Mahākāla of Ujjayinī

Avantī and the house of Vedapriya

The sages could not hear enough about the Jyotirliṅgas, and asked Sūta for the third. Sūta said he counted himself blessed to be in such company, and told them this story.

There is a lovely city called Avantī, dear to Śiva, supremely holy, a city that purifies the world and gives liberation to all beings. In it lived a fine brahmin, devoted to the Vedas and to their daily rites. He kept the sacred fire every day and was devoted to Śiva, worshipping a pārthiva liṅga — a liṅga shaped from earth — each day. This brahmin, Vedapriya, reaped the fruit of all his deeds, gave himself to knowledge, and in the end reached the goal of the good.

He had four sons, as devoted to Śiva as he was, and always obedient to their parents. The eldest was Devapriya, then Priyamedhā, the third Sukṛta, and the fourth the dharma-minded Suvrata. Through their merit happiness grew on the earth; their good qualities kept growing the way the moon grows in the bright fortnight, and the whole city shone with the power of Brahman.

The demon Dūṣaṇa

Meanwhile, on the mountain Ratnamāla there lived a great asura named Dūṣaṇa, a hater of dharma. A boon from Brahmā had made him so strong that he thought the whole world beneath him. He defeated the gods and drove them from their homes.

Then he set about the earth. The Purāṇa says he destroyed every rite of the Vedas and the smṛtis as a lion scatters hares, and drove dharma out of every tīrtha and every sacred place. Only one place was left — lovely Avantī, where Vedic worship still stood.

So Dūṣaṇa gathered a huge army and marched on Avantī to deal with the brahmins living there. When he arrived he called his four greatest generals and said: Why do these wretched brahmins not obey me? Devoted as they are to the Vedas, they deserve punishment. I have conquered every god and every king in the world — can these brahmins not be brought to heel? If they want to live, let them give up the dharma of Śiva and of the Vedas and be comfortable. Otherwise their lives are in doubt. I mean it. Go and do it without hesitation.

“Śiva will protect us”

The four daityas spread out to the four directions, blazing like the fire at the end of an age. The brahmins heard what was coming — and it did not trouble them at all. They were absorbed in meditation on Śiva, and they did not waver by a hair's breadth. What, the Purāṇa asks, are these poor daityas before Śiva?

Soon the city was overrun. People who were being tormented came running to the brahmins. What should we do, masters? they cried. The wicked ones have come; they have killed many people. That is why we have come to you.

Vedapriya's sons, who always trusted in Śiva, answered them. Listen, they said. We have no army to frighten the wicked, and no weapons to defeat them. But a person who takes refuge even with an ordinary man is not put to shame — and we have taken refuge with Śiva, who can do all things. How can these asuras disgrace us? Śiva himself will protect us from the asuras. Apart from Sadāśiva, who loves his devotees, there is no one in the world to shelter us now.

Mahākāla bursts forth

So the brothers held firm. They worshipped the earthen liṅga with care, and sank into meditation on Śiva. Just then Dūṣaṇa saw them and shouted: Kill them! Strike them down! But Vedapriya's sons, lost in Śiva, did not even hear him.

As the demon moved to kill them, the ground where the pārthiva liṅga stood split open with a roar, leaving a pit. Out of that pit rose Śiva in a terrible form — Mahākāla, the Great Time, destroyer of the wicked and refuge of the good.

Wretch! he cried. I have appeared as Mahākāla for the sake of wicked ones like you. Get away from these brahmins! And with nothing more than a roar — a single “huṃ” — Mahākāla burned Dūṣaṇa to ash, army and all. Some of the soldiers he killed; the rest fled. As darkness vanishes at the sight of the sun, the Purāṇa says, so that army vanished at the sight of Śiva.

The boon

The drums of the gods sounded and flowers rained down. Brahmā, Viṣṇu and all the gods gathered there. The brahmins folded their hands, bowed to Śaṅkara with devotion, and praised him with many hymns.

Maheśvara, in his form as Mahākāla, was pleased. He reassured them and said: Ask for a boon. The brahmins bowed their heads and answered: Mahākāla, Mahādeva, Lord who punishes the wicked — Śambhu, Śiva, set us free from the ocean of worldly life. And for the protection of the world, stay here, Lord, and always save the people who come to see you.

Śiva gave them the highest goal, and then, to protect his devotees, he stayed in that beautiful pit. The brahmins were liberated, and for a krośa in every direction the land became the auspicious domain of Śiva in the form of the liṅga.

From that day Śiva has been famous on earth as Mahākāleśvara. The Purāṇa says that one who sees him suffers no sorrow even in dreams; whatever a person worships that liṅga for, he receives, and gains liberation in the next world as well.

King Candrasena and the Cintāmaṇi

The sages asked to hear still more of Mahākāla's glory, and Sūta told them a second story.

In Ujjayinī there was a great king named Candrasena. He knew the true meaning of all the śāstras, he was a devotee of Śiva, and he had mastered his senses. His friend was Maṇibhadra, a chief among Mahādeva's gaṇas, honoured by all.

One day Maṇibhadra, in his generosity and pleasure, gave the king a wonderful jewel called Cintāmaṇi. It shone like the sun, and — like the Kaustubha gem — it brought blessing just by being thought of, seen or heard of. Bronze, copper, iron, lead, even stone turned to gold the moment its light touched them. Wearing it at his throat, the king shone among the other kings like the sun among the gods.

Every king on earth heard about it and burned to have it. Foolish and jealous, they tried every means of getting the god-given jewel out of him. But Candrasena, firm in his devotion to Mahākāla, turned them all away. Stung by this, the kings of every land rose up in uproar, gathered their fourfold armies, and set out to defeat him. Joining together and signalling their plans to one another, they surrounded all four gates of Ujjayinī with vast numbers of soldiers.

