Hi Guys. This is the first part of a series about Lord Shiva that I’m starting. If you like it and want me to continue it; please like, comment and follow my blog.
At one side of the world Rudra opened his eyes; all of them. He didn’t know how long he had been walking in the heavy rainfall. Around him the bone chilling snow came up to his knees. He should’ve felt cold but didn’t. He should’ve frozen solid but didn’t. He should’ve never walked out of home in that blizzard but he did. There were many things that should’ve happened but hadn’t. Something else had to happen that night.
Rudra couldn’t remember anything of the last few hours except the sudden urge. The sudden urge to get out of the house and go. But not anywhere. Somewhere, his insides were urging him to go.
Rudra stood to catch his breath. He had been running all along he realized. With his hand on the bark of a tree he raised his gaze slowly from the ground. Beyond the foliage, he could see the silhouette of his destination. Letting his eyes drift further upwards he looked at the proud Devdars; some of whom had been standing there for more years than he had been alive.
Even they looked confused. What was a human doing in a place where even the Gods didn’t dare to come? The leaves rustled and flew away in the violent wind that the storm had brought with it.
For some reason the mighty trees didn’t resist. His aura was strangely familiar for the silent spectators of the eternal night. It was like they knew him; like they had felt this hand before. As if this sensation, the mark of his hand, had been passed down through the generations of Devdars before them. After all they were Devdar – the wood of the Gods.
Suddenly his vision went blue. For a split second all he saw was blue. He almost toppled down the cliff he had been climbing for the past four hours. After two painfully confusing seconds his vision came back to the blurry torrents of water pouring down on him. He wanted to cry, he wanted to fall down; but the urge, the hunger didn’t let him. A voice kept reverberating in his head.
I have to reach there. She is waiting.
He jerked forward from the tree’s support, balancing his body as best as he could. He didn’t know why he was walking or where he was walking to; just that he had to. After trudging for another couple of hours in -15 degree Celsius he collapsed and came down on his knees. This time when he raised his eyes he could see clearly where he had reached. Or dare he say been brought to. Amidst a galore of relatively small mountains, a giant peak rose to the sky. It was snow clad to the last stone; so much so that it looked made of ice. The chilling wind bothered his eyes, but not as much as it should have. He looked at the abode of the greatest God four millenniums of Hindu scriptures had seen.
An avid climber, Rudra had always wanted to come here but his father had never let him. “It’s very dangerous,” he said every time he asked. “No one can climb it my son. Not even you.”
And then his mother’s mocking but devotional sound would chirp from the kitchen, “No one can climb the Kailash my son. There is only one who can.”
There is only one who can.
The sound of his mother kept humming in his mind. It was the last thing he heard before he fainted.