That Sita sat under an Ashoka tree (a- shoka : without sorrow) in the Ashoka grove during her stay in Lanka is commonly known episode of the Ramayana. Not so well known however, is an interesting myth from the Bhavishya Purana that adds a precursor to that tale. As it is seen with other Purana stories, it is plausible that this tale too was an attempt at acculturation and social synthesis.

Years before the abduction of Sita by Ravana, there lived a cannibal among the Bhil tribe named Sashoka. He roamed the forests of central India and lived by killing passers-by and consuming them as food.

The Aasana tree is a common Indian deciduous tree. The spines on its bark tell the story of a time dating back to the Mahabharata. The story of Bhishma, before he became Bhishma.

Prince Devavrata, the handsome son of King Shantanu of Hastinapura, rides out of the palace gates one morning upon his chariot. Young and restless, perhaps even a tad reckless, Devavrata is not still the wise old Bhishma, who will live on in the collective memory of Indians for centuries.

The golden glow of the morning sun lights up the capital city. Citizens bow before the prince, making way for his speeding chariot as it rides out of the city limits. Charismatic successor of the kingdom, Devavrata rides into the forest with a young vigour and confident flair.

This folktale is found in multiple collections all over the world. It has a Somalian version, a popular Greek version (King Midas), a Korean one and several others. Within India, it is found in almost every language. This author heard it from her father who located it in Tamil Nadu and the story has been accordingly adapted to suit local tastes and conditions.
Once upon a time, there lived a king. He was a fine king who ruled well and made his subjects happy. Yet, he was unhappy because he had a curious problem… he had the ears of an ass! He was very ashamed of his secret and kept the ears hidden inside his turban.

The only one who knew about it was his barber and he had been sworn into secrecy. The barber knew better than to disobey the king’s orders and so he never spoke about this to anyone but as the years went by, the secret ate away at him. It grew inside his tummy and soon, the barber’s stomach grew so big that it threatened to burst under the weight of the secret.

This story is taken from a collection, a set of devotional offerings to Shiva by his worshippers. Now, the kings who ruled Tamilagam (modern day Tamil Nadu) set great store by the virtue of fairness in the administration of justice. The people even believed that the success or failure of the annual monsoon depended on the efficacy of a king’s justice administration. The legend of Ellalan, taken from Periya Puranam, a hagiographic compilation of stories about 63 special devotees of Shiva, exemplifies this virtue of the Tamil kings.  Ellalan was a third century BCE Chola king, who later came to be known as Manu Neethi Cholan.

As his name suggests, this is the story of how the king upheld the laws of Manu while dispensing justice to his subjects, which included all living creatures in his kingdom. It was said that there hung a bell outside his palace gates and anybody seeking justice could ring it any time to bring their case to the notice of the king.

In Mahabharata there are numerous didactic tales advising Kings on the rules of engagement in a political scenario. The tale of Lomasha and Palita from the Shanti Parvan (138) explains why a wise enemy is better than a foolish friend.

Deep inside a thick forest there stood a huge banyan tree. It was home to various species of wild animals and snakes. Inside a hole near the roots of this huge banyan tree lived a rat by name Palita and on one of its branches lived a cat by the name Lomasha. Lomasha subsisted entirely on the birds that would visit the tree. However, Palita always lived in fear of being killed by Lomasha and hardly ventured out his hole.

Vaishampanaya narrates the tale of a remarkable brahmin and minister from Mahabharata whose valuable advice to Dhritarashtra went unheard
The story goes that the worried father and distressed King saw his dream of getting Duryodhana installed as king of Hastinapur fading as he found the Pandavas growing from strength to strength. Their superior skills were particularly evident after they defeated the powerful ruler of Panchal, King Drupada. Dhritrashtra grew suspicious of them and summoned his finest minister Kanika for his advice. Kanika an expert political counsel responded with an animal fable that is reminiscent of the tales from Panchtantra and Hitopadesa.
He addressed the king, “My majesty possessing the strength of thousand elephants, listen to me and do not be angry with me for saying what I am going to say.” A king’s business is to rule and to extend his might and influence; he should not make mistakes himself but profit from other’s mistakes. Rule with a vigilant eye and incapacitate your enemy with conciliation, money, discord and punishment.

