novelraw Arc 2 - Hrada-Praveśa Parva - Chapter 5 - The divine investiture of Kumāra—Skanda
Arc 2 - Hrada-Praveśa Parva - Chapter 5 - The divine investiture of Kumāra—Skanda
Vaiśampāyana said:
O king of men, thy question is worthy of the house of Kuru, for none save the noblest of hearts would yearn to hear of the divine investiture of Kumāra—Skanda, the war-born son of Fire and Śiva, who became the general of the gods. Listen now, O Janamejaya, to this tale of wondrous birth and heavenly enthronement, as once it was sung by the seers.
In ancient time, when Rudra, the great god of gods, released his fiery seed, it fell not upon earth nor sky but into blazing flame itself. Yet Agni—the devourer of all things—could not consume that essence, for it was the very radiance of Śiva, indestructible and pure. Instead, the fire-god bore it within himself, glowing like the heart of the sun, until its might became too great for him to contain.
By Brahmā’s command, Agni cast the seed into the river Gaṅgā. But she, too, trembled at its brilliance and could not bear its power. Therefore, she carried it to the snowy breast of Himavat and laid it there, upon golden reeds kissed by the light of heaven. There, the divine embryo ripened, and from it was born a child whose radiance filled the worlds.
The six Kṛttikās—celestial mothers of the constellations—beheld the wondrous infant lying upon the sacred heath. Each, longing for motherhood, cried out, “This child is mine!” Smiling, the babe assumed six faces and drank from all their breasts at once. Thus he became Ṣaṇmukha, the six-faced one, and Kārttikeya, son of the Kṛttikās.
The mountain itself shone like molten gold from the touch of his feet, and the earth rejoiced, bearing new ores in her bosom. For this reason, O king, the hills became givers of gold. The child, also called Gaṅgeya for his birth through the river, grew swiftly—serene in spirit, beautiful as the moon, and radiant as the midday sun.
Around him gathered Gandharvas and celestial maidens, singing songs of praise; ascetics bowed in reverence, and the Earth herself held him gently in her arms. Ganga served him; Brihaspati, preceptor of the gods, performed his birth rites; and the Vedas, taking form as four radiant beings, stood before him with folded palms.
The science of arms came to him personified, bearing all weapons and shafts. The elements themselves bowed to him, for in his small frame they sensed the coming destroyer of Asuras.
One day, the child beheld Mahādeva seated with his consort Pārvatī amid hosts of ghostly beings—gaunt spirits of strange and fearful shapes: faces of lions, tigers, and bears; of owls, vultures, elephants, and cats; of makaras, camels, and serpents. Some glowed white as the Himalaya, others dark as antimony; some bore weapons, others the symbols of the winds and seas. All the hosts of heaven were there—Mātṛs, Sādhyas, Vasus, Maruts, Rudras, Ādityas, Siddhas, Dānavas, and gods of every sphere. Brahmā, Vishṇu, Indra, and the divine sages Nārada and Bṛhaspati stood with folded hands, awaiting the marvel to come.
Then the boy, blazing like ten thousand suns, advanced toward them. Each of the four divine beings—Śiva, Pārvatī, Agni, and Gaṅgā—thought within themselves, “He will come to me first.” Knowing their thoughts, the child smiled and multiplied himself by yogic power.
In an instant he became fourfold:
one radiant form approached Śiva—this was Skanda,
another moved to Pārvatī—this was Viśākha,
a third turned toward Agni—this was Śākha,
and the fourth, Naigameya, bowed before Gaṅgā.
All four shone with equal brilliance, each embodying one aspect of the divine. The gods cried aloud in wonder, their voices filling the sky, and even the Dānavas trembled at the sight.
Then Rudra, Pārvatī, Agni, and Gaṅgā, amazed at this miracle, bowed together before Brahmā, the Self-born, and said:
“O Lord of beings, grant unto this youth a station befitting his splendour. Let him rule in righteousness over all creatures for our welfare and for the peace of the worlds.”
