O how charming is royalty"; "the fragrance of kunda flowers, and the farina of lotuses to my bed-chamber, to lull me and my consorts to sleep"; "adorn the countenances of my chamber maids with camphor and sandal paste"; "rigid austerities of his religion for life": ch. 19, vv. 10–14.
  3. His frame shattered "as the sleets of snowfall, batter the blooming lotuses"; his wife "fading away with fear, as a creeper withers at the departure of spring"; her prayer first for immortality, then "that the spirit of my lord may not depart from this sepulchre … and I granted her request": ch. 19, vv. 15–18.
  4. His spirit in "the vacuity of that abode" becomes "the victorious monarch of the three realms"; she advances to him "as rapidly as a river runs to meet the sea": ch. 19, vv. 19–21, 27.
  5. "The houses, lands … are still existent in that rocky village, and it is only eight days past": ch. 19, v. 28; Arundhatī's smile "resembling the Kumuda flower": ch. 19, v. 4; the brahmin's life of "fire-worship and hospitality, with the produce of his kine and lands", "free from … care of gain": ch. 18, v. 38.

Read the full text

Source: Vihari-Lala Mitra, The Yoga-Vasishtha Maharamayana of Valmiki (1891–99), public domain.

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luismiguel@shooliniuniversity.comThe FP20 scaleWorld Happiness FoundationORCID 0009-0005-3222-6092

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