Seeing Pārvatī Devī’s eagerness, Lord Śiva tells her the story of Ṛṣi Nārada. He first offers salutations to Ṛṣi Nārada for a devotee like him is very rare. This episode is also sometimes referred to as the episode of Nārada’s delusion.
हिमगिरि गुहा एक अति पावनि। बह समीप सुरसरी सुहावनि॥
आश्रम परम पुनीत सुहावा। देखि देवरिषि मन अति भावा॥
निरखि सैल सरि बिपिन बिभागा। भयउ रमापति पद अनुरागा॥
सुमिरत हरिहि श्राप गति बाधी। सहज बिमल मन लागि समाधी॥
मुनि गति देखि सुरेस डेराना। कामहि बोलि कीन्ह सनमाना॥
सहित सहाय जाहु मम हेतू। चलेउ हरषि हियँ जलचरकेतू॥
सुनासीर मन महुँ असि त्रासा। चहत देवरिषि मम पुर बासा॥
जे कामी लोलुप जग माहीं। कुटिल काक इव सबहि डेराही॥ caupāī 124.1-4
Muni Nārada never stayed in one place. During his wanderings across the Himālayas, he once spotted a lovely cave. He also saw a beautiful āśrama located near the river Ganga; there were forests and mountains all around and a lake close by. Seeing all this he felt most blissful. It was not the beauty of nature that captivated him; he was exalted thinking of the Creator of all this beauty. Great love for God flooded his heart. He was, after all, a devotee. In our case, when we see the Ganga, the first thought that arises in our mind is that we should bottle her water and start a business!
When Nārada thought of God, the curse he had received from Dakṣa became ineffective. As one who had been cursed to live a peripatetic life, Nārada was now able to sit down in one place; and he went into samādhī. What this implies is that we, too, must constantly remember God.
Seeing Nāradā’s samādhī, the god, Indra, felt afraid. He suspected that Nāradā aspired to his post. Immediately beckoning Kāmadeva, also known as Madan Kumāra, he sent him to destroy Nāradā’s tapa. The poet points out how individuals who are consumed by desire and greed tend to see others in the same light as themselves; as self-indulgent and devious. They remain insecure fearing the usurpation of their posts.
सूख हाड़ लै भाग सठ स्वान निरखि मृगराज।
छीनि लेइ जनि जान जड़ तिमि सुरपतिहि न लाज॥ dohā 125
Here Indra is compared to a dog chewing on a dry piece of bone. Seeing a lion, the dog fears that its bone may be snatched away. But would a lion ever want to get hold of a dog’s chewed up bone?
Since Indra was the king of gods, Kāmadeva arrived immediately and used his powers to whip up carnal desire all around. Indra felt no shame at the thought of destroying the tapa of the great ṛṣi. Nārada’s mind, however, was not swayed in the least because the Lord protected it. Therefore, Ṛṣi Nārada was neither distracted nor tempted. He did not even feel any anger. That is the power of Divine Grace.
There are some ascetics who are successful in conquering lust but are unable to master anger. Ṛṣi Nārada had conquered both lust and anger, and this news was conveyed by Kāmadeva to the denizens of heaven (svarga loka). Great praise began to be heaped on Nārada and news of it finally reached him as well.
This story merits careful attention. Besides being amusing, it offers much by way of wisdom. While Nārada’s mind was immersed in God he was not perturbed by lust or anger. But, when he heard his own praise, his mind turned away from God. He felt proud at the thought of having conquered lust and anger. When the mind turns away from the Divine, pride is born. The nature of pride is to show off and to trumpet one’s own achievements.
Ṛṣi Nārada first went to Lord Brahmā, his father (he was Brahmā’s mind-born son). There he began to boast. Lord Brahmā, however, said nothing and his refusal to respond was itself a silent teaching. In fact, he was shocked to hear a devotee speak in such a manner. A devotee should, instead, say that everything happens by the Grace of God.
Next Nārada went to Lord Śiva who was his well-wisher. Lord Śiva heard what he had to say and then requested Nārada to refrain from going around repeating what he had just said. Above all, he was not to go and repeat this to Lord Viṣṇu. Nārada promised not to do so but asked what he should do in case the topic came up on its own. He was advised by Lord Śiva to remain silent.
संभु दीन्ह उपदेस हित नहिं नारदहि सोहान।
भरद्वाज कौतुक सुनहु हरि इच्छा बलवान॥ dohā 127
Ṛṣi Yājñavalkya is narrating this story to Muni Bharadvāja. He describes how, even though Lord Śiva offered such good advice, Nārada did not appreciate it. However, says Yājñavalkya, Lord Hari’s Will always prevails.
