The Marriage of Shiva and Parvathy

Since the first yatra call in April I too, have been inspired to immerse in the Shiva Purana, in a modern English rendering by Ramesh Menon. There I found a series of tales – colorful, wild, startling -- that featured not only wise and holy munis but righteous asuras, pious harlots, gods who practiced trickery and gave in to temptation, and kings who abandoned their kingdoms to do tapasya. And, of course, I found Siva and Parvathy. Below I share some excerpts related to their reunion.

But you must know, O yatris of Kailash and Manasarovar, that before their reunion can come to pass, many trials and tribulations must surely occur! Young Parvathy knows very well who she is and what she is there to do, and at first everything happens auspiciously: Siva, secretly curious about the girl said to be the reincarnation of his beloved Sati, comes to meditate near her father’s palace. While he is there, Parvathy is able to worship and attend to him when he is immersed in dhyana. But when Kaama appears, piercing Siva with his arrow of desire, Siva’s anger blazes: he burns Kaama to ashes and storms away, perhaps never to be seen again. Parvathy is bereft, O pilgrims, and returns in despair to her father’s palace. But then, in her hour of despair, Narada Muni arrives. He tells her the only way to accomplish her goal, and once again become Siva’s wife, is by doing tapasya herself: and he gives her the holy mantra of five syllables. She returns to the spot where she last saw her ishta devata and proceeds with a penance so powerful it gets the attention of all the devas, including Siva, who narrates the following section himself. 

She swept the ground as she used to; she built her own altar in that place. Around the shrine she planted sacred trees, shrubs and flowering plants and made a proper ashrama of it. Then, what a tapasya she began. In summer, she built a fire around herself and sat at its heart. In the monsoon, she sat exposed to lashing torrents of rain and hail. In winter, she dug a ditch and filled it with freezing water, which often turned to ice. In this she sat, chanting Namah Sivaya under her breath without a moment’s break, day and night, ignoring snowfall and blizzard. She focused her mind on me, so I felt every moment of her worship, in thrall. She ate only fruit the first year of her Tapasya, only leaves during the second and finally she ate nothing at all: she sustained herself just on my mantra. When she stopped eating, the devas, who watched her worship fondly and in hope, called her Aparna, the unequalled one. Uma stood on one leg for three thousand years, motionless, with her face turned to the sky. Her hair grew wild and matted. The thought came to her one day, “Isn’t Siva aware of my tapasya? Why doesn’t he come to me?" Her time had not come.Then her family members arrive. Himachala came to the tapovana with Mena and Uma’s brothers. Shocked when he saw her, her father cried, “Don’t torture yourself anymore, no one is worth this. Precious child, you cannot catch the moon in the sky. How will he who burnt the god of love to ashes, ever come in love to you?” Mena wept when she saw the state in which her daughter was. Her brothers were dismayed: Uma’s inhuman tapasya seemed to be in vain. With a wan smile, which broke their hearts, she said quietly to them, “I will fetch him to me in this very place from where he went. I will bring him back with my bhakti.”

Siva himself is impressed, but he resolves to test her nevertheless. Even I, who am always a yogin, marveled at her tapasya. It was so passionate, immaculate, that I was distracted from my own dhyana. How can any God ignore such worship? And now, though our time had come, I must, as Vishnu observed, proceed cautiously. I thought of the Saptarishis and Marichi, Atri, Agniras, Pulastya, Pulaha, Kratu and Vashishta stood beaming before me that I had summoned them.  “Lord of Gods, ocean of mercy, we are blessed that you thought of us. Command us, we are your slaves.” I laughed, I fear, as I often do at their earnestness. More kindly, I said, “O perfectly wise ones, my benefactors all! Parvathy sits in tapasya at Gauri Shikahara to make me her husband. Go and test her resolve, use all your considerable wit.” 

They went to where Uma stood motionless, her dhyana streaming from her like flares from a sun. When they came near, she welcomed them serenely. Vasishta said, “Parvathy, for what is your tapasya?”Uma smiled bashfully and replied, “Rishis, you will laugh if I tell you.”They insisted. “You must tell us.” She said, “At Narada’s bidding, I am chanting Shiva’s name so he will become my husband.”The rishis laughed raucously. Kratu said, “Your Tapasya is at Narada’s bidding? Don’t you know he is a prankster? Haven’t you heard how he became an eternal wanderer? Daksha cursed Narada when he sent his brother’s sons to discover the ends of the universe. An enterprise not unlike your own! I can understand a tapasya to win anyone else for a husband. But Siva! The yogin has no feelings. He is filthy, shameless and naked, of no pedigree, ugly and surrounded by ghouls and goblins. What a dreadful bridegroom he would make a beautiful child like you. Ah, Parvathy, Narada has cheated you.” Atri chimed in, “Even if Siva were to marry you, don’t you know what happened to Sati? He abandoned her in a few months, sent her back to her father. He is solitary. He is after moksha, what will he do with you?” For good measure, Vasishta added, “Vishnu is the husband for you. How handsome he is, and such a lover. Narayana will make you happy.”They all said, “Don’t be obstinate, Uma, we will get you married to Hari.” Parvathy laughed softly and said with dignity, “By your light and wisdom, Munis, you speak truly. But remember I am a mountain’s daughter and my obstinacy is congenital. Undoubtedly, Vishnu is wonderful: but he is not for me. Not if the sun rose in the west, not if Mount Meru moved from his place, not if Agni grew cold as ice, or the lotus bloomed out of a rock, will I change my mind.”  The rishis came back to me and said Uma was the purest of the pure.

