Kacha, illustrious son of Brihaspati, having mastered the secret of mrityusanjivani and many hidden sciences, stood radiant with the reward of scholarship. Pleased at his brilliance, Sage Shukracharya granted him leave to return to his father’s celestial abode. With gentle affection Kacha conveyed this glad news to Devayani and sought her assent for his departure. But Devayani’s heart sank at the thought of parting, and with tender voice she spoke: “O Kacha, jewel among Brahmins, radiant like the Sun, steadfast in your celibacy and noble in conduct! I, a maiden in the bloom of youth, deem myself worthy of union with you. My heart has already yielded to you by the pull of time. You have received the boon of Sanjivani from my father’s grace; now accept me as your wife and make me happy.”
Kacha, firm though moved, replied: “Is it righteous to desire what Dharma forbids? The daughter of one’s preceptor is as a sister, for the bond of guru and pupil is as father and son. Eternal law decrees it thus, and the world would condemn aught else. O noble lady, how may you claim otherwise?” Stung by rejection, Devayani burst into wrath: “You have scorned my desire; may your art of Sanjivani prove fruitless and serve you not!” Kacha answered calmly: “I have not strayed from Dharma. Though it avails me not, those who learn it from me shall wield it with success. But since you have opposed righteousness, no Brahmin scholar shall wed you; your husband shall be from another race.” With this curse and counter-curse, he departed to the celestials and imparted his lore for the gods’ welfare.
After his leaving, Devayani one day went with Sharmishtha, daughter of King Vrishaparva, and her companions to the forest for sport. They bathed in a limpid lake when, suddenly, a fierce whirlwind swept the grove. In haste, they seized their garments, but Sharmishtha, in confusion, draped herself in Devayani’s attire. When Devayani refused to exchange garments, she proudly declared: “I am the daughter of your father’s preceptor, before whom even your king bows. How can I wear the attire of one beneath me? It is an insult.” Enraged, Sharmishtha cried: “Your father lives by the mercy of mine. Do not vaunt your pride before me!” In wrath, she thrust Devayani into a deep well and returned with her companions.
In time, King Yayati, son of Nahusha, while hunting, came upon the well and beheld a maiden clinging to a creeper, gasping for aid. “Who are you, and why in this plight?” he asked. With composure, she replied: “O Yayati, equal to Indra, I am Devayani, daughter of Shukracharya, preceptor of the Asuras. By mischance, I fell into this well. Grant me rescue.” Yayati, moved with compassion, stretched forth his right hand and drew her up. She blessed him with gratitude, and he returned to Pratishthanapura.
Yet the insult still burned within her. When her companion Ghurnika found her, she sent word to her father. Shukracharya, beholding her tears, sought to console her, teaching: “He who masters anger is greater than one who offers a thousand sacrifices. Answer not wrath with wrath. Sharmishtha is but a child; heed not her folly.” But Devayani, resolute, replied: “Shall I dwell in the house of those who insult their benefactors? We have served the king’s line faithfully, and this is their return. I will not set foot again in Vrishaparva’s court.” Shukracharya, unwilling to forsake her, resolved to leave with her.
When Vrishaparva learned this, he hastened in humility to the sage and said: “By your grace alone do we stand against the gods. Our prosperity rests in your blessing. Let Devayani’s wish be fulfilled.” Devayani then demanded: “Let Sharmishtha and her companions be given to me as handmaids.” The king consented, anxious to preserve the sage’s favour, and Sharmishtha was bound to serve Devayani.
Not long after, Devayani, with Sharmishtha and her attendants, again wandered into the forest. There, King Yayati, hunting, drew near, guided by fragrance, jingling ornaments, and the laughter of maidens. Inquiring of Sharmishtha her name and lineage, he was at once greeted by Devayani, who said: “O sinless Yayati, you know me already. This Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparva, is now but my maid. Once you drew me from the well, grasping my right hand, and the Sun bore witness. That act is panigraha, the sacred clasp of marriage. Can you deny it? Take me, then, as your wife and lord also of my companions. With me you shall hold Indra’s glory upon earth.”
Yayati, cautious, replied: “Brahmin brides are not permitted to wed Kshatriyas, though Brahmins may take Kshatriya brides. To unite with you would transgress Dharma. If your father declares it lawful, I will consent.” Devayani answered: “If my father approves, will you wed me?” Yayati agreed. Then Shukracharya appeared, and Yayati bowed before him. Devayani said, “Father, the Sun bore witness when Yayati took my hand. He has pledged marriage with your sanction. Let this union be blessed.” Shukracharya, satisfied, declared: “This marriage is not against Dharma.” With due rites, the wedding was solemnised.
The sage then charged Yayati: “Here is Sharmishtha, daughter of Vrishaparva. Honour her duly, yet let her not come between you and Devayani in love.” Yayati consented, honoured as son-in-law. Devayani bore him two sons, Yadu and Turvasu. Sharmishtha, though given as maid, shone ever brighter in beauty and dignity, her innate royalty undimmed. Thus, the tale unfolded, weaving threads destined to entwine with the mighty fabric of the Mahabharata.
