A Life of Violence and Ignorance
In the remote outskirts of a dense forest, there lived a hunter. Hardened by years of killing, his life was steeped in cruelty and devoid of compassion. He hunted animals relentlessly, seeking food and gain, with no regard for dharma or virtue. Scriptures, saints, or sacred days held no meaning for him. His heart was darkened by violence, and his mind, clouded by instinct and survival.
The Sacred Day Arrives
One morning, the sun rose upon an Ekādaśī—the sacred eleventh day of the waxing moon, beloved of Lord Viṣṇu and renowned for its power to purify even the most grievous sins. Yet the hunter, unaware of the day’s divine significance, picked up his bow and set out into the forest, as he had done countless times before.
But something was different. No animals appeared. Birds flew high, deer stayed hidden, and the forest was strangely silent. Hunger gnawed at him, and thirst parched his throat as the sun climbed higher in the sky. Still empty-handed, he wandered deep into the forest until he stumbled upon the banks of a sacred river.
The Unknowing Bath
There, sages and brāhmaṇas were assembled, observing the Ekādaśī fast and bathing in the river with prayers and mantras. The air was charged with purity and devotion. The hunter, ignorant of their intentions, approached only to cool his exhausted body and quench his thirst.
He stepped into the river. As he submerged himself in the cooling water, droplets from the sages’ own sacred baths splashed upon him. Unaware, he had bathed on Ekādaśī—in a holy river and in the association of Vaiṣṇavas. Without intending to, he had performed one of the most purifying acts in all of dharma.
