EIGHT
Arjuna walked slowly and the first hour of his journey was a sad one. In his mind, he saw his brothers downcast and he heard Draupadi crying. But after a while, he was truly on his way and his thoughts turned ahead of him. He wanted to test the pratismriti, which was an occult yogic siddhi. He summoned it and asked it to help him on his quest.
At first, nothing extraordinary seemed to happen and for a while, Arjuna thought the siddhi did not work. Then, with a rush of excitement, he realized he was travelling at several times his ordinary speed, as if he slipped in and out of many worlds. For there, already before him, he saw an incredible sight: in a short, magic hour, he had arrived at the foot of Gandhamadana, the fragrant mountain and gatekeeper to the heavens! This was normally a journey of weeks.
The scents of the wild herbs that grew on Gandhamadana and gave it its name, wafted down to Arjuna. He felt the mountain greeted him like an old friend. Arjuna folded his hands to the unmoving one and then, effortlessly, in no time, he crossed Gandhamadana as well and saw ahead of him Himavan, loftiest of ranges, guardian of the sacred realms. Arjuna lay on his face in the snow and worshipped the mountain-king, the Goddess Parvati's terrestrial father.
On he pressed, through white, breathtaking terrain, through endless snow-drifts, across pristine icescapes where wonderful beings lived—kinnaras and kimpurushas, siddhas, charanas and gandharvas—until he saw a solitary peak before him, thrusting at the sky in splendid isolation: a mountain apart. It had an aura of being rarer, finer than the others; it was a spiritual mountain, more so than all the rest. Arjuna had never come this far north before. But he knew the name of the massif before him: it was the Indrakila.
A premonition of fortune dawning on him, the Pandava climbed that mountain along a rough trail he found. He still traveled magically, though his destination was only the middle heights and a suitable place to sit in tapasya. Soon, he saw an ideal-looking cave; but an old rishi, attenuated and bright-bodied, already sat meditating at its mouth.
The sage seemed astonished to see Arjuna. He said, "A strange thing indeed! Who are you, Kshatriya, who climb the Indrakila with a bow and a sword? They are exceptional weapons, surely, but there is no conflict in this place. There never has been and never shall be." The old one squinted at him. "Rare, indeed, are those who find their way to this mountain. Those who come here do not subdue others with weapons, but only themselves with wisdom!"
He paused, scrutinizing the Pandava. His deep eyes twinkled, belying his words: for some reason, the old hermit was overjoyed to see Arjuna. He went on, "This is no place for kshatriyas, but for brahmanas who have left every passion, every vestige of violence, behind them. Never in all time, not since the earth was made, has a battle been fought here. Kshatriya, I cannot imagine how, but you have also arrived in this blessed place. Lay down your weapons now and seek Devaloka for yourself. For the kingdom of the Gods is close to Indrakila!"
Though he folded his hands reverently to the holy one, Arjuna did not put down his weapons. The shining sannyasi cried, "Ha! You doubt what I say. I do wonder how you found your way here. Didn't you hear me, young man? Cast your weapons down the mountain, you will have no further use for them."
Arjuna stood before the rishi and made no move to disarm. The hermit's heavy brows bristled in anger, but Arjuna fancied his eyes still twinkled merrily. Uncoiling from padmasana, the rishi sprang to his feet. "Why don't you listen to me, young fool? Don't you know who I am? I command you, throw your weapons down the mountain! You will never have need of them again."
Arjuna stood his ground. He shook his head, refusing to do what the sage asked. The next moment, the muni stood transformed before the Pandava: his body a flame, clothed in unearthly raiment, wearing ornaments wrought in Devaloka and a glorious crown on his head. Arjuna cried out. He knelt before that stern and brilliant God, his father Indra.
The Deva blessed his son. He asked, "Tell me, bane of your enemies, what boon do you want from me?"
The Pandava told him about Vyasa's visit and his gift of the pratismriti.
