Skandapurana 4.5

Parāśara said:

Then, having beheld the Lord of the Universe in meditation, that prince among sages,

the son of Mitra and Varuṇa, spoke these words to the virtuous Lopāmudrā:

"Ah, look, fair-hipped woman, what has befallen us!

Where is that task, and where are we who follow the path of sages?

By whom, the smiter of mountains, mountains were effortlessly stripped of their wings—

how could his power be blunted against a mere mountain?

He in whose courtyard is the wish-fulfilling tree, whose weapon is the thunderbolt,

and at whose door wait the eight perfections—should he plead with a twice-born for success?

Alas, my dear, mountains are thrown into turmoil by forest fire;

where has that power of fire to check its growth now gone?

He who is the restrainer of all beings, the lord who wields the rod of punishment—

is he unable to chastise that single, solitary rock?

The Ādityas, the Vasus, the Rudras, the Tuṣitas along with the hosts of Maruts,

the Viśvedevas, likewise the two Aśvins, and whatever other dwellers of heaven there are,

at whose mere glance even worlds fall down—

are they not capable, beloved, of checking the growth of a mountain?

That reason is understood, and remembered is that well-spoken saying

sung with reference to Kāśī by the sages who see the truth:

'Avimukta is never to be abandoned by those who desire liberation;

yet obstacles will surely arise for good people living in Kāśī.'

O auspicious woman, that great obstacle has now presented itself here;

it cannot be altered, because the Lord of the Universe has turned his face away.

Ah, what seeker of liberation, or even non-seeker, having attained Kāśī through the blessings of brahmins,

would drop the delightful morsel held in his hand to lick his own elbow, foolish in mind?

Alas, why should people like children abandon this Kāśī, a single heap of merits?

Can an edible lotus root be gathered at every plunge? Is she so easily obtained?

Having understood Kāśī, a heap of merits gathered through other lives, through great hardships,

why do dull-witted people, even after reaching it, wish to go elsewhere, eager to rush into misfortune?

Where is Kāśikā, revealer of the supreme state, and where is any other undertaking, full of misery on all sides?

Why then should a learned man go elsewhere? Does a pumpkin fruit enter a goat's mouth?

Why should a man, alas soon to perish, abandon Kāśī, the radiant one, who produces a heap of merit?

Surely, his own merit has diminished; thus my heart explains it.

Unless a man is diseased, he will not strive to depart elsewhere,

leaving behind Kāśī, the helper of every living being, imperishable, a single mass of good deeds, and none other.

From which sins flee in terror, hard to reach even for the gods, where the Gaṅgā ever flows, which cuts through the curse and snare of worldly existence,

auspicious, never abandoned by Śiva, the unique oyster shell for the pearl of immortality—only those whose liberation has been exhausted abandon it!

Ah, are they laden with sins, who, having obtained Kāśī with an immense load of exertion,

which can only be bought with the commodity of abundant merit, abandon it and prepare to go elsewhere?

Ah, the dullness of people whose mind, abandoning Kāśī, goes elsewhere—

delightful with glittering waters of the Gaṅgā, and held on the tip of the trident of Cupid's foe even during the dissolution!

O, people have fallen into the middle of the ocean in worldly existence filled with waters of sorrow, into sin;

for what reason do they abandon the boat that is Kāśī, which puts to flight the sins that oppose them?

Not by the good path, nor by the application of yoga, nor by gifts, nor by fierce austerities

is Kāśī easily obtained, but through the blessings of brahmins, or through the grace of the Lord of the Universe.

Righteousness is indeed borne along by masses of riches, and wealth by desires through many gifts and enjoyments;

everything else is everywhere, but that sole liberation is in Kāśī, and nowhere else as it is here.

No other sacred field is holy as Avimukta is, as proclaimed by the Vedas,

nor by the Dharmaśāstras, nor by the Purāṇas; therefore Avimukta is ever a refuge.

