The Seduction of Shiva: Tales of Life and Love

by Haskar

  ‘But only those with a son can attain Krishna,’ she then said. ‘Even sages like Shuka and Narada achieved that state after fathering sons. Those without one are known merely as debtors on this earth. Moreover, all wishes come true for those who live to fulfil the hopes of others. This never happens to those who do the reverse.’

  ‘My dear, don’t you know our stern ruler?’ Sudhanva commented. ‘His fearful drumbeat has begun. He has proclaimed that anyone who does not proceed forthwith to battle will be thrown into a cauldron of boiling oil. All the warriors have already gone to fight against Arjuna. Besides, my lady, the act of begetting a child is performed at night. Good people never approved of intercourse during the day.’

  ‘I am all alone and overcome by Kama,’ whispered Prabhavati. ‘If you wish to go without subduing my passion, how will you subdue that army, sir? In front of Krishna and all those deadly warriors, what will your condition be? Indeed, what is mine today, with a husband like you?’

  ‘Pretty eyes, don’t speak like this! There are still many days left for you, but I will not see this Arjuna in the field of battle again.’

  ‘Husband, today is the sixteenth day after my period. You know that it is a sin for you to ignore it. The father’s death anniversary, the fast on the moon’s eleventh day and the sixteenth day after the wife’s period are all sacred. What should be done if they coincide is a difficult question, for dharma’s path is subtle and secret.’

  ‘The sages’ decision is well known,’ Sudhanva responded. ‘In such a coincidence, the wise perform the father’s ritual with all devotion, smell the grain and break the excellent fast at midnight and then have intercourse with the wife. This, my beauty, is the dharma of the householder.’

  ‘Well, husband,’ Prabhavati then said. ‘Your father is alive and ready for battle. There is no question of any fast today. So, sleep with me and then go to fight.’ And she put her soft arms around his neck, just like a vine encircles a tree. Thus enmeshed by his beloved, Sudhanva just could not leave. So he took off his armour and helmet with a smile, and led her to their bejewelled bed where they made love during the day itself.

  From Jaiminiya, Asvamedha Parva, 17.69–125

  The Sons of Vichitra Virya

  King Shantanu was twice married. The son from his first wife, Ganga, was called Bhishma and served him nobly after she passed away. To enable the king to marry again, he swore a terrible oath renouncing his right to the throne and even to progeny. The second wife was Satyavati, whose son Vichitra Virya inherited the crown with his older half-brother’s support.

  Bhishma arranged for the new monarch to be married to Ambika and Ambalika, two daughters of the king of Kashi. They were both in their sixteenth year, already grown up, with dark curly hair, pink fingers and toenails, and voluptuous breasts and bottoms. Pleased at having such a congenial husband, they took good care of Vichitra Virya. In looks and prowess he was like a god who could charm all women. For seven years he enjoyed himself with his two wives, but then he fell ill while still a young man and, though treated by the best of doctors, nevertheless passed on like the setting sun. His mother was bereft. Bhishma too was grief-stricken and had the obsequies performed with due ceremony as advised by the deceased king’s mother.

  The blessed Satyavati consoled the valiant Bhishma and her two daughters-in-law. Having deliberated on the sacred law and the needs of both the paternal and the maternal families, she then spoke to Bhishma. ‘The honour, reputation and dynasty of the glorious Shantanu now depend on you,’ she said. ‘He always adhered to the law, and certainly so do you. You know its essence and its totality, as you do the scriptures. I am aware of your dedication to duty, your feelings for the family and your ability to act with sagacity in difficult situations. I also trust you, noble one, and so wish you to undertake this task. My son, your dear brother, has died while still a child. His two young and beautiful queens want to have sons. You should beget children by them for the sake of our family and the continuation of our line. This is a duty you must perform at my injunction. Make them your lawful wives. Do not let the ancestors sink into hell. Get crowned and rule over this land.’

