The Seduction of Shiva: Tales of Life and Love

by Haskar

  ‘It is not because of any fault in you that I cannot accept you,’ Kacha said in reply as he departed. ‘It is only because you are my guru’s daughter. He knows it. You can curse me as you like, but I do not deserve it. Your curse moreover is due not to rightness but to desire, and so you too will not get what you want. No brahman will marry you. As for my learning, if it does not bear fruit I will teach it to others whom it will benefit.’

  The gods were delighted at Kacha’s return.

  Later their king Indra went with many women to a forest where they played about in the water. Indra took the form of a wind and mixed up all the garments the ladies had taken off, at which they emerged from the water and grabbed whatever clothes they could find.

  One of the women there was Sharmishtha, the daughter of the demon king Vrishaparvan. Unknowingly, she took the clothes of Devayani, leading to a quarrel between the two. ‘You demon girl,’ Devayani exclaimed, ‘you are just a student but you have no manners. How can you take my clothes? This will do you no good at all.’

  The demon princess was enraged. ‘I am the daughter of someone who is praised and extolled,’ she retorted. ‘I give, I do not take. You are the child of one who praises, begs and receives. My father is entreated by yours, humbly and frequently. Besides, I have weapons and you don’t. So how dare you display anger, beggar girl, and chatter about taking things back from me?’

  Devayani, who wanted to recover her clothes, was amazed. Sharmishtha pushed her into a well and went home. So angry was she that she did not even consider if the other girl was dead.

  It so happened that after some time King Yayati, the son of King Nahusha, passed by that well. He had been out on a hunt and was tired and thirsty. Looking into the well, he saw a figure which shone like a flame of fire. ‘Who are you?’ the good king asked reassuringly. ‘You are young and good-looking, with bejewelled rings on your ears. But you also seem anxious and in deep thought. Why are you sighing, and how did you fall into this well covered with creepers and scrub? Whose daughter are you? Tell me all, lovely girl.’

  ‘I am the daughter of Shukra,’ replied Devayani, ‘who revives with his science the demons slain by the gods. You of course don’t know me, king. This, with red fingernails, is my right hand. Hold it and help me out. I believe you are of good family, and I see you are a calm, courageous and dignified person. You need to rescue me from this well.’

  Yayati realized that the girl with lovely hips was the child of a famous brahman. He took hold of her right hand and pulled her out of the well. Saying goodbye, he then went away. Devayani on her part felt abused and aggrieved. Her servant maid had meanwhile appeared. ‘Ghurnika,’ she told her, ‘go quickly to my father and tell him all. I will now not set foot in Vrishaparvan’s capital.’

  Ghurnika went straightaway to the demon palace where she met Shukra. ‘Wise one,’ she told him, trembling and almost out of her senses, ‘the honourable Devayani has been injured in the forest by Sharmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan.’

  Shukra was shocked at this news and rushed to the forest, looking for his daughter. Taking her in his arms, he said sadly, ‘People’s pains and pleasures are all due to one’s own previous deeds. I wonder if this is an atonement of some wrong you did.’

  ‘Atonement or not,’ Devayani retorted, ‘just listen to me. Listen to what I was told by Vrishaparvan’s daughter. She said I am the demons’ singing girl. Is that true? Her words were sharp and cruel, her eyes bloodshot with anger. “You are the daughter of one who praises, begs and receives,” she said, “and I of one who is praised and gives in charity.” That is what she said to me, her face flushed with arrogance. Father, if I am indeed the daughter of one who praises and receives, then I must please Sharmishtha. That is what I told my maid.’

  ‘Of course you are not the daughter of someone who praises and receives, Devayani. You are the child of one who is praised by all. Vrishaparvan knows this, and so does Indra and even King Yayati. My strength is the lord, the unthinkable and incomparable Brahma.1 But you must also know that one who is not provoked by the harsh words of others conquers everything. One who controls anger as he would a horse is esteemed, not one who is led by its reins. To free oneself from anger is the real victory.’

  ‘I may be a young girl, father, but I know what goes and what does not. I also know the strength and the weakness of anger and of excess. But one who yearns to be a pupil cannot forgive conduct unfit for pupils in another. I do not like to be with such people. Dear father, the terrible words of Vrishaparvan’s daughter are like a fire consuming my heart.’

