The Ministers Narrate Parikshit's Insult to the Sage

King Janamejaya wanted the story of the end. His ministers, always engaged in what brought the king pleasure, told him everything that had happened. “O king,” they began. “Your father was always addicted to hunting, like the greatly fortunate warrior and great archer, Pandu.” He enjoyed it so much he handed over the day-to-day running of the kingdom to his ministers. On one occasion, he was roaming in the forest, shot a deer with an arrow, and pursued it deep into the woods. He was alone, on foot, armed with his sword, quiver, and bow. But the wounded deer vanished. Parikshit, sixty years old, tired and hungry from the chase, found himself lost. It was then he saw a great sage in the depths of the forest. The lord of kings approached and asked the sage a question. The sage, however, was observing a vow of mauna (silence). He did not reply. He sat motionless and peaceful, like a piece of wood. Parikshit, hungry, thirsty, and frustrated from his futile hunt, did not know about the vow. He saw only a man ignoring a king’s question. Anger rose in him. “Being angry, your father insulted the sage,” the ministers said. With the tip of his bow, he picked up a dead snake from the ground. He walked over to the pure-souled sage, who remained utterly still, and placed the dead snake around his shoulders. It was a childish, contemptuous act — the gesture of a man momentarily stripped of his royal dignity by fatigue and irritation. The insult was public, humiliating, and directed at a man of ascetic power. The sage did nothing. “That wise one did not utter a word, good or bad, and did not become angry. He remained as he was, with the snake around his shoulders.” The silence in the forest was complete. The king walked away. The sage sat, bearing the dead weight. The insult, small and petulant, was now a fact in the world. It hung in the air, waiting for consequence.