It was a grand feast. Siblings, sun, the moon and the wind had been invited by their uncle and aunt (thunder and lightning) to share a table laden with the best food that anyone had ever set their eyes upon. Their mother, one of the most distant and brightest stars in the sky, having sent them out, spent a restless night awaiting their return.

Everyone knew that sun and wind were greedy and selfish. They enjoyed the great feast that had been prepared for them. Gobbled it all down actually, without a thought for their mother. But the gentle moon was not as uncaring nor as forgetful. Of every dish that was served on that table that night, she took away a small portion and tucked it under her long finger nails. Quietly she kept putting away a little bit of this and little bit of that for her mother, the star.

On their return, their mother, finally looking forward to some sleep and who was also very hungry having kept watch all night asked, “Well, children, what have you brought home for me?”

Then sun (who was eldest) said, “I have brought nothing home for you. I went out to enjoy myself with my friends, not to fetch a dinner for my mother!”

Wind said, “Neither have I brought anything home for you, mother. You could hardly expect me to bring a collection of good things for you, when I merely went out for my own pleasure.”

But Moon said, “Mother, fetch a plate, see what I have brought you.” And with a gentle shake of her fingers she laid out a grand feast for her mother.

Then the mother star turned to sun and cursed him. “Because you went out to amuse yourself with your friends, and feasted and enjoyed yourself, without any thought of your mother at home, your rays shall ever be hot and scorching, and shall burn all that they touch. And men shall hate you, and cover their heads when you appear.” And that is why the Sun is so hot to this day. Then she turned to Wind and said, “You also who forgot your mother in the midst of your selfish pleasures—hear your doom. You shall always blow in the hot dry weather, and shall parch and shrivel all living things. And men shall detest and avoid you from this very time.” And that is why the Wind in the hot weather is still so disagreeable. But to Moon she said, “Daughter, because you remembered your mother, and kept for her a share in your own enjoyment, from henceforth you shall be ever cool, and calm, and bright. No noxious glare shall accompany your pure rays, and men shall always call you blessed.” And that is why the moon’s light is so soft, and cool, and beautiful even to this day.

Story collected by: Shweta Joshi

Text source: Indian Fairy Tales selected and edited by Joseph Jacobs

Location: Pan India

Once, there was a swallow by the name ‘Kirkiro’. He would cry the whole day- kirrr… kirrr… kirrr, thus everyone called him Kirkiro.

The story goes that in his earlier birth, Kirkiro was born as a man. He worked hard to put two square meals on the table so that his wife and old widowed mother could survive. Kirkiro loved both women very much.  And was willing to do anything to make them happy. But there was not enough work for him in the village. So he decided to go to another village to look for work and took his wife and his mother along. As the three walked towards the next village, they came up to a river. Neither woman knew how to swim. So the man carried his wife on his shoulders and held his old mother’s hand and started wading through the river waters.

There is a myth, at least there was in the times gone by, when my mother was a girl. It is that women do not suffer from the curse of flatulence. She told me this story. In a Goan village, many years ago, folks lived in harmony. There lived amongst them two families who had two sons of marriageable ages. Both of them, it was said, were born on the same day, same time right down to the exact moment of birth. Duly, and dutifully too, their parents arranged their marriages. Their respective wives also had striking resemblance to one another. So striking was their likeness that newcomers to that village believed that they were sisters.

However, the outer similarities did not bespeak of their inner make up and their characters. While one was sweet, the other was bitter; one the very embodiment of womanhood, the other had flaws in her nature not quite in keeping with the norms of feminine temperament. But there was no discord between either because of or in spite of their contrasting natures. In fact, both the girls soon won the trust and affection of all elders in the village.