Nārada went his way strumming his veeṇā and chanting “Nārāyaṇa-Nārāyaṇa.” Seeing him, Lord Viṣṇu enquired where he had been since so many days. He also remarked that he felt very fortunate to have Nārada’s darśana that day. Nārada, who had been waiting to be asked where he had been, replied that he had gone to the Himalayas; there he had gone into samādhī. Madan Kumāra had arrived but had not been able to influence his mind.
Nārada’s response greatly displeased Lord Viṣṇu. Although, the Lord spoke sweet words, His expression clearly reflected His displeasure. But Nārada did not even look in His direction. His wandering eyes were busy taking in all who were present and who all would have heard his words. Lord Viṣṇu sarcastically said that it was hardly surprising that he did not get deluded for, by remembering the name of Nārada, people were freed from delusion. How, then, could Nārada himself be deluded?
Now, would a devotee ever listen to such words from the Lord? It is only by remembering the Divine that the vāsanā of lust is dispelled. The Lord, who is an ocean of compassion, recognized that pride had arisen in the heart of His devotee. The seed of arrogance had begun to sprout, and it was His job to destroy it before it grew into a huge tree. There is a prayer by Sant Nāmadeva Maharaj where he appeals for the Lord’s devotee to be ever protected from the taint of pride–ahaṅkārācā vārā na lago rājasā.
The Lord was clearly concerned about His devotee having become so proud. Nārada, on his part, was delighted at the words of Lord Viṣṇu and thought that He was the only One who understood him. While outwardly he spoke of the Lord’s Grace, within he was full of pride. Lord Viṣṇu thought that, at this juncture, Nārada would not be receptive to some straightforward advice (people sometimes take offence at the expression of a frank opinion) and felt that it would be necessary to create a līlā, some illusory situation, to rid Nārada of his pride.
When Nārada stepped out from his meeting with Lord Viṣṇu he beheld a great city. There was a festive air all around, and everything looked even more magnificent than Vaikuṇṭhapuri, the Lord’s abode. Nārada was very curious by nature. He wondered how, while going to Vaikuṇṭhapuri, he had not noticed this city. So, he began to make enquiries about what it was all about. People informed him that King Śīlanidhi was the sovereign and that he had organized a svayamvara for his exceptionally beautiful daughter, Viśvamohinī.
A svayamvara was a festive occasion to which many kings were invited. The prospective bride, holding a garland in her hands, would walk amongst them and select one of them as her husband. Every king or prince would have an entourage that would sing his praises and glories. A wonderful description of such an event is given by Kālidāsa in his play Raghuvaṁśa.
Nārada met King Śīlanidhi and was welcomed by him. All this was the māyā of the Lord. Śīlanidhi explained how he had a daughter and that she was to be married. He asked Nārada, whom he referred as the one who knew the past, present, and future, as the “all-knowing”, whether he could tell what was written in her fate.
Nārada beheld Viśvamohinī and was dumbstruck. Instantly he said that whoever she married would be the lord of the three worlds. What he should have said, instead, was that the Lord of the three worlds would be her husband. But Nārada said the opposite, so overcome was he with the desire to marry Viśvamohinī. He forgot how he had only recently been around boasting of his victory over Kāmadeva. The Bhagavad Gīta describes how by thinking of something constantly, desire is born–dhyāyato viṣayānpuṁsaḥ saṅgasteṣūpajāyate, saṅgātsañjāyate kāmaḥ (2.62).
Nārada knew all that would be required for him to be able to marry Viśvamohinī. There is a śloka in Sanskrit that describes how, for a prospective bride, a good-looking groom is important. The girl’s mother is concerned about his financial status. The father looks at whether he is educated or not. The relatives focus on whether the home and family are good. The rest are only interested in food and drink and whether the party will be fun.
Nārada realized that it was unlikely that the bride would choose him given his appearance; therefore, he desired to become handsome there and then. He thought that he would ask Lord Viṣṇu for beauty; and his mind turned to the Lord only because he wanted to become handsome so that he could marry the young girl! How his mind had drifted away! For one who reveled in devotion how had his mind become filled with thoughts such as these?