  Bhishma was the soul of virtuous conduct. ‘Mother,’ he replied, ‘there is no doubt about the lawfulness of your words. But I will neither get myself crowned, nor have sex for the sake of the kingdom. You are aware of the great oath I swore. You know, Satyavati, all about the conditions that were set for you! I remind you once more about their truth. I can renounce kingdoms, worldly or heavenly, and even those which are greater, but never the truth. The elements may lose their properties and the gods their qualities, but I cannot even think of losing the truth.’

  ‘I know of your steadfastness in truth,’ the queen mother told Bhishma. ‘Truth is your power. With it you can create a new world if you wish. I also know what you swore for my sake. But you must bear the yoke of patrimony with due consideration for duty in times of distress and disaster. You should do that which will hurt neither the law nor our dynasty, and will also gladden your well-wishers.’

  Her craving for progeny was piteous, but her words did not accord with the law. ‘Queen, do not destroy us all!’ said Bhishma. ‘Consider our duties in totality. They do not favour a warrior’s deviation from the truth. Let me tell you of the eternal warrior law, by following which the dynasty of Shantanu can also continue. It may be considered further with wise priests knowledgeable in governance and in duties during disasters. Listen, mother, to my words regarding the continuation of our line. Invite, with due payment of money, some meritorious brahman to beget progeny on the wives of Vichitra Virya.’1

  Satyavati laughed, her voice faltering with embarrassment. ‘What you say is appropriate, great warrior!’ she said. ‘Now I speak in confidence, only for the continuation of our line. Its duty, truth and destiny are personified in you. I cannot also refrain from mentioning duties in disaster and distress. Listen to this truth, and do what is best. You must have heard of a king called Vasu. I was born from his seed which fell into the womb of a fish. My mother was caught by a fisherman who took me home and brought me up as his own daughter. A good man, he owned a boat which was also used for public benefit. I was managing it one day when a learned sage, Parashara, asked to be taken across the Yamuna. I was in the first flush of youth and, as I ferried him, he was stricken with lust. In sweet words did he speak to me about his birth and family, to which I said I was but a fisherman’s daughter, for I was afraid both of his curse and of my father. But, encouraged by the easy boons he promised, I could not refuse him. I was just a young girl overcome by the power of his personality, and he possessed me on that very boat after creating a dark veil of mist around it. He also transformed my terrible fishy body odour into a fine fragrance. “My child is within your womb,” he told me thereafter, “leave it on the island in this river. Your virginity will be restored.”

  ‘The son of my maidenhood,’ she continued, ‘came to be known as Dvaipayana, the Islander. He is now a great sage and yogi, who separated the four Vedas and gained the title Vyasa. Being dark of complexion, he is also called Krishna. Truthful, tranquil and sinless, he had gone away with his father. But, if we were to request him, it is certain this incomparable personage will beget blessed offspring on his brother’s wives. He had told me to call for him in difficulties, and I will do so, Bhishma, if you agree. With your permission this great sage will definitely give sons to the wives of Vichitra Virya.’

  Bhishma raised his hands in salutation on mention of the sage. ‘Virtue, wealth and pleasure,’ he observed, ‘one who ponders over all the three pursuits, their respective connections and contradictions, and then takes decisions is indeed wise. What you say, madam, is both lawful and beneficial for our family. It is also good and I like it very much.’

  Bhishma having agreed, Satyavati then called in her mind for the sage Krisna Dvaipayana who appeared within moments, chanting the Vedas. Greeting him with all ceremony, the fisherman’s daughter hugged and embraced him, sh
edding tears at the sight of her son.

  ‘Mother,’ said her firstborn as he first saluted and then sprinkled her with holy water, ‘I have come to carry out your wishes. You know the sacred law. Tell me what I should do.’

  The mother seated Vyasa and asked at length about his welfare as she gazed at him. ‘Wise one,’ she then said, ‘sons are born from both mothers and fathers, and both have the same rights over them. Of this there is no doubt: just as fate willed you to be my firstborn, so was Vichitra Virya my last. And just as Bhishma is his brother from the father’s side, so are you, believe it, from the mother’s. Bhishma acts truly. He has no interest in progeny or in ruling the kingdom. At his and my request, please do as we say. This is for the continuation of your brother’s line and for the protection of all the people, and you are compassionate. Your brother’s two wives are young and beautiful. They want to have sons lawfully. You are competent, my son, to beget on them children suited to this family.’

