The playful Manmatha, his son,
Inflames the world with passion
What can the poor husband do now
But lie inert in the ocean?
He stopped then and looked expectantly at them, hoping that his banter would camouflage his growing fascination for the threesome.
‘Oh, so this is your great riddle?’ scoffed Siddhi. ‘I knew that the answer was Vishnu as soon as you started speaking. Anyway, I have no time to waste talking. I came here to take my sisters back to the ashram. There is news that fearsome Prince Gana is coming towards us, travelling along the course of the Ganga, killing and plundering. Our father warned us that he is the lustful Kamasura reborn, made invincible by Shiva’s boons. But I am not afraid. I rather hope that he comes to our ashram so that I can fight him and kill him!’
‘The asura is coming?’ Ganesha exclaimed, his big ears flapping and his trunk swinging from side to side.
But Siddhi was no longer there to answer him. She had heard a rustle among the trees and vaulted onto her horse’s back to find out if danger lurked near. Her sisters hurried away too, though Riddhi turned back once to smile at him. Ganesha realized then that he had not heard Buddhi speak a single word all this time. What really goes on in her mind? he wondered. It would be fascinating to find out. And he would love to make her smile, just to see those charming dimples again!
During the days that followed, Ganesha saw the three sisters often and was gradually able to distinguish one from the other, more by their manner than by any physical differences. Riddhi was the friendliest and often came looking for him. She was vibrant and quite talkative. Red seemed to be her favourite colour and she always wore glittering necklaces and belts that drew attention to her shapely neck and tiny waist.
Siddhi was often just a flash of gold or orange as she sped by on her horse. She kept her distance from him, though he sometimes caught her watching him suspiciously. Whenever he came upon the girls studying, or gathering jasmine flowers, Siddhi would walk away, refusing to acknowledge his greeting. Ganesha wondered why she was so hostile. Was it because of his unusual appearance? Or had he said something inadvertently to offend her?
Riddhi was equally puzzled by Siddhi’s behaviour. ‘She has always been volatile,’ she said. ‘But even so, her hostility towards you is quite extreme and difficult to understand. Did you meet her earlier in the forest or cross her in any way?’
Ganesha shook his head in answer.
‘Perhaps it is just her anxiety about Prince Gana,’ Riddhi speculated. ‘She is afraid that she will be caught unawares when he appears in our forest. All three of us are expert in the astras, but it is only Siddhi who wishes to use her skills in battle. Now her sole purpose is to confront the asura and defeat him. She has no time for thoughts of marriage or friendship even.’
‘What about you? What do you look for in a husband?’ asked Ganesha, studying her face intently.
‘We have countless suitors to choose from,’ she replied, jutting out her chin proudly. ‘Powerful kings and devas like Surya and Agni. After all, we are Brahma’s daughters and so beautiful besides. I have decided that I will marry someone who is supremely handsome like Vishnu and will sweep me off my feet.’
Ganesha nodded ponderously, running his hands over his elephant face, wondering for the hundredth time why he was not dashing like his brother Karthikeya. Riddhi saw his crestfallen expression and inwardly chided herself for having spoken thoughtlessly.
There was silence then and Ganesha turned his gaze towards Buddhi who was seated in a padmasana some distance from them. Perhaps she would not place so much value on a perfect face.
‘Buddhi is interested only in those who are learned and intelligent,’ said Riddhi, following his gaze. ‘She is truly Saraswati’s daughter.’
‘The three of you are so different,’ remarked Ganesha, watching Siddhi gallop past, her long hair flowing behind her. ‘As for Siddhi, her name means enlightenment, and we all know that it is not easy to attain!’
Ganesha spent long periods of time in dhyana and Buddhi came upon him one day, meditating on the banks of the Ganga. She saw that his trunk was turned towards his right, indicating that he was praying to the gods and was not to be disturbed. If it was turned to his left instead, it would indicate that he was open to this world and its experiences.
As she stood watching, she saw a beautiful girl approach him. She recognized her as Princess Tulasi, who often came to worship Vishnu in a temple nearby. Tulasi gazed raptly at the magnificent young god, admiring his radiant face and the aura around him. She then drew closer and tapped him with the stem of the lotus bud she was holding in her hand.
