Ninth Skandha

The Ninth Skandha descends deeply into that vast, glorious lineage of the Solar and Lunar dynasties from which almost every great hero of Indian sacred history, from Rama to Krishna, arose. Shukadeva began this account with an exceedingly wondrous, strange story of Sudyumna, eldest son of Vaivasvata Manu.

Once, while out hunting, Sudyumna unknowingly entered a special, sacred forest where Lord Shiva, while sporting with Parvati, had cursed any man entering this forest to instantly become a woman — this curse having been established at Shiva's own request, to protect Parvati's modesty.

The moment Sudyumna entered this forest, he was instantly transformed into an exceedingly beautiful woman, Ila, and in this very form he met Budha (son of the moon), by whom she bore a son named Pururava — this very Pururava later became the founding ancestor of the entire Lunar dynasty.

At last, through the gracious mediation of the sage Vasishtha and pleased by his special austerity, Lord Shiva granted Sudyumna this special boon: that he would spend his life alternately, one month as a woman and one month as a man, and at last, being fully restored to his male form, ruled over a portion of his father's kingdom — this story presents a wondrous example of the mysterious, interwoven nature of fate, curse, and boon.

Shukadeva went on to give a sequential, detailed description of Vaivasvata Manu's other sons — Ikshvaku, Nriga, Sharyati, Narishyanta, Pramshu, Nabhaga, Dishta, Karusha, and Prishadhra — along with their extensive descendants.

Among them, the lineage of the eldest son, Ikshvaku, proved the most important and extensive, from which the royal dynasty of Ayodhya was in due course established — the very dynasty that was to witness the incarnation of Lord Rama.

He also gave a brief account of the descendants of the other sons, showing how from this single Manu arose many kingdoms and dynasties of the earth, each with its own particular stories and teachings, to be described in turn in the chapters that follow.

This chapter describes an exceedingly interesting and instructive story of the sage Saubhari. While practicing austerity for a long time underwater in the Yamuna river, the sage one day saw a large fish playing lovingly with its many young, which awakened in his own mind an intense desire for marriage and family happiness.

Driven by this desire, Saubhari went to King Mandhata and asked to marry one of his fifty beautiful daughters. The king, though he did not wish for his daughter to marry an old, ascetic sage, nevertheless, out of fear of the sage's anger, allowed him to choose for himself which of his daughters he wished.

Saubhari, by his yogic power, instantly assumed the form of an exceedingly handsome young prince and presented himself before the daughters, so impressing them that all fifty daughters together expressed their wish to marry him alone, and the sage, by his yogic power, arranged separate, magnificent palaces and complete marital happiness for all fifty queens.

After years immersed in this boundless family happiness and splendor, Saubhari at last engaged in a profound self-examination and clearly realized that this worldly happiness, however vast and satisfying it might appear, could never provide true, lasting contentment, but only further inflames desire — with this profound realization, he renounced his entire family and splendor and returned once again to the forest on the path of austerity and renunciation, teaching that sensory enjoyment, however extensive, can never truly satisfy desire.

Shukadeva now began an exceedingly inspiring story of King Ambarisha, a sovereign emperor who, though master of the entire earth, regarded this boundless splendor as fleeting and binding, and remained entirely unattached to it.

Ambarisha made a firm practice of keeping all his senses continually and systematically engaged in service to the Lord — his mind in meditation upon the Lord's feet, his speech in singing the Lord's glories, his hands in cleaning the temple, his ears in hearing the Lord's stories, his eyes in beholding the Lord's image, and even his feet in pilgrimage — so that not a single moment of his life passed without remembrance of the Lord.

This method is called "yukta-vairagya," that is, renunciation attained not by fleeing worldly things but by dedicating those very things and powers to the Lord's service, and Ambarisha's life became the finest, ideal example of this principle, for despite his immense splendor he never became attached to wife, son, or kingdom, nor did he ever even desire liberation, for remaining continually in the Lord's service was itself his supreme joy.

Once, while observing the Dvadashi fast in Vrindavan — which must necessarily be broken at the proper time on the day following the Ekadashi fast — Ambarisha was about to break his fast at exactly that appointed, auspicious hour when the great but exceedingly short-tempered sage Durvasa suddenly arrived as a guest at his door.

