Yoga Vashishtha 3.106.12–24
(A hard outer journey that mirrors an inner one)
राजोवाच।
ज्ञस्येव विततं चेतो मूर्खस्येव रुषाऽजवम्।
अदृष्टजनसंसर्गमजाततृणपल्लवम् ॥ १२॥
अरण्यमिदमासाद्य मतिर्मे खेदमागता।
ललनेवैत्य दारिद्र्यं निरन्नफलबान्धवम् ॥ १३॥
कचन्मरुमरीच्यम्बुपुरःप्लुतककुम्मुखम्।
आसूर्यास्तं दिनं तत्र प्रक्रान्तं सीदता मया ॥ १४॥
तदरण्यं मयातीतमतिकृच्छ्रेण खेदिना।
विवेकिनेव संसारो मध्यशून्यतताकृति ॥ १५॥
यदेतेनातिवाह्याहं प्राप्तवाञ्जङ्गलं क्रमात्।
अस्ताद्रिसानुं खिन्नाश्वः शून्यभ्रान्त्येवभास्करः ॥ १६॥
जम्बूकदम्बप्रायेषु कलालापाः पतत्रिणः।
यत्र स्फुरन्ति खण्डेषु पान्थानामिव बान्धवाः ॥ १७॥
यत्र शष्पशिखाश्रेण्यो दृश्यन्ते विरलाः स्थले।
कदर्थलक्ष्म्या जिह्मस्य हृदीवानन्दवृत्तयः ॥ १८॥
पूर्वादरण्यादरसात्तद्धि किंचित्सुखावहम्।
अत्यन्तदुःखान्मरणाद्वरं व्याधिर्हि जन्तुषु ॥ १९॥
तत्र जम्बीरखण्डस्य तलं संप्राप्तवानहम्।
मार्कण्डेय इवागेन्द्रमेकार्णवविहारतः ॥ २०॥
आलम्बिता मया तत्र स्कन्धसंसर्गिणी लता।
नीला जलदमालेव तापतप्तेन भूभृता ॥ २१॥
मयि प्रलम्बमानेऽस्यां प्रयातः स तुरङ्गमः।
गङ्गावलम्बिनि नरे यथा दुष्कृतसंचयः ॥ २२॥
चिरं दीर्घाध्वगः खिन्नस्तत्र विश्रान्तवानहम्।
भानुरस्ताचलोत्सङ्गे तले कल्पतरोरिव ॥ २३॥
यावत्समस्तसंसारव्यवहारभरैः समम्।
रविर्विश्रमणायेव निविष्टोऽस्ताचलाङ्गणे ॥ २४॥
The King said:
3.106.12–24
> My mind felt wide like that of a wise person, yet restless with anger like that of a fool. I had come to a forest never seen by people, without human contact, and without even grass or young leaves.
> Reaching this forest, my mind grew weary and sad. It felt like a woman falling into poverty, with no food, no fruit, and no relatives.
> The directions ahead shimmered with the water of desert mirages. Suffering there, I spent the whole day until the Sun set.
> With great hardship and exhaustion I crossed that forest. It was like the world crossed by a person of discrimination: empty and hollow in the middle.
> After passing that place I gradually reached a wilderness. I was like the Sun arriving at the peak of the western mountain with tired horses, wandering as if in emptiness.
> In groves of jambu and kadamba trees, birds with sweet calls shone in the patches of forest, like companions appearing to weary travelers.
> Sparse rows of grass tips were seen on the ground, like rare moments of joy in the heart of a crooked person whose fortune is wretched.
> Compared with the earlier tasteless forest, this place brought a little comfort. For living Beings, even illness is better than the extreme pain of death.
> There I reached the ground beneath a cluster of jambu trees, like Markandeya reaching a great mountain after wandering across the single Ocean.
> I clung to a creeper growing from the trunk of a tree, as a heat-scorched mountain clings to a dark garland of clouds.
> While I hung there, the horse went away, just as a heap of sins leaves a person who clings to the Ganga.
> Tired after a long road, I rested there for a while, like the Sun resting in the lap of the western mountain at the base of a wish-fulfilling tree.
> Meanwhile the Sun, as if to rest from the full burden of all worldly activity, settled in the courtyard of the western mountain.
Summary of the verses:
The verses show a hard outer journey that mirrors an inner one. A barren, waterless forest stands for a mind and a world that look wide yet give no real support. Anger, loneliness, hunger, and mirage-water describe how restlessness and false hopes keep a person moving without rest. Crossing that waste with difficulty points to viveka: seeing that ordinary life is hollow in the middle even while it appears solid at the edges.
A slightly greener wilderness then appears. Sparse grass, a few trees, and the calls of birds are only small reliefs, yet they feel better than the earlier emptiness. The teaching is practical: even limited ease is preferable to total despair, just as illness can be better than death. The traveler does not stop at the first comfort; he still seeks a firmer place to rest.
Reaching the shade of jambu trees and holding a creeper is an image of taking support that is itself unstable. The horse that leaves while the traveler hangs on the vine shows how outer supports and past actions drop away once a person turns toward a higher refuge. The comparison with sins leaving a person who holds the Ganga suggests that genuine rest begins when clinging to the world is replaced by clinging to something that can actually hold.
Rest under the tree at sunset is the first true pause. The Sun itself, carrying the whole day’s work, also settles. The picture teaches that both the individual mind and the apparent activity of the world share the same rhythm of effort and needed stillness. Rest is not escape; it is the natural close of a cycle of strain.
Taken together the verses quietly point to the larger Yoga-Vasistha view: the forest of samsara can be crossed, small comforts are real but temporary, and lasting ease comes only when the traveler stops running after mirages and sits still. Discrimination, endurance, and the willingness to let go of what cannot stay are the inner counterparts of the outer march from waste land to shade.