Mahabharat Adi Parva C11

The old dundubha sighed and began his story.

“In a forr age,” he said, “I had a dear friend nad Khagama.

He was a Brahmin of great virtue, always truthful in speech and endowed with trendous spiritual power gained through severe austerities.

We were close companions.

One day, while we were still young, I committed a foolish act.

Khagama was engaged in performing his Agnihotra ritual. His mind was absorbed in the sacred fire and the recitation of mantras.

Seeing him so serious, I decided to play a prank.

Using blades of grass, I fashioned sothing that looked like a snake and placed it near him, intending only to frighten him for amusent.

But the joke went terribly wrong.

When Khagama saw the mock serpent, he was so startled that he fainted.”

The dundubha lowered his head.

“After so ti, he regained consciousness.

When he rose, I saw that he was furious.

His face burned with anger, and his eyes seed to blaze like fire.

Then he spoke.

‘You created this harmless mock snake to terrify ,’ he said.

‘Therefore, by the power of my austerities, you yourself shall beco a harmless snake.

Just as this false serpent possessed no power, so too shall you live as a powerless serpent under my curse.’”

The dundubha paused before continuing.

“I knew well the strength of Khagama's ascetic power.

The mont I heard those words, terror filled my heart.

I imdiately folded my hands, bowed before him, and begged for forgiveness.

‘My friend,’ I said, ‘it was only a joke.

I ant no harm.

I did it only to make you laugh.

Please forgive .

Withdraw this curse.’

I stood before him with folded hands, trembling and ashad.”

The old serpent's voice softened.

“When Khagama saw how distressed I was, his anger began to fade.

He let out several deep breaths.

Though he regretted his harshness, he was bound by the power of his spoken words.

At last he said:

‘What I have spoken cannot be made false.

The curse must take effect.

Once uttered, such words cannot simply be withdrawn.’

Then his expression beca gentler.

‘However,’ he continued, ‘listen carefully to what I am about to tell you.

Rember these words well and keep them in your heart.

Though the curse cannot be undone, a ti will co when it shall find its end.’”

The dundubha fell silent for a mont, rembering the promise that had sustained him through long years of exile in a serpent's body. The fate foretold by his friend was now about to be revealed to Ruru.

The old dundubha continued his tale.

“After pronouncing the curse, my friend Khagama saw how deeply I regretted my foolish act.

Though he could not withdraw his words, he softened and gave hope.

He said:

‘One day a pure and noble man nad Ruru, the son of Pramati, will be born.

The mont you et him, your curse will co to an end.’

Those words sustained through the long years of my exile.

And now,” the serpent said, looking steadily at Ruru, “you are that very Ruru.

You are the son of Pramati.

By eting you today, I have been freed from the curse.”

As he spoke, the power of the curse dissolved.

The old serpent regained his true form as the sage Sahasrapat.

Standing before Ruru once more in his original appearance, the sage smiled and said:

“Now that I am free, let give you so advice for your own good.

Listen carefully.”

His expression grew serious.

“The highest righteousness is non-violence.

Among all living beings, the principle of not harming life is regarded as the greatest virtue.

Therefore, a Brahmin should never intentionally kill any living creature.

The sacred teachings declare that a Brahmin should be gentle and peaceful.

He should be learned in the Vedas and the Vedangas.

His presence should bring safety and fearlessness to all beings.

Non-violence, truthfulness, and forgiveness—these are the highest duties of a Brahmin, even greater than rely preserving sacred knowledge.”

Ruru listened in silence.

The sage continued:

“The path you are now following is not the path ant for you.

To wield punishnt, to govern through force, and to protect society by the rod of authority—these are the duties of Kshatriyas.

They are not the natural duties of Brahmins.

You have allowed grief to turn into hatred.

Because one serpent caused suffering, you have sought vengeance upon all serpents.

That is not righteousness.”

Then Sahasrapat spoke of a future event.

“Listen well, Ruru.

In ages to co, King Janajaya will perform a great Snake Sacrifice in which countless serpents will be dragged into the sacrificial fire.

Yet even then, the serpent race will not be completely destroyed.

A Brahmin will arise to protect them.

His na will be Astika.

He will be foremost among Brahmins, powerful through austerity, wisdom, and mastery of the Vedas.

When the terrified serpents face extinction, it will be Astika who saves them.”

The words struck deeply into Ruru's heart.

For the first ti, he began to understand that justice and vengeance were not the sa thing.

The death of Pramadvara had led him to condemn an entire race for the actions of a single serpent.

But now a sage, once trapped in a serpent's form himself, had reminded him of a higher truth:

The duty of a Brahmin is not hatred.

It is compassion, truth, restraint, and the protection of all life.

And with those words, the story began to turn toward the greater tale yet to co—the story of Astika, the Brahmin destined to save the serpent race from destruction."