The Race Around the World

Two sons at Kailāsa

Nārada had heard from Brahmā the whole story of Gaṇeśa's birth and his mighty deeds, and he wanted more. What happened next? he asked. Tell it properly — it is full of the glory of Śivā and Śiva, and it gives great joy. Brahmā praised the question, and went on.

Śivā and Śiva, he said, watched the play of their two sons again and again, and their happiness kept growing. Petted and loved by their parents, the boys grew happier day and night, and played together in delight. Both served their mother and father with deep devotion. And the parents' love for six-faced Kārttikeya and for Gaṇeśa grew steadily, the Purāṇa says, like the moon in the bright half of the month.

Who will marry first?

One day Śivā and Śiva sat together alone, full of affection, turning something over in their minds. Our sons are now of an age to marry, they said. How shall we arrange a good wedding for both? Ṣaṇmukha is dear to us, and Gaṇeśa is just as dear. Caught in this pleasant worry, they enjoyed it as part of their play.

The two sons came to know what their parents were thinking, and both at once grew eager to be married. “I will marry first!” said one. “No, I will!” said the other — and they kept saying it, and quarrelled over it.

The rulers of the world heard them and, taking on the ways of ordinary people, were quite astonished. What should be done now? How should these weddings be carried out? Having thought it through, they came up with a wonderful plan. At a suitable moment they called both sons and sat them down.

We have made a rule for the two of you that will bring you happiness, they said. Listen to it gladly — we are telling you exactly how it is. You are both equally dear to us; neither is loved more. So we have set a fair condition for you both. Whichever of you goes around the whole earth and comes back first — his wedding, with every auspicious sign, will be held first.

Kārttikeya sets off; Gaṇeśa thinks

The moment he heard this, mighty Kārttikeya rushed out of the house to go around the earth.

Gaṇeśa, the wise one, stayed where he was, and thought hard with his good sense. What should I do? Where should I go? I cannot even make a leap. After walking a single krośa I cannot walk any further. What joy would I win by trying to go around this earth?

Listen, said Brahmā to Nārada, to what Gaṇeśa did instead. He bathed properly, as the rules prescribe, came back into the house, and said to his parents: Father, Mother, please sit on this seat I have set out for your worship, and fulfil my wish.

Pārvatī and the Supreme Lord sat down on the seat to receive his worship. Gaṇeśa worshipped them, and walked around them, and walked around them again — seven circuits in all, and seven times he bowed down. Then that ocean of wisdom praised them again and again, joined his palms, and spoke to his parents, who were overflowing with love: Mother, Father, hear my good word. Now please arrange my lovely wedding, and quickly.

“I have gone around the earth seven times”

Hearing this, the parents answered the great treasury of wisdom: You too must go around the earth and its forests properly. Kumāra has already gone. Go there as well, and come back first.

Gaṇeśa grew stern and a little angry. Mother, Father, he said, you are dharma itself, and you are held to be the most learned of all. So listen carefully to what I say, for it is in keeping with dharma. I have gone around the earth seven times already. Why then do you talk like this?

Again taking on the ways of the world, the parents asked him: Son, when did you go around the earth — this vast earth of seven continents, stretching to the oceans, thick with fearsome forests?

Gaṇeśa's argument

Then the treasury of wisdom made his case. By worshipping you, my parents Śivā and Śiva, I have used my understanding to go around the earth all the way to the oceans. This is what the Vedas, the śāstras and the books of dharma say. Is it true, or is it not?

Whoever worships his mother and father and walks around them, he went on, surely gains the fruit of going around the whole earth. And one who leaves his parents at home and goes off to holy places is said to incur a sin like that of killing them.

For a son, the lotus feet of his mother and father are the great tīrtha. Other tīrthas are reached only after a long journey; this one is close by, easy to reach, and a means to every kind of dharma. For a son, mother and father — and for a wife, her husband — are the finest tīrtha, right there in the home.

The Vedas and the books of dharma say this again and again, said Gaṇeśa, and you must act on it too — otherwise they become untrue. And if they become untrue, then your own nature becomes untrue, and the Vedas themselves are made false; there is no doubt of it. So either hold my auspicious wedding quickly, or declare the Vedas and śāstras to be lies. You are dharma in person — weigh which of the two is better, and do that.

Having said this, the son of Pārvatī, best of the wise, fell silent.

The parents are won over

Śivā and Śiva, the lords of the universe, who love to play great games, were amazed. Then they praised their son, so keen of mind and so exact in his words, and spoke to him lovingly.

Son, they said, a pure understanding has arisen in you, great soul, and what you have said is true — there is no doubt of it. When trouble comes, the one whose intelligence stays sharp sees his troubles vanish, as darkness vanishes when the sun comes up. Whoever has wisdom has strength; how can the witless be strong? By cleverness alone, a hare once tricked a proud, maddened lion into falling down a well.

