Garudapurana 1.114

The glorious Garuḍa Mahāpurāṇa — 114
Sūta said: / No one is anyone's friend; no one is anyone's enemy; / friends as well as enemies arise only from a cause.

A protection from grief, a protection from fear, a vessel of love and trust: / by whom was this jewel created, the two syllables 'mi-tra' (friend)?

He by whom the two syllables 'ha-ri' (Hari) have been uttered even once / has girded his loins for the journey toward liberation.

Not in a mother, nor in a wife, nor in a uterine brother, nor in a son / do men have such trust as in a natural-born friend.

If one desires lasting affection, one should avoid three faults: / gambling, transactions involving wealth, and looking at another's wife in secret.

One should not sit in a secluded seat with one's mother, sister, or daughter; / powerful is the assembly of the senses; it drags away even a learned man.

Desire for perverse sexual pleasure is not found among one's own people; / just as the expedient means [require], punishment and execution follow accordingly.

The motion even of the wind at the end of an aeon, of a horse, or of the great ocean / can be understood, but never that of a heart devoid of affection.

There is no opportunity, there is no private place, and there is no suitor; / by that, O Śaunaka, chastity arises in women.

She attends constantly on one, but another is pleasing to her heart; / it is only from the lack of men that a woman is devoted to her husband.

Those secret things that a mother does when stricken by desire / should not be thought about by sons, lest their good character be corrupted.

Sleep subject to another's will; following the whim of another's heart; always feigned laughter, yet certainly devoid of grief; / a body put up for hire; a throat torn by the fingernails of rakes—such conduct full of deep longing is honored by a courtesan in this world.

Fire, water, women, fools, snakes, and royal families— / these six, constantly courted by others, can instantly take one's life.

What wonder if a brāhmaṇa skilled in grammar and treatises becomes learned? What wonder if a king skilled in statecraft becomes righteous? / What wonder if a passionate woman endowed with beauty and youth is faithful? The wonder is if a poor man never commits a sin.

One should not expose one's own vulnerability to another, but should know another's vulnerability; / one should conceal one's limbs like a tortoise and observe the disposition of others.

Even women who dwell in the depths of Rasātala, or are kept behind high walls, / if not for the sprout of love, by whom could they not be obtained?

A thorn among one's kin is of equal standing, knows one's weak points, and is sharp; / an enemy residing outside, who has declared hostility, does not harass one in such a manner.

He is wise who wins over a child with sweets, an educated person with humility, / a woman with wealth, the gods through austerity, and all the worlds by good conciliation.

Those who desire a friend by deceit, dharma by foulness, the attainment of prosperity by tormenting others, / learning through ease, and a woman through another man—they are not wise.

The foolish man who, desiring fruit, cuts down a fruit-bearing tree— / his endeavor is fruitless, and he incurs great fault.

An ascetic endowed with wealth, toil accomplished from afar, / and a wine-drinking woman who is chaste—O brāhmaṇa, I do not believe in these.

One should not trust the untrustworthy, nor should one trust even a friend; / at some time an angered friend might reveal every secret.

Trust toward all beings, purity toward all beings, / and concealing one's own nature within oneself—this is indeed the mark of a virtuous person.

Whatever deed is done, it follows the doer; / even when living in every circumstance, one should keep a mind of steadfastness.

Old women, new wine, dried meat, trimūlaka, / curd at night, and sleep during the day—a wise person should avoid these six.

An assembly is poison to a poor man; a young woman is poison to an old man; / ill-learned knowledge is poison; eating when suffering from indigestion is poison.

Singing is pleasing to an uninhibited person; a high seat is pleasing to a base person; / giving is pleasing to a poor man; and a young woman is pleasing to an old man.

Drinking too much water, eating hard food, loss of semen, suppressing natural urges, / sleeping by day, and staying awake at night—through these six, diseases dwell in men.

The morning sun, excessive sexual intercourse, smoke from a cremation ground, warming the hands over fire, / and gazing upon the face of a menstruating woman—surely these wear away even a very long lifespan.

Dried meat, old women, the morning sun, fresh curd, / sexual intercourse at dawn, and sleep [by day]—these six take away life immediately.

Freshly clarified butter, grapes, a young woman, a meal of milk, / warm water, and the shade of a tree—these six sustain life immediately.

Water from a well, the shade of a banyan tree, and the breasts of women / become warm in the cold season and cool in the hot season.

Three immediately produce strength: a young woman, oil massage, and good food; / three immediately destroy strength: travel on a road, sexual intercourse, and fever.

Dried meat and milk should always be eaten only with one's wife and friends; / it must not be consumed together with kings, for it causes estrangement in an instant.

One who wears dirty clothes, whose teeth are stained with grime, who eats gluttonously, who speaks harsh words, / and who sleeps at sunrise or at sunset—even if he were Cakrapāṇi, Fortune abandons him.

Constantly cutting grass, scratching the ground, rubbing one's feet together, uncleanness of the teeth, wearing dirty clothes, dryness of the hair, / sleeping during the two twilights, lying down naked, excessive mouthfuls or laughter, and tapping rhythms on one's own body or on a seat—these bring destruction even to Keśava's Fortune.

