The devas were impatient, having waited many yugas for the promised son who would release them from their bondage. But the union of Shiva and his Gauri, the fair Parvati, went on for days, then months and years. So intense was their passion that it threatened the very fabric of the universe. The devas were now afraid that the matchless child born of this marriage would annihilate the cosmos. Moreover, if Shiva’s son were to be born from Parvati’s womb, he would be unable to kill Taraka, according to the boon the asura had acquired. The gods now began to look for ways to separate Shiva and Parvati just as vigorously as they had once prayed for them to join together. But how could they approach the god who had already burned Kama for his intervention? What if he opened his third eye and annihilated them? Who on earth or heaven could withstand the rage of the one wearing a skull garland?
3
A Mysterious Birth
‘Does Shiva ever concern himself with our well-being?’ ranted Indra. ‘Does he not realize how we suffer every day under Taraka’s rule, waiting endlessly for his son to be born? We should go and remind him of his duty towards us!’
He went with Surya and Yama to Brahmaloka and sought the counsel of the Pitamaha, the grandfather of all creation. ‘Who can stand firm when faced by fiery Shiva?’ he asked Brahma. ‘Who can ensure that Shiva’s son is born to save us all from the asura brothers? Do you know what grand new task Sura has assigned me, the king of the devas? I am to hold his spittoon! Kubera, who once controlled all earth’s treasures, has to stand holding his box of betel leaves. Surya and Soma hold the royal umbrellas over his head, and Vayu fans him like a slave girl. Varuna carries his banner, while the gandharvas wait at his feet, singing his praises.’
‘Alas, Agni and I stand at the entrance to his court, regulating those who come to worship him,’ said Yama. ‘And if he were to notice our absence now, there will be a terrible price to pay!’
Brahma looked upon them with compassion and said, ‘The asura kings have nearly exhausted their punya through all the sins they have committed. It will soon be time for them to be killed. At this moment, I can help you by suggesting the right messenger to approach Shiva. Who better than the god with a blazing body and flaming hair? I mean the one who bridges heaven and earth, carrying offerings from the mortals to the gods!’
‘Agni!’ the gods exclaimed, relieved that they would not have to face Shiva’s wrath. ‘We will send him as our emissary to save the universe.’
Indra summoned Agni and ordered him to carry out their mission. With Agni came his wife, Svaha, who became fearful when she heard what Indra said. What if her husband too were destroyed by Shiva’s rage like the unfortunate Kama? But how could they turn down the request of the Creator and the deva king? Svaha was Daksha’s daughter and perhaps she could help Agni by appealing to her sister Sati, who had been reborn as Parvati.
The devas looked anxiously at Agni’s face. ‘Resplendent Agni, you are the guardian of all life!’ said Surya. ‘You sustain humanity at every stage; you warm their hearths and hearts. You are the lamp lighted during prayer and the sacred flame bearing witness to their marriage. And finally, when they die, you consume their bodies and guide their souls across the dark abyss to the shores of bliss. It is only fitting that you don the role of their saviour now. ’
Agni shook his head. ‘How can I interrupt the terrible Bhairava when he is engaged in making love to his wife?’ he asked. ‘Kama was burned by his anger even though he too had entered their cave to save mankind. How can you expect me to confront Shiva’s fury?’
But the gods would not allow him to escape the ordeal. ‘Mighty Agni!’ said Brahma. ‘Gods and men alike fear your flames that incinerate everything they touch. You have shown your terrible power by burning down giant trees and entire forests, leaving behind mere smoke and ashes. Who can accomplish this task if not you?’
‘Ruler of sacrifices, guardian of the eternal law, preserve us from sorrow on earth and in heaven!’ said Surya.
Agni joined his hands in reverence to Brahma and the other gods. ‘I obey your command, Pitamaha!’ he said. ‘I will approach Shiva and endeavour to win his grace. Even if I were to perish to preserve the three realms, I would gladly embrace my death.’
‘I too will go with him,’ said Svaha. ‘Bless us, great Brahma!’
