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The God of War – 1
The Chinnamasta Devi
Nothing can stand between a woman and her way – this all men, who are experienced, do know. An enraged woman is more fierce than an angry tigress; if diversion is not possible, it is wisest to move away - be elsewhere, if submission is too expensive.
The Great Goddess, the Mahadevi, is the most womanly of women. Her rages, when Her way gets thwarted by Her husband, the Good Lord, the Mahadeva, are the most terrible. “Run, Shiva, run!” Had He done so, a lot of trouble could have been avoided. But our dear Lord Shiva, He has no guile, nor is He a coward. He is simple and straightforward. He simply repeated to his wife, Sati, “You must not go to your father’s house”. Must not, indeed! How dare He! What did He think he was? Her master? Was She His slave, to have to obey His wish? Did He think that She would be restricted anyhow? She was His equal, His partner, and this He had better know, in no uncertain terms.
And yet, She knew, She was bound to Him. She could not just leave Him, and do as She wished, as if the marriage bond meant nothing much. He had to agree to Her leaving Him to go to Her father’s house.
But She could go into terrible rages, and that She did. Our dear lord, Shiva, stood His ground. He was not finding any chance to explain.
In Her rage, and in efforts to frighten Shiva into submission, the Mahadevi took on the most horrible postures – far beyond the scope of any mortal woman. Finally She cut off Her own head, held it in one of Her hands, and directed the blood flowing out of Her neck into the mouth of Her severed head.
This form of the Mahadevi, Her most violent and terrible form, is known and worshipped to this day as the Chinnamasta Devi.
As we know, upon seeing this form of the Goddess, Shiva relented and gave Sati the permission She wanted. The consequences for that, He knew in advance, for Shiva is all-knowing, cutting through the barriers of Time. Yes, the consequences would be terrible, as Shiva knew full well. Why did he then stop remaining unmoved? Was it because in the Chinnamasta, with His Divine Vision He could see, resulting inevitably from that terrible form, the creation of his wonderful son, the Kumara? He, the most brilliant, the bravest, the invincible, the kindest, the most beautiful and the most charming of Gods – the Shuvramaniyam? How could He stop the birth of such a God!
The God of War – 2
The Marriage of Shiva
Other Gods may love finery and pleasure, but not Shiva, the Good. Lonely he existed, in the most remote haunts, meditating most deeply into the core of all things, to find sec rets unknown. In such search, there is no scope for any show-off. There is no competition! Practically all are incurious, self-satisfied, absorbed in their own immediate matters. “Let him be – he is mad, or in the grip of drugs.”
Only those blessed by Shiva may understand - little though it be - about the ways of the Great God, the Mahadev. To be single, alone, to roam for ever and ever the vast expanses of time and space, to probe into the deepest with the most minute detail; gaining ever increasing knowledge, strength, wisdom, insight, compassion… and not to be able to share! Is that a blessing or a curse, the grandeur of loneliness? Not to find, nor even to know, in the fleeting moments of conjugal intimacy, the reflection; and yet, what is not the reflection, of one’s innermost feelings and longings! Of what purpose the grand beauties and challenges of the universe, if all that remain confined to just the self’s experience - never to be shared, never to be continued? But where, where was the significant other? The One, who with Her magic, would transform His life, make new life?
Thus desire rose deeply in the Mahadev. It radiated from His being, spread through the aether, making all that was sensitive and desirable tremble with anticipation. All those who could feel, felt; no one felt more deeply than Sati, the daughter of the King Daksha, the king of the Gods, and men.
Sati had adored Shiva from the moment She had heard of Him. There could be no one else for Her. Her strength of character, Her immense beauty and charm, Her grace and kindness – had no other source; and grew from day to day. The glow from all that matched the desire in the Mahadev – they were destined to meet, and marry.
Daksha had many daughters; the youngest of them was Sati; she was the only one yet unmarried. For Sati, he organised a grand sway-am-var, the ceremony where the bride freely chooses for her husband whoever she wanted. Gods and kings came to attend the sway-am-var, to win the hand of the matchless Sati. It all happened so long ago, that it may appear unbelievable to us now what the Gods looked like, in the time of Sati. We are informed by Sister Nivedita, who faithfully followed the popular Indian traditional thinking, that They cast no shadow, for They were illumined from within, and that They were unblinking! When she wrote her book “Cradle Stories of Hinduism” there was no notion of computers, let alone androids or cyborgs! Strange, how the sounds from the distant past may provide some understanding for the realisations in the near future! Cyclic, then, is the nature of the universe, with time and space forever jostling; and at time, splashing.