"He said this," so declared Jābāli: "The Asi is considered the Iḍā,

the Varaṇā is the Piṅgalā channel, and within them is Avimukta.

That supreme channel is the Suṣumṇā; this triad is Vārāṇasī.

Therefore, at the departure of the vital breath of all creatures here, Hara,

whispering into the ear, reveals the saving Brahman, by which they truly become Brahman."

Such is this verse, as those who expound the Veda declare:

"At the time of death, the Lord, by imparting the saving formula

to living beings dwelling in Avimukta, liberates them—there is no doubt about this.

There is no sacred field equal to Avimukta, no goal equal to Avimukta,

no liṅga equal to Avimukta; true, true, again and again!"

Abandoning Avimukta, whoever delights elsewhere,

lets liberation slip from the palm of his hand to search for some other perfection.

Having thus fully ascertained the power of the sacred field from the Vedas and Purāṇas— / that there is no liṅga equal to Viśvanātha, and no city equal to Kāśī among thirty million—

[the sage determined this in his heart].

Then, bowing to Kālarāja, that best of great sages petitioned him:

“I have come here to take my leave, for you are the master of the city of Kāśī.

Alas, O Kālarāja, do I not worship every spirit here on every eighth day, / on every Tuesday and Sunday, with roots, fruits, and flowers?

Why then should you look for fault in me, who am guiltless?

Alas, O Kālabhairava! Stretching out your hand and calling, ‘Do not fear!’ to those afflicted with dread all around,

assuming a formidable form that consumes bitter sins, do you not protect the people dwelling in Vārāṇasī?

O king of the yakṣas, of lovely moon-like form, leader of the sons of Pūrṇabhadra, Dandapāṇi!

You indeed know all the suffering born of austerity; why do you banish me, O protector of the inhabitants of Kāśī?

You are the giver of food, you are indeed the giver of life; you are the giver of knowledge, and you are indeed the giver of liberation.

You arrange the final adornment of mortals with masses of matted locks and necklaces of serpent kings.

Your two gaṇas, Sambhrama and Udbhrama, skilled in investigating the conduct of those dwelling here,

produce great delusion and cast the wicked far from this sacred field in an instant.

Listen, O lord Ḍhuṇḍhivināyaka, to my voice, as I lament like one bereft!

All multitudes of obstacles abide in you; have I behaved here like one of wicked conduct?

May these five Vināyakas listen: Cintāmaṇi and the one named Kapardin,

and the two Vināyakas called the Āśāgajas, and may Siddhivināyaka listen!

I have spoken no slander of others, nor have I caused harm to others.

I have not coveted another's wealth or another's wife. What ripening of karma is this?

The Gaṅgā was attended by me at the three junctures of the day, and glorious Viśvanātha was constantly beheld;

pilgrimages were undertaken on every sacred occasion everywhere. What ripening of karma is this that causes me obstacle?

O Mother Viśālākṣī, Bhavānī, auspicious one, beautiful dispenser of good fortune, Jyeṣṭheśī!

O ordainer of all, all-armed one, obeisance to you, O glorious Citraghaṇṭā, formidable little Durgā!

Let these witness deities of Kāśī listen: I depart not for my own purpose.

Entreated by the hosts of gods, what can I do? What is not undertaken for the welfare of others?

Did not Dadhīci give his bones of old? Did not Bali give the three worlds to a petitioner?

Did not Madhu and Kaiṭabha give their heads, and did not Garuḍa become the mount of Viṣṇu?

Taking leave of all the sages and the supreme sages, as well as the young and the old dwelling there,

the grasses, the trees, and all the creepers, he circumambulated the city and went forth.

Even of a traveler, or of one traveling by a low path,

who beholds the moon-crested [Lord] upon departing, whose perfection here would not shine forth?

“Better indeed are the grasses, trees, and shrubs in Kāśī; they commit no sin, nor do they go elsewhere.

Fie upon us, foremost among moving beings, who leave Vārāṇasī today and go!”

