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The first few chapters for yoru reading pleasure. Please note that the matter is copyrighted. (C) Dr L.Prakash. Email at drlprakash@gmail.com for permission to copy excerpts.
Mahabharatha is undoubtedly greatest story ever documented. Written by Parasharaputra Krishnadwapayna, also popularly known as Veda Vyasa, about four thousand years ago, this is considered by many to be the greatest historical romance ever written. More than double the combined length of Iliad and Odyssey, the thousand stories of this grand epic have been told and re told by grand mothers all over the country.
Children of the present generation, and adults too; without such grand mothers, have been denied reading and savoring this delectable literary dish and had to do with second hand experiences of movies, cartoons or television serials.
The Magnificent rendering by Dr. L. Prakash gives you a first hand experience of this awesome epic, and it is guaranteed that the instant you start with the first chapter, you will not put it down till you have reached the last page.
Dr. L. Prakash’s Mahabharatha in four volumes, published by Banana Books.
More than half a million words
Two hundred and sixty chapters
Four volumes of approximately five hundred pages each
Available in two editions
Deluxe hard cover library edition and Commercial paperback edition.
Herewith, we give you excerpts from this brilliant rendering by Dr. L. Prakash by including the first five chapters.
1 SHIVA AND PARVATHI
“Stop! STOP! You scoundrel! Who are you? And how dare you barge in like this? You sure look a dangerous and obnoxious person. It is for guarding against scum like you, that my mother has asked me to stay here”
Though the boy was young, his face shone with intelligence and eyes blazed with anger as he challenged the intruder. One look at the intruder would clearly indicate that the young fellow was correct in his apprehensions. He was unclean, shaggy and dirty. His long hair was coiled into sticky knots. His neck was blue. Snakes dangled around his neck hissing and slithering. The animal skins that he wore were tatty, torn and moth eaten. Scorpions and other poisonous creatures slithered over his body. His body was smeared with ash from the burial ground and eyes were aglow with anger and intoxicants.
Despite his horrible appearance, the intruder did not seem to scare the young lad who faced him defiantly and glowered at him bravely. The snakes hissed. The spiders crawled. The intruder’s body shivered. He looked at the young fellow with disbelief. How can any one be so careless and arrogant to defy him? For, was he not Shiva or Parameshwara the ultimate God? (Param = Ultimate. Eshwara = Lord of God)
Everything in this universe has three phases to it. The phase of creation, the phase of perpetration, and the phase of destruction. Hindu mythology propounds that a holy trinity controls the above phases. The four headed Brahma with eyes facing all the four directions is the creator. The blue skinned Vishnu reclining on an immense lotus bed atop the spread hood of a dinosaur snake Adishesha is the perpetrator. And Parameshwara, or the god with a third eye, Lord Shiva is the destroyer.
Between them, the three gods of the holy trinity controlled the lives and fates of all the beings in this universe. And these beings included the demigods and mortals. The demigods who occupied the heavens were Devas, Asuras, Gandharvas and Yakshas. The mortals who occupied the earth were the humans. It was only natural that both the humans and celestials owed their being and existence to the holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva.
Of the three, lord Shiva was the most respected and feared because of his fiery temper. The third eye in the middle of his forehead remained closed all the time, but the instant it opened, everything in sight would be burnt to cinders. Thus Shiva was shocked that some one, and that too a young boy had the courage to defy him. He simply could not believe his eyes.
Lord Shiva, the destroyer, lived on Mount Kailasha, the tallest mountains in the world with his wife-consort Parvathi. Though Maheshwara, or Parameshwara, as he was otherwise called, had a fiery and foul temper, he was also known to be a benevolent and large hearted God. He was a destroyer no doubt, but did not destroy things till their time came to an end.
Once in the past when Devas and Asuras had landed into deep trouble, it was none else but Shiva who had come to their rescue. This was the event that had produced his blue neck and attracted poisonous snakes, who now permanently resided as his live garlands. It had all happened thus.
Devas and Asuras fought perpetually. It was more or less a well matched battle and neither team could score a permanent victory. While Devas with their fair skin, handsome faces, blazing intelligence, cunning, and sheer devotion to the gods were the favorites, Asuras with their coal black oily skin, curly hair, sharp pointed teeth, low intellect, and lack of devotion ended up second best. Thus Devas were victorious more often than Asuras and at that time controlled the heavens. The Asuras or Rakshasas however were a resilient and persistent lot who bounced back after each defeat!
The Devas were then advised by their Guru Brihaspati that the only way in which they could gain supremacy over Asuras would be by drinking Amritha or the Elixir of life. This Amritha was a part of nine gems or Navarathnas that lay deep in the belly of the oceans. However Guru Brihaspati also told the Devas that to extract the gems from the sea belly was not quite an easy job. It was certainly not within the capabilities of the Devas alone to do it.
Only by uprooting an immense mountain and using the celestial dinosaur serpent Vasuki as a rope to churn the ocean, could the nine gems be extracted. And Devas could certainly not churn the seas alone. They would have to temporarily forget their enmity with Asuras and join hands, with their foes if they wanted the Nava Rathnas.
It is an interesting story as to how the Devas called for a temporary truce and jointly conducted a Samudra-Manthana (Sea churning operations) to extract the nine gems. It is also interesting, the clever way in which the Devas cheated the Asuras out of Amritha. But that story would be narrated at a later stage. It was the third gem which emerged during the sea churning that caused serious problems, for solving which the Devas and Asuras had rushed to Shiva!
The third gem to emerge out of the oceans, churned out by the mighty dinosaur serpent Vasuki, was the pot of Visha, the most potent poison in the universe. So toxic was it, that the moment the sizzling pot emerged from the frothy waters, the atmosphere clouded over and a chill darkness, descended all around. Plants scorched up, lands dried, rivers disappeared and people started dying. It was clear that if something was not done soon, the whole universe would succumb to the toxic Visha.
The Devas and Asuras rushed to Vishnu the God perpetrator, who directed them to Shiva. Shiva was possibly the only one in the universe who could handle the stuff. However the Visha was too toxic for even Shiva who would surely die if he drank it. Nevertheless it could not be left exposed and something had to be done, and that to rather quickly. Maheshwara thus picked up the Visha pot, took it to his lips and swallowed it whole. However he did not allow the poison too dribble to his stomach but retained it in his throat. This imparted a deep blue color to his neck which earned him the name of Neelakantha.
So powerful was the poison that it attracted poisonous cobras and vipers who took up a permanent residence around his neck. The poison, retained in the neck, spread out a constant ache and pain, to forget which, lord Shiva partook intoxicants and alcohol in large quantities. He would occasionally wander away on walkabouts and remain missing for days, weeks and months together.
During his prolonged absences, goddess Parvathi was left alone and had to bear the boredom and solitude. However since the arrival of her son Vinayaka, Parvathi became busy and life was back to normal. This time Shiva had left for a fairly prolonged period. Vinayaka was a tiny babe in arms when he had departed.
When Shiva returned, the child had blossomed to a young lad of about eight or nine. It was only natural that Shiva did not recognize his son Vinayaka who once again challenged the intruder.
“Who are you? You look like a dangerous beggar with poisonous creatures dangling all over your body. Dare not enter, for my mother is having her bath”.
Shiva in his dazed state could not recognize his son. He was a God, and considered himself to be the most powerful of the holy trinity. He could hardly tolerate such nonsense from a tiny lad. In a fit of anger he pulled out his sword and in a single clean sweep, clearly severed the young boy’s head that flew out and fell down the deep depths of the ravines to be lost irrecoverably. He kicked the body aside which was spurting large springs of blood staining the White Mountain snow into sticky red. With a bellow of satisfaction he charged into the cave.
