How the Prince Regained His Father's Throne

[a fragmentary allegory]

Long ago, in a far away mountain kingdom, there lived a fair and
kindly Prince. When his father died he naturally felt he would become
the next King and began the journey to his father's castle.

With twenty of his followers he arrived at the North Gate of the
Castle wall. At the same time his wicked half-brother arrived at the
South Gate.

In the center of the castle was the Throne Room, and the law of the
land was that whoever of Royal Blood should wear the crown was given
full power over the kingdom.

The good Prince, unaware of the intended usurpation by his
half-brother, went before his men into the courtyard and then into the
Castle itself to gather the crown left by his father.

Meanwhile, his half brother sent his men ahead to stop the good
Prince. The wicked usurper's warriors quickly captured several of the
Prince's men and drove the Prince from the Castle.

Barely escaping with his life, the Prince fled to a dark forest on
the far side of a vast mountain range at the edge of the kingdom.

The usurper marched in behind his men to the throne room and claimed
the crown. He ruled for many years, and the people of the kingdom
suffered greatly under his despotic hand.

The Prince remained in his forest, meditating on his fate and all the
events of his life that had brought him to his dark dwelling. Day
after day, week after week, month after month, and year after year the
Prince called upon Vishnu for wisdom and guidance.

Finally, after twelve years of silent meditation, he saw a brilliant
light in the deepest part of the forest. Cautiously the Prince made his

way to the light, and suddenly found himself in the presence of the Great One.

"Oh kind and gentle Prince, I will grant you the wisdom you seek."
The voice boomed as thunder, yet felt smaller and more delicate than
the finest mist. "You fell before your enemy because you did not know
the ways of evil. It is always so. In the Golden Age, all men were as
you are now: Kind, Just, and Noble. But they were also not as you are
now: living wretchedly in a darkened forest. There was no evil in
those days, and all people lived in harmony and joy. To live today,
you must know not only justice, but injustice; not only pleasure, but
pain; not only honesty, but dishonesty; not only love, but hate; not
only peace, but war.

"Being good only, you were easily conquered by evil. Wise is the man
who can fight evil and remain good. You must learn the ways of the
warrior to rule, but you must not forget the honor of ruling consists
in service to your subjects. The last, you know. The first, you must
learn."

Suddenly, the light became so bright the Prince had to cover his eyes
and look away. When at last he opened them again, Vishnu had
disappeared. In his place sat the many armed Kali, Goddess of War and
Destruction.

In her many hands she held the weapons of war: bows and arrows,
swords, daggers, axes, spears, and war clubs. Her smile was as
venomous as a cobra, her teeth as large as the tiger's. Her earrings
were human skulls, and her skin as black as jet. The Prince cowered
from her in fear.

The voice of Vishnu came softly to the Prince: "Do not be afraid.
Kali will instruct you but she will not harm you."

Then Kali laid her weapons down and sat on the forest floor with the
Prince. "I have seen all the creatures of the earth, and all the
creatures of the air, and all the creatures under the sea. None can
escape without struggle. Even the placid cow is given horns to kill
the wolf. In the presence of your enemy you must fight and you must
fight to win.

You did not fight well because you did not even know there would be a
battle. No one, especially a Prince, can hope to thrive in the age of
Kali without a struggle."

She placed a mat between them. On the mat was a picture of the castle
walls, the two gates, the walkways in the garden, and the hallways of
the imperial house.

Finally, in the center, was the throne room with its several doors
and hidden chambers.

The Goddess placed twenty pebbles in the Prince's hand, and a small
statue. As the Prince looked upon the statue he saw his own face.
Kali smiled and placed another twenty stones on the mat before her.
She then placed another statue, this one of the Prince's half brother
on the mat. She placed. She placed a stone on the mat at the South
Gate and moved him forward. "My first warrior is in the field. If you
wish to win the crown you must first beat my warriors."

The Prince's heart began to race, his face broke out in a terrified
sweat, and his hands trembled as he reached for a stone.

"To be a Prince, you must command. It is not enough to be born of
royal blood. You must earn your power as well."

The Prince moved his first stone toward the center. The game ended
quickly as the Goddess destroyed the Prince's feeble defense and
marched her statue to the throne.

The second game ended almost as quickly, but this time she beat him
in a completely different way. In the third, she defeated him in yet
another ways, and also in the fourth.

"You think there should be only one way to attack and one way to
defend. That is not the way of war, and it is not the way of the
game." The Goddess smiled and pushed a stone onto the mat. "It is your
move."

The Prince thought long and hard, and they played on into the
evening, into the next day, and into the next night. For six days and
nights they played, and the Prince did not even notice that he had not
eaten or slept.

Finally at the dawning of the seventh day, the Prince won his first
game from the Goddess.

- - - -

[The above story is from a manuscript fragment recovered from the
mountain ruins of an ancient temple in northern India. Written originally in Sanskrit,
it was translated by a monk who later went mad and ate the Sanskrit
fragment.

It is unfortunate the fragment is incomplete, but one can surmise the ending,

since – from the title – it is obvious that somehow the Prince, utilizing the

insights gained from Kali, was able to conquer the usurping half-brother and

regain his father's crown.

The allegory reflects the Indian tradition of bringing together seemingly
contradictory aspects of life and some see a link with the Great
Goddess as an Earth Mother whose power was shown both in the fertility
of the earth and in the receiving of the bodies of the dead.

Kali, the devourer of time, represents the realities of life and death, and stands for

the frightening, painful side of life which all who desire to progress spiritually must

face and overcome.]

From John MacEnulty

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