Then Siva decides to test her himself, this time disguised as a dreadlocked renunciate (Jatila). Not recognizing that the Jatila is actually the one she seeks, Parvathy nevertheless receives him with honor. After a preliminary greeting, the Jatila asks her about herself and the penance she is doing. “I am Himachala’s daughter Parvathy. I was once Daksha’s daughter Sati and I was someone’s wife. But when my father mocked my husband, I killed myself to be born of nobler blood. In this life, too, my love came to me. Then, by misfortune, he blazed Kaama to ashes with fire from his eye and went away. I came to the holy river to worship him and bring him back.” She stopped and bit her lip. The smile faded from her face and there was such sorrow in its place. Then, she smiled bravely again. “But my Tapasya has failed, Jatila He is not pleased with me. When you arrived, I was about to make myself ashes in the yagna fire. Now that you are here you can watch me and tell the world my story. I will be born a million times and for a million lives woo him with worship: if that is what it takes to win him.” The Jatila lunged forward to stop her, but she had walked into the fire and it raged over her head. With a hiss, the flames died around her. The Jatila laughed, “You are an extraordinary young woman! Your tapasya is powerful enough to extinguish a fire, but your desire remains unfulfilled. Who do you pray for to be your husband? In whose name do you forsake unearthly beauty like yours and deprave your young life where it does not belong? Your penance is such that you could have any of the devas, even Vishnu I should think. Tell me, tell me: for I am a bestower of boons. I make the strangest wishes come true.” 

Despairing for her mistress, her sakhi Vijaya said, “She wants Siva for her husband.” The Jatila jumped as if a scorpion had stung him; he howled in surprise. He wagged his finger at Vijaya and began to laugh. “Ah, you joke with an old man.” Parvathy insists that it is no joke. Sensing something, she begs the saintly Jatila to help her, saying that he is her last hope. He finally agrees, saying that he knows Siva better than anyone. The Jatila then begins to list all the contrasts between Siva and Parvathy, one by one: a litany of opposites, including all the apparently repugnant qualities of Siva, and of his retinue, that would make him a terrible husband. As he went on, the Jatila’s tirade became more spiteful. Suddenly, as if his words had pierced her like barbs of battle, Parvathy stopped her ears with her hands and him with an angry cry. “Wretch! Why did I honor you? You are worthy of killing. You dare speak like this of Siva, the origin of the universe, Siva who gave the Vedas to Vishnu as prana at the beginning of the kalpa, Siva who is the father of Prakriti, Siva in whom everything is auspicious, Siva the changeless, Siva from whose body the devas collect the fallen ashes to wear on their heads, Siva whose mere name confers moksha, Siva the formless and of endless forms! Don’t you know, you fool, that speaking ill of Siva will ruin all the punya you have?”

The Jatila opened his mouth to speak, but Parvathy screamed, “Vijaya, stop the brahmana or he will say more! Let no one talk to the fool. Come, let us leave: to stay here will be to court death.” She turned away, but I caught the sleeve of her garment. Vijaya and the others gasped, because I was the Jatila no more, but myself again. Uma still had her face turned from me. She cried, “Let me go!”I said, “Where will you go without me?”Hearing the change in my voice, she turned. Such an unforgettable smile broke on her wan face. Gazing into her eyes, I said, “I will not let you go now. I am your slave by your tapasya, by your beauty. Every moment with you is as deep as a yuga. Tell me what you want, you can have anything from me. Parvathy, come with me to Kailasa, let us have no more pretence between us. Ask for your vara!” She smiled and said, “You be my vara.”

Know, O most sincere yatris, that while many events are still to occur and be recounted in this most illustrious Purana, from this point on the final outcome is clear. And when all the prescribed duties have been fulfilled, in the prescribed way and at the auspicious time, then and only then does the marriage ceremony of Shiva and Parvathy take place. And then, at long last, the reunion is complete.