A man lies dying in a poor hut.
He has lived a terrible life. He threw away everything his parents taught him. And now, at the door, stand Yama's messengers. Red hair. Red beards. Clubs in their hands. They have come to drag him away.
The man is shaking with fear. And he does the only thing he knows how to do.
He calls out for his little son.
"Narayana! Narayana!"
And the messengers of death… stop. They tremble. They cannot come closer.
Who was this man? And how did the worst man in his town end up calling the name of God with his last breath?
Today begins the story of Ajamila. It will take us three days.
Janaka's Question to Vasishtha
King Janaka had a doubt, and he put it to Vasishtha honestly.
"Swami, people say a bath in a river, a small gift, a lamp, wipes out every sin. But the great teachers say only hard, long atonements can do that. How can a little gift remove a huge sin? If a man is swept away by a flooding river, can he save himself by holding on to a blade of grass?"
Vasishtha smiled. "Listen, Janaka. I will answer you with a story."
The Brahmin's Son Who Lost His Way
In the city of Kanyakubja lived a learned brahmin and his good, faithful wife. They were devoted to dharma. And they had a son. They named him Ajamila.
They loved that boy very much. Too much. Whatever he wanted, he got. No one ever said no to him. And so he grew up wild. He learned nothing.
When he became a young man, he saw a maidservant, a dasi, who worked in another house. And he fell for her completely.
From that day, he forgot everything. His parents. His prayers. His duties as a brahmin. Nothing mattered except her.
His relatives were ashamed. They threw him out of the family.
So Ajamila went to live with the dasi, in a poor hut in the same village. He took up hunting. With dogs and nets, he caught animals and birds and ate them. The son of a learned brahmin… now lived as a hunter.
Then one day, the dasi climbed a tall palm tree. She slipped. And she fell to her death.
Ajamila wept wildly. He had loved her more than his own life.
The dasi had a daughter, now grown up. She was crying for her mother. Ajamila comforted her. And then he did something even worse than everything before. He took the dasi's own daughter as his wife.
Years went by. Children were born to them. But one after another, they did not live.
Then one more son was born. And this one lived.
Ajamila named him… Narayana.
Notice that. He did not pick that name out of devotion. It was just a name. But this little boy became the light of his life. He could not bear to be away from him for a moment.
So all day long, he called him. When he walked, "Narayana, come here." When he sat down, "Narayana, where are you?" When he ate, when he drank… "Narayana, Narayana."
He never once thought of God. He was only thinking of his son. But the name was on his lips, again and again, every single day.
A Name Called at the Last Breath
And then, the last day of Ajamila's life arrived.
He looked up. And he saw them.
Yama's messengers. Terrible to look at. Red hair, red beards. In their hands, clubs, stones and knives. They had come to take him.
Ajamila was terrified. His little son was playing far away. And with all the strength he had left, he cried out, "Narayana! Narayana!"
He was calling his son. Only his son.
But the name had been said.
Yama's messengers froze. They began to tremble. They could not take a single step closer.
And in that moment, the whole place filled with light.
Shining figures had arrived. Eyes like lotuses. Four arms. Holding the conch and the discus. Crowns on their heads, garlands of lotus on their chests.
They were the messengers of Lord Vishnu.
They seated Ajamila in a celestial chariot.
"This man is ours," they said. "Not yours."
Yama's messengers could not believe it. "Who are you?" they demanded. "Are you gods? Siddhas? Do you know who this is? He was born a brahmin and threw it all away. He has done nothing but sin his whole life. He belongs to Yama. How dare you take him?"
Two sets of messengers. One dying man. And one word between them.
Who was right?
Three Kinds of Dharma
Vasishtha paused here and turned to the king.
"Janaka, you asked how something small can wipe out something huge. Listen. Dharma is of three kinds. Sattvika, rajasa and tamasa."
"Tamasa dharma is done just for show, to please people, without care for what is right. It gives nothing. And when it is done only for gain, outside the rules, it even binds you to birth again and again."
"But sattvika dharma is done with a pure heart, in thought, word and deed, and the whole fruit is offered to God. When it is done at a holy place, at a holy time, and given to a worthy person, it does not stay small. It has no end."
"Think of a huge pile of firewood. It may be as big as a mountain. But it takes only one small spark to burn it all. In the same way, the name of God, said even once, knowingly or unknowingly, burns away a mountain of sin. The way fire burns through a forest of bamboo."
What This Chapter Asks of Us
So that is today's practice. In this month of Karthika, do one small good thing with a clean heart. A lamp in a temple. A small gift. A bath in the morning. A few minutes with God's name. And don't do it for show. Offer it quietly to God.
Read next
- Karthika Puranam – all 30 days
- Previous chapter: Karthika Puranam Day 7: The Lamp That Must Not Go Out
- Start from Day 1: Karthika Puranam Day 1: The River in Every Well
- Why Karthika Masam Is So Sacred: Meaning and Key Days
- Why We Light a Lamp (Deepam): Meaning, Oil, Wicks and Rules
- How to Do Tulasi Puja at Home: Method and Rules