MAHABHARATA SERIES BOOK#1: The Forest of Stories (Mba)

by Ashok K. Banker

  Last to enter the field were the great ones Nara and Narayana.

  In those ancient days, weapons were celestial devices summoned by the utterance of a mantra. Nara summoned his divine bow which appeared at once, gleaming darkly in his fist. Narayana thought of his danava-destroying chakra, Sudarshana. No sooner had he summoned it than the dark skies, veiled by crow-black stormclouds, blazed with a blinding bright light, causing all those engaged in combat to pause and gaze up in surprise and awe. From the peak of the sky, through the clouds, descended the Sudarshana, radiant as the sun itself, impossible to look at directly, rock-steady in its path. Like a device fixed to a rigid pole, it descended, unwavering and blinding in intensity, to hover above Vishnu the immitigable. A golden discus of a mysterious metal unknown to mortal science, it spun with a speed impossible to measure, its bladed tips spinning rapidly enough to form the semblance of a continuous edge, producing a keening sound like a living being. Vishnu, in another of his infinite variety of forms as Achyuta, the Imperishable One, received it with an upraised forefinger around whose tip its centre spun, empowered by his mighty consciousness. Blazing with his own divine fire, Achyuta was indistinguishable from the sun-bright Sudarshana. With the strength of a thousand elephants, he unleashed the Sudarshana Chakra and with a shrill screeching cry of unmistakable delight, the dev astra descended upon the field of battle. In thousands died the progeny of Dit and Danu then, unable to counter the power of Vishnu’s Chakra. At times it blazed like fire, its celestial energy exploding to send flying outwards the shredded scraps of hundreds of asura bodies. At other times it descended to ground level, spinning underfoot as it travelled along the field, scything enemy bodies and reducing them to mangled pulp. It drank the spilled blood like a vampirical beast, screaming with terrible delight. Everywhere it went, it caused havoc and slaughtered the enemies of the gods in great numbers.

  But the asuras were powerful as well. Undaunted, a thousand demons rose up bearing mountains on the palms of their hands which they flung down upon the lines of the devas, crushing them on impact with booming explosions. The world was filled with the crashing of thousands upon thousands of mountains as the asuras retaliated with fearsome rage. The earth herself, great and tolerant Prithvi-Maa, began to tremble beneath the force of the impact and waver in her course. And still the asuras continued to shower down mountains upon the overwhelmed devas.

  Then great Nara plunged deep into the ranks of the asura hordes, mingling with them unnoticed at first. Using his divine bow, he loosed a hail of powerful arrows with tips of unknown golden-hued metal and feathered shafts, like a rainstorm rising up from the ground to the skies. The sky grew dark with the profusion of arrows, released at such blinding speed by the magnificent bow of Nara that they appeared to be issued from an army of archers rather than a single bowman. The arrows struck the mountains still in the hands of the flying asuras as well as those peaks still plummeting earthwards, and shattered them with terrible force, reducing each one to fine powdered dust. The dust fell like a benediction upon the laughing devas who applauded their fellow god.

  Then did the tide turn against the asuras. Nara and Narayana in the field used their divine bow and magnificent discus to wreak a terrible toll upon the enemy. The rest of the deva forces attacked from high and low, flank and van, until the asuras, harried and disordered, knew not where to turn to make a stand. Frustrated and despairing, some burrowed their way into the earth, eating through the soil and stone and roots to bury themselves deep within the body of the planet. Those closer to the shores of the ocean plunged into the salty waters, seeking refuge in the darkest depths. Soon the field was clear of all except the victorious devas.

  Producing a mighty cheer of triumph, the gods celebrated their undisputed victory.

