Wednesday, October 1, 2025

The Markandeya Purana: Madalasa's Teachings on Leadership & Ethics - Alarka series - 02

Introduction

Madalasa agreed to what her husband said. She then decided to guide this son in a different way. Instead of what she had taught her earlier sons, she soothed the crying Alarka and began talking to him.

First Lesson to a Prince

‘O son! Grow up to be a great king and become the kind of person your father wants you to be. As a king, become the protector of the people. Become that person whose name will be known far and wide. Perform good deeds. Make people happy. Understand people and ensure you are not surrounded by evil-minded people. Become the one whose name will be known for years to come. Pray to the gods. Respect and listen to your elders. Devote your life to doing good for others. Do not think and lust for others' women. Think of Krishna and give him a place in your heart. Control the six vices - desire, anger, avarice, delusion, arrogance and jealousy. Understand and control delusion. Have wars when needed, conquer kings and accumulate wealth. Spend that wealth for good.'

Madalasa continued talking, 'My son, be careful never to enjoy hearing others being criticized. Words that bring people down are poisonous — don’t let them enter your heart. Instead, rescue those who are drowning in difficulties, as if they were in an ocean of calamities. Please the gods by offering them respect, and please those who come to you for refuge — especially learned teachers and holy men — by giving them food and shelter. Give women joy with things they cherish. Face your enemies with bravery in battle when the time comes. In childhood, bring delight to your relatives and listen to your elders. In youth, bring joy to women of good character and noble families. In old age, bring peace to the sages and hermits who dwell in forests. Rule your kingdom well, and give happiness to your people. Protect the virtuous, perform sacred duties, and for the sake of your land and its people, destroy the wicked who threaten them — even if it means facing death.'

Alarka grew up hearing these lessons again and again. Day after day, his mother’s voice became the foundation of his understanding of the world.

When Alarka grew older, he underwent the sacred thread ceremony, marking his passage into learning and responsibility. One day, he bowed deeply before his mother and said:

“Mother, I seek your wisdom. Tell me what I must do to be happy in this world and in the next. Tell me what my duty is as a king, what is best for myself, for righteousness, and for the people I rule.”

Madalasa looked at her son with tender eyes. She saw not only a boy but the king he was about to become. And so, she gave him teachings that every ruler — indeed, every leader — should know.

The Four Tools of Governance

“My son,” she said, “when you rule, do it in a way that brings joy to your people — but never at the cost of what is right. Your first loyalty must be to dharma — the path of truth, justice, and righteousness. Avoid vices, for they eat away at the roots of truth. Guard your secrets carefully, for when a king’s plans are leaked, it is as dangerous as a chariot veering off its path — disaster is certain. Be watchful: know who is wicked, who is virtuous, and beware of advisers corrupted by enemies. Use spies wisely to understand what your rivals are planning. And remember — don’t trust people blindly, whether they are friends, acquaintances, or even relatives. Sometimes, those you think are strangers may be the most loyal. But before you fight an outer enemy, conquer your inner enemies — desire, anger, greed, arrogance, pride, and indulgence."

"Many great men of the past fell because they did not conquer themselves. Pandu brought over his doom by killing a couple making love and died when he tried to make love to his wife. Anuhlada by anger, Aila died because of his obsession with gaining more power and wealth, which caused him to lose his kingdom and his life. Vena died because of his arrogance, Anayusha’s son by pride, and Puranjaya by indulgence and excessive praise. But King Marutta, who conquered his inner enemies, conquered the world. So, remember: before ruling others, learn to rule yourself.”

Lessons from the Natural World

Learn from nature and from creatures around you:

  • From a crow, learn alertness.
  • From a cuckoo, the value of timing.
  • From a bee, the art of collecting without harming.
  • From a crane, patience.
  • From a snake, caution.
  • From a peacock, dignity.
  • From a swan, discrimination between good and bad.
  • From a cock, vigilance.
  • From iron, strength.

Be like an owl when facing your enemies — watchful and silent. Be like an ant — working steadily at the right time. Be like the sun and the moon, who give light and protect the earth with balance.

Formulate policies with four tools: conciliation, gifts and generosity, punishment when necessary, and strategic division. These are the ways to preserve peace and order.