The Grandsire, beholding that luminous child whose glory surpassed heaven and earth, pondered deeply. He had already bestowed upon the gods dominion over all created things—the Gandharvas over song, the Yakṣas over wealth, the serpents over the depths, and the Rudras over strength. Yet none among them could compare to this being, born of Fire and the Lord of Yoga.
Therefore, with a smile, Brahmā spoke:
“Let this divine youth be the Senāpati, the General of the Celestial Hosts. Let all the gods, Gandharvas, and spirits of heaven obey his command. In battle, let him lead them to victory, and let his name be ever sung as the conqueror of evil.”
Having uttered these words, the Grandsire placed upon Skanda’s brow a crown of flaming gold, symbol of celestial command. The gods lifted their voices in acclamation, and the sound of conchs and drums rolled across the sky.
Then all the immortals, led by Brahmā himself, took the six-faced child to the sacred heights of Himavat, by the banks of the divine Sarasvatī—the river born of thought and light. There, at Samantapañcaka, that holy place revered through the three worlds, they enthroned the god of war.
Under the clear heavens, upon the golden earth, they performed the rites of investiture. The Vedas were chanted; Indra placed the spear in Skanda’s hand; Viṣṇu girded him with celestial mail; and Śiva, smiling, gave him the trident’s reflection, saying:
“Be thou invincible, O son of Fire and Spirit.
Be the guardian of gods, the terror of Daityas,
and the upholder of righteousness in the three worlds.”
Then the heavens thundered, the mountains trembled, and the hosts of heaven, filled with joy, hailed Kārttikeya, the commander of divine armies, whose birth was from flame and whose glory is eternal.
Vaiśampāyana said:
Bṛhaspati, gatherer of sacred order, arrayed all things as the śāstras bid for the rite of investiture. He poured bright oblations into living flame; the mantras rose like swans upon a golden lake. Himavat offered an auspicious, jewel-sown seat; upon that radiant throne they placed Kārttikeya—the six-faced, fire-born child—whose very presence steadied the heavens.
The gods arrived in throngs, bringing every sign of fortune and every vessel fit for consecration: Indra and Viṣṇu of tireless strength; Sūrya and gentle Soma; Dhātṛ and Vidhātṛ who portion and assign; Vāyu and Agni, Puṣan and Bhaga, Aryaman and Aṃśa, Vivasvat and Rudra of piercing insight; Mitra the unfailing friend; the eleven Rudras, eight Vasus, twelve Ādityas, and the Aśvins twin; the Viśvedevas, Maruts and Sādhyas; the Pitṛs, Gandharvas, Apsarases, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, Pannagas; ascetics beyond count—Vaikhānasa, Vālakhilya, wind-fed and sun-fed sages; the sons of Bhṛgu and Aṅgiras; Yatis crowned with tapas; Vidyādharas and siddhas perfected by vow. The Grandsire came, and with him Pulastya and Pulaha, Aṅgiras and Kaśyapa, Atri and Marīci, Bhṛgu and Kratu, Hara and Pracetas, Manu and Dakṣa; the Seasons and the wandering Planets and all bright luminaries; the Rivers in embodied grace; the eternal Vedas; the Seas and tīrthas; the Earth and Sky; quarters and sub-quarters; trees and flowering herbs; Aditi, Hri, Śrī, Svāhā, Sarasvatī, Umā, Śacī, and the lunar nights—Sinīvālī, Anumati, Kuhū—new moon and full; the wives of heaven; Himavat, Vindhya, and summit-rich Meru; Airāvata and the times and measures—kāla and kāṣṭhā, fortnight and season, night and day; Uccaiḥśravas the prince of steeds; Vāsuki, Aruṇa, Garuḍa; Dharma stainless. With Yama and Mṛtyu and their followers they came; with Ocean and the mountains, with birds of omen and beasts of might. The list swelled beyond the tongue’s capacity; still they came, for heaven itself desired this child’s command.
On jewel seat and fire-bright air,
They poured the Sarasvatī’s grace;
If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
A crown of mantras bound his hair,
And thunder softened at his face.