Nārada realized that there was not enough time to go to Vaikuṇṭha for, by the time he returned, the svayamvara would be over. He felt distraught. But the Lord is both playful and compassionate (kautukī kṛpālā). The term ‘kautukī’ signifies ‘one who does līlā’; but the Lord is, at the same time, compassionate as well. As soon as Nārada invoked Him, He manifested before him and asked where he was going and what the matter was. Nārada explained that there was a king called Śīlanidhi who had a very beautiful daughter who was to be married; and Nārada asked to be made as resplendent as the Lord.
Would any devotee ever ask for such a boon? The Lord laughed and praised His māyā. She had completely deluded even Ṛṣi Nārada. The Lord then explained how sometimes a sick person asks the doctor for a medicine that is, in fact, not good for him. But the doctor does what is beneficial for the patient. In the same way the Lord decided to do what would be good for Ṛṣi Nārada.
Nārada’s mind was so deluded that he did not grasp the significance of this allegory; he did not realize that the Lord had indirectly told him that his desire would not be fulfilled. Instead, Nārada believed that he had been granted the requested boon. When one is deluded, one is unable to grasp anything correctly. He then hastened to the place where all the kings and princes were seated and took his seat.
In Sanskrit the term ‘hari’ has several meanings. It is a name of the Lord, signifying ‘One who removes sorrow and ignorance’. It also means ‘One who steals’. If one goes with a banana or anything else in hand to a temple where there are monkeys, they quickly snatch what you are holding and run away. Thus, the term also signifies a monkey. The lion, too, is referred to as ‘hari’, because it carries off its prey.
Nārada sat down with the firm conviction that as soon as the princess set eyes on him, she would place the garland around his neck. Viśvamohinī slowly moved forward, rejecting, one-by-one, many in the process. Nārada kept getting up, straining to see whether she was coming towards him or not. What he did not realize was that the Lord had given him the face of a monkey, but being very compassionate, He had ensured that the others present saw Nārada as he normally appeared. Only the princess saw the face of a monkey. Seeing that, she hastily turned away and avoided that row of seats altogether. The poor princes seated there wondered what had happened and why she had avoided their row.
Some commentators offer a wonderful explanation of this passage: They say that the row avoided by the princess was where all the devotees were seated. Even though Nārada at that point was deluded, he was, nevertheless, a devotee of the Lord. And when a devotee is present, the people around him also remain free from the influence of māyā. What a marvelous statement! Of course, at that moment Nārada was deluded but it was a temporary state.
At the time of the svayamvara, two of Lord Rudra’s gaṇas were also present and they were able to see Nārada’s monkey face. They could not help laughing. Moreover, both had a sense of humour: one exclaimed how handsome Nārada was and how the princess would certainly choose him. Now Nārada was, as it is, ill at ease. At that very moment, the Lord, assuming the form of a king, appeared. Obviously, the Lord’s māyā would be drawn to Him alone. So, the princess, who was, in fact, none other than the māyā of the Lord, approached Him and garlanded Him. Taking her with Him, the Lord walked away. The svayamvara was over!
When a person is fully convinced that he is about to get something and then it is snatched away by someone else before his eyes, he is bound to be completely nonplussed. When Nārada realized that the Lord Himself had come and led away the princess one can imagine what must have gone through his mind. The gaṇas of Śiva were also strange; they kept egging him on, urging him to have a look at his face. Nārada saw his reflection and discovered his monkey face! He felt that the Lord had made a fool of him. A little later, when he looked again, his image was back to normal.
Seething with anger against the Lord, he was wondering what to do when the Lord appeared before him. Lakṣmī Devī was with Him and so was Viśvamohinī. The Lord enquired where Nārada was headed to in such a distraught state. And what was Nārada’s reply?
सुनत बचन उपजा अति क्रोधा, माया बस न रहा मन बोधा॥
पर संपदा सकहु नहिं देखी। तुम्हरें इरिषा कपट बिसेषी॥
मथत सिंधु रुद्रहि बौरायहु। सुरन्ह प्रेरि बिष पान करायहु॥ caupāī 135.3,4
असुर सुरा बिष संकरहि आपु रमा मनि चारु।
स्वारथ साधक कुटिल तुम्ह सदा कपट ब्यवहारु॥ dohā 136
Consumed with rage, Nārada lamented his mistake in trusting the Lord; he should have known better considering His earlier record. He accused the Lord of being unable to bear the sight of another’s prosperity, of being envious and a hypocrite. Recalling the episode of the churning of the ocean of milk, Nārada scathingly pointed out, how, when the poison had surfaced, the Lord had made Śiva swallow it; when the wine appeared, He offered it to the asuras, but when Lakṣmī Devī and the Kaustubha gem arose from the waters, He appropriated both and departed from the scene. Nārada denounced the Lord as being selfish and devious.
