Once, there was a king named Arishtanemi, a just, efficient, and righteous ruler. When he grew old, he handed over his royal duties to his son and went to Gandhamadana Parvata to perform tapas. There, he observed severe austerities.
Indra, impressed by Arishtanemi’s merits, called a messenger and said, 'Take this chariot, along with apsaras and Gandharvas, and bring Arishtanemi to Swargaloka with music and dance. He deserves Swargaloka for his meritorious deeds.'
The deva duta approached Arishtanemi and explained the purpose of his visit. Arishtanemi thanked him and asked, 'What is there in Swargaloka?' Curious to know firsthand, he wanted details from someone coming directly from Swargaloka.
The messenger explained, 'Swarga offers all kinds of pleasures. According to the good deeds one has performed on earth, one enjoys in heaven. However, there are gradations. The most meritorious enjoy the highest pleasures, while others have lesser levels. Swarga is divided into upper, middle, and lower levels, like first-class, business class, and economy class travel, or luxury hotels with presidential suites, deluxe rooms, and standard rooms. You don't pay for these; your earthly deeds assign your level.
'But everything on earth exists in Swarga too. Those in the lower level feel jealous of those in the middle and upper levels. The middle level envies the upper level and looks down on the lower. The upper level prides itself on being above the rest, focusing more on comparisons than on their own enjoyment. Within each level, there is jealousy, competition, gossip, and bad-mouthing.
'After exhausting the merits earned, when one’s balance becomes zero, they return to earth to take another birth.'
After listening, Arishtanemi said, 'No, I don’t want to go there.' The deva duta returned with an empty chariot.
Arishtanemi understood that Swarga is only a temporary stay, like a resort vacation, after which one must return to earthly life. He realized it was unwise to focus on temporary gains. Just as one wouldn’t discard a railway pass for a short business-class flight or offend a rickshaw driver for a few days of chauffeur-driven luxury, Arishtanemi saw through the fleeting nature of Swarga’s pleasures.
His intelligence lies in evaluating the long-term consequences of actions. While we meticulously plan financial investments and analyze risks for a future spanning decades, how often do we think about the real future—the one beyond this life?
Are we investing in good deeds for countless births to come? Do we act with that future in mind? Do we even consider it?
Arishtanemi did. He contemplated the pros and cons of heavenly pleasures and rejected them, deeming them a waste of time. How many of us think about the true purpose of life? Are we engrossed in trivialities—blood sugar levels, calorie counting, stock charts, cricket match strategies—while ignoring what really matters?
If you consider yourself wise, pause and reflect. Reassess your life, not for the next 30, 40, or 50 years, but for your real future. What have you done to prepare for it? How are you ensuring a better existence in the lives yet to come?
