The
gods once decided to churn out amrita from the primeval waters. Amrita is
celestial nectar, containing the essence of all life. Anyone who drinks it
becomes Immortal, living as long the cosmos itself. The gods wanted it
desperately.
The
waters stretched into infinity; to churn it, the gods erected a fabulous
machine. Its base was Akupara, the divine turtle. On its back was placed Mount
Mandara, the celestial axis which was used as the churning staff around which
Sesha, the serpent of eternity, coiled itself.
The
Adityas and Daityas, gods of light and darkness, pulled the serpent's tail and
neck and spun the churning staff, first one way, then the other. As a result,
the waters began to twist and twirl, slowly at first but then faster and
faster. Foam gathered at the base of the mountain, and the waters began to
curdle.
The
gods checked the waters for the first signs of amrita. But to their dismay what
first appeared on the froth-laden surface was dark and sticky, a viscid scum
emitting caustic fumes; it was the dreaded poison: halahal! The poison began to
spread all around, contaminating the waters and polluting the air. Sesha began
to retch; Akupara lost control of his bowels. All the gods became sick, too
weak even to cry for help; the very existence of the cosmos was at stake.
Just
then Shiva appeared on the scene. He scooped up the lethal fluid and drank it
as if it were sweet wine.
Parvati,
fearing for Shiva, caught hold of his neck and stopped the poison from entering
his body. The poison remained within Shiva's throat. It seeped into the skin of
his neck, turning it blue.
Shiva's
actions had saved the cosmos. With the poison gone, the air became fresh and
the ocean became clear. The gods recovered their strength and resumed the
churning.
When
the amrita finally appeared, the gods drank it greedily. Then they remembered
the terrible halahal. It dawned on them how their desire for eternal life had
very nearly destroyed the cosmos.
They
thanked Shiva for his timely help. To commemorate this great event, Vishnu gave
Shiva a new name: Neelakantha, he-who-has-a-blue-neck.
Once,
Parvati in the spirit of play covered Shiva's eyes with her hands. The moment
she did this, the whole world was plunged in darkness. Shiva's eyes contained
the power of the sun. They had been shut out by Parvati.
"Save
us!" cried the gods, the demons, the humans. Without the sun, the cosmos
was doomed.
So
Shiva opened his third eye, and through it released his energies.
The
sun shone bright once more.
Bhagirath,
prince of the Ikshavaku clan, came across a heap of ash. From it arose the
lamentations of 60,000 youths. Their mournful sobs disturbed the gentle prince.
"Who are these people?" he asked his grandfather, the wise Anshuman.
Anshuman
told him the tragic tale of Sagar's 60,000 sons. "Long ago my grandfather,
king Sagar, ruled this land. Envious of his growing power, Indra, king of the
heavens, stole his horse. My uncles found it in the hermitage of the sage
Kapila. They accused the hermit of theft, just as lndra hoped they would.
Outraged by this accusation, Kapila conjured up his magical powers and burnt my
uncles to death. As they were killed before their time, their souls were
trapped in the twilight zone between life and after life."
"Is
there any hope for them at all?" asked Bhagirath.
"Yes,
but an impossible one. If their ashes can be cast in the Ganga, the heavenly
river, they can move on to their next life. But Indra will not let us ascend
into the heavens and Ganga will never come down to earth. So our ancestors are
doomed to suffer for eternity."
"Not
if I can help it. I will make Ganga come down," swore Bhagirath
Bhagirath
walked out of his palace and became an ascetic. He tried to appease the gods
with the practice of terrible austerities. His tapas, which included a hundred
years of starvation and abstinence, forced Indra to let Ganga descend from the
heavens.
When
Ganga heard about this she laughed contemptuously. "My fall from the
heavens will break the very foundations of earth," she said, "The
cities, the jungles, even the hills will be washed away by the force of my
waters."
Disturbed
by Ganga's pride, Brahma told Bhagirath to approach Shiva. "He is the
great Kapardin-Jatadhari, bearer-of-a-dense-coiffure. With his locks, matted
with banyan juice, he will capture this great river just as a cowherd ropes in
an errant bull."
Bhagirath
prayed to Shiva. "Can you help, great lord?"
Shiva
said, "Let the vain Ganga leap from the heavens. I will stem her flow, and
crush her pride."
Shiva
stood on Mount Mandara, the cosmic axis, arms akimbo. He looked towards the
heavens, ready to capture its river. Everybody gathered round him to witness
the spectacle: gods, demons, humans, birds and beasts.
Ganga
dived from her celestial abode with the force of a hundred thousand ocean
currents. The sound was deafening. It seemed that Ganga planned to wash away
the whole earth. The world trembled in anticipation . . .
