When the king again came forward to mount the throne, he was addressed by the next statuette: ‘Your Majesty can neither ascend this throne of Indra, nor give it up. You only torment yourself. No man may occupy this great royal seat unless he has the generosity of Vikrama. If you wish to know what it was like, then pay attention to the deeds of that worker of wonders.
‘During the rule of Vikrama there was a minister named Buddhisindhu, who had a son, Guhila by name. The young man lived like a prince, eating rice and melted butter, and did not study at all. He was a fool without a particle of sense. With the intention of disciplining him, his father once admonished him with some precepts:
“Empty is the home without a child,
the land devoid of kinsfolk,
and the mind of a fool.
And everything is empty for the poor.
Alas, my son, you were born
under some evil star. You are:
a bad child who remains
unlettered. Because of you
I have become notorious
among those who have children.
How could I, so rich in learning,
have such worthless progeny?
It were better to have had
a barren wife or a stillborn child.
My boy, you obtained a human birth
because of past merits, but your mind
was stricken by fate. You have
neither learning nor discrimination.”
‘Guhila was mortified by his father’s words. They pierced his heart like arrows. Unobserved by anyone, he left home that very night and went away to the province of Karṇāta. There, with hard practice, he mastered learning, which brings both good sense and fame, and lived happily. After some time he took leave respectfully from his teacher and set out for home.’
On the way he passed through the province of Andhra. It was a land enriched by the Kākati kings with treasures accumulated in their victorious campaigns. Here the Godavari flowed through seven streams into the sea. This river, also called Gautami, the purifier of the world, springs from the matted hair of the god Śiva, and forms in this place a holy ford know as Ushṇa Tīrtha or Hot Spring. Rice cooks in no time when soaked in its water. There was also a temple to the god, locally known as Ushṇeśvara, which displayed the craftsmanship of some earthly Viśvakaramā in all its diversity.
‘The minister’s son arrived there, thinking gloomily how far he still was from his homeland. At midnight he saw in the vicinity eight beautiful damsels, gleaming like gold and the lightning. One was skilled in music and song, and blew upon a wind pipe with the lotus bud of her mouth. Another warbled sweet notes on a mellifluous flute, which she held playfully to her lovely lips. Yet another played a drum with her hands, keeping time with the melody. Some sweet-voiced girls, adorned in diverse ways, sang a lilting song based on the pure fifth note which completely enthralls the mind. Others danced gracefully with an enchanting display of the arousal of emotions, their limbs swaying to the music and their feet keeping time.
‘Guhila gazed at all this in wonderment. The damsels too noticed him as they departed in the morning after having worshipped the god Śiva Ushṇeśvara with music and dance. “Come, gentle sir,” one of them called out, “we will go to our city.” He obeyed and followed them till they entered the hot water of the ford. But the flames on the water’s surface frightened him, and he went no further.
‘The next morning he continued his journey, and in due course returned to the capital of Vikramaditya. Having gladdened his parents with his now impeccable learning, he then went to see the gallant monarch, to whom he displayed his knowledge with great enthusiasm. Courteously questioned by the king, he recounted his tale from the beginning, including the marvel he had seen in the Andhra country.
‘The king was curious. He went there himself, and saw the temple and the blazing waters before it. Spending the night at the temple, he also witnessed the dances and all the rites performed by the divine damsels. “Come with us,” they said to him as they departed in the morning, and he boldly went behind them to the bubbling source of the water. Such was the heat which arose from its waves that even the birds in the sky did not want to fly across it, what to say of other creatures.
‘Smiling with suppressed amusement, the nymphs cast meaningful glances at Vikramaditya as they dived into the ford. Following them the king too leapt into the burning water. As he entered its inner recess the eight beauties happily took him by the hand and led him to their city.’
