Aruni, the obedient disciple - - adapted from the lesser known tales from within the Mahabharata

Aruni, the obedient disciple 

In the heart of ancient India, amidst the towering Himalayas, lived a renowned sage named Ayoda-Dhoumya. His ashram was a serene sanctuary of spiritual learning. Among his many disciples, three were particularly dedicated: Upamanyu, Aruni, and Veda. Each possessed unique qualities, but all shared a deep reverence for their teacher and a thirst for sacred knowledge.



One day, a crisis struck the nearby kingdom of Uttraya. A devastating breach had occurred in the vital dike that protected their fields from the wrath of the river. The people faced the imminent threat of flooding, their livelihoods hanging by a thread. The dike was located in the mountain slopes above the ashram. The shepherds who moved about in those hills came to the ashram in the evening and informed the sage Ayoda-Dhoumya. They were worried that if the flow of the water increased to the lower slopes and plains, the poor farmers would lose their crops. 



Ayoda-Dhoumya, with his understanding of the strength of the mountain rivers, recognized the gravity of the situation. He turned to Aruni, a disciple known for his courage and selflessness, and entrusted him with a perilous task. "Aruni," he said, "the people of Uttraya are in dire need. Journey to upper mountains and locate the rock and earthen dam and identify the threat to the dike. You will need to stop the breach in the dike. Your bravery and devotion will be tested. Your intelligence and innovation is the most crucial in this effort. In the meanwhile, Upamanyu will travel to the lower slopes and to the army outpost in the plains and will inform them about the threat. The King needs to know."

Aruni, eager to serve his teacher and to prove himself, set off on his journey. The path to the upper mountain slopes was arduous, leading through dense forests, slippery slopes that had become impossible to walk on with the heavy rainstorm, and the raging mountain river streams. But Aruni's determination was unwavering. He arrived at the rock and earthen dam, his heart heavy, and searched for the dike and tried to locate the breach.

It was almost impossible to locate the threatening breach. The rock and earthen dam was completely soaked in the rainstorm and the sandy dike had changed its appearance. The dike had become extremely slippery and the breach could not be located easily. Aruni walked alongside the dike, trying to understand the earthen slope, his palm placed on it to get a feel for the breach. At one particular location, the surface smoothness of the dike changed, and Aruni could feel the split in the structure. He examined it closely and realised that there was an additional water stream coming out of the dike. 

The breach could widen suddenly and it would allow the waters collected in the dam to rush out with great strength and flow down to the lower slopes within the hour. In front of his own eyes, the breach was widening. Aruni thought of every method he knew to stop the flow of water - building sandbags, diverting the current, even offering prayers to the river gods. He could not think of an efficient way of closing the dike without having to return to the ashram to get materials and men. He had to think of another way. The water, relentless and powerful, continued to erode the dike, threatening to engulf the lower slopes and the farms on the plains in the valley.

Despair began to creep into Aruni's heart. He felt a deep sense of failure, unable to fulfill his teacher's trust. He had to try or he would have to kill himself. He could not return to the ashram and confess his failure. But then, a realization from one of the early teachings from his gurudev struck him. He remembered a legend, a tale of a hero who had sacrificed himself to save his people. Inspired by this legend, Aruni made a decision.

He squeezed himself into the breach, entering it, the water swirling around him, threatening to consume him. With a deep breath, he placed himself as a block in the gap, his body forming a human dam. The water, encountering the obstacle, slowed and eventually stopped. The water stream from the breach had stopped. All he had to do now was to wait for the rainstorm to end. 

Meanwhile, back at the ashram, by mid-morning of the next day, Ayoda-Dhoumya grew concerned. He had not heard from Aruni for the entire night and the early morning. Worried, he asked his other disciples about his whereabouts and if anyone had seen him moving about in the ashrama. The rainstorm had stopped and there was bright sunlight all around and the warmth of the day was beginning to get pleasant. 

"O Bhagavan," the senior disciples replied, "Aruni went to the upper slopes of the great mountains above our ashrama to stop the breach in the dike as you instructed. We have not seem him since."

Ayoda-Dhoumya, sensing something amiss, decided to climb the upper slopes and examine the rock and earthen dam himself. He asked his disciples to accompany him and to carry soil digging equipment, rock breaking chisels and some food. He traveled with a large group of disciples and shepherds, their hearts filled with both hope and fear. When they arrived at the dike, they were greeted by a sight that could not be explained. The breach was sealed, the water no longer posed a threat.

Ayoda-Dhoumya called out for Aruni, his voice filled with relief and pride. Aruni, exhausted but triumphant, called out from within the breach. He explained what had happened and that he had stepped into the breach to block the waters. The great sage, happy with the dedication and innovation shown by Aruni asked for him to step out of the breach. 

