Yudhishtira, the foremost bearer of Dharma had righteously established his Kingship and begun his just rule. The sacred war of Kurukshetra had commemorated victory on the Pandavas. However large the victory was, the loss of kith and kin irked mixed responses amongst the brothers. In order to partially cleanse his Karma, the bearer of Dharma, Yudhishtira took care of Dritharashtra with utmost care and devotion. Just like his own mother Kunti, Duryodhana’s mother Gandhari was nursed with great concern and affection.
When the memories of the war began tiding away, Yudhishtira was called upon by Krishna.
“I believe that it is time for you to establish your sovereignty,” Krishna said.
“The time has come for you to perform the Ashwameda Yaga for establishing the Kingdom’s monarchy.”
The arrangements for the Yaga had begun and the generous Pandavas hosted a surmountable feast to Kings all across the world. With his brothers surrounding him, Yudhishtira poured the ghee into the fire with pride. The chants reached the skies. The world seemed to resonate to the sounds of the great priests. While the crowd watched in awe at the great King performing his duty so holistically, the chattering of the entire hall abruptly came to a halt with the shrilling cry of a weasel. The priests stood up from their positions and looked at the animal.
The animal curled itself on the floor and rubbed its body beside the place where sacrificial fire had been erected. To everyone’s dismay, the weasel’s body was golden on one half and the other half was normal.
“This is an evil being,” proclaimed the foremost priest. The weasel turned its head towards King Yudhishtira, who unlike the others sat calmly on his seat watching the animal.
“Dear King,” the weasel began. “I heard that you are performing the great Yaga to establish your monarchy. But you believe that this magnificent Yaga has pleased everyone and everything. I would say that your belief is indeed a falsity. Unfortunately, the great sacrifice is too little to be valued when compared to the Brahmin who lived in Kurukshetra.”
As the weasel continued his sermon, the foremost priest bitterly stopped him. “Where do you hail from? I am amazed that your argument is impertinent and not in good taste. The Yaga is completed with all due respects. The guests have all been treated with enduring hospitality by our great King. It is your evil presence that has contaminated the very essence of this Yaga. How do you justify yourself by calling this a disgrace when the mantras are duly chanted, the Vedas and Gods have been satisfied and the guests are contented?”
The weasel faced King Yudhishtira and implored, “Dear king, I have not come here to pass comments in distaste about your sacrifice. Please bear in mind that I carry no grudge against you. I have come to this assembly to tell you all a story. It is the narrative of a Brahmin who lived in the city of Kurukshetra with his small family.”
A poor brahmin lived with his wife, son and daughter in law in Kurukshetra. They lived on the meagre amount earned by reaping their small farm that bore maize. All that they could afford was one meal in a day. During the months of bad rain, the family slept with nothing. These were for most days in the year. Finally, as the early summer began, the poor farmer’s field yielded just enough maize to suffice the family for one meal.
With emaciated bodies, the family rejoiced that their wait was finally going to end. The lady of the house pounded the maize and obtained the flour. She divided it into four portions and placed it on four banana leaves. The family sat together and began their humble prayers thanking the Lord for the pound of flour. Just when the Brahmin began to take a bite of his share, an unexpected guest arrived at his humble abode.
The good willed Brahmin and his wife welcome the unexpected visitor and seated him on the floor. The son and daughter in law appeared delighted to have a visitor. Observing the pangs of hunger on his face, the poor Brahmin offered his share of flour to the guest. However, the guest didn’t seem to be satisfied and the poor Brahmin’s wife offered her share without any remorse.
The brahmin said, “Dear one, you have served me enough. You have lived in poverty without complaining but dutifully showing your faithfulness. It is unkind of me to suggest you to offer your share of flour.”
The wife replied, “you are as hungry as I am. Yet, you have offered your share without rumbling. I believe that there is no distinction between us. You may feel free and be relieved of any doubt if I would feel bad.”
The poor Brahmin yielded to his wife’s request and offered the guest her share of flour. Yet again, the guest seemed dissatisfied. The son who realized the father’s worry came forward and offered his pound. Agonized by the response of his son’s deed, the Brahmin refused to accept it.
He implored, “You are very young and your body needs the comfort of sustenance. You cannot handle starvation. Please don’t make me accept this.”
The son replied, “Father, it is my duty to serve you at the times of your need. I am born from you so I am a naturally a part of you. If it is your moral duty to serve the guest then it becomes my foremost duty to offer my share in order to protect your virtuosity. You must not let me down, instead accept my share gracefully and host the guest.”
As the Brahmin served his guest, the greedy visitor gobbled it all up in one stroke and still appeared hungry. The earnest daughter in law walked forward and placed her share on the palms of her father-in-law. With tears in his eyes, the Brahmin refused to accept and said, “you are more emaciated than all of us in the family. Yet, you display enormous courage by offering your share to the guest. I cannot accept it. You will render me guilty of my act.”
“This is my humble offering to you, the head of the family. You must not refuse it. It is my duty to take care of this family. It is my foremost responsibility to serve the needs of my house. Please accept my humble offering and please the guest,” she said.
With little left to say, the Brahmin accepted the share and pleased his guest.
The guest said, “I am profoundly satisfied with your hospitality. You are pure hearted. And so is your family.” And as the guest began pouring out words of gratefulness about the Brahmin, flowers started pouring from the heaven and to the surprise of the entire household, a divine chariot with royal horses and celestial beings landed in front of his house.
The guest said, “Your righteousness has earned you the merit of Swarga. Hunger can destroy the comprehension of the mind. But you and your family have had the courage to fight the pangs of hunger and resorted to placing Dharma above all else through this single act of charity. Please ascend the chariot and enjoy the benefits of Swarga.”
Saying so the guest disappeared.
The weasel said: “I lived near the Brahmin’s house and rolled on the left-over flour on the ground. Half of my body became golden. But there was no more left for the rest of my body to become gold. I have been visiting Kingdoms where the sacrificial fire is performed. I am yet to find that single act of hospitality which places Dharma above all else. I heard that the great Yudhishtira was performing the greatest sacrifice of Ashwameda. Desirous of having a golden body I came to your palace, but, to my dismay your Yaga hasn’t touched the standard of the Brahmin’s sacrifice.”
Saying so, the weasel disappeared.