The Birth of Nandī

Nandī tells this story himself, to the sage Sanatkumāra, in the Śiva Purāṇa. He begins: listen to how I was born from a portion of Mahādeva, and how I became one with him.

A son beyond the gods

The ancestors of the sage Śilāda came to him and asked him to have a son, so that their line would be saved. Śilāda, a man of great dharma, went away with his eyes lowered and his mind fixed, and did long and fierce tapas to Indra.

Indra was pleased and came to give a boon. Śilāda asked: give me a son not born of a womb, who will never die. Indra shook his head. I can give you a son born of a womb, who will die. Nothing else. No one is deathless — not I, not Viṣṇu, not Brahmā; even they are born from Śiva's body and pass away in their time. But if Mahādeva, the god of gods, is pleased with you, he can give you such a son.

Bones in an anthill

So Śilāda turned to Śiva. He did tapas day and night, and a thousand years of the gods went by like a moment. Ants and blood-sucking insects with needle-sharp mouths covered him; an anthill grew over him; his skin, flesh and blood wasted away until only his bones remained, sitting in the anthill, still absorbed in Śiva.

Śiva came with Pārvatī and said: I have come to give you a boon. But Śilāda was so deep in samādhi that he did not hear. Only when Śiva touched him with his own hand did he open his eyes — and seeing Śiva and Pārvatī, he fell at their feet and praised them, his voice choked with joy.

What need is there for more tapas? said Śiva. I give you a son who will know everything, who will understand every śāstra. Śilāda asked again: a son like you, Lord, not born of a womb and without death. And Śiva smiled. Long ago, he said, Brahmā, the gods and the sages worshipped me so that I would take birth. I will be born as your son, without a womb, and my name will be Nandī. And you will become the father of the father of the three worlds.

Born from the sacrificial field

Some time later Śilāda was ploughing the ground to prepare it for a sacrifice. Before the sacrifice could even begin, by Śiva's command, a child rose from Śilāda's body, blazing like the fire at the end of time — three-eyed, four-armed, with matted locks for a crown, holding a trident: a child in the form of Rudra himself.

Clouds rained, kinnaras and siddhas sang, the sages showered flowers; Brahmā, Viṣṇu, Śiva and Ambikā came with the gods and their wives, and the apsarās danced. Śilāda bowed to the child: you have filled me with joy — ānanda — so your name will be Nandī. I bow to you, the lord of the world, who are joy itself. And he carried the child home to his hut, as happy as a poor man who has found treasure.

The prophecy

In the hut, the child put aside his divine form and took a human body. His family wept to see it, but Śilāda performed all the rites of a son for him. By five, Nandī had learned the Vedas with all their limbs and all the śāstras.

When he had finished his seventh year, two sages, Mitra and Varuṇa, came to the hermitage — sent by Śiva. They looked at the boy again and again, and said: we have never seen or heard of anyone so learned as your son. But his life is short. We cannot see it lasting beyond this year.

Śilāda clung to his son and wailed; he and the boy's grandfather fell to the ground as if dead. Nandī, thinking of Śiva's lotus feet, was calm. Father, what is this grief? Gods, demons, Yama, Time itself — if they all tried to kill me, still I would not die young. I swear it by you. How? asked Śilāda. By what tapas, what knowledge, what yoga — or by whose power? Not by tapas and not by learning, said Nandī. I will conquer death only by worshipping Mahādeva. And he bowed at his father's feet, walked around him, and went away into the forest.

By the river

On the northern bank of a river, in a lonely place, Nandī sat and did tapas that even sages find impossible. In the lotus of his heart he meditated on Sadāśiva — five-faced, ten-armed, three-eyed, utterly peaceful — and repeated the Rudra mantra with his whole mind.

Śiva came with Pārvatī: son of Śilāda, I am pleased with you. Nandī bowed at his feet with tears in his eyes. Śiva lifted him up with both hands and said: my child, where is your fear of death? It was I who sent those two sages. You are like me. With your father and your friends, you are free from age and death and sorrow, for ever — my beloved gaṇapati, as strong as I am, always by my side.

Then Śiva took the garland of lotuses from his own head and put it around Nandī's neck. The moment it touched him, Nandī became three-eyed and ten-armed, like a second Śiva. Śiva took water from his own matted hair and sprinkled it, saying, become a river here — and five rivers sprang up: Jaṭodakā, Trisrotā, Vṛṣadhvani, Svarṇodakā and Jambū-nadī. That place, Pañcanada, beside the shrine of Japeśvara, is called holy.

Lord of the gaṇas

Śiva said to Pārvatī: I want to consecrate Nandī as lord of all the gaṇas. What do you say? Umā said: give it to him. From today this son of Śilāda is my own beloved son.

Śiva called his hosts, and countless gaṇeśvaras came, all in Śiva's likeness, asking what they should do — dry up the oceans? bind Yama? bring Indra or Viṣṇu in chains? Śiva laughed and said: Nandīśvara is my dearest son. Make him the first of all the gaṇas and the lord of all your lords. Then Brahmā himself consecrated Nandī, and after him Viṣṇu, Indra and the guardians of the world; the gods and even the asuras cried victory.

The gods also celebrated his marriage to Suyaśā, a daughter of the Maruts. Mahālakṣmī adorned him; the goddess gave him the necklace from her own throat. And Śiva said: where I am, there you will be; and where you are, there I will be.

Nandī asked Pārvatī for just one thing: steady devotion at her feet. Then Śiva lifted him onto the bull and took him home to his own abode. That is why, at every Śiva temple, Nandī sits facing the shrine — the son who is always where his father is.