The Bhagavad Gītā describes how a man in the grip of anger loses all sense of discrimination; he ends up saying all kinds of things to his mother, father, Guru, and God. Nārada, thus, continued his tirade against the Lord, complaining that just because there was none superior to Him and because He was completely independent of everyone, He did whatever came to His mind. When it suited Him, He transformed the noble individual into a wicked one and the ignoble one into a good person. And, after doing all that, He would stand there and look most innocent. How many times He had deceived people in this manner. And, of course, He had no reason to be afraid, for no auspicious or inauspicious action affected Him since He was the giver of the fruits of action. Until that moment He had not come across anyone who would oppose Him, but now Nārada was there to do just that. Nārada declared that the Lord would certainly have to bear the consequence for what He had done to him.
Nārada had become a self-appointed bestower of the fruits of action. The Lord asked him to spell out what that fruit would be. So Nārada declared that, since the Lord had appeared on earth in the form of a king simply to deceive him, He would now have to set aside His divine grandeur and live on earth as a king. Further, since He had given him the face of a monkey, He Himself would have to turn to monkeys for assistance. How shameful, continued Närada, for Īśvara to devolve into a man and to have to take assistance from monkeys! Since He had done Nārada a grave disservice, deceiving him and preventing him from uniting with a woman, He, too, would have to suffer the pangs of separation from His wife.
Lord Viṣṇu smiled and said that He accepted everything that Nārada had expressed. He then withdrew His māyā. When the effect of māyā was gone, Nārada saw that there was neither Lakṣmī nor the princess present. Suddenly free from the delusory effect of māyā, Nārada threw himself at the feet of the Lord seeking refuge in Him, beseeching Him for protection. He was overcome with remorse at the thought of having cursed the Lord in his ignorant state; what had overcome his mind, he wondered. He sought to nullify his curse. The Lord, however, Who is ever loving and kind to the fallen, did not accuse His devotee of arrogance. He simply took the responsibility upon Himself and declared that all that had happened had been His will.
Nārada was now most repentant for having uttered such offensive words and wanted to know how he could atone for the sin thus incurred. Lord Viṣnu suggested that he do the japa of Lord Śaṅkara, because Nārada had surely offended him by ignoring his advice. He did not suggest His own japa. Lord Viṣnu emphasized how there was none as dear to him as Lord Śiva and advised Nārada to remain steadfast in that belief. Without the Grace of Lord Śiva, He emphasized, devotion for Himself could never be attained. Therefore, the Lord advised Nārada to meditate on Lord Śiva and constantly remember him. Then, assuring Nārada that he would never again be troubled by His māyā, the Lord sent him on his way.
We might sometimes wonder why poor Nārada was prevented from getting married if that was what he so desired. Well, remember, the only goal of a true devotee is to have devotion for the Lord, to speak of that devotion and to awaken that devotion in the hearts of others. If such a person comes under the sway of māyā and starts doing something contrary, it is not good for him.
There is nothing wrong in leading a householder’s life (gṛhastha āśrama); that is why Śrī Rāma had wanted Lord Śiva to get married. It was for the wellbeing of all, and we have seen that episode earlier. Yet, that same Lord prevented Nārada from marrying because the latter did not have that saṁskāra (inherent orientation); it was not the purpose of his life. More significant, Ādi Śakti can belong to the Supreme Lord alone. She is the Universal Mother, how can one desire her as a wife? That would be completely wrong. That is why the Lord saved Nārada from such a situation. Nārada then went his way, and the Lord disappeared.
The Rudra gaṇas followed Nārada as he walked away because, while under the sway of māyā, he had cursed them to instantly transform into rākṣasas for laughing at him. Making fun of others and mocking them are, after all, the qualities of a rākṣasa. The poor Rudra gaṇas were very alarmed. They, too, wanted Nārada to calm down and to nullify his curse. Nārada, however, no longer felt any anger towards them. He informed them that, since he had already cursed them, they would have to become rākṣasas but that they would be so powerful that no one would be able to conquer them. Their death, too, would not be at the hands of anyone and that the Supreme Lord Himself would have to come to accomplish that.
These Rudra gaṇas later became Rāvaṇa and Kumbhakarṇa. As a result of Nārada’s curse the Lord took birth as Śrī Rāma, became a king, took the help of monkeys, and suffered separation from Sītā Devī. This was the reason for the Supreme Lord to take avatāra in one specific kalpa.
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