  Shukra then went to the demon ruler. ‘The fruit of evil deeds may not appear immediately, O king,’ he said to Vrishaparvan, ‘but they are certainly manifested like the results of bad food in the stomach. Kacha, the grandson of Angiras, was a sinless, learned brahman, serving me and living in my house. You had him killed unworthily and the same has been attempted on my daughter. Why have you ignored what your daughter did? It is only now that I understand demons to be liars. Know that I will leave you, for I cannot stay in your kingdom.’

  ‘Sir, be gracious,’ Vrishaparvan entreated. ‘You never speak evil or falsehood. I know the truth and goodness in you. If you leave me, I will have no course but to jump into the sea.’

  ‘By all means, jump into the sea or wherever,’ Shukra replied, ‘but I cannot bear ill treatment of my daughter who is my life. Please Devayani, and I will look after your welfare as Brihaspati does of Indra.’

  Shukra then took Devayani to the demon king. ‘Tell me what you want, Devayani of the pure smile,’ asked Vrishaparvan, ‘I will give it to you no matter how difficult.’

  ‘I want Sharmishtha as my slave,’ said Devayani, ‘to follow me wherever my father may send me.’

  The demon king asked a matron to fetch Sharmishtha to do what Devayani desired. The matron informed the princess who went as directed to Shukra’s daughter. ‘I am your slave and servant,’ she told Devayani, ‘I will definitely follow you wherever you go.’

  ‘I am the daughter of one who praises, begs and receives alms. You are that of one who receives praise. How will you be my slave?’

  ‘One has to comfort one’s family as well as those who are suffering,’ said Sharmishtha. ‘I will follow you to wherever your father bequeaths you.’ There the matter ended.

  One day, Devayani went to the very same forest where the previous trouble had occurred. With her went Sharmishtha and other servants. They were wandering about the woods, playing, drinking the nectar of spring flowers and eating fruit when King Yayati again passed by, tired and thirsty after a hunt. He saw these well-dressed women drinking and the beautiful Devayani sitting in their midst with a smile. Sharmishtha was rubbing her feet,

  ‘O you two, surrounded by so many other ladies,’ Yayati asked, ‘may I know your names and families?’

  ‘I will make the introductions, sir,’ replied Devayani. ‘I am the daughter of Shukra, the preceptor of the demons. This is my slave and companion, who goes with me. She is Sharmishtha, the daughter of Vrishaparvan, the demon king.’

  ‘How could this handsome daughter of the demon king be your slave and companion, lovely lady? I am most curious.’

  ‘All people follow their fate. Know this to be destined, sir, and don’t trouble your mind. But you speak the sacred language and are dressed like a king. From where are you, who is your father, and what is your name? Tell me.’

  ‘Well, I studied the scriptures as a celibate. My name is Yayati, and I am indeed a king’s son, now the king.’

  ‘Why have you come here, lord of men? Is it for hunting? Do you want water or something else?’

  ‘That is a lot of questions, blessed lady, but you should know that I was out hunting and have come here for water.’

  ‘May all be well with you, friend. I am at your disposal together with my slave Sharmishtha and all these other girls. Be my husband!’

  ‘May all be well with you too, beautiful daughter of Shukra. But I
am not worthy of you, Devayani. You must know that warrior kshatriyas cannot marry into a family such as your father’s.’

  ‘Brahmans and kshatriyas are castes conjoined and supportive of each other, son of Nahusha. You are a royal sage and also the son of one. You can have me today itself.’

  ‘All the four castes indeed come from a single source, beautiful one, but their duties and rules are different, even though a brahman may be the best.’

  ‘No man has ever held my hand earlier, son of Nahusha. You were the first to do so, and therefore I choose you. How can any other man now touch a proud, high-minded girl like me?’

  ‘But, gentle one, I cannot take you in marriage unless your father gives you to me.’

  ‘Well, take me when I am given by my father. I have chosen you. You do not have to ask for me, only accept what is offered.’

  Devayani then sent a matron to her father. That woman met Shukra and apprised him of everything, whereupon the sage came to meet the king. Yayati bowed and stood humbly as the preceptor greeted him.