  Afterwards, they restored things to their natural places. Mount Mandara was hauled back to its original site and set firmly in place. Akupara was released from his task to go back to bearing the universe upon his shelled back. Indra led the devas in a great celebration that lasted for an untold time and filled the heavens with their gaiety and jubilation. When all was done, Indra, the slayer of Bala, acting for the devas, handed over the gourd pot containing Amrit to Kirti, the Crowned One.

  ||Seven||

  Meanwhile, back at the ashram of Kashyapa, the sisters Kadru and Vinata saw the great steed Ucchaihshrava approach. The celestial stallion had only just then emerged from the Amrit Manthan and its route took it past that site where the wives of Kashyapa lived. But the great horse’s aura glowed so radiantly, it was not visible in the manner of an ordinary horse. Observing its supernatural brilliance, Kadru asked her sister, ‘Sister dearest, what colour is the horse Ucchaihshrava? Tell me at once!’ Vinata replied graciously, ‘Blessed sister, there is no question about it. The celestial horse is white from nose tip to tail tip, of course. Why? Do you believe it is another colour? Come then, my pretty one, let’s have a wager!’ Kadru said with exaggerated politeness, ‘My sweet-smiling sister, you are quite wrong. I say the horse has a black tail. But you are the prettiest one, are you not? Don’t spoil your beauty with a sour look. If it’s a wager you wish, I am game for it. I bet you that the one who is mistaken about the horse’s colour will become the other one’s slave. What say?’ To which her sibling Vinata replied at once, ‘Agreed!’ Then, as it was late in the day and the light insufficient, both sisters agreed to return the next day to examine the horse by the clear light of day.

  Back home, Kadru was determined to win the wager by any means necessary. She commanded her one thousand sons: ‘Turn yourself into horse hairs as black as kohl and cover the celestial horse’s tail completely.’ When they refused, she urged them again, saying, ‘If you do not do as I say, I shall lose the bet and become her slave!’ But still they would not agree to deceive their aunt. Finally, frustrated with their non-compliance, she cursed her own sons: ‘You shall all perish in the sarpa satra of the Kuru, Raja Janamajaya!’ This terrible curse resounded as far away as Brahmaloka, where the great Father heard Kadru’s words and mused on the cruel utterance. But after consultation with the other devas, he agreed to let the curse stand, for the sons of Kadru had multiplied manifold and were increasing in numbers at an unprecedented rate, and were moreover virulently poisonous in their venom, fearsome creatures, and rapidly exceeding all bounds of his control. They bit anyone they chose, intimidating with their lethal venom and running rampant where they pleased. But, out of his love for all living creatures, he countered the curse by bestowing upon Kadru’s own husband and the father of these same snakes the knowledge of how to neutralize their venom.

  The next morning, the sisters rose with the sun, driven by their mutual jealousy and each eager to better her sibling, and set out to view the horse Ucchaihshrava who had taken shelter in a certain grove. Their route took them first to the ocean. Arriving at the shore, they gazed out upon that vast watery expanse. They saw thousands of species of the waterworld coexisting. There were untold varieties of fish. There were enormous timi, also known as whales. And there were timingila, those creatures that devoured whales. There were sharks, crocodiles, turtles and also the mythical makaras. Land creatures hesitated to approach it because of the presence of these awe-inspiring predators. Yet it was also a treasure trove of precious stones, the abode of Varuna, the beautiful home of the Sea Nagas, mother of all rivers, home to the submarine fire, and hiding place of the asuras. Eternal and immeasurable, filled with unimaginable wonders and fearsome reverberations, source of terrible calamities and awash with maelstroms spinning above bottomless abysses. It was also a source of great succour and rich treasures, trove of Amrit, producer of quakes and storms, at once both sacred and supreme. Its shoreline changed constantly, altered by its turbulent moods, slapping the land with waves like raised hands, buffetting the earth with powerful forces and washes. Its tides waxing and waning with the shifting moon, it was the resting place of the Panchajanya, that great Conch belonging to Lord Vishnu, and an endless supply of pearls.
In ancient times, Lord Vishnu in his avatar as Varaha, the boar incarnation, plunged into the depths of the endless ocean and churned up the waters with his furious quest for land, finding it at the very bottom of the waters. However, the brahmarishi Atri, despite seeking the same earth for one hundred years, failed to find it. At the beginning of each Yuga, or the Eon which is one part of the Day of Brahma, the lotus- navelled Vishnu falls into the sleep of Yoga-nidra, this same milky ocean becomes his bed. Its waters then resemble the tongues of Agni in the sacrificial yagna, holy, boundless, immeasurable and eternal.

  The sisters looked upon this great ocean, saw the thousands of rivers that rushed toward it as eagerly as lovers into each other’s embrace. They heard the cries of the untold species that lived and preyed and died within its unplumbed depths. And they flew over the great world of Varuna and Sagara and passed to the other side.

