Tales froM Indian Mythology

Author(s): A S Raman
Publisher: Kutub Popular

Page 79

Yama and Markandeya
51
and serene in the posture of the Yogis, nonchalantly chanting hymns addressed to Mahesa, as hungry vultures hovered over them and restive jackals howled in the valey.
It was midnight and a wild storm broke out. Rocks, rivers and ravines—they all at once became its accomplices and began to spell ruin to everything that came their way. And the God of Death rejoiced that at last his moment had arrived, and he could strike the holy pair lost in contemplation. Perhaps he would, for the very mountain on the top of which they were sitting threatened to cave in. Suddenly a cloud roared and rumbled, and it was a thunder, the like of which Mrikandu and Marudwati had heard in none of the long and lurid succession of storms they had miraculously survived. They opened their eyes for the first time in many, many years, and lo ! Shiva himself was standing in front of them. They rose and prostrated themselves before him singing his glory.
"O noble and exalted couple," began the Supreme Lord, "I am moved by the purity and intensity of your prayers addressed to me. Tell me, how can I reward your devotion adequately?”
"We are not able to believe our own eyes and ears, Mahadeva," replied Mrikandu. "There is no craving in our hearts, let me assure you. But, we implore you, be merciful and prevent damnation that awaits a couple who have no son.”
"Mrikandu, I appreciate your anxiety to see that your progeny continues. And I can bless you with, not one son, but a hundred, but you will not be proud of any one of them. Or do you want just one son, worthy of you and your great ancestors? You may have him, but he shall die on his sixteenth hirthday. Whom would you prefer?"