Yayati explains his fall from heaven to Ashtaka

Yayati was falling. He landed at the sacrificial ground of King Ashtaka, a righteous monarch performing a yajna (sacrifice). Ashtaka, seeing a luminous being descend, asked who he was. “I am Yayati,” the fallen king said. “Son of Nahusha, father of Puru. Disrespect for all beings has dislodged me from the world of the gods, the siddhas (perfected beings), and the rishis (sages). My merit diminished, I am falling.” He added a point of protocol: “Since I am older than you in age, I was not the first to greet you. He who is senior in learning, austerities, or birth is older and is worshipped by the Brahmanas.” Ashtaka questioned this, noting that seniority in learning and austerities, not just age, commanded respect. Yayati’s reply shifted from etiquette to philosophy. “It is said that evil deeds destroy the merit of good deeds and vanity leads to the evil worlds.” He spoke as one who knew. “I myself had great riches. But all that is gone now and I will not get it back, despite my best efforts.” He laid out a doctrine of equanimity rooted in the supremacy of destiny. In the world of the living, men have different dispositions and make great efforts, but destiny determines the outcome. Knowing this, the wise are content with what they obtain. Happiness and misery are beyond one’s control. “Knowing that destiny is supreme, one should not be miserable or happy. The wise are always equable, without misery in grief and exultation in happiness.” He described his own state of mind. “O Ashtaka! I never tremble in fear. Nor is my mind ever affected by anxiety. For I know that it will certainly be the way the creator has determined for me.” Everything — insects, those born from eggs, vegetables, reptiles, worms, fish, stones, wood — when freed from action, is reunited with nature. Happiness and unhappiness are not eternal. “Knowing this, why should I grieve? We never know what should be done to avoid misery. Therefore, I am not concerned and give up grief.” Intrigued, Ashtaka asked for details. “O lord of kings! Tell me in detail the accurate accounts of the worlds that you enjoyed and where you spent time. You speak of dharma like one who knows the subject.” Yayati began his account. He had been a king who ruled the entire earth. After death, he acquired many great worlds and ascended through them. He lived for a thousand years in a beautiful world, the capital of Puruhuta (Indra), with a thousand gates and extending for a thousand yojanas. Then he ascended to a superior world — divine, without decay, the world of Prajapati (the creator), difficult to attain. He spent another thousand years there. Then he reached the abode of the god of the gods. “I lived in that world, as I wished. The thirty gods have paid me homage. I have rivalled the gods in power and glory.” He described Nandana, Indra’s pleasure-garden. There, he could assume any form at will. For a million years he sported with apsaras (celestial dancers) among flowering trees and fragrant scents. He lived there in divine happiness for a number of years beyond counting. Then it ended. “A messenger of the gods, terrible in visage, shouted to me thrice in a deep voice: ‘Ruined, ruined, ruined.’” Yayati remembered the moment his merit finally ran out. “I fell from Nandana.” As he fell, he heard the voices of the gods in the sky, lamenting. “Yayati of sacred fame and sacred deeds has had his merit diminished and is falling. What misfortune!” Plummeting, Yayati asked them, “Where are the righteous ones among whom I shall fall?” They pointed him to Ashtaka’s sacrificial ground. “On seeing it, I came here quickly. I smelt the fragrance of ghee wafting up from the sacrificial ground. I saw the smoke rising up and was reassured.” His fall had ended, not in oblivion, but at the fire of a righteous king.