Sipping the water of the Asi again and again, the sage, gazing all around at the rows of temples,

said: “O straight eyes, look upon Kāśī! Where is there any city like this, alas?

Let them clap their hands and laugh freely today, holding hand in hand with one another—

those hosts of spirits wandering the boundaries—for I am departing, leaving Kāśī, the sole heap of merit!”

Having lamented thus in many ways, that sage Agastya, accompanied by his wife like that pair of krauñca birds, alas,

fell into a deep swoon, babbling in his separation: “O Kāśī, Kāśī! Return and grant me a glance!”

Pausing for a moment and saying “Śiva, Śiva, Śiva,” [he said:] “Let us go, beloved, for those dwellers in heaven are ruthless.

Do they not remember the three-eyed god, who is skilled in granting happiness to the three worlds, when they provoked him by sending Madana?”

As he walked three or four steps in grief, his forehead dotted with particles of sweat-drops,

thinking, “Surely my destruction will occur because I failed to go out to meet him,” the earth shrank as if out of fear of a boon.

Mounting, as it were, the chariot of austerity, in half a twinkling of an eye the sage

saw before him the towering Vindhya, blocking the sky.

And the mountain trembled swiftly upon seeing the sage standing before him,

that Agastya with his wife, the enemy of Vātāpi and Ilvala,

blazing fiercely like the fire of cosmic dissolution with three fires:

those born of austerity, of wrath, and of separation from Kāśī.

Becoming very dwarfish, as though wishing to enter into the earth,

the mountain said: “Grant me your command and favor; I am your servant.”

Agastya said:

“O Vindhya, you are virtuous and wise, and you know me in truth.

Until my return, remain thus dwarfish.”

Having spoken thus, that store of austerities, the sage, endowed the southern quarter with a protector

by his footsteps, together with that virtuous lady.

When that best of sages had departed, the mountain, trembling at that time,

looked as if longing, [thinking,] 'If he has gone, then it is well.

Today I have been born anew, since I was not cursed by Agastya.

There is no one blessed like me'—so the mountain considered.

And at that time, Aruṇa, knowing the proper time, drove his horses.

The world attained great peace, as before, through the movements of the sun.

'Today, or tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow, the sage will surely return'—

thus the mountain remained as if weighed down by a great burden of anxiety.

Even today the sage does not return; even today the mountain does not grow,

just like the wish-tree of wicked people.

Whatever base person desires to grow, harboring malice toward others—

far off be any talk of his growth; even his prior growth becomes doubtful.

The desires [of the wicked] are never fulfilled; and if fulfilled, they are surely destroyed.

Because of that [failure] of the wicked, the universe protected by the Lord of the Universe prospers.

Just as the breasts of widows melt away on their very chests,

rising and rising high there, so do the desires of the wicked.

Just as a small river may overflow its banks with slight rain,

so the prosperity of a villain, by slight rain [of fortune], erodes his own family.

Without knowing another's strength, one who displays one's own power

incurs ridicule, exactly as did this mountain here.

Vyāsa said:

Even while wandering along the pleasant banks of the Godāvarī, the sage

did not give up that supreme torment born of separation from Kāśī.

Even to the wind that touched the northern quarter, that sage,

stretching forth his arms and embracing it, would inquire after Kāśī's welfare:

'O Lopāmudrā, nowhere on the surface of the earth is there any seal

comparable to Vārāṇasī, since the Creator is not its maker.'

Standing somewhere, babbling somewhere, running somewhere, stumbling somewhere,

and sitting down somewhere, the sage thus wandered about here and there.

Then, as he walked on, that treasury of austerity, a heap of merit, saw ahead of him,

like a fortunate man [beholding] splendid fortune, [a goddess] radiant with the shimmering light of the moon,

who surpassed the non-brilliant sun and rose even during the day,

as if extinguishing the continuous anguish of his own heart.

There Agastya beheld Mahālakṣmī, who had resided [there] for a very long time.

[Thinking,] 'At night there is contraction in lotuses; on new-moon days, where could the lotus go?

