Prem Purana Page 6

  ‘I bless you with valour, my son,’ said Parvati. ‘You will embody the light of wisdom that guides devotees to moksha.’

  Goddess Lakshmi said, ‘At the opportune time, you will marry a girl who will be as lovely and loving as me. Her name will be Pushti and she will help you ensure the well-being of the universe.’

  Suddenly, Ganesha and Riddhi were back in the forest amidst the chatter of birds. They could hear the turbulence of the Ganga that was swollen with the melting of the snow in the mountains. Buddhi came to join them, with Neela perched on her shoulder, trilling as she fed him some grapes.

  ‘You have not told us anything about Pushti,’ said Riddhi, ‘though I am sure that I am much prettier than she could have ever been!’ She lifted up her chin in challenge. ‘What was so special about her, except that she showered you with extravagant praise?’

  ‘She gave me two sons, Kshema and Labha, who bless my devotees with prosperity and profit,’ he replied.

  Riddhi stared at him for a moment in silence. There was nothing she could say to this. She walked away, deciding to seek out her Sumukha whose adoration was always pleasing.

  Buddhi lingered, her face tense. Ganesha looked silently at her and waited for her to speak.

  ‘Born by Krishna’s grace . . .’ she murmured. ‘And we know that the lord of Dwaraka had 16,000 wives.’

  Ganesha looked mournfully at her. He had to win the three sisters over for they were essential to his happiness and the well-being of the world. But it seemed that he took one step forward only to retreat two steps. While Buddhi was deep and brooding, Siddhi was still hostile. How could he ever succeed?

  Then he heard a voice in his ear. His face brightened and he nodded vigorously. ‘I am truly blessed, divine Krishna!’ he said. Who could help him woo these girls better than the god who danced with the gopis? He saw Buddhi staring at him with a question in her eyes. ‘I will tell you one day,’ he replied. If I ever succeed in winning your heart, he added to himself.

  In the days that followed, Ganesha spent all the time he could with the three sisters, taking various forms in order to appeal to them. As Sumukha, he courted Riddhi with ardent protestations of love, his eyes stormy and his hair dishevelled and falling in curls to his shoulders.

  ‘When will you be my very own, sweet Riddhi? Do you not hear me call for you through the night like the chakravaka bird separated from its mate?’ he asked her as he wove bright jasmine blossoms into her tresses. ‘The parrots in the parijata tree will tell you how I toss ceaselessly like the ocean when I am away from you. I waste away like the crescent moon, yearning for you when you leave me each day.’

  Riddhi delighted in hearing his extravagant verses and rewarded him with sweet kisses. She made him garlands of wild flowers and showered him with adoration.

  ‘I am jealous of your flute as it tastes your lips by day and night,’ she said. ‘I envy the sylvan pools that worship your body with their crystal waters. No god can ever equal you in grace or charm, dearest Sumukha.’

  As for Buddhi, Ganesha knew that he had to woo her with prose from the puranas and poetry from the Vedas. He taught her the meaning of Om and helped her meditate on the Supreme. He helped her rescue wounded creatures and to transfer fish from a fast-depleting pool to a larger one fed by a babbling brook.

  Buddhi called him Adi when they were alone, for to her he would always be the young lad who had defied Vishnu and Shiva for his mother. He was the dauntless Vinayaka with the blissful face and whimsical smile. Taller than most men, with thick dark hair flying in the wind, he was always prepared for a challenge. He would protect them with his might and his wits. He was friendly and generous of heart, blessing his devotees when they brought him a dish of honey, a luscious mango or a blue lily. He would sit with her for hours explaining the laws of karma, or help her understand philosophical texts. Then he would prance blissfully under the trees without a care in the world. His myriad forms and moods intrigued her. Which one was the real Ganesha? Was he everything he appeared to be or was he putting on an act to win her over? She had grown to like him a great deal, but some doubts still lingered in her mind.

  Even the quick-tempered Siddhi was impressed by his prowess when he whirled Parasurama into the skies and granted her a vision of the higher lokas. She grudgingly allowed him to teach her how to use her weapons better. However, she swiftly demolished any hopes that Ganesha may have had of getting closer to her with these lessons.

