A serene pool of water stood surrounded on its margin by a grassy edge, centered in a clearing of the forest of Dwaitavana. The surface of the pool lay still, with not even a breeze ruffling its surface. The clear, sapphire waters reflected the sky above. A few snowy-white cranes flew overhead, their cries echoing across the pool's surface.
Not far from this tranquil scene, the five famed Pandava brothers chased the trail of an extraordinarily large deer who had stolen from a brahmin. However, this deer was as swift as it was large, and it was not long before the Pandavas lost sight of its tracks.
It was at this point in time, fatigued and parched beyond measure, that the eldest brother, Yudhistira, ordered the youngest brother, Nakula, to climb a tree in the hopes of sighting water nearby.
Fate would have it that the water which Nakula spotted was in fact the sapphire pond. Without hesitation, Nakula rushed to the spring ahead of his brothers.
Upon reaching the pond, Nakula heard a deep voice resonate seemingly from a crane standing along the far edge. "Stop! Do not touch my waters until you have satisfied me with answers to my queries. Obly then may you drink as you wish."
Intent only on slaking his thirst, Nakula ignored the admonition and proceeded to drink. Immediately upon the clear drops wetting his lips, he collapsed, dead.
Curious about their brother's delay, the Pandavas next sent Sahadeva to the pond. Again, the warning sounded, and again it was ignored as Sahadeva bent to drink. Another Pandava fell dead.
In turn, Arjuna and Bhima, too, fell victim to the accursed waters. By the time Yudhistira arrived at the tranquil pond, its serene shores were decorated with the cold bodies of his five siblings. Yudhistira sank to his knees under the weight of his sorrow.
Yet even in his grief, Yudhistira noted that his brothers bore no injury, no wounds to account for their lifelessness. Knowing some divine power must be responsible for their deaths, Yudhistira decided to act with caution as he entered the sapphire waters to perform the rites of the dead.
"Do not act rashly! These waters are mine; only answer my questions and you may slake your thirst. Heed my warning or become the fifth Pandava to die here today."
As the echoes of this message echoed into the surrounding trees, Yudhistira posed a question of his own. "Who are you, who have vanquished my invincible brothers? I bow to you, but implore that you explain to me your person and your purpose."
The snow-white crane standing opposite--until now still--transformed into a tall, shadowy, and imposing figure. "I am a yaksha. Answer my queries and unlike your brothers you shall live."
And so began a grueling test consisting of a continuous stream of questions at times as deceiving as the tranquility of the pond itself. Some questions were fatuous and shallow, but most were profound, delving deep into the obscurities and significance of life and philosophy and religion.
As he answered the yaksha's queries cautiously but hastily, Yudhistira noticed an unusual lotus bud on the surface of the pond before the yaksha. With each question Yudhistira answered correctly, a petal on the lotus bed unfurled. One by one, the glowing violet color of the flower was revealed. . . And as the last few questions were answered, the final petals opened to reveal the golden heart of the lotus. The light emanating from the flower was so bright, Yudhistira was forced to look away, eyes squinting.
"Your answers have pleased me, as has your humility and judiciousness. Let all your brothers rise, that you may go forth unrecognized through your last year of exile."
The yaksha's voice boomed forth, and as it faded so did the glowing of the lotus. When the last of the light disappeared from those rosy petals, a similar glow shone once more on the cheeks of the four fallen brothers. Thus it was that Yudhistira's humility to the disguised Yama saved the Pandavas from certain death in the twelfth year of their banishment.
Author's Note. So for some reason, this week I had a lot of trouble writing a story. I don't know if it's just how exhausted I am, whether I'm out of creative juices, or whether I just couldn't find a story I enjoyed enough to retell, but this week's assignment took me much longer than it should have. In any case, I decided to retell the story of the Hundred Questions, emphasizing more the deceptive tranquility of the scenery and the deceptive nature of the questions even in their straightforwardness. I also added in the image of the lotus, as I thought that the entire scene lacked the beautiful imagery that I so adore. Anyways, I hoped you enjoyed my retelling! Hasta luego!!
Bibliography. Narayan, R.K. (1978). The Mahabharata.
Image Information. Photograph of a nymphaea caerulea lotus. Posted by razabar. Pixabay.
Hi Jessica! I was really surprised to read your author’s note—I never would have been able to tell that you had difficulty with the assignment! You have a gift for prose and also details that add more much richness to your story. It can be hard to find a balance between making the story come alive and having readers wade through the bog of unnecessary words—you’ve found a perfect balance of being detailed yet concise. I really liked the details of the crane and the lotus. It just made the story more special, and I wish the original writers had thought of adding the lotus! Great job!
ReplyDeleteJessica, I totally feel you on trying to retell a story. I think it's hard to figure out what to write about sometimes but I like what you came up with. It was fun to read and I wasn't bored. I think your concept was cool and fun to write about. I love flowers and your picture put a smile on my face. Good job!
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