One day there was a function in one house hold. The newlywed bride (the sweet one) was so adept at all the household work that not only did she help arrangements but cooked, it was said, a meal most delicious. Just as the men folk were busy satiating their appetites, the girl had an irrepressible urge to release pent up intestinal gasses. The girl panicked, for to let go in a hall full of people, all men at that, was the most horrifying predicament. She excused herself and rushed into the confines of a suitable antechamber, but alas! It was a tad late. All heard the most embarrassing sound enhanced by the concentrated quiet of the lunch hour and knew at once its producer. The poor girl ran right out of the dining hall through the passage out into the back yard where the well was. Not looking behind, she rushed on and jumped straight into the well overcome with shame.

In no time she drowned and her soul went directly to heaven. There, in heaven, Indra, the god of thunder was presiding. The celestial court was in session! The guards tried to hold the newly dead girl when she rushed to fall at the Gods lotus feet. The ensuing commotion interrupted the court proceedings. Looking at the lovely girl, puzzled by her young age, Indra asked Chitragupta, the Divine bookkeeper, the cause of her death. Chitragupta told Indra what had happened. He felt sorry that a young girl, in prime of her youth, was overcome with shame because of flatulence. He sent summons to the King of gas, Vayu who presented himself before Indra with folded hands. Indra, revealed the reason for his summons and ordered him never to inflict women. “From now on no woman will entertain you!” said Indra. Vayu accepted the command, and retreated with his Godly dignity.

Indra turned to the girl and smiled. “There!”, he said, :” From now on all women will live a long life bereft of the ignominy and shame of flatulence.” Then he called his treasurer, Kubera, and asked him to bedeck the girl with his priceless ‘abhushanas’ and asked Yama, Death, to bring her back to life and her homestead. Then he blessed the girl and bid her leave.

Down below, on earth, there was commotion near the well. The husband of the girl had jumped into the well. He had dived to look for her body many times but had failed. He dived again. This time, he touched something. So he quickly grabbed it. It was her arm and he pulled her out. The girl was resuscitated and brought home to rest after this tense incident.

Next morning, as though nothing at all had happened, the girl set about her chores. She went to the well to fetch water. There, all the women had gathered. They were restive, dying to know how the girl had managed to not only survive, but how she had come up with such exquisite ornaments of diamonds and gold. They had noticed the dangling diamonds dazzling her face. They all rushed to her with the other girl leading (the bitter one). She was the most curious of them all!

“What happened? Where did you get this? Is there gold at the bottom of the well? – There was a barrage of questions from the curious ladies.The girl calmly told her unbelievable story. No one believed her. They thought that the girl was fibbing in order to avoid telling them the truth. No one believed her, except her neighbour. They both knew each other well enough to know when the other was telling a lie.
After filling their pots the women dispersed. The other girl was thoughtful. She also wanted the diamonds and decided upon a plan. Soon enough an opportunity presented itself. The girl cooked many dishes, all with gas inducing ingredients. Before lunch the girl, with the pretext of tasting the dishes consumed much food. Her belly was tight! She tried hard to release the gas, but in vain! She ate more, and more; tried harder. She kept on trying to fart but it was not to be.

Vayu was a faithful ally of Indra, the king of gods. The girl was getting sadder by the minute, but something happened. Just as she bent to serve her father-in-law, a faintest of farts escaped her. She was elated! She rushed to the well and jumped. She died instantly. Yama’s aides were waiting for her. They escorted her to Indra’s court. Before Indra could ask, the girl putting on a great show of shame and grief told Indra why she had committed suicide at such a young age. He sent for Vayu. His guards returned with the news that Vayu was hospitalized with high fever and inexplicable but severe injuries to his whole body. Indra arranged to visit him with his retinue accompanying him and the girl. Vayu looked very badly hurt. Indra, moved to pity restored Vayu to some semblance of health and asked him what the reason was for breaching his trust.

Vayu sat up with difficulty and told Indra how the girl had coerced him. He told how he had resisted, pointing to his wounds and sobbed uncontrollably. Indra put his hand on Vayu and restored him to full health. They returned to court. He called in Kuber and fired an angry order, “Go at once and fashion ornaments in lead and iron. Don’t waste time designing things of beauty. A token embellishment would do fine!”

