Tales from the Indian Epics/The Tale of the Pole Star
THE TALE OF THE POLE STAR
Once upon a time there lived a great king in India whose name was Uttanpad. He had two wives, one named Suniti and the other Suruchi. The former had a beautiful nature and the latter a beautiful face. And just like other kings in other parts of the world, King Uttanpad neglected the queen with the beautiful nature to grow every day more in love with the queen with the beautiful face.
Now by Suruchi King Uttanpad had a little boy called Uttam and by Suniti he had a little boy called Dhruv. Uttam was six and Dhruv was five and each of them inherited the qualities of his mother. King Uttanpad loved them both but because of Suruchi's jealousy he dared not fondle Dhruv in her presence. One day the king was telling the two little boys a story and had Dhruv 
QUEEN SURUCHI AND DHRUV
on his knee. Queen Suruchi entered the room, and furious at the sight, gave Dhruv a push so that he fell over backwards. Prince Dhruv pleaded that he was King Uttanpad's son just as much as Uttam was. But Queen Suruchi grew very angry and bade him go and pray to the gods. For until they pitied him and let him be born again as her son, King Uttanpad would never take him on his knee again.
Little Dhruv went to his mother Suniti and told her what had happened. Suniti told him to pray to the god Krishna. So little Dhruv said that he would go into the forest and pray to Krishna and when he had done so he would return and tell her. But once he had entered the forest he prayed and prayed and prayed so that he never thought of returning, and lived on roots and water. And as he prayed years passed by until the god Krishna, pleased with the boy's devotion, revealed himself and offered him a boon. "Take me with you, O Lord, back to heaven," said Dhruv. "No," said Krishna, "that cannot be. You have yet to go to your father's country and reign over it and bring it happiness. In due time I shall send for you." Dhruv consented. And the god Krishna sent the great sage Narada to lead him back to his father's town. Narada took the prince's hand in his and led him back to King Uttanpad's city.
For many years the king had mourned for Dhruv as one long dead. But when Narada sent word to him that Prince Dhruv had returned, the king made great preparations to welcome him. Seated in a golden howdah carried by the king's own elephant and shaded by the royal umbrella, Prince Dhruv was borne back to his father's palace. And as he passed through the streets, all the maidens, peeping at him through the chinks in the walls or from the corners of the windows, wondered at the handsome prince. And all the matrons and aged dames showered flowers on him from their balconies and roofs. For all were overjoyed at his return except only Prince Uttam and his mother Queen Suruchi. For Prince Uttam had grown into a selfish, jealous man and he was furious that his brother should receive such favour from the king and such honour from the people. And Queen Suruchi hated Prince Dhruv as a possible rival to her own son. Thus although the king and Queen Suniti and the nobles and the ministers welcomed Prince Dhruv and tried to outbid each other in the warmth of their greeting, his brother would barely look in his direction and Queen Suruchi muttered to herself, but so loudly that the bystanders heard, "If only the brat had died in the forest!"
Prince Dhruv did his utmost to win their love, but all to no purpose. Prince Uttam and Queen Suruchi sought every day to humiliate him. At last the king rebuked Prince Uttam. Then the young man's anger knew no bounds. He begged the king for leave to go out with an army that was about to attack a forest tribe who for some months past had revolted against the king's authority. The king gave his son leave to go and placed him at the head of the horse-soldiers but under the orders of the general. Prince Uttam, however, was vain and wayward. He would not heed the advice of his father's general. But taking his horsemen with him he marched ahead of the foot-soldiers into the forest. There the forest tribes easily lured the prince into an ambush and slew him and all the men with him. When the sad news reached the capital, King Uttanpad sent out Prince Dhruv and a band of fresh horsemen. He and the king's general fully avenged Prince Uttam's death, and with great pomp and laden with spoil and captives Prince Dhruv and the army returned in triumph.
But the loss of her son and the triumph of Prince Dhruv unsettled Queen Suruchi's mind. One day she ran out of the city and into the woods and was never heard of afterwards. Then King Uttanpad felt that the time had come for him, as an Aryan king, to resign his crown to his son. So he gave up his robes and sceptre to Prince Dhruv and in the garb of a pilgrim wandered forth into the forest and there led the life of an ascetic until death freed him.
Then King Dhruv ruled in his father's place. And for many a score of years he ruled beloved by his subjects. And his armies were always victorious and the frontiers of his kingdom daily widened and no monarch in all India was so greatly feared or honoured as he. Yet his heart was always sad. For he often thought with sighs of the happy years in which as a boy he had worshipped Krishna in the Madhu forest. And often he said to himself, "Fool that I was to return to my father's home. How happy I should have been had I but spent my life in the woods, worshipping the god Krishna. In the end he would surely have borne me away and gathered me to his bosom."
One day he could bear it no longer and handing over the reigns of sovereignty to his son he made his way back to the Madhu forest on the banks of the Yamuna. He came at last to his old hermitage and suddenly in front of him he saw what he had never seen when he lived there before—a rugged path which rose steeply towards the North. Dhruv paused a moment, but a voice within him seemed to bid him follow the path. He did so, but it never seemed to end. It grew steeper and steeper and steeper. And King Dhruv would have fainted by the way had he not seemed to hear divine voices urging him onwards. Flowers too came floating on the breeze as if showered down by hands far above him. So he struggled on until at last he came to the abodes of the Sun and Moon.
"Stay with us, King Dhruv," cried the Sun-god and the Moon-god. There is no place beyond us. So stay with us and be welcome."
"Nay," said King Dhruv, "I must go until I reach the end of the path that stretches in front of me."
And indeed the path ran right through the abodes of the Moon-god and the Sun-god and lost itself in the distance beyond. So, weary with labour and years, Dhruv climbed upwards until he came to where the seven rishis lived.
"Stay with us, bold prince," cried the seven rishis. We need a mortal to whom to teach our lore." King Dhruv bowed to the seven rishis. "Incomparable sages," he replied, "if I could stay with you I gladly would, so that I could learn your priceless wisdom. But I desire to worship the god Krishna and until I find the place to which he directs me I must follow this path." So the king went on towards the North along the path which never seemed to end. And the seven sages watched him as he went. At last they saw him reach the end of the path. For it stopped suddenly and a bottomless chasm yawned in front of Dhruv. There they saw him sit down and cast up his eyes in silent adoration of the god whom he had loved and sought.
And as the sages watched Dhruv, they saw him gradually lose his human shape and become a shining form. For as he prayed, there entered into him the spirit of the mighty god. And as they watched him, they too turned into shining forms and they too remained motionless in silent contemplation of the saintly king.
And on any cloudless night, if you look up at the sky, you will see a constellation flung like a saucepan right across it. And if you look at the far side of the saucepan and follow the direction in which the stars which form it are pointing, you will see all by itself a beautiful, clear star that points ever to the far North beyond which the god Krishna has his throne. For the saucepan-like constellation is that which Indians call the Seven Sages. But in the West it is known as the Great Bear. And the lonely star to which the seven rishis ever silently point is Dhruv.
For Dhruv is the Pole Star.
Printed by V. P. Pendherkar at the Tutorial Press, 211a, Girgaon Back Road, Bombay.