From golden ewers brimming with the Sarasvatī’s sanctity, they anointed Skanda—terror of the Asuras—while shouts of “Jaya!” wheeled across the sky. Brahmā the Grandsire, Kaśyapa the vast-rooted, and all the high immortals poured that water as once they crowned Varuṇa lord of streams.
Then, joyful, the Self-born endowed the youth with companions: four swift as wind, their energy waxing at will—Nandiseṇa, Lohitākṣa, Ghaṇṭakarṇa, and Kumudamālin. Śaṅkara gave one more—an onrush of illusion and might, the great Asura-slayer who, wrath aflame, would grind hosts with bare hands. The celestial army—invincible, many-formed as Viṣṇu—was entrusted to Kārttikeya’s charge. Heaven’s ranks, with Vasava at their head, Gandharvas, Yakṣas, Rākṣasas, Ṛṣis and Pitṛs, thundered victory.
Yama brought Unmatha and Pramatha, twin shades of Death. Sūrya gave Subhraja and Bhāsvara; Soma, Mani and Sumani, pale as Kailāsa’s snows; Agni sent Jvāla-jihva and Jyoti, army-grinders; Aṃśa bestowed Parigha and Vāta, Bhīma the terrible, and the blazing pair Dahati and Dahana. Indra added Utkrośa and Pañcaka, bolt and club in hand; Viṣṇu gave Cakra, Vikrama, Saṅkrama; the Aśvins Vardhana and Nandana, masters of every science. Dhātṛ’s five—Kunda, Kusuma, Kumuda, Dāmvara, Ādāmvara; Tvaṣṭṛ’s Cakra and Anucakra; Mitra’s Suvrata and Satyasaṃdha, boon-givers of gentle brow; Vidhātṛ’s Suprabhā and Subhakarman; Puṣan’s Pānitraka and Kālika weaving illusion; Vāyu’s Vala and Ativala with cavernous mouths; Varuṇa’s Ghāsa and Atighāsa, whales for jaws; Himavat’s Suvarcas and Ativarcas; Meru’s Kāñcana and Meghamālin; Manu’s Sthira and Ati-sthira; Vindhya’s Ucchrita and Agniśṛṅga with mountain-hurling hands; Ocean’s Saṃgraha and Vigraha, mace-bearers. Pārvatī sent Unmāda, Puṣpadanta, Śaṅkukarṇa; Vāsuki gifted Jaya and Mahājaya, serpent-victors. The Sādhyas, Rudras, Vasus, Pitṛs, Seas, Rivers, Mountains—all lent captains with lances and axes, gem-bright and oath-true.
From wind and wave, from cloud and peak,
From law and time and star and tree,
They yoked their strengths to arm the meek—
A god with sixfold majesty.
Then came legions without number: commanders and champions of a thousand shapes and tongues—some crowned, some matted-locked, some bright with diadems, some furrow-browed; bodies cloaked in elephant-hide or black-deer skin, in rags or bone, in blossoms and rare unguents; some sleek as rivers, some jagged as crags. Faces like tortoise and cock, lion and bear, wolf and hare, owl and ass and camel and boar; human and sheep and jackal; makara and dolphin; cat and stinging fly; mongoose and crow; mouse and peacock and fish and goat and buffalo; bear and tiger and leopard and lion; elephant and crocodile; Garuḍa and rhinoceros; cow and mule—eyes like stars, throats blue and red and tawny, eyes saffron and white; long-limbed and short-limbed, dwarfs and high-backed, wide-mouthed and narrow-jawed, teeth many and teeth four. Mouths set upon shoulders, flanks, bellies, backs; arms like trees; heads upon their loins; skins streaked white and red and gold; peacock-sheened and yak-tail bright. They spoke in all the dialects under heaven and laughed, and rang their belts of bells, and danced in a ring around their Lord.
O six-faced Child, O spear and star,
Bid wrath to helm the righteous day;
Let evil learn how brief wars are
When dharma leads the king to fray.