Aruni explained, “O Gurudev, O Bhagavan, I am unable to do so. The soil in the dike and in the breach had been extremely wet and smooth during the rainstorm. Now it has hardened and compressed as the sun came out at dawn and the warmth of the mid morning has narrowed the breach and I am now unable to step out. Someone would need to dig in for me and allow me to come out to seek your blessings.”

The sage asked for his disciples to help Aruni by opening up the dike to allow for him to step out. The disciples were also instructed to immediately work with their tools and equipment to seal the breach and fill in the gaps with the smooth soil from the nearby ditches that had not been exposed to the sun and its warmth. 

Aruni was soon able to step out of the breach and he stood before his teacher, his clothes soaked and his body weary, but his spirit unbroken.

"You have saved the people of Uttraya, Aruni," Ayoda-Dhoumya said, his voice trembling with emotion. "Your sacrifice will never be forgotten. From now on, you shall be known as Uddalaka, the savior."

Ayoda-Dhoumya blessed Uddalaka with divine knowledge and wisdom, recognizing his extraordinary courage and selflessness. He prophesied that Uddalaka would become a great teacher and inspire countless others.

With a heart filled with gratitude and a sense of purpose, Uddalaka returned to the ashram. His sacrifice had not only saved the people but had also elevated him to a higher spiritual plane. He continued to serve his teacher and his fellow beings, his obedience to his gurudev becoming a legend that would be passed down through generations. Adapted from the Mahabharata

Bharat Bhushan

17 October 2024


The birth of Aruni, who was Rishabha

The Village and the Temple

High in the upper Himalayas, along the sacred pilgrimage path to Mount Kailash and the pristine Lake Manasarovar, there was a small village, Devakula, quiet and timeless. Perched on the slopes of jagged mountains, it overlooked vast valleys, and its stone houses, built to withstand the cold winds, clung to the earth as if seeking warmth from the gods. Above the village, near a high ridge, stood a small temple, Devakuleshwara, dedicated to Shiva and Parvati, where the villagers worshipped and pilgrims rested on their long journey to the abode of the gods.

In this temple lived Rishada, a priest and his wife, Dhanya, who helped clean and maintain the premises, their lives bound by service to the divine. For years, they had tended to the sacred fire and offered prayers, ensuring the temple was a place of peace for all who sought solace. Their days were simple, filled with early morning prayers, tending to the temple garden, and chanting Vedic hymns as the golden sunlight bathed the temple walls.

Rishada, with his very humble demeanour and gentle eyes, was known for his devotion and wisdom. His wife, Dhanya, possessed quiet strength, her gentle determination mirroring the serene mountains surrounding their home. Together, they had served the temple faithfully for years, but there was a quiet sorrow they carried with them. For despite their deep prayers and pious lives, the gods had not blessed them with a child.

Each day, Dhanya would offer flowers at the feet of Parvati, whispering her wish for a child, hoping that her prayers might one day be answered. Rishada, though outwardly calm, felt the weight of their childlessness too, but he never questioned the gods' will. "The gods know best," he would tell Dhanya each night as they sat together under the star-filled sky. "We must trust their plan."

The visit of Vamadeva, the mendicant sage

One evening, as a cold mountain storm swept through the village, Vamadeva, an elderly mendicant sage arrived at the temple gates. He was quite well known from earlier visits while travelling to the upper mountain ranges and to the lower slopes in different months. His robes were worn from years of travel, and his hair was matted like the roots of an ancient tree. Yet his eyes shone with a light that seemed to pierce through the darkness of the storm.

Rishada and Dhanya welcomed him into the temple, offering him warm food and a place to rest. They requested him to stay the night and bless them with being able to offer their hospitality to the sage as there was a possibility of an impending rainstorm. As the fire crackled in the hut, Vamadeva spoke to them about the ashrama of the great Sage Kashyapa, and of having wandered through the mountains in search of spiritual solitude in all his living years.

“You are kind,” Vamadeva said in a soft, yet commanding voice. “The gods favour you both.”

“We are humble servants of the gods,” Rishada replied, bowing his head. “We do what is asked of us.”

As they sat together that evening, the storm raging outside, Vamadeva watched Rishada and Dhanya carefully, sensing the quiet sorrow that lay behind their words. When they were about to retire for the night, the sage, his eyes thoughtful, approached them.

“You have served this temple with great devotion,” he said. “I have known the two of you for many years. But there is a question that burdens your hearts. Speak it, and I shall listen.”

Dhanya glanced at Rishada, and for the first time in many years, tears welled in her eyes. “We have no children, O Sage. It has been years since our marriage, but we remain childless. We are born of this village, both of us, and we pray each day, but the gods remain silent. We want to have the joy of being blessed with a child.”