Gajamukha emerged from his meditation and looked enquiringly at her. ‘I am Tulasi, the daughter of King Dharmadvaja,’ she said to him. ‘Take me as your wife, Bright One, for your divine form and face have captured my heart!’
He was taken aback by her request and her forthright manner, but seeing that she was youthful and innocent, he replied gently, ‘Greetings, princess! I am honoured to receive a proposal from someone so young and beautiful. However, I must confess that I am unable to accept. My destiny compels me to follow a different path in order to complete a task given to me by the gods. I wish you well though, and pray that you find a suitor who will reciprocate your feelings.’
Buddhi listened and wondered about the path he had mentioned. Did his words mean that he had decided to remain celibate? But his manner towards the three sisters was often that of a suitor for their affections. What were his true intentions then?
She saw that Tulasi was shocked by his refusal, but the princess persisted, captivated by his grace and charm. Ganesha turned her down again and she at once became angry and resentful. ‘You are foolish to reject a beautiful princess like me and will soon regret your decision!’ she retorted. ‘One day soon, you too will yearn for someone and will then understand how I feel!’
Ganesha’s face turned red with anger. He had been polite in speaking to her, but she was brash and threatening. ‘You are too arrogant, Tulasi, and you will pay the price for it,’ he retorted. ‘You will marry a rakshasa and end your life as a shrub!’
Brought to her senses by his fierce curse, Tulasi began to weep loudly. She fell at his feet and begged his forgiveness. Ganesha was now calm again and was touched by her grief. ‘The great Vishnu will release you from your life with the rakshasa and transform you into a tulasi plant,’ he said. ‘Devotees will offer your leaves to him in order to be redeemed from sin. However, I myself will never accept the tulasi in worship.’
As the princess moved sadly away, Buddhi began her own meditation in a sylvan spot under a parijata tree. The fragrant blossoms with vibrant orange stalks fell softly around her as she focused her mind on Lord Krishna.
Riddhi came to greet Ganesha, and he could see that she was bubbling over with happiness.
‘What makes you so buoyant today, Riddhi?’ he asked her, confident that he could speak freely to her.
She blushed, bit her lip in hesitation and then opened up. ‘I think I have found the right man to marry—someone who will cherish me forever!’ she declared.
Ganesha froze, and gazed at her in shock. ‘True love—and so suddenly!’ he exclaimed.
‘I met a poet in these very woods when he came looking for inspiration,’ she replied. ‘Needless to say, he found it in my beauty! He is everything I desire, for he is as handsome as Kama and loves me beyond reason. He makes me garlands of conch flowers that are more precious to me than pearls. His face is sublime and his eyes so enchanting that I can see the skies, the birds and all heaven in them! His body is powerful and flawless like the vaidurya gem that captivates the eye with its glitter.’
‘You seem to have settled quickly for a mortal when you could choose any of the gods in heaven,’ said Ganesha, frowning.
‘Great Shiva is married and so is Vishnu. Indra and Surya have beautiful wives and many apsaras to captivate them. I hear that your brother Karth
ikeya, though single, is always angry! Who else is left, tell me? ’
What about me? Ganesha wanted to ask, but restrained himself. What if she said something brash and hurtful in reply?
‘Judging by your description, it appears that your poet is more enchanting than Lord Krishna,’ he said morosely.
‘Undoubtedly!’ she replied. ‘Even if Krishna were to appear in front of me now, I would still choose my poet. Did Damayanti not choose to marry King Nala even though all the devas courted her?’
‘But this man is not a king! He is just an impoverished poet!’ Ganesha protested.
‘Why do you insist that I marry a god, Ganesha? Are you jealous by any chance?’ she asked, her eyes dancing merrily when Ganesha flushed red. He shook his head in denial but was not willing to give up.
‘If you were in some danger, how will he protect you? With the feather he writes with? And when he himself is dependent on the largesse of kings, how will he support you in the life of luxury that you are used to?’
