Just as this was going through his mind, one of his ministers said, “There is a small ashram in the woods, the hermitage of Sage Vasishtha. It’s a small place; we will not be able to feed ourselves there, but perhaps we can drink some water and relax a little.”
When they arrived at the ashram, King Kaushika prostrated before the sage who was said to be almost as old as the universe itself. The glow on his face, his flowing white beard, his snow-white matted locks on his medium-built body of wheatish complexion looked as if twilight meeting the morning sun. The king said with reverence, “We would just like to take a short rest here.”
“You look rather tired,” the rishi said, “and your men, exhausted. Rest here for as long as you like, I’ll make meal arrangements for all of you.”
“With due respect, O sage,” the king said with a chuckle, “I don’t think you can feed us all – there are many of us – my entire army is here.”
“You underestimate the power of penance, O king,” Vasishtha replied. “I am a rishi. I can feed and satiate the entire universe except for Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, who are satiated on their own accord alone. The one who does not seek anything, the one who does not need anything from the world, can create anything he so wishes.”
This is one of the greatest secrets of the universe: When you are fulfilled, you can manifest fairly much anything in your life. It’s when we are not fulfilled that we become impatient; we become self-centered. We become tired and narrow-minded. In chasing what we could have had, we lose sight of what we already have.
“You sure? Because I would not want that a few of our men are fed and the others remain unfed. Besides,” Kaushika said, “I don’t see anything here: I don’t see many pupils or disciples of yours. How are you going to cook such a massive meal?”
“Leave that to me,” the rishi said. “Why don’t you all go and take a dip in the river? By the time you get back, hot food will be ready.” The king was now quite intrigued. Nevertheless, he did what he was told, so along with his men, they marched down to the river. Due to rains from the night before, the water was a bit muddy, yet they all bathed. Let alone food, how will he give us even enough clean water to drink? When they returned, they sat down for the meal, and one after the other, they were served – plates full of food along with glasses filled with crystal-clear spring water.
“Eat to your heart’s content,” the sage said. “There is no dearth of anything here.”
Now then, it was only natural that after he had eaten, Kaushika thought, how could he do this? A sage, on his own, feeding a king and his army? It’s unheard of, quite incredible .
“How did you make this happen?” he asked Vasishtha.
“I have a cow, a female calf called Nandini, given to me by Indra, and Indra has a wish-fulfilling cow called Kamadhenu. Nandini is the calf of Kamadhenu, and she fulfills wishes.”
He is a sage, an ascetic. What need does he have for a calf like that? What if I had it in my kingdom. I could feed everybody; I would become supreme. I could travel with my army with just one calf beside us, and she would feed us all. We would never run out of food. We could keep conquering territories after territories.
Kaushika got thinking. This sage does not need all this power. It’s something that should belong to a king.
“So how does this work?” he asked Vasishtha. “This calf, can you request anything of her? Does she grant anything you ask? For instance, if I said, ‘Fill my treasury with gold’, would she do it?”
“She can grant anything you need in the present moment,” the sage said. He knew where this was going but he kept his calm. “Anything you may require in the future, she cannot, because that goes against the fabric of nature. For nature never hoards; nature exists in the present, progressing from one moment to another. So Nandini only provides whatever you require now.”
“That will also do. I ask you, please give me this calf.”
“I’m sorry, Your Majesty, that cannot happen, because she has come here by grace, and she is treated like a mother. Besides, you are a king; you will use her solely for your material gains. I, however, have used her boons for the welfare of others: to feed hungry people.”
Kaushika was unimpressed. The desire to possess Nandini had taken over, and the basic foundation of Sanatana Dharma – respect for your elders – was crumbling under the weight of ambition. “I am your king and you are in my kingdom, and I am the one who is supporting you. Therefore, I demand that you give me your calf.”
“I seek your forgiveness, but I cannot. Nandini is under my care and protection. She is my gift, and she is Mother Divine to us.”
“Protection?” Kaushika laughed loudly. “You, a lone, aging sage will protect her from my army? Give her to me.” Saying this, he nodded to his chief minister.
Vasishtha kept quiet to indicate his disapproval.
“Well, I will take her then.” The king moved a step in the direction of the calf. This was the beginning of their lifelong discord. “Don’t say I didn’t warn!”
“You cannot,” Vasishtha replied with a chilling conviction and calm in his voice.
“How will you protect yourself?” Kaushika said. “Just take a look at my army. They are powerful like the ocean. They will overwhelm you in no time at all.”
“You may not take Nandini.”
While this ruckus was going on, Kaushika’s men had untied Nandini from her post. Vasishtha immediately moved to the spot where Nandini was and she said to Vasishtha, “Why are you are giving me away? What wish of yours have I not fulfilled? I like it here in the woods. This is my place. I don’t want to go from here.”
“I am not giving you away, O mother,” Vasishtha said. “He is taking you and he is testing me. But you are the mother, and I am your child. I will use the power of my penance but it is with your grace alone. Bless me.”
Vasishtha whispered a mantra and used a kriya called stambhan in Tantra. Stambhan is the method of making anything stop. You can do agni-stambhan , for example, which stops fire, jala- or vayu-stambhan to stop rain or air, and so on. Vasishtha stopped Kaushika’s army. His men were rooted to the spot; they could not move even an inch. Soon, their bodies became unbearably heavy, their joints hurt and extreme depression seeped into their heads. They became suicidal. Several hours passed after which the king apologized and pleaded with Vasishtha to forgive and release him and his army.
Kaushika returned to his palace with the fire of revenge burning his heart, that whisper of a mantra seething his ears. “I was ridiculed and had to beg for forgiveness in front of my own men. I, Kaushika, was defeated by somebody who didn’t even carry a weapon. This is not befitting of my status. I need the power this sage has. In the woods, he is fulfilled. He can manifest anything, and he is protected. I am no longer going to conquer territories and rule. I’m going to attain the power of this sage.” With that, he decided to renounce his kingdom and devote his life to tapas .
Tapas is penance, not in the form of just repentance, but in the form of invocation. With all his fervor, Kaushika prayed to Shiva for 1000 years, the original creator of mantras.
“Varam bhoohi ,” Shiva appeared in his glorious form and said. Ask for a boon.