‘The place was adorned with banners and gates of gold with many jewelled columns. The nymphs took the king into their mansion and seated him on a gem-studded throne. They washed his feet and welcomed him with lighted lamps and performed other appropriate ceremonies. As he sat upon the fine throne, one nymph tempted him with clever words: “O King, even Indra and the others have wanted us but, knowing you to be the epitome of manliness, we would like to have only Your Majesty as our master. We are the eight magic powers. This power is named Aṇimā or minuteness, which attribute she harbours in the slenderness of her waist. She wishes to wed you. So does she, named Mahimā or vastness, who cleverly bears this glory in her ample hips. Look at Laghimā or lightness, with whose favour a man may move about in the sky without support, as if by magic. And this power is Garimā or weightiness, bearing this quality in her breasts; she has fallen in love with you who carry such weight in the world. This is Prāpti or possession, who is here to be possessed by you, the repository of all valour. To have her is to have everything. Here to serve you, O King, is Iśitā or supremacy, by whose favour a man is able to do and to undo all things, and also to change them. And in your service too is Vaśitā or mastery, a single glance from whom gives one dominion over this whole world of gods, demons and humans, Enjoy finally this power named Prākāmyā, or irresistible will. She enables the attainment of desired objects in all, conditions, and herself desires you. Other capabilities, like that of entering another’s body, are the servants of the eight great magic powers. Attended by them, O King, rule this realm unhampered, as you deem proper.”
‘After listening to the nymph, King Vikramaditya replied with a smile lighting up his face: “What you say is true, and I am very pleased. Everyone gets satisfaction from success in doing something. But I did not come here to gain this kingdom or your magic powers. I came simply to see this marvel. So grant me your grace, and do not be offended if I do not act as you wish.”
‘Observing that the noble king had decided not to stay, the nymphs gave him eight jewels which would enable him to attain their powers. As for Vikrama, he took leave from them and came out of the boiling lake.
‘As the king proceeded to Ujjayini he saw on the way a brahmin gone grey with age, tottering along with a staff for support, “Old age has enfeebled you, brahmin,” he asked kindly, “where do you want to go?” The dotard explained why he was on the road. “I am called Vishnu Śarmā,” he said. “I am from the Kaśyapa family and live in Kanchīpura. I have always been plagued by bad luck. My wife is old, ill-tempered and sharp-tongued. She has many children and frequently scolds me for my poverty. ‘A curse on this life, you fool!’ she says, ‘you are no good at work and always in trouble. Your indigence is unending. From the time you married me to this day, my clothes have been in tatters and my life has been spent in misery. My limbs are twisted from always sleeping on the ground. There is nothing for my comfort, nor enough food for my stomach. A man without money is like one dead. Even his relatives are unwilling to keep him company, and they go away. A woman who gets a husband devoid of learning, discrimination and money is spurned by her kinsfolk. It is better for a girl to lose her husband in youth, rather than be derided as the wife of a pauper.’ These harsh words of my wife pierced me like arrows, and so I set out to gain wealth or perish in the process. But to behold you at the break of day is like attaining the eight magic powers. I will certainly gain some benefit from you beyond my imagination.”’
‘After listening to the old man, the king reflected: “Alas, poverty leads to humiliation, even at the hands of one’s wife. As it is said:
‘My beauty, won’t you do something nice for me?’
‘Why don’t you do it yourself?’
‘Shame on your temper!’
‘And who provokes one with nasty words,
more than you?’
‘Curse you for answering back at every word!’
‘Curse your father!’
Can there be any happiness for a couple who thus
keep sniping and quarrelling with each other all
the time?
“‘How strange are men’s actions,” the king thought,
Some people help many others,
some help only themselves,
and some cannot do even that.
Such is the ultimate fruit
of good and evil deeds.”
‘His heart moved by pity and compassion, the king then gave the eight jewels to the brahmin.’
After recounting this story, the statuette said to King Bhoja: ‘Sit upon this throne if you have such fortitude and magnanimity, O King!’ But the king heard her and kept silent.