Parvathi who had just finished her bath was coming out; when she saw her lord & master enter. It had been so long since his departure that Parvathi was longing for him. Through his glazed and unfocussed eyes, Shiva looked at Parvathi, as she rushed forward with tears of joy streaking her cheeks, as she fell on her master’s feet, and started describing how much she had missed him. Shiva raised Parvathi to her feet and gave her a tight embrace. She tearfully told her husband that if it were not the company, love and compassion, provided by their son Vinayaka; the loneliness would have made her crazy. As she described her son as the boldest, bravest and the most intelligent young boy in the three worlds, Shiva’s drug deluded mind registered something. Something in the back of his mind told him that all was not well.
Parvathi said “Oh my lord and master! I am so happy that you have come back. Come with me and I will show you our son Vinayaka. Come with me and feel the pleasure of embracing your own son. Feel his tiny heart beating against your chest as you hug him. Look at his sparkling eyes shine with intelligence. And feel the flowers blooming in your heart as you look at his lovely pink lips part in a dazzling smile as he displays his white and even teeth”.
She grabbed Shiva’s wrist and rushed out of the cave calling out aloud to her beloved son, without bothering to look down on the snow covered floor where his dead and decapitated body lay. With the coiled snakes hissing aloud and the scorpions clinging to his tatty animal skins, Shiva followed his wife out in a daze. His mind was telling him that he had committed a grave error, but at that moment he was not able to exactly pinpoint what he had done.
Parvathi’s shouts echoed in the mountains but the young boy did not come running into her arms as she had expected. At first she was confused. As a few more cries did not produce her son, she grew anxious and worried. In a hurry she started searching and then stumbled on the slain body of Vinayaka. She took in the rumpled life-less form, the smooth white skin, the almost warm hands and legs, and the missing head beyond the clearly severed neck. The blood had congealed to a dull brown puddle that had attracted a few buzzing flies. It took her a few moments to recognize that the tiny form lying dead and helpless was that of her son Vinayaka. The shock kept her dazed for a few seconds. She then sat down on the floor, pulled up the small body and kept it on her lap. It took her a few moments and then her ear shattering wail of agony echoed through the mountains.
In between her uncontrollable sobs of anguish, Parvathi informed Shiva that the dead child lying headless on the ground was their son. It did not take her long to understand that it was her husband who in his state of confusion had decapitated his own son. Through her sobs and tears she said
“Oh Lord and master! What have you done? Agreed that you are the supreme lord. Agreed that you are the destroyer of everything that has lived its time. But what sin has your innocent son committed to deserve a fate as cruel as this? You have killed him, before his time for no fault of his!”
And as she was wailing thus, the effects of the intoxicants that had befuddled Shiva’s mind and brains started coming down. He realized the gravity of the blunder. He bent down and touched the body which was still warm. Shiva was an excellent surgeon and to re-implant a severed extremity was not too difficult a job for him. All he had to do was to collect the head before it was too late and sew it back onto Vinayaka’s body. Hastily he walked to the edge of the mountain where he had kicked his son’s head. He bent down to look at the bottomless chasm covered with ice and snow. In the wide expanse, he could only see the whiteness of the snow. Of his son’s decapitated head, he saw no sign. Shiva was worried because the body was getting cold and without the head, he was helpless to do anything.
Just then his ears picked up the noise of a trumpeting elephant. Both Parvathi and Shiva looked up and saw a small herd of mountain elephants walking in a single file. In the lead was an immense bull elephant with huge tuskers. Its large ears were almost torn to shreds and flapped gently as the huge and heavy pachyderm thundered its way in the snow as its hoofs carved cylindrical indentations. A cow elephant was walking a few steps behind the bull, its trunk occasionally touching the hind limbs of the tusker in the lead. And just behind her, was a baby elephant calf that had its tiny trunk twisted around the tail of the mother, walking in quick steps to keep up with the widely spaced steps of the bull in the lead.
The moment lord Shiva saw the tiny elephant he had an idea. He told Parvathi not to worry. He assured her that quite soon he will set things right. Getting up, he walked quickly to the elephant herd, and addressed the father elephant in the lead
“Oh king of the Jungle! Oh bearer of large white tuskers! Oh owner of a magnificent trunk! I Lord Shiva, the God of Gods stand before you with folded hands, to ask a great favor”
The father elephant raised his trunk and let out a trumpet. He then bowed his head, flapped his ears and raised his trunk to salute the God. He said
“Oh Lord of Lords, Oh Parameshwara! I am at your service. I shall give you whatever is there in my power”
God Shiva spoke softly.
“I have lost my son and would like to adopt your son. Give me the baby elephant and I assure you that not only will he get the best up-bringing, but will also be revered and prayed as a god for all the times to come. Forever and till eternity! This is my promise to you”.
The mother and father elephant had a small discussion. They decided that they could not refuse the lord. Pleased with the promise that their son would be revered and respected for eternity, they tearfully handed over the baby elephant to Shiva who carried the wriggling heavy form to the top of the mountains, where a distraught and wailing Parvathi waited for him.
By now all his intoxication had disappeared. Shiva’s sober mind was working in top gear planning the extensive and delicate surgical procedure. With great and profound surgical skills, he removed the baby elephant’s head from its body and with care and precision, implanted it over the neck of his dead son Vinayaka. It was a complicated procedure, which only Shiva was capable of, but he did it with extreme care and total precision. He then breathed a whiff of life into the body.
With a slight lift to the trunk and a minimal flap to the ears, the young boy with elephant’s head came to life. He opened his eyes to focus on his surroundings and as the images became sharper, saw the tear stained eyes of Parvathi first. Close to her, he saw the tired and sweat drenched form of Shiva, with a couple of cobras dangling round his neck. The moment Parvathi saw her son open his elephant eyes; she rushed to him and picked him up in her arms. She gave a loud squeal of joy while she hugged the elephant headed boy. To her it did not matter that it was a half human, half elephant. She wanted her son alive and here he was, gently wiping her tears with his tiny and soft trunk.
Shiva saw his wife and son in tight embrace and said, “He will be called Ganesha. With his large brains, he will be the most brainy and intelligent person in the three worlds. His name and fame will grow by leaps and bounds”.
The young Ganesha gave a smile and flapped his ears, though he could not understand most of what his father was saying. With his trunk, he pulled out a banana and fed it into his mouth, while Shiva continued
“When the great sage Veda Vyasa conceives and narrates the greatest story of all times, the only person in the three worlds who would have retentive memory to grasp and write the epic would be Ganesha. With time, this epic of Mahabharata will become immortal and so will the writer Ganesha. My son! You will make us all very proud of you”.
And thus when the sage Veda Vyasa dictated the epic of Mahabharata, it was Ganesha the scribe, who wrote the text.
2 THE EIGHTH MIRACLE
Lord Vishnu, the perpetrator of our universe was unique among the members of the holy trinity because he alone periodically visited the earth, took a human form and spent some time as a mortal with his creations. This was in the form of Avataras or divine reincarnations. The most popular of his Avatara is that of Sree Krishna who is also an important character in Mahabharatha.
Lord Krishna is a wonderful character in the immortal Saga of Mahabharatha and he started his life with miracles. His childhood miracles, consisting of sixty four unique unusual and unbelievable wonders, are called the Bala Leela. (Childhood-adventures). The immortal epic of Mahabharatha was his eighth miracle.
