Banasura

About 12 min read · 1,931 words

That night, inside the palace of Shonitapura, there was no enemy and no army. Bana, lord of the daityas, danced alone, clapping with his thousand arms, stamping the ground, drowned in the surge of the taandava. His feet moved for one reason only: to delight his chosen god, Maheshwara. And Shankara, who cherishes those who love him, was truly gladdened by that dance.

The Lord of Shonitapura

Bana was no ordinary asura. In the line of Diti had come Hiranyakashipu; among his sons, Prahlada turned out to be a devotee of Vishnu. Prahlada’s son was Virochana, and Virochana’s son was that great giver Bali, who once gave away the whole earth to Vishnu in his dwarf form, Vamana. Bana was the true-born son of that same Bali. He was a devotee of Shiva, proud, generous, and faithful to his word. He had conquered the three worlds and their rulers by force and made Shonitapura his capital. Such was Shankara’s grace upon him that even the gods had become something like servants to this devotee of Shiva; in his kingdom no subject knew sorrow, save the gods themselves.

Pleased by that dance, Shankara told him to ask for a boon, and Bana, his mind clouded by Shiva’s own maya, asked for a boon that few would ever think to name. “Lord,” he said, “become my protector. Take charge of my city, with your sons and your ganas, and live here beside me forever.” Shambhu, tender toward his devotees, granted the boon, and took up residence in Shonitapura with his sons and his hosts.

The Burden of a Thousand Arms

But pride swelled alongside his splendor. One day, having satisfied Shiva with his dance and knowing that the beloved of Parvati was pleased, Bana folded his hands and spoke. “God of gods, by your grace alone I became mighty. Yet these thousand arms you gave me have begun to feel like a weight, for in all three worlds I can find no warrior who is my match, none but you. What am I to do with these mountainous arms if there is no war for them? I have ground cities and mountains to dust and reached the very elephants that guard the quarters of the sky, and even they fled in terror. I have conquered Yama, Agni, Varuna, Kubera, Nirriti, and Indra himself, and made them pay me tribute. Now name me a war in which either these arms fall, worn down by an enemy’s weapons, or I strike down my enemies’ arms by the thousand.”

Hearing this, Chandrashekhara, whose very form is great wrath, felt anger stir in him. He laughed a terrible laugh and said, “You arrogant one. You are the son of Bali and my own devotee; such words do not become your mouth. Your conceit will be crushed now. Soon you will meet a great and dreadful war against one as strong as I am, and in that battle these mountainous arms of yours will be cut away and fall to the ground, one by one. When the peacock banner over your armory topples on its own, with no wind to move it, know then that the war has arrived.” Having said this, Shankara, the breaker of pride, fell silent.

Usha’s Dream

Time passed, and one day the banner truly did snap and fall with no wind to touch it. Bana rejoiced, eager for his war. Yet the danger came through a very different door. In the month of Vaishakha, after worshiping Madhava and adorning herself with festive ornaments, Bana’s daughter Usha lay asleep in her secret inner chambers. That very night, by the power of the goddess Parvati, she met Aniruddha, the grandson of Krishna, in a dream. When she woke she was overcome, and she pressed her friend Chitralekha again and again to bring her that man from the dream.

Chitralekha was the daughter of the minister Kumbhanda, and very clever. She began to draw the likenesses of gods, gandharvas, nagas, and men. When she came to the Vrishni line and sketched Shura, Vasudeva, Rama, Krishna, Pradyumna, and then Pradyumna’s son Aniruddha, Usha shrank with shy confusion at the sight of him. “The one who came to me in the night and stole the jewel of my heart as dawn broke, this is the thief,” she said. The yogini Chitralekha reached Dwarka in the third watch of the night and lifted Aniruddha, seated on his bed, out of the palace.

When the guards of the inner chambers saw that radiant youth beside the princess, they ran to tell Bana everything. Enraged, Bana came in person. First he sent ten thousand soldiers, and Aniruddha handed them over to death in a single moment. Army after army came on, and army after army was cut down. Then Aniruddha raised a weapon as terrible as the fire that ends the age and struck at Bana, who sat upon his chariot. Wounded to the bone, Bana vanished from that place at once, horses and all. Later that same son of Bali used a trick to bind Aniruddha in the nagapasha, the serpent-noose, and cast him into a cage.

In his fury Bana ordered the prisoner shoved into a deep well covered over with straw and grass, and killed there. But his minister Kumbhanda, a man of righteous mind, stopped him. “My lord, consider a moment. In form and complexion this one looks like Vishnu himself. Even as the serpents bite him he treats us as though we were blades of grass; it is not right to kill such a hero.” Then he spoke to Aniruddha as well. “Base man, praise the lord of the daityas, admit defeat, and fold your hands to him; your freedom lies in that.” Aniruddha flared and answered, “Vile night-stalker. For a kshatriya, the honor is to die fighting face to face on the field of battle. To lie on the ground with folded hands and die like a beggar, never.”

