The Journey of Learning

Vishwamitra: Part 4 - Shunahshepa

His mind was in turmoil. He was a miniscule raft negotiating a typhoon ravaged sea of emotions. Tidal waves of disgust, anger, sadness and fear hit him one after the other. "Hatred? Not hatred", he corrected himself. It was disillusionment. But longing? Yes, he still loved his parents and brothers though they had knowingly given him away to be sacrificed. His heart would continue to ache for them until his last breath, which he would probably take within a few days.

There was no question in his mind that his family loved him. But what saddened him was that his parents seem to love his siblings more.

To be fair to them, he reflected, they had never offered to give him away. He himself had offered to go away to die.

His father had refused to part with his elder sibling and his mother did not wish to give away the younger one. Neither of them had asked him to go or agreed to the king to sell their sons. But as he heard them confess their special love for his siblings, his mind rebelled. He wanted to get away.

How could being middle born be a fault?

Why would that be a reason to receive less love compared to his siblings?

How could his Parents have more space in their heart for their first and last born?

His Parents had tried to stop him. The king would find someone else to sacrifice, they had reasoned with him. He was the king after all.

But he had stood firm with his decision. He detested even talking to them. The good-byes were hazy. His mother had hugged him and cried inconsolably. There were tears in his father's and siblings' eyes. Tears flowed down his cheeks too, but he told himself those were tears of anger. He asked the king to take him away quickly. He did not belong there anymore.

The king had requested him to ride along in his chariot. Being the replacement to the sacrificial animal, he was the most important resource to the king. His clouded mind reasoned that the king would like to keep him in sight at all times, lest he changed his mind and ran away. That would never happen. He had given his word. He had let the king buy him from his parents. So, he was the king's property now. He would not renege on his Dharma.

Tears continued to flow down his cheeks as he stood next to the king in his chariot, but quickly dried in the chilly morning wind that hit his face. The king frequently urged his charioteer to increase the pace. It was understandable that he desperately wanted to get back to the sacrificial altar and complete the Yajna. The king saw the boy going through emotional upheavals and decided not to disturb him with any attempts of conversation. If the youngster decided go back on his word the king would have to start searching all over again. It was better to let him be and get the ritual over with as soon as possible.

The cyclone of anger and disgust slowly gave way to a high-tide of sadness and self-pity.

Raking his mind, he tried to see if he had committed any grave mistakes during his short life time. He could only recollect pranks that any youngster would play. His siblings were guilty of those too. He could not fathom any reason for his parents to be extra affectionate towards his siblings. It just made him feel sadder. It is only when a critical decision point arises, he reasoned, that the extent of love can be tested. His parents had been forced to pick and he felt inadequate that they had not picked him.

Fear finally surfaced. His short life was going to end, very soon. He was still young. He had ambitions in life. He had been a good pupil under his father. He wished to learn from other teachers and gain knowledge on his own through Tapas. He wished to live a long, fruitful life. Although he had opted to die on the spur of the moment, he was overwhelmingly scared.

But he did not want either the king or the kingdom to suffer the consequences of an incomplete Yajna. The fear of death would not make him desert the king. If only there was a way both the Yajna and his life could be saved!