Ganga
fell right on top of Shiva's head. She hoped to split his skull with her fall.
Instead she found herself getting entangled in his thick hair. The matted curls
and dense knots trapped her waters, firmly restraining her flow. Chained by
Shiva's tresses, the river-shrew Ganga finally emerged out of Shiva's topknot,
not as a gush but as a mere trickle that gently moved towards the sea,
fertilizing the earth on its way.
Bhagirath
cast the ashes of his ancestors in the heavenly river. They arose as spirits
and before moving on to their next life they gave Shiva the suitable name of
Gangadhar, he-who-holds-the-mighty-Ganges.
Ganga
became Shiva's second wife.
Even
today people cast the ashes of their ancestors in the Ganga in the hope of
making a safe journey into the next life.
The
gods once sat before Brahma boasting of their prowess. "I can burn the
ocean with my flames," said Agni, the fire-god. "I can blow away the
mountains with my gales," said Vayu, the wind-god. And Indra, king of the
gods, wielder of the thunderbolt said, "I can crush all the demons with my
weapon, the vajra."
Brahma
was dismayed by the arrogance of his sons.
Suddenly
there appeared on the scene a yaksha. He held a blade of grass in his hand.
"Can any of you get rid of this blade of grass?" he asked. Agni spat
fire; he hissed and crackled, but found to his astonishment that the grass
remained unsigned. Vayu huffed and puffed, and generated a blizzard, but the
blade of grass refused to budge. Indra swung his vajra and hurled his
thunderbolt, but the blade of grass remained as it was. 54 "What is
meaning of this?" asked the gods.
‘"It
means that beyond every great power there is one greater," replied the
yaksha.
'Who
says so?"
"Shiva."
The
yaksha disappeared and there was silence. Agni and Vayu, humbled by the event,
hung their heads in shame. But Indra was not amused. "Who does this Shiva
think he is?" Indra grabbed his vajra and moved to Kailas to teach Shiva a
lesson.
He
saw before him a naked ascetic, an avadhut. "Where is Shiva?" asked
Indra.
"I
am he," replied the ascetic calmly.
"You
have the impertinence to teach me, the king of the gods, a lesson."
Shiva
didn't reply.
His
silence enraged Indra. He raised his vajra to strike him. Shiva opened his
third eye. Brahma realised what was about to happen. "Stop!" he
cried, begging Shiva not to harm Indra. "Don't kill Indra. He is leader of
the gods; without him the balance of the cosmos will be lost."
So
Shiva cast his fire into the ocean.
"Indra
will soon meet his match and his pride will be crushed, said Shiva. He will
realise that bragging doesn't win battles."
No
sooner was he born than he became leader of the demons. He led them in battle
against the gods and won a great victory. Indra was totally humiliated, beaten
and bruised into submission and driven out of the heavens. He was deprived of
his throne, his palace, his wealth, his power and his vajra was snatched away.
Indra
went to Brahma for help. "How can I defeat Jalandhara?" he asked.
"You
can't. Only Shiva can, "replied the wise creator.
Indra
remembered and regretted the arrogance he had displayed not long ago.
"Will Shiva help someone who insulted him?" he wondered.
"Shiva
never bears a grudge."
Jalandhara,
like Indra before him, declared, "I am the greatest warrior of the world."
"No,
you are not. Not until you defeat Shiva," said Indra.
"Who
is this Shiva?" asked Jalandhara.
"A
hermit."
Jalandhara
laughed and rushed to Kailas to fight Shiva. Shiva smiled and marked out a
circle on the ground with his big toe. "I will fight only if you can carry
this piece of earth on your head."
"Yes!
I can," boasted Jalandhara. He ripped out that ground marked by Shiva and
placed it on his head. "See, I can do it."
Suddenly
the circular piece of earth on Jalandhara's head began to whir like a discus
and grow in size. Before he could say another word it became so big and spun so
violently that it cracked his skull and broke his spine.
As
Jalandhara gasped for his last breath he heard Shiva say, "I carry the
moon on my head, and you cannot even carry a small piece of earth. Whatever
made you think you are the strongest being in the cosmos?"
Shiva
once consumed pots of bhang and lost his good sense to intoxicated dreams. In
that state he gave a demon called Bhasmaka the power to kill any creature by
his mere touch.
The
demon decided to test this power on Shiva himself. He moved his hands
menacingly towards Shiva.
Shiva,
shaken out of his drunken state, got up and ran. The whole cosmos witnessed the
spectacle: Shiva being chased by Bhasmaka. They would have laughed had they not
realised the seriousness of the situation: Shiva's destruction would lead to
cosmic annihilation.
Shiva
rushed to Vishnu. "Help me!" he cried.
