THE OLDEST STORY
The next morning , Shaunaka was up early. He had had a deep, dreamy sleep, but he awoke at sunrise, fresh as the new day.
He came out of his own hut and started walking hurriedly to the hut of Guru Suta.
Suta himself was awake, already bathed and seated on his kusa grass mat. Before Shaunaka could even ask his question, Suta answered, “Yes,we will continue the story of Shiva today.
“So, what is Shiva like?” asked Shaunaka. “Does He have arms that are more muscular than anyone? Is it true that He is built like a tree? And that He can lift a mountain ox without any effort?”
Suta laughed at the innocence of a child’s curiosity. “Shiva is stronger than any man. He is spectacularly built. Not as enormous as some of His own mountain men, but spectacular in symmetry, and yes, He can lift an ox without any effort,” Suta replied.
“Oh!” said Shaunaka in wonder.
“Sometimes it is like a game of love,” Suta continued. “The Oxen wouldn’t let anyone else even touch them, but with Shiva, it is different; they too love Him, like all else in the forest, and allow themselves to be lifted in sport! In fact, the denizens of the forests wait to be met by Shiva; they wait to be in His company.”
He came out of his own hut and started walking hurriedly to the hut of Guru Suta.
Suta himself was awake, already bathed and seated on his kusa grass mat. Before Shaunaka could even ask his question, Suta answered, “Yes,we will continue the story of Shiva today.
“So, what is Shiva like?” asked Shaunaka. “Does He have arms that are more muscular than anyone? Is it true that He is built like a tree? And that He can lift a mountain ox without any effort?”
Suta laughed at the innocence of a child’s curiosity. “Shiva is stronger than any man. He is spectacularly built. Not as enormous as some of His own mountain men, but spectacular in symmetry, and yes, He can lift an ox without any effort,” Suta replied.
“Oh!” said Shaunaka in wonder.
“Sometimes it is like a game of love,” Suta continued. “The Oxen wouldn’t let anyone else even touch them, but with Shiva, it is different; they too love Him, like all else in the forest, and allow themselves to be lifted in sport! In fact, the denizens of the forests wait to be met by Shiva; they wait to be in His company.”
“This is fascinating, Gurudeva… tell me more!” implored Shaunaka.
“Time can only tell stories in bits about the Timeless, Shaunaka,” said the wise Sage quietly. “The story will go on and on, forever. There will be many more tellings, many more listenings…” his voice trailed away.
In time, when Shaunaka grew old and himself sported a free flowing white beard, he often told the story to his own disciples.
“What we do know, is that Shiva has been here from the very first sightings, and the very first stories about Him were told by Him Himself,” Shaunaka would begin, saluting his own Guru from his heart, bowing his head in the direction of the giant banyan tree under which he had sat with Suta for tutelage.
Through generations of the forest dwellers, the constant retelling of these narratives of the great forester came to be called the
Shiva Mahapurana.
“What we do know, is that Shiva has been here from the very first sightings, and the very first stories about Him were told by Him Himself,” Shaunaka would begin, saluting his own Guru from his heart, bowing his head in the direction of the giant banyan tree under which he had sat with Suta for tutelage.
Through generations of the forest dwellers, the constant retelling of these narratives of the great forester came to be called the
Shiva Mahapurana.
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