When Candrasena saw his city besieged, he took refuge in Mahākāleśvara. Without wavering and without food, with firm resolve and a single mind, he worshipped Mahākāla day and night. And Mahākāla, pleased, found a way to protect him. Listen, said Sūta, to what he did.

The cowherd boy's liṅga

Just then a cowherd woman came wandering through the city with her little son and reached the shrine of Mahākāla. She was a widow, and the boy was five years old. She watched with reverence as the king worshipped. The worship was wonderful to see; she bowed to Śiva and went back to her camp.

The boy had watched it all closely, and out of curiosity he decided to do the same. Near his own camp there was another, empty camp. He brought a beautiful stone there and set it up with devotion. Then he worshipped Śiva with make-believe offerings — pretend sandal paste, ornaments, cloth, incense, lamps, grains of rice — and offered pretend food as well. Again and again he worshipped with lovely bilva leaves and flowers; he danced all sorts of dances, and bowed to Śiva over and over.

Meanwhile his mother lovingly called him to eat. His heart was steeped in Śiva, and though she called again and again he did not want to eat. So she went to fetch him. She found him sitting before Śiva with his eyes closed. She grabbed his hand and pulled him, and struck him in her anger. When even that did not bring him, she threw the liṅga far away and wrecked his worship. Then, scolding him and lamenting, she went back into the house.

The boy saw that his mother had destroyed his worship of the Lord. “Deva! Deva!” he cried, and fell to the ground. Overwhelmed with grief, he fainted.

The jewelled temple

After two ghaṭīs he came to and opened his eyes — and by Śiva's grace, in that very place, there stood a beautiful temple of Mahākāla. It had great golden gateways with fine doors and festoons, and an altar bright with precious sapphire and dazzling diamond. It was crowned with many wonderful pots of burnished gold, lit by jewelled pillars, and floored with crystal.

In the middle of it the boy saw a jewelled Jyotirliṅga of Śiva, the treasury of compassion — and it was adorned with the very offerings of his own worship.

He jumped up, amazed, and felt as if he were sinking into an ocean of joy. He praised Śiva and bowed to him again and again, and at sunset he went back to his camp. There he found his home had become a dwelling of gold, bright and marvellous like Indra's city, built of jewels and gold and full of every beauty. He went in, happy, and found his mother asleep — her body now shining with divine marks and jewelled ornaments, like a woman of the heavens.

He woke her eagerly. She rose, saw all these wonders, was struck with amazement and joy, and hugged her son. When she had heard from his own lips the whole story of Śiva's grace, she went and told the king, who was still at his unbroken worship.

The kings lay down their arms

When his vow was complete, the king came that same night and saw the power of the cowherd woman's son, whose devotion had so pleased Śiva. With his ministers and priests the steady king was lost in joy. Weeping with love and saying the name “Śiva”, Candrasena embraced the boy. A great festival broke out; everyone sang the praises of Śiva, and for the townspeople, lost in joy at such wonders, the night passed like a moment.

At daybreak the besieging kings heard the news from their spies. Amazed, they gathered and said to one another: This King Candrasena, lord of Ujjayinī, the city of Mahākāla, is a devotee of Śiva — he fears nothing and cannot be beaten. If even the children of his city are such devotees, how great a devotee must the king be! If we fight him, Śiva will surely be angry, and his anger will destroy us all. We should make peace with this king; then Śiva will be gracious to us.

So they gave up their enmity, their hearts were purified, and gladly they laid down their weapons with their own hands. They entered the lovely city of Mahākāla, and with Candrasena's leave they worshipped Mahākāla. Then they went to the cowherd woman's house and praised her great and divine good fortune.

Candrasena welcomed and honoured them and seated them on costly seats. When they saw the temple and the liṅga that had come into being through Śiva's grace to the cowherd boy, their faith in Śiva became boundless. Hoping for Śiva's grace, they gladly gave the boy many gifts, and made him king over all the cowherds who lived in all their lands.

Hanumān's blessing

Just then Hanumān appeared among them — the radiant lord of the monkeys, worshipped by all the gods. The kings, astonished, rose and bowed to him with devotion. Seated in their midst and honoured by them, Hanumān embraced the cowherd boy, looked at the kings and said:

Listen, kings, and let every embodied being listen. For all who have bodies there is no refuge but Śiva. This cowherd boy, by good fortune, saw Śiva being worshipped — and worshipping auspicious Śiva without any mantra at all, he has reached him.

This great devotee of Śiva will spread the fame of the cowherds. He will enjoy every pleasure in this world and gain liberation at the end. In the eighth generation of his line will be born a cowherd of great renown named Nanda, and to him Nārāyaṇa himself will be born as a son, under the name Kṛṣṇa. From today this cowherd boy will be famous throughout the world by the name Śrīkara.

Having said this, the Purāṇa says, Hanumān — son of Añjanā, lord of monkeys, himself an avatāra of Śiva — looked on all the kings and on Candrasena with kindness. Then he lovingly taught the wise boy Śrīkara the Śaiva way of life that is dear to Śiva. And while the kings, Candrasena and Śrīkara all looked on, Hanumān, overjoyed, vanished.

The highest goal

Honoured by Candrasena, the kings took their leave and went home, content. Śrīkara, taught by Hanumān, worshipped Śiva together with brahmins who knew the dharma. King Candrasena and the cowherd's son Śrīkara both worshipped Mahākāla with great love, and in time both of them, through that worship, reached the highest state.

So, said Sūta, the Jyotirliṅga called Mahākāla gives the good an auspicious goal, destroys all the wicked, and is kind to its devotees. This story, he said, is most holy and secret; it gives every happiness, leads to heaven, and makes devotion to Śiva grow.