The king welcomed him with the utmost honor and invited him to eat, but Durvasa, before accepting food, went to bathe in the Yamuna river and became so absorbed in his deep meditation that the auspicious hour for breaking the fast was passing, he delaying his return, whether deliberately or unknowingly, for an exceedingly long time.

Ambarisha, on the advice of learned brahmins, in order to fulfill only the formal, technical requirement of the vow, without taking any food, took merely a sip of water to formally complete the fast, balancing both his duty and his hospitality while awaiting his guest.

Durvasa, learning through his yogic power that the king had taken water before his return, flared up in insult and rage, and, plucking a hair from his matted locks, produced a terrible, fire-like demon, which immediately attacked the king in an attempt to destroy him. Ambarisha, though entirely capable and courageous enough to defend himself, offered no resistance and spoke no word in anger, but simply stood still and calm, relying wholly and solely on the Lord's protection, knowing that a true devotee's protection belongs to the Lord himself.

The king's complete, desireless surrender was not in vain: Lord Vishnu's own divine Sudarshana chakra appeared, reduced that fire-demon to ashes in an instant, and then, without stopping, began to pursue Durvasa himself.

The terrified Durvasa, trying to escape this invincible chakra, ran here and there through all three worlds, seeking refuge first in Brahma's own assembly, then going to Lord Shiva on Kailasa, but both clearly expressed their inability, saying that this chakra, which is always sworn to protect a sincere devotee, lay beyond even their own control.

At last, even upon reaching Lord Vishnu himself, he was given the very same counsel: that the only solution to this crisis was to go himself to that very devotee, King Ambarisha, whom he had tried to harm, and humbly beg his forgiveness, for only a devotee's forgiveness could pacify this chakra.

Utterly humbled, terrified, and exhausted, Durvasa at last returned to King Ambarisha himself, falling at his very feet and begging forgiveness, which the tender-hearted Ambarisha immediately and gladly granted, without any vengeance or pride, himself humbly praying to the Sudarshana chakra to forgive this repentant sage — thus this story shows the boundless power and forgiveness that naturally dwells in the heart of a true devotee.

Shukadeva went on to describe other exceedingly important kings of the Ikshvaku dynasty, foremost among them the unforgettable story of King Harishchandra, regarded as truthfulness personified and living.

The sage Vishvamitra, to test Harishchandra's truthfulness to the utmost, asked him to give his entire kingdom in charity, and then also demanded a fee for the gift. Harishchandra, remaining true to his word, sold even his beloved wife Taramati and son Rohit into slavery to fulfill this fee, and at last sold even himself into the hands of an outcaste.

Working as a servant at a cremation ground, he was forced to endure the unbearable agony of collecting a fee from his own wife even for his own son's funeral rites; yet, amid this ultimate, unimaginable calamity and trial, Harishchandra did not waver in the slightest from the truth and word once given. At last Dharmaraja himself appeared (who was in truth this very test devised by Vishvamitra) and fully restored to him his kingdom, family, and honor, granting him a permanent, honored place in heaven.

Shukadeva went on to tell the story of King Sagara, who received this extraordinary name because his mother had been given poison (gara) during pregnancy by a co-wife, yet he was born alive along with (sa) that poison. Sagara later organized a great horse-sacrifice, whose sacred horse was stolen out of jealousy by Indra.

Sagara's sixty thousand sons, born to his queen Sumati, who had received the boon of sixty thousand sons at once, digging up the entire earth in their hasty, furious search for this stolen horse, at last found it tied near the hermitage of the sage Kapila (himself an incarnation of the Lord), who was absorbed in deep meditative trance.

In their haste and pride, without any investigation or proof, these sixty thousand princes immediately accused Kapila himself of the theft and attempted to insult and attack him; enraged by this unforgivable offense and disrespect, a single sharp glance from Kapila reduced all sixty thousand princes to ashes in that very instant.

Anshuman, grandson of Sagara through his second queen Keshini, searching for the ashes of his ancestors, at last reached Kapila and humbly obtained the horse from him, and also received the profound knowledge that the liberation of these incinerated ancestors' souls was possible only through the touch of the sacred Ganga river's waters — this very prophecy becomes the background for the extraordinary, long austerity of his great-grandson Bhagiratha, described in the next chapter.

