|
|
Shiva and Parvati |
A story about the relationship between Shiva and his wife Parvati. |
|
Aimee Ginsburg
8/16/2008 12:00:00 AM |
|
|
|
One evening, as the flames had calmed and the room was filled with a lovely afterglow, Shiva ran his fingers through his wife Parvati's long hair, black as the night which was overtaking the light, kissed her eyebrow, and settled down contentedly on their double tiger fur rug.
"My darling," he said, in that universal language in which they spoke to each other, "I have decided that tonight I am going to tell you the secret of immortality. Listen up my dear, I have never given away this secret before, and surely never will again. This is the deepest secret of existence, the actual answer to the Mystery, and it is not supposed to be spoken, ever. But," now he might have laid his arm on her smooth and curvy saffron belly, "I love you, you are my other half. I don't want to lose you anymore, so listen up."
(This last bit might not have been actually said, Shiva being who he is, a God, yes, but a very manly one; probably not all that great with talking about his feelings. He had others ways to show what he feels - like that time he was so upset he caused winter to come upon the world for several eons. But, we digress.)
And then Shiva, lord of the universe, put his blue arm under his dread locked head, pushed the cobra that lived around his neck a bit to the side, took a small puff on his peace pipe, his chillum filled with lovely himalayan weed and began to talk.
And he talked, and he talked. It was the most mystically electrifying talk that had ever been given in the history of all times. Every detail of the workings of reality, Immortality For Dummies, and for Geniuses as well. As he talked, he closed his eyes to the narrowest slits and let all of his vast knowledge spill out, spiraling and dancing like the smoke of his pipe, all of it a love offering to his beloved.
Oh, Parvati must of been so thrilled, so honored, and mostly,
so relieved to finally have the low down on this immortality thing
because frankly, she was in a bit of a jam.
Parvati was immortal anyway, of course, every bit as much as her other
half Shiva, as neither could exist with out the other, it was because of
them that there is in and out, black and white, on and off. But, she
had this horrible habit, and as hard as she tried she could not break
it.
She got involved with life. She really cared about the story she had made up with her husband, this story called MahaMaya in Sanskrit meaning grand illusion of existence.
She loved all of it, she was angry and jealous and afraid and prideful sometimes, tender and passionate, she had FEELINGS. And these feelings had her coming and going, forgetting the truth, forgetting who she really was. On the merry-go-round, just like the simple mortals, her creations. Her involvement and her emotions tired her out, and in the night time, after perfect love with her beloved, frankly, sorry, the last thing on her mind was to listen to a lecture on Metaphysical Reality. So, actually,
she fell asleep quite soon, she wasn't listening at all.
Do you think Shiva noticed that she wasn't even listening? You are right!
Actually, he even thought he had proof that she was listening, for wasn't she constantly saying "hoo, hoo" in agreement and enjoyment as he went on through the night? He was sure it was her. Hundreds of billions of years they are together, and he did not realize that the reassuring "hoo, hoo" was not coming from his wife.
And when first light came, he saw that she was sleeping in perfect
peace. But on the window sill sat a pigeon, who had been listening
intently to every word. The secret in the wrong claws! Shiva became
furious, something rare for this god who could sit in meditation,
easily, for 250,000 years.
He lunged at the poor pigeon, who went flying away, both chaser and
chase forgetting completely that they had spent all night understanding
immortality, remembering that there was never anything to fear. Quickly
flew the bird, quickly chased the beautiful blue god, and after some
time the bird, seeing a holy woman with her mouth wide open, flew right
inside, and down into her belly.
"Come out now so I can kill you!" Shiva demanded, his ash smeared body shaking with the insult, his cobras slithering through his dread locks.
"Um, I think I'll just stay in here, if ya don't mind," mumbled the shaken bird.
"Well," said Shiva, puffing up his chest, "I'm not going anywhere till
you come out, you rascal, you stole that knowledge and I want it back."
So, plunking himself down outside the gate, standing his trident in the
ground next to him, he sat down to wait.
And he waited. And twelve years passed, and still the bird would not come out.
Meanwhile, back at home, Parvati wasn't having such an easy go of it. Although used to Shiva's long absences, she never liked it very much. She wanted her husband back, if only to thrash him, verbally at least, for going away for so long. So she waited, and after twelve years she finally had had enough and she called her brothers in law, Brahma and Vishnu, to get their brother back.
When they went to him and saw him sitting there, like a drama king,
they did not know if to laugh or to worry. "Have you gone out of you
mind?" they asked him, and at that moment he came to his senses, and
danced a dance of ecstasy, and told the bird to come out and be who he
already was anyway - free, and immortal, like every other speck of
creation in the universe.
So the bird was born as a boy (still no one mentions the holy women,
pregnant for 12 years, giving birth to a grown boy.) The boy went on to
become one of India's wisest men and wrote books on mysticism which are
considered classics to this day.
And Shiva danced, until that moment that he remembered Parvati. His blue color must have turned to indigo as he murmured "holy me!" and rushed home to try and make amends. And he did, but this is where our curtain comes down.
comment:
p_commentcount