The Bull in the Underworld

A pride to be broken

Nandīśvara, telling Sanatkumāra of Śiva's many descents, comes to one he calls Vṛṣeśvara, the Lord as a Bull. It is a play of Śiva's, he says, whose purpose was to take away the pride of Viṣṇu himself. To tell it, he has to begin with the churning of the ocean.

The churning, as this chapter tells it

The full story of the churning and the poison is told elsewhere on this site, in “The Poison and the Blue Throat”. Here the Śiva Purāṇa tells it briefly, in its own way, and only a few details matter for what follows.

The gods and the asuras, both afraid of old age and death, made a truce to win the treasures of the Ocean of Milk. While they wondered how to churn it, a voice from the sky, deep as thunder, spoke at Śiva's command: churn it, and you will be given the strength and the wit to do it. Make Mount Mandara the churning rod and the serpent Vāsuki the rope, and work together with respect.

They went to Mandara, golden and straight, won the mountain's consent and pulled it up with their own arms. But their strength was not enough. The great weight slipped from their hands and fell on them, and they lay stunned. When they came to, they praised the Lord of the world, and by his will they lifted the mountain again, carried it to the northern shore and set it in the sea. Then, with Vāsuki as the rope, the churning began.

Out of the ocean came Mahālakṣmī, then Dhanvantari, the moon, the Pārijāta tree, the horse Uccaiḥśravas, the elephant Airāvata, wine, Viṣṇu's bow Śārṅga, the conch, Kāmadhenu and other cows, the Kaustubha jewel and the nectar. Churned again, the sea gave up the great poison Kālakūṭa, blazing like the fire at the end of time.

One more thing rose, and the whole story turns on it. Drops that splashed out as the nectar appeared became women — millions of them, the Purāṇa says, with faces like the autumn moon, shining like lightning and fire, adorned with necklaces and armlets, so lovely that the world went mad at the sight of them.

The treasures were shared out. Viṣṇu took Lakṣmī, the conch, the Kaustubha and a sword; the Sun took the horse; Indra took the Pārijāta and Airāvata. Śiva, out of love for the gods, took the Kālakūṭa into his throat and the moon onto his head. The demons, bewildered by the Lord's māyā, took the wine; humankind took Dhanvantari the physician; the sages took Kāmadhenu. The women were left belonging to no one.

The nectar and the war

Then the gods and demons fought for the nectar, and the demons, led by Bali and blazing like the doomsday fire, overpowered the gods and seized it. The gods ran to Śiva for refuge, and at Śiva's command Viṣṇu took the form of an enchanting woman — Mohinī — and won the nectar back by guile, and gave it to the gods to drink. The demons, under Śiva's spell, even handed the nectar over to her themselves, asking only that no one be left out of the line.

Meanwhile the leading demons saw the women born of the nectar and carried them off to their own cities — cities built by the demon architect Maya, a hundred times lovelier than heaven and guarded by strong machines. They left the women there untouched and swore an oath: if the gods defeat us, we will never even touch them. Then they rushed out to war, roaring and blowing their conches until the sky seemed full.

It was the great war of gods and demons, famous in all three worlds. Guarded on every side by Viṣṇu, the gods won. Many demons were killed; some were bewildered by the gods and Viṣṇu; and those who lived fled into Pātāla, the underworld, and into the clefts of the earth.

Viṣṇu in Pātāla

Viṣṇu, discus in hand, followed them down into Pātāla, where they cowered in fear. And there he saw the women born of the nectar, with their full-moon faces, proud of their divine beauty. He was enchanted. He stayed with them, took his pleasure with them, and found his rest there.

With them he fathered many sons — mighty, skilled in war, so strong that the earth shook under them. And these sons of Viṣṇu began to rampage, bringing great misery to heaven and to earth alike.

