In the evening of his reign, when the burden of kingship was laid aside, Yayāti retired into the forest. Sustained at first by fruits and roots, he gave himself wholly to austerity. In time he cast away even that gentle diet, living only upon water, and for thirty years continued in unbroken penance. Later still, he sustained himself upon air alone, standing amidst the five sacred fires prescribed by the Veda, upon one leg, lost in meditation.
The severity of his devotion pleased the gods, and Indra dispatched a celestial chariot to bear him to paradise. From there, Yayāti journeyed to Brahmā’s abode, dwelling many years in bliss, before returning to Indra’s heaven. There, Indra himself welcomed him with reverence, honoring his steadfast penance. With curiosity, the king of gods inquired: “When thou didst anoint Puru as king, what counsel didst thou impart to him?”
Yayāti replied: “I taught him to make the wisdom of the ancestors his guiding lamp, to uphold their dharma without swerving an inch. To reward the worthy with abundance, to free men from dependency, to never turn away any who come in need. I told him to guard all beings, to speak truth in the court with discretion—brief, sweet, appropriate, bound by righteousness. Words must never wound like arrows those who seek justice. Warriors must not trample the innocent. The king must discern truth with a steadfast, clear, impartial mind, showing kindness, calmness, and transparency in dealing with the oppressed. He must conquer the six inner enemies—pride, lust, anger, jealousy, misery, and ignorance—for only he who overcomes these can master the threats from without. Such were my teachings to my son.”
Indra, pleased, then asked: “O noble king, thy wisdom is rare indeed. Tell me, what austerities didst thou perform to gain such radiant merit, surpassing centuries of penance, to dwell resplendent in paradise?”
Yayāti, exalted in spirit, answered with pride: “My penance exceeds that of gods, Daityas, Yakshas, Rakshasas, Siddhas, and sages. None before nor after me can match its aura and brilliance. I have endured the most arduous austerities, unattainable to others.” But his boast darkened his heart. In belittling the penance of sages and noble souls, his vision was clouded, and Indra rebuked him: “Yayāti, thy pride has diminished thy virtue. The glory thou didst earn is now spent, for pride devours the fruit of long austerities. Thou art no longer fit for heaven—go thou to lower realms.”
In grief, Yayāti pleaded: “O king of gods, let me not return to the mortal world. Grant me instead a place among the stars.” Indra, moved, granted the wish. Thus, Yayāti, in subtle form, moved among the constellations, his brilliance delighting the very stars. His grandsons—Āstaka, Pratardhana, and Vasumanta—were raised to dwell in the sacred region of the constellations, and beholding their ancestor, they received him with honor: “Who art thou, radiant one? From whence dost thou come, and what cause brings thee here?”
He answered: “I am Yayāti, son of Nahusha, father of Puru who rules the earth. By penance, I rose to Brahmā’s world and to Indra’s heaven. But my pride in exalting my austerities above those of gods and sages angered Indra. He taught me that the smallest outbreak of pride can consume the merit of long years. Thus, I was cast down, yet by his grace allowed to dwell among the stars.”
As their great-grandfather, his fame spread across the world. The grandsons, rejoicing, entreated him to teach them the law of dharma and adharma, the essence of good and evil, the origin of life, and the duties of social order. Yayāti instructed them thus: “Compassion to all beings and truth in speech are eternal laws. To cause distress wantonly is contrary to nature, as declared by the seers. The Vedic path is the noblest way; those who reject it fall into lower modes of life. Life begins when the seed enters the womb, stirred by the subtle powers of air and sound. Organs form, senses awaken—the ear to hear, the eye to see, the nose to smell, the tongue to taste, the skin to touch. The foetus perceives the outer world, and at birth inherits the fruits of former deeds. The virtuous rise to higher realms, the sinful descend into lesser births, as birds, insects, and beasts.”
He continued: “The righteous are they who serve their teachers with humility, who observe daily rites, who restrain their senses, who live without harming dharma. They protect the young, support the aged, honour every aspect of creation, and conserve the fragile world entrusted to them. They live simply, justly, responsibly, and by their virtue ascend to higher spheres. But fire-rites performed in pride, Vedic hymns chanted for display, silence practiced for fame, and sacrifices without wisdom are sins, barren of fruit.”
Having spoken thus, Yayati blessed his grandsons, assuring them of ascent to the higher worlds. They rejoiced in his words, declaring their joy at being guided by their grandsire. By virtue of his descendants, Yayati himself rose higher still.
Thus, in the narration of Vaiśampāyana to Janamejaya, the tale of Yayati is set among the vast inheritance of dharma, which the Mahabharata preserves: the births of sages and gods, of Daityas and Dānavas, of Yakshas and kings, of incarnations divine and struggles between dharma and adharma. This endless treasury of wisdom, woven into the great epic, stands for the guidance of mankind through all ages.
