“O Sages, learned scholars and noble Brahmins,” addressed Visvamitra, his voice imbued with solemnity and purpose, “farewell to you, and accept my deepest gratitude for your unwavering support, which enabled me to uphold my vow.” With that, he spoke of his intent, saying, “O great souls, though I encountered obstacles in the southern lands, I shall now turn westward, to Pushkara Kshetra, to perform my penance.”
Upon reaching Pushkara, Visvamitra began an austere and rigorous penance, subsisting on the barest of sustenance. Meanwhile, King Ambarisha reigned over Ayodhya, where he had embarked upon a grand Yajna (sacrifice). But a crisis soon struck: the sacrificial cattle, essential to the ritual, had been stolen. When informed, the chief priest admonished the king, “It is a grave omen, O King. Your duty to protect the sacrificial beast has failed. There can be no alternative but to either retrieve it or seek a substitute, none other than a human sacrifice.”
Bound to his duty, Ambarisha searched every corner of the kingdom in vain. Desperate, he scoured the villages, towns, forests, and countryside until, at last, he came upon Brungatunga mountain, where the sage Ruchika dwelled with his wife and three sons, living in serene contentment. Approaching the sage, Ambarisha respectfully inquired after his welfare, then voiced his petition, “O wise one, I beg you to grant me one of your sons as an offering for the Yajna. In return, I shall bestow upon you a hundred thousand cattle.”
Ruchika, with a heavy heart, replied, “I cannot part with my eldest son.” His wife added, “Nor can I bear to lose our youngest.” Realizing this, the king understood that the middle son was available. Hearing this discourse, the middle son himself came forth and spoke with composure, “Both my father and mother are prepared to give me to you. I shall go with you, O King.” And thus, the youth, known as Sunashepa, was handed over, and the king departed swiftly, carrying the boy upon his chariot.
By the afternoon, they arrived at Pushkara Kshetra. As they took a brief rest, Sunashepa wandered among the hermitages, seeking water. It was then that he encountered Visvamitra and, with a sense of despair, introduced himself, saying, “I am Sunashepa, orphaned by fate. You, who have saved countless souls, grant me your blessing, that I may live long and escape this plight.” Touched, Visvamitra recalled that this boy was the son of his own sister.
Moved by compassion, the sage summoned his sons and commanded, “My sons, through your rituals, you have acquired great virtue. Now save this boy by taking his place in the king’s sacrifice.” His sons, however, defied his wish, scoffing at his command. Angered by their insolence, Visvamitra cursed them to live as ruthless hunters, dwelling far from civilized society, surviving on wild animals in the depths of the forest.
Turning to Sunashepa, Visvamitra imparted sacred mantras, reassuring him, “Fear not, my child. When they adorn you in red garments, anoint your body with red sandalwood, and bind you to the sacrificial post, silently recite these mantras. You will witness a miracle. Be brave, for I give you, my word.”
The boy, heartened by this blessing, hastened to the king. They resumed their journey, and upon reaching the capital, Ambarisha began the Yajna. As the rites neared completion, Sunashepa invoked Agni and Indra, and, in a divine response, the king received abundant blessings and released the boy unharmed.
Visvamitra’s penance was recognized by Brahma, who appeared before him and declared, “You have attained the title of Maharshi, for your austerities have elevated you.” Yet, Visvamitra, ever humble, asked, “Is it acknowledged, O Lord, that I have conquered my senses?” Brahma responded, “In due course,” and withdrew.
Determined, Visvamitra delved deeper into meditation. But as his ascetic intensity reverberated through the heavens, Indra, troubled by the sage’s growing power, devised a new scheme. He sent the celestial nymph Menaka, radiant in beauty, to bathe in the sacred waters of Pushkara Kshetra. Enchanted by her splendour, Visvamitra found his heart swayed and approached her, confessing, “Fair Menaka, I am enraptured by your beauty. Stay with me.”
Thus, for ten years, they dwelt together, immersed in bliss. But one morning, a wave of realization struck him; he had been waylaid by desire and lost precious time. Suspecting that Indra had orchestrated this distraction, he resolved to free Menaka, who trembled in fear of a curse. Compassionately, he assured her, sending her away with gentle words.
Redoubling his resolve, Visvamitra entered a fierce and prolonged penance. So intense was his meditation that it sent tremors through the heavens. Yet, Indra was not done; he plotted anew, deploying another celestial beauty, Rambha, to lure the sage from his quest.
Thus, Rama, the tale told by Sadananda ends here for today, with the next chapter awaiting us on the morrow.