‘I have enough riches for both of us, for I am blessed by the divine Lakshmi,’ she retorted. ‘And I find that immortality pales when compared to the magic of eternal love. My poet swears that he will love me even when I am old and wrinkled. He says that though we may age, fall sick and die, our life together will be blissful as long as it lasts. Ultimately, is this not what matters? Therefore, I have decided to remain on earth as a goddess in his eyes rather than reign in heaven.’
It seemed as if the flighty girl he had met had grown wise overnight. She now considered love to be essential to happiness, not good looks or wealth.
But was Ganesha ready to give her up so easily?
3
A Duel for Love
‘I fear your poet is too good to be true, Riddhi,’ said Ganesha finally, unable to think of any further arguments against her choice. ‘Perhaps he is a trickster looking for a wealthy bride. Bring him to me so I may find out if he really loves you.’
Riddhi agreed and skipped away lightly to look for her poet, leaving behind a glum suitor.
Ganesha turned his attention to the serene Buddhi, a vision of loveliness, seated on a carpet of flowers. Near her hovered a fawn, while a brilliant blue bird perched on her shoulder and ate the fruit she offered. She seemed tranquil and happy and smiled at Ganesha. He took that as an invitation and hurried to her side.
‘I call my bird Neela,’ she said. ‘Not very imaginative, I admit, but she is so brilliantly blue!’
‘The truth, though, is that Neela is a male bird, not a female,’ chuckled Ganesha. She looked startled and then smiled back. She was at least talking to him now, and he was delighted to hear her soft, musical voice. Finally, she had broken her silence.
‘I presume Riddhi told you about her poet,’ Buddhi continued. ‘I hope he is everything my sister wishes, though I dread being separated from her when she marries him. Sometimes I even wish that the three of us could marry the same groom, so that we may never be parted.’
I wish that too, as long as it is me that you three wed, thought Ganesha. But it seemed unlikely that even one of them would say yes to him.
Buddhi stared thoughtfully at Ganesha. ‘May I ask you something?’ she asked finally. ‘I am not sure if I should and you need not answer unless you want to.’
He looked into her calm, clear eyes and wondered if she was interested in him or was merely curious. Whatever it was, he would take this as an opportunity to get closer to her.
‘You may ask me anything!’ he smiled, and waited courteously for her to speak.
‘I saw you turn away Tulasi and wondered why you are so opposed to marriage,’ she said.
‘I must tell you the truth now,’ he said, smiling mischievously. ‘Two beautiful maidens, Kamala and Vimala, had been praying to Shiva, seeking to marry him. He could not accept them for he was married already and so—’
‘So you married them and pretended that you were unmarried!’ said Buddhi, her face turning red.
‘But I am not married—not in this life!’ Ganesha said. ‘It happened in another age. You may be aware that the gods are born in different yugas in different forms to carry out their purpose, though the lessons they teach are the same. This is sometimes difficult to understand unless you realize that the gods existed before Time began. It is only through our sages that we come to know about their earlier lives. Why, in the future, the great poet Tulsidas will even say that Shiva and Parvati worshipped me, their son, before their marriage! Now, that is a paradox to tease your mind!’
He saw her thoughtful face as she tried to unravel all this and said, ‘Let me invoke a crow who will tell you more about this.’
‘A crow?’ whispered Buddhi.
‘Yes. Your love for earth’s creatures must have revealed to you that they are more intelligent and loving than anyone can imagine.’
She nodded, knowing that he too shared her affection for all life forms. His mouse was indolent and extremely pampered. She had seen Ganesha whispering comfort to a wounded deer, and sporting in the waters of the Ganga with playful dolphins.
‘A cow sheds tears for you when you are in pain,’ he continued. ‘And crows intercede for you in the world of our ancestors. In fact, I once took the form of a crow myself in order to make the river Kaveri flow in the south.’
He saw the eager look in her eyes and took it as encouragement to tell her the story. ‘Long ago, Shiva requested Sage Agastya to go to the south of Bharata Varsha, carrying the water of the Ganga, in order to create a river there to relieve the drought. The sage travelled south but became so absorbed in his prayers that he forgot to release the water he was carrying in his kamandal. I took the form of a crow and pushed down the pot so that the water could flow, pure and perennial, making the earth verdant. The sage opened his eyes wrathfully and I turned into a young lad so that I could explain the reason for my action. However, he began to chase me, angry that I had disturbed his prayers. Did he manage to catch hold of me and punish me? Well, that is a tale for another day!’ Ganesha chuckled.
