TEN
For a long moment, Arjuna stood numb with rapture. His mind cried, "Siva appeared before me. We fought! Then he blessed me, he laid his hand on this head of mine."
He felt his head with his fingers. Arjuna exulted, "I have seen the God of Gods with my eyes, he gave me his own astra."
Then, he said, "I must prove worthy of Siva's trust. I must never misuse the Paasupata."
It was at that moment Arjuna heard the first strains of unearthly music. Once more, the mountain Mandara shone supernaturally. Those that came there now did not cloak their splendor; and their bodies were pristine lights.
Arjuna thought he must have fallen into a dream when, suddenly, he heard an ocean roaring on the mountain, the wash of waves. It was no dream: the sound of waves heralded the coming of a God. Varuna walked down from the sky and the luculence of the Lord of oceans lit up the mountain, his hue of lapis lazuli. Seaweed was his hair and he wore a crown with a pearl as big as a man's head set in it. The river-goddesses, the daityas and sadhyas who are aquatic, sinuous mermaids and mermen, sirens, sea serpents, all came with Varuna.
A chariot flashed down out of the sky: a vimana swift as thoughts, silent as petals. In it rode Kubera, Lord of treasures and his skin was like molten gold: the hue of the Jambu river. Around Kubera were the fierce and strange yakshas, whose master he is.
In another vimana, faceted like a diamond, came Surya's son Yama, the Lord of death, who takes all the living; and he was terrible to behold. In his hand, he held his inexorable danda, the staff of retribution. And he came surrounded by the spirits of the dead, the manes.
At last, not in a vimana, but mounted on a white, four-tusked elephant, Airavata who trod air, came the king of the Devas: resplendent Indra, his queen Sachi beside him, lovely as heaven. The other Devas, all glorious Lords of light, flew behind Indra in their flitting vimanas: Agni, Vayu, Dharma and the rest.
Varuna, Kubera, Yama and Indra were the rulers of the quarters: west, north, south and east. Arjuna was numb with awe.
Yama stepped forward, his dark hand raised in blessing. He said in a voice deep as the sky, "We are the Lokapalas, the guardians of the directions and we bring you gifts. I am Yama."
This exceeded Arjuna's wildest hopes; he stood enchanted.
Yama went on, gravely, "You were Nara in your last life, Mahatman; and all the universe rested in you, because Narayana was with you. But you have forgotten and it is Brahma's will that you forget: so you can accomplish your mission in this life.
You must kill Bheeshma, who is a Vasu and Drona and my father's son. A hundred Nivatakavachas have been born as Dhritarashtra's princes, to be the terrors of the earth. Them you must kill and first their brothers in Devaloka. You are wise to come seeking the astras of heaven to fight such enemies."
Yama came forward and Arjuna knelt at his feet. The Deva of death proffered the danda, his blazing staff and Pandu's son received it. Yama whispered the mantra for the danda and when Arjuna repeated it, the weapon was his to command. Yama blessed Arjuna and stepped back from the kneeling kshatriya.
From the west, Varuna came toward Arjuna and his pale lambency enfolded the Pandava. In a voice in which dim waves echoed, the Lord of the sea said, "I, Varuna, rule the west. I am the master of the ocean and the rivers."
In bright hands, their fingers elegant as wavelets, the Deva held out a mysterious noose to Arjuna. It lay there, a thing alive, made of water, froth and light. It was barely substantial; it was so subtle, so exquisite. Arjuna knew this was the fabled paasa of the Sea God, a primeval weapon as powerful as Yama's danda.
Varuna said, "Take my paasa. I killed a thousand asuras with it during the war against Taraka, which we fought for Karttikeya in ancient times."
Arjuna received the shimmering, umbilical astra and Varuna whispered its mantra to him. The fluid noose vanished from sight; but it was with Arjuna from then. Varuna said, "Not Yama could escape my noose of tides if you sent it after him."