As our knowledge about the Gods are far from perfect, we can but humbly try to understand Them as best our wits and knowledge can manage. Where do They exist? In our stories, They come to Earth from time to time. Otherwise, They inhabit a region we can know nothing about – it is Heaven, which we may reach, with our spiritual form, after we die. So what are we? If we believe in the Gods and Heaven, then we are Gods in mortal form, if we are good; if we are bad, we are devils destined for Hell. If we do not believe in the Gods and Heaven, then there is no question nor notion of any intrinsic good or evil; consideration exists only for convenience and profit. Those unsure are clouded by the veil of ignorance; when that veil is removed, one finds one’s true status, as fundamentally divine, albeit flawed maybe!
At the time of Sati, and right up to the legends in the Mahabharata, the Gods and Goddesses roamed the Earth, and mingled with humans, often exhibiting Their superior powers. We worship Them to this day, even though They do not exist in physical form as they once did. We additionally associate Them with physical and abstract aspects of Nature: thus the God of Absolute Truth, Agni, manifests as sacred fire; Surya, the most giving of Gods, manifests as the Sun. Goddesses manifest as rivers; in manifestations of knowledge and music as Sarasvati; in the show of grace and wealth as Lakshmi. To the rational mind this seems romantic; to the “romantics” this is the height of ecstatic experience! To be perennially enveloped, most directly, and all the time, by the Gods and Goddesses! Reliable and constant sources of joy and inspiration! Unfailing guides for the avoidance of perils and evils!
To repeat, the Gods Who came to Earth hoping to wed Sati were, as Sister Nivedita informs us, unblinking and illuminated from within. Did They originate from some planet orbiting a distant star? Were They very advanced beings who had changed their bodies with high technology to be immortal? Were They responsible for the genetic manipulation of Earthly hominids to make them in their own image? Did They create, over billions of years, the non-human species? Who knows!
Shiva had not been invited by Daksha for the sway-am-vara. Daksha hated Shiva, for Shiva had not bowed down and touched his feet, at the banquet for the ceremony that made Daksha the Overlord. Yes, Daksha was the King of the Gods, everyone else bowed down and touched his feet; but Shiva, being the greatest God, did not do that, out of sheer kindness. Had He touched Daksha’s feet, Daksha’s head would have rolled off instantly, for that is what happens when the superior genuflects to the inferior! What was equally galling was that Shiva, unlike Daksha and the other Gods, had no use for pomp and finery. Instead of fine silks and jewels, Shiva wore ashes and a pink loin-cloth, and had only a staff and a bowl for further material possessions. Like any beggar! Daksha’s pride made his anger and hatred for Shiva grow more and more; while Shiva on the other hand quite forgot the incident.
In a great circle in the splendid court of Daksha, the Kings and Gods sat on magnificent thrones, awaiting the decision of Sati. What could she do? The One she wanted to marry would not be there! Sati entered the circle with trepidation. Any of the great personages there, seeking her hand, would provide a luxurious life for her. Her father would be happy and proud, with the new alliance. She would be hailed a dutiful daughter. All would be smooth sailing!
But, no! There was nothing in the circle of suitors but despair for Sati. She threw up her garland of flowers in the air, in desperation, saying out loud, that if Shiva considered her worthy, may He receive her garland!
The very next moment Shiva was standing next to Sati, with her garland around His neck.
The entire circle of guests rose up as one. They had never seen such a wonderful sight as this – the beautiful, blushing,rapturous Sati with her chosen, the greatest God, Shiva, Who overwhelmed them all with His sheer presence.
Daksha was beside himself with rage and frustration. The wishes of the bride had to be honoured, so the marriage ceremony was performed. After it was over, Daksha had nothing to offer his daughter but curses. “Undutiful child! You have married a beggar! He has nothing! You have spurned all my honoured guests! Be off with you! Live as a beggar’s wife! Never come back here, and never look at my face again!”
All Sati knew was that she was married to Shiva, and nothing else mattered. Daksha’s harsh words thus made no impact upon her. Shiva took her away to Mount Kailas. All her dreams and prayers were answered in full.
The God of War – 3
The death of Sati
Narada – the sage and creator of disaster – visited the happy couple. He informed Parvati that a great festival, or yagya, was taking place in Her father’s palace. All were invited, except Shiva and Sati.
Sati became curious. She wanted to know more and more about what was happening. Narada fed Her all the information, while Shiva started looking more and more uncomfortable.
Memories of Her happy unmarried life came back to Sati. She overlooked the slights and insults She had received by Her father and other relatives. Drowsy as She had become in Her love for Shiva, She had unconsciously forgiven and even forgotten. They all should know how happy She was! So, She must go to her family, take part in all the fun and festivities! O what joy!
Narada left the couple, went on His way. Troublesome God, Narada, but without Narada there would be no story of any kind. Things would be just perfect, as the motion of the stars and planets, with time stopped so to say, for there would be no noteworthy events for record. We mortals pray that please, please, Narada, do not enter our lives! Let us live in peace! But peace is for the ordinary, not the greatest God, Shiva. Shiva has to face the greatest of discords, because that is His lot.