  Arriving at the grove where Ucchaihshrava loitered, the sisters Kadru and Vinata looked at it in clear daylight. To Vinata’s dismay there were indeed many black hairs on the white tail of the horse, thus proving Kadru’s observation to be true. Vinata grieved even as her sister gloated. Having lost the wager, Vinata then became her sister’s slave.

  ||Nine||

  Meanwhile, Garuda, the second son of Vinata who broke open his own shell and emerged without his mother’s interference or help, flew through the sky, greatly expanded in size and strength from the fledgling that had come out of the shell. Resplendent as a mass of blazing flame and possessed of fearsome aspect, he appeared as the pure energy of fire itself, striking awe and fear into the hearts of even the powerful devas. Awed at this inexplicable sight, the devas all cried out in alarm and sought out Vibhavasu, he of many hues. ‘O Agni, a part of thy energy flies through the sky threatening to set ablaze all the worlds. It is enormous in size and too brilliant to behold. Do you seek to destroy us all with this weapon of flame?’ Agni replied reassuringly, ‘Devas, it is not what you think. That is the mighty Garuda. His brilliance equals my own but he is not of my making.’ Awed by the power and appearance of Garuda, the devas and all the great sages then followed Garuda and sang his praises from a distance. ‘Lord of birds. You are a great force unto yourself. Your aspect is no less fierce than that of Agni, host of the sacrificial flame. You are no less than a deva. Be our supreme protector. You are an ocean of might, you are purity incarnate. Your qualities are beyond number. You possess great ferocity and can perform impossible deeds. You are unconquerable, possessed of full knowledge of all that has been and all that will be. Your heat surpasses that of the sun, you engender all things permanent and transient. Even the sun pales in comparison with your splendour. If you choose to rage, you can destroy all things as the sun does in his outbursts. You fly through the sky unbounded, you soar above the clouds themselves. Surely you can grant all boons and achieve the mightiest feats. You are no less powerful than the great fire of entropy which consumes all matter at the end of each Yuga. O king of birds. We approach you as friends and allies. Be not harsh with us. Do not scorch us with your power, we entreat you.’

  Preening with pleasure at this exaltation from the devas, Garuda, the beautiful feathered one, controlled his heat and radiance out of consideration for them and continued on his way. After a great flight across the vast ocean, Garuda came to his mother’s house. Having lost the wager over the horse, Vinata was enslaved by her sister. She served Kadru daily, living a life of constant humiliation and despair. Kadru, proud in her newfound role as mistress and commander, summoned Vinata imperiously. Vinata appeared and bowed before her, asking her orders. Kadru ordered her sister to transport her to the legendary abode of the Sea Nagas at the bottom of the ocean, Ramaniyaka. Compelled to obey, Vinata lifted her on her back and carried her to the ocean. At his mother’s request, Garuda carried the sons of Kadru. Now, Garuda was wont to fly very high and as he rose up into the sky, the snakes upon his back began to suffer the fearsome heat of the sun. Scorched and tormented by the heat, the snakes suffered great pain and fell unconscious.

  Seeing the state of her sons, Kadru cried out to Indra by his various names. ‘O Shakra, husband of Shachi, king of the gods, slayer of Bala, destroyer of Namuchi. I bow before you. My sons are being burned to death by the heat of the sun. You can save them. Purandara, you are a destroyer of cities, you can produce a deluge and save them. You are lord of the wind, clouds, fire and lightning. You are thunder and monsoon, the sun and the fire, you are all things wonderful and magnificent. You are Vishnu, you are the thousand-eyed, you are the last resort of all who hope. You are soma, drink of the devas. You are muhurata, the crucial instant of auspicious action. You are the tithis, the lunar days. You are kshana, the time it takes for a twinkling of an eye, four-fifths of a second, and you are lava as well, one-sixth of a kshana. You are shuklapaksha, the brighter half of the moon month, and you are krishnapaksha, the bahula or darker half of the lunar cycle. You are kala, the daily waxing of the moon, and a fractional measure of time. You are kashtha, one-thirtieth of a lava. You are truti, half of a lava. You are time in all its aspects, from the greatest to the most minute. You are the solar year, the changing seasons, the months of the calendar, the nights and days themselves. You are the earth sublime, its mountains and forests. You are the clear sky with brilliant sun. You are the vast ocean and its billowing energies, the timi whales as well as the timingalas that devour the whales, the makaras. You are justly famous. You are worshipped by the greatest seers, the enlightened maharishis. You are the drinker of soma offered at sacrifices. You are He whom brahmins worship when they desire anything. Your fame extends to the sacred Vedas, where you are praised extensively. It is to ensure their pleas reach your ears that the twice-born study the Vedangas diligently.’