"I
will," promised the cosmic saviour. Taking the form of the ravishing
damsel, Mohini, Vishnu appeared before Bhasmaka. Looking at her, the demon
forgot about Shiva. "May I embrace you?" he asked.
Mohini
looked into his eyes and said, "Only if you dance with me."
Mohini
started to dance and Bhasmaka imitated all her movements.
When
she put her left foot forward, he did the same. Then she placed her right hand
on her navel, he did the same. Finally when she placed her hands on top of her
head, he did the same. With that Bhasmaka's own body burst into flames.
Vishnu
had saved Shiva's life; for that Shiva was most grateful.
Shukra
practised terrible austerities to learn the science of immortality.
"There
is no such science. All that is born must die," said Shiva.
"Then
teach me the science of rejuvenation, Sanjivani Vidya, that can cure any
disease and treat any wound."
Shiva,
master of all herbs, lord of every medicine, taught the science to Shukra.
Shukra
became the preceptor of the demons. Using his knowledge he was able to revive
and restore to health all those who were wounded in battle against the gods.
Consequently, the demons never suffered any casualties in war.
Brahma
complained to Shiva, "Shukra disturbs the cosmic balance by reviving
demons who have fallen in celestial battles. Do something. Stop him! Kill
him!"
"I
will stop him, there is no need to kill him," said Shiva.
The
next time the gods and demons fought, a strange creature appeared on the
horizon. It was an ogress called Kritya, a Shiva-gana. She sucked Shukra into
her body. There he remained in an unborn state, unable to use his magic in
favour of the demons. As a result, the battle of the gods and demons was fought
fairly.
Brahma
looked at Shukra locked in Kritya's womb and smiled at Shiva's ingenuity . . .
only Mahakala could deprive a creature of life without actually killing him!
Three
demons once built three flying cities, tripura. On their flying cities the
demons went everywhere, with their armies and their families; no mountain was
too high, no ocean was too vast. Like falcons they swooped down upon cities to
rape, plunder and terrorise the cosmos. They seemed unstoppable.
"They
must be destroyed," said the gods.
"But
how?" wondered Indra.
"Only
with a single arrow!" informed Brahma, repository of all knowledge.
"But
that is impossible," they complained, "No hunter can ever shoot two
birds with a single arrow, let alone three flying cities?"
"It
is not impossible if one has the right archer, wielding the right bow and
arrow, riding the right chariot," said Vishnu. Everybody knew he was
talking about Shiva, who is also known as Sharva, the cosmic archer.
"He
can do it," they all agreed.
"But
only if the three cities align themselves in a straight path," reminded
Indra.
"Don't
worry," said Vishnu reassuringly, "I have charted the course of the
three cities and I know that very soon they will fall in a single line, but
only for a moment. If at that exact moment, Shiva shoots the arrow, they will
surely be destroyed."
"If
anyone can do it, he can," said Brahma.
The
gods rejoiced and got to work instantly.
First
they used all their energies to assemble an appropriate war chariot: the earth
itself, with the sun and moon serving as its wheels. Brahma was its charioteer
and the stars its horses.
They
then made the bow: Meru, king of the mountains, served as the shaft while
Vasuki, king of the serpents, became the string. Its twang resounded across the
cosmos.
"But
we don't have a suitable arrow," said the gods.
"Yes,
we do," said Vishnu who turned himself into a fiery missile, a blazing
shastra.
Shiva
took the form of Ugra, the fierce warlord and mounted the cosmic chariot. He
grabbed the celestial bow and chased the three cities across the galaxies. He
followed them up into the bright firmament and down into the murky waters of
the nether world. He waited for the moment when the three flying cities were
aligned. And when it happened, after a thousand years of chase, Shiva shot the
lethal dart the Vishnu-shastra.
The
missile ripped through the foundations of the three flying cities. Instantly
they burst into flames and came tumbling down. The cries of the demons, their
women and children, rent the air. All were killed. The remains of the cities
turned into cosmic debris: comets, asteroids and meteors. After the massacre,
Shiva came to be known as Tripurantaka, destroyer of the three cities.
The
gods cheered Shiva's feat. But he did not smile. "I cannot celebrate the
death of any creature, howsoever corrupt." Shiva's face was stern; tears
ran down his cheeks. The painful cries of the demons echoed in his ears.
"Know
this," Shiva said to all those who gathered around him, "A day will come
when the whole cosmos, every atom within it, will be corrupt. At that time I
shall wield my bow once again and destroy the three worlds." And to remind
everyone of this fearsome premonition, he marked out on his forehead three
lines, horizontal as a corpse, using the charred remains of the three flying
cities.
Writer Name:-Devdutt Pattanaik
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