  ‘Most wise Satyavati,’ replied Vyasa, ‘you know the law, both the high and the low. It is always in your mind. Making it the reason, and at your request, I will do what you wish. I will give godlike sons for my brother. This is also the ancient way. But let the two queens first purify themselves by observing for one year the vows I prescribe. No woman can approach me without that.’

  ‘You must act so that they are quickly with child,’ Satyavati observed. ‘At present the country has no king. The sacred rituals can cease, the rains and the gods disappear. Without support, the people can be destroyed. How can a state in anarchy carry on, my lord? Please, impregnate them now, and Bhishma will bring up their offspring.’

  ‘If I am to beget my brother’s children prematurely,’ Vyasa then said, ‘the two ladies will need to put up with my ugliness. That will be their special vow. If Ambika can tolerate my body and its odour, my looks and my garb, she can conceive a fine child straightaway. So, bring her to the bedroom, duly adorned, dressed in pure clothes and wishful of intercourse.’ With these words, the sage disappeared.

  The queen met privately with her daughter-in-law. ‘Dear daughter,’ she explained, ‘that which I now say is for your benefit and in keeping with the law. Please understand. It is because of my faulty stars that our Bharata dynasty is clearly coming to an end. Noting its situation and my own agony, Bhishma has suggested a method for its continuation. Applying it, my daughter, is within your power. You can rescue the Bharata line by giving birth to a son like the king of the gods, who will bear the burden of this realm and of our family.’ With such words she persuaded her pious daughter-in-law, after which she fed the priests, ascetics and guests in a thanksgiving.

  At an appropriate time thereafter, when the princess had bathed following her period, Satyavati seated her on the bed and spoke to her softly, ‘Dear Ambika,’ she said, ‘your husband’s brother will come to you today. Wait for him. He will arrive at midnight.’

  The girl lay down, thinking of Bhishma and other family heroes. Her room was bright with lamplight when the sage arrived. He had a dark, black body and long, dirty, brown hair and whiskers, on seeing which the princess of Kashi just shut her eyes. He lay with her to please his mother, but she was so terrified that she did not even look at him.

  Satyavati approached him as he came out of the room after the encounter. ‘Will she have a meritorious prince as a son?’ she asked.

  ‘He will be stronger than a thousand elephants,’ Vyasa replied. ‘He will be learned and prosperous, with great energy and intelligence, and will father a hundred sons. But, due to his mother’s fault, he will be blind.’

  ‘But, great sage,’ his mother protested, ‘a blind king is not suitable for the Kuru clan. You must give them a second king, one who will protect his dynasty and continue his father’s line.’

  ‘So be it,’ said the sage as he went away.

  In time Ambika gave birth to a blind son. Queen Satyavati then once more exercised persuasion, now on her younger daughter-in-law, the princess Ambalika, and again invoked the sage who lay with the princess. Ambalika had turned pale with fear at the sight of Vyasa who told her that her that her son would also be pale in colour. He informed his mother of the same and she then requested him for yet another son, to which he agreed.

  In time the younger princess was delivered of a pale-coloured boy. Meanwhile Satyavati had once again prepared her elder daughter-in-law for the ever-willing sage. Recalling his looks and smells, she did not comply with the queenly order, but instead sent to Vyasa a servant girl as pretty as herself, wearing her personal ornaments. This woman greeted Vyasa and attended on him with every courtesy. Their intercourse in private contented him greatly and upon rising from the bed he told her, ‘Good woman, you will no more be a slave. An excellent child has entered your womb. He will be the soul of virtue and the wisest of all.’ He also informed Satyavati how he had been deceived into fathering a child on the servant.

  Thus were planted by Dvaipayana, in the lawful field of Vichitra Virya, three godlike sons to continue the Kuru dynasty—Dhritarashtra, Pandu and Vidura.