Whatever dharma the Vedas, śāstras and Purāṇas lay down for a son, you have fulfilled it all, they said. What you have done so well, no one else could do. We accept your word, and it cannot now be undone.

So they reassured Gaṇeśa, that ocean of wisdom, and began to plan his wedding in earnest.

Siddhi and Buddhi

Just then Prajāpati Viśvarūpa came to know what Śivā and Śiva had decided, and he was delighted. He had two daughters, Siddhi and Buddhi, lovely in every limb and divine in form.

With great joy, Girijā and Maheśvara had Gaṇeśa married to the two of them in a grand celebration. All the gods came gladly to the wedding. It was carried out exactly as Pārvatī and Śaṅkara had wished, and the gods and sages were overjoyed.

Gaṇeśa found with his two wives a happiness that is very hard to come by, the Purāṇa says — it cannot be put into words. After some time two divine sons were born to him: from Siddhi a son named Kṣema, “well-being”, and from Buddhi a most handsome son named Lābha, “gain”. So Gaṇeśa lived on in happiness beyond imagining.

Kārttikeya returns — and Nārada speaks

Then Śiva's other son, having gone all the way around the earth, came home. At that very moment the great Nārada arrived at his house too, and spoke to him.

I am telling you the truth, Nārada said — not a lie, not a trick, not out of jealousy. What your parents Śivā and Śiva have done, no one in this world could do. Truly, truly, I tell you: using the circling of the earth as a pretext, they sent you out of the house and held a fine and splendid wedding for Gaṇeśa.

Gaṇeśa is married now, he went on. He has received as wives two jewel-like daughters of Prajāpati Viśvarūpa, and has had two sons by them — Kṣema from Siddhi and Lābha from Buddhi, both bringers of every happiness. So he lives in constant joy with his two wives and two sons, with his parents' blessing. And you, obeying an order your parents gave you deceitfully, went around the earth with its seas and forests. This, my child, is the fruit you have got for it.

Think about the trick your parents played, said Nārada. When one's own masters can do this, what will others not do? Your father and mother have acted wrongly — consider it; in my opinion it was not right. If a mother gives poison, a father sells his child and the king seizes everything, to whom can one complain? A wise man who wants peace should not even look at the face of someone who does such harm. This rule is taught everywhere in the Śrutis, Smṛtis and śāstras. I have told you; now do as you think fit.

Brahmā adds a telling line here, speaking to Nārada himself: you, who knew the working of Maheśvara's mind, said this to Kumāra and then fell silent.

The departure to Krauñca

Skanda, burning with the fire of anger, bowed to his mother and father and set out for the Krauñca mountain, though Śivā and Śiva begged him not to go. Kārttikeya, they said, why are you leaving now, when we ask you to stay? “No,” he answered, and kept walking. Father, I cannot stay here even a moment longer, he said; you have not loved me, and you have played this deceit on me.

So saying, Kārttikeya — the one whose mere sight takes away everyone's sins — went there, and the Purāṇa says he is there still, to this day.

From that day, it says, Śiva's son remained Kumāra — the youth, unmarried. That name is famous in all three worlds: auspicious, destroying all sins, holy, and a giver of brahmacarya. On the full moon of Kārttika all the gods, sages, munis and holy places go to see Kumāra. Whoever sees Kumāra on the Kārttika full moon, when it falls under the Kṛttikā star, has his sins burnt to ash and gains what he desires.

Śiva and Pārvatī follow

Parted from Skanda, Pārvatī grieved, and said humbly to Śiva: Lord, come there with me. To comfort her, Śaṅkara went himself to the Krauñca mountain with a portion of his being — and there the jyotirliṅga called Mallikārjuna, the giver of happiness, stands established. There Śiva, who fulfils the wishes of his devotees and shelters the good, is still seen together with Pārvatī.

But when Kumāra learnt that Śiva had come with Pārvatī, he turned away, detached, and made ready to leave for somewhere else. Though the gods and sages pleaded with him again and again, he moved three yojanas away from that place and lived there.

Aching with love for their son, Śivā and Śiva go there on every parva to see him: on the new-moon day Śiva himself goes, and on the full-moon day Pārvatī is sure to go to where he dwells.

The fruit of hearing

Brahmā closes the Kumāra Khaṇḍa by telling Nārada what hearing it brings. A wise person who hears this story is freed from all sins and gains every good thing he longs for. Whoever reads it or teaches it, hears it or tells it, obtains all his wishes.

A brahmin gains the radiance of Brahman; a kṣatriya becomes victorious; a vaiśya grows wealthy; a śūdra rises to eminence. The sick are freed from sickness, the frightened from fear, and no ghost or spirit troubles them. The story, the Purāṇa says, brings fame, happiness and long life, heaven, sons and grandsons, and liberation; it pleases Śivā and Śiva, deepens devotion to Śiva, and gives those who seek freedom the non-dual knowledge of Śiva. It should be heard always.