Once upon a time, in the ancient kingdom ruled by King Dashrath, a profound lesson in the nature of reality unfolded — a lesson that resonates deeply within the teachings of Vedanta philosophy. One night, the king drifted into a deep sleep, only to find himself caught in a vivid and painful dream.
In this dream, another king—fierce and merciless—invaded Dashrath’s realm. The invader slaughtered his soldiers, seized his wealth, and cruelly took away his queen. Stripped of his throne and dignity, King Dashrath was cast out, forbidden even to receive food or shelter from his own people. A profound anguish filled him. His body ached with hunger, his spirit was heavy with despair. He wept bitterly, questioning the injustice of his fate: “Why is this happening to me?”
Days passed, and as hunger gnawed deeper, the king, weak and desperate, wandered until he found a temple where food was being distributed. With trembling hands, he pleaded with a man there, “Brother, I have not eaten for many days. Please, give me something to eat.” The man regretfully replied, “All the food is finished.” Clinging to hope, Dashrath begged, “Please, anything— even just the water from boiled rice.” Compassionately, the man handed him a pot filled with rice water.
But fate was not kind. At that moment, a crow swooped down, startling the king, and the pot slipped from his hands, shattering on the ground. Overwhelmed by grief and shock, King Dashrath cried out, “What are you doing to me? Why must I suffer so?”
It was then that he awoke. He looked around and found himself safely within his palace walls. The vivid agony of the dream lingered, and he whispered to himself in Hindi, “Ye sach hai ya vo sach hai?” — “Is this real, or is that real?”
As the king sat puzzled, a soldier entered. Concerned, he asked, “Your Majesty, what has happened?” The king repeated his haunting question: “Is this real, or that real?” Bewildered, the soldier summoned the queen, ministers, and physicians, yet no one could understand the king’s distress. Word of his strange behavior spread quickly through the kingdom, and the people began to mock their sovereign, whispering, “The king has lost his mind.”
It was at this moment that Yogi Ashtavakra, the king’s spiritual teacher and guide, passed through the bustling market. Hearing the rumors, he was compelled to visit the palace. Requesting an audience, he was granted entry to see King Dashrath.
“My dear disciple,” Ashtavakra began gently, “what troubles your heart?”
The king responded with the same question that haunted him, “Is this real, or that real?”
The yogi smiled, and with the calm assurance of one who has seen beyond illusion, he replied, “Neither this nor that is real. Only you are real.”
Intrigued and confused, the king urged him to explain.
“King Dashrath,” Ashtavakra said, “what you experienced—the dream, your suffering, your joy—all these are phenomena arising in consciousness. When you were dreaming, you were aware. When you are awake, you are aware. Even in deep sleep, when there are no dreams or thoughts, awareness persists, untouched and serene.”
He continued, “That awareness — pure, unchanging consciousness — is the only true reality. All else: the dream, the waking world, the fleeting experiences of pleasure and pain — are transient and ultimately unreal. They come and go like waves on the ocean, but the ocean itself remains steady and vast.”
Ashtavakra’s words opened the king’s eyes beyond the veil of illusion. The torment of his dream, the mockery of his people, even the grandeur of his palace — none of it could disturb the timeless reality of his own consciousness.
This story from Vedanta philosophy teaches us a timeless truth: what we often take as reality—our fears, our desires, our pain—is like a dream, ephemeral and passing. The true self, the pure awareness that witnesses all, is beyond birth and death, beyond joy and sorrow.
King Dashrath’s night of suffering became a profound awakening. His quest for truth took him beyond the fleeting shadows of the world to the luminous core of existence itself.
If we pause and reflect on this tale, we realize that much of our suffering arises because we confuse transient experiences with lasting reality. Like King Dashrath, we may wake up one day to question: what is truly real? And like Yogi Ashtavakra, we find the answer not in the outer world, but within — in the silent awareness that witnesses every moment without attachment or fear.
May this ancient story inspire us to look beyond illusions, to embrace the peace of pure awareness, and to live each day with the clarity of true understanding.