  ‘I seek your help only because I wish to equip myself for my fight with Kamasura,’ she said, looking directly into his eyes. ‘But that is all. I will give you the respect due to a teacher, but do not misconstrue my actions to mean anything more.’

  At least respect is better than hostility, Ganesha consoled himself.

  When Siddhi told her sisters and her guru about her progress, Sage Kapila told her that it was essential for her to learn something that was on a higher plane. ‘Do not underestimate Lord Ganesha because of his unusual appearance or his impish air,’ he said. ‘He presides over the muladhara chakra, which is the base chakra and enables you to connect to universal energy.’

  ‘What does that mean to me?’ Siddhi asked him.

  ‘It means that he is the only one who can help you unlock your true power, awakening the kundalini shakti residing within you. Shiva’s son is the gatekeeper between the material and spiritual realms, and only with his guidance can you control the lower energies such as fear, lust and ego. Hence, you cannot subdue Kamasura without Ganesha’s help.’

  As Siddhi’s sole objective was to defeat the asura, she put aside all other considerations to seek Ganesha’s aid in this as well, and he readily obliged. Soon she began to spend all her waking hours with him. They meditated together and performed the mandated rituals to unleash her inner power. Encouraged by their increasingly harmonious relationship, he approached her diffidently one day to ask her something that had been troubling him from the time they had first met.

  ‘We have known each other awhile and I thought I could take the liberty to ask you a question,’ he began tentatively.

  ‘Yes?’ she encouraged him to go on.

  ‘I would like to find out . . . maybe you can tell me . . . what is the reason for your earlier rancour towards me?’ he finished in a rush.

  ‘To understand that, we must return to your avatara as Vikata,’ she said. ‘You may not remember me, but I remember you—with great anger!’

  Vikata. Meaning ‘unusually handsome’. Ganesha in this avatara was as splendid and brilliant as Surya. His face was divine; his head was not that of an elephant. His body was exquisitely sculpted and rivalled that of Kama. He was a vision of radiance, his eyes pools of wisdom. His vaahana was a peacock, symbolizing the beauty of the universe with its proudly raised head, its sleek neck and its magnificent feathered fan. The three realms marvelled at Vikata’s beauty, while the gods adored him as the embodiment of the cosmic spirit.

  Shiva’s son sat absorbed in fervent tapasya, wishing to invoke the powers of the Trimurti and the Shaktis. Tales of his scholarship, his prowess in fighting evil and his endearing nature spread far and wide. Devotees flocked to him and stood gazing in wonder as his body glowed with a fierce luminosity. Among them was Siddhi, who too had been enchanted by stories of his myriad feats. Her admiration was transformed to ardour when she saw his lustrous form, and she began to meditate on him, with the desire to be united with him in marriage.

  Siddhi watched and admired. She waited and prayed. When Vikata finally opened his eyes, she bashfully approached him and offered herself in marriage. However, he quickly rejected her, not even explaining why he could not marry her. She realized that he had not taken her seriously enough to even glance at her. Her intense prayers to him seemed not to matter either. His stern rebuff in front of hundreds of devotees who had gathered there wounded her pride. He had insulted her, made her feel unworthy. It was as if her piety, her purity and beauty were of no significance. She grew angry and construed his
behaviour as a planned insult to her. Why had she demeaned herself by offering her love to someone who did not value it?

  Siddhi’s heart was broken, her happiness destroyed. Her resentment soon grew into a rage. Vikata was not worthy of her love. She would spurn him one day just as he had spurned her. She finally immolated herself, her heart still burning within her.

  Ganesha was distressed to hear the story. His eyes were moist as he attempted to explain that he had meant her no insult. But she was not ready to listen to him. It appeared as if all her anger had returned as she narrated the events.

  ‘I can remember no earlier life except this one, perhaps because I was scarred by your reaction,’ she said angrily. ‘I recall your arrogance each time I see you, especially when you take a human face that reminds me of Vikata. How do you expect me to love you now when you spurned me so cruelly? No explanation you give can excuse your actions.’

  ‘Nevertheless, I beg you to listen, Siddhi,’ he said, looking pleadingly at her. When she did not protest or turn away, Ganesha was encouraged to continue. He began to tell her everything about his birth and life as Vikata.