Many generations later, King Bhagiratha, a descendant of Sagara, with the firm resolve to complete this unfinished task of his ancestors' liberation, went to the Himalayas and began an extraordinary, prolonged, and exceedingly severe austerity to obtain the celestial river Ganga from Brahma himself.

Pleased by years of this unbroken austerity, Brahma granted permission for the Ganga to descend upon the earth, but a serious problem arose: the Ganga's tremendous, celestial force was so great that if she fell directly upon the earth, she could shatter the entire earth with her own impact.

Bhagiratha performed further austerity to resolve this problem and pleased Lord Shiva, who fully received and contained the Ganga's tremendous force within his vast matted locks, and then gradually, in a controlled manner, let her flow behind Bhagiratha.

Under Bhagiratha's guidance, the Ganga at last reached the place where the ashes of Sagara's sixty thousand sons lay, and by the mere touch of her sacred waters, all those long-dead souls instantly attained liberation — in this extraordinary gratitude, the river received her permanent, honored name "Bhagirathi," in honor of that great, resolute great-grandson whose unbroken austerity brought her down from heaven to earth.

Right at the very center of this vast genealogical Skandha sits the immortal story of Lord Rama, told here naturally in far briefer form than in the Ramayana, since the Bhagavata Purana assumes that its listener, including King Parikshit, is already well acquainted with this story.

Yet Shukadeva does not fail in the slightest to touch upon all its necessary, principal episodes: Rama's fourteen years of exile in fulfillment of the promise given to his father Dasharatha; the treacherous abduction of Mother Sita by the ten-headed lord of Lanka, Ravana; the construction, with the tireless help of Hanuman and the vast monkey army, of that wondrous bridge across the sea, whose stones floated upon the water themselves.

This is followed by a brief but powerful account of the terrible war in Lanka, the slaying of many great demon warriors including Kumbhakarna and Meghanada, and at last Ravana's own downfall, along with mention of Rama's triumphant, joyous return to Ayodhya after the long fourteen-year wait, where the entire city blazed with lamps.

Rama, returning to Ayodhya, ruled as the supreme ideal of righteous, just governance — a reign so excellent, so joyful, and so just that it gave the Indian language and culture its permanent, most beloved word, "Rama-rajya," still regarded today as synonymous with ideal, righteous rule.

Shukadeva described in detail the extraordinary prosperity, abundance, and social justice of Rama's reign; in this time no one was sick, no one hungry, no one fell victim to an untimely death, rain always came on time, and the people were filled with natural, profound love and reverence for their king.

He particularly stressed that Rama, holding the welfare of his subjects above all else, never hesitated even to sacrifice his own personal happiness, showing that the dharma of an ideal ruler is to place the people's welfare even above his own joy and sorrow — and it is this very principle that makes Rama-rajya an unparalleled, exemplary ideal in the history of governance forever.

Shukadeva gave a detailed, sequential description of the descendants of Rama's son Kusha (twin brother of Lava), who, carrying forward their father's tradition, ruled righteously in Ayodhya itself for a long time.

He mentioned the names of many later kings of this dynasty and their brief, principal achievements, showing how the Ikshvaku dynasty, even after Rama, continued gloriously and unbroken for centuries, giving birth to many more righteous and renowned kings.

Thus, concluding this extensive, glorious account of the Ikshvaku dynasty, Shukadeva now turned the story toward the next important stage of the genealogy — the Lunar dynasty and its own particular, profound moral stories.

This chapter describes an exceedingly strange and philosophically profound story of King Nimi. Nimi wished to invite his family guru, Vasishtha, to conduct a great sacrifice, but Vasishtha, already occupied with a sacrifice for Indra, told Nimi to wait and departed.

Nimi, unable to wait for an indefinite time, went ahead and completed the sacrifice himself with the help of other sages. Vasishtha, upon returning and finding that the sacrifice had been completed in his absence, grew exceedingly angry and, in his rage, cursed Nimi to become bodiless — and Nimi, wounded by this unjust anger, in turn cursed Vasishtha to give up his body as well.

Both great souls, in accordance with their respective curses, gave up their physical bodies. But the sages present at the sacrifice, at the prayer of Nimi's soul, granted him the extraordinary boon of remaining alive without a body, dwelling in an invisible, subtle form within the eyes of all beings.

This is why, Shukadeva explained, the natural blinking of the eyes is called "nimesha" in Sanskrit, in honor of King Nimi's invisible, enduring presence, who still dwells today in the eyes of every being — this story presents a profound, singular teaching on the conflict of curse, boon, and ego.