Kubera came forward. He was the striking Lord of treasures, Siva's friend. It was for his sake that Siva first came as Rudra to the world. Kubera lives in Alaka, which is next to Kailasa. He came to Arjuna, kneeling with folded hands.
The jewels Kubera wore on his dark body shone hardly less than his satin skin. In a voice full of mountain winds, whistling through gorges whose icy sides are sheer as mirrors, the Lord of the yakshas and guhyakas said, "I am Kubera, master of treasures. I rule the north. I, too, have a weapon for you, Partha. But first, let me bless you that you and your brothers will have all the wealth of this world, after you win the war. Here, take my antardhana."
Kubera held out a weapon of fire to Arjuna and it was as if a sun-flare was trapped inside it. Kubera said, "I burned a million asuras with my antardhana, when my Lord Siva once destroyed the Tripura. Now you burn Duryodhana's evil legions with it!"
He taught Arjuna its mantra and that astra, also, melted into the Pandava's body. Arjuna fell on his face and cried, "Lords of the worlds, if you will sit in this wild place, I would serve you, my masters: with fruit and flowers, which are all I have to offer."
The Devas seemed glad to sit on the ground and Arjuna brought them fruit, sweet berries and water from the nearby stream of the Ganga. And they were pleased by his devotion.
Indra said to Arjuna, "I am proud of you, my son. No mortal man of this yuga has received the astras from the Devas' own hands. And for that, the weapons shall be twice as powerful with you. But you must come to Devaloka with me now. There is something I want you to do there and there I will give you my astras."
Arjuna bowed acquiescence, though he was a little frightened by the Lokapalas. Indra said, "My sarathy Matali will bring my vimana for you."
One by one, the Guardians blessed Arjuna and vanished like echoing whispers from the mountain, leaving the Pandava alone and dazed. He felt as if his body had turned to water and his heart was a sea of visions. A glint of light higher up the mountain caught his eye. He saw an incredible ship of the sky, a disk even more dazzling than those that had just left him. Softly as flowers, it flew down to the ground.
Wonderful lights flashed on the vimana's smooth body. As Arjuna rose and approached the craft, a door open at its side and a flight of steps flowed out from it. A small bright being came smiling down those steps. He came right up to the Pandava and embraced him warmly.
"I am Matali!" cried that extraordinary one. "I have come to fetch you to Indra's kingdom."
Arjuna murmured, "I am going to Devaloka without performing any yagna, or even dying. Matali, I must purify myself before I enter your vimana; for your craft is a high way of dharma."
Matali said he would wait for Arjuna, while the Pandava bathed. Arjuna waded into the icy Ganga and standing in the swirling flow, offered his usual worship. He offered holy water to his ancestors, turned his face to the mountain-king Mandara and prayed to that unmoving guru.
"Mandara, refuge of rishis, guardian of the earth, by whose grace men achieve their ambitions! I have been so happy in your sanctuary. Like a child in his mother's lap, I had succor from you. I prostrate myself before you, bless me again. I fear the destiny that calls me and have dire need of your serenity."
Arjuna came out from the river and prostrated himself. He felt a shiver in the earth under him: the mountain acknowledged his worship. A fresh breeze stirred in the trees as if mighty Mandara sighed that the Pandava must leave his slopes now. Arjuna bowed to the grove where Siva had appeared to him and, his eyes moist, he turned back to Matali and Indra's vimana.
Matali said gently, "Shall we go now?"
"You go first, Matali. I am not worthy of going before you into this ship."
Matali mounted the stairway. Bravely, Arjuna climbed after the sarathy. But no degree of courage, none of his long wanderings on earth, not his months of tapasya, nothing at all could have prepared him for what he saw within that supernal skycraft.
It was another world! The light inside the vimana was not of the sun, the moon or fire, but of another order. It just was, of itself, with no source from which it issued. It was everywhere, containing everything. 'The light of time,' thought Arjuna, for no reason he could name.
Matali showed him where to sit, saying, "We will fly in a moment and we shall go swiftly. But there is nothing to fear, enjoy what you see."
