Storytelling Week 5: Arjuna's Gifts Part 1

Author's Note:

This one was a ton of fun to write!

For my storytelling this week, I wanted to do something different from what I had already done. I was instantly attracted to the scene in the Mahabharata where Arjuna receives a weapon from every God through his meditations. However, I was worried it might be too similar to my previous stories involving mediation. So for starters, I changed the style of mediation to better fit a warrior like Arjuna.

Secondly, I used a lot more creativity on this one. It's quite different from the original story. For starters, I streamlined it a bit, so instead of Arjuna meeting every God in the course of his meditations, he meet them all in one place. I also shifted the order of his meetings as well. I used Wikipedia to read traditional descriptions of each God, then made up my own based on what inspired me the most. I tried to make each God's appearance impart a sense of wonder, one that also fits with his or her domains and specialties.

I had a lot of fun crafting all the powers too. You'll have to stay tuned for Part 2 when Arjuna actually gets to use them all in battle!

Arjuna's Gifts:

Arjuna stole into the forest glade with his bow drawn and ready. His senses were alert, his mind still and sharp as his arrow. Arjuna liked to think of hunting as inverse meditation. Instead of focusing inward, he made a habit of flinging his awareness out to every rock and tree, constantly aware of every minute change in his surroundings.

Aware of nothing but the forest around him, Arjuna forgot himself. He was the gentle susurrus of rustling leaves, the creak of boles, the scurry of woodland creatures, the beating of a monarch's wings.

A new sound materialized in the forest so suddenly it jolted Arjuna back into his own person. An arrow whizzed past his ear, so close the feathers gave him carpet burn along the cheek.

Laughter pervaded the glade as Arjuna crouched and held his bow in ready defiance.

A hunter stepped out from behind a shroud of foliage, clad in naught but deer hide and leaves. He was laughing haughtily. His skin was a brilliant pale blue.

"And who are you," said Arjuna, "to test my might? I am the sun of Indra, and no mortal wields a weapon better than I."

"I suppose I should be thankful I am no mortal, then," said the hunter.

Arjuna lowered his bow, confused. Then his lips twisted in horror as the hunter's form shimmered like a mirage. The surrounding forest melted away even as the hunter grew taller. Suddenly, in place of the hunter, Arjuna found his entire field of vision taken up by the blue-skinned, many-armed Lord of Destruction, Shiva.

Arjuna fell instantly to his knees and began prostrating himself.

"Arjuna," boomed the Lord of Destruction. It sounded like his voice was crackling from within the bowels of a bonfire the size of a continent. "You have been chosen to receive the gifts of the Gods. Recite the Pratismriti and claim your sacred rights."

Arjuna did so, and instantly found himself in the grandest palatial court he had ever seen. Massive purple pillars stretched for as far as the eye could see, seemingly into infinity itself. In place of a ceiling, galaxies and nebulae drifted lazily above his head. The gods were assembled before him.

He could not bow low enough. Suddenly he felt naked and vulnerable against their all-powerful energy.

Yama stepped before him and Arjuna locked eyes with the God of Death. Yama's eyes were like slitted windows, and through them Arjuna could see into the lives of a thousand men and women. He watched each of them die, the moment their lives were snuffed out in real time, each separately yet somehow all together in a single instance. Arjuna clutched his head and nearly cried out of sheer loss.

He did not look up from the floor when Yama finally spoke. "Arjuna," said the God of Death, "you have killed before. You have seen firsthand the devastation wrought by your arrows. For you, I give a different sort of gift." Yama extended his open palm. "An arrow which brings its victim back from my kingdom. Use it sparingly, and only in moments of deep regret."

Yama blessed him and faded away.

Next came Varuna, the God of the Celestial Ocean. He rode in on the back of a Makara, and elephant-dragon with the mighty tail of a fish and fins of peacock feathers. Varuna's earrings were two deep jugs of water, each pouring seamlessly into the other, arching over Varuna's head like a crown of sprouting waterfalls.

"Arjuna," said the God of Water, "you have already received one gift of mine, when I strung a thread across the crescent moon and pulled it down for you. Gandiva, the moon bow, fits well into your hand. I am pleased. You already have my favor; now take this." And Varuna held out his open palm. "It is an arrow most special. The fletching is made of waterfalls, and a roaring river will spread in its wake."

Varuna blessed him and faded away.

Next came a huge palanquin supported upon the backs of ten thousand slaves. It was larger than most castles, wrought of mahogany and gold with opal inlays. Upon it, atop a cushion woven of threads a single atom thick (for an astronomically high thread count), was the fattest God Arjuna had ever seen: Kubera, of the round cheeks and heavy pockets.

"Arjuna," said the God of Wealth, "you are a prince of great means. Your home is a glittering jewel in the heart of the desert, your riches nearly as innumerable as my own. But there is one treasure of which you still lack." Kubera extended a pudgy palm forward. "It is my gift. Take it. Simply strike a pocket with this arrow, and it will overflow with endless gold coins."

And so it went. From every God and Goddess assembled, Arjuna received a great and powerful gift to use in the upcoming battle.

Finally, it was Lord Shiva's turn. The God of Destruction came before him and said, "Arjuna, you have received gifts from us all, and so it falls to me to give you the greatest amongst them. I have no physical object to impart, for that is the essence of destruction; it cannot be encapsulated in any form of creation. But with it, you shall hold the power to destroy the very universe. Behold, I give you the power of Pashupatastra. Merely invoke its name, and its destructive power shall surge through your mind, eyes, throat, and bow. The power to destroy any and all forms of creation. Use this gift only against a foe of tremendous power, when all your other gifts have failed you and your hope has left you."

Arjuna, fully infused with all his godly gifts

Arjuna bowed deeply, praying to each and every God who had visited to him. He bowed a hundred times, a thousand, and by the time he was done, he looked around and found he was alone in the celestial court.

Behind him, the palace doors swung inward, and a blinding light swept into the vacuous court. A silhouette stood in the doorway.

"My son," said the King of the Gods, "I have long awaited this moment."

Arjuna could not believe his eyes. It was Indra. At last, his father stood before him.

"Come with me, my son, and I will give to you your final gift. The gift of drink and dance, of song and celebration. Come my son, and I will show you the gift of eternal joy. Come and look upon Heaven with your own eyes."

And Arjuna went.

Link to PART TWO

Bibliography:

Narayan, R.K. The Mahabharata: a Shortened Modern Prose Version of the Indian Epic. 2013, the University of Chicago Press.

Several Wikipedia Articles:

Yama
Varuna
Makara
Kubera