"Lord, I want the devastras from you."
Indra laughed. "Astras! Do you know where you are? Do you know how near heaven you are? Arjuna, a man who sees me face to face can ask for much more than astras. You can ask for a life of bliss in Devaloka. What do you want with weapons any more?"
Arjuna said, "I have not come seeking the joys of heaven. My brothers and Draupadi wait for me in the forest and I have come for just one thing: your astras. My mind is full of the war and revenge. In the Khandava vana, you said you would give me your weapons when the time came. My Lord, the time has come. You must help me, or we shall never vanquish our enemies."
Indra said gently, "You are devoted to your purpose and I will give you all the astras I have. Yet, as I told you in the Khandava vana, you must first seek Lord Siva and get his Paasupata from him. For, one of your enemies only Siva's astra can kill.
This is an ideal place for you to sit in tapasya. Worship Siva, my son and when he gives you his own ayudha, I will see you again."
Indra vanished, leaving Arjuna alone. The Pandava set himself down at the cave-mouth where he had found the macilent rishi. Crossing his legs, he shut his eyes and began to chant the Kotirudra, Siva's thousand names.
"Siva, Sankara, Sarva, Bhava, Mahesvara, Isana, Rudra, Mahadeva, Pasupati, Sambhu, Lokanatha…" chanted Arjuna, quickly becoming absorbed. Thus he sat, for a long time, on Indrakila. Then, he grew restless. He felt this was not really the place for him to meditate. He knew Indra always tested a tapasvin, often by misleading him. The Pandava climbed down the Indrakila again and returned to the forested foothills of the Himalaya. He went on to sacred Mandara.
Donning valkala and the skin of a black antelope, Arjuna found a fine aswattha tree to sit under and began his tapasya once more. During the first month, he ate just once in three days and then only roots and leaves. During the second month, when his dhyana grew more intense, he ate only once in six days and just dry leaves. In the third month, he ate once a fortnight. At last, from the fourth month on, Arjuna did not eat at all any more, but was absorbed in Siva's mantra of five syllables, flowing like his very breath.
"Namah Sivayah," he chanted, silently, interminably, "Namah Sivayah, Namah Sivayah, Namah Sivayah…"
Soon, when he found it too easy to meditate in padmasana, he got up and stood on his toes, with his arms raised to the sky. The devarishis, the vigilant guardians of heaven and earth, saw Arjuna at his penance. Even when the Pandava began his worship, they remarked that in this darkening age such a tapasya was rare and difficult. If the tapasvin's resolve did not break, his worship would compel the God he invoked to grant whatever he wanted.
As Arjuna's tapasya continued, the rishis were hopeful the kshatriya's will would not bear the privation he imposed on himself. But Arjuna showed no sign of weakening. When his dhyana began to affect the natural environs around him, the devarishis grew anxious. Seeing the Pandava worshipped Siva, they came to Kailasa to meet the Mahayogin, the original ascetic.
Siva said, smiling, "Munis, to what do I owe this privilege? Not one or two, but all of you have come to me together. Surely, something extraordinary brings you to Kailasa."
One of the rishis said, "We are alarmed by Arjuna's tapasya."
Another put in, "We can hardly believe it in these dark times. It seems you will have to grant him any boon he wants."
A third said, "We do not know what Arjuna is praying for; but we dread to think what it may be. He could ask you for the throne of Devaloka and you would have to give it to him."
The first muni said, "Lord, you must stop Arjuna."
Siva laughed. "Rishis, your anxiety is for nothing. Arjuna is a man of dharma; he does not want heaven, wealth, or even moksha. I know what he wants and I mean to give it to him. It is in a just cause he asks for his boon. Indeed, when you came I was about to go myself to test this tapasvin. Go back in peace, you have nothing to fear."
Bowing to Siva and curious to discover what Arjuna the Pandava prayed so fervently for, the rishis returned where they had come from.