The Battle Commences

Sanatkumara said

The daitya came on, drunk, eyes rolling, striding like a huge rutting elephant, great in feeling and terrible in valour, with many soldiers behind him, pierced by the arrows of desire. He saw the cave, where Viraka blocked his way. He looked at Viraka as a moth looks at a flame, took him for something gentle, and dropped on him like an insect. Viraka struck him again and again, but Andhaka, scorched by the fire of passion, did not even feel the blows. Terrible rocks, trees, vajras, water, fire, snakes and other weapons hit him and he did not hit back. Viraka struck him once more and asked who he was and why he had come. Andhaka named himself and began to fight Viraka. Something wonderful and unfathomable happened: in a short time the daitya was beaten by someone stronger and left the field. Hungry, thirsty, his throat dry, his fine sword broken, he fled, dejected and astonished. The chief daityas then fought Viraka, with Prahlada in front. Though terrible and armed with hundreds of weapons, their minds were pricked by shame. Virochana, Bali, Bana, Sahasrabahu, Bhaji, Kujambha, Shambara, Vritra and other valiant ones fought, and were beaten. On every side the gana Viraka cut them in two. Many danavas died, and troops of siddhas cried victory. Jackals began to dance among fat, marrow, flesh and pus. Predators filled the place and the blood made a foul mire, and the daityas were routed.

Bhagavan, the wielder of the Pinaka, spoke to Dakshayani and calmed her. He told her that earlier he had kept the great and terrible pashupata vow, and that its strength had been spent in this clash between mortals and immortals. Day and night, he said, around her there were planets that make merit decay, and wonderful divine omens had turned terrible again. So he would keep a vow even more terrible, and she should not grieve, for she would be safe. In a slow, deep voice he said this and went to an extremely holy and terrible forest to keep that fierce, radiant vow, and for a thousand years he practised austerities no other god or asura could. Parvati stayed on Mount Mandara awaiting Bhava, devoted to her husband and of good conduct. Alone and constantly afraid inside the cave, miserable, she was guarded by her son Viraka.

Andhaka, drunk on his boon, came back to the mouth of the stone cave with his best warriors, his patience spent. Enraged, he forgot food, drink and sleep and fought Viraka day and night with his soldiers for five hundred and five years. The daityas used swords, lances, catapults, maces, bhushundis, chariots, trunks, iron-headed arrows, crescent-headed arrows, arrows a span long, tortoise-headed arrows, the best iron arrows, sharp spears, battle-axes, javelins, clubs, bludgeons, mountains, trees and divine weapons. Struck by what the daityas hurled, Viraka lost his senses and fell at the cave mouth, his body mangled, and he and the heap of weapons covered the entrance so that no light entered. In a short while, though, the daityas were able to uncover it. Devi saw the terrible sons of Diti and, afraid, she and her friends remembered Brahma and Vishnu. Inside the cave she also called to mind all the gods' soldiers, the foremost of the brave.

As soon as they were remembered Brahma and Vishnu came, in female forms, and Indra came too with all the soldiers, all in female form. Many great sages, powerful siddhas, nagas and guhyakas entered the cave where the mountain king's daughter was, all as women, since in the gods' realm men did not enter inner quarters. They took thousands upon thousands of broad-hipped forms, wonderful, brave and divine, and went in. The crowd of women entering Gouri's cave made a noise like clouds thundering at the end of a kalpa. They sounded drums of victory and blew their conches. Viraka, terrible in valour, recovered his senses and stood in front of them. Brahmi opposed the daityas with a staff in hand, while Gouri was full of rage. Narayani held a conch, a mace, a discus and a strung bow. Bidoujasi, the Shakti of Indra, came out with a plough-rod and a vajra, her hair spread through the sky and her colour like gold, thousands of showers flowing from her fierce speed. The thousand-eyed one was unconquerable and fought steadily, striking hundreds of daityas. The fire-goddess Vaishvanari had an unpleasant face, and fierce Yamya raised a staff. Nairriti advanced with a terrible bow and a sharp sword. Toyalika came out to fight holding Varuna's noose. The goddess who was the power behind a terrible storm took the form of hunger and held a goad. The one born of Dhanada took up a club, in the form of the fire at the end of a kalpa. Yaksheshvari, sharp-mouthed and misshapen, used her nails as weapons and was as fearsome as a naga. Hundreds of other goddesses came out and filled the field.

Seeing that endless host, Devi was amazed and her face paled. She was frightened and low in spirit, but the Shaktis, led by Brahma's, and the brave commander Viraka comforted her. The foremost daityas turned their minds to the coming great battle, thinking that retreat before women was like death, while others were spirited because of their boons. Making Viraka, wonderful in intelligence and prowess, their commander, Gouri and her friends fought an extraordinary battle. Hiranyanetra's son remembered Vishnu, looked to the south, and then planned a great, excellent, terrible formation, placing Gila in front, who, having served Brahma, could make its mouth fierce.

Meanwhile Bhagavan arrived, like a thousand terrible suns rising at the end of a kalpa, angry and clad in hides, returned after a thousand years. The women rejoiced at the sight of Maheshvara and, with Viraka, fought a very great battle. Gouri bowed her head to Girisha and showed her husband her great valour. Seeing Gouri fighting, Hara embraced the mountain king's daughter, took her into the cave and told the thousands of women to leave. Gouri honoured and worshipped Viraka in hundreds of ways and set him at the cave's mouth.

The lord of asuras, skilled in policy, could see neither Gouri nor Girisha, and decided as a gesture of friendship to send his own messenger to Shiva. The messenger's body had been badly mangled by the blows of gods and ganas, so though he entered and bowed his head to Shambhu, his words were haughty. He said he had been sent by Andhaka, who said: "You have nothing to do with a woman, so release this young, beautiful lady. You are generally an ascetic, so my gentle mind pardoned you, thinking one should not oppose a sage. But you are no sage or ascetic; you are an enemy, a great adversary of the daityas. Show me your force and crush me in battle, cunning ascetic, and I will send you to Patala, or to Yama's eternal abode." Hearing these words, the one with the garland of skulls spoke in anger, he who checks the insolent advance of the wicked, his big third eye blazing in sorrow. Shiva said the words spoken were truly fierce, and so, if the daityas could stand and had strength, they should advance and fight. What business did the incapable have with fair wives and wealth on earth? Let the strong, intoxicated daityas come. He had already thought this through. An incapable man cannot even hold up his body. Let them do what was ordained for them, and he would certainly do what he had to. Hearing the lord, the messenger left gladly and went back, roaring and boasting, to the daitya lord.