Disappearing deities

The Padmanabha temple at Trivandrum has an 18 feet long idol of Vishnu; reclining on the coiled serpent Ananta Naga or Adi Sesha with a lotus rising from his navel on which sits Brahma, the creator god (more on the iconography later). It is a fabulous work of art and a rich source of story.

There are two texts that tell us about how the idol came to be the way it is and where it is today. One is the Ananthasayana Mahatmya (AM) and the other, the temple records of Granthavali.

The story in the AM is particularly interesting. It says that the idol was created and installed by a sage called Divakar from Mangalore, an ardent Vishnu devotee.

One day, during his daily prayers, Divakar saw a two year old boy playing under a tree. Drawn towards the child for some inexplicable reason, the sage took him home. And the two grew close.

Divakar, worried that the boy would disappear as suddenly as he had arrived, begged him never to leave. The boy agreed but under one condition: Divakar could not question any thing that the child did. Any sign of displeasure or, anger at the boy’s behaviour would lead to his departure.

Divakar agreed but as is typical in such stories, could not keep up his end of the bargain.

One day while he was busy with his prayers, the boy, in a deliberate act of provocation bit the shaligram (a black stone believed to be a symbol of Vishnu, found in the Gandaki River in Nepal).

An angry Divakar lost control and broke his contract. The child disappeared but he told the sage that if he wished to see him, he would have to come to Ananthan Kadu (the spot at which the temple stands today in Trivandrum). Divakar followed him to the place and saw him getting into a large tree. Before he could reach out and grab the child, the tree crashed to the ground in the form of the sleeping Vishnu.

This story carries a motif extremely common to marchën(folktales with magic or supernatural elements and which typically begin with ‘once upon a time’ according to the Encyclopaedia Britannica) all over the world. It has been used in German folklore, in Native American tales and in Indian myths with great impact. Typically a divine being agrees to wed or live with a mortal under a condition which, if flouted will lead to disastrous consequences. Invariably the mortal falls short and the god has to leave but not without leaving a part of himself or herself behind – either in the form of a child or a special power or an idol.

Andrew Lang, anthropologist, poet and novelist says (in his book Custom and Myth, available online under project Gutenberg), the motif of the disappearing deity who appears as wife or child is a common one and has been interpreted in different ways by different mythologists.

It could be perhaps, as Max Mueller has hinted in his interpretation of the popular myth of Bheki (will upload this one soon) that the myths refer to the disappearance of the sun at the end of the day, every day. Maybe, but this is not the only interpretation. It could be, as GS Kirk points out in his analysis of the Gilgamesh myth that myths reflect social and cultural dilemmas. It is possible, using this rationale, that the motif reflects a common concern over the separation between the world of the gods and the world of men. It is based on the belief that an act of folly drove the gods away from us. It may also be a projection of a common perception of that time that man had everything in his grasp, even immortality, but lost it all because he was unable to keep his word or do what was expected of him.

These are but mere conjectures. I’ll be uploading similar stories, common to civilisations separated by geography but united in their antiquity, in subsequent posts. Let’s see if we can decipher the hidden code in their overlapping patterns. And perhaps, get closer to understanding the people who lived these stories.

(Image: shaligram stone)