Had our dear sweet Shiva more tact, He could have managed His wife more discreetly. But Shiva could look into the future, and knew what would happen if Sati went to meet her family. He gave a direct refusal. Shiva has no guile, He is too simple and direct.
The consequences of that refusal, has been described in the very beginning of this tale. Even the greatest God cannot stop a passionate woman from having her way. As Sati left, Shiva looked after her longingly, but even the power of His eyes could not draw Her back. Such is the power of stubbornness! From which depths does that come, to overwhelm reason? The answer to such a question eluded even the greatest God. How to replace stubbornness with foresight for a smooth, calm future?
So Sati, accompanied by Nandi, Shiva’s bull, left Her husband, and made Her way to Daksha’s palace. Indeed there was a great deal of hustle and bustle, comings and goings of the lords and ladies, fineries and decoration… Sati had no doubt that She would be well received. Sati was mistaken. The servants and lackeys, seeing Her, scurried off. All those who had known Her in the past, ignored Her, looked past Her, as if She had never belonged there. Sati, Who was so good, so pure, so free from petty matters, simply did not understand – She was just puzzled. She sought out and met Her father, Dakshya. Dakshya treated Sati mercilessly. How dare Sati come uninvited, dressed like a beggar’s wife, unescorted by anyone! Had She not been told never to return? Had She no shame? Was it not bad enough that She married a useless vagrant? Made a mockery of all the great, fine Gods, any of Whom would have been more than happy to marry her, with Her choice? What had She come here for, anyway – to show off what exactly!
Sati made meek remonstrances. A father’s curses were like blessings, for indeed the father could only love his children. Whatever She had done, had to be forgiven. She was, after all, so happy with Her choice!
Dakshya became dark with anger. If Sati had come crawling back, leaving Her wretched husband for good, She would have been welcome. But, this impudence! To pretend She was actually happy to live with that vagabond, that beggar, that fool, that pretender, that associate of all the miserable and hopeless, Who had absolutely nothing worth showing off, was insulting to the intelligence, completely unbearable.
Hearing such bad things being said about Her husband, Sati was full of anguish. She beseeched Her father to stop saying such things. A faithful wife simply could not tolerate such insults to her husband.
But Dakshya did not stop. He kept on abusing Shiva with all the venom in his heart.
In extraordinary pain and sorrow, with Her final thought on Shiva; in helplessness - for She could not in duty defy Her father, nor in disgrace return to Her husband - Sati had to give up Her life. She could do nothing else!
“Take back the life you gave me! My ears are burning with all the nasty things you have said about my dear husband! I cannot live in this body any more – it has been subjected to your abuse and can never recover.”
Saying that Sati fell dead at Her father’s feet.
Dakshya, in his pride, barely noticed that his daughter was dead. He ordered his servants to keep Her body away from sight, and then continued with the festivities, as if nothing that mattered had happened.
Nandi was horrified. He called after Dakshya – “Be not so proud, Dakshya. I see your head replaced with that of a goat.”
“And that suits you better.”
The God of War – 4
The Wrath of Shiva
With the death of Sati, came a strange coldness in the place where She gave up Her life. With the ebullience of the revellers in Dakshya’s palace, that coldness intensified, and spread all over the land. All Nature shivered. Finally this coldness reached Shiva. Shiva became frozen, with cold sorrow. That He knew this would happen did not make his pain any less. In that cold, stone-like state Shiva would have remained for ever; but then He also heard the expressions of mirth and laughter from the guests of Dakshya. Shiva looked around, with His terrible third eye. He saw all Nature similarly cold, frozen, lifeless and yet looking up to Him for direction.
Nandi, returning to Shiva, gave His account of the death of Sati.
The cold that frozen all, even the earth, intensified. Shiva knew about the death of His beloved; indeed He knew what would happen long in advance, which is why He wanted to stop Sati from visiting Her family. But He had not known the exact circumstances of Her dying. The pure, sheer heartlessness of these Gods! What indifference to all that was sweet and charming, loving and playful! What arrogance they Had! What total lack of feeling, with no thought of forgiveness, not a single trace of compassion! Far worse than the asuras, they had become. The asuras would never treat one of their own so badly.
The coldness within Shiva intensified; it compressed His being, shrinking and hardening it ; till Shiva heard even more loud mirth and laughter from Dakshya’s guests – then, as the most compressed strings when released become immensely active, the coldness within Shiva turned into white heat. As the greatest of volcanoes may burst out from under the permafrost of Siberia, so did the extraordinary stillness of Shiva turn into the most violent of action. The God of War - 5
The killing of Dakshya
Shiva, from His matted locks, tore out a single hair and flung it on the ground. Immediately there formed, a giant of gargantuan proportions, incredibly strong and fierce. Shiva’s third eye blazed, and He looked all around, shaking His matted locks.
