Presents

The Greatest Indian Stories Beautifully Retold for Today’s Children

This book is copyright © Gilsar Pty Limited, 2014Illustrations are copyright © Gilsar Pty Limited, 2014

Voice recording is copyright © Gilsar Pty Limited, 2014

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced without the permission of the publisher.

The moral right of the author has been asserted.

Author: Simon MaddockIllustrations and Book Design: Pavel Gutsalov

Narrated by: Rob PatersonMusic and Sound Engineer: Ishan Isaacs

he Holy sage Narada, clothed in flowing

robes, his hair piled up on his head, sat in

Heaven on a fluffy white cloud and

played on his sitar. His fingers moved nimbly

across the strings and the music flowed without

ceasing. He sang in a heavenly voice, song after

song, praising his beloved Lord Vishnu.

he Holy sage Narada, clothed in flowing

robes, his hair piled up on his head, sat in

Heaven on a fluffy white cloud and

played on his sitar. His fingers moved nimbly

across the strings and the music flowed without

ceasing. He sang in a heavenly voice, song after

song, praising his beloved Lord Vishnu.

This was his favourite pastime. He loved

Lord Vishnu with all his heart and nothing

pleased him more than sitting for hour after hour

recounting all the wonderful attributes of the

great God.

The time slipped by and Narada was

entranced by his own music and the captivating

qualities of the Lord. And the germ of an idea

wormed its way into his mind.

“I sit all day playing my sitar and singing

the praises of the Great Lord Vishnu,” he

thought, “recounting his exploits and

worshipping him. I must be the greatest of the

devotees of the Lord.”

And this thought warmed Narada’s heart.

He turned it over and over in his mind until he

could sit still no longer. So he arose from his seat

and made his way into the very presence of the

Lord.

ord Vishnu, resplendent in his majesty,

was seated on his golden lotus throne with

his wife Lakshmi beside him. Beautiful

maidservants fanned the divine couple and

majestic peacocks, their tails fully extended,

strutted to and fro.

ord Vishnu, resplendent in his majesty,

was seated on his golden lotus throne with

his wife Lakshmi beside him. Beautiful

maidservants fanned the divine couple and

majestic peacocks, their tails fully extended,

strutted to and fro.

Narada bowed low with his hands pressed together in respectful greeting.

“Narada, my faithful friend, welcome, welcome,” said the Lord Vishnu smiling. “Come and sit beside me and ask your question.”

“Oh Lord,” said Narada when he had seated himself beside Lord Vishnu, “You know what is in my heart before I do. You know my question already.”

“Yes, that is true, but I love my devotees to ask their questions themselves.”

“Oh Lord, with your divine permission I will therefore speak. My question is this. I sit day after day joyfully singing your praises, without ceasing I think about you. Am I indeed your greatest devotee?”

“Yes, my dear Narada, you are indeed my greatest devotee.”

Narada was overjoyed to hear this until the Lord Vishnu raised his finger and continued: “With one exception. Oh Narada, there is one other of my devotees who is greater than you.”

Narada was astonished and begged to meet and worship at the feet of this giant of devotion, this great sage, this god-like being whose devotion to Lord Vishnu was greater even than his.

ut the story grew stranger still, for Lord

Vishnu continued.

“This devotee is no king, or great sage.

No, he is but an ordinary man,” said Lord Vishnu,

“a humble farmer who lives on Earth. If you are

still eager to meet him, we will visit him together,

but we must disguise ourselves as men.”

ut the story grew stranger still, for Lord

Vishnu continued.

“This devotee is no king, or great sage.

No, he is but an ordinary man,” said Lord Vishnu,

“a humble farmer who lives on Earth. If you are

still eager to meet him, we will visit him together,

but we must disguise ourselves as men.”

Narada readily agreed and, in the blink of an

eye, he and the blessed Lord Vishnu, disguised as

dusty travellers were standing at the front door of

a farmhouse. They knocked on the door which

was opened by a young girl, who stared up at them

in wonder.

“Who is there?”, came a voice from inside.

“Two men,” said the girl.

“Praise be to the Lord Vishnu, who has sent

two guests to partake of our hospitality and share

our meal. Oh daughter, invite them in at once in

the name of the Lord,” came the voice, which was

soon followed by the farmer himself.

he man bowed to the two strangers and

begged them to join his family for the

evening meal.

Vishnu and Narada did so, and sat cross-legged

around a rustic mat with the man, his wife and his

four children.

he man bowed to the two strangers and

begged them to join his family for the

evening meal.

