Panchatantra (extract)

A vivid retelling of India’s famous collection of fables

Highly entertaining and educational stories from Ancient India. The most widely read Indian classic, translated into more than 50 languages. Its influence can be seen in The Arabian Nights, the Decameron, The Canterbury Tales and most notably in The Fables of La Fontaine. First told at least 1500 years ago by the sage Vishnu Sharma to three backward princes in an Indian king’s court (who after hearing these tales became “as wise as the king of the gods”), its morals and messages are as relevant today as they were then.

Preamble
Long ago in India there lived an old sage named Vishnu Sharma. At the same time there also lived a king called Amara Shakti who had three sons. These boys were a constant worry for the king. They paid little attention to their lessons and showed no signs of ever being able to take over the kingdom.

In great anxiety the king consulted with Vishnu Sharma, who promised that in just six months he could make the princes as wise as the great lord of heaven, Indradeva. “Mighty king,” said the sage, “more important than knowledge is knowing how to use it. I will teach this to your sons. They will learn how to think, not what to think. Then they will be ready to rule the world.”

So the king sent his sons to Vishnu Sharma. The sage then began to tell them stories. “These tales of animals and men,” he said, “will awaken your intelligence and make you equal to the gods.”

Here then are the fascinating stories told by Vishnu Sharma, which took the form of five separate books – The Panchatantra, or ‘Five Wise Lessons’.

Book One. How Friends are Lost.

The Lion and the Bull

In South India there was once a city called Mahila where a rich merchant lived with his son, Pot Belly. One night Pot Belly, who was greedy for wealth, lay tossing and turning in his bed. His mind was troubled by thoughts of how he could get more money.

“What can a rich man not achieve?” he thought. “A wise person is always trying to increase his wealth. If a man has money he also has friends. When he has no money even his own relatives leave him. A rich man is considered a scholar and a highly respectable person, even if he has no good character at all. Money makes the old grow young, but the young grow old for want of it.”

To get him started in life, Pot Belly’s father had already given him some goods, and also a pair of fine bullocks. As he lay staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep, Pot Belly decided that the next day he would go to the city to sell his wares and increase his business.

When the sun rose, Pot Belly harnessed his two bullocks to a cart. He then put all of his merchandise into the cart and, taking with him a number of servants, he set off for the city.

“Whoa Happy! Hey Frisky!” the cart driver shouted to the oxen, as he goaded them with a long whip. The cart trundled off down the road with Pot Belly riding behind on his horse, thinking happily about how much profit he would soon be making.

It was a four or five day journey through forestland to the city, but after only two days travelling, the bull called Frisky stumbled and broke a leg. He fell to the ground near the river Yamuna and lay there looking up at his master with tears in his eyes.

Pot Belly felt sorry for his bullock and he waited for three nights, hoping Frisky might get well enough to walk, but he showed no signs of getting better. One of his servants then said to him, “O master, I don’t think we should stay any longer in this jungle. It’s not safe. I hear the roars of lions and other wild beasts. Surely we should not risk everything for the sake of one ox. It is said that a wise man never sacrifices big interests for smaller ones.”

Pot Belly agreed, but he told one of his servants to remain with the injured bullock until he returned. “Keep near him and feed him. Light a fire to ward off any lions or other dangerous animals.”
Having said this, he continued his journey, leaving the servant with enough food to last him till he got back.
But the following day Pot Belly saw the servant he had left behind running up to him. “Master,” the servant said, “Frisky has died. I cremated his body.”

Saddened to hear this news, Pot Belly performed the last rites for Frisky’s soul, and then carried on his way.
However, the servant had lied. He had abandoned Frisky out of fear of his life, too afraid to stay alone in the jungle.

Frisky had been left lying on the bank of the river and he managed to drag himself over to where lush grasses were growing. Refreshed by the cool breezes from the river, and strengthened by eating the grass and drinking the river water, he gradually got better. The leg healed and he began to walk around, roaring in great happiness. He had always felt dependent on his master, and had worked hard to serve him, but now he saw that food and drink were freely available everywhere. Revelling in his newfound freedom, he let out repeated cries of happiness at the top of his huge lungs. He thought of a proverb that he had heard his master repeat,

He on whom fortune smiles,
Though alone and unprotected
Still somehow survives.
But he on whom fortune has frowned
Will lose his life
Even if defended all around.

. . .

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