The Creator raised his hand in blessing. The devas exulted as they had succeeded through praise, prayer and pleas to convince Agni. They went with Agni and Svaha, but stopped outside Shiva’s cave, allowing the two to go inside. Even though Agni was the embodiment of heat, he could not stop the waves of cold dread that rose within him. Svaha clasped his hand firmly, joining her strength with his. ‘Om!’ They began to chant the mantra of life and the portal to moksha. The air resonated with the power of the sacred syllable. They advanced with steady steps, going nearer and nearer to the blinding presence of Shiva. The earth stopped its revolution; mighty mountains trembled, preparing to face a cataclysm. The gods, including Brahma and Vishnu, the sages, apsaras, kinnaras and gandharvas joined the waiting devas outside the cave.
The light inside the cave was now searing, brighter than a thousand suns, hotter than Agni’s fiercest flames. Agni’s heart thudded in fear. The rising waves of heat and sound echoed and multiplied, disturbing the ardent Shiva and his beloved, forcing them to separate from each other. Parvati jumped up in confusion and ran into the depths of the cave so that the visitors would not see her dishevelled form. Shiva turned his fierce gaze on the intruders, angry that his idyll had been disturbed.
Agni and Svaha threw themselves at his feet. A torrent of words poured from the fire god’s mouth. ‘Maheshwara! Karunamurti!’ he hailed him. ‘Forgive the unfortunate souls who have come here in response to Brahma’s command. The gods are desperate for your son to be born, so that the world, already disturbed by your ardour, is not destroyed completely by Surapadma and his brothers.’ He saw Shiva’s eyebrows knit in fury and hurried on. ‘Your boon protects the asuras and only your blessing can free us from their tyranny, O Rudra! Only your power can demolish their supremacy!’
He then waited with Svaha, afraid to raise his eyes, wondering if the next moment would be their last. Outside the cave, the devas stood trembling too. Agni was the one facing Shiva, but he was also the medium through which they received their sustenance. If Shiva were to destroy him, they would be destroyed too. Had Shiva’s union with the gentle Gauri softened his turbulent soul? Would his reaction this time be less violent, less destructive? The very air seemed to be on fire and they could feel its red-hot intensity even if they closed their eyes.
The god of Kailasa looked down upon the fearful couple and felt a deep compassion fill his heart. The two had come together to face their fate, much as Rati had come with Kama. He now regretted burning the love god who had united him with his beloved Parvati. He would control his anger and refrain from harming Agni, who was even now looking up pleadingly at him. Shiva could understand his resolve to save his brethren and devotees. How could he scorch him when he had shown his willingness to sacrifice himself for the welfare of the world?
Mahadeva had taken a lustrous form with six faces in order to gaze at his beauteous wife. Now, from the third eye on each of the foreheads, he emitted his dazzling energy as six sparks. The sparks united to create a brilliant orb of light and heat that blinded the devas and made them fall to the ground in fear.
Shiva emerged from the cave along with Parvati who had recovered from her shock and was now filled with fury. ‘What sacrilege have you committed, foolish devas!’ she cried out. ‘To intrude thus into the abode of the lord who wields the trishul! To burst in so heedlessly into my sanctum, knowing well that I could destroy you all as Bhadrakali! Your actions have deprived me of the bliss of bearing Shiva’s child. Now tell me what I wish to know or you will pay a great price. Remember that you stand before Shakti, the power behind creation and destruction. Where is Shiva’s tejas? Where is his life-giving force? Tell me who has stolen it or prepare to be curse
d.’
The devas looked around in confusion, but the brilliant orb of light that had dazzled them was nowhere to be seen. Mighty Vishnu fixed his lambent gaze on them and said, ‘Reveal the truth, devas, or you will lose your powers. Which of you stole Shiva’s tejas?’
Wise Brahma looked sorrowfully at them and said, ‘Whosoever has stolen Shiva’s divine spark will lose all the punya he has gathered.’
‘It was not I who stole the orb,’ said Yama. ‘I know that it would go against dharma and the codes of righteous conduct. Such a sinner will be born on earth in the darkest Kali Yuga.’
‘Nor did I steal the tejas, great one,’ said Indra. ‘Do I not know that Shiva’s lustre is the only means through which we can be redeemed? I command the culprit to speak up now, or lose my favour forever.’
