Nāgeśvara: Supriya in the Forest of Dāruka

Dārukā and her forest

After the story of Vaidyanātha, Sūta turns to the next of the twelve: the supreme jyotirliṅga called Nāgeśa, and how it came to be.

There was once a rākṣasī named Dārukā, proud because of a boon she had won from Pārvatī. Her husband Dāruka was enormously strong. With a crowd of other rākṣasas he tormented good people, wrecked their sacrifices and trampled on their dharma.

On the shore of the western sea Dārukā had a forest, sixteen yojanas across in every direction and rich in everything — fine ground, every kind of tree, all that one could want. The Goddess herself had given Dārukā charge of this forest, and she wandered there for her pleasure whenever she liked, with her husband beside her. Dāruka settled there with her and began to terrify everyone around.

Aurva's curse

The people who lived there, crushed by the demons, went to the great sage Aurva and bowed their heads. Give us shelter, they begged, or these wicked ones will kill us. You can do anything; you shine with power. There is no one else on earth we can run to. The rākṣasas flee at the very sight of you, because Śiva's fire burns in you.

Aurva, who gave refuge to all who asked, was moved by their pain. If these mighty rākṣasas go on killing living beings on the earth, he said, they will die of it themselves. If they go on wrecking sacrifices, every one of them will lose his life. This I say as truth. Having comforted the people, he went back to his many kinds of tapas.

The gods came to understand what the curse meant, and they set about fighting the enemies of heaven. Indra and all the gods gathered there with every sort of weapon, ready for war.

The city that flew into the sea

When the rākṣasas living in the forest saw the gods arrayed against them, they huddled together. What do we do now? Where do we go? they said. If we fight, we die; if we do not fight, we die. And if we just sit here, what will we eat? Who will get us out of this?

Dāruka and the rest could think of nothing, and they sank into misery. Then Dārukā, seeing the danger, reminded them of Pārvatī's boon. Long ago I worshipped Bhavānī, she said, and she granted that I could go wherever I wished, taking my own people and the whole forest with me. With such a boon, why are you suffering? Let us take the forest into the water, and all of us can live there in comfort.

The rākṣasas were overjoyed and lost their fear. She is blessed, they said to one another; this queen has given us back our lives. They bowed to her and said: Goddess, if you have that power, let us go at once — why wait? We will live happily in the water.

Just then the people came with the gods to fight the demons who had hurt them so much. Relying on Pārvatī's strength, Dārukā praised the Goddess — Victory to you! Victory to you! — and lifted up her entire city, land and water together. Like one of the winged Himālayan mountains of old, it flew off into the middle of the ocean, and there she settled fearlessly and happily with all her kin. The Purāṇa calls her a devotee of Śiva even here.

Raids from the water

Now the rākṣasas lived at ease in the middle of the sea and roamed their city without fear. Because of Aurva's curse they never set foot on land again; they only moved about on the water. But they had not changed. They seized people travelling in boats, brought them to the city and threw them into prison, and some they killed. Safe in Bhavānī's boon, they went on tormenting people however they could, and the terror that had once hung over the land now hung over the sea.

One day Dārukā came out of her city in the water and blocked the route to the land, meaning to prey on people. Just then many fine boats full of people came sailing in from all sides. The wicked rākṣasas were delighted; they rushed out, grabbed everyone aboard, carried them back to the city, bound them in strong chains and threw them into prison. There, chained and shut away, the captives were abused again and again by their jailers and suffered terribly.

Supriya's worship in prison

The leader of those captives was a merchant named Supriya — a great devotee of Śiva, upright in conduct, always devoted to him. He never let a day pass without worshipping Śiva; he followed the Śaiva way in everything and wore ash and rudrākṣa. On any day he could not worship, he would not eat. So even in prison he kept up his worship.

More than that, he taught many of the other prisoners the Śiva mantra and the method of worshipping an earthen (pārthiva) liṅga. And they too began worshipping Śiva, the giver of all desires, just as they had seen and heard. Some sat in a good posture and meditated on him; some happily lost themselves in worship done entirely in the mind. Those who knew neither the ritual nor the proper meditation simply sat repeating “namaḥ śivāya” and holding Śiva in their thoughts.

Supriya himself worshipped every day by the pārthiva method, his mind fixed on Śiva. And Śiva, the Purāṇa says, took on the form described in the scriptures and accepted every offering in person — though the merchant himself did not know that Śiva was receiving them. Six months passed this way in the prison, the worship going on without a hitch.