  At this passionate entreaty by Kadru, Lord Indra rode his bay horses across the sky, veiling the sun with a dense blanket of stormclouds. Crackling with lightning, the clouds unleashed a deluge of epic proportions. Thunder crashed and wave upon wave of torrential rain washed across the earth, submerging it in water across its length and breadth. Overwhelmed with delight, the Naga sons of Kadru revived and were refreshed by the water and praised the great Vasava for his aid.

  Soon after, the beautiful feathered Garuda arrived at an island. This was the place known as Malaya, for its sandalwood trees, surrounded on all sides by endless ocean and filled with the cries and songs of numerous birds. There were rows of wooded groves rich with fruits and blossoms, where well-constructed houses stood by beautiful lotus lakes. Apsaras and gandharvas frolicked in the flower-strewn groves. The island was refreshed by cool scented breezes. Blossoms and petals showered down from the high Malaya trees, and the Naga sons of Kadru were charmed by the beauty of the place. They lived there awhile and took great pleasure in its natural wonders. After some time had passed, the pannagas called to Garuda who flew down and folded his great wings, bending his mighty head low that he might hear their words. ‘Take us to another beautiful island as charming as this one, Garuda. You must know many such places from your travels across the sky.’ Irritated at their abrupt orders, Garuda asked his mother: ‘Must I obey their every whim?’ Vinata sighed and replied, ‘Yes, my son. For under the terms of the wager I lost, I am enslaved by my sister, your aunt. And as my son, you are therefore enslaved as well.’ Curious, Garuda enquired further and learned for the first time all the details of the lost wager. After he heard the full story, he was unhappy. Appealing to the sons of Kadru, he asked them, ‘Tell me one act that I may perform that will appease you forever. No matter how great a deed, I shall perform it, if only you will agree to release my mother and I from this state of slavery.’ At this, the sons of Kadru hissed sibilantly and answered, ‘Bring us Amrit! And you shall be freed from your bond!’

  ||Ten||

  Garuda went to his mother and asked for her blessings. ‘I shall go and fetch Amrit and end our enslavement.’ Upon which his mother urged him to eat something before he went that he might gain strength for his mission. ‘What shall
I eat, mother?’ he asked her dutifully. Vinata thought awhile, then said, ‘Far from here, in a remote bay, you shall find the Nishadas, hunters of creatures who dwell in the ocean. Their diet makes them strong and their flesh shall give you strength as well. Eat as many of them as you can, consume them by the thousands, and you will be well nourished for your task. But remember, you must never eat a brahmin or kill one. Among all living creatures, a brahmin is like fire itself and can never be eaten or killed. Just like fire, a brahmin angered can blaze like the sun and destroy you by the tapas heat of his austerities. A brahmin is the first to eat at a sacrifice for he is supreme among the varnas, a father and a preceptor.’

  Garuda bowed to his mother. ‘In that case, Maatr, tell me, how do I recognize a brahmin from among other persons? By what signs is he distinguished?’

  Vinata answered, ‘My son, a brahmin may appear similar to any other mortal being, but if you eat one by accident, when he passes down your throat, it will feel as if you have swallowed a live coal. If you try to swallow him, he will stick like a fish hook. And you will know at once that you have tried to eat a brahmin!’

  Eager that her son not make any error, Vinata again repeated her instructions carefully. Garuda listened attentively. When it was time for him to leave, Vinata pronounced a blessing over him, out of her maternal love: ‘May the Maruts, those gods of wind, protect your wings. May Chandra, the moon, protect your back. May Agni, the lord of fire, protect your head. May Surya, the sun god, protect your entire body. Go now, my son. I shall perform a ceremony to pray for your well-being until the time you return.’ Garuda bid goodbye to his mother and spread his wings, soaring up into the sky.