12.172
Yudhiṣṭhira said.
By what conduct should a wise and sorrowless person live in the world? And by doing what does a man attain the highest goal?
Bhīṣma said.
Here too, they recount this ancient story, the dialogue between Prahlāda, the sage, and the python.
O king, Prahlāda, wise and esteemed by the learned, asked a certain brāhmaṇa who was wandering, of auspicious mind and free from illness.
You are self-possessed, capable, gentle, self-restrained, free from desire to harm or envy, well-spoken, highly esteemed in the world, and wise, yet you conduct yourself with the innocence of a child.
O Brāhmaṇa, you neither seek gain nor grieve over loss; always content, you seem not to despise anything.
Though people are being swept away by the current, you appear as if undisturbed; in matters of righteousness, desire, wealth, and action, you seem steadfast and unshaken.
You neither follow dharma and artha nor pursue desires; disregarding sense-objects, you move about liberated, like a witness.
O sage, what truly is wisdom, what is learning, or what is conduct, and what do you consider to be yours? O Brāhmaṇa, quickly tell me what you consider here to be the highest good.
Thus addressed, the wise one, knower of the ordinances of worldly conduct, spoke to Prahlāda with gentle and unharsh words.
O Prahrada, seeing the origin, decline, growth, and destruction of beings as causeless, I neither rejoice nor am I disturbed.
Indeed, seeing that all activities arise from inherent nature and everyone acts according to their own nature, I am not troubled by anyone.
O Prahlada, seeing that all unions end in separation and all accumulations end in destruction, I never set my mind on any of them.
All beings that are seen to be endowed with qualities are perishable; for one who knows the origin and destruction, what duty remains to be done?
I observe, in turn, the end of even the water-born beings. In the great ocean, I see the end of even the bodies of the great and the subtle ones.
O lord of the Asuras, I see manifest death everywhere among moving and unmoving beings, and also among kings.
O best of Dānavas, even among birds and those who move in the sky, death arises for the strong at the proper time.
I observe in the sky both small and great lights moving about, and also lights falling according to time.
Thus, seeing all beings bound by death, the wise person who has fulfilled his duties sleeps happily.
Even if I obtain a very large morsel by chance and swallow it, I may lie down again for many days without eating.
Even if my food is abundant and of many qualities, or little and of few qualities, again, none of these are suitable for me.
Sometimes I eat grains, and I also swallow oil-cake; I consume rice, meat, and various other foods again.
Sometimes I sleep on a couch, sometimes again on the ground. Occasionally, my bed is found even in a palace.
At one time, I wear bark garments, hemp cloth, linen and deer skins, and also very costly garments.
I do not refuse righteous enjoyment that has not been accumulated by chance, nor do I desire this, which is very difficult to obtain.
I practice this pure, python-like vow, which is immovable, imperishable, auspicious, and free from sorrow; it is pure, incomparable, and established in the opinion of the wise. It is not desired or practiced by the deluded.
With a steady mind, unwavering and firm in my own duty, moving little, knowing the higher and lower, free from fear, impurity, greed, and delusion, I practice this pure vow of the python.
I practice this pure python-like vow, in which the food and drink are not fixed, divided by rule, result, place, and time, and happiness of heart is not enjoyed by the miserly.
Seeing people overpowered by thirst, despairing for wealth they have not obtained, I, having observed this with true understanding, purely practice this python-like vow.
Having seen the many kinds of conduct here, both noble and ignoble, resorted to for the sake of gain and found to be miserable, I, being self-controlled, calm, and inclined to tranquility, purely practice this vow of the python.
Recognizing happiness and unhappiness, misfortune and gain, pleasure and displeasure, death and life as truly ordained by fate, I, remaining pure, observe this python vow.
Having given up fear, attachment, delusion, and pride, and being endowed with steadfastness, intellect, and wisdom, calm, having observed those who enjoy whatever comes to them, I, pure, practice this vow of the python.
By nature, I do not have fixed places for sleeping or sitting; I am endowed with restraint, discipline, vows, truthfulness, and purity. I have abandoned the accumulation of fruits, and am delighted; I practice this pure, python-like vow.
Having come here not for pleasure or objects, with my mind fixed and established in the self, having observed, I undertake this pure vow of the python to restrain my thirsty and uncontrolled mind.
Neither my heart nor my mind is attached; recognizing both the difficulty of attaining dear happiness and its impermanence, I, remaining pure, practice this vow of the python (i.e., a life of inactivity) as my way of life.
Much of this has already been spoken by the wise, by poets proclaiming their own fame. "This, this," thus here and there, that, with their own and others' views, the profound subject is discussed.
Therefore, having carefully observed those who have departed and the various ways attained here by ignorant men, seeing that the end is not ascertained and that the limit is endless faults, I dwell among men with anger and desire subdued.
Bhīṣma said.
A great soul who, here, follows the vow of the python's conduct, with passions subdued and free from fear, anger, greed, and delusion, truly lives happily in this world.