“I know nothing”

Then one day a servant of the wicked Dāruka saw a beautiful form of Śiva standing before the merchant. He hurried off and told the demon king exactly what he had seen, marvelling at it. Dāruka, shaken, came straight to the prison and questioned Supriya.

Merchant, whom are you meditating on? he demanded. Tell me the truth and you will not be put to death. Otherwise you die — my word is never false. I know nothing, said Supriya. Dāruka flew into a rage. Rākṣasas, he said, kill him.

At once the rākṣasas snatched up all kinds of weapons and ran at the merchant whose mind was fixed on Śiva. Seeing them come, Supriya shut his eyes in fear and, with great love, called Śiva to mind and cried his names again and again: Śaṅkara! Lord of the gods! Śambhu! Śiva! Lord of the three worlds, destroyer of the wicked, you who love your devotees — save me from this evil one, save me! You are my everything, Lord. I am in your hands now; I am yours; you are my very life.

Śiva rises from the earth

At that prayer Śiva came up out of a cleft in the ground, and with him came a splendid temple with doors on all four sides. In its centre Supriya saw the wonderful form of Śiva as pure light, with all his attendants, and he worshipped him.

Pleased with his worship, Śiva gave Supriya the weapon called Pāśupata. Then Śiva himself swiftly destroyed the whole host of rākṣasas, together with all their gear and followers. So the slayer of the wicked protected his devotee.

Having killed them all, Śiva — who takes on a beautiful body in play and whose deeds are full of wonder — gave the forest a boon. In this forest, he said, the dharma of all four varṇas — brāhmaṇa, kṣatriya, vaiśya and śūdra — will always stand firm. Here there will be excellent sages who practise and teach the Śaiva dharma, and never people ruled by tamas.

Pārvatī keeps her word

At that moment Dārukā, heartbroken, praised the Goddess Pārvatī. Pārvatī was pleased and asked her: What shall I do for you? Protect my line, said Dārukā. I will certainly protect your line — this I promise, said Pārvatī. And then, in play, she began to quarrel with Śiva.

Śiva saw her angry and, bound by the boon she had given, said to her lovingly: Do as you wish.

Pārvatī was delighted, and laughing, she quickly said: Your word will come true at the end of the age. Until then let this tamasic creation remain — that is my wish; otherwise it would be the dissolution of the world. I am your beloved, Lord, and I depend on you; so make my word good. This rākṣasī Dārukā is my own śakti, the strongest of all rākṣasīs; let her rule over the rākṣasas. The wives of the rākṣasas will bear their sons here, and all of them will live in this forest by my command.

Śiva heard his wife gladly. If that is what you say, my dear, he answered, then hear me too. I will lovingly live in this forest myself, to look after my devotees. Whoever comes here keeping to the dharma of his own station and sees me with love will become an emperor of the world. And when the Kali age has passed and the Satya age begins, a great king named Vīrasena, with a vast army, will become mighty through devotion to me. He will come here and see me, and by the fruit of that sight he will become an emperor.

So Śiva and Pārvatī, who play such great games, laughed together and stayed there in person. Śiva, in the form of a jyotirliṅga, became famous as Nāgeśvara, and the Goddess Pārvatī as Nāgeśvarī — both dear to the good.

The prophecy of Vīrasena

The sages asked: How will Vīrasena reach that forest of Dāruka, and how will he worship Śiva there? Tell us.

In the lovely land of Niṣadha, Sūta replied, in a family of kṣatriyas, Mahāsena will have a son named Vīrasena, very dear to Śiva. Worshipping Śiva as the lord of the earthen liṅga, Vīrasena will perform extremely hard tapas for twelve years.

Then Śiva, pleased, will appear and tell him: Vīrasena, I am making a fish out of wood, coating it with tin and filling it with my yogamāyā, and I give it to you. Take it and go by boat into this cleft. When you reach the cleft I have made, go in, worship Nāgeśvara, receive the Pāśupata weapon from him, and destroy these chief rākṣasīs. By the power of seeing me you will lack nothing. By then Pārvatī's boon will have run its course, and whoever else is there living like mlecchas will turn to good conduct.

Having said this and shown him great grace, Sadāśiva, the remover of sorrow, will vanish. And Vīrasena, holding Śiva's boon, will be able to do everything without doubt.

Phala

This, Sūta says, is how Nāgeśvara came to be — the lord of lights in the form of a liṅga, who always fulfils every wish of the three worlds. Whoever listens with faith, every day, to this account of Nāgeśvara's origin gains every desire, and it destroys even the greatest sins.