  ‘Father, I salute you,’ said Devayani. ‘This is King Yayati. He took my hand in a difficult situation. Give me to him, for I will not accept anyone else in the world as a husband.’

  ‘Brave son of Nahusha,’ Shukra then spoke out, ‘this dear daughter of mine has chosen you as her husband. I give her to you. Take her as your queen.’

  Yayati assented, adding, ‘I beseech you, sir, to grant that no sin of caste contamination adheres to me in this.’

  Shukra assured him. ‘I free you from any such sin,’ he said. ‘You will be untouched by it in this marriage. Live lawfully with Devayani as your wife, and enjoy yourself with her. The princess Sharmishtha will always attend on you, but you must not take her to your bed.’

  Thus was Devayani married. Yayati went back with her to his capital, also taking Sharmishtha and the other servant girls. For long did he and Devayani enjoy all the pleasures of their life together. In time she conceived and gave birth to their first son. How Yayati later had a liaison and also progeny with Sharmishtha, and the consequences thereof, is another story.

  From Matsya Purāṇa, 25–32

  Shriya Devi’s Ordeal

  In the town of Shalipur there lived the merchant Shalig with his spouse Jayika. Their son Gunakar was married to Shriya Devi. She was having an affair with another merchant called Subuddhi but, though this had already become notorious, so infatuated was her husband with his wife that he gave no ear to the gossip. After all, those in love look just for merit while those displeased look for faults; it is only the neutral one who sees both. Besides, men in love can never control themselves while others can slip out like water from a woman’s hands.

  Once, Shriya Devi’s father-in-law saw her asleep with the other man, and took off the anklet from her foot. She realized what had happened, and then sent her lover to fetch her husband with whom she then went to bed. Later she woke him up and said, ‘Your father took off the anklet from my foot and has it. Such an impropriety has never been seen before: a father-in-law seizing the anklet from the foot of a daughter-in-law.’

  ‘I will get it from my father in the morning,’ said Gunakar, ‘and return it to you myself.’ The next day he berated his father and asked for the ornament’s return.

  ‘I saw her sleeping with another man,’ the father explained, ‘that is why I took the anklet.’

  ‘But I was sleeping with your son!’ Shriya Devi protested. ‘I will undergo the sacred ordeal to prove this. A yaksha deity1 is located to the north of this very place. I will pass through between his legs. It is well known that only those who speak the truth can do so and come out.’

  The father-in-law agreed.

  That hussy then went to her lover’s house while it was still day. ‘Darling,’ she told him, ‘tomorrow morning I will undergo the ordeal of passing between the yaksha’s legs. You must come there, pretend to be mad, and clasp my neck.’

  After speaking to her lover, Shriya Devi returned home. In the morning she assembled all the leading citizens and proceeded to the yaksha’s temple with rice, flowers and other material for the sacred ritual. She bathed in the nearby lake and entered the temple to offer worship, where her lover put both his arms around her neck, behaving crazily as previously arranged.

  ‘Oh, what is this!’ cried Shriya Devi, and went back to bathe again as people caught hold of the make-believe madman and drove him away. As for her, she returned after her ablution and went up to the yaksha. Offering worship to the deity with flowers, incense and suchlike, she cried aloud in everyone’s hearing: ‘O lord yaksha! If any man other than my husband and this lunatic has ever touched me, may I not be able to pass between your legs.’

  In the presence of all the assembled people she then went between the yaksha’s legs and came out safely. The deity stayed still, praising her intelligence in his own mind. And the people lauded her as a chaste and holy woman as they all went home. Thus did she retain both her anklet and her honour.

  From Shuka Saptati, 15

  In Quest of a Consort

  Usha was the granddaughter of the great demon king Bali, who gifted the earth to the dwarf incarnation of the god Vishnu. Her father was the mighty warrior Bana, whom the god Shiva treated like a son. The person she married was Aniruddha, the eldest patrilinear grandson of Shri Krishna, a later incarnation of the god Vishnu. This is the tale of how the demon girl found her divine husband.