Immediately all that was natural – the grass, the trees, the waters and even the rocks – turned into a vast army of mighty warriors. It was as if Nature rose to avenge the loss of its best and sweetest.
Like a mighty forest fire, or like an unstoppable tsunami, with Shiva and His giant general at its head, the army marched towards the palace of Dakshya.
The Gods panicked in pure fright. Their mirth turned to horror in a trice. They ran away from the rampaging hordes of Shiva, as fast as they could.
Dakshya tried to rally them, but to no avail. Shiva’s general cut off his head. The entire palace was ransacked and ruined. Of all that showed the pride of the Gods, and the esteemed mortals, nothing remained.
Heeding not this chaos, Shiva went straight to where the body of Sati lay. He lifted Her body, and placed it reverentially across His shoulders.
Shiva would then have left, but a woman threw herself at His feet, sobbing uncontrollably.
Always, always, even in His darkest moments of grief, the Greatest God is polite. “Who are you?” asked Shiva. “Why are you worshipping Me?”
“I am the mother of Sati and Your mother-in-law.”
Shiva softened. “What can I do for you, mother?”
“Out of pure mercy, please give back the life of my husband, Dakshya.”
“Let him live!” said Shiva, immediately. The headless corpse of Dakshya came alive, and stood up!
However Dakshya’s head could not be found. The best Shiva’s general could do was to install the head of a sacrificed goat, in its stead.
Thus did Nandi’s prophecy come true. Dakshya soon found that he could not pose with dignity to his subjects with a goat’s head. He invented the first mask, to cover his goat-head, but it was not often easy to hide the ears. His invention was and is found to be useful to those with his qualities, occupying superior positions.
In the lowest depths of sorrow and despair, burning from within, and yet cold all over, Shiva left Dakshya’s palace with the body of Sati lovingly draped over His shoulders.
The God of War – 6
The dance of Shiva
Full of anger and sorrow, Shiva strode out with Sati over his shoulders. He was very upset, and gave Himself relief by motion. Why was He suffering so much? Why? What was the point of it all, this consciousness? What caused so much meanness? What? How could matters be rectified? How? Why this unexpected pettiness from those supposed to be kindly and wise? How could they descend from their high ideals? What was the point of striving for glorious elevation, when descent to callousness was inevitable?
With every question there was a stamp by His foot upon the Earth, which now to Him appeared to be but a vehicle for ignorance - an insidious giggling demon that had to be stamped out. Thus in complete anger and grief caused as much by His incomprehension as His personal loss, Shiva stamped and stamped, and as He did, He whirled with incredible beauty and the utmost grace in the most awesome dance that could ever be comprehended. It is known now as the Tandava Dance, the dance of destruction.
Shiva, the embodiment of complete goodness, is normally still, and silent in apparently eternal meditation. The complete opposite happens when Shiva gets into rage, the rage of a good man wronged. Not that He intends to, but His movements cause immense destruction. In His anger and grief, He moved , as if in dance, most wonderfully and gracefully; but as He stamped, the Earth shook, the waters got troubled, the air went into turmoil – volcanoes erupted; earthquakes shook the Earths; tsunamis huge raced up the shores; cyclones of devastating power ruined everything…
All the Gods looked on in awe and dismay. If Shiva carried with His dance all existence would be destroyed.
Powerful as Shiva was, He could not be stopped. So long as He continued in His anger fuelled by grief the destruction would continue.
The Gods looked at Vishnu, the Preserver, the most clever and well-intentioned among Them. Only He could do something!
Following Shiva, Vishnu launched His discus at Sati’s body fifty-two times, cutting off Her body parts with each strike, till nothing of Sati remained upon Shiva. Wherever Her body parts fell upon the sacred soil of Bharata, those places became the most holy, and centres for pilgrimage to this day.
Finally Shiva understood that His beloved Sati was no longer with Him. His anger abated, but the grief remained. And along with that grief, there was confusion. What was wrong with Him? Why could He not have stopped the death of His wife? What did He not know? How could He have done better?
Ignorance then, was not only outside Shiva, but also within Him. And indeed, how could the greatest God, Who was completely good, have any idea about wickedness and deceit, meanness and the need to show off grandeur? How could He be completely good if indeed He could know of evils and vices, snobberies and cunning, and practice them, when the opportunity so presented? Was it good to be so good?
Such were the issues that vexed the greatest God, Shiva. He stopped His dancing. The consequent destruction also stopped. The Gods sighed with relief.
Loneliness struck Shiva. He deeply felt that He needed a son. But how could He get a son, having lost His beloved wife? There was no other woman He could even look at.
Shiva knew He had much to learn. Once again He went into the deep, silent, still state of meditation, more intensely than ever, to gain even greater powers from the Higher Regions.
The God of War (Book 1) by Arindam Banerjee, Melbourne