Jaratkaru Vows to Marry to Save His Ancestors
Jaratkaru, a sage committed to lifelong celibacy, discovers his ancestors are trapped in a hellish limbo because he has no son to perform their rites. Grief-stricken, he makes a vow: he will marry only if he finds a maiden who shares his name, comes to him as alms, and whom he will not have to support.
Jaratkaru was a sage who had taken a vow of brahmacharya (celibacy). His intention was to carry his seed inside his body to the grave and take his entire, untouched form into the next world. He wandered the earth, immersed in austerities, until one day he came upon a strange sight in a cave.
His ancestors — the spirits of his forefathers — were hanging upside down from a single blade of grass, suspended over a deep pit. A rat was slowly gnawing through the root of that blade. They were trapped in a state of torment, and the blade was all that kept them from falling into oblivion.
They explained their plight to him. They were in this state because they had no descendant to perform the shraddha rites — the offerings of food and water that sustain ancestors in the afterlife. Jaratkaru was their last living relative. He had no son. Therefore, he had no heir to perform the rites for them after his own death. Their line, and their peace, ended with him.
Hearing this, Jaratkaru was overcome with misery. His voice choked with tears, he prostrated himself before them. "I am Jaratkaru, your evil son. I have committed a foolish wrong. Please punish me."
His ancestors replied that it was fortunate he had come. Then they asked the direct question: "Why have you not taken a wife?"
Jaratkaru's mind, once firmly set on a life of solitude, was now diverted. "Having seen you hanging here like birds," he said, "my mind has turned away from celibacy. There is no doubt I will do that which brings pleasure to you."
But he was a man of severe vows. He could not simply marry anyone. So he set conditions, as strict and precise as any ritual formula.
"If I get a lady who bears my own name, who comes to me of her own volition, who comes to me as alms and whom I will not have to maintain, I will accept her as my wife." He looked at his suffering ancestors. "Otherwise, I will not marry. That is my truthful promise."
Having given his word, the sage left the cave and continued to roam the earth. He searched for a wife who met his exacting criteria. Seasons turned. He grew old. He could not find one.