Irreversible Fate

There once lived a Brahmin in a small village with his wife and son. Life was hard; the Brahmin was extremely poor. Their humble hut had a thatched roof with holes big enough for sunlight and rain to pour through freely. When it rained, the family huddled in a corner, seeking shelter. To survive, the Brahmin begged for alms, and priestly work came rarely. Often, the family went without food.

One day, tired of their miserable existence, the Brahmin’s wife spoke up, “I don’t worry about myself, master. I can live with you in rags, on an empty stomach. But I can’t bear seeing our son starving and in tatters. He’s ten years old, yet no teacher even lets him into their class. If this continues, he will grow up ignorant and uneducated.”

“I understand your pain,” the Brahmin sighed. “But poverty is our fate. And no one can change fate.”

“Only fools rely solely on fate!” his wife argued. “Through action, a man can change his fortunes. Go to a town; perhaps fortune will favor you there. Try your luck! I am sure you will find success and return as a rich man.”

The Brahmin considered her words. “You may be right, but all I know is begging and performing priestly duties. What can I do in a town?”

“The villagers here don’t value you, but maybe a town or another village will recognize your worth. That would change our lives.”

Seeing sense in her idea, the Brahmin set off the very next day. After a couple of days, he reached a town, but misfortune awaited him there as well. No one acknowledged him. The town felt cold and cynical, and his heart broke. Disheartened, he returned to his village and resumed his old routine.

One day, as he walked barefoot on his usual begging round, his clothes in tatters, clutching a begging bowl, Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvati happened to pass overhead. They were touring the earth, and the sight of the impoverished Brahmin tugged at Parvati’s heart. She paused.

“Why have you stopped, dear?” Shiva asked.

“Look at that poor man, my Lord,” she pointed down. “He is so destitute.”

“Yes,” Shiva agreed, “he is indeed very poor.”

“Please, do something for him. I cannot bear to see his misery.”

“This is the earthly realm, my dear,” Shiva replied. “Every being here suffers in one way or another. How many can we save?”

“But I want you to make that Brahmin wealthy!” Parvati insisted.

“He is not destined for wealth, Parvati. His fate only allows him rags to wear and scant food of poor quality,” Shiva explained, hoping to help her understand fate’s irreversible course. But Parvati was adamant. Relenting, Shiva placed a gold brick along Brahmin’s path.

Yet, as the Brahmin approached, an odd thought struck him: to see how far he could walk with his eyes closed without stumbling. With his eyes shut, he walked right past the gold brick, only stopping when he stumbled over a stone a few steps ahead. Frustrated by the Brahmin’s obliviousness, Parvati sighed, while Shiva gently smiled. “You see, my dear, poverty is his destiny. He cannot escape it.”

The divine couple returned to Mount Kailash, but Parvati’s heart still ached for the poor Brahmin. After a while, Shiva asked, “Why are you still troubled, my love?”

“That Brahmin,” she replied, “his family consists of three members. Couldn’t we make just one of them rich? That would surely lift them all out of poverty.”

“My dear, all three members are destined for poverty, the result of many past misdeeds. Perhaps that is why fate has united them in this life.” But seeing her determination, Shiva agreed, “Each of them may make one wish.”

Shiva and Parvati visited the Brahmin’s household. Overwhelmed, the family fell at their feet. Shiva blessed them and announced, “I grant each of you a single wish.”

“I will go first!” the Brahmin’s wife said, her voice trembling with excitement.

“Then make your wish,” Shiva said.

“Make me the most beautiful young woman,” she blurted out, blushing.

In an instant, she transformed into a breathtaking seventeen-year-old maiden. Both her husband and son looked at her in amazement. At that very moment, the zamindar’s wayward son happened to pass by on horseback. Enchanted by her beauty, he swiftly seized her, placing her on his horse and galloping away.

“My wife!” the Brahmin cried in despair.

“Don’t worry,” Shiva said. “You still have a wish to make.”

“I want my wife back!” the Brahmin shouted.

“So be it,” Shiva granted. Instantly, his wife reappeared.

Now, it was the son’s turn. Shiva asked, “What do you wish, young man?”

The boy looked at his mother, visibly uncomfortable with her transformed appearance. “Make my mother as she was before.”

With that, the beautiful maiden turned back into the familiar old woman in rags.

Watching this, Parvati’s patience was exhausted. Frustrated by the family’s lack of foresight, she lost all desire to help them further. With a flash, Shiva and Parvati returned to Kailash, leaving the family to their irreversible fate.