  From Mahābhārata, Adi Parva, 1.102.65–1.105.32

  An Appointment with Upakosha

  Upakosha was happily married to the scholar Vararuchi. When he went away to the Himalayas to propitiate the god Shiva, Vararuchi informed her and placed money for the upkeep of his household with the merchant Hiranya Gupta. Upakosha stayed at home, constant in her devotions, bathing every day in the river Ganga.

  As she went to the river for her bath one day, Upakosha was seen by the royal priest, the chief judge and the prince’s counsellor. It was spring time. Slender, pale and charming, she caught people’s eyes like the crescent of the new moon. At the sight of her, all three men were smitten by the arrows of Kama, the god of love.

  For some reason Upakosha took a long time at her bath that day. On her way back in the evening, the prince’s counsellor grabbed her all of a sudden. ‘Good sir,’ she told him boldly, ‘this is something I want as much as you. But I am from a respectable family and my husband is away. So, how can this be done? Anyone may see us and that will surely be bad for both you and me. Come to my house in the first quarter of the night, when people will be engrossed in the spring festival.’

  After this arrangement had been made, the counsellor let her go. But she had not gone far when, as luck would have it, she was stopped by the priest. With him too she fixed a similar rendezvous, but for the second quarter of the night. Freed of him somehow, a little further she was accosted once more, this time by the chief judge. Much distressed, she made yet another assignation—with the judge for the third quarter of the same night and, fortunately let go again, got home shaken and trembling.

  ‘It is better for a respectable woman to die than become the target of looks from lewd people when her husband is away,’ she said to her servant maid while telling her confidentially what she had done. Worrying about it and thinking of her spouse, the good woman spent that night without any food, full of regrets about her good looks.

  The next morning she sent her maid to Hiranya Gupta to get some money for entertaining the three importunate brahmans. The merchant came to her himself and, when they were alone, said: ‘Sleep with me, and I will give you what your husband left in my care.’

  Upakosha recalled that there was no witness to her husband’s deposit of the money. Tormented by anger and frustration, but realizing that the merchant was a devil and wishing to be rid of him, that chaste woman then made an assignation with him for the last quarter of the night. Thereafter she got her servant girls to mix soot and oil in a tub together with musk and other scents. She also had four strips of cloth smeared with this mixture, and procured a large chest with a bolt on its exterior.

  Then it was the spring festival. The prince’s counsellor arrived in the first quarter of the night, splendidly dressed. He entered unseen. ‘I won’t touch you till you have had a bath,’ Upakosha told him, ‘so come inside and bathe.’ The fool agreed and the servant girls to
ok him into a secret inner room which was totally dark. There they relieved him of his ornamentation and inner garments, giving him one of the strips of cloth as underwear. Without his realizing it, they then smeared that wicked man’s body thickly, from head to foot, with the sooty oil. While they were rubbing it over all his limbs, the night’s second quarter commenced and the priest arrived.

  ‘A friend of Vararuchi has come,’ the girls told the prince’s counsellor, ‘it’s a priest, so get inside here.’ And they quickly bundled him naked into the chest and bolted it from outside.

  The royal priest was also tricked similarly. Taken into the darkness on the pretext of a bath, deprived of his robes and given only the strip of cloth, he too was rubbed with sooty oil by the servant girls until it was the third quarter, when he was suddenly locked inside the chest, terror-stricken upon learning that the chief judge had arrived.

  The new arrival was also duped. Taken inside on the pretence of a bath and covered with just a strip of cloth, he too was rubbed with soot until the merchant’s arrival in the night’s last quarter. Scared by the maids into thinking that he would be seen, the chief judge was also consigned into the chest which was bolted again. Inside it, the three men were cooped up in darkness, as if rehearsing to live in hell, but not daring to speak though they could touch each other.

  Meanwhile Upakosha invited the merchant into the house and gave him a lamp. ‘Give me the money my husband had entrusted to you,’ she told the villain.

  On his part, the man observed that there was no one else in the house and replied, ‘I will certainly give you the money deposited by your husband.’

  ‘O gods,’ Upakosha then called out so that she could be heard within the chest, ‘listen to this statement of Hiranya Gupta!’ and she put out the lamp.