Skandapurana 2.7.15

Śrutadeva said:

Listen again, O king, to the sin-destroying māhātmya

of the month of Vaiśākha, dear to the enemy of Madhu.

Formerly, in the land of Pāñcāla, there was a king named Puruyaśas,

the son of Bhūriyaśas, of meritorious character and wise.

When his father passed away, O king, he was established on the throne, eager for righteousness,

endowed with the virtues of valor and generosity, skilled in the science of archery.

The highly intelligent one ruled the entire earth according to his own duty.

Encompassed by a great fault due to withholding water in a previous life,

he suffered loss of prosperity after some time, O sinless one.

His horses and elephants died, afflicted by a great disease;

and there occurred an incomparable famine that depopulated [the realm].

His kingdom and treasury then became like a wood-apple eaten by an elephant.

Knowing the king to be powerless, stripped of treasury and realm,

with their minds resolved, “This is the time to conquer him!”

kings by the hundreds, enemies of that sovereign, arrived.

They conquered in battle that king, the lord of the Pāñcāla realm.

Defeated then, the king entered a mountain cave

together with his wife Śikhinī and accompanied by his retinue of nurses and others.

His trail unknown to others, confounded by much sorrow,

fifty-three years were spent by him living in hiding.

The king reflected repeatedly: “What is this?

I am pure in birth through deeds, devoted to the welfare of my mother and father;

Devoted to my preceptor, ever courteous, respectful toward brahmins, devoted to righteousness,

Compassionate toward all beings, devoted to the gods, with my senses subdued;

I have no brother, no son, and no beneficial friends.

Though born of noble lineage and famed for compassion and prowess, whence [comes this fate] to me?

Or by what deed has poverty, inflicting immense sorrow, been attained?

Or by what deed is my defeat today? Or by what deed is this dwelling in the forest?

Agitated with such anxiety, the distressed king remembered his preceptors,

Named Yāja and Upayāja, omniscient, best among sages.

Those two noble-minded sovereign sages, summoned by the king, arrived.

Seeing the two, the king, the lord of Pañcāla, suddenly rose up,

Bowed his head in devotion, deeply afflicted by his exile,

Stripped of the royal insignia, his whereabouts unknown to anyone.

Having fallen at their feet upon the ground, he indeed remained silent for a moment.

Raised up by both of them with their arms, his tearful eyes wiped,

He worshiped them according to the rules with auspicious offerings of forest produce alone.

Then, when those two brahmins were comfortably seated, he asked with bent neck:

“O two brahmins, speak of the cause of the lord of the earth's sorrow!

For one pure by birth and action, beloved of ancestors and gods,

Afraid of sin, compassionate, and devoted to preceptors—whence unto me

Poverty, loss of the treasury, and defeat by enemies?

Why dwelling in the wilderness, and whence this solitude of mine?

I have no son, no brother, and no well-wishing friends.

Or whence was there famine in the blameless land ruled by me?

Explain this to me at length, its cause, O foremost of sages!”

Addressed thus by the king who was exceedingly miserable,

Those two great-souled ones, devoted for a moment to meditation, replied.

Yāja and Upayāja said:

“Listen, O king! We two shall declare the cause of your sorrow.

Formerly, O king, for ten births, you were a great sinner, a hunter,

Cruel to all people, ever intent on violence,

Never performing the slightest particle of righteousness, possessing neither self-restraint nor peace of mind.

Your tongue never spoke the names of Viṣṇu in any way,

[Nor did] your mind remember the pair of lotus feet of Govinda.

No bow of the head was ever made to the Supreme Self.

Nine births of yours passed in this manner, O wicked-minded king.

When the tenth birth arrived, you were a hunter on Mount Sahya,

Cruel to all folk, a destroyer of men among men,

Devoid of compassion, living by weapons, ever intent on violence,

Devoid of virtue, a rogue inflicting suffering along the roads, a terror to all.

Unto the subjects of the Gauḍa country, [you were] a man-eating rākṣasa.

In this way, years passed for you, ignorant of your own good.

Because of your slaughter of infant young, of beasts, and of birds,

Childlessness has come in this birth to you, pitiless and wicked-minded.

Because of treachery, you have no uterine brothers.

Because of molesting people on the road, you are abandoned by friends.

Because of your contempt toward good men, your defeat was brought about by enemies.

Because of the fault of never giving gifts, poverty has fallen upon your household.

Because of constantly causing distress to others, your exile is difficult to endure.

And because of being disagreeable to all, your sorrow is utterly unbearable.

Because previously you were deprived of food through your constantly cruel deeds,

Therefore your kingdom has been taken away in this birth, O wise one.

Now I shall tell the reasons for your birth into a noble family.

When you were born in the Gauḍa land in that final birth as a hunter,

Devoted to your own cruel pursuit in the forest entangled with thorns,

While you were thus standing on the road, devoid of compassion, the destroyer of all beings,

Two splendid, wealthy vaiśyas, distressed by the heat, arrived,

And a sage named Karṣaṇa, a master of the Vedas and Vedāṅgas,

Wearing matted hair and bark garments, holy, holding a water-pot.

Seeing them, you took your bow, blocked the path, and stood firm.

Pursuing them, you, armed with arrows, cut the bodies of the two vaiśyas...

And killing one of the two, you seized all his wealth.

When you prepared to kill the other, he fled swiftly out of fear,

throwing down his money into a thicket, terrified, desperate to save his life.

Even the sage Karṣaṇa [ran] quickly, fearing death at the hands of the hunter;

running in the scorching sun, afflicted by thirst and heat,

he fell into a swoon, sweat dripping, retaining only a glimmer of consciousness.

