Ramā Ekadasi

The son-in-law who died on the fast

Retold from the Padma Purāṇa, Uttara Khaṇḍa, Chapter 60. The standard English translation, on which this retelling relies, is by N.A. Deshpande (Motilal Banarsidass).

A note about the name before the story begins. Ramā with a long final ā — different from Rāma, the prince of Ayodhyā with a long initial ā — is one of the names of Lakṣmī, the consort of Viṣṇu. It means the delighting one, the one in whom delight resides. This Ekādaśī takes its name from her, not from the prince. The deity worshipped is Lakṣmī alongside Viṣṇu.

The story Kṛṣṇa tells Yudhiṣṭhira is short and uncompromising.

There was once a king named Mucukunda. He had formed friendship with Indra, the lord of gods. He was also on friendly terms with Yama, Varuṇa, Kubera, and Vibhīṣaṇa — the lord of Laṅkā after Rāvaṇa's fall. The king was a great devotee of Viṣṇu, true to his word, and ruled over his kingdom successfully.

A daughter was born to him. She was named Candrabhāgā, after the great river of the Punjab (the Chenāb). She was given in marriage to Śobhana, the son of King Candrasena.

Once, the Purāṇa says, Śobhana came to his father-in-law's house.

It happened that the day of the Ekādaśī vow came during his visit. Candrabhāgā saw what was about to happen and felt a chill of fear.

She thought to herself: O lord of gods, what will happen? My husband is very weak. He is not able to put up with hunger. And my father's rule is strict.

In Mucukunda's kingdom, the Ekādaśī fast was not a private matter. It was a kingdom-wide observance. When the tenth day arrived, the king's drum was beaten through the streets with the public proclamation: Do not eat, do not eat on the day of Viṣṇu.

Śobhana heard the drum. He turned to his wife.

O dear one, he said, what should I do? Advise me, O beautiful one.

Candrabhāgā answered with the honesty of a wife who knew her father and her husband both.

O lord, today nobody in my father's house is to eat anything. On the day of Viṣṇu, elephants, horses, their young ones, so also other beasts are not to eat grass or drink water. Then, O dear one, how would human beings eat on the day of Viṣṇu? If you eat anything today, you will be censured. Thinking like this to yourself, make your mind strong.

Even the animals fasted in Mucukunda's kingdom. There was no exception for a visiting son-in-law. If Śobhana ate, it would shame his wife in her father's house.

Śobhana accepted.

O dear one, these words are true. I shall fast today. Whatever is laid down by destiny will just take place in the same way.

He observed the vow.

The Purāṇa is unsparing about what fasting cost him. With his body oppressed with hunger, he became extremely distressed. The hours passed. The sun moved west. That night enhanced the joy of Viṣṇu's devotees engaged in worshipping Viṣṇu, with their minds attached to keeping awake. But it became very painful to Śobhana.

At the time of sunrise — at the very moment the fast was to be broken — Śobhana expired.

He died.

The king got him cremated with pieces of wood befitting royalty. Candrabhāgā did not abandon her body with her husband. (The reference is to the practice of satī, which the text explicitly notes she did not perform.) She remained at her father's house. She performed the funeral rites.

Then, the Purāṇa says — and this is the turn at the centre of the story — by the power of the Ramā vow, Śobhana reached a divine charming city on the peak of the Mandara mountain.

The city was not what we expect to follow a death on a fast. It was excellent with innumerable qualities, adorned with large houses with golden pillars, gems, lapis lazuli, and beautiful crystals of different shapes. Gandharvas praised him. Celestial nymphs attended him. He sat on a throne. A very white umbrella was held over his head. Chowries were waved. He wore a crown and earrings, necklaces and bracelets.

The son-in-law who had died at sunrise, oppressed with hunger, having done nothing to deserve such reward beyond keeping a single fast at the cost of his life — that man was now a king of kings on the peak of the mountain at the centre of the universe.

In Mucukunda's city, a brāhmaṇa called Somaśarman left on pilgrimage. While he wandered, he encountered the city on Mandara. He saw Śobhana there — recognised him as the king's son-in-law — and approached.

Śobhana, knowing Somaśarman had come, quickly got up from his seat and saluted the best brāhmaṇa. He asked the news of his father-in-law's house, of his wife Candrabhāgā, of the city he had left when he died.

O king, Somaśarman said, there is well-being in your father's house. Candrabhāgā is all right. Everywhere in the city there is well-being. Tell me your own account. It is a great wonder. Such a wonderful and beautiful city has not been seen by anyone. How did you obtain this?

Śobhana answered. In the dark half of Kārtika falls the Ekādaśī called Ramā. Having fasted on that day, I have secured this unstable city.

The chapter trails off here, but the tradition continues the story: Somaśarman returns and tells Candrabhāgā what he saw. She, hearing it, sets out to join her husband. Her own observance of Ramā Ekādaśī through the years — performed faithfully — adds to his merit and stabilizes the city, which had been unstable (the text's word) when she heard about it. Together, on Mandara, they live in the permanence she completes for him.

The vow

Ramā Ekādaśī falls on the eleventh tithi of the dark fortnight of Kārtika — close to Dīvalī. The fast is broken on Dvādaśī. The observance is the standard one.

This Ekādaśī is observed by those who are weak — who fear they cannot keep the fast properly, who suspect their observance will be imperfect. Śobhana's example is the encouragement. He fasted reluctantly, in great pain, and at the end the fast itself probably hastened his death. And yet — the city he obtained was a city of gold.

The chapter is making a quiet promise to every imperfect observer: the merit is not in the perfection of the fast. The merit is in the keeping of the vow. Even a fast that ends in death yields the highest place.

The phalaśruti

By the power of the Ramā vow — even a single observance — the observer is given a city on the divine mountain.

The deeper teaching of Ramā Ekādaśī is the part that depends on what comes after Śobhana's story. He won the city alone. But it was unstable. It needed his wife's additional observance — her years of keeping the vow herself — to become permanent. Heaven, the chapter is suggesting, is not always something one wins alone. It is sometimes won by one person and stabilized by another. Śobhana fasted himself to death and got the keys. Candrabhāgā fasted on the same day, year after year, and made the lock hold. Together, in the texture of the practice, they made the city last.

Source: Padma Purāṇa, Uttara Khaṇḍa, Chapter 60, "Ramā Ekādaśī." Translated by N.A. Deshpande in Ancient Indian Tradition and Mythology series, vols. 39–48 (Motilal Banarsidass, Delhi, ISBN 9788120838291). The full English translation is freely available at wisdomlib.org.