King Vikramaditya returned to the Shishapa tree, brought down the corpse in which Vethala dwelt, and placed it upon his shoulder. Then he set out once more through the dark cremation ground. As they went, Vethala began another story. “O King, listen carefully to this tale.”

There once lived a king named Yashahketu, who ruled over a prosperous kingdom. He was a capable king, but he had become too fond of women and pleasure and had begun to neglect the affairs of his kingdom. Fortunately, his chief minister, Dirghadarshi, was wise and faithful, and much of the burden of ruling had fallen upon him. Dirghadarshi served his master faithfully, but his wife saw how heavily the work weighed upon him.

One day she said to him, “If the king were to see some new and wonderful woman, perhaps the hold of his old pleasures would loosen, and afterward he might once again listen to your advice.” Dirghadarshi considered her words and decided to leave the kingdom for a time. He went before Yashahketu and asked permission to make a pilgrimage to sacred places. “Dharma is dear to me,” he said. “I wish to visit the holy places while I still have the strength.”

The king replied, “Can Dharma be gained only by pilgrimage? A man may give charity and perform good deeds even while living in his own house.” Dirghadarshi answered, “Charity depends upon wealth and faith, but sacred places are always pure. The wise should visit them while the body is still strong, for when old age comes, where will the strength for such journeys remain?” While they were speaking, the doorkeeper came to tell the king that the sun had reached midday and the hour for his bath was passing.

The king went away to bathe, and Dirghadarshi returned home. He would not allow his wife to accompany him and soon left alone upon his pilgrimage. Travelling through many lands and visiting many sacred places, he at last came to a town where he stayed in a temple of Shiva. There he met a wealthy merchant named Nidhidatta, who had come to the temple for worship.

Nidhidatta welcomed him into his home. “We merchants are soon sailing to Suvarnadvipa, the Golden Island, for trade,” he told him. “Remain in my house until I return.” But Dirghadarshi replied, “I will come with you,” and so he joined the merchants and boarded their ship.

When they were far out at sea, a wonderful sight suddenly appeared before them. From the ocean rose a Kalpa tree, the wish fulfilling tree, its branches bright with coral. Upon it sat a divine maiden of incomparable beauty, holding a veena in her hands. As Dirghadarshi watched, she began to sing of Karma and destiny: “Whatever seed of Karma a person has sown, its fruit must surely be received. What has been done before cannot be changed even by Brahma; each living being is led toward what destiny has prepared.”

The sailors said to Dirghadarshi, “We often see this maiden here. She appears for a little while and then disappears beneath the sea. Only to you is this sight new.” In time, the ship reached Suvarnadvipa, where the merchants completed their business, and afterward they sailed home. Dirghadarshi then made his way back toward his own kingdom.

Spies whom Yashahketu had sent in search of his minister saw Dirghadarshi approaching the city and carried the news to the king. Yashahketu himself went out to meet him, embraced him warmly, and brought him back to the palace. “Minister, why did you remain away for so long?” he asked. “Tell me what wonders you saw upon your journey.”

Dirghadarshi told him of his pilgrimage, his voyage to Suvarnadvipa, and at last of the beautiful maiden sitting upon the Kalpa tree in the middle of the sea. The king had never seen her, but hearing this, he desired her. “Minister, I must see her,” he said. “Guard my kingdom while I am gone. Do not try to stop me, and do not follow me, for I shall go alone.”

That very day, Yashahketu placed the kingdom in Dirghadarshi’s hands and left the city disguised as an ascetic. On his way, he met a sage named Kurya, who said to him, “My son, go to the sea and travel with a merchant named Lakshmidatta. If you do so, you will obtain the maiden you desire. Go without fear.”

Yashahketu followed the sage’s words and found Lakshmidatta preparing to sail for Suvarnadvipa. He joined the merchant and went aboard his ship. When they reached the middle of the sea, the Kalpa tree rose once more from the water, and upon it sat the same divine maiden. Yashahketu gazed at her as a chakora gazes upon moonlight and heard her sing the same song of Karma and destiny.