Leaving him behind, the merchant ran on, intent solely on saving his life.

Seeing both of them flee, and the earthly god [the brahmin] swooned on the path,

thinking: 'Where was the money thrown down? How far did the merchant go?'—

intent on questioning him, you set about reviving the exhausted brahmin.

Blowing dry ginger into his ears to restore his memory,

and with water from a puddle, filled with worms and mud,

wiping the exhausted man's eyes and fanning his face with leaves,

bringing the sage back to consciousness, your mind eased, you said:

'Sage, have no fear of me bearing weapons in the forest.

A destitute man is happy in this world; whence can come terrible fear for you?

From a broken, worn-out bowl nothing can happen to me.

Tell me only this, wise one: where did the merchant flee?

Into which bush was the wealth thrown by him as he quickly fled?

Otherwise I will kill you, if you speak falsely.'

Karṣaṇa said:

'The wealth was thrown into the thicket; he fled from this path.'

Thus questioned, he too spoke out of fear, desiring to save his life.

[You said:] 'Go safely along the path, brahmin, casting aside fear of me.

Not far from here, there is good water in a pond;

having drunk that holy water, your fatigue gone, go to the village.

Even now the king’s men will come along the path,

intent on seeking my footsteps, having heard the merchant's cries.

Therefore, afflicted by thirst, it is not possible for me to accompany you, O twice-born one.

Fan yourself with this leaf; your heat will subside somewhat.'

Giving him a palāśa leaf, you returned once again to the forest.

By the power of that merit, performed in the scorched heat of Vaiśākha,

though done for your own purpose in rescuing the sage on the path,

your birth took place in a most holy, vast royal lineage.

If you desire happiness, kingship, and riches such as wealth and grain,

or heaven and liberation, or absorption into the abode of Hari,

perform the religious duties of Vaiśākha; you will attain all happiness.

This month is indeed called Mādhava, and the third day is named Akṣayā.

Give a cow that has calved once to a distressed brahmin;

thereby your treasury will become full; give a bed, and happiness will arise.

Give an umbrella, and sovereignty will be yours;

perform ritual ablutions according to rule, and worship Mādhava likewise.

Having made a divine image, bestow it; thereby victory will be yours.

If you desire sons endowed with virtues equal to your own, O king,

then set up water-stations for the welfare of all beings.

Carefully practice these duties prescribed for Vaiśākha, O ruler of the earth;

thereby all the worlds will come under your control—there is no doubt.

If you perform these duties with a desireless mind

in this holy month of Vaiśākha, for the pleasure of the Slayer of Madhu,

Viṣṇu will become visible to you whose heart is purified.

By whichever man these auspicious duties are observed,

inexhaustible are their worlds, as the poets know from the Purāṇa.

All this has been told to you just as seen and heard.'

Having addressed the king thus, the two brahmin royal priests,

named Yāja and Upayāja, departed just as they had come.

Then the mighty king, having been instructed by the two priests,

performed all the duties of Vaiśākha, filled with faith,

and worshipped the Slayer of Madhu just as had been instructed.

Then, having regained his majesty and surrounded by all his kinsmen,

accompanied by the remnant of his army that had not been slain, he reached the city of the Pāñcālas.

Then, having heard of the king's,

namely his entry into the city, the enemy kings came again, arrogant.

Then a battle took place between the king of Pāñcāla and the kings;

the great-armed one alone, a great car-warrior, conquered them all.

When the kings fled along the roads to various regions,

the valiant [king] personally seized the kings' treasuries, elephants, and horses:

a hundred million horses, thirty million elephants,

a hundred million chariots, and ten thousand camels,

[and] three hundred thousand donkeys he brought to that city.

By the greatness of the Vaiśākha duties, in an instant, all the kings

became tributaries, their resolves broken, trampled underfoot.

And there was matchless abundance in the territories of Pāñcāla;

the kingdom came under a single umbrella by the grace of the slayer of Madhu.

He had five sons, endowed with the virtues of heroism and generosity:

Dhṛṣṭakīrti, Dhṛṣṭaketu, and Dhṛṣṭadyumna, and the others,

Vijaya and Citraketu, resembling Mayūradhvaja.

The subjects were devoted [to him], protected with righteousness;

by the power of Vaiśākha, conviction arose that very instant.

The ruler of the city of Pāñcāla performed those duties again,

with a desireless mind, for the pleasure of the slayer of Madhu.

Pleased by this righteousness, the blessed slayer of Madhu

became visible on the Akṣaya Tṛtīyā day.

Beholding him, astonished, the Supreme Self, the infallible Acyuta,

Nārāyaṇa, four-armed, holding the conch, discus, and mace,

the god wearing yellow garments, adorned with a garland of forest flowers,

accompanied by Lakṣmī and attended by followers, mounted on Garuḍa,

gazing upon that unbearable radiance, he immediately closed his eyes;

leaping up and falling down in joy, wandering like one intoxicated or mad,

all his limbs bristling with hair standing on end, his eyes filled with flowing tears,

he praised [him] with supreme devotion, with folded palms, bowed low to the ground.

Thus ends the fifteenth chapter, named 'The Description of the Attainment of Victory and the Destruction of Poverty by the Ruler of the Pāñcāla Country,' in the dialogue between Nārada and Ambarīṣa, in the Greatness of the Month of Vaiśākha, in the second section, the Vaiṣṇavakhaṇḍa, in the glorious Skanda Mahāpurāṇa, in the compilation of eighty-one thousand verses. 15.