High in the mountains of Tibet in the Himalayas lies Mt. Kailash, around the dry slopes of the Himalayas that wear a bare look quite different from the evergreen valleys in other parts of the mountain range. From Mt. Kailash at a distance to the left, one can spot the Manasarovar with its natural beauty, quite contrasting to the surrounding environment. The environment itself seems spiritual enough away from the evils of the real world, even today. Nearby, there is a Buddhist monastery. But thousands of years before the birth of Gautama Buddha, there resided local tribes in this land. They struggled with basic everyday necessities of food and shelter, and fought nature daily to sustain their lives. The mountains had forests and available food then, different from what it is today.
Their leader was a man of bravery and spirituality so high that they called him " Lord of the land". His self-taught archery skills, trident moves and yoga were famous all over the subcontinent of Aryavarta, and sages flocked to the mountains to gain philosophical and spiritual knowledge from Him. Warriors flocked to Him to gain his archery skills. But he preferred peace and solitude to warfare and weapons.
The mountains did not allow any luxury to their inhabitants. Thus, His shield from the cold was a tiger skin and His home where the mountain caves and forests with His tribe. Occasionally, when the winters were harsh, they had to travel to other parts of the Aryavarta. All the kingdoms welcomed Him as the Lord. His knowledge of the world and life and death was truly more than any other in his time. He chose bachelorhood to maintain himself from worldly pleasures and materialism.
However, it was not easy for Him to maintain the vow. On one of his journeys to the Ganga River, as he sat in yoga asana, a princess spotted him. She was the youngest Princess of Devagiri Kankhal near the Gangas. Unlike the people of Aryavarta, she and her family were shunned from any knowledge of this Great Man. Her father hated the tribe for reasons unknown, and never in her sixteen years of life has she heard of the Lord. As he sat on a rock clad in his Tiger skin attire and a Jata over His unmane long hair, she stared at this unknown man, awestruck. Somebody was playing the flute near the banks, and it seemed like the perfect moment. The Princess of Devagiri was in love!
He wore the Rudraksha, dried fruit as a jewel, and suddenly she spotted a Rudraksha that had fallen off His unmane hair onto the water of the river. The princess picked it up. Her heavy Navratna and Gold jewellery seemed like clay to that one fruit. She took it home. Her twenty-seven sisters were in the Antarmahal gossiping and laughing when She entered in haste, turning the attention towards Herself.
The next day, she visited the Banks again. He was smoking chillum with his tribe's men. For the first time, the sounds of women's anklets made Him turn. As he looked at her, a sixteen-year-old girl clad in all the riches of the land, her eyes shone with childish innocence, yet her dusky skin shone the most in the sun!
He asked her what she wanted. She asked Him to marry her. The witnessing tribe gasped! What an audacity on this Princess's part to ask a vowed bachelor to marry her?! That to Her father's enemy. But he was mesmerised by this bravery. Oh, how He wanted Her to be His! But he had to refuse. Their social differences were too big to ignore, His vow too important to break. He knew what destruction He could cause. No girl could stay with him. And, she was too innocent to be hurt. He refused with a straight face. Her eyes shone with a tear. She fought back.
Hearing what his Daughter had done to shame him, the angry King decided it was time to marry her off to a Prince. He announced a Swayamvar. The land buzzed with news of the Princess's wedding as it reached His ears. He stood on the dark banks alone, looking at the shining waters. He was hurt. His friend and advisor in the tribe came looking for Him. Even in the dark, His pain was evident to his friend.
A sound familiar startled Him. It was her anklet. He turned around. She told Him if He did not come to save her, she would do the inevitable. Her words were angry. And the message was clear. I know you feel the same for me...
On the day of the wedding, as the King attended to his guests, he made sure the palace guards did not let any vagabond tribal animals enter the premises. A figure similar to Him was put in the Hallway to mock him if he dared to show up.
She walked down the aisle as Princes and Kings looked at her with lusty eyes. She made her way out of the door and into the hallway as everyone gasped. The King ordered his soldiers to catch her. She, without thought, put the garland around the figure's neck! The court stood in awe. The Princess has married a figure! Everyone from the Palace guards to the maids rushed to see. The King stood dumbfounded.
There was a commotion in the Hallway, but all she heard was one sound, the most beautiful one in her life. His Damru. As people made their way, He came up to her. Their eyes were still locked, and they felt alone in that crowd. Her eyes felt hazy as He wiped away her tears! She took the garland from the statue and placed it around his neck. People cheered as He held her hand and took her away from the luxuries of the palace with him to his Abode at Mt. Kailash.
She was his inspiration for making music. She danced while he sang. Their days passed by in merriment. One day, she came to know that her father had organised a Yajna. He invited all the Gods and Goddesses, Sages and Saints except them. Naively, she decided to visit home.
Upon her decision, he tried to make her understand in vain. Giving in to her will to go home, he sends his favourite follower with her. They arrived at Kankhal Palace to realise they were not welcome. Her father started insulting her husband in front of everyone. Angered and humiliated, she jumped into the same yajna Kund that was made for the Gods. Today, we see the 51 Peeth as places where parts of her body fell when Shiva did a Tandav with it.
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| Shiva Carrying Sati, Kalighat Style Painting. |