The sarathy laid his fingers on some glowing panels before him. A window slipped open, all around Arjuna, so he had an uninterrupted view.
"Are you ready?"
Excited and eager to be off now, Arjuna nodded. The sarathy passed his hands over the panels, not actually touching any of them this time. The vimana shuddered and suddenly Arjuna found himself not in a disk full of unearthly light, but in a white chariot. Matali held golden reins in his hands and they yoked five green horses whose skins shone like moonlight!1
Then they flashed up steeply into the sky and in a moment were high above Indrakila and the earth, among the clouds.
"Look how the world seems from here, Arjuna."
Far below him, Arjuna saw the earth dwindle into a blue-green ball and the loftiest mountain ranges were so small he could hold Mandara and Himavan in the palm of his hand. Already, Matali was pointing up and ahead of them.
"Look."
The sky was no longer a pastel blue. It began to swim with fluorescent colors: purple, violet and mauve and Arjuna realized dimly that the speed at which they flew had something to do with the
1. In Ganguli's book, the chariot is described in detail, with great nagas upon its body, as well as masses of white jewels. It is drawn by 'tens of thousands of golden horses'.
spectral hues that appeared around them. The chariot flashed on quicker than ever and the colors around them grew blinding. Then Arjuna gave a cry, because the sky parted before them like a sea for a prophet! And it seemed a veil had been drawn away from the face of another, grander universe.
Matali laughed softly beside him and Arjuna was speechless. He wondered if he was dying. They flashed through the cleavage in the sky and left the dimension of the earth behind them. They were in Devaloka, in what men call heaven.
"My Lord Indra's domain," murmured the sarathy.
A child's delighted smile spread across Arjuna's face. Somehow, the Pandava did not feel this new realm was unfamiliar. He even thought he had been here before, though he could not remember when or how. It was like a fabulous homecoming.
But this world was beautiful beyond description and, most of all, it was made of light. The light inside the vimana was now everywhere. It was always both day and night in Devaloka, bright and dark, dawn and twilight. Arjuna knew that here the spirit dominated everything else. The pervasive light was spiritual and he saw the stars in the sky of Devaloka were great souls, who flamed on and on with infinite fire.
Devaloka was lit by tapasya; even Matali's chariot flew on faith and little else. Reality here was another thing, a different law from on the earth below. The Pandava felt, queerly, that he was on the 'inside' of the universe and a little nearer its still center.
They flew along incandescent skyways, where countless other vimanas, like their own but none quite as big, flitted by, bearing all sorts of celestial folk. Elven gandharvas, Kubera's guhyakas, siddhas, charanas and kinnaras they saw and apsaras in golden craft; many were flashing disks and others long, arrow-like ships of the air. Then the Pandava saw some even more incredible voyagers. These had no vimana of any kind, but flew themselves and some waved in welcome: the rishis of heaven!
Who can describe Devaloka in any tongue of men? Or the glory of Indra's city, Amravati, whose streets are paved with prayers and slabs of unworldly jewels? And the folk of every immortal race who walk those streets: who can convey their beauty or majesty in words?
Trees whose leaves were full of subtle song lined Indra's brilliant streets: pristine kalpa-vrikshas, the ancestors of all earthly trees. They were alive and definitely spoke, in an intimate tongue of being and silence.
They flew over great mansions, thousands of them, each one far more magnificent than the finest palaces of the earth. Their walls were made of Devaloka's gold and silver and set with gemstones cooled from distant stars. Looking at them, Arjuna saw visions of places and times beyond imagination.
When the Pandava happened to glance at his own hands, he saw that he, also, shone strangely here! And he felt weightless, as if he wasn't made of flesh and blood, any more, but only the light of this place, always shifting, yet full of an unchanging peace.
Matali pointed ahead, "Look, Arjuna, your father's palace."
At the heart of Amravati, stood a crystal palace, low, outflung and set in a garden such as Arjuna had seen only in his dreams.