‘Now, all that talking has made me hungry,’ he said as he brought out some modakas to share with her. ‘Do you know that your father, Brahma, has promised me a wife?’
‘Well, none of us has said yes!’ teased Buddhi.
‘Why does it have to be one of you sisters?’ he mocked her in reply. ‘Aren’t all the girls in the universe Brahma’s creations?’
Before she could come up with a suitable answer, a crow with glossy black feathers alighted on a low branch before them.
‘Salutations, Sage Bhushunda!’ said Ganesha. Buddhi looked at him suspiciously, wondering if he was playing a trick on her.
‘I bow to you, Mangalamurti!’ said the crow, startling Buddhi by speaking in a deep, resonant voice. ‘I worship the great god whom Shiva worshipped before killing Tripurasura, and Parvati before slaying Mahishasura!’
It was strange to hear that Ganesha’s parents would worship him, but Buddhi chose to remain silent for now.
‘Bhushunda lives in heaven on the kalpavriksha, the wish-fulfilling tree, in the form of a crow, and prays to Vishnu,’ explained Ganesha to her. ‘He is the chronicler of antiquity, the seer of the past, present and future.’
‘I will speak now of the mysteries of the yugas as per your bidding,’ said Bhushunda. ‘I have survived countless cycles of creation and dissolution. I have seen the earth sink five times and lifted up as many times by Vishnu in the form of a tortoise. Twelve times have I witnessed the great battle of gods and asuras, and the uprooting of the Mandara mountain to churn the nectar from the ocean. I have watched Vishnu come down six times as Parasurama, and seen Shiva destroy Tripura thirty times.’
Ganesha smiled at Buddhi’s startled expression and interrupted the sage with a question. ‘How is it that you have lived through so many yugas, O sage?’ he asked.
‘The power of dhyana has kept me alive through the ages,’ said Bhushunda. ‘It has freed me from sorrow, desire and disease that d
rain us of our life force.’
‘You mentioned Shiva and Vishnu, but have you not seen Ganesha in previous yugas, great sage?’ asked Buddhi, eager to seek some answers herself.
‘I have witnessed the young Gajamukha fight Bhandasura in the service of Devi Lalita,’ replied Bhushunda. ‘The valour he displayed was extraordinary and his devotion to the Devi was truly exceptional. However, you must understand that these avataras are merely fleeting illusions, like a drop of water on a lotus leaf. The ultimate reality is the divinity you discover within yourself through meditation.’
They bowed to the great soul as he fluttered away. ‘What is this fight with Bhandasura that he spoke of?’ asked Buddhi.
‘The story begins when I was just a child looking for a playmate,’ Ganesha replied. ‘I moulded a figure out of the ashes of Manmatha, the god of love, who had been burned by Shiva’s anger. The figure came to life and sang the praises of Shiva. The lord blessed him with unrivalled powers. Using these boons, Bhandasura, as he was now called, began to terrorize the worlds. The Trimurti themselves were helpless as their astras were powerless against Shiva’s boons. The devas performed intense tapasya and surrendered themselves to Shakti who manifested as Lalita Tripurasundari. She recreated the world that had been rendered barren and devoid of love by the asura. When I prayed to her to allow me to make amends for creating the demon, she smiled and nodded her consent.’
‘What did you do then?’ asked Buddhi, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
‘From Lalita’s smile were born six Vinayakas who led crores of Herambas, each with ten arms and five elephant heads. They annihilated the asuras in a trice while I myself killed Gajasura, the dire commander of the asura army. It was then that I understood that not even Shiva or Vishnu can attain anything without the Devi. My task on earth too can be completed only when Shakti smiles upon me.’
Buddhi was silent as she contemplated all that she had seen and heard. The two sat together companionably until Riddhi appeared before them, hand in hand with her poet. Behind them came Siddhi, looking as suspicious of this suitor as Ganesha had been when he had first heard of him.
Prem Purana Page 2