The full story of Lord Krishna would be narrated at the appropriate time, but here is how the eighth miracle and the conception of Mahabharatha the epic, came about. Krishna was the eighth child of the couple Devaki and Vasudeva and was born deep down in the basement prison of his uncle’s palace. Kamsa was the wicked king who had been warned by a prophesy that the last child born to his sister would slay him. He had thus imprisoned her and Vasudeva so that he could collect the children as they were born and slay them by splattering their heads against a huge granite boulder. He had already killed seven children and awaited the birth of the eighth.
Lord Vishnu took the avatara of Krishna and descended on the earth to vanquish evil and fight for righteousness. It was the eighth day of the eighth month of the year. At eight in the evening the miracles began. They were all a part of Krishna’s Bala Leela.
The clouds suddenly gathered and soon it was raining so terribly that the city roads got quickly flooded. This was the first miracle. Devaki was in labor pains and Vasudeva waited anxiously beside her. Kansa was anxious too, for this would be the birth of the child who would kill him. But on that night he suddenly felt drowsy and despite the raging thunder storms and crashing lightening, slept like a log of wood or a fallen tree. This was the second miracle.
And then the miracles started happening in quick succession. Krishna was born and filled the prison with his glow and charm. The locks automatically fell open. The third miracle. The guards were all seized by a sudden attack of deep sleep producing the fourth miracle. The fifth miracle was the spontaneous opening of the massive prison doors which slid out noiselessly. Vasudeva knew that the only way to ensure Krishna’s survival was to quickly shift him to safety to Brindavan, which was beyond river Yamuna. The anxious father procured a wicker basket from the kitchen store, placed the new born Krishna in it and walked out of the prison in the thunderous rain. He walked quickly to river Yamuna but could not move further because the swollen river was turbulent agitating and throwing up immense waves. Then happened the sixth miracle when the waters suddenly receded to knee length and produced a clear passage for Vasudeva to wade across.
Basket on his head, Vasudeva entered the water as the rain continued to lash incessantly and thunder clapped at periodic intervals. Then happened the seventh miracle. A gigantic snake named Adishesha made its appearance in the water and started swimming behind Vasudeva. It then rose up its hood to form a protective umbrella over the basket. This was the seventh miracle.
And then happened the eighth miracle that led to the conception and narration of this wonderful epic of Mahabharatha. A pipal leaf floated in the turbulent water and the infant in the basket picked it up. With his tiny hands he crushed it into a ball and tossed it into the churning river. Vasudeva was so intent on crossing the river, that he did not pay any particular attention to this. Soon father and son had reached the opposite bank while the snake had slithered away. Father and son had finally reached the city of Brindavan where Krishna would spend his childhood and perform numerous additional miracles. All these would be narrated at an appropriate stage. For the moment let us follow the crumpled leaf that had straightened itself and was flowing down stream with the river.
The leaf traveled a great distance and the next morning caught the attention of a young sage who was performing his morning rituals in Yamuna. He bent down and picked up the floating leaf. The crumples had produced a pattern which appeared very much like the Sanskrit Devanagari alphabet “Ka’. This young sage was named Krishna Dwapayana. Krishna because he was dark. Dwapayana because he was born on an island or Dweepa. He later became famous as Vyasa or Veda Vyasa.
When the young Sage picked up the leaf, he was seized by sudden and complex emotions. First he only saw the letter ‘Ka’. But then it appeared as if a string of words, phrases, couplets and slokas were streaming out of this single letter. This leaf with a single alphabet appeared to be the beginning of everything. Nevertheless it was all too much for the young sage.
He realized that he could not continue to stare at the leaf because it would certainly befuddle his mind. He quickly folded it into two and tucked it into his clothes. Later when Krishna Dwapayana returned to his hermitage ashrama he unfolded the leaf yet once again, and exactly similar things happened. First was the word. Then the streaming alphabets. Finally the fountainhead of an epic, flowing from the single alphabet on the leaf.
Dwapayana was confused. He folded the leaf once again because he was certain that he would go mad if he kept staring at the flowing letters. He was unaware that this was lord Krishna’s eighth miracle. He decided to consult his father in this regard.
The young sage’s father was saint Parashara, a sage of great repute. The son had to travel many days to reach his fathers hermitage in the jungle. After salutation, prostrations and fond huggings, the son confided his problem to his father. He also handed over the dried up, folded pipal leaf. Parashara was an all knowing sage, but he too was perplexed when he unfolded the leaf. Like his son he saw the flowing words, but this was not all. He also saw vivid and flashing images. He saw a great war being fought. He heard the battle cries and elephant trumpets. He heard the clang of swords and shrieks of the dead and wounded. Parashara also smelt the blood, and death. He quickly refolded the leaf. A curious Dwapayana asked
“Oh venerated father! What is this? What message does this pipal leaf convey? What is the meaning of the words that flow out endlessly? And why do I hallucinate and see images on the leaf?”
By now Parashara had solved the problem and his lips broke out into a wide smile. He was able to identify the leaf as one of Vishnu’s miracles and a Bala Leela of Lord Krishna. He also understood that his son was unique and had an important place in world history as a chronicler of the world’s greatest epic. He explained to his son thus
“Oh Krishna! Knowledge deteriorates over a period of time if it is not properly evaluated, documented and catalogued. Thus for every era there would be a librarian whose job would be to collect, collate, catalogue and arrange all the knowledge known to mankind. This librarian is called a Vyasa. I am the twenty sixth Vyasa and this leaf is the oracle that you are the next in line!”
Dwapayana was both scared and excited. Excited; because he was being entrusted with such a great responsibility which would make his name immortal for eons and centuries. Scared; because he was not sure if he would be able to discharge his responsibilities properly. For being a Vyasa was an onerous and immense responsibility indeed.
Lord Brahma himself had been first Vyasa followed by Prajapathi, Shukra, Brithaspati and Surya.
The illustrious line descended down to Tomabindu and then to Valmeeki who was the twenty fifth Vyasa. Parashara was the twenty sixth and now Dwapayana was being told that he was next in line.
“Well Son! It is an onerous responsibility indeed. First you would have to catalogue, arrange and copy all the four Vedas. Then you would have to do the same thing with the puranas and ardha-puranas. It is not an easy job but I assure you that the satisfaction of a job well completed, would be like nothing else that you would have experienced in your life”.
Dwapayana had been able to overcome his shock and surprise. As he collected the folded leaf from his father he asked his question.
“But honorable father. What about this leaf? What does it signify? What is it trying to convey?”
Sage Parashara had an enigmatic smile on his face.
“Well Son! Forget about this leaf for the moment. You don’t have either the physical maturity or intellectual capacity, to grasp its meaning. You are too young. However a time would come when you would be old and wise to understand it!”
“But father! What exactly is it?”
“Well Son! It is the beginning of the greatest story ever told and you are destined to chronicle it!”
Parashara was not willing to explain further and Krishna Dwapayana returned back to his hermitage with the folded leaf. Years passed and Krishna Dwapayana did all that was expected of him as a librarian and a cataloguer of knowledge. Soon he was famous and popular as Veda Vyasa. It was this Veda Vyasa who eventually wrote the wonderful epic of Mahabharata which is considered by many as the longest and most complex story ever told. And it all began with a floating pipal leaf which Lord Vishnu had used as Krishna’s eighth miracle.