  Brahma had been performing tapasya with his consort Saraswati, when he grew distracted by her beauty. He knew that this was not the time for such thoughts and plunged himself into the waters of a clear pond. But from his desire and momentary lapse of concentration was born the lustful Kamasura.

  Due to his origin in Brahma’s energy, the asura was so powerful that one day he captured Soma with his bare hands. Indra and the other devas had to plead with him to let Soma go, as the earth and its creatures suffered immensely without the light of the moon. Kamasura then began an intense tapasya in order to secure a boon from Shiva that would render him immortal. When the heat of his penance tormented devaloka, Shiva was forced to appear before him.

  ‘Bless me with powers that will confound Brahma and Indra,’ said Kamasura. Shiva raised his hand in blessing. ‘And grant me immortal life,’ he added.

  ‘All beings that are born must die,’ replied the lord of Kailasa. ‘Seek some other boon.’

  ‘Bless me with two lives wherein I will reign unrivalled in the three realms. Let me not be killed by any deva. Grant that I may be defeated only by someone imbued with the energies of the Trinity and their Shaktis, someone with the power to defeat the eight demons—envy, intoxication, delusion, greed, anger, lust, attachment and pride.’

  ‘You seek to make yourself invincible with all these stipulations,’ smiled Shiva. ‘Nevertheless, I grant you the boon you seek.’

  Thus blessed by Shiva, Kamasura invaded heaven and defeated Indra and his retinue and made them pay homage to him. Next he defeated the nagas, the gandharvas, the rakshasas, yakshas and humans.

  Seeing Siddhi’s rapt face, Ganesha pressed on with his tale. ‘Earth was in disarray due to Kamasura’s excesses, as were the heavens,’ he said. ‘I was born then as Vikata for the purpose of destroying him. In order to accomplish this, I embarked upon a severe tapasya to invoke the powers of the Trimurti and the Shaktis. I had to be celibate, abjuring Kama so that I could conquer Kamasura. Hence, I followed the stringent path of brahmacharya—achara or conduct leading to the realization of the Brahman within us. When the great powers awoke in me, I fought a fierce battle with Kamasura and defeated him. But due to Shiva’s boon that he would enjoy two lives of unrivalled power, he was able to escape. He has now taken birth as Prince Gana and continues to torment the universe. I hope you can understand why I could not allow love into my life as Vikata. Due to the fierceness of my penance, I could not even look upon your face lest I should be diverted from my purpose. I realize now that I wounded you grievously with my seeming disregard, and beg your forgiveness and understanding.’

  He looked at her face with hope, for they were meant to be together. Siddhi saw the love in his eyes, but was not yet ready to give in. She focused instead on setting free the dormant shakti within her without which she could not hope to defeat Kamasura. And to do this, she needed Gajamukha to be her teacher.

  ‘The kundalini rests like a coiled serpent at the base of your spine,’ he said. ‘To awaken this energy, you need to discard your ego and realize your true self through inner purification. Then you have to raise your awareness to the crown of your head through meditation and devotion.’

  He had put it simply, but the path to this awakening was not easy, especially to a girl who was used to having her own way. Siddhi had led a pampered life with a family that indulged her every mood and defended her headstrong temperament. To now control her mind and rein in her impulses was difficult, but Ganesha was with her at every step, always patient, as he explained, guided, pushed and motivated.

  ‘I think it would be easier to defeat a hundred armies than to subdue my mind!’ she exclaimed one day, after yet another arduous session during which she failed to attain the mental clarity that she sought. Would she be able to achieve her goal before Kamasura descended on them?

  8

  The Chintamani

  Ganesha was not ready to give up so easily, however. Every time Siddhi glanced at his smiling face, she felt her energy expand once more. She persisted with her efforts, making steady progress, until one day Parvati showered her blessings upon her.

  Siddhi was thrilled at the wondrous power that surged through her body and mind like a flood of nectar. She chanted the Devi’s thousand names in thanksgiving. And then she bowed gratefully to Ganesha without whom her enlightenment would not have been possible.

  Will she accept me now? he wondered. And waited. But there was no time for more.

