SRISTI ISWARA MAHARAJ
Sati loved the ancient shivlinga called Sristi Iswara Maharaj. Whenever She approached the forest, She felt Her feet breaking into a run; She could never just walk. In the forest, She thought She clearly heard the leaves rustling into a chorus of invitation, singing ‘Sristi Iswara Maharaj’.
This became a daily ritual: She would not stop running till She reached the enigmatic Shivlinga, Her heart beating and the leaves pulsating with Her run till she arrived at the Sristi Iswara.
Faster each day was the run and the pace of life, faster this divine heartbeat, the mystic crescendo that had become all -encompassing. So fast, that She would almost fall in sweet collapse at the Shivlinga.
And then She would remain there in bliss, for hours on end, day after each passing day. Till the days turned into months and the months into a year. Her entire life itself had become an offering, Her time a rosary count.
And then, one day, Shiva appeared.
Faster each day was the run and the pace of life, faster this divine heartbeat, the mystic crescendo that had become all -encompassing. So fast, that She would almost fall in sweet collapse at the Shivlinga.
And then She would remain there in bliss, for hours on end, day after each passing day. Till the days turned into months and the months into a year. Her entire life itself had become an offering, Her time a rosary count.
And then, one day, Shiva appeared.
He was magnificent.
Tall, and beautifully chiseled. His chest was large and firm.
A cobra wrapped around His neck was peering down at this chest, as if he had being doing that for an eternity.
Sensing Sati’s presence, the cobra arose swiftly from what seemed a blissful slumber, and darting out a forked tongue, he looked at her with hypnotic eyes, putting her into almost a magical spell.
Tall, and beautifully chiseled. His chest was large and firm.
A cobra wrapped around His neck was peering down at this chest, as if he had being doing that for an eternity.
Sensing Sati’s presence, the cobra arose swiftly from what seemed a blissful slumber, and darting out a forked tongue, he looked at her with hypnotic eyes, putting her into almost a magical spell.
Shiva wore a tigerskin and innumerable brown beads. The beads were woven together like rosaries and cosied themselves all along His upper torso. They were also draped around His arms in tight embrace as amulets. In His right hand He held a rustic looking trident, the Trisula.
( From SHIVA, The Ultimate Time Traveller.)
( From SHIVA, The Ultimate Time Traveller.)
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