They bore weapons terrible and diverse: śataghnīs and discs; short, heavy clubs; swords and mallets and bludgeons; lances and scimitars; maces and bhusundīs; spears bristling in their hands. Swift as storm, fierce with gladness, those companions of immeasurable might thronged to the newly anointed Senāpati. From sky and air, from mountain and earth they came—thousands upon thousands, millions upon millions—ringing Kārttikeya round like a living wall of vow and valor.
Thus was the investiture fulfilled beside the Sarasvatī’s holy flow: fire bright upon the altar, mantra-rain upon the child, and the three worlds breathing easier—for a captain had risen whose birth was flame, whose grace was river, and whose crown was duty.
Vaiśampāyana said: Hear now, O Bharata, of the vast Mothers’ hosts—foe-quellers and boon-bearers—who gathered to Guha’s side when the gods anointed him. Their names were a garland strung on thunder: Prabhāvatī of auspice; Viśālākṣī, wide-eyed guardian; Pālita and Gonāsī; Śrīmatī the fortunate; Bahulā the manifold; Bahuputrikā, mother of multitudes; Apsujātā, sprung of water; Gopālī of the kine; Bṛhad-aṃbālikā the great-minded; Jayavatī of victory; Mālatikā of flower-white tread; Dhruvaratna, firm as a star; Bhayāṅkarī, terror to terror; Vasudāmā and Sudāmā; Viśokā, sorrowless; Nandinī, ever-glad; Ekacūḍā and Mahācūḍā, crested queens; Cakranemī of the rim; Uttejani who kindles; Jayatsenā; Kamalākṣī lotus-eyed; Śobhanā the bright; Śatrunjayā the conqueror of foes; Śālabhī, Kharī, Mādhavī; Śubhavaktrā of auspicious speech; Tīrthanemī of ford and wheel; Gītāpriyā lover of song; Kalyāṇī; Kādrulā; Amitāśanā fierce-mouthed; Meghasvanā cloud-voiced; Bhogavatī the lavish; Subhru golden-armed; Kanakavatī gold-splendor; Ālatākṣī ember-eyed; Vīryavatī; Vidyujjihvā lightning-tongued; Padmāvatī; Sūnakṣatrā; Kandarā; Bahuyojanā of long ways; Santānikā of lineage; Kamalā; Mahābalā mighty;…—and a thousand thousand more, O King—each a shrine of power.
Slender of flesh yet lustrous as wrought gold, some dark as rain-cloud, some smoke-hued, some like the newborn sun; long-tressed in white robes, some with braids bound upward, some with girdles trailing like rivers; copper-eyed, green-eyed; with long ears, long breasts, long abdomens—ever-cheerful, boon-giving, swift as thought. Part took the temper of Yama, some of Rudra, some of Soma’s cool, some of Kubera’s plenty, some of Varuṇa’s depth, some of Indra’s stroke, and some of Agni’s blaze; others bore within them the airs of Vāyu, the vow of Kumāra, the poise of Brahmā, the stride of Viṣṇu, the glare of Sūrya, the tusk of Varāha. Lovely as dānava-maidens, sweet as kökila in voice, rich as the Lord of Treasures in fortune, they were fire in battle and wind in flight, immeasurable in might.
They made their homes in trees and clearings, at four-road crossings and cave-mouths, in cremation grounds and springs and mountain ledges. Jewelled and bone-girded, robed in many fashions, speaking in many tongues, they came at Śakra’s bidding to stand behind Skanda.
A ring of mothers, moon and flame,
With nails like knives and laughter bright—
They guard the vow, they guard the Name,
They turn the tide of demon-night.
Where roads meet crosswise, where fires white
Consume the husk of mortal clay,
They keep their watch, they keep their rite,
And race like rivers to the fray.
They borrow hues from dawn and dust,
From iron cloud and mango bloom;
Their mercy heals, their fury must
Lay doom on those who fashion doom.
