The Fly-by-Night Weaver
I first read the sad story of Phaeton from Mali's now-forgotten classic compendium of world myths 'Balakathamalika' while in primary school:
Born to a mortal mother, Phaeton pesters his divine father, the sun god Apollo and obtains permission to drive his (Apollo's) chariot for a day. The horses, missing Apollo's firm grip on the reins, run wild and pull the blazing chariot too close to the earth turning North Africa into a scorched desert and setting on fire the mountains of mainland Greece. Seeing the mayhem, Zeus hurls his thunderbolt at poor Phaeton causing him to fall to earth in a scatter of charred flesh and bone. Not satisfied, Zeus turns the lad's grieving sisters into trees and a devoted friend desperately searching for his remains into a swan.
What had struck me, even as a 9 year old, as decidedly odd about Zeus was his never trying to control the horses - I thought he could have sent Hermes (he of the winged sandals) on an urgent mission to rein them in or even pulled up Apollo but chose to kill Pheton instead. As to what was done about the runaway chariot was never mentioned in Mali's retelling. Later in life, I learned from Ovid that the thunderbolt smashed the chariot as well to pieces; as for the horses, well, they must somehow have made their way back to Apollo's stables.
The moral of the story is actually quite simple - no mortal should venture into/ mess with the Gods' realms. Indeed, such stories are to be found in our myths as well. Gods don't take kindly to men acting like them. Krishna for instance, summarily killed a certain madcap king by name Paundraka Vasudeva who had declared himself to be the real Krishna and the lord, a mere imposter-usurper.
But we also have a story from the Panchatantra that goes like this (I read it just a few days back):
There was a beautiful princess. A handsome but impecunious weaver saw her and fell desperately in hopeless love (as per the original text, it was more lust than love). But he had a smart craftsman friend who said: "I fill fit you with two extra robotic arms and build a mechanical Garuda (eagle) and train you how to operate it. Just fly into her palace at night pretending to be Vishnu himself riding Garuda - and the rest is up to you!"
Soon, the eagle and arms were ready and the weaver flew into the princess's rooms through a window. The girl was shocked and thrilled to see the 'lord' suddenly materialize before her. The weaver said: "O Beautiful Princess, love for you has brought me here all the way from heaven! But since I am a god, I am not supposed to meet other mortals and get involved in their affairs. So, be mine and keep this a secret!". Long story short, he began to visit her every night.
Word soon got to the king that his daughter had a secret lover. When sternly questioned, the princess said in all her earnestness: "Yes, I am married to Vishnu. He told me not to tell anyone about it but has also blessed this land!". The king decided to check by keeping watch at night and when he saw 'Vishnu' fly into his daughter's chambers, he was beside himself with joy - the loftiest of gods had indeed become his son-in-law.
Soon war erupted with his neighboring kingdoms. The enemies steadily gained and laid seige to the citadel. The desperate king asked his daughter to seek Vishnu's help for his beleaugured kingdom.
The clever weaver knew the game was up. He was now too deeply in love with the princess to even consider escaping and abandoning her and family to their enemies. But, if he rode his eagle to battle, enemy archers would easily shoot him down; and if he revealed who he was to the king, it would be instant execution! He decided: "Better to perish in a brave cause!" and told the princess: "My Love, tomorrow, Garuda and I will swoop down on the enemies. Ask your father to simultaneously attack them with all his strength. Victory shall be yours!"
Now, in his celestial abode, the real Vishnu summoned the real Garuda and said: "The foolhardy weaver will fly out tomorrow to do battle and a single salvo from the enemies' archers will finish him. Then people will think Vishnu and Garuda have been killed in battle and thereafter, nobody will pray to us or make offerings to us. So, we have no choice but to help the feller! You give your strength to his machine bird and I shall make him immune to weapons; seeing his divine powers, the enemy will be stunned and then, the king's forces will be able to beat them back."
Things went exactly as the lord predicted. The enemies routed, the weaver flew back and landed before the king. Now, some of the soldiers actually recognized him. But before anyone spoke, the hero confessed to the king all he had done just to gain the princess's hand. However, the king had been sufficiently impressed by his courage (and he was pragmatic as well!) so he said: "Stay married to my daughter and be my heir!"
------------
The moral of this strange story, as per Panchatantra is: "Fortune favors the Brave and Smart!". But, things are actually a lot richer than that: indeed, Vishnu knew all along what was going on. He could have acted like his own incarnation Krishna and stopped or even killed the weaver even before he first met the princess. Alternatively, he could even have impersonated the imposter and ... (in another mythological episode concerning a certain Vrinda, he had done something on those lines- see wiki). But he did nothing whatsoever and simply waited until left with only one option - to help the weaver gain a largely undeserved victory. But then, one can't say the lord bungled either; for under pressure, the weaver actually grows from (literally!) fly-by-night, lustful trickster to a man brave enough to face his fate and honest enough to own his actions so his final elevation to royalty comes thru as largely merited.
And crucially, the gods need humans (and their prayers) just as much as the other way round!
Traditionally, Siva (who goes by the nickname Bhola (=naive)) is a far more favored target for such irreverent treatment in stories than the street-smart Vishnu. I remember from the 1980s a then freshly minted Malayalam comic story by name 'Thala Maratte!'. A dimwitted school boy by name Damu gains from Siva the absurd power to transpose the heads of any two beings he choses; and he promptly tests his new power on goddess Parvati and Nandi, the bull with devastating consequences. But as the story progresses, Damu too becomes smart!
