King Vikram, undeterred as ever, went right back to the ancient tree, brought down the corpse and slung it over his shoulder. As he started moving towards the cremation ground, the Vetala spoke up once again. "O King, I feel sorry for you. I'm one of your well-wishers, but you don't seem to understand that. Why do you haunt me like this? It's not safe for you to be roaming in a cremation ground like this at night. Any ghoul or wild animal may harm you. Listen to me. Don't be adamant, return to your capital. Your travails remind me of Prabodh, who was caught in a similar dilemma as yours. An action that does not harm others and is done to take care of oneself is not selfishness. Prabodh faced many problems in life because he did not understand this. Listen to his story". And the Vetala narrated that story: Prabodh lived in the kingdom of Vaishalini. He was a marvellous artist and painted beautiful pictures. But, for some reason, his paintings did not get the recognition they deserved. He earned barely enough to feed his family. Prabodh felt very bad because for many days his wife and children did not have sufficient food to eat. At the same time, he could not change his vocation. After a lot of thinking, he got an idea. "Let me create a fabulous painting and take it to the crown prince", he decided. So he painted the picture of a beautiful damsel; it was his best work ever. He took it to the capital city of Vaishalini. There he tried to meet the prince, in vain. He was frustrated and felt that he was being chased by bad luck. That night Prabodh stayed in a lodge. When the other inmates saw his painting, they complimented him heartily. But Prabodh was unhappy that he could not meet the prince. Late that night, a young and handsome traveller walked into the lodge. He heard the other guests talk about the painting and was eager to see it. Prabodh was very happy to show it to him. The young man was charmed by the portrait of the woman. He gazed at it, fascinated, for some time. He also learnt from Prabodh that he had wished to meet the prince and had failed to get an audience. "You're very talented. Come with me and I'll take you to the prince", the young man told Prabodh. The artist, with a lot of hope, accepted the invitation and happily accompanied him.
When they reached the palace, the young man asked Prabodh to wait for sometime and went inside. Soon he returned, as a prince. It took some time for Prabodh to realise that the young man who had brought him to the palace was indeed the prince himself. He saluted him and said, "Forgive me, my lord! I didn't recognise you!" Prince Abhishikt laughed. "I often roam about in disguise to find out how things are going around in my kingdom. So you cannot be blamed for not recognising me! Now, as for the painting, I've fallen in love with the woman you have drawn. If you can tell me more about her and her whereabouts, I shall reward you with ten thousand gold coins". "My lord, I just drew her from my imagination. There's no such woman, actually", exclaimed Prabodh. But Abhishikt did not accept it. "Prabodh, I can look at a painting and say whether it is drawn from imagination or based on something real. I shall keep whatever information you give me about the woman, confidential. Come on, tell me", he insisted. Prabodh was in a dilemma and tried hard to convince the prince. "My lord, I speak the truth. It is just my imagination". Abhishikt now lost his temper. He called some soldiers and ordered, "Take this fool to the top of the mountain, behead him and throw the body into the valley". The soldiers took the artist to the summit of the mountain. Poor Prabodh was all along lamenting over his ill-luck. "My talent has let me down. I can't escape this injunction. What will happen to my poor wife and children?" The soldiers had hardly raised the sword to chop off his head when suddenly there appeared a strange woman before them. She stopped them with a horrified gesture and asked: "What're you doing? And why're you doing this?" "We're only obeying the prince's orders", answered the soldiers. Prabodh looked up at the woman. And he froze with surprise. "This is all because of you", he blurted out, almost inadvertently. The woman was stunned. "My name is Manimekhala and I am visible to men only if I wish. This is the first time you're seeing me and yet you say that I'm the cause of all your misery?" Prabodh explained all that had happened. Manimekhala's surprise knew no bounds. "Amazing!" she exclaimed. "But how could you paint an exact image of me?" "When you see the portrait I have drawn, you'll realise that I'm speaking the truth", insisted Prabodh. "I'll reward you handsomely if the woman in your portrait really looks like me", said Manimekhala. As Prabodh and Manimekhala started for the palace, the soldiers tried to stop them. "We've orders to chop off his head!" "Fools!" Manimekhala lashed out with contempt. "Are you trying to stop me? You don't know who I am. I curse you - become stones!" And the poor soldiers turned into stones. Manimekhala and Prabodh became invisible in a minute and were inside the palace in no time. Prince Abhishikt was surprised at Prabodh's sudden appearance in the palace. "How did you escape?" he asked sharply. Just then Manimekhala made herself visible to the prince, who stood happy and surprised. "Oh! So this is the lady in your painting? If only you had brought her to me much earlier, you wouldn't have suffered such miseries". Manimekhala interrupted. "Prince, may I see the painting?" Abhishikt sent for the painting. Manimekhala was stunned to see the mirror image of herself in the painting. "O Prince", she cried, "but this is the work of Prabodh's imagination. I'm a gandharva ( demigod) woman and I swear he has never seen me before". "I don't care whether you're a gandharva or human. I'm thrilled to have seen you. Will you marry me?" asked Abhishikt. "I'm sorry, I cannot marry you, O Prince", said Manimekhala. "But I shall keep my promise to Prabodh. I shall grant whatever he wishes for!" Abhishikt immediately turned to Prabodh. "Ask her to marry me! And I promise to make you a vassal and give you a kingdom". Manimekhala was quick to assure Prabodh, too. "If you want me to marry the prince, I shall certainly do so. Don't hesitate to tell me what you want". Prabodh folded his hands humbly. "O beautiful gandharva, I request you to give back those poor soldiers their human form". "So be it", Manimekhala smiled and vanished. Prabodh turned to Abhishikt with folded hands. "My lord, give me whatever punishment you wish to. I shall accept it without protest". But Abhishikt embraced the artist. "You're a great artist, Prabodh, and a unique person", he said. Loading him with gifts, Abhishikt sent him home. The Vetala stopped the narration and asked the King: "Poverty made Prabodh face many problems in life. It was his good luck that Manimekhala rescued him from the throes of death. And yet when she granted him a boon, he did not ask anything for himself. He only prayed for the life of the soldiers. Wasn't he a fool? And look at Abhishikt! He knew that Manimekhala would grant Prabodh whatever he wanted. And yet when Prabodh did not ask the gandharva woman to be the prince's wife, instead of punishing him, he praised his talents and sent him home with gifts. Abhishikt seems to have been a fickle-minded fellow, don't you think so? If you know the answers to these questions and yet choose to remain quiet, your head will break into a thousand little pieces!" King Vikram answered: "Abhishikt tempted Prabodh with the offer of a kingdom. But Prabodh did not take the bait. Instead, he pleaded for the life of the soldiers. He clearly wanted to earn his livelihood only with the help of his art. That is why he did not ask the gandharva for wealth or prosperity. Don't call him a fool. He was a sincere artist. As for Abhishikt, he learnt from Prabodh that Manimekhala had turned his soldiers to stones for no fault of theirs. After all they had only been obeying the orders of their prince! He realised that gandharvas and human beings had different perspectives and sense of values. That's why he gave up all thoughts of marrying her and did not get angry with Prabodh for not asking her to marry him". King Vikramaditya had once again broken his silence, and the Vetala with an eerie-pitched laughter slipped down from his shoulder and glided back to the ancient tree.
