The Vetala's Riddles - Consciousness Playing All Roles

Rama expressed his confusion: "O Sage, I can accept that all is consciousness intellectually. But when I look around, I see so many beings, each with their own desires, fears, and agendas. How can one consciousness appear as all these conflicting wills? Does it argue with itself?"

Vasishtha chuckled: "Your question reminds me of the vetala stories. Do you know of King Vikramaditya and the vetala who posed riddles?"

"I have heard tales of a spirit who challenged the king with puzzles."

"The vetala would tell stories and then ask: 'Who is truly the doer? Who is the experiencer? Who is responsible?' These were not mere puzzles—they were teachings on the nature of consciousness. Let me share one."

Rama nodded eagerly.

Vasishtha narrated: "A man dreams he is a king. In that dream, the king orders an execution. The prisoner is killed. The king wakes up, disturbed. The vetala asks: 'Who killed the prisoner? The dreamer who projected the entire dream? The dream-king who gave the order? The dream-executioner who swung the sword? The dream-prisoner who appeared to die? All were projections of one sleeping consciousness. Yet within the dream, each seemed to have independent agency. Who, then, is the killer?'"

Rama thought carefully: "The dreamer, I suppose. He created all the characters."

"But did the dreamer intend to kill anyone? He merely fell asleep. The drama unfolded on its own. Is he responsible for what he did not consciously choose?"

Rama hesitated: "Perhaps... no one killed anyone. It was all imagination."

Vasishtha nodded: "And this is the teaching. In the grand dream of existence, consciousness appears as murderer and victim, saint and sinner, lover and beloved. From within the dream, these roles seem opposed. From the perspective of the dreamer, they are all expressions of one creative power, no more in conflict than characters in a play."

"But real suffering seems different from dream suffering!"

"The vetala posed another riddle: 'A man dreams of a fire. In the dream, he burns. He wakes up sweating, heart pounding. Was the burning real? He has no physical marks, yet his body reacted as if to real fire. Where is the boundary between real and unreal suffering?'"

Rama considered: "The fear was real. The sensation was experienced. Even if the fire was unreal..."

"Precisely. The experience was real; the object of experience was not. Now apply this to waking life. All your sufferings are experienced—they are real as experiences. But the 'separate self' who suffers, the 'other' who causes suffering—these are as imaginary as the dream-fire. You experience suffering; there is no sufferer."

"This seems cold comfort!"

Vasishtha smiled gently: "At first, yes. But consider: if there is no sufferer, suffering has no anchor. It arises and passes like weather. The vetala's final riddle was this: 'Who is bound? Who is free? If consciousness is one, and plays all roles, can it ever truly be bound? Can the actor become imprisoned by his costume?'"

Rama saw a glimmer: "The actor knows he is acting. He is never truly the character."

"And when consciousness 'forgets' it is playing all roles—this forgetting is also part of the play. The vetala concluded: 'There is no bondage except the belief in bondage. There is no liberation except the recognition that liberation was never lost. All the drama of suffering and seeking is consciousness playing hide-and-seek with itself.'"

Rama asked: "Then what should I do with my apparent conflicts, my desires that seem to oppose others' desires?"

Vasishtha answered: "Play your role fully, but hold it lightly. Be Rama completely—love completely, act completely—but never forget that you are also the consciousness playing all the other roles. When you remember this, conflict dissolves not because you stop acting, but because you stop believing your character is the only real one."

Rama reflected: "So consciousness argues with itself, loves itself, hurts itself—all as a play?"

Vasishtha concluded: "A play so convincing that the actors forget they are acting. And the moment of remembering—that is liberation. The vetala always returned to the same truth: there is only One, playing at being many, for the sheer joy of the game."