The Conduct of Great Powers

Follow the conduct of the great powers of the universe:

  • Like Indra, nourish the world with generosity.
  • Like the sun, draw what is needed from people without burdening them — just as the sun draws water gently.
  • Like Yama, be impartial, treating friends and foes alike with justice.
  • Like the full moon, bring delight to all through your presence.
  • Like the wind, move unseen, sending your intelligence through spies and messengers everywhere.

The True King

A true king does not give in to greed or desire. He does not rule for wealth or personal pleasure, but for dharma — for truth, order, and the happiness of all. When a king helps people stay on the right path, he earns not only their love but a place in heaven.

The supreme duty of a ruler is to protect society so that every person — whether a farmer, a priest, a warrior, or a worker — can follow their rightful path in life. If you do this, you will not only bring prosperity to your kingdom but also secure eternal happiness for yourself.”

Philosophy

At its heart, the passage is a handbook for ethical leadership and whole-person formation: rule outwardly with justice and protect your people, but rule inwardly first by mastering your desires and emotions. “Dharma” here is the organizing idea — not merely religious ritual but the principle of right action: truth, duty, fairness. Madalasa pairs inner work (conquering desire, anger, greed, delusion, arrogance, jealousy) with outward responsibilities (protecting the weak, feeding teachers, rescuing the suffering, and defending the realm). She offers a practical moral psychology: character determines destiny. The repeated injunctions to respect elders and teachers, to place a devotional pole-star in the heart (Krishna), and to perform public duties show a balanced ethic: devotion and self-control sharpen the will, while generosity and firm justice shape society. The strategy of “Sama, Dana, Danda, Bheda” (conciliation, gifts, punishment, and strategic manoeuvre) anchors the philosophy in prudence — moral ends require skillful means. In short: personal virtue makes political virtue possible.

Significance

Every specific command in the text carries social function. Telling a future king to “rescue those drowning in calamities” and “feed the brahmanas/teachers” is about social safety nets and cultural continuity — it keeps societies resilient and educated. Warnings against taking pleasure in others’ criticism guard against a culture of schadenfreude that corrodes trust. The sacred-thread ceremony passage marks a rite of entry into responsibility: the child becomes accountable. The injunction to “not lust after others’ women” safeguards households and social order; in a modern ethical reading it becomes a teaching against objectification and betrayal. Listing historical failures (Pandu, Vena, etc.) models how moral lapses have practical, catastrophic consequences for leaders; these are cautionary exemplars. Finally, the animal and cosmic analogies codify leadership virtues (vigilance, timing, patience, impartial justice) into memorable, teachable items — significance lies in turning values into actionable habits.

Symbolism

The passage is saturated with symbolic teaching: the “ocean of calamities” symbolizes emotional overwhelm and collective crisis — to “rescue” those in it is to practice active compassion. The sacred-thread ceremony symbolizes the transition from dependent child to social agent. Krishna is a symbol of the inner moral guide or highest ideal one keeps in the heart; devotion here equals orientation toward a steady center. The animals are compressed moral metaphors: the crow (alertness and opportunism), cuckoo (timing and song — knowing when to speak), bee (gathering resources without harming the source), crane (patience), snake (caution), peacock (dignity/pride to be disciplined), swan (discrimination — the ability to separate milk from water, truth from falsehood), cock (vigilance), iron (resolute strength), owl (silent watchfulness), ant (diligent labor), sun/moon (consistent benevolence and balance), wind (invisible intelligence, i.e., networks of information). “Sama, dana, Danda, Bheda” symbolize a toolkit for relational governance — reconciliation, generosity, firm law, and strategic intelligence. These symbols compress ethical complexity into images the mind can keep.