The sages and gods, seeing the whole world troubled, went to Brahmā, and Brahmā took them to Kailāsa. Bowing again and again with folded hands, crying “Victory to you, God of gods, Mahādeva, Lord of all”, he praised Śiva and said: save the worlds from Viṣṇu's sons, who are in Pātāla, changed and out of control. And Viṣṇu himself, lord, has lost his balance — his heart is caught by the women born of the nectar, and he is down there with them now.

So Brahmā, the gods and the sages praised Śiva at length, to protect the worlds and to bring Viṣṇu back from the underworld. And Śiva, the ocean of compassion, hearing what had happened, took the form of a bull.

The bull

Bellowing with a terrible roar, Śiva the bearer of the Pināka bow entered the cave-mouth of Pātāla in the form of a bull. At the sound, the towns and cities there began to fall, and everyone who lived in them trembled.

He came face to face with Viṣṇu's sons — huge, strong, and lost in Śiva's own māyā — who stood with bows raised for battle. They flew into a rage, roared, and charged at him. The bull grew angry too, and tore them apart with his hooves and horns, and the foolish sons soon lay lifeless.

When his sons were dead, Viṣṇu, strongest of the strong, came rushing out with a great roar, and seeing the bull leaving after the slaughter, he attacked it with arrows and divine weapons. The bull, enraged, simply swallowed the weapons. Then he gave a roar that shook the three worlds.

Viṣṇu, maddened by anger and, in his ignorance, not knowing his own Lord, came on. The bull leapt at him again and again and gored and trampled him with horns and hooves. Viṣṇu, deluded by māyā, could not bear the blows. His mind went slack, his body ached, his pride was broken, and he fell senseless. And then he knew who the bull was.

Viṣṇu's apology

Recognising Śiva, Viṣṇu folded his hands, bowed his head and spoke in a deep voice. God of gods, Mahādeva, ocean of compassion, he said: my mind was twisted because I was bewildered by your māyā. I have fought with you, my own master. Be gracious and forgive me this offence.

Śiva, who loves his devotees, heard the humble words and answered. Viṣṇu, you who are so wise — why did you not know me? Where did all your knowledge go, that you could fight me today? Why did you forget that your strength depends on me? Do not do this again; stop now.

You are lost in these women, he went on. How can one ruled by desire keep his wisdom? This does not become you, lord of the gods. Simply to remember you is enough to carry the world across.

Ashamed in his heart at words that gave him back his understanding, Viṣṇu said respectfully: Lord, my discus Sudarśana is here. I will take it, and, obeying your command, go back to my own world.

But the bull, the guardian of dharma, said: do not delay, Hari. Go to your world at once, by my command — and leave the discus here. I am pleased with your good words, and I will give you another discus, quite different, and more terrible, that dwells in the radiant Sāntānika world.

And Śiva brought forth a discus blazing like the fire of time, bright as ten thousand suns, a destroyer of the wicked, and gave it to Viṣṇu, the protector of gods and sages.

The closed door

Viṣṇu took this second Sudarśana and turned to the gods who were there. Listen to me, he said, and do as I say quickly; it will be for your good. Go into Pātāla and take those divine women for yourselves, as you wish. Hearing this, the gods were eager to go down into the underworld with him.

But Śiva knew what they were thinking, and in anger he laid a terrible curse on all eight orders of divine beings. Anyone who enters this place, he said, will die that very moment — except a peaceful sage born of a portion of me, and the dānavas. Hearing this dreadful word, which in fact protected humankind, and finding themselves forbidden, the gods went back to their own homes.

So, through the power of his own māyā, Śiva disciplined Viṣṇu, who had become attached to those women. Viṣṇu returned to the world of the gods, and the world was at peace. And Śiva, the bull who loves his devotees, having done the gods' work, went home to Mount Kailāsa.

Nandīśvara closes by calling this the Vṛṣeśvara avatāra, the remover of Viṣṇu's ignorance, a blessing that brings happiness to the three worlds. The Purāṇa says the story is purifying and drives away the trouble of enemies; it brings heaven, fame, long life and enjoyment to the good, and whoever hears it, tells it or reads it with devotion and care enjoys every happiness and at the end attains liberation.