One of the oldest and most beautiful stories inserted in the Mahabharata is the Nalopakhyana, or "Episode of Nala." It is one of the least corrupted of the episodes, its great popularity having prevented the transforming hand of an editor from introducing Çiva and Vishnu, or from effacing the simplicity of the manners it depicts--the prince, for instance, cooks his own food--or from changing the character of Indra, and other old traits. The poem is pervaded by a high tone of morality, manifested above all in the heroic devotion and fidelity of Damayanti, its leading character. It also contains many passages distinguished by tender pathos.
The story is told by the wise Brihadaçva to the exiled Yudhishthira, in order to console him for the loss of the kingdom he has forfeited at play. Nala, prince of Nishada, chosen from among many competitors for her hand by Damayanti, princess of Vidarbha, passes several years of happy married life with her. Then, possessed by the demon Kali, and indulging in gambling, he loses his kingdom and all his possessions. Wandering half naked in the forest with Damayanti, he abandons her in his frenzy. Very pathetic is the scene describing how he repeatedly returns to the spot where his wife lies asleep on the ground before he finally deserts her. Equally touching are the accounts of her terror on awaking to find herself alone in the forest, and of her lamentations as she roams in search of her husband, and calls out to him--
Hero, valiant, knowing duty, To honour faithful, lord of earth, If thou art within this forest, Then show thee in thy proper form. Shall I hear the voice of Nala, Sweet as the draught of Amrita, With its deep and gentle accent, Like rumble of the thunder-cloud, Saying "Daughter of Vidarbha!" To me with clear and blessed sound. Rich, like Vedas murmured flowing, At once destroying all my grief?
There are graphic descriptions of the beauties and terrors of the tropical forest in which Damayanti wanders. At last she finds her way back to her father's court at Kundina Many and striking are the similes with which the poet dwells on the grief and wasted form of the princess in her separation from her husband. She is
Like the young moon's slender crescent Obscured by black clouds in the sky; Like the lotus-flower uprooted, All parched and withered by the sun; Like the pallid night, when Rahu Has swallowed up the darkened moon.