Modern Relevance

This text translates surprisingly cleanly to contemporary life. “Do not enjoy hearing others being criticized” is an antidote to online trolling and pile-on culture: don’t amplify humiliation for cheap pleasure. “Rescue those drowning” applies to volunteering, emergency services, social work, mental-health first aid and disaster relief. The admonition to “guard secrets” reads as modern advice on data privacy and responsible leadership—leaks and careless disclosures destabilize organizations. “Conquer inner enemies” is modern psychotherapy: emotional regulation, addiction recovery, and impulse control are leadership essentials. The Sama/Dana/Danda/Bheda framework resembles modern conflict resolution and public policy: negotiation first, incentives and welfare second, enforcement where necessary, and targeted strategic measures when other tools fail. The counsel to “accumulate wealth and spend it for good” maps to ethical philanthropy, public investment, and social enterprise. Even the call to respect teachers and elders echoes mentorship, apprenticeship, and institutional memory that modern organizations need.

Life Lessons

Practical, everyday takeaways pour out of the passage: (1) Before you try to lead others, cultivate self-discipline — pick one inner “enemy” (say, anger) and practice one daily technique to reduce it. (2) Don’t glorify others’ failures — practice empathy, and when you see someone shamed, ask how you can help. (3) Build a moral toolkit: when in conflict, try reconciliation first, generosity second, fair consequences third, and strategic alternatives last. (4) Choose advisers carefully; check motives and look for corruption or flattery. (5) Learn by imitation from small things: practice the crow’s alertness by taking a 10-minute morning scan of your environment; learn the ant’s patience by committing to steady work; practice the swan’s discrimination by separating facts from gossip. (6) Use resources—time, money, influence—to protect the vulnerable (teachers, refugees, elders). These are actionable, habit-based lessons for character, leadership and community care.

Saturday, September 27, 2025

The Rishi Who Redefined Marriage Terms – Mahabharata Tales

 Rishi Jaratkaru accepted marriage only on his own terms—no wealth, no bargaining.

This short video shows how the Mahabharata challenges ideas of marriage, consent, and personal agency.
Watch here → https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vp2nc4Itdww

Friday, September 26, 2025

Family Duty vs. Self-Denial – The Dilemma of Rishi Jaratkaru

 The Mahabharata tells of Rishi Jaratkaru, pressed to marry to save his family line while devoted to a life of restraint.

This video explores that tension between duty and personal choice.
Watch here → https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZKcNlL6X6cE

Wednesday, September 24, 2025

The Connection Between Durga Puja and Rama's Story

 Many people celebrate Durga Puja in Bengal and eastern India, but did you know that the festival is linked to Rama's worship of the goddess Durga? This story, while not in the Valmiki Ramayana, is mentioned in other Hindu texts.

One such text is the Devi Bhagavat Purana. The narration in this text is less detailed compared to others, but it still provides a clear account. It states that when Rama and Lakshmana were wondering how to get Sita back, Rishi Narada approached them and instructed Rama to worship the goddess. Narada advised Rama to perform this worship for nine days and nights during the month of Ashwin (September-October) and even agreed to be the priest for the ceremony.

Rama and Lakshmana, guided by Narada, performed the worship. On the eighth day, the goddess appeared before them, riding a lion. She reminded Rama that he was an incarnation of Vishnu and Lakshmana of the snake Shesha. She then blessed them, stating that Lakshmana would kill Indrajit and Rama would defeat Ravana. After her blessing, she disappeared. 

Following the successful worship, Rama and his army crossed over to Lanka by building a bridge. As the goddess had promised, Lakshmana killed Indrajit, and Rama killed Ravana, completing their mission.

This narrative shows how different Hindu scriptures complement each other and provide additional details to well-known stories. Another text, the Brihad-Dharma Purana, also mentions this story, which will be explored in a future video.

To understand the full story and its significance, watch the complete video here: 


Markandeya Purana : Madalasa’s Cradle Songs - Birth of Alarka - Part 01 of the series on Alarka

The Crowning of Ritadhvaja and Madalasa

After many years upon the throne, King Shatrujit passed away. With Shatrujit gone, and after a period of mourning, Ritadhvaja was then crowned king of the land, by the people. Ritadhvaja was brave, but he was also gentle and noble. He ruled with care, treating his subjects as though they were his own children. With Ritadhvaja as the king, he ruled along with his queen, Madalasa.


The Birth of the First Son, Vikranta

In due time, Madalasa got to know that she was with child. When the time came, Madalasa gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Everyone in the kingdom was pleased with the news. Rejoicing took place. The king said this would grow up to be a strong warrior and named the infant, Vikranta, the courageous one. Celebrations continued. Madalasa smiled when she saw the celebrations. There was something that she knew, something which the others did not.


