Reading about multiple cases of men killing their wives in domestic disputes made me think of the story of King Bhunandana and the penances he did to find his love. King Bhunandana ruled over Kashmir and, the story goes, kept his subjects happy. One day, he dreamt of a beautiful daitya maiden approaching him and promptly fell in love with her. When he awoke, much to his disappointment, he could not see her anymore. He tried focusing on his duties, but found his longing for the maiden in his dreams growing more excruciating by the day. And so he decided to give up his kingdom and instead perform penance to obtain her.
Twelve years passed, when the king performed rigorous austerities, driven only by single-minded determination, when an ascetic appeared with his disciples, telling the king that the woman he had fallen in love with lived in Patala, the netherworld below, and that the ascetic would take him there. After a few long days passed in journey, they reached a Shiva temple, where they all offered worship. They went on to a place where they saw a grand jambu tree with ripe fruits, and were tempted to eat them, but the ascetic warned them against it. One disciple disobeyed, and as a result, he became motionless – thereby acting as a cautionary tale for the others, who abstained from the fruit. As they went on, they reached a grand palace with many dangers that the ascetic was able to help them avoid. Then, many daitya female attendants appeared, inviting each of the guests to their mistresses’ chambers, and the king Bhunandana was led away to the beloved of his dreams. Before they went away, however, the ascetic had one final warning – “No one must disobey his beloved in her palace.”
The king had a pleasant reunion with his beloved, whose name was Kumudini, this time while fully awake, and everything was going wonderfully until he was bathed and dressed in fine robes, and sat down at the edge of a tank to drink with the maiden – and he noticed that the tank was filled not just with wine, but with the blood of corpses. She handed him a goblet that she filled with the same liquid for him to drink. He refused to drink it, despite her warnings that no good would come of his refusal. Angrily, she emptied the goblet on his head. The king’s eyes closed, as her maids took him to another tank and immersed him in it, at which point he found himself back at the grove where he had performed penance for twelve years.
Funnily enough, he found that his head, upon which she had emptied the contents of the goblet, smelt not of corpses but of a divine fragrance, which meant that it had all been a test that he had failed. Bees surrounded him because of the unusual fragrance, and he had to put up with being stung repeatedly. He was ready to commit suicide at the thought of having lost his beloved again, but a hermit convinced him to perform penance once more, and thankfully, gifted him a bee-repellent antelope skin. After another twelve years of intense penance, Kumudini came to him of her own accord, and they went back to Patala together to live happily ever after.
The skeptics, of course, will raise all their objections now. What king would abandon his royal luxuries to perform such austerities for some fun with a woman he had only seen in his dreams, not even a human but a daitya maiden who does weird things to test his love? And the author of the Kathasaritsagara would likely ask us in turn – Don’t you have men and women in your own time who put both personal and professional lives on the line for some fun, like the couple at the Coldplay concert?