Shukadeva now told an exceedingly moving and profound story of the love between Pururava, son of Sudyumna (Ila) and Budha, and the celestial nymph Urvashi — the central story of the origin of the Lunar dynasty.

Urvashi, because of a special curse, was compelled to live for a time in the mortal world as Pururava's wife, but she set certain conditions — such as that Pururava must never appear naked before her — upon whose fulfillment alone this marital bond could remain stable.

Pururava's love for Urvashi was so profound, so intense, that he forgot his royal duties, his subjects, even his own dignity, and when this condition was unknowingly broken through a clever trick of the gandharvas, Urvashi immediately returned to heaven, leaving Pururava in unbearable anguish of separation.

Pururava wandered the entire earth like a madman in search of his beloved, and though he at last obtained reunion for some time, this story presents a powerful, timeless teaching that excessive worldly attachment, even in the form of the deepest love, if devoid of devotion to the Lord, ultimately leads only to intense sorrow, separation, and instability.

Shukadeva, moving on from the sons of Pururava and Urvashi, gave a detailed, sequential account of the other important kings of the Lunar dynasty and their genealogy, mentioning the many branches of this lineage.

He particularly related that from this vast, extensive lineage would in due course be born Lord Parashurama (through the branch of the Bhrigu line), and that at last, after many generations, this lineage would reach the house of Yadu, in which Lord Krishna himself would be born.

Thus Shukadeva made clear to Parikshit that this entire, vast genealogical account is not merely a dry historical list, but is itself part of the divine plan under which the Lord, at the proper time, prepares to descend into the proper lineage.

This chapter describes an exceedingly powerful story of Lord Parashurama, concerning justice. His father, the great sage Jamadagni, was mercilessly killed out of petty malice by the wicked sons of King Kartavirya Arjuna, while Parashurama was not present at the hermitage.

Boundlessly enraged by this unjust, cruel killing of his father, Parashurama took up his divine axe and made a terrible vow that he would completely rid the earth of tyrannical, unrighteous kshatriya kings.

Fulfilling this vow, Parashurama traveled the earth twenty-one times, systematically destroying tyrannical and arrogant kshatriya kings for twenty-one generations, filling five lakes with the blood thus shed — a terrifying yet powerful testament to his unbroken commitment to filial devotion and justice.

At last, having fulfilled this duty toward his father, and having given the earth in charity to the sages who had truly protected dharma, Parashurama laid down his axe and took up the path of austerity. Shukadeva explained that his anger was not personal vengeance, but itself an incarnate task of the Lord for the protection of dharma, still remembered today as a symbol of decisive action against injustice.

Shukadeva continued his description of the various other branches and kings of the Lunar dynasty, giving a sequential account of the names of many kings, their brief deeds, and their offspring, gradually weaving this vast historical tapestry.

Through this genealogy he also mentioned many small but instructive events, showing how each generation, in its own way, encountered the varied experiences of dharma, adharma, victory, and defeat, each presenting in itself a small but meaningful lesson.

Concluding this extensive, sequential account, Shukadeva at last turned the story toward the exceedingly profound, morally complex story of King Yayati, which presents one of the most profound and unforgettable moral teachings of this entire Skandha.

King Yayati, being unfaithful to his first wife Devayani (daughter of Shukracharya), secretly maintained a relationship also with her companion and his second wife, Sharmishtha; when this came to Devayani's knowledge, she went in great anger to lodge a complaint with her father Shukracharya.

Shukracharya, enraged by this insult to his daughter, immediately cursed Yayati to be afflicted with premature, decrepit old age — a curse that transformed the young, splendid king into a powerless old man in an instant.

Yayati, whose intense desire for worldly enjoyment and sensory pleasure was still entirely unsatisfied, begged Shukracharya for some relief from this curse, and was given the option of temporarily transferring this old age to someone else, if anyone was willing to voluntarily lend him their youth — with this hope, he made this plea in turn to each of his five sons.

Yayati's first four sons, out of natural attachment to their youth and its pleasures, humbly declined their father's request, causing the king deep disappointment.

But his youngest and most junior son, Puru, alone, moved by profound reverence and a sense of duty toward his father, agreed without any hesitation to accept this extraordinary request, gladly handing over his own precious youth to his father.