‘I know nothing,’ said Kubera. ‘As the god of wealth, I know that Shiva’s tejas is beyond all treasures. I pray to those gathered here to avoid the infamy of betraying dharma.’
‘How could the orb disappear before the eyes of gods who witness everything on earth and heaven? The culprit must be among you,’ railed Parvati, losing her patience as each of them swore they had no knowledge. ‘For your sin, I curse that you devas will suffer ceaselessly under Sura’s rule until my son, whose birth you prevented, redeems you. The Trimurti, who watched idly while the theft took place, will be transformed into trees for a day, deprived of their powers.’
Schisms rent the earth, the seas retreated from the shores, and the planets reversed their courses, for the Devi was incandescent with rage.
Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva were transformed into trees—the kimsuka, peepal and the banyan. The gods returned to perform their duties to the asuras, fearing that their redemption was now beyond their reach. After a day spent as trees, Vishnu and Brahma returned to their lokas and Shiva retired to his cave to resume his dhyana.
The Devi stood alone, her rage now dissolving into grief, bewailing the turn of events that had deprived her of her deepest desire. Where was the radiant light that could transform her life and the universe? It had been so powerful that it had blinded them. Would the tejas reveal itself in the future? Would her yearning to be a mother ever be satisfied?
Meanwhile, on a distant mountainside, a frantic drama of life and death was playing out. The lion had paused for a moment to decide whether to seize the young gibbon or the strange creature with six heads. It was a choice between a familiar prey and a new one whose powers were unknown. The predator angled to the left, making for the gibbon. Ulluck froze, staring death in the eye. The mother gibbon bounded forward, teeth bared, ready to fight off the killer. She would make it to her child before the lion did. But then what? She knew she could not take down the lion by herself, especially with a young one to protect. She could not outrun the fleet beast either, while carrying her son. If she could only get to the trees, she could swing herself up into the branches and seek safety from the lion’s slavering jaws.
She reached the baby gibbon who sprang into her arms and clutched her middle in terror. She turned towards the lion and saw that he was crouched to make the leap. He had positioned himself in such a way that he was between her and the safety of the trees. The mother shrieked in fear and defiance. Could she hurl her son away and hope he would get to the trees while she kept the lion engaged? But what if the lion seized Ulluck when he ran past? She shuddered, imagining her child torn to shreds by the predator’s fierce jaws. Alas, it was too late. Both of them would be torn into pieces by the lion’s sharp teeth and claws. Her cry faded in despair. Suddenly, a blur of movement caught her eye. The lion paused too, his eyes wary. The six-faced creature had reached the trees now. How had he moved so fast? He must be running away. The lion crouched again, his limbs powerful, his power ready to be unleashed. He sprang. The mother gibbon shrieked and began to run. But she was not as fast as the lion who was all sleek muscle and power. There were rustling sounds in the trees. Perhaps her clan was rushing to her rescue. But they would not be here in time to save them. The mother turned to face the lion, to make a last stand; hopefully her clan would rescue her son while she delayed the attacker.
She loosened her son’s hold on her body and screamed to him to run to the trees. The lion leapt through the air. She trembled, freezing in her tracks. Then she rose as high as she could on her two legs, prepared to fight to the death. Had her little one escaped?
Then she heard a loud ‘thwack’. She jerked in shock. What was that? She saw the lion flounder in mid-leap and tumble to the ground, though his extended claws managed to slash her shoulder. She felt the ground shake as a thick branch landed heavily near the lion. The lion rose on his front legs and lashed out at her, his eyes focused on his quarry. Thwack, thwack, thwack. More branches came hurtling towards him, finding their mark unerringly, wounding him. There were so many and some pierced him so deeply that his body appeared to have branches growing from it. The lion roared in pain and shock. The mother gibbon ran for the trees now, catching up with her little one, snatching him up and climbing the nearest trunk. Ulluck was trembling, gibbering in terror. Now she could see what was happening down on the ground.
It was the six-headed one that had saved her life. And Ulluck’s. He was still hurling branches at the lion, his twelve arms moving so swiftly that they were only a blur of movement. The rest of her clan was sitting in the trees nearby, watching with awe as the stranger took on its enemy.
