Śarabha and the Fire of Narasiṃha

The fire that would not go out

Jaya and Vijaya, Viṣṇu's doorkeepers, were cursed by the sages and born as sons of Diti: Hiraṇyakaśipu and Hiraṇyākṣa. When Viṣṇu as the boar killed Hiraṇyākṣa, his brother did ten thousand years of tapas and won a boon from Brahmā that no one in Brahmā's creation could kill him. He ruled the three worlds, crushed dharma — and at last turned in hatred on his own son Prahlāda, a devotee of Viṣṇu.

Then, at twilight, Viṣṇu burst from a pillar of the assembly hall in the form of Narasiṃha, the man-lion. He killed the demon's army in a moment, fought Hiraṇyakaśipu for an hour, and at dusk dragged him onto the threshold, laid him across his lap, and tore him open with his claws, as the gods watched from the sky.

The drums of the gods sounded. Prahlāda stood amazed; even Lakṣmī was astonished at the form she saw. But the flame of Narasiṃha's anger did not die down. It spread. The whole world was scorched and shaken, and the gods fled, crying: what will happen now?

Brahmā and the gods sent Prahlāda to him. Narasiṃha, full of compassion, took the boy to his heart, and Prahlāda's heart grew cool — but the fire of the anger did not. So the gods went to Śiva.

The gods at Kailāsa

They praised him: whenever we have been in trouble, you have saved us. When the ocean was churned and we shared out its treasures, you took the poison, and became Nīlakaṇṭha; had you not drunk it, everyone would have burned. Save us now from the flame of Narasiṃha's anger. Śiva told them: go home without fear. Whoever comes to me for refuge is dearer to me than my own life.

Vīrabhadra's words

Śiva called Vīrabhadra, his fierce form. Go, he said. First calm him with gentle words. If he will not be calmed, show him my supreme Bhairava form.

Vīrabhadra took a peaceful form and went to Narasiṃha, and spoke to him as a father speaks to his own son. Lord Mādhava, you took birth for the good of the world. As the fish you carried the ark of beings through the flood; as the tortoise you bore the mountain; as the boar you raised the earth; now as Narasiṃha you have killed Hiraṇyakaśipu and saved Prahlāda. There is no devotee of Śiva greater than you. Your purpose is done. Withdraw this terrible form.

But Narasiṃha, drunk with power, grew angrier still. Go back where you came from, he roared. I will destroy this whole world now. I am the destroyer; no one rules over me. Brahmā was born from the lotus of my navel. I am the death of death.

Vīrabhadra laughed. Do you not know Śiva, the lord of the world, who holds the Pināka bow? he said. Every power you have is his, a spark of his śakti; you take birth after birth moved by him, like a potter's wheel. Remember whose light overwhelmed you when the liṅga of fire appeared. Remember from whom you received the discus that you carry. Calm your fire yourself — or Rudra's anger will fall on you like lightning on a dry tree.

Śarabha

Narasiṃha lunged to seize him. And in that moment a form appeared that no one had ever seen — born of Śiva's own radiance, filling the sky, not golden, not gentle, not the light of sun or fire or lightning or moon. Every other light was swallowed in it.

It was Śiva himself, as Śarabha: with a thousand arms, matted hair and the crescent moon; a being with two great wings and a beak, four feet, claws like thunderbolts, and a blue throat; roaring like the clouds at the end of an age, his eyes burning with anger. Before that form, the strength of Narasiṃha faded like a firefly before the sun.

Śarabha seized him — with his tail he bound his legs, with his arms his arms — and rose into the sky, as Garuḍa carries off a serpent, striking him again and again with his wings. The gods and sages bowed to Śiva as he went.

Water into water

Carried away, humbled, Narasiṃha folded his hands and praised Śiva with a hundred and eight names. Then he prayed: Lord, whenever this foolish mind of mine is clouded by pride, take the pride away. And Vīrabhadra drew Narasiṃha's form, and his power, back into himself.

The gods praised Śiva. And Śiva said to them: as water poured into water, milk into milk and ghee into ghee become one, so Viṣṇu has become one with me. For a time Viṣṇu took the form of the mighty, proud Narasiṃha and set out to destroy the world — I bow to him. My devotees should pray to him; he is the greatest of my devotees, and he grants boons to my devotees.

Then the lord of birds vanished. Vīrabhadra took the lion's skin to Kailāsa, and from that time, the Purāṇa says, Śiva wears it, and the lion's face is the head-bead of his garland of skulls.