When heavy ornaments in lead and iron were brought to court and the girl bedecked with them, Indra said, “Go now back to mortality and toil there till such a time as death does not relieve you!” Quietly Indra’s guard accompanied the girl, deep into the cold waters of the well in the village.

Indra revoked the orders given to Vayu and said, Vayu, my dear friend and ally; I am pleased with your devotion. From today you are free to inflict any stomach that you deem worthy of your grace!” Vayu smiled at his Divine master. He saluted Indra and took his leave.

STORY COLLECTED BY: Charudatta Prabhudesai
STORY TOLD BY- Heard from the locals
LOCATION: Goa
IMAGE DETAILS: Wikipedia

The ‘Stri parva’ section of the Mahabharata narrates a story. In the story a Brahmin was journeying on foot, he comes to an impenetrable forest that scares him to death because it was teeming with huge, carnivorous beasts. Horrible, voracious beasts were scattered on every side, such as lions, tigers and elephants. When he saw this, his heart pounded wildly; his hair bristled and stood straight up. Running through the wood, dashing this way and that, looking out in every direction, he wondered, “Where can I take refuge?”. He searched for some opening among those beasts; racing forward in terror but, he could not get out, and he could not get far enough from the beasts. In some time he saw that horrible wood was surrounded by a net on every side, and that an absolutely horrible woman had embraced the wood with her arms. The large wood was dotted here and there with five headed snakes, lofty mountains that touched the sky like tall trees.
In the midst of that wood there was a covered up well; its opening was choked with vines that were hidden under the covering of grass. The Brahmin fell into that hidden well and got caught in the webbing of the vine’s filament. He hung there with his feet up and head down, like a big jack fruit hanging by the stalk. And then another calamity made things worse. He saw a large, black brindled elephant at the edge of the top of the wall. It had six faces and moved on twelve feet and it was gradually working its way over the well, which was covered by vines and trees. As the Brahmin clung to the branch of tree, at its end there were all sorts of frightening, horrible looking bees; they had gathered honey and were returning to their hive. Honey is the sweetest of all things…….A stream of this honey was flowing there constantly and copiously, and that man hanging there drank from that stream. But in this dire situation, as he drank it, his craving did not abate. Never satisfied, he kept wanting it again and again. And the man never lost hope for his life….though white and black rats were cutting at the root of the tree on which his hope of survival depended!
He was afraid of the wild animals on the periphery of the impenetrable wood, of the extremely ferocious woman, of the snake below him in the well, of the elephant at the rim of the well, and fifth, he was afraid that the tree might fall because of the rats. There was also fear of bees that were greedy for the honey.
This story is told by Vidura to Dhrtarastra. Dhrtarastra was not only physically blind, but is also blinded by the affection for his sons. After narrating the story, Vidura explains that this is an allegory of human existence. The impenetrable wood is the mystery of rebirth. From which it is difficult to get away. The wild beasts are mental and physical diseases that frighten men, the gigantic woman is decay of old age that destroys one’s beauty, and the well is human body in which the soul hangs. The great snake at the bottom of the well is all devouring time, which takes everything away from human beings. And the vine and plant that grew across the middle of the well are desires of the embodied soul to stay alive. The huge elephant moving around the mouth of the well is a year, his six mouths are six seasons and twelve feet are twelve months. The rats that were cutting down at the root of the tree were days and nights, the bees are numerous desires for pleasure and trickling honey is sweet juice of pleasure in which men drown.
This story presents a very grim picture of human existence. But forgetting the inevitability of the diseases, crippling old age and ultimate destruction of human body, we occupy ourselves in accumulating riches, which we may never enjoy. Like the man who is surrounded by dangers from all sides forgets the imminent threat and fragile existence of human being and enjoys the pleasure of drinking the trickling honey. Similarly the soul in human body is deluded by the desire of pleasure.
Story collected by: Dr Ravi Khangai
Source: Mahabharata
Location: pan India

Dr. Ravi Khangai, Assistant Professor, Department of History, Rashtrasant Tukadoji Maharaj Nagpur University, India.