THE OLDEST STORY
It was the young seeker, Shaunaka’s curiosity which finally got bits and pieces of Shiva’s known episodes out from the wise sage Suta.
“Tell us about Shiva, the mountain God, respected Sutji,” Shaunaka would implore the master.
Suta himself had been vouchsafed these precious bits by his predecessor in the Shiva quest, the even older sage Sanatkumara.
What charmed Shaunaka the most was how animated his master Suta would become when he got into the details of Shiva’s stories. It was as if he saw the episodes himself; as if he was not just told about the scenes, but had been a real witness.
“Ah, but I have been a witness, my dear Shaunaka, but in a realm that is way too subtle for the ordinary eye to see, for the ordinary ear to hear. I have been witness,” Suta would sigh and continue. “There was a time when Shiva Himself told His story to the forest dwellers, and Vyasa, the bard, used his prolific skill to record the self-revelations of the Divine One.”
“And Sanatkumara? He learned it from Vyasa?” asked Shaunaka.
“No. Sanatkumara knew the story for himself.”
“Even before Vyasa?”
“Yes, even before Vyasa. In fact, he did visit Vyasa only to make him revise what Shiva had taught. Sanatkumara is enigmatic; he looks young but is older than most. Some say he is the son of Shiva Himself!”
“Alright, so Shiva told His own story to His son Kumara, and also to some others…”
“Yes, that is right. Shiva told His own story from time to time, like He did with Vyasa.”
“And then?”
“And then, true to His trademark humility, Shiva receded into the background. But perhaps, wishing secretly that we would all remember Him, we would all know His legend, always.”
“Tell us about Shiva, the mountain God, respected Sutji,” Shaunaka would implore the master.
Suta himself had been vouchsafed these precious bits by his predecessor in the Shiva quest, the even older sage Sanatkumara.
What charmed Shaunaka the most was how animated his master Suta would become when he got into the details of Shiva’s stories. It was as if he saw the episodes himself; as if he was not just told about the scenes, but had been a real witness.
“Ah, but I have been a witness, my dear Shaunaka, but in a realm that is way too subtle for the ordinary eye to see, for the ordinary ear to hear. I have been witness,” Suta would sigh and continue. “There was a time when Shiva Himself told His story to the forest dwellers, and Vyasa, the bard, used his prolific skill to record the self-revelations of the Divine One.”
“And Sanatkumara? He learned it from Vyasa?” asked Shaunaka.
“No. Sanatkumara knew the story for himself.”
“Even before Vyasa?”
“Yes, even before Vyasa. In fact, he did visit Vyasa only to make him revise what Shiva had taught. Sanatkumara is enigmatic; he looks young but is older than most. Some say he is the son of Shiva Himself!”
“Alright, so Shiva told His own story to His son Kumara, and also to some others…”
“Yes, that is right. Shiva told His own story from time to time, like He did with Vyasa.”
“And then?”
“And then, true to His trademark humility, Shiva receded into the background. But perhaps, wishing secretly that we would all remember Him, we would all know His legend, always.”
In time, when Shaunaka grew old and himself sported a free flowing white beard, he often told the story to his own disciples.
“With Shiva, who knows?” he would remember Suta’s words.
“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. The delight of the neophyte in the hearing of the stories remained ever the same, ever fresh and ever in wonderment, and who was to say, perhaps, as Suta had suggested, somewhere in His snowy abode, The great mountain God too, smiled in approval.
“With Shiva, who knows?” he would remember Suta’s words.
“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. The delight of the neophyte in the hearing of the stories remained ever the same, ever fresh and ever in wonderment, and who was to say, perhaps, as Suta had suggested, somewhere in His snowy abode, The great mountain God too, smiled in approval.
( From the book SHIVA, The Ultimate Time Traveller.)
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