Maharishi

The earth rumbled every five minutes and flashes of light painted the night until it was bright as daytime. A gazelle or two would occasionally look towards the general direction of the commotion. However, the animals of the jungle had grown accustomed to the pesky little earthquakes and light shows. The animals had no idea that there was a war going outside the boundaries of their forest. A war between humans and demons!

Prince Karnakashyap had once been renowned for killing demons. His empire stretched from the great mountains in the north to the vast ocean towards the south, and from the edge of the desert in the west to the edge of the mystic Kamarupa kingdom in the east. He had fought great battles on every terrain, in every climate, against every foe that existed in the veritable vastness of Bharatvarsha.

Then, at the peak of his career, Karnakashyap fell in love. It would've been so convenient had he fallen in love with a princess or a chieftain's daughter. This story would've either not existed or it would've been about his great military adventures. But he fell in love with a saffron-robed maiden known as Pallavi, daughter of Rishi Pundarika.

Rishi was a title awarded to only the most accomplished and wise sages in Bharatvarsha. Many Brahmin sages went their entire lives practising a strict lifestyle of meditation and austerity but never earned that coveted title. Sages converted from other castes had it even harder, as the mindset of a Brahmin is difficult to attain and must be inculcated right from childhood. Needless to say, a Rishi had unquestionable social authority. A Rishi's word had to be obeyed, no questions asked, even if you were a king.

Pallavi loved Karnakashyap too. She didn't hesitate in telling him that when he confessed. But for them to get married, her father's permission was paramount. So Karnakashyap arranged for a great royal procession carrying exotic gifts from lands far away, to impress the great sage. The prince himself arrived poised on a magnificent mare, dressed in his ceremonial best, to ask for Pallavi's hand.

When Rishi Pundarika saw the prince and his procession, he laughed and said, "Who, dear prince, do you seek to impress by offering that which doesn't belong to you?"

Before the prince could think of an answer, the Rishi spoke again, "I know your purpose behind visiting me like this. But if you want me to let you marry my daughter, you cannot remain a Kshatriya. For Kshatriya is a lower caste than Brahmin, and I will not allow my daughter to descend to a lower caste, you will have to ascend to her level."

Karnakashyap had never backed down from a challenge. He wasn't going to start then. He dismounted his horse, threw his elegant robe on the ground, and faced the Rishi.

"If those are your terms," the prince said, "then I shall forfeit my rights upon my kingdom and titles. I shall be a Kshatriya no more and shall give up combat forever. I shall tread the path of the sages and be rid of all worldly possessions. Would this be acceptable for you to let me marry Pallavi?"

"This is not a battle that you can win with bravery and willpower alone, Karnakashyap," Rishi Pundarika said. "Even amongst the Brahmins, my daughter is an elite. She is the only daughter of a Rishi. My yogic powers and my karmic accomplishments are inherited naturally by her. She is a sage amongst sages and must marry someone who is her equal. If you want to marry Pallavi, you must be anointed a Maharishi by Lord Shiva."

The proclamation swept the earth from below Karnakashyap's feet. Cold sweat formed tiny beads on his brows and a vacuum manifested inside his stomach. If Rishi was a title awarded to one in a million sages, Maharishi was a title awarded to one in a million Rishi sages. A handful of Maharishi sages appeared in an era, and sometimes eras passed without a single sage being granted the title Maharishi. Only a handful of Kshatriyas had ever become a Maharishi. The legendary sage Vishwamitra, for example. And it took him a thousand years of meditation to achieve that title.

But Karnakashyap had made up his mind. The love of his life was standing behind the Rishi, looking at him without a strain mark on her forehead. She was smiling. The prince smiled too.

"Then it is decided," Karnakashyap declared. "I shall meditate and become a Maharishi anointed by Shiva. Then I shall marry your daughter, Rishi Pundarika. That is my vow."

The prince motioned his procession to leave and turned to walk away in a separate direction. "I shall wait for Karnakshyap to come back as a Maharishi," Pallavi's voice followed him. "I'll wait for as many lifetimes as it takes. That is my vow."

Ages had passed since that vow was made. Karnakashyap had turned from a young hot-blooded Kshatriya into a senile Rishi lost in meditation. His silver beard was impossible to differentiate from his hair, his body tiny and motionless like a statue. Seasons, animals, demons, even deities had tried very hard to stop his eternal meditation, but he had stayed as unwavering as his vow. Pallavi was lost in meditation somewhere else, keeping herself alive through yogic powers alone.

Rishi Karnakashyap's yogic powers protected the forest from intruders. Like an invisible force field, it surrounded the forest's fringes. The first few decades had been hard, Karnakashyap had no idea how to become a sage and he had no teacher. He spent many years as a disciple of several sages, but he soon realized that it was fruitless. His goal lay far beyond the capability of normal sages. It was a path that he'd have to tread alone. 

