Prologue
Attracted by the sublime beauty around a Himalayan cave, Nārada enters into a long meditation. Sent by Indra to obstruct Nārada’s tapas, Kāmadeva fails in his attempts. Nārada forgives him and everywhere the event is celebrated as the protective act of the Lord to save his devotee. But Nārada sees the event as his own victory over lust and anger.
Puffed up with pride and hungering for recognition, he reports the event to Śiva, who advises him not to tell this to anyone else, especially not to Śrī Hari. But Nārada repeats his tale before the Lord anyway. The Lord smiles and, to bring his devotee back on the right path, creates a magic kingdom where a Svayaṁvara is being held for the princess.
Nārada happens to visit the place, falls in love with the princess and, in order to win her hand in marriage, begs the Lord for a divine form. Since the Lord is present everywhere and in everyone, every form is the Lord’s form. Śrī Hari gives Nārada the face of a monkey.
Nārada at the Svayaṁvara
Nārada entered the Svayaṁvara hall. Hundreds of kings had gathered for the ceremony, all with eager expectations of winning Viśvamohinī’s hand in marriage. When Nārada appeared at the door, all the kings stood up with reverence and saluted the divine sage.
Surprised that they did so to one carrying a monkey-face on his shoulders? The truth was that the kings present there saw Nārada in his usual form. The Lord had arranged matters in such a way that the monkey-face would be revealed only when necessary and to only a select few. We must remember that it was not the intention of the Lord to hold up Nārada as an object of ridicule before all. His object was to help Nārada by making him aware of his weakness and thus correcting him.
Two kinds of people find faults. The first kind is interested in exposing our mistakes and weaknesses, and making us look small before others. Somehow this gives them great joy and usually also satisfaction of being superior to us. The second kind who finds faults do so in order to help us get rid of our weaknesses. Their object is not to make us appear inferior before others. So they go about their job quietly and intelligently, preserving our dignity and preventing us from embarrassment.
When Nārada entered the hall, everyone there saw only his usual form and greeted him respectfully. Nārada, however, attributed this to the Lord’s beautiful form he thought he was wearing. He went and seated himself proudly in a strategic position.
Immediately after him there entered into the hall two people and they took their seats on either side of Nārada. Who were these two gentlemen? We are told that they were Rudragaṇas, two of Śiva’s attendants. They had been following Nārada from the time he had left Kailāsa after his boastful encounter with Śiva. They had heard his conversation with Śiva and were indignant that the sage had dared to compete with their master and had even subtly suggested that he was greater than Śiva. Which attendant would be happy with such a visitor?
While Śiva himself had not felt humiliated (he was too great and too far above such trifles to be affected by them) and had laughed it off, his attendants were not able to forgive Nārada. They knew that Nārada’s disrespectful behavior was sure to end up in his grief, so they eagerly followed him to watch the fun. They had shadowed him to Vaikuṇṭha, and thence to the golden kingdom where Viśvamohinī was the princess. They had seen him beseech the Lord for a divine form and they had also seen the Lord’s mischief in adorning the sage with a monkey’s face.
Yes, the monkey-form of Nārada was not hidden from the two attendants of Śiva. They were exhilarated to see Nārada, whom they had begun to consider their “enemy,” with a monkey’s face. And now they had come in disguise to the Svayaṁvara ceremony with all eagerness to see the climax of the drama. In the vast gathering there, only these two attendants could see Nārada's monkey-face. And there was one more too who would see it soon.
Viśvamohinī entered the hall, garland in hand and surrounded by her companions. All eyes turned towards her. Hope, anxiety, suspense could be felt tangibly in the air. Viśvamohinī cast a demure glance at the whole assembly. When her eyes fell on Nārada she was so enraged that a semi-beast should participate in the ceremony with the hope of winning her that she not only did not come anywhere near him but also refused to pass by the entire row in which Nārada was seated.
