The Weaver Who Passed Himself Off as Vishnu

In a certain city a weaver and a cartwright had been friends from boyhood — eating together, going about together. One day the city held a festival for its god. Players, dancers and bards gathered, and people came from far off. Wandering through the crowd, the two friends saw a princess ride past on an elephant, decked in every ornament.

The weaver looked at her and dropped where he stood, as though shot through by the god of love. His friend carried him home. Remedies were tried; he said nothing. Pressed hard, he finally choked out: "Friend, if I am to live I must have her; otherwise I die. Help me."

The cartwright laughed. "Friend, the thing is impossible — she is a king's daughter and lives in the inner palace. But watch what my wits can do." He built a wooden Garuda that would fly through the air when a peg was turned, and fashioned conch, discus, mace, crown and jewel besides.

That night the weaver dressed himself as Vishnu, rode the wooden Garuda, and came down through the window of the princess's chamber. Seeing that four-armed shape, she rose from her bed and bowed: "Lord, I am an impure girl of human birth; how can I be fit for you?" The weaver said: "Fair one, you were once Radha in the herdsmen's clan; that is why I have come." She believed him, and they were joined by a gandharva marriage. Every night he came, and every morning he left.

In time her maids noticed the signs on her body and told the king. He was alarmed, but his daughter said: "Father, Narayana himself comes to me at night; see for yourself if you doubt it." The king watched from hiding — and the shape came down out of the sky with conch, discus, mace and Garuda. The king thought himself blessed beyond measure: "Narayana is my son-in-law! The whole earth is mine now." And he began insulting the kings on his borders.

They combined and marched on him. Then the king said to his daughter: "Child, is the Lord silent even as my son-in-law? You must speak to him." That night she begged the weaver. The weaver panicked — then thought: "If this position goes, everything goes. To run is cowardice; to fight is death. Yet better to die for one's own place than for another's — to give one's life for cattle, for brahmins, for women, and for one's own ground is the ancient law." He said: "Tomorrow I shall stand in the sky and destroy them all; send out your army."

At dawn the king's forces marched, and the weaver rose into the air on his wooden Garuda, resolved to die. Then the Lord Narayana himself said to Garuda: "Do you know that a weaver goes to a princess in our shape? Today he goes out to die in war under our name. If he is killed, the world will say Vishnu and Garuda were beaten by their enemies, and men will abandon our worship. So enter the wooden bird; I shall enter the weaver's body."

And so it was done. With the Lord in the weaver's body and Garuda in the wooden bird, the entire enemy army was destroyed in a moment. The victorious weaver became an object of reverence to king and people, ruled long and happily with the princess — and men's faith in their god was left firmer than before.

Having told the story, Damanaka said: "You see? Handled rightly, even a deception carries a man across."

सुगृहीतस्यापि दम्भस्य ब्रह्माप्यन्तं न गच्छति । कौलिको विष्णुरूपेण राजकन्यां निषेवते ॥

Moral: Not even Brahma can get to the bottom of a deception well kept up — a weaver in the form of Vishnu won himself a princess.

From the Panchatantra, Book I — The Loss of Friends.