The Story of Halahal
By: Anupriy Kanti
Tags: Fiction, Storytelling, Celebration, Mythology, Mahashivtatri

Mahashivratri | Mythological origins of the festival

As Parvati saw her husband breathe in the blue toxin, she noticed the world had started to heal.

This story is part of the new series which seeks to retell the mythological origins of certain festivals celebrated in India. While there has been a strong attempt to ensure there is some grounding by citing ancient literature, creative liberty has been taken in the narrative only to dramatize the events and add psychological depths to the characters. This may (or may not) infuse new meaning to the festival itself. The views are of my own expressed without the intention of hurting anyone’s belief. You can also read the retelling of the festival Onam (The Story of Three Paces), Durga Puja (The Story of Mahishāsurmardini) and Diwali (The Story of Return).

OVERVIEW

While the origin of Mahashivratri is hard to trace, many legends have come to be associated with the Great night of Shiva. Whether it is the time where He appeared as a pillar of fire humbling Vishnu and Brahma or when He and Parvati got married, each version reflects and reveres Shiva’s Supremacy. One legend explains the significance of celebrating this festival with regards to overcoming darkness and ignorance and why it is done so through the night.

STORY

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“Stop, My Lord! What are you doing?” Parvati screamed, halting Shiva on his way to enter the cosmic ocean.

Shiva did not turn back towards her. Looking straight at the dark blue fog that had enveloped the horizon, he said, “Making a choice. What the world needs me to do.”

On hearing her husband’s words, Parvati froze. She did not know what was worse — the fact that her premonition had come true or that Shiva was right.

Despite being Shakti herself, she still couldn’t believe the events that led up to this moment. Especially as she blamed herself partially for it.

How could she not? She recalled the moment as clearly as it had happened millions of years ago.

“Your anger takes more than it gives. The world doesn’t need it. It needs your compassion. Because one day, the fate of the world will depend on it.”

It was this complaint about Shiva’s uncontrollable rage, during a marital quarrel, that began the chain of events. If she hadn’t, he would not have been compelled to transfer his anger into Anasuya, who birthed the sage Durvasa, passing on the irritable temper. A temper that led to Durvasa cursing Indra and devas to lose all their power — something that the asuras took full advantage of under the leadership of their leader, Bali. Thus, began the war of gods that went on for eons until the carnage became too much for even the Primordial Trinity to ignore.

But it wasn’t going to be easy. The only way to bring them together was by providing them with a common goal. So, on the advice of Vishnu, both devas and asuras had mutually called for a truce to obtain Amrit (nectar of immortality) through Samudra Manthan (the churning of the ocean). But such a task could not be done with simple tools.

It was decreed that Mandar Parvat (mountain) was to be used as the churning rod while Vishnu himself had taken the avatar of (reincarnated as) Kurm (tortoise), submerging into the ocean deep to become the base for the mountain to spin on. Shiva, for his part, offered Vasuki, the serpent king he wore around his neck, as the rope to be tied around the mountain and for asuras and devas to pull from either end.

Throughout several millennia, this churning caused certain cosmic treasures to come out, but Amrit was nowhere to be seen. Thinking that it was only a matter of time, efforts were doubled, but no one noticed the toll it was taking on Vasuki. The rigorous heaving of his body by asuras and devas made the serpent king release a deadly toxin from its mouth called Halahal that soon began to spread around the cosmos, burning through its fabric. Chaos ensued as the three realms got engulfed in its poisonous fumes.

Standing at the banks of the cosmic ocean along with the Brahma, Saraswati, and Shiva, Parvati could see the developing damage at a distance. The worst effect could be witnessed at the scene of the crime where the dead corpses of many devas and asuras piled against Vasuki’s slithering body.

“All my creation! Everything…everyone…is getting destroyed by this poison. Is there anyone who can save my creation?”, Brahma wailed helplessly.

“I will”, a calm voice answered.

Everyone turned to see Shiva walking towards the ocean when Parvati tried to stop him before getting her answer.

She snapped back to the present just in time to see Shiva opened his mouth and sucked in the air. Dark blue fumes of Halahal across the world started to rush towards him.

As Parvati saw her husband breathe in the blue toxin, she noticed the world had started to heal. Everything — and everyone — that had been touched by the poison was reviving!

All the devas and asuras began waking up and upon realizing what was happening, started applauding and praising Mahadev. Given that even inhaling the smallest amount of Halahal was enough to asphyxiate any divine being to death, it was clear now more so than ever that Shiva was no mere god. Worshipped as a Supreme Being, he was one of three Primordial Gods who had been there since the creation of the cosmos. And while he was not always interacting with the world, he was there to protect it when it really mattered.

But while all were busy rejoicing and celebrating, Parvati noticed that something was wrong. Shiva was closing his eyes, as if almost in a trance, and his face was turning blue. The Halahal was burning him from the inside.

Could this be the end of him? Parvati wondered. No! she wasn’t going to let that happen.

In a blink of a moment, she magically appeared next to her husband and grabbed his neck before the poison went down any further into his body. So, sturdy was her clasp that Halahal began to clot around the throat, leaving a glowing blue tinge along his jugular veins.

“I am with you to end. And I know this is not it. The world is safe again. So please come back to me. Come back to us all.”

Hearing his wife’s soulful divine voice, Shiva slowly opened his eyes and noticed her — as if for the first time. Both did not speak a word but expressed whatever needed to be said through a look. It took them a moment to realize that they weren’t alone anymore. Brahma, Saraswati, Vishnu and along with all devas and asuras surrounded him, each with an expression of total admiration and awe.

And then Brahma declared, “As a token of our appreciation and Devi Parvati’s intervention, you shall henceforth be also known as Neelkanth (Bluethroat). Let this night forever be in celebration of Mahadev Shiv Shankar. For those who shall remember him on throughout this special night can overcome any negativity and obstacle just as he did for the world.”

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