Madalasa's Teachings on the True Self

One day, Vikranta lay in his mother’s lap, crying, as all babies do. The nurse maidens tried to cheer him, but Madalasa looked at her son and spoke in a way no one expected. She began teaching her son about life itself. “My son,” she said, “you are pure. Your true self has no name. The name Vikranta was given to you a few days ago, but you are something beyond any name. You are not this body of flesh and bone. This body is made from the same five elements as the world around you—earth, water, fire, air, and space. It grows only because of food and water, and one day it will fade. But your real self will remain even when this body is gone. So why do you cry? Do you cry because you have been born here, pushed inside a frame of skin and senses? Birth is a beginning and a binding. Because of deeds of past lives, you have entered this body. Now you must live inside it until it falls away. But remember, my son, this body is only a covering, not who you truly are.”

Madalasa then began rocking the child gently. Her soothing voice and the rocking motion slowed down the cries of the boy. Madalasa continued talking to the boy as if she was talking to a grown-up, albeit softly: “People say, ‘This is my father, my mother, my child, my beloved.’ They form relationships. But these are only bonds of the body. The wise ones know that the real self does not own or possess anyone. When people are confused, they chase pleasures, thinking they will find happiness. But pleasure always fades, and with it comes greater misery. Those who see clearly know this truth: the search for happiness in the outside world only brings more sorrow.”

She stopped, looked at the baby and continued: “Look at the body itself. People decorate it, admire it, and cling to it; but what is it really? There is only bone under the skin. Bright eyes hide the flesh. The body is just a vessel of flesh and bone, nothing more. Yet people live as though the body is their only identity, their only treasure. Think of the earth. It is like a great chariot. The body is a carriage on that chariot. But inside is the rider; the true self. That is who you are. Do not mistake the carriage for the rider.”

“So, give up clinging to ‘this is mine’ and ‘that is not mine.’ Give up pride in the body. Go beyond right and wrong, truth and falsehood, because all these are labels that bind the mind. When you cast aside what ties you down, only then will you be free.”

The baby grew quiet in her lap. To everyone else, these words seemed far too great for an infant. But Madalasa smiled. She knew that even in a cradle, the soul could be reminded about freedom.

Having learnt about the ultimate truth from his mother, Vikranta grew day by day. From his father, he inherited strength and intelligence. From his mother, knowledge about the self which she had planted in him from the very beginning of his life. Unlike other children who grew attached to objects, this boy remained detached. The words of Madalasa had settled within him. He knew that nothing in this world could truly be called “mine.” His mind turned away from the duties and desires of household life. Wealth, power, family, pleasure did not stir him. He lived with a quiet awareness that the self was beyond all these passing things. While his friends played and dreamed of future kingship, he looked inward. His mother’s words had shaped his vision: he saw the body as a covering, the world as a passing show, and the self as something eternal, untouched, and free.


The Naming of the Second and Third Sons

When Madalasa’s second son was born, King Ritadhvaja named him Subahu (“the one with mighty arms.”) The court praised this choice, for what better name for a prince than one that promised strength and valour? Yet Madalasa laughed again. To her, names that glorified the body meant little. Strength of arms might win kingdoms, but true strength was in knowing the self that never perishes. As she rocked the infant in her lap, she soothed him with the same knowledge she had given his brother, whispering that he was pure, beyond body and name.

When the third son was born, the king named him Shatrumardana, meaning “the crusher of enemies.” It was a warrior’s name, full of promise. As soon as she heard it, Madalasa laughed even more. How could the self, which was untouched and eternal, have an enemy to conquer? Enemies and victories belonged to the world of illusion, not to the soul. Cradling her son, she reminded him that in truth he had no rivals, no enemies, nothing to defeat. And so, from her words, the boy grew without desire for worldly triumph, unmoved by the fruits of power and conquest.