This was a great blow to Nārada. He felt terribly insulted. How strange! Nārada ought to have considered himself fortunate at the turn of events. When māyā refuses to come near you and avoids you, is it a matter over which you rejoice or you worry? Her not coming near Nārada was actually due to the protective care of the Lord. Since she avoided the entire row in which Nārada was seated, even those who were sitting near Nārada were saved from māyā. This shows how holy company helps. Nārada and others in his row were free from the suspense and tension that the other assembled royals were experiencing.
As the princess passed before every prince, he eagerly hoped that the garland she was carrying would soon adorn his neck. When she passed by, the suitor felt dejected and crestfallen. But Nārada had become free from this uncertainty and anxiety. Of course, our hero’s present frame of mind was such that he could not appreciate this way of viewing things. Moreover, he was somewhat confused and puzzled. He could not understand how the princess had even thought of avoiding him, since—adorned as he was with the Lord’s form—he was supposed to be the most beautiful person in the whole assembly. But his eyes soon opened when he saw the unbelievable occur before him in a flash.
The princess passed by everyone present there without garlanding any of them. As she neared the entrance, suddenly Śrī Hari appeared there, in all his splendor and glory. Viśvamohinī’s face lit up with joy. She ran excitedly and put the garland around Śrī Hari’s neck. The gods showered flowers from the heavens and, amidst thunderous cheers, the Lord placed Viśvamohinī beside him on his vehicle Garuḍa, and took off for Vaikuṇṭha.
Nārada was dumbstruck and mad with rage. At once the picture became clear to him. “The Lord has duped me!” Nārada muttered under his breath, vainly striving to suppress his burning fury. He found no words to express his feelings. He turned to the two men who were sitting by his side and became still more furious when he saw them chuckling as if they were enjoying his humiliation to their heart’s content. In a jesting tone they told him. “Ha! Go see yourself in a mirror!”
A mirror is a handy and useful object. It is natural for people to stand before a mirror and examine their appearance especially when they go out and meet others. Everyone does it and there doesn’t seem to be anything wrong with it. But seeing into a mirror on your own is not the same thing as being asked by someone to do so. The former is a natural act, the latter can be an insult.
Nārada could not suppress his anger any more. He peeped into a nearby pond and to his bewilderment saw a monkey staring him in the face. The two attendants of Śiva had had enough. When they saw the sage examining his reflection in the water, they thought it the better part of valor to escape rather than risk the inevitable curse of the enraged sage. As Nārada looked up, he saw the two running away. At once his burning words rang out: “You two! I curse you that you will be born as demons and you will suffer.”
A well-deserved punishment! The behavior of the two attendants of Śiva was deplorable. To be fair, Nārada’s actions were at least prompted by his desire to possess the princess. But the attendants? They had not come to the Svayaṁvara with the desire to marry the princess. All they wanted was to see Nārada's humiliation. They sought happiness in the sorrow and suffering of Nārada.
This is a typical demonic mentality. If Nārada's doings are labeled a weakness, the attendants’ are nothing less than an offense. Weakness can be forgiven, but an offense deserves punishment. By their actions the two had already exhibited their demonic nature. Nārada's curse only made it possible to bring out the demon which was hiding inside them.
It is good that the inner weaknesses hidden in the unconscious mind come out, for only then do they stand some chance of being removed. How long can we go on sweeping dirt under the carpet? A time will come when the beautiful exterior of the carpet won’t fool others and the stink from underneath will find its way outside. It is far better to remove the carpet, take the filth out, and sweep the room clean. By bringing out the demon hidden within the two attendants of Śiva, Nārada really helped them.
Of course, Nārada did not curse them with the idea of “helping” them. His was an impulsive act, done purely out of revenge. It was his way of giving vent to his anger. Don’t forget that this is the same Nārada who was boasting just a little while ago that he had conquered anger! What we see happening now is just the reverse: it is anger that has conquered Nārada.
More is yet to come next time, when this story finally reaches its conclusion.