Vishnu and Narada did so, and sat cross-legged

around a rustic mat with the man, his wife and his

four children.

The farmer said a short prayer of thanks and

blessing over the food and then everybody served

each other and all were satisfied with the simple

country fare.

The man offered his guests a bed for the night

and praised the Lord when they accepted his

invitation.

Early the next day a similar scene was played

out, the man offered a short prayer and then a

simple meal was prepared and shared with the

guests, after which the farmer left his wife and

younger children to attend to household chores

while he, with his eldest son, left for the fields and

cattle sheds.

The disguised Lord asked if he and his friend

could observe the farmer at work for the day, which

he gladly agreed to. After offering some few words

of thanks to God the four set off.

he man settled to milking his cows and hummed a hymn of devotion to Lord Vishnu as the milk pails filled and his son carried them back to the house. The milking done he

wiped his brow, gave thanks to the Lord once more and then headed off to the fields to tend his crops. After a whole day spent in this fashion he and his son, tired after a long day’s work, said a short prayer together and prepared to head once more for home.

he man settled to milking his cows and hummed a hymn of devotion to Lord Vishnu as the milk pails filled and his son carried them back to the house. The milking done he

wiped his brow, gave thanks to the Lord once more and then headed off to the fields to tend his crops. After a whole day spent in this fashion he and his son, tired after a long day’s work, said a short prayer together and prepared to head once more for home.

Lord Vishnu and Narada thanked him and took their leave.

They had walked for a few minutes and they had arrived at the foot of a small hill when Narada, bursting with curiosity, could contain himself no longer.

“Oh Lord forgive me but I must ask you about this man, whom you say is your greatest devotee. I see he is a hard-working man of virtue, kind to strangers and one who cares for his family and his livestock. But his devotions were short and occasional; he said prayers in between his other activities which took his whole attention. Surely my unbroken devotions to you are superior to his.”Lord Vishnu looked thoughtful and smiled. “Perhaps Narada you are right. Perhaps this fine fellow is not your superior or even your equal in devotion to me.”

Narada beamed at this praise from the Lord.And the Lord continued. “Yes, now that I think about it, perhaps you are my greatest devotee. Might I ask you therefore to complete a task for me?”

Narada was all eagerness to comply. “Yes,” he said, “Yes My Lord, anything! I will fly to the moon and back. I will bring you precious jewels from the high Himalayas, I will journey to the sacred Ganges and bring you holy water. Just ask. You are in my heart and in my thoughts unceasingly!”

Lord Vishnu laughed and said: “Oh Narada, you are truly the prince of devotees. No, I have a much simpler task for you.”

nd with that he held out his hand and in it appeared a large jar filled to the very brim with oil. “Take this jar of oil and balance it

carefully on your head. Then walk around this small hill and don’t spill a single drop.”

nd with that he held out his hand and in it appeared a large jar filled to the very brim with oil. “Take this jar of oil and balance it

carefully on your head. Then walk around this small hill and don’t spill a single drop.”

Narada was mystified by this strange request but, excited to prove his devotion he carefully took the jar of oil and slowly lifted it up and placed it gingerly on top of his head. Slowly he removed his hands and began to take one cautious step after another.

With his arms spread wide to maintain his balance, he slowly shuffled forward until, rounding the hill he could see Lord Vishnu waiting for him.

Finally he arrived and triumphantly placed the jar of oil at Lord Vishnu’s feet. “There”, he said “I didn’t spill a drop!”

“Wonderful, O faithful friend. And, might I ask, how many times did you think of me? How many prayers did you offer to me? How many songs of praise did you sing to me?”

“Why, none,” stammered Narada, “I was too busy concentrating on the jar of oil. I was totally absorbed in making sure not a drop was spilled.”

“Yes,” said Lord Vishnu, “you had your jar of oil, which drove all thought of me from your mind. But our farmer friend with a wife to care for and four hungry children to feed, and guests to entertain, and a farm to manage, with cows to milk and crops to tend, remembers me time and again. He offers prayers, he sings songs of praise and he remembers me again and again. Tell me Narada, who do you now believe to be the greatest of my devotees?”

nd Narada, humbled, bowed low, he praised the humble farmer as the greatest of devotees, and thanked the Lord for his gracious lesson.

nd Narada, humbled, bowed low, he praised the humble farmer as the greatest of devotees, and thanked the Lord for his gracious lesson.

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