Śuka and Indra

A hunter’s poisoned arrow struck a great tree, and the tree began to wither. A parrot who lived in its hollow would not leave it. He stayed and starved with the tree, out of gratitude, because the tree had raised him. Indra came to test him in the form of a brāhmaṇa. Moved by the parrot’s answer, Indra poured amṛta (the drink of deathlessness) on the tree and made it whole. The parrot reached Indraloka.

The Mahābhārata tells this in the Anuśāsana Parva, chapter 5.

Yudhishṭhira’s question

Bhīshma had given many teachings on how to calm grief. Yudhishṭhira then asked a new question. He wanted to know the qualities of a person who is dayālu (compassionate) and svāmi-bhakta (loyal to the one who has given him shelter).

Bhīshma answered with a purātana itihāsa, an ancient history. It is a dialogue (saṃvāda) between a parrot and the great Indra himself.

The wounded tree

In the kingdom of Kāśī, a hunter set out from his village with a bow and an arrow smeared with poison. He went into the forest looking for a deer. He saw game nearby and, wanting meat, he let the arrow go. The arrow was one that nothing could stop, but it swerved from its mark and struck a great tree of the great forest instead. The tree was wounded by the poisoned arrow. Little by little it began to lose its leaves and fruit, and to dry up.

A parrot (śuka) had lived a long time in the tree’s hollow. He was tied to it by deep attachment (anubandha) and could not bear to leave. He stopped moving about and took no food. He grew thin, and his voice began to fail. Out of kṛtajñatā (gratitude) to the tree, this parrot, a dharmātmā, chose to wither together with it rather than leave it.

Indra saw a bird of such a udāra (generous) and dhairya-śālī (steady) nature. The bird bore happiness and sorrow alike, and his conduct seemed beyond that of ordinary creatures. Indra himself was struck with wonder.

Indra’s test

Indra thought that it was remarkable for a dvija (here, a bird), born in the animal creation, to have such an unthinkable measure of dayā-guṇa (the quality of compassion). Yet he thought that such feeling can in truth be found scattered among all beings, in every place and in every form.

Indra took the form of a man dressed as a brāhmaṇa. He came down to earth and spoke to the bird: “O best among birds! Through you as her child, Śukī, the daughter’s daughter of Daksha, has been blessed with fine offspring. Why do you still not leave this tree?”

The parrot knew through his tapas-born jñāna-dṛshṭi (the vision of wisdom that comes from tapas) that this was Indra himself. He bowed his head and welcomed him as Devarāja, king of the devas. Indra was pleased by the bird’s divine sight and quietly held him in high regard.

Even though he knew how deep the parrot’s love for the tree was, Indra, who had once slain Bala, pushed further. He asked why the bird still served a tree whose leaves had fallen and whose fruit had dropped, which had dried up and could no longer be lived in. The great forest was full of other fine trees with leaf-covered hollows, pleasant and auspicious, ready to be lived in.

“O steady Śuka! This tree’s span of life is spent, its strength is gone, its sap is used up, its beauty has faded. Think about this carefully, and leave this old tree.”

The parrot’s answer

The parrot, who held to dharma, heard these words. He sighed long and deeply, and in sorrow he spoke:

“Anatikramaṇīyāni daivatāni śacīpate, yatrā bhavat-tava praśna sannibodha surādhipa”

“O husband of Śacī, the ordinances of fate cannot be crossed. Now hear my answer to the question you have asked, O ruler of the devas.”

“I was born on this tree,” the parrot said. “Living here, I gained good qualities. It raised me as its own child and protected me, and it gave my enemies no chance to overpower me. Sinless Devendra, for these reasons I hold ananya-bhakti (undivided devotion) toward this tree. I have the quality of dayā, and I cannot go elsewhere.

“Why, then, do you want to make my good nature useless? For the good (sajjana), showing compassion to others is itself the mark of a righteous mind. The feeling of dayā alone is what always brings joy to good people. All the devas, whenever they are in doubt about dharma, come to you to settle it. For that very reason, O deva, you have become their king, the one who removes every doubt.

“So do not try to cut me off from this tree, where I have taken shelter for so long. I lived on it when it was strong. How could I leave it now, in this state?”

The vara and the tree restored

Indra was glad at these gentle words. He was moved by the parrot’s dayā-guṇa and told him to choose a vara (a boon). The parrot asked nothing for himself. He asked only that the tree that had sheltered him be restored to its former glory, covered again with leaves and flowers as before.

Indra was pleased with the bird’s firm bhakti (devotion) and his śīla-sampad (wealth of character). At once he sprinkled amṛta on the tree. Its fruits, leaves and branches grew back beautifully, and the tree got back all its former splendour, through the parrot’s steady devotion.

Through this act of dayā, the parrot reached Indraloka at the end of his life.

Bhīshma ends the teaching to Yudhishṭhira: whoever holds such uttama-bhakti (the highest devotion), like the parrot’s devotion to the tree, reaches sakalārtha-siddhi, the fulfilment of all aims, just as the tree itself was restored because of the bird’s loyalty.

Sources

• Mahābhārata, Anuśāsana Parva, chapter 5