The sounds stopped. The lion crawled away, dragging his bloodied limbs and nursing his wounds. The child watched quietly now, allowing him to escape, his face calm. He looked up and saw a ring of gibbons watching him from the trees. There were other buff-coloured females and larger, black-furred males with white eyebrows and fur framing their faces. The mother he had saved was chattering in thanksgiving while Ulluck was silent, still in shock. The gibbons withdrew swiftly through the branches, leaving the boy alone.
But the little one was soon busy, focused on a new mission. He had learnt that he needed weapons against jungle beasts and other foes he might encounter. He gathered stout branches and began to sharpen their ends against a rock. He studied a broken bow with a few arrows that he had stumbled upon in the forest. Once he had figured out how they worked, he made himself a strong new set of bow and arrows with which he practised shooting. He laughed at his own clumsiness in the beginning when he even managed to shoot himself. But he soon became an expert and could pick off a mango in the valley below with one careful shot. The gibbon clan gradually adopted him as its own and brought him delicious fruits in gratitude for saving Ulluck. The child was happy to be absorbed into their family and quickly learnt how to swing from tree to tree like them and travel through the forest. He joined their chatter about the best gardens in the valley and imitated their shrill calls to warn of predators in the neighbourhood. He grew more sure-footed and was seen leaping across cliffs, making friends with the birds and other beasts. Once, he heard several loud shrieks from his ape friends and saw a bear running towards him. Before he could grab his bow, the gibbons had already driven the bear away with rocks and branches. No one dared approach him now in enmity, for the apes would swoop down and attack. His prowess with the bow too kept away fierce animals like rhinoceroses and leopards.
One day, the gibbons came crashing through the branches to where the child sat, sharpening his arrows, screeching out a message. They stopped behind him and watched silently as a little girl came towards them. The boy realized that she must have wandered away from her village which was on the edges of the jungle.
His path had often crossed that of humans and he had watched, hidden in the branches, as they gathered twigs for their fires on which they cooked their food. Once, drawn by the delicious smells, he had crept into their camp at night and tasted the leftovers from their pots. Oh, if only he belonged with them and was coddled by the elders as their children were! They looked like him after all, except for the fact that each had just one head and two arms. Perhaps, he had been abandoned because he
had too many heads and limbs. Maybe there was a chance that he could befriend them through this little girl. He held out a ripe mango to her and watched her face carefully, hoping that she would not run away shrieking through the forest in fear. But the girl came dancing up to him and took the fruit, happy to quench her thirst after wandering in circles for a long time.
‘Why do you have six heads?’ she asked, staring at him with huge eyes, as she sank her teeth into the lush fruit.
‘I was born like this,’ he answered.
She came nearer and questioned him some more. ‘Where do you live? Where are your parents? Why are you alone? Are you lost like me?’
He answered her as best as he could. Then he asked her, ‘Do you want me to take you back to your parents?’
She nodded and skipped along by his side, until they were within sight of her village. ‘I must go. My parents must be worried,’ she said as she waved a hand in farewell. ‘I am sorry you have no parents. But at least you have a bird for company,’ she said and pointed up at the sky before running towards the thatched huts standing in a cluster.
He looked up and saw an eagle with a golden body and reddish wings hovering above his head. He had seen the bird once earlier when he had been sleeping in a clearing and was caught unawares by a wild buffalo. He had woken up with a start on hearing a fierce bellow and had seen the buffalo charging at him, its head lowered to attack. As he had scrambled to his feet, the eagle had attacked the animal with its sharp talons, shrieking loudly to frighten it away.
‘Who are you and why are you following me?’ he whispered, looking at the bird on high. The bird answered by swooping towards him, its body growing larger and larger as it approached. The trees shook in the wind generated by its wings, and snakes that had been sunning themselves on rocks slithered swiftly into their holes, afraid that they were its targets. The child stood fearlessly, confronting the eagle with its fierce beak and massive body. What now? Was the bird friend or foe, protector or destroyer? The wind dropped suddenly and there was a fearful silence. The little birds in the trees covered their heads with their wings and peered down at the pair facing each other, one so huge and one so little. No one could withstand an attack from this powerful bird . . . Had the child escaped the lion only to die now?
Kartikeya and His Battle with the Soul Stealer Page 4