Just then a voice came from the sky. “Mighty Bana, you are the son of Bali; think for a moment. Shiva is the lord of all beings, the witness of every deed, the supreme god; this entire world lies under his sway. By his will even the weak grow strong. Shankara, the master of divine play, will crush your pride this very hour.” Hearing this, Bana let go of the thought of killing. Meanwhile, bound in the nagapasha, Aniruddha remembered Durga. “You who cherish all who take refuge in you, I am bound in the serpent-noose and burning in the flame of venom; come quickly and protect me.” On the great night of Krishna Chaturdashi, Kalika appeared, burned those fearsome serpents to ash, tore the nagapasha to pieces, freed Aniruddha from his bonds, and returned him to the inner chambers. Free once more, Aniruddha lived happily with his beloved Usha.

Krishna Comes to Shonitapura

Meanwhile the news reached Krishna from the mouth of Narada, that Aniruddha lay bound in Bana’s nagapasha. Krishna marched upon Shonitapura with twelve akshauhinis of army and with heroes such as Pradyumna. On the other side, Lord Rudra too arrayed himself and stood ready for his devotee. Then a great and dreadful war broke out between Krishna and Shiva; fever weapons were loosed from both sides. At last Krishna came to Rudra himself and praised him. “All-pervading Shankara, untouched by the qualities of nature, you are the one who makes those very qualities shine. You alone break pride; and it was you who gave this proud Bana his boon. So it is by your own command that I have come to cut off his arms. Mahadeva, withdraw now from this war, and grant me leave to undo his pride.”

Maheshwara said, “Dear one, you have spoken rightly. It was I who laid this curse upon him, and it is by my command that you have come to cut off his arms. Yet I remain always bound to my devotees; how can Bana’s arms be cut while I look on? So first make me yawn with the jrimbhanastra, the weapon of yawning, and then finish the work you desire.” At these words of Shiva, Shri Hari, who bears the Sharnga bow, was filled with wonder. At once he set the jrimbhanastra to his bow and loosed it upon the bearer of the Pinaka, and seeing Shankara overcome by a yawn and sunk into a spell of sleep, he began to destroy Bana’s army with his mace and his other weapons.

Four Arms

Now Bana himself pressed forward into the battle, with Kumbhanda holding the reins of his horses. The fierce fight between Krishna and Bana ran on for a long time, because Krishna, the avatar of Vishnu, was Shiva’s own form, and Bana too was a supreme devotee of Shiva. At last, in his anger, Krishna cut away many of Bana’s arms with the Sudarshana chakra; only four beautiful arms remained, and by Shankara’s grace even his pain was gone. When Bana lost his senses and Krishna made ready to cut off his head, Shankara rose from his spell of sleep and spoke. “Son of Devaki, the task I commanded, you have carried out. Do not behead Bana now; call back the Sudarshana. I have given him a boon that he need never fear death; that word of mine must remain true.” Then he looked toward Bana and said, “It was by my own command that Shri Hari came to cut off your arms.” With these words Maheshwara made friends of the two. Krishna called back his chakra, reassured Aniruddha and Usha, accepted the jewels Bana offered, was pleased to gain the yogini Chitralekha, and returned to Dwarka with the bride and groom and all their family.

The Boon of Mahakala

Bana was alone now, yet he did not break. Nandishvara counseled him. “Tiger among devotees, fix your mind on Shankara, the first guru, and remember him every day.” Free of all enmity, Bana went to the abode of Shiva, praised him with hymns, and then began the great taandava, beating time with his feet, wheeling his arms, arching his brows, and tossing his head. Sounding a thousand kinds of music from his own mouth, the devotee danced with such feeling that Chandrashekhara, who bears the trishula, was pleased. Delighted, Hara said, “Dear Bana, I am satisfied with your dance; whatever you desire, ask for it as a boon.”

Bana asked, “Let the wounds of my severed arms heal; let my skill in armed combat remain; grant me undying leadership among your ganas; let the kingdom of Shonitapura pass to Usha’s son, my grandson; let my enmity with the gods, and above all with Vishnu, be wiped away; let no corrupt asura nature ever wake in me again; let a pure and untroubled devotion to Shambhu endure in me forever; and let my affection for Shiva’s devotees and my compassion for all living beings remain.” Having asked for this boon, Bana, his eyes filled with tears of love and his body thrilling, bowed to Maheshwara and fell silent. “May all of this be yours,” Shankara said, and vanished on the spot. And Bana, once the proud lord of the daityas, attained the state of Mahakala and came to be counted among the ganas of Rudra.

Source: the Shiva Purana (Gita Press, Sankshipta Shivapurananka), Rudra Samhita, the fifth (Yuddha) Khanda