  Buddhi came running to him, carrying something carefully in her cupped palms. He saw that it was Neela, bleeding from a wound on his shoulder. ‘Prince Gana—Kamasura is here!’ she exclaimed in panic. ‘He saw me while I was on my way here and pursued me. I fled down hidden paths in the forest but the monster wounded Neela with an arrow. Adi, you must save him. Can you? Please say that you can. He is in so much pain!’ she cried.

  Siddhi took up guard with her bow and arrows at the ready, waiting to see if the asura had followed her sister to their arbour. Meanwhile, Ganesha took the bird gently from Buddhi and slowly moved his hand over the bird’s bleeding body. A silvery light enveloped the bird and the edges of the wound closed. He moved his palm over the bird again and Neela stirred slowly, giving a feeble cheep. His hand moved a third time and now Neela stood up on Ganesha’s palm. Buddhi wept with relief and gave Ganesha a tremulous smile of gratitude. The young god bent to whisper something in the bird’s ear and Neela hopped for an instant onto her shoulder and then vanished among the trees.

  ‘What did you say? Why did he fly away?’ asked Buddhi.

  ‘It is not safe for him to be near you as long as Kamasura is in pursuit,’ replied Ganesha. ‘The demon delights in venting his spleen on innocent creatures. Neela will return to you once the coast is clear.’

  ‘Let us go now,’ said an anxious Siddhi. ‘Kapila and his students will be helpless if Kamasura were to attack them now. We can only hope that he does not reach the ashram looking for Buddhi.’

  But her hopes were in vain. It was not difficult for the asura to discover the ashram nestled in the trees near the river. He came with his demon army, tearing down the huts, driving out the ascetics and kicking mud and stones into the sacrificial fires to extinguish them. As he stood laughing at the havoc he had caused, Siddhi emerged with her weapons and shouted at him to stop.

  His eyes devoured her beauty and he ordered his men to move back so that he could talk to her. ‘So you were the one who fled from me that day,’ he said, leering. She stood silent, unwilling to reveal that there were three of them. But, alas! Her sisters had come to stand by her side in a misguided attempt to show their support.

  ‘Three girls, each one a gem!’ he exclaimed. ‘You three will be the crown jewels in my harem. I thank the gods that I came this way . . . But no! I forget that there are no more gods in heaven. I myself am now Indra, Surya and Brahma. And
all that I see is mine!’ He roared with arrogant laughter.

  He strode forward swiftly, eager to embrace their petal-soft bodies and kiss their sweet lips. Riddhi and Buddhi cowered behind Siddhi as she drew out her sword.

  ‘You will have to kill me before you can lay hands on me and my sisters,’ she declared.

  He stopped in his tracks, howling in amusement. ‘Do you think you can fight a warrior who has defeated Indra?’ he scoffed. ‘You look so beautiful with your eyes of fire! Tell me your name, sweet one. Whose daughter are you and why do you live here with these dour ascetics?’

  ‘We are Brahma’s daughters,’ Siddhi replied. ‘I hear that you too were born from our father’s energy. Hence, we are your sisters, though it is not a relationship that I am proud of. Leave us now, Kamasura, and we will attempt to forget your coarse overtures.’

  ‘I do not obey the rules the gods have laid down,’ he retorted. ‘And Shiva’s boon makes me impervious to your father’s powers. Therefore, I see no hurdle to satisfying my desire with the three of you!’

  ‘You are loathsome!’ shouted Siddhi. ‘Fly from here or I will tear you from limb to limb!’

  ‘I see that you are pretending disinterest so as to inflame my passion, temptress,’ he said. ‘But your curved body and flashing eyes have already weakened me with desire. Come to me and we will have glorious sons who will rule the universe.’

  ‘Brahma’s daughters to become members of your harem? Stop dreaming, asura!’

  ‘So you are jealous of my other queens!’ he exclaimed. ‘Do not worry, for I will cast them aside, though they may be exquisite princesses and apsaras. I will marry you three and we will reign together until the end of time, like Shiva and Parvati.’

  Sage Kapila arrived in haste, aroused from his meditation on the banks of the Ganga by the news that the asura prince had descended on the ashram.