A hero needs a demon, be it the Greek myths and epics or those of Vedic times. Some monsters are hybrid beasts and some are forces of nature, but they all meet their end at the hands of gods and heroes. In today's conflicted times it may be pertinent to look at what makes the demons outcastes and what brought about their end.
The goddess takes centre stage this month in India with two festivals in her honour. Durga, who is worshipped in Bengal is also known as Mahishasuramardini (buffalo slayer), is asked by the gods to rescue them from the oppressive rule of the demon king Mahisha. The king is a shape shifter and when he battles the goddess he assumes several forms including that of an elephant, a crocodile and, finally, a buffalo which precipitates his death. In the Markendeya Purana, where the battle is described in detail, Durga kills the demon in a frenzy. She beheads him and then drinks his blood. In the many texts that carry the many versions of this story, there is one common theme; Mahishasura's pride led to his fall.
A similar sentiment is echoed in the Ramayana. It is not that Ravana was evil; he was a good king, a devoted father, son and a devout follower of Shiva. But it was his pride (and lust) that led to the abduction of Sita and the rest is well known.
In many folktales and legends, proud women are made to know their place, while men are shown the foolishness of their ways. This is quite evident in a folktale from Maharashtra that talks about Draupadi's pride.
The story goes that towards the end of their exile, while the Pandavas settled down near a lake for a brief stay, Draupadi thought that she was amongst the luckiest of all the wives on earth. A sati, dedicated to her husbands, always accompanied and protected by them, she thought that few were as great as she was. She grew proud, the story says, and Krishna saw that. So a test was put to her.
One day when her husbands were asleep, she plucked a jambhul (roseapple) off a tree close to their settlement and was about to eat it when Krishna appeared. She had sinned by taking the fruit, he told her, because it was the meal of a sage who fasted through the day and was considered all powerful by the gods and the demons. Distraught, Draupadi asked for his help and Krishna said that the fruit would have to be reattached to the tree and that could happen if the five Pandavas and Draupadi revealed a secret known to none. The five brothers duly obliged and the fruit rose up, as predicted by Krishna, coming close to the branch from which it had hung. It was Draupadi's turn and she said the only secret desire she harboured was that her husbands should slay the Kauravas and their widows should be made to lament in public. To the surprise of all present, the fruit fell to the earth. Pressured by the rest, Draupadi had to find some other secret and she blurted out that she wished Karna was Kunti's son, then she would have him for a husband, too. Before anyone could react, the jambhul stuck to the branch.
Interestingly, Krishna slays pride in all he meets, be it Indra, who had become a tyrant and inflicted his subjects with torrential rains if they failed to worship him, or Sishupala, who believed that he was the most powerful king to rule earth. Krishna's heroic mission seems to have been to crush hubris. As leaders of all shades extol the virtues of our past and invoke the gods to bless their actions and bring down their foes, it may be a good time to check the pride that swells their chest to unrealistic proportions.
The goddess takes centre stage this month in India with two festivals in her honour. Durga, who is worshipped in Bengal is also known as Mahishasuramardini (buffalo slayer), is asked by the gods to rescue them from the oppressive rule of the demon king Mahisha. The king is a shape shifter and when he battles the goddess he assumes several forms including that of an elephant, a crocodile and, finally, a buffalo which precipitates his death. In the Markendeya Purana, where the battle is described in detail, Durga kills the demon in a frenzy. She beheads him and then drinks his blood. In the many texts that carry the many versions of this story, there is one common theme; Mahishasura's pride led to his fall.
A similar sentiment is echoed in the Ramayana. It is not that Ravana was evil; he was a good king, a devoted father, son and a devout follower of Shiva. But it was his pride (and lust) that led to the abduction of Sita and the rest is well known.
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Hubris is a demon even in Greek legend. The tragic story of Niobe is a case in point. She is said to have been extremely proud of her 14 children and bragged about them to Leto, mother of the divine twins Apollo and Artemis. In fact, Niobe said she was superior to Leto because she had 14 children, not just two. The twins avenged their mother's insult by killing all Niobe's children. With her family all gone, Niobe pleaded with the gods to put an end to her life too and Zeus turned her into a stone, so that she would have no feelings anymore.
In many folktales and legends, proud women are made to know their place, while men are shown the foolishness of their ways. This is quite evident in a folktale from Maharashtra that talks about Draupadi's pride.
The story goes that towards the end of their exile, while the Pandavas settled down near a lake for a brief stay, Draupadi thought that she was amongst the luckiest of all the wives on earth. A sati, dedicated to her husbands, always accompanied and protected by them, she thought that few were as great as she was. She grew proud, the story says, and Krishna saw that. So a test was put to her.
One day when her husbands were asleep, she plucked a jambhul (roseapple) off a tree close to their settlement and was about to eat it when Krishna appeared. She had sinned by taking the fruit, he told her, because it was the meal of a sage who fasted through the day and was considered all powerful by the gods and the demons. Distraught, Draupadi asked for his help and Krishna said that the fruit would have to be reattached to the tree and that could happen if the five Pandavas and Draupadi revealed a secret known to none. The five brothers duly obliged and the fruit rose up, as predicted by Krishna, coming close to the branch from which it had hung. It was Draupadi's turn and she said the only secret desire she harboured was that her husbands should slay the Kauravas and their widows should be made to lament in public. To the surprise of all present, the fruit fell to the earth. Pressured by the rest, Draupadi had to find some other secret and she blurted out that she wished Karna was Kunti's son, then she would have him for a husband, too. Before anyone could react, the jambhul stuck to the branch.
Interestingly, Krishna slays pride in all he meets, be it Indra, who had become a tyrant and inflicted his subjects with torrential rains if they failed to worship him, or Sishupala, who believed that he was the most powerful king to rule earth. Krishna's heroic mission seems to have been to crush hubris. As leaders of all shades extol the virtues of our past and invoke the gods to bless their actions and bring down their foes, it may be a good time to check the pride that swells their chest to unrealistic proportions.