Have you read the first part of this story yet? Bharata: The Bait of Attachment
Life as a deer
Memories flooded through the mind of a newborn fawn in the terrains of Mt. Kalanjara. He left his mother and slowly began walking North to the forest of Shaligrama. By no means could he let himself repeat the mistakes of his previous birth. Even after renouncing life as a king in pursuit of Sriman Narayana, he had fallen prey to attachment for an animal. A deer! He was devastated.
At least, his past sadhana had left him with the memories of his past life. He glanced down at his current body of a deer. The consequence of his last life was plain as day. This life onward, no mistakes allowed.
At the Shaligrama forest, the deer focused solely on the Lord. Except for occasionally crunching some dried leaves, he hardly ate anything. Eventually, when the appropriate time arrived, the deer plunged into the Gandaki River, giving up his life.
The silent brahmana baby
A wealthy and dutiful brahmana was elated hearing the sound of his newborn daughter crying loudly. But when he looked closely at the small blanket beside his wife, he realized that there was also a twin baby boy silently lying down. The couple was confused. How could a newborn baby not even let out a single cry?
As the brahmana boy grew up alongside his twin sister, one thing remained constant. The boy never spoke a word to anyone. It wasn’t that he was unable to speak. He just was so immersed in the remembrance of Sriman Narayana and didn’t want anything to distract him. If everyone believed that he was simply unable to speak, no one would come and disrupt his focus on the Lord.
The boy’s father—who was very religious and ritualistic—worked so hard to pass on his own knowledge of the scriptures and other traditions to his son. It was fruitless, but the loving father continued to persist until his death.
Following their father’s death, the brahmana boy’s several stepbrothers treated him with absolutely no respect. Each day, the brahmana ate simply whatever happened to come to him. Although he was in constant bliss thinking about the Lord, everyone else thought of him as crazy. He was not only made fun of but also taken advantage of.
In fact, his nine stepbrothers would use him for the most degrading labor. Fully knowing that he wouldn’t care, they would give the brahmana just leftovers and spoiled food to eat. But the brahmana—indeed not caring about worldly pleasures like food—would ungrudgingly eat even burned grains that worms had chewed on.
The gang’s human sacrifice
In another corner of the city, a gang chief was planning to make a human sacrifice to Goddess Kali, his family deity. He loudly clapped his hands to call the attention of his servants and began his demand.
“I need to offer to our goddess the blood of a man who is no more intelligent than a mere ox. Present me with such a person by tonight. The ritual must not be delayed.”
The servants frantically but discreetly hurried throughout the region to find a suitable man. One stumbled upon the brahmana. Taking his muteness—which was actually a sign of ultimate self-realization—as a sign of unintelligence, the servant gleefully decided to bring the brahmana to the chief.
The brahmana showed no resistance as the servant took him. It wasn’t because he was unaware of his looming fate. The brahmana simply had no desires, and so had nothing to lose.
At the chief’s residence, the brahmana was elaborately decorated with fancy new clothes, beautiful jewelry and garlands, and scented oils. Once he was ready to be beheaded, they brought him to the front sacrificial altar. As the knife inched toward the brahmana’s neck, a fierce rumbling started sounding from the altar.
Goddess Kaali herself emerged from the statue full of life and anger. She couldn’t bear the brahmana who was such a self-realized and devoted soul being almost killed. The gangsters shook in fear. They weren’t even able to move.
Kaali grabbed the sword from the chief’s hands and forcefully beheaded each one of the gangsters. As she began angrily drinking their blood, the brahmana calmly walked out altar and returned to the streets where he lived.
Nonviolently carrying the palanquin
One day, the brahmana was, as usual, immersed in the glories of the Lord sitting near the front yard of his stepbrothers’ house.
“Hey, come here.” A man called him from the road, looking up and down at the brahmana’s muscular figure. “King Rahugana is on his way to visit Sage Kapila. We need one more volunteer to help carry his majesty’s palanquin. Are you up for it?”
The brahmana silently obliged and followed the messenger to the palanquin. He gripped onto the fourth leg and carried it along with the remaining three workers. As they traveled across the road, the brahmana glimpsed a small row of ants. Immediately, he hopped over them to avoid hurting them.
The road was filled with more ants along the way. And each time, the brahmana stepped away, jerking the entire palanquin.
“Hmph,” King Ragugana started yelling at the workers. “Do you all seriously not know how to even carry a palanquin? Stop carrying it so unevenly.”
The other three workers trembled and glared at the brahmana.
“Your majesty, I apologize for the inconvenience that you are going through,” one of the workers said, remaining polite to the king amid his own frustration. “However, it is all because this new man here who was just enlisted is not able to keep up with us properly.”
King Rahugana understood his explanation and angrily turned toward the unaffected brahmana.
“Oh, my dear brother,” the king said, looking up and down at the brahmana’s youthful and fit body. “I can’t imagine how difficult this task must be for you. Afflicted with an old and weak body, you must be so tired. Plus these uncooperative partners? They must be making your life even harder.”
The brahmana neither reacted to the king’s words nor stopped avoiding the ants.
King Rahugana had had enough. Even a bitter mask of sarcasm couldn’t stifle his seething rage.
“How dare you blatantly disobey my words?” he yelled. “Even though you seem alive, you’re acting as if you are dead. Do you not realize who I am? Well, let me tell you. I am your king, and I am your master. Now, prepare to face the wrath of King Rahugana.”
The right disciple
The soft-hearted brahmana who had never spoken a word—not even to his doting parents or the goddess who saved his life—gently opened his mouth and began addressing the king.
“Dear King, even your sarcastic and harsh words hold some truth in them. Indeed, each of our bodies—which are all fleeting entities—are dead yet simply seem to be alive. However, I have not gone through any difficulty or labor, as you had claimed. That is to say, I have not even carried the palanquin, since it is merely this body that is the carrier.”
Rahugana was immediately moved by the profound words of the brahmana. He was face to face with a great one. Now what purpose was there in continuing his journey to Sage Kapila’s ashrama. But for having disrespected such a noble and self-realized one, King Rahugana was miserable. He fell at the feet of the brahmana and begged for forgiveness.
Accepting the king as his disciple, the brahmana responded to the king’s internal curiosity and unveiled his identity.
“Just a few births ago,” the brahmana said. “I was born as King Bharata. I had absolutely sacrificed all my worldly attachments and had succeeded in dedicating my entire life to serving the Lord. Unfortunately, I became attached to a young deer and, as a consequence, spent my following life as a deer. But thanks to my previous sadhana, I was able to remember the events of my past lives even as a deer. And since then, I have always been afraid of falling into the same bait of attachment. That is why I avoid the company of other humans by acting mute and incapable.”
Then, at that very spot on the road, they halted the palanquin and fell into deep conversation. The brahmana patiently responded to the king’s pressing questions and explained the nature of the soul and the behavior of true devotees along with various other philosophical truths.
“Above all,” the brahmana said during the discussion, “if you bask in the company of other great devotees and engage yourself in chanting and listening to the glories of the Lord, anyone can attain the Truth.”
This story is found in the fifth canto of the Srimad Bhagavatam.
