The Stories of Vishwamitra, Vashishtha, Trishanku and Kamadhenu (Sarga 52-60)

First of all, we must understand that the word curse or blessing in our scriptures doesn’t mean what we usually think — that someone is harming or favoring someone else. Here, curse and blessing simply mean: if you do this, then this result will definitely follow. The word “curse” has been used only to express this certainty of consequence — that something will inevitably happen. The same applies to blessings as well.

For example, the earth has the force of gravity. If we jump or leap without balance, gravity will cause us to fall. It’s inevitable — not because gravity is doing anything to us, but because it is its nature. In the same way, if we lie, the definite result will be that we ourselves suffer the harm caused by that lie.

So when scriptures speak of curses and blessings, they are simply showing us that — whatever you do, its result will surely follow. No one can protect us from the natural consequence of our own actions. This idea of inevitability is what curse and blessing mean throughout the Puranas.

Now, when it is said that sages like Vishwamitra or Vashishtha become angry — this anger too is not a physical emotion as we understand it. These are not outer events; these are symbolic. Vishwamitra, Vashishtha, or King Trishanku — all these are representations of inner states within us.

For example, Vashishtha represents the consciousness that continuously aspires upward — the mind that always seeks higher truth and goodness. When one’s mind constantly moves upward — always thinking of others’ welfare and never of harm — that is the Vashishtha state within us.

Vishwamitra, on the other hand, symbolizes the one who works for the welfare of all society. So, within us there are two tendencies — one that aspires for inner spiritual growth, and another that engages in action for the good of the world.

But both these tendencies exist with their own limitations — one may rise upward with ego, thinking “I will uplift society,” while another may remain focused on self-purification. These represent the two classes of people — those who rise inwardly and those who act outwardly.

This story, therefore, is not a historical or physical tale. It is spiritual — it speaks about our inner states. Even the anger mentioned here is not emotional rage, but symbolic — it means inner resistance, tension, or disturbance that arises when our higher nature faces obstruction from the lower one.

All our ancient stories are written like this — long, elaborate tales used to express a small but profound truth. The story we are now reading is also of that kind. Its message is short, but its narration is vast.

So, who is King Trishanku in us?
He is our own mind — constantly swinging between the higher and the lower. Sometimes it wants to rise upward towards divinity; sometimes it wants to enjoy worldly pleasures, thinking, “What’s the harm? Those who chase material life seem happier!”

This Trishanku state of mind — which is never steady, which wavers between heaven and earth — is what this story is really talking about.

And the essence of it all is this: No matter how many worldly skills or abilities we acquire, without self-knowledge, all those abilities are insignificant. Vashishtha represents Self-Knowledge. Once a person attains that, all other attainments become secondary.

But if one lacks self-knowledge — if one doesn’t even know “Who am I?” — then no number of worldly skills can make up for it. So the point is: instead of striving to acquire countless abilities, we should focus on knowing our true self — to become master of our mind, our senses, our intellect, and our ego.

Right now, our entire focus is outward — on name, fame, recognition. We work hard only to appear great in the eyes of others. But all of that is lower compared to Self-Knowledge.

The story tells us that against Vishwamitra’s thousands of weapons, Vashishtha’s single Brahmadanda — the staff of wisdom — stood greater. This is symbolic. It means that within us too, we must choose between countless outer powers and the one true inner power of Self-Knowledge — the Brahmadanda.

When we can control our reactions — when small things no longer make us angry or disturbed — that shows mastery over our own nature. That’s what this story wants us to understand.

It also reminds us that our desires are just like Trishanku’s — wanting to go to heaven with the body, to achieve the divine through physical means. We too make such absurd wishes — wanting divine results without inner effort, wanting reward without purification.

Now, about Kamadhenu — what does that mean?
Kamadhenu represents our nature — our prakriti — when it is fully under our control. When our nature perfectly follows our will — when our mind thinks only what we choose it to think — then our nature has become Kamadhenu.

Right now, our senses don’t obey us. We want to think good thoughts, but the mind wanders elsewhere. We want to see only the good, but our eyes are drawn to the unpleasant. We want to hear truth, but our ears crave gossip. So our nature is not yet Kamadhenu.

Kamadhenu is born only through deep manthan — inner churning. Just as Samudra Manthan (churning of the ocean) produced Kamadhenu, similarly, only when we churn our own mind — reflect deeply on our actions and tendencies — does our nature become refined and obedient to our higher will.

When that happens, our mind, senses, and actions all function exactly as we direct them — that is Kamadhenu.

So when Vashishtha says he will not give away his Kamadhenu, it means: “I cannot give away my purified nature.” Inner purity cannot be transferred; it must be earned through one’s own effort. You can give away material things, but not inner virtues.

That’s why Vashishtha refuses. True purity, self-control, and wisdom — these are not commodities. They are the results of lifetimes of effort.

And finally — the one who truly possesses Kamadhenu no longer has worldly desires. Such a person’s wishes are of the highest order — not for wealth or pleasure, but for the welfare of all.

This is the inner meaning of the story of Vishwamitra, Vashishtha, Trishanku, and Kamadhenu. Through it, Valmiki is preparing us to understand the Ram Katha — not as the story of a divine God, but as the story of Self-Knowledge.
In Valmiki Ramayana, Rama is not just a name of God — Rama represents the realization of the Self.

The entire purpose of these pre-stories — of Ganga’s descent, of Ahalya’s redemption, of Trishanku, of Vishwamitra — is to prepare our mind to receive the deeper truth that Self-Knowledge is supreme.

To move from Rajrishi — one who lives at the physical level — to Brahmarishi — one established in the knowledge of the Self. That is our journey too.