3 VYASA THE WRITER
Parashara was a famous sage of great repute. His knowledge of the Vedas and scriptures was unparalleled. There was no greater scholar than him in his times. And it was only natural that his son Vyasa would follow the father’s foot steps. Over the years, young Vyasa became so proficient in scriptures and knowledge that he came to be known as Veda Vyasa. This meant Vyasa who had mastered the Vedas. As time passed Vyasa developed into an incomparable teacher and an unparalleled writer. His description and narration was so well appreciated by the disciples and people around him that he came to be known as Bhagwan Vyasa.
It was the genius of Vyasa that gave the world the immortal epic of Mahabharata. Mahabharata is not only a story of epic proportions, but it is also an expression of the philosophy of right and wrong. Bhagwad Gita, which is a small part of Mahabharata, is universally famous as a book of knowledge and a doctrine of philosophy. After Vyasa had completed the Vedas and Puranas, he took a spell of rest. By now he was past middle age and had almost forgotten about the folded pipal leaf tucked beneath his stack of Palmyra leaves. And then one fine day, when he was tidying up his ashrama, he stumbled on the leaf. It was now old and dry but by lord Krishna’s miracle still looked fresh and supple. This time when Vyasa unfolded it, his mind was suddenly filled with knowledge and wisdom. His lips spontaneously broke out into slokas which flowed out of his mouth like water from a high fall. It was then that the story of the great epic crystallized in Vyasa mind. When Vyasa conceived Mahabharata, he realized that it was an epic of phenomenal proportions. It was an era before the advent of laptops and computers. It was even before the age of pen and paper. Writings used to be painstakingly carved on Palmyra leaves with a sharp stylus. As Vyasa conceived the epic, he realized that he needed an efficient stenographer to take down his dictation. Vyasa sought the help of sage Narada, the sage of Gods, in locating someone who would be able to write correctly and flawlessly. After a bit of thought, Narada advised Vyasa to meditate to Lord Brahma the creator.
Agreeing with Narada, Vyasa sat in meditation invoking the blessings of Brahma. After a prolonged meditation, the creator appeared before him and said
“Oh wise sage, I am pleased by your dedication and devotion. Tell me why you meditate thinking of me?
Vyasa replied
“Oh great lord, I have conceived a big epic which encompasses a few generations and thousands of events. I find that though the ideas fill my mind threatening to bubble over, yet I cannot write it down as fast as my mind can think. I seek an appropriate person to help me in this work. As a creator, there is nothing in the three worlds that you are not aware of. Oh great lord, please help me in locating a scribe!”
Lord Brahma thought for a moment and said
“Oh Vyasa you have indeed come to the right place. Of the inhabitants of the three worlds, amongst Gods, Devas, Asuras, Gandharvas, Yakshas and Man, I cannot think of anyone with brains and intelligence greater than Ganesha. He is the son of Lord Shiva and Goddess Parvathi. In my opinion it is only he, who has the intellect and grey matter to do your bidding”
Vyasa replied, “Oh lord Brahma, as per your advice I will offer prayers and request Ganapathy to be my steno and scribe. However; will a person of his stature be willing to undertake such a task? What incentive should I offer him?”
With a smile lord Brahma answered Vyasa.
“Ganesha is the son of Shiva and Parvathi. Being a child of God, he is never in any material needs. Thus you cannot tempt him with any material stimulus. However Ganesha too has his weak points. He is proud of his brains and intellect and he is still a child at heart. If you are able to convince him that he is the only person with the capacity to understand and write your epic, then his ego will surely make him to agree with you”
Vyasa understood Brahma and thanked the creator for his valuable advice. Having satisfied his devotee, Brahma disappeared into the heavens. Vyasa sat about invoking the blessings and presence of lord Ganesha. After an appropriate prayer and meditation, lord Ganesha appeared before Parashara’s son Vyasa. Ganesha flapped his ears, and lifted his trunk. With a smile on his lips and a twinkle in his eyes he addressed Vyasa thus
“Oh great sage Veda Vyasa, I salute you. Impressed by your prayers and meditation, I present myself before you. Please tell me what I, Ganesha, the son of God Shiva and Goddess Parvathi can do for you?”
Vyasa saluted with a great devotion and said
“Oh great one, I salute you. Of all the beings in all the three worlds, amongst Devas, Gods, Asuras, Yakshas, Gandharvas and man, I do not find any one with as much brains or intellect as you. I need a favor which only you can perform.” Ganesha gave a smile as his trunk twisted and ears flapped. He said
“What you say about my brains is quite true. Please feel free and tell me what you want”
Vyasa said “Oh great god, I have conceived a vast epic Mahabharata! It is a long narrative with complex characters and thousands of inter linked events. I find that my brains and hands cannot work at the same time with the same speed. I can think fast but my limbs do not follow the speed of my thought. I need some one with brains and skills like you to write down the epic as I dictate it”
Ganesha had a naughty twinkle in his eyes as he addressed sage Vyasa
“So you really think that your brain has speed and your intellect a tempo, which is faster than your fingers? If that is really true, it stands to reason that the only person with intellect and co-ordination better than yours is me, Ganesha. And if what you say about your brains and intellect is true, then I shall surely help you”
Vyasa was quite clever and could realize that Ganesha was trying to get him into a trap. His answer attempted to avoid the trap and assuage Ganesha’s ego. He said
“Oh mighty Vinayaka, I would be telling a blatant lie if I claim that either my thinking speed or intellect approaches yours even closely. What I want to convey is that, among the people in the three worlds I have not been able to find anyone at all, with brains approaching yours”.
This seemed to please Vinayaka. He replied “So what do you suggest that I do for you?”
Veda Vyasa replied, “I will compose the epic mentally and sing it aloud for you in a sequence. All I want from you, is to take a dictation and write it on the palm leaves so that it remains intact for posterity and our future generation”
As Brahma had forewarned Vyasa, Ganesha was too smart to accept Vyasa’s request without any conditions. He gave a mischievous smile, and his large ears flapped as he said
“Well sage Vyasa, I agree to give it a try but on one condition. Once I start writing, I shall continue non stop without a pause. You have to continue dictating without stopping. The moment you stop, I shall also stop. If you are willing to agree to this, I shall accept to be your scribe”
Veda Vyasa was in a predicament. He could simply not fulfill the stipulations of Ganesha. The epic was too long and could take days, weeks or even months to complete. How could he continue to dictate non stop for such a long period? Fortunately Vyasa was endowed with a great wisdom and it did not take him long to find an appropriate solution. He said
“Oh lord Vinayaka, I agree to you but with two conditions. Firstly you must not put your stylus to the palm leaf to start writing a sloka, unless you have grasped its meaning fully. And once you have grasped the meaning of a particular sloka, you must not hesitate or pause until you have finished writing it”
This challenge intrigued and impressed Ganesha and he agreed to both the conditions immediately. Veda Vyasa took a deep breath and started singing the stanzas and slokas one after another. Ganesha picked up the stylus and started carving the words. Such was the wonderful co-ordination between Vyasa’s utterances and Ganesha’s speed of writing that Gods and Goddesses from the three worlds paused to look at the masterpiece. Sage Vyasa was quite clever. When ever he had to take sometime off for his personal and private works; he composed a stanza which was very complicated and difficult to understand. By the time Ganesha could comprehend the meaning and carve it on the Palmyra leaves, Vyasa would be back to continue with his dictations. And in this manner Vyasa dictated and Ganesha wrote. Bit by bit the slokas accumulated, telling in detail this wonderful story and a divine epic. While Ganesha was furiously writing a sloka, his stylus broke halfway through. Remembering his promise to write nonstop, Ganesha immediately broke off his left tusk snapping it at its root. He used the sharp point of his broken tusk to continue the rest of the epic. And it is because of this that we find all the idols and icons of Lord Ganesha with a broken tusk.