In the Ocean of Milk there is fear of Mount Mandara,' she dwelt here on that account, as it were;

or indeed, from the time Mādhava held her respectfully [upon his chest],

from that time she dwelt [there], surely as if out of jealousy of a co-wife;

having slain the great asura who was terrifying the three worlds in the form of a boar,

she was stationed there in that charming city of Kolāpura.

Having then approached Mahālakṣmī and bowed down, the best of sages,

delighted in mind, praised the grantor of desires with pleasing words.

Agastya said:

"O Mother Kamalā, with eyes long as lotus petals, dweller in the heart-lotus of Śrī Viṣṇu, Mother of the universe, I bow to you!

Born from the Ocean of Milk, fair as the tender womb of a lotus, O Lakṣmī, refuge of those who bow down, be ever pleased!

You are the fortune in Upendra's dwelling, the sole mother of Madana, the moonlight in the moon, your face lovely as the moon. / You are the light in the sun, and you shine in the three worlds. O Lakṣmī, refuge of those who bow down, be ever pleased!

In fire you are ever the power whose nature is burning; through you the Creator creates this manifold world.

Even the Supporter of the universe sustains everything through you. O Lakṣmī, refuge of those who bow down, be ever pleased!

Abandoned by you, O pure one, even Hara destroys this [world]; you protect, you destroy, you create, you are the highest and the lowest.

Even Hari became praiseworthy, O spotless one, by attaining you. O Lakṣmī, refuge of those who bow down, be ever pleased!

He alone is heroic, he alone possesses virtues, he is wise, fortunate, and venerable through heaps of lineage, conduct, and arts,

he alone is pure among men in the entire world, upon whom falls your compassionate side-glance, O auspicious one!

Upon whatever great man, elephant, horse, woman, blade of grass, lake, temple, house, food,

gem, bird, beast, bed, or ground you may dwell for even a moment—that entire thing alone has fortune here, not any other.

Whatever is touched by you alone attains purity; whatever is abandoned by you is indeed impure here, O Lakṣmī!

And wherever your name is, right there is great auspiciousness, O wife of Śrī Viṣṇu, O Kamalā, O dweller in the lotus!

For those who constantly recite: 'Lakṣmī, Śrī, Kamalā, Kamalālayā, Padmā, Ramā, holder of a pair of lotuses in her hands, Mā, / born of the Ocean of Milk, holding an ambrosia-jar in her hand, Irā, beloved of Viṣṇu'—where is there sorrow?"

Having thus praised the goddess Mahālakṣmī, beloved of Hari,

the sage, together with his wife, bowed down with eight limbs [prostrate] like a staff.

Śrī said:

"Rise, rise, blessings be to you, O son of Mitra and Varuṇa!

Rise, faithful wife, Lopāmudrā of auspicious vows!

I am pleased by this hymn of praise; choose what is desired in your heart.

O princess, fortunate one, pure lady, sit down here!

By these bodily marks of yours and by your exceedingly pure observances,

I wish to soothe my body, scorched by the weapons of Daityas."

Having spoken thus and embraced that sage's wife, the beloved of Hari

affectionately adorned her with many auspicious ornaments.

She spoke again: "O sage, I know the cause of your heartache.

The fire born of separation from Kāśī torments the conscious mind indeed.

When that god Viśveśa went to Mount Mandara in ancient times,

such a state arose for him as well, because of separation from Kāśī.

Then, to find news of it, Brahmā, Keśava, the gaṇas,

Gaṇeśvara, and the gods were dispatched by the wielder of the trident.

And contemplating the virtues of Kāśī again and again,

none of them return even today—where indeed is there a city like it?

Hearing this, that fortunate sage then replied

to Śrī, having prostrated, with these words filled with devotion:

"If a boon is to be granted to me, if I am worthy of a boon,

then let this be my boon: may I reach Vārāṇasī once again.

And for those who will always recite with devotion to you this hymn composed by me,

may there never be anguish; let there never be poverty!