Sham S. Misri
(Adapted)
Shiva! The Mahadev. The God of Gods. Destroyer of Evil. Passionate lover, lives on the snowy heights of the range of the Himalayas, and seem to watch a mighty snow-storm sweeping through the gorge. One of the myths about Lord Shiva is the Legend of the Boar-Hunt.One day Arjuna, one of the principal heroes of the Mahabharata, had gone up into the Himalayan Mountains, to spend some time in worshiping Siva. Arjuna wanted invoking His blessing. It was a clear day when Arjuna was praying and offering flowers before the lingam. Suddenly he was roused by a wild boar. The boar was rushing forward to attack him. The quick witted Arjuna, the practiced archer, instantly seized his bow and shot the animal. But, at the same moment a shout of warning was heard. It was at the same time that Arjuna shot a second arrow. The arrow pierced the body of the beast, the boar.
Arjuna, the hero raised his eyes. He was amazed to see a formidable-looking hunter and huntress. He was more astonished when he saw them coming towards him.
Surprised! Arjuna saw countless followers of women, attired for the chase. Looking at some distance, he saw a dim host of shadows—attended by the armies of demons and hobgoblins. The hobgoblins are small ugly creature. Hobgoblins are something causing superstitious fear.
A second later, the whole hunt had come to a stop before him.
"The quarry was mine!" cried the Hunter--and his voice sounded like the winter-blasts, amongst the mountains--"the quarry was mine. Mine is the lordship of these forests! How dared you touch it?"
At this address, Arjuna was blazed with anger. Before Arjuna returned to his worship he picked up the bow and arrows that he had thrown aside. Arjuna challenged the Hunter to a personal fight.
"Accepted," was the reply, and the duel began.
But to Arjuna’s’ disappointment, he seemed to be attacking some terrible phantom. For, one after another, his good stout arrows disappeared into the person of his enemy, working him no harm.
"Let's wrestle then!" shouted Arjuna, and casting aside his bow.
Arjuna flung himself upon his enemy.
Arjuna was confused when he was met by quiet touch of a hand on his heart. He fell to the ground
stunned.
"Well, come on!" said the Hunter, as Arjuna recovered himself a
few seconds later. Looking above! Arjuna withdrew from the contest. He (Arjuna) seemed almost intoxicated. "I must finish my worship first," he said, in a thick voice. Then, taking up a garland of flowers in his hands, Arjuna flings it over the Siva-lingam. The next moment the eyes of Arjuna were opened, for the Hunter towered above him, blessing him, and the flowers were about his neck.
"Mahadev! Mahadev!" cried Arjuna, the worshipper. He prostrated himself on the ground, to touch with his head the feet of the God. But already the hunt had swept on down the valley, and the Hunter and Huntress had disappeared.
Such are a few of the stories told of Siva, so deeply loved by all his devotees. To them there is nothing in the world so strong and pure and all-merciful as their great God, and the books and poems of Hindus are very few in which he is not referred to with this passionate worship.
Sometimes He is entirely a personification of the Himalayas, as when the Milky Way is made to fall upon his head, wander round and round amongst the tangled locks, and issue from them at last as the Ganges.
Indeed, the imagination of the people may be said to make northern ranges one vast shrine to Him; for it is far away, they say, across the frost-bound heights, where the Himalayas are at their mightiest and India passes into Tibet, that the Lake Mansarovar lies, at the foot of the great ice-peak of Kailash. Here is the reign of silence and eternal snow, and here, guarding the north, is the holy home that Siva loves.
He is the very soul of gentleness, refusing none. Up here, have gathered round Him, all those who were weary of earth, having found no acceptance amongst the fortunate. The serpents, whom the entire world hates and denies, come to Kailash, and Mahadev finds room for them in His great heart. And the tired beasts come--for He is the refuge of animals--and it is one of these, a shabby old bull that He specially loves and rides upon.
And here, too, come the spirits of all those men and women who are turbulent, troublesome and queer. All the people who are so ugly that no one wants to see them; those who do things clumsily, and talk loudly, and upset everything, though they mean no harm, and the poor things who are ridden by one idea, so that they never can see straight, but always seem a little mad--such are the souls on whom He alone has mercy. He is surrounded by them, and they love and worship Him. He uses them to do His errands, and they are known as Siva's demons.
But Siva is more even than this. He is the Self-born, the eternally-existent postulate of freedom and purity and light. He is the great teaching soul of things. His function is to destroy ignorance, and wherever knowledge is achieved, He is. His name of "Hara! Hara!" was the battle-cry of the Maratha. Hara means "The Free!” More yet, He is Rudra, the Storm, the Terrible; and it is under this aspect that Hinduism raises to Him its daily cry:
Evermore protect us,--O thou terrible!--
From ignorance, by thy sweet compassionate face.
For, after all, a human quality is always limited to one of two; the Divine must be lifted above good as well as evil, above joy as well as pain. The devotional significance interpreted as in the Hindi song of Surdas, which is here repeated as a nautch-girl was heard to sing it in a Rajput Court:
O Lord, look not upon my evil qualities!
Thy name, O Lord, is Same-sightedness,
By Thy touch, if Thou wilt, Thou canst make me pure.
One drop of water is in the sacred Jumna,
Another is foul in the ditch by the roadside,
But when they fall into the Ganges,
Both alike become holy.
One piece of iron is the image in the temple,
Another is the knife in the hand of the butcher,
But when they touch the philosopher's stone,
Both alike turn to gold.
So, Lord, look not upon my evil qualities!
Thy name, O Lord, is Same-sightedness,
Make us both the same Brahman.
Source: Kali the Mother by NIVEDITA NOV. 1899