When he took the solitary path, he experienced an awakening of unearthly powers inside him. So when he finally found a suitable place to go into meditation, he decided to make it safe for the creatures sharing the place with him. Penance and kindness had been Vishwamitra's allies in his quest to become a Maharishi, Karnakshyap believed that the same path would lead him to his goal.

And thus a thousand years passed.

An eternity of subjecting himself to complete detachment was finally over when a deep voice projected in his mind, "open your eyes, son. I am here."

Karnakashyap opened his eyes very slowly, not giving in to joy and surprise. A pleasant expression was writ over his face as he greeted the god he had waited so long for.

"What took you so long in coming here," he asked.

"I came here as fast as I could, son," the addressee said. "What took you so long in calling me?"

Lord Shiva, the most lenient god in the holy trinity of Brahma, Vishnu, and Mahesh. He spent most of his time meditating and granting boons to humans, demons, anyone who meditated hard enough. Sometimes he had been criticized for granting boons too often and too thoughtlessly, but it was common knowledge that he was an excellent judge of character. Within moments of appearing before Karnakashyap, he proved it yet again by pointing towards the last shred of pride that the Kshatriya sage had. Karnakashyap folded his hands humbly, praising Lord Shiva.

"You have shown tremendous patience and humility in your meditation," Shiva said. "I am impressed with you. You may ask me for any boon, except immortality, and it shall be granted."

"You already know what I want, O great one," said Karnakashyap.

"I do," Shiva said, "but I want to hear the words come out of your mouth. That is the way boons work. You need to ask for them."

Shiva looked exactly like the scriptures described. His dazzling smile was captivating, but it also conveyed how mystic gods were.

Karnakashyap knew exactly what he wanted to ask for. He wanted to become a Maharishi, marry Pallavi, and live his life with her. But for that to happen, he needed to ask Shiva to revert him and Pallavi to their youth. Fortunately, it was allowed to add as many clauses in a boon as the person requesting it wished for. He wanted the Maharishi title and youth for himself and his beloved. Karnakashyap had revised the words in his head thousands of times, even before he had started meditation.

But before he could open his mouth to speak, a streak of thunder passed over his head and culminated in a blast nearby. It wasn't visible from where Karnakashyap was, but he had spent enough time in the forest to know where exactly the blast had landed.

"It must be a remnant of a clash between demonic weapons," he said. "There is a hill where the thunder struck. I should check if any animals have been injured because of it."

"Go freely, son," Shiva said. "You waited a thousand years for me. I can wait a few moments for you. Come, I will walk with you."

And so, accompanied by Lord Shiva, Karnakashyap reached the foot of the hill. Upon seeing the place, he was positively baffled.

"What is this?"

The surface of the hill had been eroded away by the blast, revealing some kind of a glacier inside. In the glacier, there were a few tiny human forms frozen in place. Little kids, mummified in ice.

"These children were born well before your time," Shiva said. "Unfortunately, they were forced to sacrifice their lives in order to save the world from imminent destruction."

"Sacrifice their lives," the sage asked, "do you mean they are dead?"

"Not yet," Shiva said. "They have been asleep all this time, buried in the hill. But now that the hill is gone, their life is fading away fast."

"Can you save them?" Karnakashyap knew the answer but still asked.

"Of course I can," Shiva said. "But I don't intervene in the affairs of the mortal world except for some special circumstances."

"Special circumstances," Karnakashyap smiled, "like a boon, for example?"

Neither sage nor god spoke for a long moment. Karnakashyap knew the dilemma he had been put in. Shiva knew what Karnakashyap was thinking.

"You must ask for your boon now," Shiva finally said. "Your beloved is dying, I know you can sense that. Meditation has kept her alive far longer than a human is supposed to live. She will not survive the end of this hour."

Karnakashyap smiled again. Pallavi must've smiled too, wherever she was. He could feel it.

As many lifetimes as it takes.

"Then hear me, O Shiva," Karnakashyap spoke. "By the grace of your power and my karmic devotion to you, I wish for this. Let these innocent children be free from their ice prison. Let them be returned to the life that they deserved but never got. Let this ice melt and the inhabitants inside be granted a long and healthy life. That is the boon that I wish for."

"Tathastu," Shiva said, raising his right palm. The smile on his face was as dazzling as it had been when he first appeared. "This ice will melt and these children will come out unharmed, like waking up from a deep sleep."

Karnakashyap collapsed on the ground as soon as the words left Shiva's lips. His yogic powers had been exhausted, and death had finally caught up to him. But before his final breath left him, Shiva spoke to him one last time.

"Karnakashyap, my child, you are a true Maharishi!"

Originally published on my old blog at http://thedosstories.blogspot.com/.