Then the maiden disappeared beneath the water. Yashahketu was about to throw himself into the sea after her, but Lakshmidatta stopped him. At that moment, a voice came from the sky: “Do not act rashly. This is King Yashahketu in the dress of an ascetic, and he has come here for this maiden. She was his wife in a former birth, and when he obtains her again, he will gain the kingdom of the Vidyadharas.”

After this, the merchant went on his way, while Yashahketu remained behind. Before long, he saw a wonderful city in the midst of the sea. Its walls gleamed with gold, its pillars shone with light, and its windows were hung with nets of pearls. There were jewelled palaces, gardens and beautiful tanks throughout the city.

Yashahketu wandered from house to house and from garden to garden in search of the maiden. At last, he entered a high palace and found her there alone. When she saw him, her eyes widened, and she welcomed him with honour. “Who are you?” she asked. “How have you entered this city beneath the sea? You look like a king, yet you wear the dress of an ascetic.”

“I am Yashahketu,” he replied. “I heard of you and left my kingdom to find you. I followed the path of the sea until I came here.” The maiden then told him, “My name is Mrigankavati, and I am the daughter of the King of the Vidyadharas. My father and his people have left this city, and I remain here alone.”

Mrigankavati agreed to become his wife, but she placed one condition before him. “On certain days of every month, I must leave you for a time. Wherever I go, you must neither stop me nor follow me.” Yashahketu agreed, and they were married by the Gandharva rite and lived together happily in that divine city.

One day, the appointed time came, and Mrigankavati said, “Wait here. I must go out for a little while.” She left the city, but Yashahketu could not remain behind. Taking his sword, he secretly followed her.

Outside the city, he saw a terrible Rakshasa, dark as smoke and dreadful as Patala itself. Roaring fiercely, the demon seized Mrigankavati and swallowed her. Yashahketu rushed upon him with his shining sword, which flashed like a black cobra, and struck off the Rakshasa’s head with a single blow. Mrigankavati came forth alive, beautiful and unharmed like the pure moon.

She then said, “I was under a curse from my own father, the King of the Vidyadharas. Once, on Chaturdashi, I went alone to worship Goddess Gauri and remained there so long that the whole day passed. My father waited for me without eating or sleeping, and when my mother told him where I had been, he became angry.

“He cursed me to remain alone in this city and said that, on certain days, a Rakshasa named Kritantasana would swallow me. I would not die, but this suffering would continue until my husband Yashahketu saw me swallowed and killed the Rakshasa. Then the curse would end, and the knowledge I had lost would return to me. You have now killed him, and my father’s curse is broken.”

Mrigankavati had regained her memory, but her power of flight had left her. They therefore went to the sacred tank of Hara in the ocean city. Through her remaining power, they entered its waters together and suddenly emerged from another tank in the garden of Yashahketu’s own capital. Dirghadarshi came and received them, but returning to his house, his heart broke and he died.

Yashahketu then took up the burden of ruling his kingdom himself. With Mrigankavati beside him, he enjoyed great happiness for many years.

Having finished the story, Vethala asked Vikramaditya, “O King, why did Dirghadarshi die when he saw his master returned safely? If you know the answer and yet remain silent, your head shall split into a hundred pieces. But if you speak, I shall leave your shoulder and return to the Shishapa tree.”

Vikramaditya answered, “Dirghadarshi saw that Yashahketu had been attached to women before, and now had obtained a divine woman even more wonderful. Dirghadarshi thought that his master would never be freed from this attachment, and his heart broke.

As soon as Vikramaditya had spoken, Vethala slipped from his shoulder and returned to the Shishapa tree. Vikramaditya turned back and went after him once again.

Author’s Note

There is a quiet irony in Dirghadarshi’s journey. He leaves the kingdom hoping that Yashahketu may learn to bear his own responsibilities, yet the wonder he sees during that very journey leads the king to Mrigankavati. What begins as the minister’s attempt to escape the burden of his master’s weakness finally shows him how deeply that weakness still remains.