And thus over days, weeks and months, Mahabharata came to be written. It was written in Devanagari script. Devanagari means the language of Gods. The language used by sage Vyasa was Sanskrit and it was written down in slokas. Each sloka or a couplet is composed of two lines and contains between six and sixteen words. The language was flawless and expressions lucid. And towards the end while Vyasa was narrating a sloka about lord Yama’s discussion with Yudhishtra, while the latter was about to die, Veda Vyasa paused. At that moment Ganesha stopped writing.
Thus with the combined efforts of Vyasa’s voice and Ganesha’s writing, this immemorial epic came into existence. Once it was completed, Vyasa started teaching and expounding it to his disciples. His son Suka was his first disciple who read and memorized the epic. Over a period of time the fame of Mahabharata spread far and wide. Sage Narada told it to the Devas in heavens. Suka narrated the epic to Gandharvas, Rakshasas and Yakshas. And it was Vaishampaya, the chief disciple of Veda Vyasa who narrated the epic to the benefit of human beings.
King Parikshit was the grand son of the Pandavas and a grand nephew of Lord Krishna. It was in his crowded court amongst hundreds of devout spectators and listeners, that Vaishampaya told the entire story that stretched over many generations. It is said that our times are divided into four stages or durations. Satyuga was the time of truth. This was followed by Dwapara when lord Vishnu came to this earth as Rama. This was followed by Treta, where lord Vishnu was born as a human in the form of Krishna. When Parikshit ascended the throne to Hastinapura, the Yuga of Treta had ended and Kaliyuga or the age of adharma and low morals had made its appearance. To the assembled courtiers of king Parikshit’s court, Vaishampaya spoke thus
“Of the holy trinity, Brahma is our creator, Vishnu our perpetrator and Shiva our destroyer. Of the three, Vishnu is the most important because he is responsible for our day-to-day living and sustenance. To help the humans and to keep an eye on the happenings on this world, lord Vishnu has been coming down to earth, from time immemorial. Each time he comes to visit us, he comes in a special form called an Avatara”
He continued “Scriptures tell us that there are ten such situations when lord would come down to earth. The eighth avatara is that of lord Krishna who is a pivotal character in the epic of Mahabharata that I am going to narrate to you now. Lord Vishnu being the perpetrator of life was always curious about happenings on his beloved earth and has come here many times!
“In Krishna, lord Vishnu was a poorna avatara in a total embodiment of God. His advices and discourses to Arjuna prior to the Mahabharata war has been documented by Ganesha as dictated by sage Veda Vyasa. This forms the immortal classic of Bhagwad Gita which lays down the principles and doctrines of life. It tells us mortals, the difference between right and wrong, fair and foul, and Dharma and Adharma.”
“The story of Mahabharata tells as about the ways of righteousness and the ways of Dharma. It is a complex story of emotions and actions that men and women commit in moments of passion. It tells of mortals who behaved like Gods, and wise men who behaved foolishly. From this great epic we can learn lessons that would teach us to lead a correct and proper life. From Mahabharata flows a source of knowledge, a single dip in which would cleanse a mortal of all sins and make him pure and sublime.”
Vaishampaya concluded his statements to the assembled crowd “I take this opportunity of narrating to you the immortal epic of Mahabharata.”
4 GANGA AND SHANTANU
Hastinapura means an empire of elephants. And young Shantanu was the king of this empire. He was young and bold. He was brave and intelligent. He was courageous and victorious. Under his glorious rule, the kingdom of Hastinapura lived in peace and tranquility. The subjects adored their king and wished that all kingdoms should be ruled by kings like Shantanu. In his kingdom, the taxes were just right to run the country, but not too much for the subject to feel a pinch. Law and order was well under control. Dacoity and thievery were practically extinct and it was said that a maiden decked in gold jewellery could walk through a street in moonlight and yet remain unmolested.
Shantanu’s interests like those of other kings during his times included a keen passion for hunting. Armed with his powerful bow, and a quiver full of the sharpest arrows, he would set out on his horse in search of a prey which could be a nimble fast running deer, or an aggressive charging wild boar. He hunted for sport and avoided reckless killings and rash slaying of animals. Once his passion for hunting got him to the dense forests in search of a spotted deer which disappeared into the bushes. Shantanu was in the lead, while his courtiers and hunting team was following close behind.
The deer was cunning and disappeared and reappeared from his view with a great regularity, leading him to the dense and dangerous areas of the deepest woods. And suddenly Shantanu heard the sound of a flowing river followed by a splashing noise. Thinking that his deer had jumped into the water, he galloped through the bushes that brought him to a clearing from where he could see the river Ganges, flowing majestically in a very wide stream of crystal clear water that appeared to be as pure as nectar.
He saw the swirling waters of the river Ganga as his eyes continued to search for the elusive deer, when he heard the splashing noise once again. He walked quickly to the shore after dismounting from the horse. As he came close, he saw a spectacle that dazzled him and left him bewitched. Bathing in the water, was a female form that was nubile like a nymphet. Dressed in white clothes with flowing black hair, a young girl was swimming, splashing and playing in the water. For a moment Shantanu just stood and stared.
The girl lifted her head out of water and shook it, swirling a fine spray of water droplets that fell on the turbulent surface of water. In that instant, Shantanu saw her face and could feel his beating heart pause, because he had not seen such a pretty and a bewitching face in his entire life. By then the nymph splayed her limbs and started swimming in masterly strokes over the river. As she swam, she and the river appeared almost one. At that time Shantanu was not to know that the lovely lady swimming in the water was none other than the river goddess Ganga herself. It would be much later that she would tell her true name and purpose.
For the moment Shantanu was too dazed and confused. Never in his life had he experienced such feelings and emotions. And so stunned was he, that his left hand which was holding his heavy metal bow automatically loosened its grip, dropping it on the hard rock of the river bed. The high pitched metallic noise of the heavy metal bow falling on the rocks reverberated over the low pitched hum of the flowing river and startled the girl who was half way in her swim. Ganga immediately turned her head towards the sound and saw Shantanu staring at her from the riverbank with a dumb and glazed expression on his face.
Seeing his predicament, Ganga gave a soft laugh, and the sounds echoed like a tiny silver bell tinkling in the temple as it cut across the silence and pierced Shantanu’s heart. She swam in a few deft strokes to the bank where Shantanu stood. Without waiting for Shantanu to assist her, she carelessly climbed out of the river bank, her nimble feet unusually firm on the slippery boulders that banked the river. She shook her hair, which sent fine droplets of water, flying in the air, a few of which delicately caressed Shantanu’s cheek, bringing him abruptly to his senses. The evening sun cast its golden yellow rays on Ganga illuminating her as if she was made up of gold.
In those times the king was the first citizen and enjoyed almost unlimited rights and powers. He could marry any girl and marry any number of girls. He could practice viloma, which meant marrying a woman of his own or higher caste, or partiloma which would mean marrying a person of low caste. He could practice Gandharva Vivaha or a non-ritual marriage that dispensed with all ceremonies. Thus any female that caught the fancy of the king was his for asking. But Shantanu was so impressed with the poise and beauty of Ganga that he felt tongue tied and unable to speak to her.