The Birth of the Fourth Son and King Ritadhvaja’s Concern

Then a fourth son was born. The palace once again filled with joy. Ritadhvaja was ready to give him a name, just as he had with the other children. But before he could speak, he saw Madalasa smiling and laughing, the same way she had each time before. Ritadhvaja could not control his curiosity. He had observed it before and it was happening again. He said to Madalasa, “Each time I named our sons, you laughed. I gave them fine names—Vikranta (the mighty one), Subahu (the strong-armed), and Shatrumardana (the destroyer of enemies). Such names are fitting for princes who are born to rule and protect. Tell me, why do you laugh at these names? If you think these are not worthy names, then you give our fourth son his name.”

Madalasa, with gentle composure, replied, “O great king, since you command me, I shall name this child. He shall be called Alarka. Your youngest son will be wise one whose name will become famous.” Hearing this, Ritadhvaja laughed aloud. “Alarka? That is a meaningless name! My sons are born of royal blood. How can such a name suit a prince?”


Madalasa's Explanation of Names and Identity

Madalasa answered, “My lord, the names are just a label. They hold nothing, for the true self cannot be bound. The names you have given—are they any less meaningless? Let me explain. You called your first son Vikranta. The word means ‘one who strides with courage, who crosses from one place to another.’ But the atman, the true self within, does not stride from place to place. It is everywhere already—unchanging, all-pervading. So, tell me, what meaning does ‘Vikranta’ really hold for the self? Your second son you named Subahu, ‘the one with mighty arms.’ But the soul has no arms, no form, no limbs. To say it is strong or weak makes no sense. So that name too, in truth, is empty. Your third son you named Shatrumardana, ‘the destroyer of enemies.’ Yet the same soul lives in all beings. Who, then, is the enemy? Who is the friend? Only bodies clash with bodies, elements against elements. The self cannot be crushed, cannot fight, cannot destroy. Differentiation alone breeds anger, rivalry, and hatred. But the atman knows no such divisions. If these names are but empty sounds, then why do you think only Alarka is meaningless? All names are born of custom. The wise know this: the self is beyond names, beyond titles, beyond roles.”

The king listened. In Madalasa’s eyes, every name was like a garment; something to wear for a time, but never the truth of the soul within. After naming their fourth son Alarka, Madalasa cradled him in her arms. Just as she had done with her elder sons, she began to whisper truths into his ears.


The King's Plea for a Different Path

But this time the king could not remain silent. Ritadhvaja frowned and said, “What are you doing? Why do you fill the mind of this child with such beliefs? You have misled our other sons. If you love me, care for me, the do me a favour. Guide this son of ours onto the path of action. Do not push him towards the path of withdrawal. He has been born a prince. Teach him his duties. He will need to perform his duties. As the prince, he will have to offer food and water to the ancestors. Let the ancestors not suffer. Let this boy remain. Do not turn this child away from action. Instruct him in the duties of a prince. Teach him the ways that will bring prosperity here, and benefit in the life to come.”


Philosophy and Significance

Madalasa reminds her sons, even from infancy, that the true self is beyond body, name, and worldly identity. The body is only a garment stitched from the five elements, temporary and perishable, while the self is eternal and untouched. Names, relationships, pride, and worldly achievements belong to the sphere of illusion; they do not touch the essence of being. In her words, liberation begins with detachment from the idea of “I” and “mine.” Madalasa’s songs are significant because they present philosophy as lived truth taught at the very threshold of life. Having died and re-born, Madalasa is a yogi who sees the truth.


Relevance in Modern Lives

Madalasa’s wisdom is strikingly relevant today. In a world that constantly measures worth through names, labels, achievements, possessions, and social roles, her words cut to the core: none of these define who we truly are. In an age of over-attachment to identity and external validation, the reminder that the self is beyond body, beyond possessions, beyond even relationships, can be deeply liberating. Her teaching encourages us to live in society and fulfil responsibilities, but without being enslaved by pride, fear, or attachment.


Call to Action

We may not all be able to renounce kingdoms or titles, but we can begin with awareness. Ask yourself: Who am I beyond my name, my job, my possessions? Can I see my body as a vessel, my relationships as sacred yet impermanent, my successes and failures as passing events? Madalasa’s call is not to reject life, but to see through it—to recognize that freedom lies not in gaining more, but in realizing who you already are.