Sṛñjaya and Suvarṇashṭhīvin

Sṛñjaya was a king who had a son named Suvarṇashṭhīvin, “the one who spits gold.” Everything that came out of the boy’s body was gold, by a vara (a boon) from Nārada. Thieves took the boy and killed him, and the gold was gone. Nārada then comforted the grieving king with the accounts of sixteen great kings who had also died, and at the end he brought the boy back to life.

The Mahābhārata tells this in the Droṇa Parva. Vyāsa tells it to Yudhishṭhira after the death of Abhimanyu, to ease Yudhishṭhira’s grief.

Sṛñjaya and the two ṛshis

Sṛñjaya, the son of a king of the Śaibyā line, had two great friends: the munis Parvata and Nārada. Once the two came to his house together. The king received them with full honour and hospitality, and they lived there in comfort.

One day the king’s daughter came before the group and bowed to her father. She had every good mark, she was more beautiful than anyone, and her restless eyes glanced sideways like a doe’s. Parvata saw her and, in his own mind, chose her as his wife. He made a saṅkalpa (a resolve) within himself but said nothing aloud. Nārada also saw the girl. He turned to the king and asked openly for her hand: “Sṛñjaya! If you wish for great good, give me this daughter of yours. I will take her as my wife.” The king was glad to give such a gift to the devarshi, and he agreed at once.

Parvata was furious. He turned on Nārada and said: “I saw this girl first. I formed my intention first. You knew I wanted her, and still you asked for her, and now you take her. Because of this, you will no longer be able to travel freely to the svarga-lokas (the worlds of svarga).”

Nārada answered just as sternly: “A marriage is not made by a thought alone. The saptapadī, the seven steps taken together, is what completes a wedding. Only then is the woman truly another man’s wife. You made no declaration and no formal svīkāra (acceptance). You had no rightful claim. Yet you have laid a śāpa (a curse) on me. So you too will not be able to reach the svarga-lokas without me as your companion.”

Both śāpas stood. The two ṛshis stayed bound to the earth, in Sṛñjaya’s house.

The birth of Suvarṇashṭhīvin

Sṛñjaya had no son and longed for one. The brāhmaṇas at his āśrama saw his true devotion and his service to brāhmaṇas. They went to Nārada and asked him to use his power of giving boons to grant the king a son. Nārada agreed. He told Sṛñjaya to ask for the kind of son he wished.

Sṛñjaya’s request was an unusual one: “Muni! By your grace, may I have a son from whose body gold will flow: from his waste, his tears, his saliva and his sweat. Grant me this.” Nārada said, “Tathāstu!” (“Let it be so!”), and the vara was given.

A son was born. From the moment of his birth the vara showed itself. Whatever left the child’s body, including his tears when he cried, came out as pure gold. For this reason the child was named Suvarṇashṭhīvin, “the golden spitter.”

As he grew, the gold kept flowing and filled the king’s treasury. Sṛñjaya had every building of his city rebuilt in gold: the palace, its outer walls, the forts and the houses of the brāhmaṇas. Every vessel, every piece of furniture and every tool in the royal household was made again from the endless gold that came from the child’s body.

The thieves and the child’s death

News spread of the wonderful child who made endless gold. A group of thieves met in secret and said: “This child is himself the mine. If we seize him and keep him, we will have all the gold we could ever want.” In the night they broke into the palace, took the boy by force, and carried him off to a forest.

The thieves had no wisdom. In the forest they could not agree how to take the gold out, and the foolish among them thought the gold was stored inside the child’s body like a treasury. They killed the child. They cut him open and searched his body, and found nothing. The moment Suvarṇashṭhīvin died, the vara left him. There was no gold anywhere in his body.

The thieves then quarrelled over who was to blame, and in that quarrel they killed one another. They went to the lowest naraka (hell).

Sṛñjaya’s grief and Nārada’s comfort

Sṛñjaya was crushed. He wept without end for his wonderful son. It was the grief of a man who had owned something found nowhere else in the world and had lost it to senseless violence.

Nārada appeared before him. He spoke with the gentle firmness of a teacher who will not let a student sink in self-pity. He said: “Sṛñjaya! Do not grieve. Even if you weep and faint for a year, a dead person does not come back to life. Give up this moha (attachment). You are a man of wisdom. I tell you, it is the living who are worth grieving for. The dead have gone to the places meant for them, and there is no calling them back.”

Then he said: “Let me tell you of the sixteen great kings, Marutta and the others. Each one was far greater than your son in dharma, jñāna (knowledge), vairāgya (detachment) and aiśvarya (power and wealth). They performed yajñas of unmatched grandeur and gave dāna (gifts) on a scale the world had never seen, and yet each one died. If even those great kings could not escape death, and your son performed no yajña, gave no great dāna and left no sons, why do you grieve so deeply?”

With this beginning, Nārada told the sixteen accounts. Each was a long and full telling of a great king’s virtues and magnificent dāna, and each ended with the same words: “He too departed. Do not grieve for your son, who did not match even a part of their puṇya (merit).”

When all sixteen had been told, Sṛñjaya was silent. Then he said: “I have heard all that you said. My grief is gone. What should I do now?” Nārada offered him a vara. Sṛñjaya asked for his son back. Nārada gave it at once. Suvarṇashṭhīvin stood before them, shining and beautiful like the son of Kubera, fully alive.

Vyāsa speaks to Yudhishṭhira

Vyāsa then applied this to Yudhishṭhira’s grief. Suvarṇashṭhīvin was brought back because he had not fulfilled the purpose of his life. He had performed no yajña, had won no pāda (firm footing), and had died before he had done anything. Nārada restored him as an act of grace, because his life had been cut short wrongly.

Abhimanyu was different. He had fulfilled his purpose completely. He had fought as a mahāvīra (a great warrior). He had killed thousands of the greatest warriors of his time, and he had destroyed eight thousand chariots, nine hundred elephants and two thousand princes. He died on the battlefield without turning back, which is the purest and most auspicious death for a kshatriya. Now he lives in the highest lokas, shining like the moon in his eternal form. He could not be brought back, and should not be.

Vyāsa ended: Yudhishṭhira’s grief was not right. Abhimanyu’s life was complete.

Sources

• Mahābhārata, Droṇa Parva, chapters 55 and 71