  Once the great god Shiva went with his consort Parvati to the banks of a beautiful river for recreation. It was in a forest at springtime, where hundreds of nymphs had come to sport with their partners. The whole place was redolent with the fragrance of celestial blossoms, and the sound of music played by the nymphs. They sang in praise of the great god who was dressed in red and wearing a fine garland. A beautiful nymph, Chitralekha, entertained him with an imitation of Parvati who laughed aloud at this. Other nymphs also laughed as they dallied with members of the god’s retinue who were dressed like him. All this amused Shiva greatly.

  Among those present on this occasion was Bana’s pretty daughter Usha. She saw the divine couple sporting together by the river side, the great god assuming various forms to please the goddess, his spouse. Standing nearby, Usha made a wish, ‘Blessed is she who thus makes love with her husband.’

  Parvati understood her intent. ‘Usha,’ she said softly, ‘you too will soon make love with a husband as the god Shiva does with me.’ The girl closed her eyes in joy and hope. ‘When will this happen?’ she wondered, at which Parvati laughed and told her, ‘Listen to what I say. On the twelfth day of the summer month Vaishakh, in the evening at your palace, your husband will make love with you in a dream.’

  The demon’s daughter was overjoyed at these words and wandered off contentedly with her girlfriends who clapped their hands and joked with her. ‘Beautiful,’ they said, ‘you will soon have a husband as promised by the goddess. Her words are never untrue. She has ordained a handsome and noble spouse for you.’ Meanwhile the gathering dispersed, the gods disappeared, and all who had come went home, some on horseback, chariots or elephants, and some by the aerial route.

  Usha was bewildered by desire. Her mind full of thoughts of a husband and what the goddess had said, she could neither eat nor sleep, but only moan. Her breasts became hot, her cheeks pale and her eyes filled with tears. Her body ached. Her friends treated her for fever even though she had none. ‘What is troubling you?’ they asked. ‘Why are you so sad? Your face is covered with perspiration, just like dew drops on an autumn lily. Its radiance has vanished, just like that of the moon behind a cloud. You are full of sighs and don’t enjoy betel leaves and sweets as you did before. Get up now, and tell us what ails you?’

  Hearing the commotion in Usha’s apartment, the servants went to her mother. ‘The princess has stopped speaking since her return from the water sports,’ they said. ‘She looks weak and keeps lying down. Perhaps she should be seen by physicians.’

  ‘What has happen
ed, good girl?’ the queen her mother asked, as she held Usha’s hand and cracked her own fingers for good luck. ‘The physicians are here and want to know.’

  ‘We know that the princess had gone with her friends to the water sports of the goddess Parvati,’ said the physicians. ‘That must have caused fatigue which has led to exhaustion, body aches and sleepiness. There is nothing to fear in this.

  But the queen remained concerned. ‘Sandal paste with ice was put on her breast, physicians,’ she remarked, ‘but it soon began to bubble as if boiling. What is this? Her body is very hot; she is constantly perspiring. She is also thirsty, but does not take anything and only keeps wailing. Tell me for certain what this could be according to your science.’

  ‘There were many women around the god during his sports,’ the physicians said. ‘The princess is beautiful beyond compare. Her ailment has been caused by some evil eye, warding off which needs protective spells and anointment with holy water containing mustard seeds to give relief.’ While leaving they also mentined that the illness could be due to sexual desire.

  Questioned at length by her mother, the modest Usha wept aloud, saying, ‘I don’t want to talk, mother, or to eat or indulge in any entertainment. My heart is on fire!’

  The other women looked at each other. ‘Youth can become an embarrassment for womankind,’ they observed. ‘What can one say? This princess is now fit for a husband. With the grace of her father and mother, may she get one who suits her.’

  Then came the month of Vaishakh. On the twelfth night of the waxing moon, when that pretty girl slept in the palace surrounded by her aides, the ordained man came in a dream and made love to her. She struggled and cried but, fired by the words of the goddess, she reciprocated and also made love to him and was made a complete woman in that dream.

  She woke up suddenly that night, wet with blood and weeping loudly. Her companions were frightened. The closest to her among them was Chitralekha. ‘Don’t be so scared, Usha,’ she said affectionately. ‘Why are you crying and distraught? You are Bali’s granddaughter and have nothing to fear. Your father defeats even the gods. Get up, there is no need for distress in a place like this.’