A well-washed head, well-cleaned feet, resort to an excellent woman, eating little, / not sleeping naked, and sexual intercourse at proper times—these six restore prosperity that was long lost.

Of whatever flower it may be, but especially a white one, / when worn upon the head, misfortune is indeed repelled.

The shadow behind a lamp, the shadow of a bed or a seat, / and the watering place of a washerman—misfortune abides there.

The morning sun, smoke from a corpse, an old woman, fresh curd, / and the dust from a broom—one desiring long life should not resort to these.

The dust from elephants, horses, chariots, grain, and cows is auspicious; / and one should know that dust from donkeys, camels, goats, and sheep is inauspicious.

The dust of cows, the dust of grain, and the dust from a son's limbs— / this dust is highly praised and destroys grave sins.

The dust of goats, the dust of donkeys, and that which is the dust of a broom— / this dust causes great demerit and brings about great sin.

The wind from a winnowing fan, water dripping from fingernails, water from wiping oneself with bath clothes, / water from the hair, and dust from a broom destroy merit accumulated in the past.

Between two brāhmaṇas, between a brāhmaṇa and a sacred fire, between a husband and wife, between two masters, / and between a horse and a bull, one should not walk.

Toward women, kings, fire, snakes, private Vedic recitation, serving an enemy, / and the taste of pleasures—what wise person would place trust?

One should not trust the untrustworthy, nor should one place excessive trust even in the trusted; / fear that arises from trust cuts one down even from the roots.

If someone, having made peace with an enemy, rests with confidence, / he is indeed like one who fell asleep at the treetop and wakes up only when he has fallen.

One should not be excessively mild, nor excessively cruel in action; / one destroys the mild with mildness alone, and the harsh with harshness alone.

One should not be overly straight, nor should one be excessively soft; / for straight trees are cut down there, while the crooked ones remain standing.

Fruit-bearing trees bow down, virtuous people bow down; / dry trees and fools break, but never bow down.

Just as unsought sorrows come and go, / so a person should seize those who make requests, like a cat [pouncing on prey].

Abundant fortunes always follow before and after a noble person; / with an ignoble person it is the reverse; act as you wish.

A counsel known to six ears is broken, and one known to four ears is preserved; / but of a counsel known to two ears, even Brahmā does not know the end.

What is to be done with that cow who yields no milk and is not pregnant? / What is the use of a son being born who is neither learned nor virtuous?

By even a single good son, possessed of learning and intelligent, / a family [is adorned]—by that lion among men, as the sky is by the moon.

By even a single fine tree, blossoming and fragrant, / the entire forest is made sweet-scented, just as a family is by a good son.

Indeed, one virtuous son is enough; what is the use of a hundred devoid of virtues? / A single moon destroys the darkness, and not a thousand stars.

One should pamper [a son] for five years, and discipline him for ten years; / but when he has reached the sixteenth year, one should treat one's son like a friend.

Being born, he may take away the wife; growing up, he may take away wealth; / dying, he may take away life: there is no enemy equal to a son.

Some are tigers with deer-faces, some are deer with tiger-faces; / since their true nature is unknown, there is suspicion at every step.

There is only one fault of the forgiving, and a second does not exist: / that people consider one endowed with forgiveness to be powerless.

One should acknowledge just this: sensual pleasures are momentary and fleeting; / and the thoughts of a clever person toward dear ones are truly undisturbed.

The eldest brother is equal to a father when the father is dead, O Śaunaka; / indeed, he should be the father to all, the protector of all.

And he should conduct himself with impartiality toward all his younger [brothers], / who live sharing common enjoyments, just as toward his own sons.

A combination even of many things of little substance is indeed formidable: / a rope is woven of grass-blades, and by it even an elephant is tied.

The person who gives gifts after seizing another's property— / that giver goes to hell, while the fruit [of the gift] belongs to the one whose wealth it was.

By destroying the property of the gods, by taking the property of a brāhmaṇa, / and by transgressing against a brāhmaṇa, families decline into non-family status.

For a killer of a brāhmaṇa, a drinker of liquor, a thief, and one who has broken a religious observance, / an expiation has been prescribed by the virtuous; but there is no expiation for an ungrateful person.

The ancestors and gods do not eat [the offerings] of a base man, of the husband of a śūdra woman, / of one subdued by his wife, and of him in whose house there is a paramour.

Know these four to be outcasts: the ungrateful, the ignoble, / the long-resentful, and the crooked; the fifth is one born so by birth.

An enemy, though small, must not be ignored with contempt, O evil-minded one; / a fire, though small, if unrestrained, reduces the whole world to ashes.

He who is tranquil in his youth is truly tranquil, so I think; / when the bodily elements are decaying, in whom does tranquility not arise?

Like public roads, O best of brāhmaṇas, riches are common to all; / thinking 'they are mine,' one should indeed not become filled with pride.

The body depends on the mind and is subject to the bodily elements; when the mind is destroyed, the elements perish; / therefore the mind must always be protected; when the mind is healthy, the elements thrive.

Thus ends the one hundred and fourteenth chapter, in the Bṛhannītisāra of the Ācārakāṇḍa, belonging to the first part of the first section in the glorious Garuḍa Mahāpurāṇa.