---------------
Here is a quaint picture of a 'Buddha Putto':
Born to a mortal mother, Phaeton pesters his divine father, the sun god Apollo and obtains permission to drive his (Apollo's) chariot for a day. The horses, missing Apollo's firm grip on the reins, run wild and pull the blazing chariot too close to the earth turning North Africa into a scorched desert and setting on fire the mountains of mainland Greece. Seeing the mayhem, Zeus hurls his thunderbolt at poor Phaeton causing him to fall to earth in a scatter of charred flesh and bone. Not satisfied, Zeus turns the lad's grieving sisters into trees and a devoted friend desperately searching for his remains into a swan.
What had struck me, even as a 9 year old, as decidedly odd about Zeus was his never trying to control the horses - I thought he could have sent Hermes (he of the winged sandals) on an urgent mission to rein them in or even pulled up Apollo but chose to kill Pheton instead. As to what was done about the runaway chariot was never mentioned in Mali's retelling. Later in life, I learned from Ovid that the thunderbolt smashed the chariot as well to pieces; as for the horses, well, they must somehow have made their way back to Apollo's stables.
The moral of the story is actually quite simple - no mortal should venture into/ mess with the Gods' realms. Indeed, such stories are to be found in our myths as well. Gods don't take kindly to men acting like them. Krishna for instance, summarily killed a certain madcap king by name Paundraka Vasudeva who had declared himself to be the real Krishna and the lord, a mere imposter-usurper.
But we also have a story from the Panchatantra that goes like this (I read it just a few days back):
There was a beautiful princess. A handsome but impecunious weaver saw her and fell desperately in hopeless love (as per the original text, it was more lust than love). But he had a smart craftsman friend who said: "I fill fit you with two extra robotic arms and build a mechanical Garuda (eagle) and train you how to operate it. Just fly into her palace at night pretending to be Vishnu himself riding Garuda - and the rest is up to you!"
Soon, the eagle and arms were ready and the weaver flew into the princess's rooms through a window. The girl was shocked and thrilled to see the 'lord' suddenly materialize before her. The weaver said: "O Beautiful Princess, love for you has brought me here all the way from heaven! But since I am a god, I am not supposed to meet other mortals and get involved in their affairs. So, be mine and keep this a secret!". Long story short, he began to visit her every night.
Word soon got to the king that his daughter had a secret lover. When sternly questioned, the princess said in all her earnestness: "Yes, I am married to Vishnu. He told me not to tell anyone about it but has also blessed this land!". The king decided to check by keeping watch at night and when he saw 'Vishnu' fly into his daughter's chambers, he was beside himself with joy - the loftiest of gods had indeed become his son-in-law.
Soon war erupted with his neighboring kingdoms. The enemies steadily gained and laid seige to the citadel. The desperate king asked his daughter to seek Vishnu's help for his beleaugured kingdom.
The clever weaver knew the game was up. He was now too deeply in love with the princess to even consider escaping and abandoning her and family to their enemies. But, if he rode his eagle to battle, enemy archers would easily shoot him down; and if he revealed who he was to the king, it would be instant execution! He decided: "Better to perish in a brave cause!" and told the princess: "My Love, tomorrow, Garuda and I will swoop down on the enemies. Ask your father to simultaneously attack them with all his strength. Victory shall be yours!"
Now, in his celestial abode, the real Vishnu summoned the real Garuda and said: "The foolhardy weaver will fly out tomorrow to do battle and a single salvo from the enemies' archers will finish him. Then people will think Vishnu and Garuda have been killed in battle and thereafter, nobody will pray to us or make offerings to us. So, we have no choice but to help the feller! You give your strength to his machine bird and I shall make him immune to weapons; seeing his divine powers, the enemy will be stunned and then, the king's forces will be able to beat them back."
Things went exactly as the lord predicted. The enemies routed, the weaver flew back and landed before the king. Now, some of the soldiers actually recognized him. But before anyone spoke, the hero confessed to the king all he had done just to gain the princess's hand. However, the king had been sufficiently impressed by his courage (and he was pragmatic as well!) so he said: "Stay married to my daughter and be my heir!"
------------
The moral of this strange story, as per Panchatantra is: "Fortune favors the Brave and Smart!". But, things are actually a lot richer than that: indeed, Vishnu knew all along what was going on. He could have acted like his own incarnation Krishna and stopped or even killed the weaver even before he first met the princess. Alternatively, he could even have impersonated the imposter and ... (in another mythological episode concerning a certain Vrinda, he had done something on those lines- see wiki). But he did nothing whatsoever and simply waited until left with only one option - to help the weaver gain a largely undeserved victory. But then, one can't say the lord bungled either; for under pressure, the weaver actually grows from (literally!) fly-by-night, lustful trickster to a man brave enough to face his fate and honest enough to own his actions so his final elevation to royalty comes thru as largely merited.
And crucially, the gods need humans (and their prayers) just as much as the other way round!
Traditionally, Siva (who goes by the nickname Bhola (=naive)) is a far more favored target for such irreverent treatment in stories than the street-smart Vishnu. I remember from the 1980s a then freshly minted Malayalam comic story by name 'Thala Maratte!'. A dimwitted school boy by name Damu gains from Siva the absurd power to transpose the heads of any two beings he choses; and he promptly tests his new power on goddess Parvati and Nandi, the bull with devastating consequences. But as the story progresses, Damu too becomes smart!
---------------
Here is a quaint picture of a 'Buddha Putto':
He is of course lying prone, lost in some nice dream. But being a true blue Indian, my first impression was that this is an Asian counterpart to a certain famous statue in Brussels.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home