Yayati, now young again, thereafter enjoyed, fully and unhindered, every possible, conceivable sensory pleasure and enjoyment for a thousand years, devoting his entire power and resources to this alone, believing that complete indulgence would at last bring complete satisfaction.

But even after this long, boundless indulgence, Yayati at last experienced this profound, bitter truth: that desire is never fully satisfied or calmed by indulgence, but rather, the more it is fed through enjoyment, the more intensely it grows and blazes — exactly as pouring ghee upon fire only makes it burn more fiercely.

After this profound, self-transforming realization, Yayati immediately and gratefully returned his son Puru's youth to him, accepting his old age once again — but now he was able to receive it not with fear or grief, but with profound wisdom and complete contentment.

He openly shared with his sons and subjects the profound knowledge gained from this extraordinary experience — that worldly desires are infinite and are never calmed by indulgence, and that only devotion to the Lord and renunciation can bring true satisfaction — establishing this as an immortal, timeless teaching.

At last, fully content and filled with renunciation, Yayati handed over his vast kingdom to his youngest but most dutiful son, Puru, and himself took up renunciation and departed for the forest, carrying this river of lineage forward through Puru's descendants to the house of Yadu, from which, in the coming Tenth Skandha, Lord Krishna himself would be born.

Shukadeva now began a detailed account of the origin of the Yadu dynasty and its early, important kings — this is the particular lineage that was in due course to receive the extraordinary fortune of giving the world Lord Krishna himself, the source of all incarnations.

He related that Yadu was one of Yayati's eldest sons, who had also, like his brothers, declined to give his youth to his father, yet whose lineage was nevertheless to receive this extraordinary, unprecedented fortune that the Lord's own complete incarnation would be born within it.

Shukadeva gave a sequential account of Yadu's early descendants and the various branches they established, showing how this lineage, over time, grew exceedingly extensive and powerful, giving birth to many brave and renowned kings.

Shukadeva gave an exceedingly detailed, sequential description of the many important later kings of the Yadu dynasty, their offspring, and their various branches, especially the principal sub-branches such as Bhoja, Vrishni, Andhaka, and Satvata.

He made clear the complex, extensive structure of this lineage, showing how this vast clan, though divided into many branches over time, succeeded in maintaining its fundamental unity and glory.

Through this extensive account, Shukadeva gradually advanced the story toward the point where this line of descent would at last reach Vasudeva and Devaki, the future earthly parents of Lord Krishna, whose detailed account is given in the next chapter.

In this chapter Shukadeva described, with particular care and reverence, the direct line of descent leading straight to Lord Krishna's earthly parents, Vasudeva and Devaki, listing the important members of each generation, their achievements, and their mutual relationships.

He particularly described the families of Shurasena, Vasudeva's father, and Devaka, Devaki's father, showing how these two branches of the Yadu dynasty were closely interconnected, which ultimately led to the marriage of Vasudeva and Devaki.

Through this extensive, careful genealogical account, Shukadeva made clear to Parikshit that the Lord's descent occurred not into some random, chance family, but into an exceedingly well-arranged, long-prepared, sacred lineage tradition maintained across many generations, every member of which was in some way involved in preparing the background for this great event.

In this final chapter of the Ninth Skandha, Shukadeva, concluding this vast, long genealogical journey, made clear to King Parikshit how this entire story of the Solar and Lunar dynasties, with its many kings, sages, victories, downfalls, and profound moral teachings, ultimately advances toward one single, most important point: the coming, long-awaited incarnation of Lord Krishna himself in the Yadu dynasty, whose entire, magnificent life-story will now be told in great detail in the coming Tenth Skandha, the most extensive, most celebrated, and most beloved portion of the Bhagavata Purana.

Shukadeva profoundly reminded Parikshit that the varied stories of all these kings described throughout this entire Skandha carry one single, unchangeable, central message: that worldly power, empire, and splendor, however vast and long-lasting they may be, are ultimately fleeting and mortal, and only those kings who kept dharma, truthfulness, and devotion to the Lord as the unbroken center of their lives — Harishchandra, Ambarisha, Bhagiratha, Rama — had their glory and memory remain forever immortal and undiminished, while the fleeting glory of rulers immersed in pride, indulgence, and unrighteousness was soon dimmed and forgotten in the dust of time.