O mothers, mothers, storm and balm,
Your anklets speak the law of war;
In wrath you roar, in blessing calm,
You crown the child with spear and star.
Then Pāka-chastising Indra placed in Guha’s hand a dart—bell-fringed, whistling, sun-bright. He planted beside him a standard that flamed like morning. Śiva gave him an army fierce as penance—Dhananjaya by name—thirty times ten thousand wardens, each a Rudra in might, a host that knew not flight. Viṣṇu cast about his neck a triumph-wreath; Umā sent twin mantles shining like day. Gaṅgā placed a water-pot born of amṛta in his palm; Bṛhaspati gave the sacred staff. Garuḍa gifted his own dear child—a peacock, rainbow-plumed; Aruṇa, a keen-taloned cock; Varuṇa, a serpent of ardor; Brahmā, the black deerskin, and this benediction: “Victory in every strife.”
With the Mothers in his shadow and the gods at his flanks, Skanda flared like a sacrificial fire at full ghee. The celestial ranks unfurled—banners bell-bound, conchs and drums and cymbals, paṭahas and jharjharas, kṛkacas and cow-horns, ḍiṇḍimas—till the three worlds throbbed with praise. Gandharvas sang; Apsarases danced; the Immortals cried, “Jaya, jaya Guha!”
Skanda’s answer was a vow: “All who have willed your ruin I shall lay low.” The very syllables sharpened like steel.
From the van strode Effort and Victory, Dharma, Success and Prosperity, Courage, and the embodied Śāstras; behind them lances and mallets, brands and maces, clubs and arrows, darts and spears, armor bright as planets. When the Asura host broke and ran, the gods pursued; but Guha, wrath-enkindled, sent the Agni-dart screaming. Meteor-blaze leapt earthward; thunder split the quarters; the day wore the mask of dissolution. One cast became a million; one flame became a forest.
Tāraka, chieftain of daityas, ringed by a hundred thousand heroes, fell beneath the spear. Mahīṣa, with eight padmas of warriors, was unseated and unmade; Tripāda with a thousand ajutas; then Hradodara with ten nikharvas of armed fiends. The Mothers laughed and danced; the Kumāra’s followers roared till foes dropped dead of fear. Some burned in the dart’s flame, some shattered under banners’ blows, some died of bells’ delirium; countless were cut where they stood.
Bali’s son Vāṇa, fort-minded, took refuge in the Kraunca mountain. Skanda’s dart entered the crag with a crane’s cry; śāla groves shuddered, apes and elephants stampeded, birds wheeled, serpents flung down steep faces; leopard and bear, śarabha and lion ran wild. Vidyādharas sprang skyward; Kinnaras trembled. From the fissured, flaming heart of Kraunca the daityas burst forth, jeweled and garlanded—only to meet the ring of Guha’s blades. The son of Bali and his younger brother fell like trees in a storm; the mountain’s wound smoked; the spear that flew returned, the one become many, the many gathered back to one—so moved the Fire-born’s will.
Floral rain descended from heaven; cool winds came sweet with celestials’ perfumes; Gandharvas hymned, and sacrificial ṛṣis recited. Some named him Sanat-kumāra, Brahmā’s eldest; some Mahādeva’s son; some Agni’s; some the child of Umā, of the Kṛttikās, or of Gaṅgā—so many births for one unwithering flame.
Thus was the general installed and the worlds made safe. The tīrtha by Sarasvatī shone like a second heaven. To each foremost god Skanda granted dominion and wealth; at last he pledged them sovereignty of the triple world—held not by pride but by the promise of protection.
There, too, lies Taijasa, where once the Waters crowned Varuṇa. Having bathed there and adored Kumāra, Rāma the foe-tamer lavished gold and cloth and adornments upon the twice-born; he praised the ford, touched its stream, and his heart turned bright with fortune.
So have I told, O King, the mustering of the Mothers, the gifts of the gods, the march of the hosts, and the spear’s red script upon the mountain’s page—the investiture and the victory of Kārttikeya, Senāpati of heaven.