She looked so divine, that she almost looked like a Deva Kanya from heaven. Her manner was regal and poise royal. “How lucky I would be if she would become my queen and rule Hastinapura by my side” thought Shantanu. Unlike other women who would get scared and run away on seeing a king dressed in his regal finery, Ganga stood firm with a mischievous smile on her lips and a slight mock in her twinkling eyes. Shantanu decided to address her with respect due to any princess or queen and said “Oh lovely maiden, I am Shantanu the king of Hastinapura and the sole ruler of all the lands around you. My kingdom stretches to as far as your eyes can see in the four directions and then way beyond this. I am very happy and pleased to see you”.
He had expected a change in her attitude. He had also expected to hear her reply, which in normal course would be a humble statement narrating her name, father’s name and place of residence. But her behavior was totally unexpected. Instead of being scared and telling about herself in a low and subservient tone, she continued to look straight at Shantanu and said
“Oh! So this is the great prince Shantanu about whom I am hearing so much from everyone? The brave, handsome, intelligent and yet unmarried prince!”
Her voice was sweet as honey, her language and tongue had a touch of royalty and her manner divine. It almost appeared as it she was teasing him, without actually making fun of him. His curiosity about her was piqued. He smiled at her and said “A maiden as pretty as you would decidedly have a name that is prettier. Who is the fortunate father who has planted the seed that has borne a fruit as detectable as you? And who is the divine lady who has been fortunate enough to give birth to someone as royal and divine as you?”
It seemed that Ganga had a penchant of answering a question with a question. In the same voice and an exactly similar manner as before she said, “Why does the handsome king Shantanu require this information? Why does he want to know about the name of my honorable father and mother?”
Shantanu decided that it was the time to tell her about his feelings. He realized he may not find any one else as suitable as Ganga to be his queen. He summoned a smile to his face and said
“Oh heavenly maiden! I desire to meet your parents as soon as possible. I want to explain to them my origins and credentials. I would then like to ask your hand in marriage from them”.
Ganga did not seem to be surprised at this statement. It almost appeared as if she was expecting this from Shantanu. She gave a dazzling smile and said
“Oh! That is quite impossible!”
Shantanu was totally taken aback by this unexpected answer. But he persisted and asked again “What is impossible? Meeting your parents or marrying you?”
Ganga smiled and said. “I think that it is simply not possible” By now, Shantanu realized that he was totally and madly in love with her and that it would be impossible for him to lead a normal life without her besides him. He persisted “But why? Are you already married? Or is it that I am an unsuitable bridegroom? What do you want? My kingdom? My palace? My riches? I am willing to lay everything at your lovely feet if you agree to be my wife”.
On hearing this, the expression on Ganga’s face became a bit serious and thoughtful. As her brows knitted together in a frown of intense concentration, her face assumed a much more beautiful expression. She seemed to think for sometime before answering.
“I am not married. The only person who can decide whether to marry you or not is I alone. I might consider marrying you and becoming your wife but subject to certain conditions”
Shantanu replied with a baited breath “Any condition, absolutely any condition. You name it and I shall fulfill it”.
Ganga cautioned him “Think again before promising. What I ask of you might be too difficult for you to fulfill.”
Shantanu said “Oh pretty maiden, even if you wanted my life, I would immediately offer it to you”.
Ganga replied “Oh brave and handsome king, it is not your life that I want. If you want me to be yours, then you must agree to two conditions. You must never ask me who I am and where I come from. And once we are married, you must never question any of my action, or hinder me from doing any thing! I warn you that the moment you violate any of these conditions, I shall leave you and go away. If you agree to these conditions I shall agree to be your wife!”
Shantanu was filled with joy. At that moment the conditions seemed to be quite insignificant and trivial. He was willing to give her his entire kingdom, but all she was asking was anonymity and freedom of action. When Shantanu returned to his palace with the lovely maiden sitting beside him, the two of them looked like Indra and Devyani. The entire population came out of their houses to greet the couple as they rode joyously to the palace.
Shantanu married Ganga with a great pomp and show. If he had any fears or doubts about Ganga’s attitude or behavior after marriage, they were soon dispelled, when they started living together. Not only was she a pretty and devout wife, who gave him pleasure in every way, she also had great brains and intelligence, which allowed her to participate in running the kingdom. Sitting on the thrones besides each other, Shantanu and Ganga looked like lord Vishnu and Goddess Mahalakshmi. In the ripeness of time their love bore fruit and Ganga became pregnant. And exactly one year after their meeting in the jungle she gave birth to a lovely young boy.
When Shantanu saw his first born, he was overcome with joy. The boy was fair, well formed and had a gleam in his eyes. Even at birth he looked like a prince. The king and the capital city were agog with joy that Hastinapura had got its crown prince. But the situations took such a dramatic turn that it took Shantanu by shock and surprise. That evening, tired from the celebrations and activities as he entered his palace, he saw Ganga looking at and playing with the young lad. And then as Shantanu watched, Ganga wrapped the baby in a cloth bundle and hugged him to her chest. There was a curious look to her face as she got out of the palace hugging the child to her bosom.
Her unexpected and strange behavior surprised Shantanu. He did not want her to be aware of his presence and thus slowly followed without her knowledge. It was a moonlit night and Shantanu saw Ganga carry the baby with her and get into a chariot. Ganga elected to ride the chariot herself and it started with a clicking of the hoofs of the six horses, spraying dust in the moonlit night. Shantanu used the clatter of the chariots hoofs to camouflage his horse’s hoofs as he mounted and followed her at a discreet distance.
The reason why his wife was taking away his one day old child in a chariot at the middle of the night was plaguing him. Overwhelmed with curiosity and fear for his son’s safety, he followed her at a safe distance. He was surprised to see the chariot leave the capital city and ride towards the jungle. It drove deep into the thick jungles and stopped near the river Ganges. Leaving the charriot parked at the bank, Ganga got down with the baby still clutched to her bosom. She walked close to the river. The full moon was illuminating the river Ganges so that its surface appeared to be coated with thin film of silver. Its water was churning and agitating quite violently.
Shantanu hid behind the shade of a tree so that he could see Ganga quite clearly, without her being able to see him. Then Shantanu saw something that he thought was impossible. The full moon clearly illuminated the round face of the tiny child who looked as pretty as his mother. Ganga lifted the baby to her lips and very gently kissed his forehead. The noise of the child’s happy giggles, and coos could be heard clearly over the low pitch continuous drone of the river. She looked soulfully at her son once more and then tossed the bundle into the river.
The silent night was punctuated by the sudden sound of a splash as the bundle traveled the distance and hit the chill and violent waters of river Ganges. A sharp scream of terror from the tiny mouth was quickly cut off by the churning waters. As Ganga turned around, the moon light sharply illuminated her features and Shantanu saw a distinct smile on the young mother’s face which appeared quite sinister. Shantanu felt his tongue and throat become dry and parched as the desert sand. He could hear his heart thumping against his ribcage. He stood petrified and shocked, afraid to move even an inch least the rustle of the leaves make Ganga aware of his presence. He stood rooted to one spot as he saw Ganga quickly sprint to the chariot and drive towards the capital. He waited for the sounds of the horse hoofs to recede before he moved from his hiding. With leaden steps, he walked slowly, towards the edge of river Ganges. The moonlight still illuminated the surface of the river that churned and agitated like milk, as it roared its way roughly down hill.
Shantanu kept looking at the water for a long time but could not see either the cloth bundle or his child. With tears in his eyes and sorrow in his heart he walked towards the horse and mounted it. He was the most miserable and unhappy father in the whole world as he rode slowly towards his palace.