The sage closed his eyes in deep contemplation. After a long moment, he spoke again. “Your prayers have not been in vain. The gods have heard you. You need to take the decision and today, by speaking of it to me, you have begun to permit Mahadeva’s most mysterious game of time, Mahakaal, to begin. I have come to offer you a choice.”

The Blessing

The storm outside seemed to grow quieter as the sage’s voice filled the temple. “You may have four daughters, each representing one of the sacred directions—Uttara, Purva, Dakshina, Paschima—and they shall bring great joy and peace to your household. They will remain in this village, serving it with kindness and devotion, and your family will prosper.”

Dhanya and Rishada looked at each other with hope in their eyes. Not one, but four daughters, a gift from the gods, would be a blessing indeed.

But the sage was not finished. “Or,” he continued, “you may have one son. After his infant and youth years, he will not remain here with you, but his name will be spoken of far beyond this village. He will seek knowledge in the great ashramas of the Himalayas, study the Vedas, and walk the path of the gods. His wisdom will surpass many, and he will be remembered for generations.”

The couple sat in silence, considering the offer. They had always dreamed of a family, children who would care for them in their old age. But the idea of a son who would carry forth their devotion into the wider world was a blessing beyond measure. Rishada and Dhanya looked at one another, worried about the choice that may be voiced by the other. Rishada hugged Dhanya and understood her silence. It would be painful for them, but the blessing would make them stronger in their service to Mahadeva and Parvati. 

Finally, Rishada spoke. “We are grateful for any blessing, but we would wish for the son who would walk away from this village. If it is the will of the gods, let him be a light to the world, even if we must watch him from afar.”

Vamadeva smiled, his eyes glinting in the firelight. “So be it. The gods have decreed it. You shall have a son, and he shall be as brilliant as the rising sun. His name shall carry wisdom, and he will walk the path of righteousness. But, this was a test, and Devi Parvati would not permit me to walk away by denying you the joy of a daughter. Thus, you would be blessed, for the twin children, the brilliant son who would leave you, and the daughter who would stay back, in service to the temple.”

The Birth of Rishabha

True to the sage’s words, Dhanya soon gave birth to a healthy son, whom they named Rishabha and to a beautiful daughter, Girija. The village rejoiced, for it was known that the children carried the blessings of the gods. Their birth brought great joy, but from the very beginning, it was clear that Rishabha was no ordinary child while Girija always radiated the aura of a spiritual being. 

Rishabha was a quiet infant, with large, watchful eyes that seemed to understand the world around him in ways others could not. As he grew, Rishabha became known for his curiosity and devotion to learning. Even before he could walk, he would sit at his father’s feet during the daily prayers, mimicking the sacred chants.

By the time he was ten, Rishabha had mastered many of the prayer hymns that even the elders in the village struggled with. His parents marveled at his intelligence, but deep within their hearts, they knew that their son’s destiny lay beyond the village. The day was fast approaching when he would leave to seek the higher knowledge that had been promised by the sage.

Rishabha Becomes Aruni

When Rishabha turned twelve, a group of wandering scholars visited the village, on their way to the great ashrama of Kashyapa in the upper Himalayas. They were to attend a significant sacrifice that would take months of preparation and several other months of consecration to the Gods in the remote upper ranges of the inner Himalayas. Among them was a learned sage, Ayoda-Dhoumya, whose wisdom was revered across the land.

Sensing Rishabha’s potential, Ayoda-Dhoumya approached Rishada and Dhanya. “Your son is destined for greatness,” he said. “Send him with me, and I will guide him to the path of enlightenment.”

Though it pained them to see their only son leave, Rishada and Dhanya remembered the blessing conveyed by Vamadeva all those years ago. With heavy hearts but full of hope, they gave their blessings, knowing that Rishabha’s destiny was not theirs to hold.

Before he left, Rishabha sought the blessings of his parents. “Remember where you came from,” Rishada told him, placing his hand on his son’s head. “You are a child of the mountains, but your wisdom will soar beyond these peaks.”

With those words in his heart, Rishabha journeyed to Ayoda-Dhoumya’s ashrama, where he was initiated into the path of learning. Upon taking diksha, Rishabha was renamed Aruni, a name that symbolized the rising sun and the dawn of wisdom.

The Journey Ahead

Under the guidance of Sage Ayoda-Dhoumya, Aruni blossomed into a disciplined and obedient disciple. He absorbed knowledge like the sacred rivers absorbed the prayers of the pilgrims. His reputation as a devoted student grew, and his teacher’s faith in him never wavered.

The child born from faith, blessed by the gods, had begun his journey. And though his parents no longer saw him each day, they took comfort in knowing that their son was walking the path of righteousness, one that would forever be remembered in the annals of history.

Aruni’s story had only just begun.


Bharat Bhushan

18 October 2024


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