अथ एनम् वसत्या उपमन्त्रयां चक्रे अनादृत्य वसतिं कुमारः प्रदुद्राव सः आजगाम पितरम् तम् ह उवाच इति वाव किल नो भवान् पुरानुशिष्टान् अवोच इति कथम् सुमेध इति पञ्च मा प्रश्नान् राजन्यबन्धुर् अप्राक्षीत् ततः न एकं चन वेद इति कतमे ते इति इमे इति ह प्रतीकान्य् उदाजहार
atha enam vasatyā upamantrayāṃ cakre anādṛtya vasatiṃ kumāraḥ pradudrāva saḥ ājagāma pitaram tam ha uvāca iti vāva kila no bhavān purānuśiṣṭān avoca iti katham sumedha iti pañca mā praśnān rājanyabandhur aprākṣīt tataḥ na ekaṃ cana veda iti katame te iti ime iti ha pratīkāny udājahāra
The king invited him to stay; the young man, slighting the invitation, ran away. He came to his father and said: "And yet you told me before that I had been taught!" — "How so, my clever one?" — "Five questions a man of royal blood asked me — and not one of them do I know." — "Which?" — "These," and he repeated the openings.
d48ec15ae6af · publicado 27 jul 2026, 1:25:01 UTC
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The liveliest of scenes: the shamed youth "slighted the hospitality and ran away" (pradudrāva!) — pride would not spend the night under the victor's roof. And then a domestic squabble: "you said I had been taught!" — the son blames his father, as every beaten pupil blames his school.
The father's "how so, my clever one?" (sumedhāḥ — with affectionate irony) is followed by a businesslike inquiry: which questions? repeat the openings. Uddālaka neither excuses himself nor consoles — he goes straight to work: where exactly did our knowledge end? The dignity of a real teacher is in this instant turn from offence to business.