As he entered the royal chambers, he saw the smiling face of Ganga welcoming him as if nothing had happened. Her nature, activities and behavior was definitely not like that of a murderess. Nor was it like a mother who had lost her son. If anything, she seemed to be happy and contented as she hummed a melody and readied the bed in the royal chamber. Shantanu was so overcome with anger and grief that he wanted to scream at her and ask her why she had killed an innocent child. He was about to open his mouth when he remembered his promise. He would not ask her any questions and he would not object to anything that she did. With a heavy heart he walked to the royal bed and lay down. Despite Ganga’s ministrations, he found that sleep deluded him as he tossed and turned for the whole night thinking about the lovely round face of the son he had lost. He was upset and depressed for a long time. But Ganga was so loving and caring that slowly and gradually he came out of depression. Each time he looked at Ganga’s lovely face, he could hardly believe that it was this same divine and lovely lady who had so carelessly tossed her own son into the swirling waters of Ganges.
With a passage of time he got out of his depression and Ganga once again soothed and eased away all his physical and mental discomforts. Time heals the most serious of the wounds, and it healed the deep lacerations in Shantanu’s heart too. And after some time when he got the happy news that Ganga was pregnant again, his joy knew no bounds. In due course Ganga gave birth to another young boy, more handsome and pretty than her first.
Shantanu was pleased to hear about the birth of his son. But there was a nagging fear in the bottom of his heart for the safety of his newborn child. He waited for nightfall with a heart beating with anxiety. He prayed that Ganga should not act as she had done previously. But as the night fell, the same pattern was repeated. The child was bundled, hugged to her bosom and getting into the six horsed chariot she drove into the jungles, straight to the river.
Shantanu followed at a safe distance and watched with horror a repeat performance of what had happened the previous time. This time it was a moonless night and Shantanu’s gloom and despondency matched that of the dark night. He was so angry and upset that he did not go into the royal bed chamber that night.
The next day he was not surprised when he saw Ganga behave as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Despite his misgivings, her love, compassion and care for him remained undiminished, but this time it look a lot longer to regain his composure and frame of mind. Remembering his promise to the maiden, and not wanting to lose her at any cost, kept Shantanu quiet
But this was definitely not the end of his troubles, because the same thing happened again and again and yet again. Each year she gave birth to a child. And for seven consecutive years she continued to dump her newborn children into the river Ganges and killed them the very same night that they were born. In the ripeness of time she gave birth to her eighth child. Shantanu, who was present at the time of the child birth, was overwhelmed with joy when he saw this son. He was the prettiest and handsomest child that Ganga had borne. He was large in size for his age and his limbs were soft as butter. His eyes shone with a fierce energy of a Kshatriya and unlike other weeping children of his age, he gave a wide toothless smile, the first time he saw his father. As Shantanu picked up the tiny child and hugged him to his chest, he felt such a massive surge of paternal emotion flow through his veins that he promised to himself that he would never be separated from this child.
He told himself that he would guard this child. He would protect this young lad. He would play with him and watch him grow into a dashing and youthful prince who would take over the reigns of his kingdom after him. He would do all that was in his power to stop his anonymous wife from sacrificing this child too.
That night he waited patiently for the night fall. He was prepared with his horse as Ganga bundled the baby and carried him to the chariot. By now Shantanu had become quite bold and had stopped all attempts to hide that he was following her. He wanted to be close to her to stop her from doing anything cruel or tragic. Ganga followed exactly the same route and parked the chariot close to the banks of river Ganges. Carrying the baby bundled to her bosom she walked close to the river and was about to toss it in the river when Shantanu jumped down from his horse and rushed to her. He gave out a scream.
“Stop you witch. Are you a mother or a devil? Don’t you have an ounce of love and compassion in your heart? How can you murder your own children?”
Ganga stopped and turned around. She addressed the king.
“Oh king Shantanu, it is quite unfortunate that you have broken your promise. I have no option but to leave you and go. Actually I am Ganga, the river goddess Ganges. I am not a witch or devil that you abuse me to be. I have taken birth as a human being and given birth to your sons to fulfill a curse by sage Vashista”.
Shantanu was dumbfounded as he heard this. Ganga walked slowly towards him carrying his son. She addressed Shantanu
“This is your son Devavrata. He will be a great warrior and a famous Kshatriya. Generations will sing his praises. I am taking him away with me and will return him to you when the time is right.”
Shantanu was too shocked to do anything. She continued
“I will now tell you the story of sage Vashista, his cow Nandhini, and the eight Vasus, who stole the cow and got cursed in the bargain. Once you listen to the story, you will never again call me a demon or a witch.”
5 THE VASU BROTHERS AND SAGE VASHISTA
The Vasu brothers were Devas. Devas are the Gods who inhabit the heavens. The eight Vasu brothers with their wives once came to the earth for a holiday. And while they were roaming the earth, they climbed on the foothills of the Vindhya Range of mountains that contained the Ashrama of sage Vashishta. Vashishta was a Brahmin sage of great repute. He lived a simple and austere life devoted to prayers, meditations and yoga. An Ashrama is a place where Brahmin priests stay and perform their prayers and rituals.
The life of sage Vashishta was well disciplined and formed a strict routine. He had a cow gifted to him by Gods. This was a white cow which looked majestic and divine. She was called Nandhini and it was said that Nandhini’s milk contained the elixir of life. Each morning one of Vashishta’s disciples would milk Nandhini. This milk would be used for the sage’s daily prayers and rituals. The butter and ghee contributed to the fuel that burned the fires of the yagna that the sage and his disciples performed with great regularity and ritual perfection. Each morning the sage and his disciples would join together to start their prayers and pooja. By early morning they would disburse to the neighboring villages to beg for alms. It was a tradition in those times that a Brahmin sustained only on alms. They would spend the rest of the day in meditation, yogic practices and austerities. Vashishta and his disciples lead a spartan life, wore minimal clothes, and slept on the bare floor devoid of any comforts.
But a life of this form gave the sages a lot of power. If a sage was upset or unhappy, he could utter a curse and the same would distinctly follow its full course. And thus the sages like Vashishta were revered, respected and feared by all, including the kings. Devas who lived in the heavens however were a bit different. They had a chance of consuming amrita that was churned from the sea during samudra-manthan.
Devas thus were saved the ordeal of repeated births and deaths that a mortal has to undergo. The texts of our puranas tell us that a soul is eternal and undying. However the body that it inhabits is mortal and dies after its time. To be born as a mortal is to undergo the torture and troubles of repeated births and repeated deaths. Once the Devas consumed the amrita or elixir of life, they could get rid of the problem of being born again and again.
Thus though the mortals on earth, including the mightiest Kshatriya prince, would fear a sage of the level of Vashishta, the Devas considered themselves immune from his wrath and curses. Ashta Vasu were eight brothers. Ashta in Sanskrit is eight; the eight of them were wed to eight sisters. The sixteen of them were very close to each other. And thus when they came to the earth for a short picnic, the eight Vasus were accompanied by their wives. It was mid morning and sage Vashista and his disciples had gone out to the village to beg for their morning alms. Nandhini the divine cow, having contributed the morning milk was grazing in the grassy meadows of the mountain range. And one of the Vasus wives saw the cow. The moment her eyes befell Nandhini, she was over-awed. She had never seen such a majestic and good looking cow. The white lustrous skin, the tawny musculature and the ripe, full udders presented a spectacle to behold. The curious Vasu wife approached her husband, pointed to the cow and said
“What a divine and good looking animal. Wish that we take her with us to heavens”. The Vasu was shocked and aghast. He knew that Nandhini belonged to the renowned Sage Vashista. He spoke to his wife thus
“Oh beloved one, I do agree with you that this cow is really beautiful and divine looking. But she belongs to sage Vashista A cow is only useful for the mortals. Especially for sages like Vashishta. We are Devas. What use do we have of a cow?”
“See the magnificent udders. I am quite sure that her milk would taste sweeter than nectar!” said the wife once again.
The Vasu again tried to caution his wife “No doubt Nandhini’s milk is like amrita. I have even heard that gods have blessed this cow that her milk would be blessed with the properties of the elixir of life. But we are Devas. We are already immortal. What use do we have of Nandhini’s milk? And furthermore, it is unwise to take away a belonging of a pious man. His curse might harm us!”
But the wife was adamant. She said “My dear husband! I do not ask you the impossible. I do not ask something beyond your capabilities. All I ask you is a simple gift of the cow and calf. You are eight brothers. And all of you are Devas. Between eight such able bodied people, if you can’t even fulfill this small wish, then shame on you!”
So saying she started sobbing aloud. Vasu was swayed by the crocodile tears of his wife and addressed his brothers
“Oh brave brothers, let us encircle the cow and capture Nandhini and her calf. Before the sage and his disciples come back from their alms collection, we would be quite far away”.
Thus seven Vasus surrounded Nandhini while the last one snared, and sprinted her away to heavens. This act, done under the emotional blackmail of the women, proved to be a very costly mistake for the Vasus. When sage Vashista returned that evening, he needed milk for his nevaidyam and other rituals. His disciples searched high and low for Nandhini and the calf but in vain. Finally they came back to their Acharya and told him that the cow and calf were missing. Vashista could use his divine powers and find out how and where Nandhini was taken away.
He was so annoyed and angry with the Ashta Vasus that he gave them a curse. He cursed them that they should be born on earth like mortals and suffer the tortures of human life. So powerful was the sage’s curse that the Devas became instantly aware of its effect. When the news reached the eight Vasus they were very perturbed and worried. Sages say that there is no mistake that cannot be remedied by an apology. The eight Vasus quickly rushed to Vashista and prostrated on his feet. They apologized to the sage profusely. Vashista was a man who was good at heart and relented quickly. But a curse once given cannot be withdrawn. Only its effects can be minimized. Vashishta modified the curse thus.
“Once I give a curse, I cannot stop it from running its course, but as you have apologized with all your hearts and with total sincerity, I not only pardon you but lessen your curse as well. The seven of you who chased my cow and calf and surrounded them will be born as humans. But you will only have to live for a single day in the human form. After this one day ordeal, you will return back to your form of Devas. The eighth Vasu who actually caught Nandhini will have to suffer the full curse”.
“This eighth Vasu however will be born in a famous house hold, live a virtuous life and be a superman among all men. And even in his life as a human he will achieve great things.”
So saying Vashista departed to his Ashrama. He was feeling ashamed that he had uttered a curse in his anger. He assembled all his devotees and lectured them about the ills of anger and loosing one’s temper. Thereafter he continued his life of penance and austerities in his Ashrama.
The Vasus went back to their wives and told them about the sages pardon. The wife, whose tears had moved the Vasu to mastermind the stealing was quite upset and wailed and moaned at the mistake committed by her. The Vasus next job was to invoke the blessings of someone who would agree to be their mother and agree to give birth to their human forms. They prayed to Goddess Ganga and when she appeared before them, addressed her thus
“Oh mother Ganges! We have been cursed by the sage Vashista to be born as mortals. We request you to take the form of a mortal and descend down to the earth. There, we would request you to marry a deserving man. As his wife you should beget us as your children. Kill us the same day as we are born so that we can return to our original selves. You can leave the eighth Vasu on the earth to fulfill the prophecy of the sage”.
Ganga was a compassionate Goddess, and thus was easily persuaded by the Vasus pleadings. She agreed to descend to the earth as a human being. Shantanu was chosen as her husband, and the seven children that she had thrown into the Ganges were the seven Vasus.
Ganga finished her story and looked at Shantanu as she held the child in her hands and said
“Oh valiant prince! Do not despair. I am thus neither evil nor a killer as you think me of”.
Shantanu nodded his head as realization dawned on him that the person who had spent the last nine years with him as a wife was none other than Goddess Ganges. Ganga continued
“Do not feel bad, because I have to leave you now. We were only destined to spend nine years with each other. I am taking Devavrata with me and in due course I shall return him to you after he is fully trained to assume the responsibilities of a crown prince.”
Shantanu folded his hands and bowed his head with respect to the goddess who bore him his last son Devavrata. And then mother and child disappeared in the Ganges. Ganga was known as a universal mother because she was a mother to all, without distinction. But for Devavrata, she was a special mother because she had given birth to him. She thus brought him up with all love and compassion, which only a mother like Ganges could do. She sent her son to sage Vashista to learn the Vedas and puranas. The period that young Devavrata spent in the Gurukula, taught him sacrifice, austerity and simplicity. And the teachings of sage Vashista made him proficient in the Vedas and puranas.
From there, he was sent to Sukra to be taught the various arts and sciences. In the older times it was essential for the princes and royal descendants to first complete a study of theory of physical sciences and life sciences, before they could start training in weaponry and warfare. It was thought that a mastery of the theoretical sciences sharpened the intellect and made it more receptive to practical training.
From Sukra, Ganga sent Devavrata to Parashurama. Parashurama was a Brahmin, but an expert in arms & ammunitions. So great were his powers in the arts of weaponry and combat that even great Kshatriya kings and princess were afraid of him. From Parashurama, Devavrata learned the skills of weaponry and combat that made him equal to his master.
In the meanwhile Shantanu returned to the palace. He was saddened at the loss of his wife but glad to have got a son like Devavrata. He was impatient for the stipulated time of training to pass so that Ganga would unite Devavrata with him.
Many years later, Shantanu was in the jungles. As he passed by the Ganges he saw a young lad building a dam with arrows across the mighty river with a great skill. He was shooting the arrows which were bonding together and forming a dam. Even the mighty river was playing with the arrows as an indulgent mother with her child’s toys.
Shantanu stood to one side and examined the lad. His face had a tejas and glow that spoke of royal ancestors. His body was in a peak physical condition and his exemplary skills in archery were quite unbeatable. He sighed and told himself,
“My son too would be of this age now! I wish I knew how and where he was!’
And then suddenly Goddess Ganga appeared out of the river. As if reading Shantanu’s thoughts she gave him a smile and said
“Oh mighty king, the young lad you see is your son Devavrata! He has learnt the Vedas from Vashista, the arms and warfare from Parashurama, and arts and sciences from Sukra. Take him with you. He will bring you a great fame and popularity.”
So saying Ganga disappeared, leaving the father and son facing each other. It took just a moment for both of them to rush and hold the other in a tight embrace. Shantanu could not believe that the tiny child that Ganga had taken away had grown up so big and handsome. He addressed his son
“Oh Devavrata! Come with me to the capital. Tomorrow I shall crown you as yuvaraj (young king) or the crown prince. You will be the rightful ruler of Hastinapura after my time.” Father and son returned happily to the capital where Devavrata was crowned as the heir apparent with a great pomp and show. The citizens of Hasthinapura were very happy in having such a noble prince as Devavrata.To buy this book contact
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